Chapter 128

"Sir?"

"Yes?"

"Was. . .was Arawn the one causing my. . .ni-nightmares?"

"Yes, child. But he cannot harm you anymore, as the Invisibles remain with you at night. There is nothing to fear from him."

Their previous conversation echoed in Avalina's head that night as she lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. The firelight gave off enough to see by and the shadows flickered eerily about the room.

'He said I'm safe,' she told herself for the dozenth time, 'Arawn can't send me any more nightmares while the Invisibles are around.'

She could sense them now, flitting somewhat aimlessly about the room, not making the slightest sound, and she knew she should be comforted, but her mind refused to let her sleep.

'The Fates gave the Invisibles to the Horned King to aid him,' she thought, 'But aid him in what? Surely if he was planning on trying to take over Prydain again he would have started by now? Perhaps they're to tend the castle? But why can't we see them? Do they not want to be seen? Maybe they think they're ugly? I can't believe they would be. They feel. . .beautiful.'

Despite being invisible, they had auras too, just as every other living creature did, and Avalina could sense the kindness and chaotic nature that emanated from them.

'I can't see them being ugly, if they could be seen. Maybe they would like to be seen, but they can't be anything but invisible? I guess the Fates have a reason. But. . .the Fates. . .they're. . .they're real. If the Horned King has servants from them they must be real!'

This thought both slightly frightened her and made her feel so happy inside she thought she would burst if she didn't smile. Which turned into a soft laugh of joy in the otherwise silent room.

'I'd always hoped they were real!' She thought, a deep peace stealing through her, 'And they are! They're real! My prayers have not been in vain! That means that they heard my prayer all those months ago!'

Thinking of that made her want to leap from bed and dance for joy but she refrained, that deep contentment making her body reluctant to move.

With a soft sigh she settled back, her eyes closed, but her mind still turning. Today had given her much to think about.

'I can't imagine the Horned King being under anyone's rule,' she thought. 'Not willingly, that is. He's far too. . .well. . .himself.'

The exact word escaped her at the moment. There were so many to pick from she didn't feel like even thinking them.

I can't see him being at another's beck and call. Not even someone as powerful as. . .Arawn.'

That name alone made her shiver in terror, starting faintly as the fire gave a particularly loud crackle, and she felt instantly uneasy.

'He's dead,' she tried to reassure herself, 'He can't come back. But. . .the Horned King did, somehow.'

She pulled the covers up a little more.

'And I've heard Arawn talk to me from the Cauldron. Or, his spirit, rather.'

The frightened girl trembled anew at the memory.

'Does that mean he can escape like the Horned King did?'

This brought up something else she had not received an answer to earlier.

'I wonder how the Horned King came back. It wasn't his doing. He doesn't even know how himself. I wonder if the Fates released him?'

Her brow furrowed softly in puzzlement.

'But why would they willingly send someone that wicked back from the dead?'

Instantly she felt guilty for even thinking that and shoved the thought away, choosing another to ponder on instead.

'Once someone dies, it's over, isn't it? It's the end. Or at least, I thought so. But, if they brought the Horned King back. . .'

Here the girl swallowed hard.

'Why didn't they bring my daddy back? They could have, but they didn't. And now he's gone, and he left a family struggling to survive as best they could. It's not fair!'

Sniffing, she quickly wiped away the tears, fighting the urge to cry. It would make her pillow wet, and the Horned King didn't like it when she cried.

The Horned King. . .if she wasn't so depressed the thought of him would have made her smile.

'He said he's over a thousand years old,' she remembered in disbelief.

'I can't imagine what it must be like to live that long. And yet, he can remember hardly any of it. No birdsong, no music, no animals, no anything. He must have seen so much of death. . .'

'And he caused a whole lot of it, too,' her second inner voice stated matter-or-factly, much to Avalina's horror.

'That explains why he always feels so heavy,' she thought, trying to drown the other voice out, 'And so very weary. I don't know how he stands it. I know I couldn't. But a thousand years...well over a thousand, rather,' she corrected herself, 'And here I was, thinking Mueric or Dallben was old. How much he must have seen! And he can't remember any of it. It could be for the best, like he said, but it must be so horrible, to not even know who you are.'

Avalina's chest clinched painfully for him.

'I'm glad I know who I am. And other people do too. They call me by name.'

While she was thinking of "other people," her mind brought up something else for her to think about.

'I've known Dallben for a little while, and I never knew Hen Wen was oracle. She looks perfectly ordinary. I think I'd have to see it to actually believe it, it sounds like something out of a book. Taran undoubtedly knows about it too, and probably Eilonwy as well, since she was there. . .'

Avalina swiftly stifled a brief pang of hurt jealousy.

'I don't blame them for not telling me. After all, they hardly know me and I wouldn't expect them to just toss that information around to anyone. But even the best secrets have rumors around them, I guess.'

Her eyes had scarcely drifted shut when the fire snapped loudly, jolting her instantly awake again, listening.

'You're being silly,' her inner voice scolded, 'He can't hurt you with the Invisibles around.'

Her mind turned, thoroughly unwillingly, to Arawn for the second time that night.

'The Death Lord of Annuvin. . .and the Horned King followed in his place. Arawn was his master, and yet. . .there doesn't seem to be anything between them, save hate. But. . .they sought after the same thing. The Black Cauldron. Arawn probably intended to use it the way the Horned King did. If either of them had succeeded, it would have been the end of the world as anyone knows it. If Arawn had succeeded, I may not have ever been born, and Prydain, quite possibly the world, would be gone.'

Avalina shivered at the thought.

'And if the Horned King had succeeded, he would have destroyed everything, and my family and I would probably be dead by now. But it was the only thing he wanted. His only desire. Destroy everything and rule the world. It was all he sought, and although he tells me he can't, it might have been his only dream too.'

Avalina frowned to herself, conflicted and troubled.

'Is it wrong of me to be glad he failed? Prydain would have been no more if he had succeeded, and everyone would be. . .dead. But, he's my friend, and he suffered so before he was brought back. . .'

She trembled again.

'But. . .friends are supposed to encourage each other, right? Does that mean I'm supposed to wish he'd succeeded? Great stars, what am I thinking?! That's horrible!'

She shrank down dispiritedly under the covers, her exhausted eyes slowly closing.

'I'm so confused. What am I supposed to think? I wish I knew.'

No matter which decision she made, she still felt bad for it in some way and it was giving her a headache. She had heard the intense yearning in his voice earlier, sounding as if he would give anything to have another chance at world domination, and it scared her.

And so she drifted softly off to sleep, mixed thoughts of the Horned King, her family, (both living and dead) the Black Cauldron, the Invisibles, oracle pigs, the Cauldron-Born, pigkeepers, and unfortunately Arawn too, drifting through her head.

The Horned King paced thoughtfully in his chambers, contemplating all that had happened. Unbeknownst to him, his frame of mind was much like Avalina's tonight.

He had much to think about.

It was staggering, how when he had begun speaking to her of them, all those dozens of shapeless, pointless images drifting aimlessly about in his mind had come together to now create one long strand of nothing *but* shapeless, pointless images, but they felt. . .ordered. Organized. As the words had left his mouth, they had fallen into place and now he could remember everything he had told Avalina more clearly than before, and the transition was somewhat disorienting. What he now knew to be memories and not tricks of the mind filled him, but there were so many empty spaces. . .huge gaps in between bits of past occurrences that should not be there. . .something went there, and there, and way back there too. . .but he could not recall it.

'Patience,' he told himself dully, gingerly massaging his temples in an attempt to ease the dull throb that resided behind them.

'It will come soon enough.'

His head felt too full, and he wondered how he could possibly remember anymore without getting a fullblown headache. Remembering things was nearly as draining as teleporting, he reflected with a huff.

As he had told the girl, perhaps it was best if he did not remember anything more. What he had finally managed to piece together today was months of unbidden images solidified by Avalina's questions, and none of it pleasurable to recall. Perhaps it was best if his memory would not return to him completely. He doubted any of it mattered anyhow. He had gotten all he felt he needed to know today, and yet. . .a part of him whispered for more, yearned for more, and wondered. . .what all was missing? Over a thousand years of memory lay there, almost close enough to touch, and yet so hopelessly out of reach.

'It is no matter,' he told himself, pushing the small protesting urge away. 'I admit, I long for more. . .but it is better if it remains buried. It faded because it was of no importance. I do not require memories to function. They clutter the mind and burden the heart, and a warlord needs neither clutter nor conscience.'

Thump.

He felt that organ that had been long-dead beat faintly inside his chest, and it vaguely unsettled him. Even after so many months, the novelty had still not worn off completely, and at certain times he would realize with a faint start that he now had that one thing he had existed so long without.

A heart. That item that gave its host Life. Something, as Avalina said, that everyone had, but no one seemed to appreciate like they should. The most common and yet most precious treasure anyone could ever have, according to her.

Thump.

'Everyone forgets how completely priceless it is, because they live with it every day, but. . .you will appreciate yours more than anyone, because you know what it's like to lose it.'

The Horned King twitched his head faintly, recalling her words, his clasped hands flexing slowly behind his back, as if he could feel the memory beneath his fingers instead of inside his head.

'No,' he thought heavily, nudging the pleasant recollection away with reluctance. 'A heart I may have, but it will never change who I am. What I've done. It must be monstrous and black as my very soul. Not all hearts are beautiful items.'

*This is me for forever

One of the lost ones

The one without a name

Without an honest heart as compass*

'Perhaps I was never meant to regain anything,' he thought, 'And be nothing but an empty husk, existing through the centuries as the stones. All of my past, my memories, even my own name, forgotten. Lost. And without a heart to lead me through the ages, I wonder. . .did I become lost as well?'

*This is me for forever

One without a name

These lines the last endeavor

To find the missing lifeline*

'Did I have another purpose? Another life, if you will? If I did, it is naught but dust now, and as pointless to attempt retrieving as it is impossible. Recalling the few things I have could not possibly have been intended for me. But Avalina. . .she helps me. . .remember. She is my sole hope, my last and only chance, to save my soul, my life, from the Black Cauldron. From. . .Arawn. I will not have another opportunity. And if remembering the past, wretched as it no doubt is, can strengthen my faint possibility, then so be it.'

The Horned King had read many books, and although he knew it was nothing but a pitiful artist's imagination, he had constantly seen illustrations portraying the soul as a winged sphere of light, and inside that light. . .a flower. Of course, every book and scroll had been different, but the image of a soul portrayed as a flower had struck him as ironically, bitterly humorous. Nothing could be further from the truth.

He had seen illustrations, too, of what the artist imagined happening to the soul if corrupted by evil. They portrayed the flower dying, and when it died completely, choked to death by vines of sin, the bloom would be nothing but a dead stem. Lifeless. And it was this image that came to him now, much to his disgust.

*My flower, withered between

The pages Two and Three

The once and forever bloom

Gone with my sins*

'My soul is beyond even dust,' he thought somewhat bitterly, 'Even in the event I am somehow freed from the Cauldron, my soul is so long dead, it is nothing but a shriveled, withered thing unable to ever truly live again. It perished before my heart did, and I cannot even recollect when that was. And the cruelest irony of all is that I chose this. If my memory is not lying. Perhaps all of my answers lie in my past recollections, but I cannot remember.'

*Walk the dark path

Speak with angels

Call the past for help

Touch me with your love

And reveal to me my true name*

The Horned King had never believed in angels. He thought it a pointless and idiotic notion, that there could ever be such pure, beautiful, and completely *petty* creatures that served no purpose whatsoever, other than to give those foolish mortals Hope, for whatever pathetic reason they felt they needed. How could *anyone* believe in angels, when there was so much suffering and death in the world? He huffed to himself even now at the thought. Mortals were so completely gullible, they would believe anything they dreamed up. But there were times, when he looked at Avalina, that he deeply pondered his belief. Particularly when she would come in from the garden, with the wind's breath in her air, the sun's kiss on her face, the smell of earth and flowers that would follow her inside, and that celestial sparkle in her eyes that danced so joyfully, her entire being overflowing with Life, and all things good. . .and her aura that was so completely. . .

'Angelic,' he thought. 'It is the only word that compliments it properly.'

Avalina had an angel's heart, and it shone right through, leaving him both exhilarated and faintly breathless (if an undead could even claim such a sensation) everytime he was in her presence. And when she touched him the effect promptly doubled. She had called herself weak and useless, and not a year ago he would have agreed most vehemently, but now. . .he found himself heartily disagreeing with the idea, as he had told her once before.

True, she may be weak by mortal's standards, but she had an inner strength, an inner light that simply flowed out of her in waves. If allowed to flourish, it could not be contained and even now would occasionally overwhelm the lich if he did not steady himself. If angels existed, surely Avalina could be called one. He could think of no other title that fitted her so well.

She had told him she would think of a name for him to replace the one he had lost. . .assuming he had ever had one to lose at all. . .and although he had never thought names even the slightest bit important, he could not help being curious as to what she might pick. (Mr. Green notwithstanding) He stifled a half-amused growl at the memory. She clearly pondered names well (Mitternacht and Addie being prime examples) and he could only imagine what she might pick for him.

'No doubt it will have something to do with Death or an equally fitting meaning,' he pondered somewhat heavily. 'She has a talent for matching names with their bearers. Although I find it difficult to believe she would pick such a name, even if it does describe me accurately.'

A soft whisper of noise pulled the lich from his deep and troubled thoughts with a jolt. Fangs bared in a half snarl, he looked around, his eyes faintly shimmering at being disturbed, before he slowly approached the window.

It was raining. He could not see it, for the night was black and empty, even for his own sharp vision, but he heard the soft drops fall in gentle sheets through the air and whisper things he could not understand as he stood there, listening.

'Who-are-you? Who-are-you? Who-are-you?' It asked urgently, the drops on the roof above the lich pounding out the syllables.

'I do not know,' he thought in reply before he realized what he was doing and swiftly silenced himself, letting the gentle hushing fill his senses. It was a. . .peaceful sound, and melancholy, but. . .almost happy.

He had seen it rain so many times in his existence. . .never once able to go out in it, it set back any battle plans he may have made in advance and severely limited his outdoor travel. If he was not so deathly sensitive to snow, rain or any other type of moisture, conquering other countries would have progressed much more swiftly.

He had never pondered it before, but now, in the privacy of his personal chambers, he stared out into the falling drops and wondered.

If he was not an undead, what would it feel like? How did rain feel for Avalina? He had sometimes watched her pause in the courtyard while it was raining, and simply stand there, seemingly content to let herself get soaked. When she rode Mitternacht in the rain, her reaction was much the same. Now that he thought about it, he would have to precaution her against becoming ill as a result of doing that...but what did she feel?

The Horned King had never pondered this before, and he doubted he would have ever pondered it, had Avalina not come along.

He had only her blurry reactions to go on, but rain seemed to be. . .soothing. Sometimes. The lich had watched the girl shrink from rain too, pulling her cloak tighter around her in an attempt to stay dry, but overall. . .if he could, it was a sensation the Horned King would certainly not mind experiencing. Not at all.

*Oh how I wish

For soothing rain

All I wish is to dream again

My monstrous heart lost in the dark

For hope I'd give my everything*

Another thing he had never contemplated before was dreaming. What were dreams? What were they like? He knew there must be a difference between the ones received during sleep and during the waking hours, but he could not fathom what it might be. For all the knowledge contained in the library, this was one subject there was nothing on. He knew that Dreams had a twin called Nightmares, but he had no interest in meeting one of those. His own nightmares could not be woken from.

He would not mind dreaming (in fact he somewhat longed for it) and regretted that he could not. To dream, you must first sleep, and as the Horned King well knew, there is no rest for the wicked. Nor could they possibly regain all they had lost.

*Oh how I wish for soothing rain

Oh, how I wish to dream again

Once and for all

And all for once

Nemo my name forevermore*

To everyone that reviewed, thank you like a bajillion times! It always makes me so happy to get new reviews! Whoo! *dances* I'm glad everyone's liking the story so far:) Although to be honest, I'd still keep writing it even if everyone hated it because it's something I have to finish and it's mine and I am exceptionally proud of this thing and I've worked too hard on it to just cut it off halfway through. And it's mine. Lol That, and my best friends would have me drawn and quartered, shot, strung up and various other grisly demises if I stopped. That's besties for ya. Lol! Til the next chapter, y'all! PEACE! 0_0

The song I used is Nemo by Nightwish. The first time I heard this song (and every time afterward XD) it just fit with the Horned King so well...I had to write it in at some point. I mean, I've tweaked a couple verses to better fit with him, but all in all, the entire song seems like it's been written just for him. It matches perfectly so perfectly, it's unreal. XD

Oh, one more thing. To a few certain people that aren't able to review all the time. . .y'all know who you are...*hugs* It's ok, I know you'll review when you can;) Love you guys! =D