Finally! I'm sorry it took me so long to update! But it has been a hard chapter to write, I have pictured it for a long time and I wanted to take my time to make it come out like I see it in front of me. I hope it worked.
And I cannot promise the other updates will come sooner, as I have a full-time job and three evening classes keeping me busy. Next week, I'll be away to a fair we have with work, so probably no time to write much, since I also work the evenings. But I do dare to promise I will write this story to the end. I know where it is leading, and I will get there. In due time. So if you like the story, bear with me.
P.S. Thanks for pointing out errors. I'll make work of revising it as soon as I have a few days off. But for now I thought an update was more wanted .
Disclaimer: Albert Uderzo and Réné Goscinny created the world of Asterix, Obelix and their friendship and I'm just a very dedicated fan who loves to write about them .
It was unnatural to return from a battle in dead silence. Asterix felt the eyes of his friends on him, could feel how their unspoken worries thickened the air. Obelix followed him like a shadow, but he was not the only one who kept watch over him. He felt more backed up than ever, although that was not exactly the best way to put it. They were watching over him and it scared him more than any harm that could possibly come to him. They would continue doing this until they were no longer able to, but if it ever came to that, there would be nothing left that could hurt him. And he understood. He shared Phyllis' need to run from those dear to her, to lock them away as far as possible. To say goodbye to everyone on the very moment you realize that they are the reason you want to live.
She was shivering slightly, looking pale and drawn. Getafix was right, she was ill. Goliath walked next to her, her head brushing Phyllis' shoulder from time to time. Phyllis' lack of reaction showed that her mind was elsewhere; and it was not a pleasant place. He had tried to help her, and she had held onto her horse like an anchor, but she was not getting closer to reaching the shore. It was difficult to try and be someone's friend while he felt the need to lock his own friends away as far as possible. This struggle kept the words of support from passing his lips.
But as they neared their sweet little village, chimneys smoking, the gates open wide despite the many dangers lurking outside, his troubled mind calmed down. He looked up and gave Obelix a reassuring smile, which was carefully returned. It was no use. Maybe they faced a danger that they could not overcome. But they would not let it defeat them before the battle, and let their friendship be ruined by the fear of losing it. It was no exceptional bravery on his part. Phyllis' presence was like a mirror to him. He understood her; at times frighteningly well. Obelix was the one who usually related easier to people between the two of them. But he felt that Getafix was right; Phyllis resembled him. That was why he knew how to approach her. Maybe it was even why he could see her eyes darken and lighten when others couldn't. But most of all it was why he had to fight the desire to face this dark enemy far away from those he cared for. He had the outcome of that scenario in front of him, and it was not leading to a happy ending.
As welcoming as the village itself looked, the picture was ruined by the furious redhead that was waiting for them just past the entrance. He felt Phyllis stiffen beside him, her expressionless face turning livid at once. She did not measure up to her former friend though; it was surprising how someone who permanently radiated softness could suddenly turn so cold.
"Tell me that you beat Mesmeron so easily that it doesn't even show you met him, Phyllis," she said. Her sarcastic tone made clear that she knew they never even saw Mesmeron.
Phyllis was silent.
"Tell me something else then, anything. Anything that makes me understand why you could not just…."
This time Phyllis did not let her finish "Not just what! Watch you break another promise?" She yelled, her powers flashing up to push Bonny back, but she blocked them without her powers even showing. Asterix doubted Bonny was even using healing powers, because her voice dripped with venom as she yelled back:
"I cannot believe you think I would not have protected them! I cannot believe you rather sold out the one person who is trying to be your friend than to trust me!"
"Look were trusting you has brought me Bonny!"
"You are ALIVE! Which is more than you were planning to be!"
"Thanks A LOT for that, I have enjoyed my life so much the past three years! Or no you know what? Make that EIGHT!"
There was no way to interrupt the vicious fight between the two girls, which intensified like a fire in hay. Phyllis' powers were rising up and flaring towards Bonny, but they never quite seemed to reach her.
"Just because YOU have no reason to live does not mean that you have to throw other people's lives away!"
Phyllis' powers dropped. Asterix turned and she caught his gaze for the first time since they had looked at each other on the battlefield. Her eyes were no longer dark, and she seemed to recoil from him. Before he could say something, Bonny went on.
"From the moment you arrived here I have been hoping we could somehow repair our friendship…but you never even gave it the slightest chance. And maybe I should be thankful for that. Because despite everything Asterix did for you, his life is obviously worth less to you than getting your revenge. If Marcus and Biancus had not died helping you, they would have been ashamed!"
Phyllis turned and ran. Goliath followed her, but Phyllis seemed to prevent her from passing the village gates, because Goliath could not cross them. She got on her hind legs trying to get past the invisible border.
Asterix had not in the least expected this. He was half in front of Bonny, fully expecting Phyllis to lash out at her and preparing to prevent her from doing permanent damage. Bonny looked as taken aback as he felt. Getafix marched up to them. "You need to go after her, it is dangerous to have her alone outside in that state. She could hurt herself and others."
Asterix remembered the fearful look she had given him, and he looked at the horse that was walking up to him, head low. He extended his hand towards Goliath, and she did not back away. "I can't… she'll run…" He looked helplessly at Obelix, who just nodded and turned to follow Phyllis.
"What were you thinking?" Asterix said, as the meaning behind Bonny's harsh words started to sink in
Bonny looked miserable. "I don't know," she said, all the power drained from her voice. "I …just…"
"You made it sound as if she was responsible for her friends' deaths. And in case you hadn't noticed, she wàs trying to help us. I understand that it wasn't clear whether we were going to be able to fight, but she obviously just panicked. She was not planning to go after Mesmeron until it became clear he noticed her."
"How could he not notice her! She was storming towards those Romans like…"
"Like someone who was attacking! That's what it looks like when you normally attack!" Asterix yelled, unable to mask his anger, and Bonny's eyes were filling up with tears. He took a deep breath. He did not doubt that Bonny would have shielded them eventually. On time. He did not want her to think otherwise, so he told her.
"I can't believe she just ran off….I was so mad….I don't understand her at all anymore…Oh, but the look on her face as I mentioned Marcus and Biancus….I should never have said that, it's not even true. They would have hated me for telling her that." Bonny's voice broke over her last sentence, and tears were streaming down her face. Asterix had no idea what to say to her anymore. He left the comforting to those who were better in it than him, and went after Obelix. He was sure that he would be no more use there than he was in the village. Mesmeron had destroyed so much more than just lives, and at the moment he felt incapable of fixing any of it. This was not their adventure. It was not even an adventure; the outcome of those was banquet under a starlit sky. Even if Mesmeron had spontaneously died from a stroke upon seeing Goliath, they would barely have reason to celebrate. No, this was more like a nightmare. Only not even the worst nightmare he'd ever had could have explained the haunted look on Phyllis' face before she ran off.
It took Obelix a while to find Phyllis; she had left no trace, there was no sign that she had lost control over her powers. For a moment he considered going back; he did not like to leave Asterix alone, and if Phyllis has simply decided that she did not want to be in the village right now, that was fair enough to him. It was easy to understand why, and she was by no means defenseless. But he knew Asterix would not agree. He had decided to protect her. If Obelix did not bring her back to the village, Asterix would. So he sat down for a moment to think. Would she leave them? He thought not, even if Bonny had scolded her out of helping them, Phyllis would never just walk away from Mesmeron. The roman camps were out of the question; they were not sure where Mesmeron was lurking. And she did not want company, even Goliath had not been allowed to follow her….When he sulked, he went to his menhirs. No one was around there, it was spacious and the monotonous sound of him tapping the solid stone (a very delicate movement given his force) calmed him. It was his own favorite spot, but the beach had a similar effect on him, and no doubt on many others. He headed towards the dunes.
After a few minutes his eye caught a black spot between the long helms of grass, a little in front of him. Phyllis rested her face on her hands, staring at the ocean, probably. He could not see, because he only saw her back and her black ponytail, waving slightly in the chilly sea breeze.
Obelix felt uncomfortable. He was sent here to prevent disaster, but there was no sign of the turmoil that Asterix had foreseen. At least not on the outside. Did she notice his presence? He cleared his throat. Phyllis did not look up. She had heard or sensed him coming.
"Huh, we really should go back…it's not good to be out here alone."
Phyllis nodded, barely visible. "I'll be back in a minute. Please go already….don't leave A….the others alone."
It would have been easy to listen to those words, and ignore their tone. The slightly raised voice, somewhat muffled. It would have been easy to ignore how she could not even say his best friends' name, but wasn't that the reason he was here in the first place? He stepped forward until he stood next to her, and carefully sat down. The end of the afternoon was near, the sun was still up, but if they stayed here for another hour, they would be able to see it set. The few clouds in the sky would not prevent that. Suddenly it felt like an attractive option. To escape the restricted, heavy atmosphere of the village and all the tensions it carried. He sighed. Phyllis mimicked him, but her sigh got stuck halfway in a suppressed sob. Obelix glanced sideward's. Phyllis did not seem to be crying, but he wondered if it wasn't simply because she was too tired to do so.
"Were they your friends? Marcus and Biancus?" The question left his mouth before he realized it. Phyllis cringed slightly. A good five meters behind her, Asterix did the same. He had walked straight to the beach when he first left the village, seeing no other logical place for Phyllis to go. He was about to catch up with her and Obelix, when the latter one's question stopped him in his tracks. It had to be the most painful thing he could have asked her. But it pointed straight at one of the biggest blanks in Phyllis' story as told by her former mentor. Straight to the moment that had separated them. If they ever wanted to fully understand Phyllis, this was the question that needed to be asked. And though it took her a few moments, Phyllis started to answer.
"They were soldiers in the legion that accompanied us to the Forest House. Or actually, we accompanied them…" she paused for a moment. "Biancus was like, as tall as you, despite being only seventeen. His hair was very light brown, hence the name, it's slightly unusual for a roman. Marcus was very different, with his black eyes and hair, and he only a bit taller than me. But they were both like big brothers to me. Especially Biancus, who actually had a little sister…" She shivered slightly. "He was stronger than most of the older soldiers, but he never abused it. Marcus was…probably my first crush." She smiled, though it caused a few tears to drop from her eyes. She made no attempt to hide them anymore. "He was optimistic and intelligent, always joking around with everyone…" She frowned. "Even the day….when Mesmeron made him attack us. It was not like what happened to all of you, you all knew you could expect something to happen. But did you see the look on those Romans' faces?"
He had seen it. They had looked utterly lost. "They had no idea what was happening….they were not even scared of us, really, they were just…."
"Lost," Phyllis completed for him. "I know that now, but somehow, Marcus managed to hide that from me. He even reassured me. He told me to stay in the Forest House, that he would bring the others home, and that he would be back soon. He told me not to worry. And you know what? Despite the fact that he had tried to attack my home just minutes ago, I believed him. And I let him go."
For a moment she stayed silent. But after a few breaths, trying to control her voice she continued:
"He never returned. I pleaded with Manilla to go to their camp, but she refused to let me or anyone go. After almost a week, I slipped away…and as I arrived there, I found them." Despite her attempts, she sounded like the terrified 16 year old who should have told someone this story eight years ago. But she never had.
"They must have died the day they came to the forest house… he hung them in the middle of camp, for all to see, but none of the soldiers did. They did not see them, they…" Phyllis shuddered. "They did not sméll them. They just continued everyday life, right until my screaming startled them. But even then they did not see, they thought I was losing my mind. They tried to tell me that Marcus was on leave, meeting with his father, and that Biancus went with him…..They tried to bring me back to the Forest House. It was the first time I ever used my powers to fight people off."
"I went to find Marcus' father, they would meet in a nearby city soon I knew that. Marcus father is a merchant…I prayed all the way that I would find them there, that Mesmeron was just playing tricks on me, or even that I was really losing it. But they weren't there, of course. Marcus father tried to tell me it was okay, that the centurion of their camp knew how to reach him, that he would have known him if something happened to his son. But he still went back to the camp with me. And I kept hoping all the way back, even as we neared the walls and that terrible smell returned….By then I knew it was not an illusion, I just prayed that Marcus' father would not see them, that he would not have to carry that image with him for the rest of his life….But of course he did. And so did all the others, because the illusion was gone the moment we arrived." She held her face in her hands. "I thought that I would never see anything more horrible than that, but when Marcus father turned to me, realizing I caused their death, his face became the one that haunts me, every time I think of them, of Mesmeron, of roman camps…every time I try to fall asleep.
Asterix knuckles went white as he tried to get a hold of his anger. This very moment, he realized what state it took to be immune to Mesmerons' illusions. He knew that they would not touch him now; his seething mind was not open for any distraction. Normally he knew to shake off his anger as quickly as it came to him, but this feeling was too strong to push away. He know fully knew what danger was facing them, and but the uneasy sense of trepidation was gone.
Manilla had told them Mesmeron killed Phyllis' friends. He had known. But it had never really seeped in. Phyllis' words gave them a name, a face. Phyllis' words opened up the immense cruelty behind the Mesmerons act. Romans killed in battle….they would have killed him a hundred times already if not for the magic potion. Yet he had never hated them…they did what they were told, sometimes not for the best of reasons, sometimes because they really believed the roman civilization was a blessing to spread. But Mesmeron…had it even been a punishment? Maybe, but not for Marcus and Biancus. The other soldiers did not realize their fellows were dead, it was not meant to scare them. No, they died as payback, a petty revenge against the girl who had prevented Mesmeron from getting what he wanted. Maybe, just maybe, it was meant to scare her off. If so, it was a small comfort to know that this had backfired on the man completely. No one who had even the slightest insight in other people's feelings would have believed Phyllis to crawl back in fear after something like that. She could never have.
"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry!" It came out as a squeak, and when Obelix did not react, Phyllis continued. "I should never have involved you in this. I should have stopped him when he went for Goliath. I could have. But I missed her so much!"
Asterix wanted to tell her she was wrong, she could never have stopped him. He had made his decision the first time they met, to crack whatever was holding her captured. Maybe even before. He wanted to tell her that she had not brought this danger over them, it would even have reached them years earlier, had she not stood in Mesmerons way. Getafix would have been Manilla's only resort. He wanted to tell her she was not wrong today, and most of all that she was not to blame for Marcus' and Biancus' deaths….But he did not know where to begin. And Obelix said none of those things. Instead he softly reached out to stroke the Phyllis' back, and when this caused her to nearly choke on the effort to hold back her sobs, he just pulled her towards him and rocked her in his arm. She cried against his chest, not with the loud hysterical wails that Mrs Geriatrix sometimes used to get her way, but with soft, desperate sounds. It was the saddest thing Asterix had ever seen, he could not think of a moment he had felt more sorry for anyone.
Yet Obelix' reaction, so different from what his own would have been, filled him with warmth. He was the better speaker between the two of them, maybe also the cleverer one, though Obelix was often underestimated because of his unique view on the world. But even now, with this girl that was supposed to resemble him, Obelix understood better what she needed than he did. To know that she grieved her friends and that she understood his fear of losing Asterix was enough for Obelix to erase their past fights and literally close her in his arms. It made Asterix incredibly proud to be his best friend.
Softly he walked up to them and sat beside them. Obelix glanced at him, his face a mixture of compassion and anger. It was clear he held the same feelings towards Mesmeron as Asterix. Asterix reached out to hold one of Phylliss small, cold hands. She twitched a little in surprise; she had clearly not noticed him. But when he gave her a reassuring squeeze, her hand relaxed in his grip.
They continued to sit like this for a long time, the setting sun reflecting in their eyes, while Phyllis cries drowned in the soft breeze, finally to die down as the first stars started to appear in the sky. She lay limply in Obelix' arm, overtaken by tiredness. After a while longer, Asterix stood up. "We should go back," he said, a little hoarsely. Obelix nodded and gently picked Phyllis up. She did not even wake up, not even when they started to walk back, and reached the village a little later. Obelix lowered her onto her bed; Asterix pulled the blankets over her. She barely even moved. They went back down in silence.
"I..I need to take Dogmatix out for a walk Asterix," Obelix said, sounding a bit strained. Asterix just smiled and nodded to him. "You do that," he said. "I'll be back soon," Obelix assured him. Asterix smiled again: "I know."
With Obelix gone, the warm feelings that had shielded his previous anger started to fade soon. Asterix felt the need to talk to Getafix, but he did not want to leave Phyllis alone. He got up and climbed upstairs, placing himself on his bedside. He watched Phyllis' face, faintly illuminated by the candle he had put there earlier. The tearstains glinted on her cheeks, and she looked impossibly small in the double bed. The ribbon of her ponytail was stuck under her shoulder, which looked a bit uncomfortable, because it pulled at her hair. He crawled over to her from the other side of the bed, and softly untied the ribbon, pulling the strands of hair free while trying not to wake her. She moved her head, taking a more comfortable position, but she did not wake up. He stroked her jet black hair a few times, which felt surprisingly soft despite being quite tangled. Watching her sleep calmed him again and he started to feel his own exhaustion. His eyes started to close and by the time Obelix came back, Asterix was soundly asleep next to her. Obelix just took the blanket of his best friends' bed to cover him. He shook his head. Despite what Phyllis might think, he knew she could never have made Asterix retreat from this adventure. There was never another option than to support him and protect him, or to die trying. And that was exactly what he intended to do.
This was incredibly hard to write, despite having pictured it in my mind for months. Especially the part about Marcus and Biancus. I have really looked forward to writing this, but while I was at it, it was still difficult….