The Black Monster: The Beginning
Part 11
It was late into the next day by the time Rose awoke from her peaceful sleep. She had almost forgotten where she was and what had happened within the past few days. When she was completely aware of her surroundings her mind began to recollect and she was soon filled with the same grief and doubt as the day before. She became nervous at the thought of seeing the emperor again and discovering what he had in store for her and the others. What would he have them do? Fight? She was hopeless when it came to battle. Raised as a farm girl the closest she had been to killing was when preparing chickens for the evening meal. She held her hands to her face as she imagined her useless attempt at swinging a sword. The look of disappointment on the dragoons faces, the refusal of the emperor to train her and the reaction of Zieg.
A knock at the door startled Rose from her thoughts and she had to take a moment before replying.
"Come in."
The door creaked open and maroon colored eyes peaked through. Damia smiled and pushed the door open completely. She looked different this morning. Rose could no longer see the fear in her eyes nor the sense of insecurity, all she could see was excitement.
Damia rushed up to the bedside studying the room intently, "they're all different."
Rose stared at her in question.
"The rooms, they're all different," she jumped onto the bed, "mine was the room of my dreams."
Rose smiled as she listened to Damia explain her room as a 'water filled garden with the bed atop a tower in the center.'
"It sounds beautiful," Rose said when Damia had finished.
Damia looked about the room again, "is this your dream room?"
Rose laughed, "No, this looks just like my old room back in Furni."
Damia nodded as she looked about the room, from stroking the bedcovers to looking out the window. Rose stood up from the bed and stretched out her arms.
"So are you nervous?" she asked the girl.
"About what?"
"Meeting with the Emperor, we don't know what he wants us to do."
Damia shrugged, "I don't know, I'm not really. I think I am mostly excited."
Rose was astonished at Damia's reply. Such a young girl excited about learning the powers of a dragoon, ignoring the fact that deaths could be involved with that power. Rose wished she could have that enthusiasm, but she could not muster even the slightest amount. When another knock sounded from the door her heart dropped, she knew now that it was time to see the Emperor.
Shirley entered the room wearing a significantly cleaner robe that the day before. She seemed refreshed and did not appear to be as stressed as she had been.
"You girls ready?" she asked with a smile.
Damia nodded instantly and rushed for the door.
Rose took her time, not giving even the slightest form of a reply; all she could do was follow them out to the corridor. Up ahead she could see Syuveil walking alongside Belzac. She wondered how he felt about this considering his opinion back at the camp. Was he as excited as Damia or as unsure as Rose? From what she could see he did not appear all that nervous. Why did she have to be the only one?
They began to descend the stairs and her heart pounded in her chest. They were getting closer to the throne room, closer to their realization of her uselessness, closer to her failure. She swallowed back a sob as they reached the hallway and prayed constantly as they passed through the doorway into the throne room.
The emperor sat in waiting, watching as each of them entered the room. When they had settled down into the chairs set out for them he stood.
"Good morning, I hope you slept well," he smiled behind his mask, "you shall need that regained energy today I am sure."
"Now," he began, "I am sure you have already been told about the dragoons…and that they are created by harnessing the spirit of a dragon. Each one of you are potentials in attaining such power, but first you must deserve that power and only then will the spirit accept you."
He paused studying each of them, noticing in particular the fidgeting movements of the woman named Rose.
"Today you will be tested in order to recognize your strengths. Through tests of the mind, body and your ability to wield any which weapon that suites you best."
Rose flinched at this remembering how much of a struggle she faced when lifting Zieg's sword.
"This process could take an hour…or a few days. It will be different for each of you. Yet I do know that each one of you will achieve what you set out to do."
The Emperor looked to Shirley and Belzac, "Now these two will lead you to your designated rooms and there your training will begin. Remember to follow your heart and what means most to you, that will give you the courage to achieve anything."
Once again the Emperor bowed to them and left through the same doorway as the night before. Shirley turned to them and smiled.
"Alright, let's go."
This time they were led down a different hallway which contained within it three doors. They were each placed in front of a door.
"Now you will complete this at your own pace, it all depends upon you and how you deal with what you see," Belzac started, "it is when you learn in your heart what you wish to accomplish and when you come to understand what you must do, that you will pass this test."
Rose nodded along with the others.
"When you enter these rooms the doors will be locked," Shirley explained, "the Emperor will know when you have completed your task and one of us will be sent to retrieve you."
She nodded to each of them, "You may now enter your room," she paused, "good luck."
Rose entered the room and closed the door behind her. She looked about herself to see nothing but cold stone, not even a window was available as a source to the outside. She swallowed roughly and stood in waiting. A loud click from behind announced that the door had been locked. The test had begun.
She stood for quite a while awaiting everything and anything, she could not guess at what the Emperor had planned. Minutes turned into hours and she found herself sitting upon the stone floor staring into the flickering fire of the torches upon the wall. Her stomach began to bother her as the twisted knots of nervousness and the lack of food began to take their toll. Her hands clutching at her rumbling stomach she took in a deep breath then let out a bored sigh.
'What kind of test is this?' she wondered.
As if in reply to her thoughts the torches snuffed out filling the room in darkness. Her breath caught in her throat and her eyes moved about frantically to try and capture a glimpse of anything. She moved her hands back and forth in front of her face but she could see nothing. She felt upon the stone for the wall and helped herself up blindly, stumbling across the room, feeling along the wall for the door. When she felt the wooden slab beneath her fingers she began to bang upon it. No words escaped her lips as her breath was still caught in her throat. It seemed liked hours that she stood there banging upon the door until she finally gave up, sobs coursing through her body. Her hands ached from slamming against the door for so long and she rubbed them softly as she cried. She felt so alone and lost, she had no idea what she was supposed to do. She closed her eyes against the darkness and cried. She knew she was failing; she would not pass the Emperor's test.
"So, when are you going to settle for a husband?"
Rose jumped at the sound of the voice; she stopped for a moment, realizing it was her father's voice.
"Wow, you've been working hard," said the same voice.
"Father?" Rose asked the darkness.
"Rose you look wonderful."
Rose paused, thinking about what was being said. He had said these things to her before.
"Nervous?"
Rose did not reply this time.
"It's normal to be nervous."
She swallowed back the sob that threatened to escape her lips. She was nervous, even more so now that she heard her father's voice. What was going on?
"Are you ready?"
"No," Rose whispered as tears flowed down her cheeks. She was not ready for any of this. Where was her father's voice coming from, why was he saying these things? She felt about the wall frantically, working her way around the room trying to find the source of the voice, but she could feel nothing. Her heart twisted into a knot as she realized she was still alone in the room, yet still her father's voice rang clear as though her were standing right beside her.
"Why did you leave me?" her father's voice echoed into the room.
"How could you do this? Rose…"
"What?" she whispered, "I didn't, you…"
"How can I live like this…?"
A breath of wind swept through the room and the temperature began to decline. Rose felt about the room again as the cold bit into her bare skin. This time she felt something, it was warm to the touch, then the softness of cloth brushed her skin. The object felt human, she could touch the arms and legs, make out the definitions of a face.
"Why?" whispered the voice of her father, bringing forth another breath of cold wind. The warm skin beneath her fingertips began to melt away, the human beneath her now felt rough and cold, and as her fingers explored the features closer she realized she was touching nothing but bone. She gasped out loud and fell back, scrambling backwards into the opposite wall.
"Rose you look beautiful," said a different voice now.
She dropped her head into her hands, sobbing.
"Rose are you alright?"
She cried harder as she realized the voice belonged to that of her dead husband Evan. She was not alright she was devastated. Her father blamed her for his death and now the voice of Evan plagued her with the same feeling of guilt.
"I know you don't love me…"
"No," Rose whispered, "but I cared about you!"
"Maybe it will just take time," his voice echoed.
'How am I supposed to get through this?' Rose wondered, 'I don't know what I am supposed to do.'
"Then I'll help you."
Rose stopped, listening for his voice to continue but nothing was said.
A cold breeze rose once again tousling about her hair, bringing forth the feeling of another body at her side.
"I knew my life was too good to be true," said the voice from beside causing her to jump.
"I love you," it whispered.
Rose sobbed again picturing her last sight of Evan in the Wingly Fortress. The way he had looked up at her in such sadness.
"My death…" the voice said in her ear, "is on you."
Rose choked on her breath as he said this. Why would he say that? She had nothing to do with his death.
"It's your fault…"
Rose clenched her teeth, "No!"
The warmth from beside faded and the sound of something rough moving on stone met her ears until she felt an object drop upon her shoulder. She felt upon it to discover the same feeling of rough bone, and the skull that leant against her. She cried out jumping up from the floor stumbling over the suddenly uneven ground.
"You killed me…" came the voice of her father.
Crawling over the floor she cried loudly, hearing and feeling the crunching of objects beneath her.
"I'm dead because of you," Evan's voice echoed in her ears.
She screamed as she realized she was crawling upon bones. As she struggled to get away from the she realized the amount was increasing. She stood unsteadily to find the piles of bones reaching passed her knees. Her heart beat at a dangerous rate, her breath caught in a painful lump in her chest, she cried outwardly, screaming in horror.
"You killed us," the voices whispered together.
Rose was fed up with them blaming her and through her tears she yelled, "No I didn't!"
She spun around, "I did not kill either of you! It was the winglies!"
Suddenly she could move her legs and as she walked about she saw that the bones no longer covered the floor.
"It was the winglies!" she cried out again.
The cold air that filled the room began to lift and the biting numbness left her tired limbs.
Rose collapsed upon the floor, staring into the darkness as she whispered again, "it was the winglies."
Her heart's beat began to slow and the sobs ebbed into complete silence. She sat there, eyes taking in nothing but black. The winglies had murdered both her father and Evan. It was because of them that they were dead, not her. The winglies brought this sorrow and grief into life; it was the winglies that stole her happiness. She could not bear to think about someone else feeling the same way, encountering the same pain.
"They have to be stopped," Rose whispered, "the winglies cannot be allowed to do this anymore."
A loud click echoed into the room but Rose did not flinch at the sound. She stared off in silence even as light began to fill the room.
"Rose?" asked a gentle female voice.
She did not look up, she continued to stare at the stone wall across from her, still hearing the accusing voices of her father and Evan. Rose understood her realization, she knew what she was meant to do, but her question was, could she do it?
"Rose?" the voice asked again.
She looked up slowly into the questioning eyes of Shirley. The red haired woman stared back at her in what appeared to be surprise. Shirley entered the room and offered her arm to Rose. With hesitation she took it and was lifted upon her tired legs.
"How are you feeling?" Shirley asked as she led Rose out of the room.
Rose did not reply, she continued to hear the voices and feel the cold breath of death upon her skin. The rough touch of bone felt implanted upon her fingertips. The darkness of the room met her with every blink. She could not speak.
Shirley gave up her attempts of getting through to Rose and simply stuck to leading her into the dining hall where a plate of food was being set. She helped Rose get seated then watched in silence as Rose ate. Footsteps approached and she looked up to see Zieg in the doorway. Shirley stood from the table and approached him with a look of concern.
"She hasn't said a word," she whispered.
Zieg nodded slightly, "shocked I suppose…"
"My God Zieg look at her," Shirley nearly raised her voice, "she looks as though she's been locked up for years, not an hour!"
Zieg studied Rose from the doorway. Her eyes were dim and the lids dark. Her skin was ghostly pale and she appeared as frail as a child. Yet there was something significantly different, he could not longer sense the fear she had felt so strongly before. He could not see any emotion; she stared off into the distance eating the food given to her in silence.
"What did she see?" Shirley asked, shaking her head slowly.
Zieg shrugged, "we'll never know, we're not supposed to."
"Sometimes," Shirley started, "I think this goes too far, remember Kanzas' trial?"
Zieg shook his head, "hardly, I left not long after he entered."
"It was terrible, he was almost the same as Rose is now," she paused looking over at Rose, "I remember hearing him scream at night. I would go into his room to find his fists bloodied from beating at the stone walls."
It took a moment for Zieg to absorb this; he began to understand Shirley's concern.
"We did not come out like this Zieg, what on earth happened to them?"
"I don't know," he said quietly, watching Rose along with Shirley.
After a moment he placed his hand upon Shirley's shoulder, "don't worry about her, I'll take her up when she is done. You go relax."
Shirley had begun to protest but stopped herself, she needed to calm down and think things through. She agreed and left the dining hall for her tower.
Zieg hesitated for a short while before he approached Rose. When he did he saw that she had finished her meal and was gazing off into space.
"Rose," he said quietly.
She shook at the sound of his voice and looked up at him with her dark emotionless eyes. It took him a while before he could speak as his voice had been lost when she looked at him. Something inside her was gone, not the fear like he had noticed before, this was something more.
"A…are you ready for me to take you upstairs?" he asked.
She studied him for a few minutes then nodded. He helped her up from the chair then eventually carried her up the sets of stairs into the circular corridor. There he ran into Kanzas who stared at Rose in silence. No sarcastic remarks escaped his lips as he looked at her. From what Zieg had been told he knew that Kanzas understood. Kanzas had experienced something similar and was not about to go and badger her for being weak. He had been as well, and in his mind he hoped that Rose would not have to endure what he had during his week after the trial. Kanzas watched as Zieg carried her down the corridor to her tower.
"Poor creature," he whispered, shaking his head, "be strong."