The Guardian

by heartdamoose

In search of finding her true identity, Numair's daughter faces not only the dangers of prophecies, gods, slavery, insanity, remarkable powers, and unending adventure, but the friendship and unending love of a certain Queenscove knight in training.

39. I Hate You

Arg. Well I do enjoy this chapter—a lot actually. Though maybe if the darn author of this thing would perhaps shorten up the chapters a little bit!! ...jeeze.

Song for this Chapter: Brain Stew → Green Day. This song fell upon me while reading this chapter. I had not listened to this song for a long time...and it just seemed to fit...almost too well. Haha.

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Chapter 39: I Hate You

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The breeze was devastatingly cool to the point that every breath was a pain that held and deepened. There was no light, but there was that devastating breeze, tempting but a poison as it sucked in and out, creating a raspy noise that could break bones. Another gasp, with the same outcome, but worse as the ice diffused quickly…causing a tremble, a sob, a gasp for some freedom from this pain that burrowed and would not go away.

Just a vision, a view of what was really happening would make everything okay. There was no sense of surrounding, despite the fight to gain somewhat of a calm composure and see things for what they were. Even so, the fighting could not push away the mauve haze, black and haunting from every depth of the atmosphere.

There came a flow of panic. What was expressed before was merely an observation of what was happening, as every detail screamed and split in a wave of trembles, sobs, and a small inaudible scream.

Romeli opened her eyes.

She was breathing—no, gasping—heavily. Drowning out any other noise she could possibly hear. Even then, her gulps for a laborious amount of air were nothing compared to the roar of in her ears as the pain throbbed through her body.

This…was not natural.

The only thing she could see was the creamy shade of linen above her. She had never been here before, all she knew was that. The icy air blowing on the right side of her body felt like tiny stabs to her skin—she could not feel anything but pain. Her nose was drenched with the stench of blood, and perhaps a hint of frost.

If it were possible to feel any colder than she did now…

To say the least, she did not know what to do. Not only was she unaware of where she was, she did not remember what got her there. All she was aware of was a deep throb that subsided painfully in her chest, and the cool wind that seemed to kill her wearily.

The biggest temptation to close her eyes and let herself die now crept through her. Though she could compute very little, she at least knew that this sensation was the most uncomfortable in her life, and that dying then and there would take that pain away. It was her instinct, to give up and not give a crap why.

Despite the aching sensation, she knew she could not die. That fact was not out of choice; physically dying was beyond her capabilities.

This was deeply troubling to her.

At the same time however, this awareness of not being able to wait until darkness consumed her made her decide to act instead. Focusing on any one thing was incredibly difficult, but she knew waiting any longer to do what she had to would only make her situation worse.

There was no making a checklist to be sure she was handling herself perfectly. Under the circumstances, she did not care what she had to do, what order, anything. She wanted the hell out of the bone gripping pain.

It must have been the rush of adrenaline that overcame her, else wise, even with her determination, she would have not been able to move. With a raspy moan, she turned her head, ignoring the new rush of screams in her ears as the bones popped in protest; she was unbelievably sore.

Ah…a tent.

This definitely changed things. For one, she was no longer in…well, she had forgotten the name, but she knew previously that she had been captured. There was no doubt in her mind that she had escaped. To add on to her discovery, she realized that she felt no sense of threat; therefore she had to be with Tortall. Either that or the pain she was constantly trembling over was more overwhelming than she thought.

Speaking of the pain, it came to her realization that not only was it unbearably uncomfortable, but terribly annoying as well. The root of such a sensation undoubtedly came from her chest, where a weight, eternal, heavy, and unbearable, strained her breathing and had her half convinced she was already dead. What was annoying about it was the fact that no matter how much time had past since she woke up, the pain would not diffuse any further. There was no progression of it rising or fading away. It more or less sat there, throbbing, but making no effort to shy away as she grew deeper into consciousness.

In her annoyance, she rolled her head back to its previous placement and brought her trembling hand up to the seedbed of her aggravation.

When her hand came into contact with the wooden shaft embedded in her chest, she knew something was terribly wrong. Her eyes widened instinctively and a wave of dread ripped through her, never actually fading. She fingered the piece of wood confused, horrified, and yet curious as to its reasons for being there in the first place. It protruded around an inch from her chest and was around a half-inch thick. It looked like the arrow had been cut—originally it had been much longer, but it had been cleanly trimmed to avoid further damage. It was a respectful act done to the dead…

The last thought hit her severely, making the stench of blood in her nose and the weight of the wooden stick in her chest even more apparent.

In a wave of realization, everything came back to her.

She had been in Scanra as a slave, undercover and striving to get out at all costs.

Her family was there.

She kissed Maggur.

Milkshakes.

There was rain, and she had no choice but to fly.

The spells practically sucked the life out of her.

She fell.

There was an arrow.

Oh Gods…James.

Holy shit. Those words were the only way to express her comprehension of what had happened. Through the memories had come back, they still did not make much sense. What she did know was that she was safe—she had escaped—and in Tortall's camp back to Corus. She was also aware, without a doubt in her mind, that they believed her to be dead.

In the state that she was in, she might as well have been. In fact, dying then and there seemed like an excellent solution. No one would notice. They all thought she was already dead…it would make no difference. She would no longer be feeling the pain lodged straight through her chest. No one would ever fight over her again.

Once again, she realized that she could not. This raised a flutter of frustration through her.

She would have to heal herself.

It was not much of a choice really; it was the only other thing she could do to get rid of such a pain. But she wasn't even sure if she was capable of accomplishing such a thing. Her Gift was most likely horrifyingly weak and weary…not good circumstances for having an arrow through her chest.

A dry sob swept through her, causing her wound to sting further.

Her breathing was ragged and uneven as she realized her lungs must be pinched by the arrow. The idea of living through this suddenly seemed ridiculous to her.

With a bitter determination, her body pushed itself up so that she was now sitting on the cot instead of laying on it. The pinch of the wood was unbearable, causing an agonized scream to break through her. It was completely inaudible. She was severely dehydrated.

She broke out in a cold sweat as she fought to keep herself upright. Her head spun and she thought she was going to be sick as cutting trembles shook through her. Before she could let herself suffer any longer, she put her hand firmly on the inch of wood protruding out of her.

Without further hesitation, she pulled the remaining part of the arrow out of her with the strongest grip she could possibly muster.

Nothing computed through her anymore but her own actions. Perhaps it was the fact that she had gone beyond the point of feeling any further pain. She saw the blood pooling out of her, but did not feel it. She knew she was going to lose herself. She half expected to die right there, either that, or go insane from the traumatic agony.

There was blackness in her vision now and she knew she was barely conscious of anything, yet her hands kept moving. An emerald flame alighted, and she knew she had summoned her Gift and began to heal herself. The sensation was unlike anything she had felt before. It was a type of pain she had never been witness to, the consciousness of only her actions, and even then not even conscious enough to compute she was doing them. She was getting better—she felt her Gift serenely flow through her—yet, she wanted to die. This was not worth it.

Romeli fell off the cot with a gasp. Her dizziness was still horribly present, but she had actually finished. The whole process was much shorter than she had anticipated—a fact that she was thankful for. The Gift did not only heal her wounds, but also gave her half the energy and life she previously had been lacking. The soreness was still present throughout every inch of her body, but she was able to use it with more ease. She could breathe, she was functioning and conscious of herself and her surroundings, but the weariness that swept over her made temptations of sleep rush through her. Just some time…to recuperate.

No. She could not. She was not finished yet.

With a moan of defiance, she peeled herself off of the ground and attempted to stand up. Her legs were uncontrollably shaky. In fact, her whole body trembled. Sweat began to form on her brow in concentration.

She just had to find one person.

With a ragged intake of breath, she pushed herself out of the tent. Her walk was uncontrolled and feeble as she more or less stumbled into the open. No sophisticated thoughts entered her head as she stood for a second attempting to gain her composure. She was acting purely on impulse. All she had to do was find him.

The sky was bright to her eyes, and the sensation of it temporarily blinded her. Perhaps to anyone else, the weather was nothing but average. Her eyes watered unwillingly from the pain. The sweat on her dried in the arctic air and made her shiver severely. She felt her blood run cold once again. She shouldn't be out here, she wasn't healthy, and thus she was only hurting herself further.

But this would all be worth it. And it was not just because of the feeling of self achievement, but also because she had to. She had to tell them she was alive.

There was no doubt that someone had already seen her. She hardly noticed. Her mind was clouded with urges of determination and one goal only. Besides that, nothing else mattered.

Romeli had no idea where she was going, but more or less let her stumbling feet guide her. At the severity of her shaking, she was surprised she had made it this far, but she pushed herself on, always wishing he would be just around the corner.

Oh Gods.

Her heart skipped a beat as she saw him. He was completely still and preoccupied, from the looks of it. James was right across from her, no more than thirty feet away. The thought made her want to fall to her knees then and there, but that alone was not good enough. For whatever reason, he had not seen her…at least from the looks of it.

"James," her voice came out as a feeble rasp. With her final burst of energy, she pushed her feet forward, never actually gaining any sense of balance. Already, she could feel herself drifting off into a faint.

As she grew closer to him, she noticed he looked slightly different, though she could not compute exactly why. She decided to classify it as clouded weariness and left it at that.

Whatever trance he was previously in, he snapped out of as she tried to say his name again. His eyes, something about them, made them fill with disbelief and shock, though from the looks of it, not at her, but at himself. His mouth parted subconsciously as waves of emotion came over him.

She could not keep herself up straight any longer. She made it to him, and that's what counted. Her body came to the same conclusion as she fell, unable to hold her weight.

Two strong hands wrapped around her and held her tightly to help support her trembling legs. His emerald eyes stared at her, confused, shocked, concerned.

"I must be dead," he whispered to himself as he held her tightly. His dark emerald eyes never left hers as a peace seemed to ripple through him. "Who knew suicide could be so beautiful."

She could barely comprehend what he was saying as she juggled between consciousness. With the last effort she could possibly give, she parted her lips and breathed her final words. "James, I'm alive."

Romeli fell limp in his arms, in a deep faint. Her breathing was ragged as her head fell on his chest.

It was then, from the impact of her vulnerable body leaning completely on him, that the realization hit him. The disbelief was beyond recognition. Its vastness was too intense to contain, and so it over swept him in a pool of speechlessness. The only thing he could possibly focus on was holding up her body in his arms. No experience could prepare him for anything more.

Wordlessly, he picked her up and cradled her swiftly in his arms. His attempt to contain the emotions rushing through his head was at a loss. Nonetheless, his expression was mostly blank as he attempted to sort things out. There was only a faint blur in his eyes—enough to depict that he was on the verge of crying. Out of rage, concern, shock, he was not sure.

Gods…he was so sure he had forgotten her. He had forgotten her. Yet here she was.

People began to notice her ragged presence in his arms. There was a growing flow of whispers and murmurs of disbelief.

Slowly, he carried her to her parent's tent.

OOO

"Alas…she lives." The perfect silky voice had a tinge of amusement.

Romeli sat up groggily. She was still dizzy and slightly unaware of her current surroundings. The place was too familiar for her to be completely unaware, however. The flawless forest would always be imprinted in her mind.

"Yeah, no thanks to you," she replied with crystal annoyance. To say the least, she was vexed with her Guardians—if she could even call them that anymore. They were gods, and yet from what she remembered, they only visited her once during the darkest months of her life. Whatever excuse they were going to give her next, she wouldn't even dare accept as plausible for their absence.

The two Guardians in front of her seemed completely aware of that.

This made the situation all the more frustrating. All sense of peacefulness evaporated from the usually serene forest air, though her Guardians were still mockingly calm. "Where the hell were you this whole time?! I need you and you left me." Her voice shook with anger and betrayal.

Old White cocked his head to the side with an innocent look in his beady eyes. "Leave you?" His voice could have resurrected a flower.

"Yes," she snapped back impatiently. It took a lot to make her angry, and the two of them seemed to be quite skilled at triggering the emotion. Her eyes smoldered intensely with firm brows shaped into a betrayed glare.

"Perhaps if you actually stayed with me for once, you would know what troubles I have been through. I'm a murderer, and I'm positive I'm not supposed to be alive right now."

There was still no reply of shock by her words. Their calmness made her regret what she just said as guilt began to develop through her. She bit her lip defiantly.

"Romeli, we never actually left you," pointed out Sclythe smoothly. He flicked out his tongue elegantly, as if he were getting a taste of her emotions.

This time Romeli glared. "Oh, most definitely," she replied dryly. "Why should I have been so scared? Why, my Guardians were with me this whole time! Well, when I find myself close to being tortured to death, giving a king a lap dance, and killing my best friend, I'll make sure to remember that!"

Old White's eyes narrowed in disapproval.

Sclythe flicked out his tongue. "You gave him a lap dance?" His voice was disgusted and yet slightly impressed.

She threw her hands up in the air. "I've had it." Romeli pushed herself quickly off of the ground and gave them a glare before walking away from them. "You would have known that if you were actually with me."

Her storming off was mostly a failure, which made the whole scene lose its intention of anger. Even in her dreams, the dizziness overwhelmed her. It was significantly surprising she hadn't tripped over a fallen branch at the speed that she attempted to storm off with.

A yelp echoed through the thick misty air as a firm, furry body knocked her to the ground with ease. She stared up into Old White's deep stare with a disheveled expression. The back of her head stung from the unexpected impact as the God loomed over her.

Old White did not look the slightest bit annoyed. From the looks of it, he half expected her sort of reaction to the whole situation. His tone was a hint amused as he spoke. "You do know there is no use running, correct?"

She blinked defiantly.

He ignored her gesture as he continued on. "Now we have something to say to you. And before you try running off again, you are going to listen to us and not speak a single word until we have finished. Understood?"

Romeli twitched, but nodded with frustration.

"Excellent," he said getting off of her. Sclythe slithered to his side and settled himself within his coils.

"Now continuing on from what we were saying before," started Sclythe smoothly. He acted as if the whole explanation had never been interrupted. "We were with you the whole time, trust us on that. There is no way you could comprehend the difficulties of witnessing your struggles without going anything about it. We were hopeless and fully dependent on your abilities only."

"But your—."

"Nah uh. No talking remember? You were to say 'But we're Gods'. This is true, but we are just patron Gods of our animals. I am completely powerless in Scanra. The cobra, or any type of snake, is not native in such a chilly climate. As for Old White, yes, there are wolves in Scanra. But he is not wanted there either because of Scanra's favorite sport: wolf hunting. It is hard enough to discretely help you with these factors in mind, much less give you any real advantage in such a dilemma. We are not the Great Gods, and thus can not stretch our abilities internationally."

Romeli mouthed an 'oh' as the factors began to click into place. Still, her mouth twitched in slight agitation. "You could have at least visited me a bit. Given me a few inspirational speeches. Have you any idea of the things I witnessed?"

"You are correct," confessed Old White as he stepped forward a bit. The musty scent of leaves and damp bark filled her nose. "We could have visited you, but we thought it best not to."

She twitched. His opinion was such a foreign thought to her.

Disregarding her reaction, he continued. "Struggle produces character, Romeli. You must understand that no matter how hard you try, you cannot fit in. It would be best for you if we could just detach you from the world and train you ourselves, but unfortunately things do not work that way. What happened to you is incredibly traumatic, and you will never exactly be the same as you were. This event has made you stronger, perhaps in areas that you can not classify right now, but it truly has. Of course you will feel weak at first…that's only understandable. It will take a while to grasp those events and use them to your advantage. I guess that is where you start your new chapter of struggles. Just remember why you're doing it."

Romeli frowned in thought. It was odd. During all of her time in Scanra, she had forgotten the big picture: the third and final Guardian that would mark her completion of her growth and the beginning of her real journey—finding her true parents. As a reply to his words, she did not say anything, but merely nodded.

"Any other questions?" said Sclythe with a rumbling purr. The relief that came from his concluding inquiry was miraculous.

"Is there an easy way out of this?" Her question was quick, desperate.

To her annoyance, they both laughed, making her brow crease as frustration rose again. Their laughter, omnipotent and chillingly smooth, made her eye twitch to let out a fraction of her suppressed anger.

"An easy way?" repeated Old White with a strong tone of laughter. "You must have realized by now that there is no such thing as an easy way when it comes to your life. Just try and remember that the struggle is half of your development and goal. Pain builds character. Without character, you will not meet your third Guardian."

Romeli's brow furrowed, and she realized that, as usual, they were right. "But…are you saying that the trait of my last Guardian is character?"

A grin escaped to her face. Perhaps if she could guess who her last Guardian was, things would be a lot easier than any of them had anticipated.

Sclythe seemed to read her thoughts. "Ha. Nice try. We are careful in what we say to you. More than you think."

Romeli sighed. "So unfair," she breathed out quietly.

"Oh. Very fair," countered Old White. His tone was amused but had a sense of seriousness to it. "You are closer to obtaining your final marking, but there is much to cover…much to happen. It isn't over just yet."

A sense of dread filled her, but she shook it off quickly after. Worrying about the future was nothing but a waste of time right now. She wasn't even awake.

"Well, it's nothing to be concerned about for the time being," she cobra comforted with a curt nod. "You'll be able to speak to her eventually."

Romeli's eyes narrowed. "Ah. So my last Guardian is a girl, then?"

Old White twitched.

Instead of trying to cover for their sudden breach of information, they merely shrugged it off.

"Good-bye Romeli."

Those last words became further distorted as they echoed and faded in a mauve cloud. She was senseless and light as the rainforest drifted into her dreams.

OOO

There was a chill beyond the capacity of existence. It was equipped with knives that stabbed at any animation—only after it hit did the deafening rushes whip past her. The pain did not swallow or throb, but instead deepened and held in a stubborn push of agony beyond her comprehension.

Dread came in pools of throbbing as she attempted to run away. There was no exact definition of her antagonizing enemy, but even still, she tried to escape but could not. A sense, it swept her and instructed her to move and find it. There was nothing to find, and yet she knew she had to. Searching, searching, not moving, but running away. The sensation sent quaking trembles her body was unable to complete as her breath collapsed in a chasm of ebony haze, all in a fury as it scattered and sunk into indifferent, invisible, and continuing particles just centimeters past her reach. It was the frustration that was so horrific; the frustration, and the blood.

The blood overcame her both in its stench and the thick, slimy sensation that followed after as if filled her in her mouth. She could not breathe…Gods let her go…she could not breathe.

"I am very pleased with you, you know," he said lightly as he gave her a serious look. "Such an action may have been hard for you, but it served as a symbolism. His body is gone now, and with it your life at Tortall completely—and now begins our partnership, Romeli. I am honored to work with you." He nodded at her curtly and got up to fetch a bottle of what looked like wine. "Care for a drink?"

There was a crack that drifted into a blood curdling scream.

Romeli shot up in the soft surroundings that was her cot. Only when she realized that the scream was her own did she stop. Her heart was breaking into pieces, sending shards of unforgettable pain throughout her. She clasped at her chest as sobs overcame her. It was falling…her heart…failing…can't do this.

Delirium overcame her beyond the point of sight as two hands gripped her firmly and pressed her against the cot again. Despite her struggles, they held her completely still as voices echoed throughout an expanse of consciousness.

"Good Gods."

"What the hell are you doing?! Don't just stare, you're the healer!"

A rush. Another pair of hands at her side. One of the hands pressed at her heart.

Romeli winced as her eyes opened further, yet only blackness could be seen. She attempted to scream. "It burns! Please, please, it hurts! Make it stop!"

"Gods, what the hell did you do?!"

"How am I supposed to know? Her heart is fine!"

"Some bloody healer you are! God dammit, Romeli. When you get out of this, I am so killing you."

"Wow…she's alive."

"What's wrong with her?"

"Give her the damn water, Numair!"

There was a pause and then a splash of warm water that flowed through her parted lips. It sent chills through her body, but the liquid did little to cease the pain…at least it warmed her from the chilling breeze.

"Maryann?" Her voice was barely a rasp.

The strong voice that had been previously been barking orders froze at the sound of her name. The sound that escaped her lips was barely a rasp, for it had been abused and shred before spoken. The tight pain within each of the syllables choked out was overwhelming, and Maryann could not help but turn to anger as she wiped a breach of tears away.

"Romeli…Romeli, I'm right here." Horror was flowing through the spy's body at the sight of her companion. Her eyes were wide open and blood shot…but she never blinked, just stared at the top of the tent in agony. From the looks of things, Romeli was blinded by pain, unable to see a thing. "Gods…you stupid bloody piece of foolish idiocy, I am so going to kill you after this you overconfident bint. I swear, I will deject you from existence myself!"

Romeli coughed heavily as a contraction of pain erupted. "It hurts…"

"Love, I know it hurts," whispered Daine as she took her daughter's arm roughly. Romeli held the hand tightly as she tried not to thrash out from the sensations throughout her. "Just focus on me, focus and stay calm. We have you, no matter what."

The feeling was unlike anything she had ever experienced before and that alone was what made her unable to calm herself. She could not compare to any previous experience. It was not the bone crumbling sensation of the chaos thoughts, nor was it similar to the heavy weariness of her previous arousing. She could not explain it as anything more painful, but it was the frustration, equivalent to when she woke up that made her lose any desire to calm herself, speak, or gain consciousness of anything around her.

Her body seemed to be in complete agreement with her. Both her body and soul were more than willing to once again give up and die with her previous pep talk from her guardians completely forgotten. And from the sensations that stung through her, her body was giving itself a good shot. Again and again the consciousness of her body attempted to plunge into organ failure, and thus her inevitable death, but each time was denied. Death, no matter how hard she tried, was beyond her capabilities.

At this rate, insanity seemed like the only outcome.

"What the hell is going on?" demanded the voice of her father. "She isn't getting better!"

The hands placed at her frantic and uneven heart grew more frustrated. Through Romeli was far from seeing a thing, she knew the healer was at a loss.

Against her better judgment, she pushed her hand away from her mother and closed her eyes to see what was wrong with herself. Her act was foolish, and she was fully of aware of that, but it did not stop her from acting on instinct: dissolving the pain at all costs.

"I don't know what to do!" replied the voice of the healer, completely defeated. "She was dead. I was so positive! I checked a thousand times…" Her voice faded off as she observed the girl's deep concentration in curing herself.

No one replied to her outburst of panic as they too, watched.

There was nothing wrong with her—not physically at least, and therefore her gift was hardly useful there. She was in a state of shock, for her adrenaline had slowed after she passed out again. Now she was in the real world and the consciousness of every element and pain was loud and clouding. If she had calmed herself, she wouldn't be in this situation, making her feel slightly foolish.

More or less, she shrugged off the feeling and decided it would be the same from everyone under the circumstances. Quietly, she calmed herself with the use of her gift and regained a steady breath and heart rate. Her vision began to clear as the pain dramatically sizzled to nothing but severe weariness and sore muscles. As she looked around, everything was bright and slightly glazed with an unclear structure. Everything looked swollen and watery as she attempted to adapt. It was only expected; there was no way to completely put herself in control.

Romeli blinked as she stared at the small group of people around her.

"Oh thank the Gods," whispered Numair. His face was etched with a sallow weariness and concern that had left permanent lines on his features. Without any hesitance, he went to his knees at the side of her bad and wrapped his firm arms around her with ease. Romeli, finding herself beyond exhaustion, let her head bury itself in his shoulder.

"Get out of the way. Wha…what the hell are you even doing in here? Get out, let me through." Romeli looked up at the sound of the familiar voice and saw Maryann push herself to the front. Her eyes were blotchy, making Romeli's heart tighten.

"You little idiot." From the look of the relieved anger on her face, it seemed like the spy was about to slap her back to the Realms of the Dead. Her face softened, unable to hold any sense of a hard composure as she touched the girl's cheek. Maryann gave her a heart warming smile. "Mark my words, I am never going to forgive you for this."

"Sorry," she rasped out again as she slowly began to gain more composure. Her body was balancing out again, sending relief throughout her. Even her voice, previously on the brink of being inaudible, was gaining somewhat of its natural tone.

If Maryann could have slapped her, she would. Instead, she glared at the girl and shook her head with closed eyes. "And she apologizes. The idiot."

Romeli attempted to glare, but her body was heavy against the bed. She was sore in places she thought were impossible, which made her current position rather frustrating. She hated being in such a vulnerable state.

The spy, the sole hope that she had been given through her two months of torture, looked around the room with a cold expression. "Honestly people, she just woke from the dead. Ever heard of respect? Now get the hell out of here before I turn your sorry skin into hide."

Intimidated by the threat, most of them (including the healer) scurried out of the tent without hesitation. The only remaining people were her parents, Maryann, and Alanna.

Daine kissed her forehead peacefully, finally convinced that her daughter would be okay. "We should leave her to sleep," she pointed out as she gave her a final pat on the shoulder.

Romeli winced and she immediately groaned in protest. At the moment, she was far from sleep. In giving herself energy from her Gift, she had brought herself awake again. Even then, her Gift had still been abused and shredded in itself. With that factor, she had probably put herself only in a state beyond the expression of weariness. Either way, she would refuse to sleep anyway; not if it led to such a painful experience when she woke up again.

Alanna seemed to be the only one to sense this. She gave her niece a curt nod in understanding and addressed the others. "I think I'll stay for a while, just to be sure. If anything goes wrong, I have my Gift."

Both Daine and Numair nodded thankfully. They would have been more than willing to stay as well, but the shock had taken its toll on them, and they followed their judgment when they thought it best to get an early night's sleep.

Maryann lingered for a moment more, but she knew she had nothing else to say to the girl that did not involve mortal threats. The spy nodded a goodbye to both of them and exited the tent as well.

Romeli let out a long, hearty sigh. The relief that came with the absence of everyone but Alanna made her breath lighten. She did not trust herself alone right now, and Alanna was the best candidate to talk to. She was calm and easy to converse with, and she trusted The Lioness with her life.

The silence at first was awkward, though none of them seemed to mind a little taste of silence. At last, Romeli decided to ask for some water. If they were going to get any talking done at all, she would need her voice first.

"Oh Lord," breathed out Alanna with a faint flush in her cheeks. "And I'm a healer of all things! Forgetting to get you water…?" She shook her head and conjured a flask with the twist of her wrist. The liquid was cold, but bearable to her sensitive state.

Romeli thanked her and set the glass down. "So…" she started, her voice dramatically clearer. "Did I miss anything?"

Alanna grinned at the grim humor. "Nothing exciting," informed The Lioness simply. "Well, nothing exciting that didn't involve you of course."

Romeli twitched and disregarded the second half completely. "What about George?" The picture of him forming in her mind made her heart tighten. She had not seen him in what felt like years, and yet he and Maryann were mostly responsible for the skeletal structure of her escape.

"Better than ever," she stated simply. "We never exactly informed him of your…sorta-death…so he will be looking forward to seeing you, of course."

She was excited in seeing her uncle once again, but could not help but shiver at Alanna's choice of words: sorta-death. She had come across too many sorta-death situations than any one had the right to.

Alanna noticed the darkening in her eyes and knew that she was entering a raw area. It was hard, knowing that talking to her about such a touchy subject would be difficult for the both of them. Despite this, she knew she had to enter it, for she could not let her just cope with these experiences on her own.

When she spoke, her voice was gentle, but not smothered in pampered sympathy. Romeli was not one to enjoy such attention—not even as a child. "Did anything particularly interesting happen during your stay?"

Surprisingly, the question stung her far deeper than she would have ever expected. More than ever, she wanted to withdraw and live only within herself. Forget the world, forget problems. The thought was quite tempting now. She could make her body her own personal shell, and forget whatever happened that put her there.

However, she knew thinking of such a thing was unacceptable. Even the word—stay. Alanna made it sound like a voluntary vacation more than torturing slave bondage. The thought angered her, but only slightly. Alanna was her aunt—and not only was she her aunt, but she did not understand.

Answering the question was a whole other battle in itself. Was there anything that happened that wasn't interesting? She fell in love with her mentor D'mitri, saw him executed because of that, discovered the truth of Maryann, turned into a spy and made herself virtually free from the confines of Maggur's grasp, discovered Maggur's dedicated room to her and the trunk containing the historical scandal of a lifetime, been tortured to mere centimeters from death, underwent chaos thoughts while reliving a nightmare, served her family and friends at a dinner she would never forget, killed her best friend…well sorta, underwent one of the most sexually horrifying ordeals of a lifetime, practiced legendary magic for her freedom, murdered a king, got shot through the heart with an arrow, and for whatever reason got brought back to life again. Nope, nothing interesting here.

Yes, there were many events she could confess then and there, but neither was she ready to confess what she had witnessed, nor was she able to. Now that she was finally safe from any past harm, the vastness and seriousness of what she went through began to sink in. Half the time, she couldn't believe it was actually her who did so many things. It was then that it came to her; she was a victim, and in more ways than one.

It came aware to her that she had stretched enough of her time to think of an answer. In reality, she had so many possibilities she could answer with, but decided to keep it simple.

"I discovered I can conjure dairy products."

Alanna's brows rose, obviously expecting something totally different. Despite the shock, she went along with Romeli's light humored comment and grined. "Well that's fascinating. May I ask what form of dairy product?"

"Milkshake." Her reply was shockingly quick and deliberate. With a moment of deliberation, she added, "Vanilla."

Alanna snorted, unable to contain any sense of seriousness. The tension in the room promptly disappeared, something they were both thankful for. "Anything else?"

Now was her chance. She could tell Alanna everything, and her experiences would all be open for someone to hold with her. Someone else could help hold the burdens of what she did—what she witnessed.

But she knew deep inside that she could not. Even the thought of spilling out what happened…it sent shivers down her spine. She simply was not ready to confess these dark events of her life. It was not that she was selfish—though she knew that sympathy was part of the problem since all she wanted to do was attempt to move on—but she could not handle bringing them up again. Romeli had no idea how long she had been out, but despite this she knew it was too soon to converse about any of her experiences.

Thankfully, she already had someone who understood and literally dragged her through the two months of suffering. Maryann was the only one who knew, and that was all that Romeli could handle.

"No…nothing," Romeli replied. Her voice was a little too shaky for her liking. Alanna was clever, and she knew that there was much more that Romeli was hiding, but she dropped the subject. The Lioness would not push her, and Romeli was grateful for that.

"Alanna," she started with a new concern throughout her. "Where is James?" The last she remembered of him was when she fell in his arms, and even then her memory was vague. To be honest, she was surprised he wasn't in the tent when she woke up again, though hoping for such a thing was both foolish and selfish. She could not help but feel curious though, for if she were going to talk to anyone about what happened, it would be him.

Alanna froze with a new sense of darkness in her eyes and she knew something was wrong.

A crease of worry was reflected on the girl's brow. She did not want to hear the answer, but she knew she had to anyway. "Please…answer me." Her voice was a desperate whisper.

Alanna bit the inside of her cheek as she deliberated over an answer. Shew as not sure of all that James was going through, so she did not have much of an answer to the meaning behind her question. He had never been the same since her death…well…sort-of death, that is. It was like he had been living only half a life—the other half denying anything of her existence at all. And now…well she was not sure of now. Alanna had not seen him since he had carried her to her parent's tent. This sent a shock of worry throughout her as she wondered exactly just what he was up to.

"James is here," she reassured not only to her niece but to herself. "I'm not exactly sure where, but I wont let my squire run off without my permission."

Romeli nodded and soon regretted moving right after with a wince. "Okay. I dunno…I was just expecting him to be here, you know?"

Alanna nodded in full understanding. Her expression was sorrowful and Romeli knew she was hiding something. It was all for the best. Alanna did not want to break her heart…only James could do that, and she knew that once the two of them talked, the consequence would be miraculous, or a disaster.

"James is…coping, Romeli. You must understand that you gave him a scare…more than one."

Romeli reflected a half-smile in agreement. Even then she could not help but shake away James' last words to her.

"I must be dead…who knew suicide could be so beautiful."

Her crease of concern deepened as the words echoed through her with a heart tightening impact she could not explain. "Just…as long as he isn't doing anything…stupid."

Alanna's expression darkened at the meaning behind her words and began to wonder just how much the girl knew. "I would never let that happen," she reassured in a whisper.

Romeli felt comforted by those words and settled further into her bed with a wince. With Alanna's reassurance, she felt herself succumb to a hint of inner peace. She could finally relax after so many days—now that she was alive and free once again. The thought was overwhelming and a tear…to her embarrassment…breached through her control of emotions and escaped down her cheek.

She was actually free.

Alanna wiped the rear away with her thumb and gave her a warm smile that made Romeli flush—the sympathy was coming again. Alanna noticed this quickly, and stood up straight while clearing her throat awkwardly. She was not exactly sure what was going through the girl's head, but either way she would be there for her…whether she liked it or not.

Then Alanna peered at her oddly, though with some discomfort, as she deliberated how to get her point across with the right words. "Could I just as you one final thing?"

"Of course."

Alanna hesitated for a moment. "What are those scars from? On your neck?"

Romeli's brows furrowed as a new confusion settled inside her. She had many scars, but as far as she knew, none on her neck.

Alanna saw her confusion, making her heart rate increase. How could she not notice them? The Lioness peered around the room for a moment, looking for a mirror. Concluding that there was none, she formed a hard metallic substance with her Gift and handed it to Romeli to look at.

The first thing she noticed was her reflection. It almost made her wince. She was horribly pale, with dark circles that almost looked bruised under her constantly chaotic eyes. And though her eyes still changed color, slowly fading from green to blue and back again, they were dull with weariness and changed more laboriously. Her hair was the only feature that looked as vibrant as usual. There was a scar on her cheekbone, and bruises sprinkled across her face. Just as horrific was the bite mark on her jaw line that with no doubt came from Maggur. She would have to heal that soon before anyone asked questions.

The second thing she noticed was her neck, and Alanna was right to ask what it was from. The scar—more like a design really—was wrapped completely around her neck like a tight necklace. The design was intricate and made her slightly breathless. Whatever had caused it was surely not any form of weapon—for it was too beautiful (and haunting, she thought with a shiver) and flawless to be produced by human hands. She did not even remember acquiring it, which sent dreadful confusion throughout her. When she brought a heavy hand up to it, she noticed the scar was an indent in her skin, shaded just slightly darker than her natural tone.

"What the hell?"

Alanna too was confused. It was now obvious to her that Romeli had no idea of their orientation. She personally had never seen anything like it.

Romeli looked at her aunt with widened eyes. It was aware to both of them that she was growing tired again. "Alanna…I have absolutely no idea." It was impossible for her to voice the amount of awed confusion buried in her. Her voice when she spoke confirmed that she was in a daze.

Alanna regretted ever pointing the scar out, but knew it was better she told her now then letting her find out for herself. It was all so strange…and to think of what trauma Romeli was going through right now…

With her best judgment, Alanna gave the girl a friendly tap on the knee. "I better leave you," she started, her voice reluctant. "You need to get your energy back, and I've exhausted you enough." Alanna gave her niece a warm smile. "Make sure you drink plenty of water."

Romeli put the makeshift mirror down and rolled her eyes. Her tone was exasperated. "Gods, woman! What are you, my mother?"

Alanna grinned wickedly. "Close enough."

Romeli groaned, but gave her aunt her promise to drink a healthy amount of fluids. Alanna left with a reassured nod, leaving Romeli to settle down further into her bed.

Hopefully she would have a little talk with her Guardians.

OOO

Romeli had visited her Guardians over the night, but they had nothing much to tell her about her scar. That they would not give her an answer was frustrating for all three of them, and it was obvious that the meaning of it was crucial.

She could still hear the urgency of their words as she began to wake up the next morning.

"You must search deep within the experiences you went through during your captivity. Be thorough as you think, and the answer will come to you. It will take time, but it will come…much like when you discovered you were the object in the Prophecy."

Here, Old White paused as he formulated the best way to speak his next sentence. Sclythe sat wearily beside him.

"Unfortunately, time is of the utmost importance right now. There is…"

He had hesitated.

"…a change of plans. And though you may feel like this chapter of your life has ended, your journey has just begun. To our dismay, we have no permission to help your prepare—yet."

There was a growl of annoyance behind his voice that made Romeli shiver as it swept through her. It was the first time she had ever seen him…both of them, as truly furious, and this worried her deeply.

Whatever lay ahead of her was beyond her comprehension, and more importantly…it was beyond her power.

It was apparent in their voices that if she were to go through whatever was going to happen to her within the week or even month, she would inevitably die.

Such a thought was absolutely beyond her. How could anything possibly be worse then what she had previously gone through? For half the time she was convinced she was in nothing but hell. Fear vibrated through her body as she closed her eyes. How was she to cope with this?

It was like life never gave her a break to recover, and because of this, she grew weaker with each new adventure. So how was she supposed to fight whatever conflict was ahead if she wasn't even ready now?

The temptation to push it away was strong in her mind, though she knew she could not. She had made that mistake before when trying to decipher the Prophecy, and that only put her into further trouble. Even though she wanted to push away whatever was going on, it had to be at the top of her to-do list.

As she sat up, her muscles screamed in tightened protest. The soreness still nesting in her body reminded her just how recently she had escaped from her previous problems. The events began to haunt her again, which led her to the conversation with her Guardians following after their expression of anger.

"Romeli…"

The voice was undoubtedly filled with concern as Sclythe spoke.

"How are you doing?"

The question was an unexpected one, and it was hard to stop the tears that had come to her eyes. She couldn't remember them ever asking such a thing from her before—usually they would just warn or support her. The question itself was what really tugged at her heart. Because they had never asked such a concerned inquiry about her before, it reminded her just how vastly dark of a time she had gone through.

"I'm fine."

It was a lie; they all knew it.

"I know of your way of coping, and I will give you this."

Old White's voice was strong and sure as he continued.

"You are very strong, and perhaps what you're doing is for the best. You are bottling up your own problems, covering your pain, and hiding your fear to protect your people, are you not?"

She had nodded weakly.

"I have nothing against your decision. It is best for your future, to walk away and push your experiences away from your better judgment and your mind. But completing this is hard Romeli, do you understand that?"

"I understand."

The agreement was quick—she was already dedicated.

"Telling them what happened to me will scar them and pain them. Even now, I feel like I can barely connect with Tortall anymore."

Barely connecting was putting it lightly. She felt more like she had been taken out of the world and placed back in it at a totally different time period.

"You will have no one to reflect with, no one who will understand. You will live in your own misery, forever scarred."

"I have Maryann, and I have you."

She knew her voice was more sure then ever—three people was enough, wasn't it?

Her Guardians seemed to believe differently, though. When Old White spoke again, a disappointed growl subsided in his chest in his that made her fight a shudder. He was fighting a new wave of fury.

"Even then, you will never resurface. No matter how hard you try to move on. Trapped completely in the past, unwilling to move on with the support of your friends and family. You can't honestly want that for yourself."

"If that is the case…then so be it."

Old White was furious, but the tone of her voice made it aware to them that the topic was over and nothing…no one… could ever change her mind.

Her chin slightly quivered as she reflected over the conversation. Even still, she had meant it, and she would be fine. People to talk to or no, she would make herself fine. Her next adventure would keep her busy, and she was thankful for that.

She finally got up off of her bed and stretched out her arms and legs. No longer did she feel weak, but the soreness would be much easier to handle with moveable muscles.

Her room had changed since she fell asleep. It previously looked like a deathbed, holding a grim atmosphere that even smelled like her blood. Now, it was much livelier. There were multiple flasks of water and a bag of clothes at the foot of her bed. She had forgotten that she had absolutely nothing when she attempted to escape.

There was a flash as a memory ripped through her. The thump of the arrow impacted her with a breathless echo. Not even a scream could escape her mouth as she got picked clean from the sky. The blood fell the ground quicker then she did.

Romeli rubbed her temple as she tried to shake the frighteningly vivid image from her mind. She decided to take a swig of water from one of the flasks; surely it would help clear her head.

There was still one more thing that she needed to do.

The thought slightly surprised her, and it was then that she remembered.

James.

She still had not seen him since she fell in his arms a day ago, and this had her slightly confused and concerned. She knew she must have impacted him hard, but even then she had to talk to him, for both of their sakes.

Right now she was weak, she was scared, and he was the only one she could truly confront. No judgments. No jokes. Just understanding.

Without causing any further delay, she got herself dressed in a green shirt and grey breeches. She ran a comb through her hair, but did not bother with working out all of the tangles—like she would be able to in the spans of five minutes anyway.

Outside it was blindingly bright, though not as much as the last time she had stumbled out her tent. Romeli adapted to it quickly and took in her first full gulp of fresh air in days. It stung, but oddly enough, it was peaceful.

She was not sure where James' tent was or even he himself, but again, she let her feet guide her, and all the while ignoring everyone's prolonged stares as they passed by. Romeli had no idea how long she would be able to take so much attention. And it was just the beginning, she thought with dread.

Romeli walked around a couple corners, always keeping her eyes open. There were not many people around, something she was thankful for, but even then he was nowhere in sight. Where the hell was he? It wasn't like this camp was large or anything.

Her thoughts had impeccable timing.

Romeli's eyes widened and her heart skipped a beat as he fell into view. His back was towards her as he gracefully groomed his horse, either deeply focused in his work, or in a trance of thought. The horse, an elegant shade of brown and a hint of red, seemed content with her master's work and was feeding on a patch of grass. The horse acknowledged her presence with the flick of her ear—an innocent action as seen by James, and returned to the grass again.

She did not exactly have the temptation to walk up to him. Not yet at least. Romeli was content at just staring at him for a moment longer. His hair had the same amount of disarray to it, though it had grown slightly longer from the traveling. He was wearing a grey tunic with black breeches that accented his lean and yet muscular body. He had begun to fill out his clothing more, his chest lightly pressing against the thin material of his tunic.

Romeli blinked. How come she was only noticing this now?

She exhaled shakily and decided that she could not let herself just waste time staring at him. It was weird that she was suddenly nervous. Just a couple of weeks ago they had been on their daring adventure at the Peace Ball.

A lot changed in a couple of weeks.

Shaking away the uneasy feeling that had settled in her, she stepped forward, holding her hands in front of her anxiously.

James heard her footsteps and turned around from his work. His eyes widened when he saw her.

Romeli took a step back, suddenly shocked. His eyes…something happened to them. "James…?"

He seemed to be at a loss for words as he fought what looked like an inner war. There was recognition in his face and what looked like a shadow of hope—slowly it turned into denial and he was back to the same look he had worn previously, only this time he was swept back with a despair he did not want to admit.

The silence played on for what felt like eternity, but neither of them could do anything but stare. James was looking for hope, Romeli for acceptance.

"Hi…," he started. His voice cracked and he winced. He dropped his gaze to the ground just in front of her.

Romeli was not sure what to do, and it took all the effort she could muster to stop herself from running over to him and giving him the biggest hug she could—thinking such actions were incredibly foolish. Alanna had told her that he was coping…and she knew she would have to be hushed with her emotions—as she would also have to be hushed with herself.

"I…don't exactly know where to start," she whispered, indecisive over where the conversation would lead.

James looked up through his lashes, but quickly averted his gaze to the ground. He nodded stiffly—the inner war still seemed to continue.

"I'm sorry." Her voice was barely a whisper as a lump that formed in her throat choked her words. Her eyes glazed over and she blinked rapidly to keep away the tears—she would save the crying jag for later.

He looked up at her startled. The confusion in his eyes was overwhelming, but it lasted briefly as he pondered over his jumbled mix of emotions and words to reply with next. He clenched and unclenched his fists tightly. "You died."

Romeli blinked—it was her turn to speak. It felt almost like a game now, both of them choking out elementary phrases to keep the conversation going. "I know."

There was a flash in his green eyes that was noticeable even at the distance she stood from him—more emotions. He was beyond comprehending what those sentiments were however, and instead turned to anger and frustration. It came aware to her that what had happened affected him deeper than she had thought.

He ran through his hair with smoldering eyes that dug into her own. Her heart skipped a beat—the look he gave her, reminded her deeply of the phrase if looks could kill. "Do you have any idea what you did to me?! You died! Have you ever experienced something like that?!"

Romeli's heart tightened and she took in a ragged breath. Had she? There had been a few close calls…but no. She stayed silent—though speaking was beyond her abilities at the moment. The sudden turn of emotions he lashed on her had her taken aback.

"That's what I thought," he chuckled blackly. His eyes still held the same amount of blazing anger as he whipped out on her, low and harsh. "You were taken away from me, and that alone was devastating. Then you die!" He was evidently shaking now. "I felt…Gods I don't even know! Like half of me was missing! You are…were…my best friend, but I could not handle that. There was no way surviving without you was possible."

Romeli's brows furrowed in shock. It was like he was blaming her for everything. Could she exactly help what happened to her? Sure, perhaps if she worked a little faster, flew a little quicker, none of this would have happened. But she could not help it, could she? And his other words…not only did they sting severely, but they angered her too. "Are you saying that my death obliterated our friendship?" she asked with an equal amount of coldness and disbelief.

"I don't know." His eyes were as ambivalent as his voice.

"You're being ridiculous," she countered as she glared at him. "I can not help—."

"Oh, but can't you? Hell, if you can bring yourself back from the dead, why can't you stop yourself from dying in the first place?! It would surely save us some time wouldn't it?!"

"How am I supposed to know?!" she demanded as she threw her arms in the air.

"Don't be stupid. You can do everything. You saved your father, you saved me, you save every fucking thing you can get your hands on, but you can't save yourself! The pain I felt…" He shook his head as if trying to shake away a dark memory.

Well at least he was now referring to her in the present tense.

"James, why in the world would I ever purposely do that to you?" Her words were quiet…hurt. "Do you think it's easy? Do you think I like giving people a scare, going off for two months, and dying? If I could have saved myself I would, but I couldn't! Why don't you accept that James…I'm not a God! I'm no more perfect then you are. Deal with it."

He disregarded her with a glare. "I tried to forget you ever existed," he confessed in a low, harsh whisper.

She froze at this. Had she really caused him to turn to that last resort? Part of her was touched that she ever meant that much to anyone, but even then, she couldn't believe…Romeli looked down and glared at the ground.

"It worked." His tone was hard.

She looked up at his eyes—they were completely indifferent. Her heart shattered and she felt herself coming to pieces. "So that's it then? You're going to continue your life in denial just because I gave you a scare?" She was beside herself with disbelief. "What the hell happened to you?"

"A scare?" he repeated with a bitter laugh. "You're putting it lightly. I forced myself into so much abnegation that I hardly recognize you anymore. I don't even know if you're real." Still, he was heedless to her.

Her heart ripped once again and it took a strong effort to keep herself from grasping at her chest and holding herself together. "I swear to you, I am real. This was not my fault, James. How could it be?"

His voice was dry. "Then who's was it? Mine?"

"What?!"

"I saw the archer. I saw him minutes before he shot you."

"That doesn't mean anything."

"I could have stopped him."

"No…you couldn't."

"Are you saying I'm weak?"

"No! James, what the hell?! I'm saying you would have given away your position!"

"Well if it means saving your life, isn't it worth it?"

"Thank you."

"That wasn't a compliment!!"

"Well what was it then?!"

"Gah!" he ran his hands through his hair, frustrated. His green eyes were smoldering but were gaining their color. "Are you real?"

"James…of course."

"And you came back to life?"

"Yes. I don't think I ever died."

He froze. "You had no heartbeat. I carried your dead body. I held it in my arms. I was soaked in your blood. You died."

She shivered at the visual. "Fine…I came back to life." What difference did it make anyway.

"Do you remember your captivity?"

Her expression grew a shade darker. "Of course. What does that have to do with anything?"

He ignored the latter. "What happened?"

She froze and a wearied anger swept through her again. She rubbed her temple and closed her eyes to shove out another flashing memory. "Lot's of stuff. But it doesn't mean I'll tell you. You deny my existence, deny our friendship, and accused me of not being able to save myself. Give me five reasons why I should tell you anything anymore."

He was taken aback. "We went through so much together," he whispered, dazed.

"Oh good, that's one. Now where are the other four?"

He didn't reply.

She felt slightly guilty. She confronted him after all, and promised she would keep her cool. Despite that, it did not shake away her anger as it should have. "Why would you demand such a question of me? It's…you're being a jerk!"

He glared at her. "Well I'm sorry I'm not perfect like you then."

What…?

"You can't honestly think…"

Silence.

"James…saying that is…it's stupid! You know how much of a mess I am. It doesn't matter, what I'm good at! I could care less right now. Can we please just get back to our lives again?"

"If it doesn't have you in it."

Her heart probably should have stopped all together as another ripping pain swept through her. Had she really just heard what he said?

"What?"

"You heard me."

"Why?!"

"Because you died."

"Yes I know," she snapped irritated as control surrendered to panic. "But I'm back now, James. Forget it! Why would you not want me in your life anymore? I'm here!"

"You died. Days ago."

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Whatever the hell he was doing, she would not…could not…accept, and because of that, she had to do something. Him doubting her existence when she was standing feet away from him—it was ridiculous…no, it was worse…it was insane! What thoughts had gone through him to make him stoop to such a level? But it didn't matter—she would do anything to get him back to the real world…it had gone on long enough.

Without any hesitation she cleared the distance between him and grabbed his face in her hands, smashing her lips against his own in a deep kiss. "That was for supporting me no matter what." And then she slapped him mercilessly, glaring at him as he put his hand to his cheek in a daze. "And that was for giving up."

With that she started to walk away. Her walk was deliberate and impressive considering the amount of soreness throughout her.

"Romeli…wait…"

Romeli grinned with her back still to him. Gotcha.

She turned around, making sure to keep her emotion's equally as cold as he stared at her with a new light in his eyes—her touch, it looked like it had literally brought color to his features. "I tried to forget you." He closed his eyes and shook his head. "That's impossible."

"Glad to see we're on the same page now."

He shook his head again, and looked straight into her eyes with all seriousness. "You scared me. You really truly…put me through the biggest most tormenting moment of my life. And you may be thinking that what you went through was worse than I think, and I believe you, but you don't understand. Those two months were a living hell for me. It was like…well…like when Maggur captured me and you were in Corus, only this was two months. And when I do see you again, you're beaten and bruised, broken. You were dead then. I had hopes when you gave me the note and it was all just a crafty game. It seemed like things were going to be all right, and that was a relief. But when you're finally free…you're dead in my arms...with me as the only witness." He unclenched and clenched his fist again to vent out some emotion.

A tear slid down her cheek that she could not help. She did not even bother wiping it away, no longer did she care. She had no idea… "There is no way in words that I can express my regret for having you go through so much. But whether or not you want to admit it right now, you know me, and I would never do that to purposely cause you so much pain. Both of us…we have gone through an ordeal that has ripped us apart, but in the end will make us closer. Do you not agree with me? Please James, take me back. You are my best friend and I am nothing without you."

"Romeli…" he paused as he realized he said her name. It did not feel odd on his lips as he had expected, but natural. His eyes glazed over and a lump grew in his throat.

She looked deep into his eyes with anticipation.

"Just…give me some time." His voice cracked twice.

Her shoulders fell, but she nodded. She understood and it was to be expected. Romeli gave him a weak, lingering smile before walking away and leaving him to his work once again.

Time. Time was fair enough.

OOO

Still no James, though this was half expected since they had their fight only yesterday. She tried her best to ignore him, something she thought would be virtually impossible—it was easier than she thought, since he had no hesitance in ignoring her.

After drowning in the immeasurable chasm of old-fashioned sympathy at least three times from everyone in camp, she was relieved when the king ordered them to pack up and begin the journey back to Corus again.

The whole day on the road was spent trying to avoid drawing any attention and eventually reaching her haven of peace and quiet in the back of the train. Thankfully no one attempted to dawn a new conversation on her. The only thing she noticed was Maryann, who would occasionally twist her torso around and give her an odd look.

Yes, the spy was incredibly inconspicuous with her surveillance.

She shrugged off her odd behavior and more or less blamed herself for it. She was anxious, weary, sore, and emotionally in pain—all of these most likely planted on her face for the world to see. And it must have been pretty bad if it made Maryann constantly look at her like that. Her inability to conceal her emotions raised a flush of humiliation.

Oh great, now a blush to show off as well.

Instead of worrying about her social reputation—or lack of it—she instead turned to a deeper problem that immediately placed fear also on her list of emotions. Whatever was in store for her was currently beyond her capabilities, and she did not know what to do about it. Already, and in no way was she trying to sound conceded, she was beyond the powers that her father would teach her. Her wild magic was past her mother's abilities since she was ten, and she knew there was probably still so much to learn. But how would she learn it? Would she teach herself? Could she teach herself?

The thought was troubling, for even now, her Guardian's earnestness echoed in her head. Instead, she shrugged off the problem (like she had with so many previous ones this day), and turned to another one.

Her decorative scar.

She traced the indentation on her neck, drifting silently into thought. The time to start her revisiting of her events would be now, while she still had the time. It would be painful, but it was also necessary.

Romeli closed her eyes and began at the beginning: her journey to Scanra as Maggur's slave.

The rest of the day's travels was spent in a deep, uninterrupted trance as she retraced her steps through the most horrific period of her life.

OOO

Two days later the party finally entered into the northern borders of Tortall. It was physically noticeable within everyone that their spirits had lifted. Romeli especially felt lighter and happier then she had in well…a while. At last, she was back in her home land.

She still had not spoken to James since their skirmish, and she was starting to grow slightly restless.

What if he never talks to me again?

Romeli shook away the thought as ridiculous. She was just overreacting. Like he said before, he just needed some time.

He was only a few horses ahead of her now, a thought that made her slightly breathless. Even he looked higher in spirits with the entering into Tortall. It must be dawning over everyone that they had actually succeeded, and if James realized that now, perhaps their problems would be over and they could return to their friendship…maybe even…well…

Her memory was quickly brought back to the kiss. It didn't mean anything…right? She was desperate, she had to do something…

She wasn't ready for that, anyway.

Quickly, she cleared her thoughts, deciding that pondering over anything of that sort would only put her in a position that would be hard to get out of. She instead made herself useful again and drifted into the trance that she had grown accustomed to the past few days.

Where she had left off was after her and…D'mitri (thinking his name brought a pang to her heart)…had kissed in the garden.

The two of them were now lounging in her room. Maryann just told them about the arrival of the potions to get her gift back would be in a week. As Romeli observed the whole scene from the outside, she noticed how ridiculously happy she looked with her fingers intertwined in his.

It all seemed pointless to her now. She never really loved him…yet he…well…she couldn't bring herself up to finish the sentence.

Instead, she turned back to the memory that was still playing in her head. Maryann had just left the room, and D'mitri was about to as well.

"Well listen, I need to go read that other book Maryann gave me. I'll see you later, kay?"

The small pang that had previously sliced through her heart now ripped through her in tormenting agony. Though she was no longer exactly inside the control of her physical body, she felt herself clutch the sides of herself to hold her composure. A moan of pain broke through her as she winced, her eyes closed tightly.

Those words…how could she be so stupid! She should have known then that something was wrong. But instead she was only concerned in her own love problems. He died for her…and yet over the past month she hardly remembered it anymore. How come only now she was affected so painfully by his words?

The answer was simple. She had been living in times of so much torment that her only resort of survival was constant adrenaline. Now that she was safe and all of the adrenaline was gone, she felt horribly empty and lost. Romeli hadn't the slightest clue how to return to the life she previously had, and now that she was re-observing every detail of the past two months all over again…she only felt more alienated—with the never-ending throb of twice the pain.

Well…whatever. The pain was necessary, and because of that, she would just have to suck it up and deal with it. It wasn't like she had a choice—that idea was out of the picture.

Defiantly, she returned back to the show. Her spirits lightened as she remembered this day vividly. It was the highlight of her captivity and would leave an impact on her mind forever. The first day she had found out about Maggur's love for milkshakes not only introduced her to a fun life while in captivity, but saved her only a month later.

They had just finished concocting an outrageous meal of spaghetti and a milkshake for Maggur to consume. At the moment, all three of them (her, Maryann, and…him), were quietly observing the show behind the one-way tapestry.

"I. Am. In. Heaven," expressed the king as he leaned back in his chair.

Romeli smirked as she watched him turn to the real food. Watching this scene again in her mind was just about as funny as the first time.

The real excitement began with the first bodily noises that echoed flawlessly through the room. He covered it up innocently in a cough and ate more of his meal. The slaves standing around the room tried to hide their laughter as another noise broke through the room.

Romeli snorted.

The king…ex-king…began to grow sweaty and excused himself to the bathroom. After he had left, Maryann and D'mitri exited the tapestry to fulfill their escape plan that involved chasing her as a rat.

It was odd how much fun they had even in the middle of such darkness.

Once again, the scene changed and Romeli found herself back in the room she slept in. D'mitri was there, sitting across from the Romeli of her memories. He was troubled by something, and her concern for him was reflected in an inquiring look.

D'mitri sighed and looked up at her with serious eyes. As she stared into them now, she shivered. This day also…had left a depictive imprint on her life.

"Listen Romeli, I need to talk to you about something."

"Talk away." The Romeli of her memories had a curious and yet fearful tone. The aura around them both was unsettling.

He took a deep breath. "The thing is, from the bottom of my heart, I really truly love you. I would do anything, and stand up against everything for you, and I want you to know that. I want you to know that no matter what happens in the near future, I will still love you. Even if it may seem that no one is beside you, and no one can help, I will be there for you. I will be there, even if I'm not there."

Romeli's eyes snapped open and she was shot back to her real surroundings. Her heart was pounding loudly in her ears and blocked out all other sounds but her heavy breathing.

Her eyes were wide open, staring blankly down at her horse's mane as she tried to obtain some serenity around her. It was probably pathetic, but she couldn't even manage letting herself blink. All she could see was his deep stare, already aware of his fate.

"Gods," she breathed out quietly as she tried to shake away the building of more emotions. He knew. He knew the whole damn time.

And what bothered her further was what happened after his ambiguous explanation. He kissed her with a fierceness behind it that she had never felt before…

"I love you."

Pools of emotions swept over her as she looked deep into his eyes. He was not right for her, but she could not bring herself up to say so.

"I…love you too." Her voice was a whisper as she smiled at him weakly.

She yelped as her eyes flew back open again. Gods, she wasn't even aware she had fallen back into her memories again.

When she looked up, a couple of soldiers were staring oddly at her. Romeli ignored them as she held her hand to her heart and tried to calm it. Using her Gift to force it to quiet was a reasonable option, but for whatever reason, the vastness of her exhaustion told her not to. It might have been pitless, but over the course of the weeks, she had pushed it to its limit and it needed time to regroup.

She sighed when she felt a headache coming on, and pushed two of her fingers to her temple with closed eyes. The Guardians told her it would be hard, and of course she had not doubted that…but this? This was torture.

A funny feeling crept through her that made the hair on the back of her neck prickle. She opened her eyes again with annoyance and looked for the source of her uncomfortable sensation.

In a breaking instant, a pain swept through her as she caught his eyes. Quickly, she averted his gaze, already feeling breathless. She shouldn't have looked, she shouldn't have looked, Gods. Regret filled her now as mixed feelings overcame her. She was trying to forget this situation, but after looking deep into his eyes, how could she not remember?

How could she not remember his warm lips against her own?

From the peripherary, she knew he was still staring at her…and with an odd expression on his face. Was that concern that she had seen in his eyes?

Romeli tried her best to ignore his gaze. There was no way she could allow herself to show him just how much he affected her. And especially now more than ever, because if he were to ignore her existence, then she should ignore his as well.

Finally he looked away.

Romeli moaned hopelessly. Why the hell does this have to be my life?!

One of the soldiers surrounding her heard her groan and interpreted it as a different meaning. "Bathroom break, My Lady?"

What…?

"Huh? Oh um…no," said Romeli slightly flustered. "But…do you know what time it is?"

The soldier frowned in deliberation as he observed the position of the sun. "It looks to be just a couple hours past noon, My Lady."

Her eyebrows rose. "Really? Well…thanks."

Only two hours past noon, she thought miserably. And there were still more days to come. The thought was tormenting.

Before she would let herself sink into any further thoughts of dread, she hardened her features and pushed her problems back to where they belonged. Quickly, she turned her horse around and headed to the back of the train where he would be clear out of her sight.

Deciding the only way to make time go quicker was by drifting back into her memories, she closed her eyes and continued from where she previously stopped.

It was the next day, and she had been invited to dine with the King. Her memory was vague, which was reflected by the somewhat distorted pictures that she watched. All she knew, and all she remembered was that during that dinner was when she found out Maggur knew about her sneaking into his office.

Everything went blank, and she herself felt like she was about to pass out as she sat in a complete meditative trance on her horse. She knew she had been kidnapped.

The space between that last memory and her next was vast, and it was only until later on that she learned why.

Once again, the scene came to life again, but this time it was placed in the atmosphere of one of her worst nightmares. The smell, wreaking of her own blood, felt so real that she had to gag. The Romeli of her memories was chained to the blood soaked table across from her and slowly drifting back into awareness.

Gazing at herself now, she could not help but widen her eyes in horror. It amazed her…how the hell had she survived in that condition?

It was the adrenaline.

The door crashed open and the two of them as one were engulfed in fear. The man was carrying a whip that immediately made her wince. Soon enough it would be covered in her blood.

"Romeli, this is your last warning. Tell me your secrets."

The look of confusion on her memory's face could only be because of her memory gap. It was only until later that she found out she had been conscious and beaten two days before she could remember anything. Maryann called it trauma memory loss.

"What are you talking about?"

Romeli winced as he came at her with no mercy. The whip cracked severely at her skin, making a large gash at her leg that had made an impressive scar a week later that she could practically sense on her own leg. Her memory cried out in agony.

Maggur walked into the room shortly after with Maryann following behind him. Even looking at her only in her memories sent a surge of hope through her.

"Romeli, Romeli, Romeli. I was expecting better behavior from you. And to think, I actually thought I broke you. Well…I won't make that mistake again."

The hatred in the glare she gave him now made her proud.

"Now I've asked you before, and I'll ask you again. What are your secrets?"

"I have no idea what the hell you're—."

Once again, Romeli winced as the whip cracked against her memory's body. As she fought against her bonds, the cuts caused by them broke and bled. That stupid son of a—

"Romeli?"

Romeli's eyes snapped open as once again she was forced into the real world. Her heart was pounding heavily; her eyes were wide as pain snapped through it. It felt like the whip had hit her instead.

"Romeli? What are you doing? You look like you're in pain…"

To say the least, Maryann's voice was a relief to the agonizing screams that were only a distant echo in her head now. Even still, she was caught off guard.

"Err…"

Maryann's eyes narrowed.

They spy might have been curious, but she didn't have anything to say.

She gave her a look of disapproval. "Romeli, I know you just got back from the living dead and all, but what are you doing? Half the time it looks like you're not even of this world, and the other half of the time feels like you don't even want to be alive at all!"

Romeli blinked. "Maryann…I'm fine."

"Oh don't give me that!" she snapped exasperated. "Whether you try to be or not, it is impossible to be fine so soon after what you have gone through. Please tell me. Whether you like it or not, you need someone to talk to."

Romeli sighed heavily. More than anything she wanted to disprove what Maryann said, that she needed someone to talk to. But she knew, deep down inside, that the spy was right as usual. And of course, if she were to tell anyone anything right now, it would be her. She already knew most of the picture, she was there. She would understand and accept her, she wouldn't say a word, and more importantly, knowing what she knew would not be a burden—she would even help her with it if she asked.

"Maryann…" her voice was hesitant. Hopefully she wasn't making a mistake. "Can you keep a secret?"

"No."

"Maryann, I'm being serious!"

"Fine. Yes, I can."

The question was rather stupid, really. A secret was nothing foreign to one of the best spies in the realm. She shook the thought away before the humiliation would come.

"Well, I trust you a lot. And I know, that you and me will be the only ones who truthfully understand the vastness of what happened. And…to be honest, I need to tell you everything."

Maryann blinked. "Wont that take a while?"

Romeli shook her head. "Wrong choice of words, I suppose. I need to show you everything." Of course, she herself was not even sure if this would work. Maryann did not have the Gift, and even with it, she had never heard of anyone transporting images and ideas to another's mind. Despite this, she just had a feeling that this was something she had to do. It was like some other force was guiding her. If it were up to her, she would never act on such an illogical impulse.

"Can you just promise one thing?"

"I'll try."

Romeli hesitated. It was probably obvious…spies never made promises. "Just…don't make this your own burden, all right?"

Maryann looked at her thoughtfully. "Of course. But…I mean, are you sure showing me is even possible?" There was a look of doubt in her that Romeli itched to disprove.

"Just shut up and close your eyes," she grumbled back. She sent a desperate prayer to the Gods hoping that for whatever reason this would work. She was hardly in the mood to be talking to her about the whole thing. For one, it would take hours, and neither of them had the patience, and for another, having anyone overhear would be fatal.

Romeli closed her eyes and opened her mind to all of the things she decided to tell her. The situation was awkward—for Romeli was found not only doubting herself, but lacking the temptation to show her worst nightmares to her in the first place. Her friend's reaction was also something that she was anxious for. There was no doubt that some of the things she was going to show her were overwhelming.

She started with her Guardians, since with them, it was more or less the beginning of her adventure. She sent her pictures of them, her tattoos, the desire to see her true identity, the truth and vastness of her Chaos Thoughts, and the introduction to her search for 'It' in the Prophecy.

Her thoughts then switched to the details of her own life, her friends, Sharpfang, Shadowdancer, her parents, her interests…

She made sure to not give her anything on James.

And then she introduced Maryann to the current situation. She showed her what her Guardians told her to do in order to prepare herself for whatever was coming in the future. Along with this, she informed her of how she just wanted to push everything away that happened in the past two months (including the scene she had with Maggur before his death, that she was reluctant to share but decided to anyway) and move along with her life. It was obvious to both of them that those two entities clashed harshly with each other, for forgetting her ordeal and yet reliving it seemed impossible. Along with that, she explained her feelings of alienation and how Maryann was the only person who could fully understand her experiences.

Despite all that she did show her, she left out much that was beyond her capability of circulating. She did not once picture James, nor D'mitri for that matter (who lately had reopened the wound in her heart that she once sealed). She did not show her the pain that came with her memories…though that most likely was implied. She did not show her the struggles of her escape, or any other harsh memories of her life. What she showed alone would be enough.

Maryann snapped her eyes open and looked at Romeli with a new awakening. There was a pause as Romeli looked at her anxiously.

At last, she spoke. "You…gave the king a lap dance."

Romeli flushed and propped her forehead with her hand. "Thanks for reminding me."

The spy's eyes instantly narrowed. "Frankly, I am impressed. But mark my words, just because you showed me all that sappy stuff doesn't mean I'm going to be easy on you."

Romeli sighed with relief as a faint smile broke through her. "Thank the Gods."

"But, you have my word,' she added. "I wont be making your own problems my own. Like I would want to anyways…I have enough paperwork."

She nodded. Completely understandable.

"Only remember this. Just say the word, and I will help you as much as you need, understand? We make a pretty kickass team, and I'm not going to let it go to waste."

Romeli smiled weakly as a lump grew in her throat. "Thanks," she choked out. Her eyes were glazing over, and she battered her eyelashes furiously to dry her tears. But honestly she could hardly help herself. The relief that came to her, now that somebody else understood, was overwhelming. And Maryann was taking it like…well, Maryann.

"Oh come off it. Stop being a softy, and pull your life together," Maryann replied harshly. "You're embarrassing me."

Romeli sniffed and smiled at her sheepishly.

OOO

At last, after five more weary days of travel, they made it into Corus. The city shone brightly in front of them with a welcoming gleam that made almost everyone cheer.

Everyone except for James.

She knew looking at him was not the best idea, for every time she did it only brought a surge of anguish, but she could not help herself—not now at least.

Even within the welcoming glow of the palace's sheen cast over the city, he still bent his head down, like he was more interested in his horse's mane than coming home.

Romeli could not help herself. She was slightly angered by this.

Whatever was going through his head would surely sort itself out in a day or two, and it had been four. And now she was starting to get the feeling that he was being ridiculous. Either welcome her back to his life, or push her out of it forever. The choice was simple, and it strained her patience.

She was starting to fear she had lost him forever.

With Maryann alongside her, the party rode through the city and up to the palace grounds. The whole act was mesmerizing as villagers stopped their work to run up to the party. Before she knew it, somewhat of a parade had formed as people stood by the sides of them. They were all quiet, making Romeli shiver uncomfortably.

"Man, I haven't been here in ages," observed Maryann with an appreciative whistle. "I forgot how breathless it was."

Romeli too was at a loss for words, though perhaps for different reasons.

Finally, they made it into the palace grounds. Romeli dismounted the horse, thankful for being able to stretch her legs. Other people from the group seemed to reflect the same thoughts as well as the stable boys rushed to get the horses.

The whole time, Romeli was practically in a trance, in denial that she was here, and yet ecstatic of its existence in the first place. When someone called her name in the distance, it was because she was so deeply consumed in her thoughts that she was caught off guard.

"Look! It's Romeli! They got her!"

Her eyes widened and she snapped her head around to the entrance of the palace. There, at the foot of the couplet of stairs, stood her friends. When she looked toward them, they began to run towards her with wide smiles on their faces.

From the corner of her eyes, she saw James. There was a hint of color in his eyes.

For the first time in weeks, she let everything go. No more problems. No more secrets. No more fears. And with this freedom, she at last let her tears fall and began to cry.

At last, she was home.

---

Yo ho.

…

arrr. To the replies.

Replies:

Cooooolie: oh you are very welcome. I'm always glad when people say I help them maintain mental status. ah. The plot. Of course—the whole thing is kinda rough unfortunately, but I'm trying really hard to tie up everything I put myself into. I guess it's because my creativity always beats my common sense and I end up writing something outrageous. Ta.

Arianna: haha…grief tactic…it most certainly isn't. ummm. No. she isn't dead. Lol. I tricked you.

BlackWidow12: 'ello. I believe I already replied to this review. But I am quite honored to see so much enthusiasm. Sorry I tricked you—I've been known for my plot twists.

Itachihater13: what's an itachi, anyway? Yay for new accounts lol. HAHAHAHAHA… I didn't make her into a zombie tho. Sorry for giving you the wrong idea…literally. Aww danke. That's definitely a compliment I could be proud of. Ack!!! That's such a good suggestion!!! I would write it that way if I didn't have the whole thing already planned out… anywho, I may use that idea for the sequel. It still has absolutely no plot. .

Whispers of Doubt: haha…James' heart is getting better…so no worries. Good god, you're so evil!!! MWA HAHA HA HA!!! I brought her back to life!!!! Tricked ya. But anyway…thanks. I was working hard of making that chapter like…perfect. Hopefully I was portraying the whole situation with a realistic sense.

X17SkmBdrchiczxx: yes…I did kill his soul. No worries…it's coming back (no fun without it after all). OMG YES!!!! You have no idea how much that means to me!!! I was TRYING to make it the most depressing thing ever!! Hoorah.

Kuyaga: proved ya wrong again. No! Kuyaga, don't die!!! Hahaha…what? I was trying to make James realistic…not like a book, silly. And if writers write where the death just gets pushed out of their lives…ack. That's just so weird. Keepin' it real. Word.