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Saturday, March 21, 2015

Empress of Clouds - Part IV The Moon - Chapter 31



PART IV
            The Moon
            


                                                                     Chapter 31
           
           
           
           
            Tolian lay there, racked by desire and pain.  Her eyes were wide and transfixed upon the new nightmare that leered down at her.  She held her nose in a vain attempt to staunch the bleeding.
            “What’s wrong, Moon Goddess?” mocked the Demon’s head, foul and reeking.  “Nothing to say to an old friend?”
            “You’re dead,” she mumbled, almost incoherently.  “I killed you.”
            “A minor setback, nothing more.  Now, not only do I have you at my mercy, safely removed from interfering in my plans, but I have a whole new world to twist and defile.  And now there is no one to stop me in the material world either.  You should have done a more thorough job, he-bitch.”
            “Put that thing away,” Tolian shouted at Dowbreth.  “Or is it your master, Dowbreth?  How did you fall under its thrall?”
            Dowbreth grimaced but a second then his confident sneer returned to his own ghastly features.  He set the head on the table on top of the bag, pulled one of the chairs around, and sat down (facing the chair back) right next to Tolian.
            “Dowbreth has no master,” he said quietly, his rage steeping behind his words.  “Dowbreth is Lord of Faerie now.  The Demon and I have a mutually beneficial relationship—as equals.  But if you are curious as to my tale, I shall tell it to you.  You should know, really.  It will help burn you up with despair as you wallow in your own failure.  It is fitting that you should lose your divine powers; you are not worthy of power.  You are now the worthless woman you deserve to be.”
            “Hah-he-he-ha-hah, worthless woman,” interjected Hertrid’s head from the table, “We are going to have such a fine time with you.  Hah-ha.”
            Dowbreth shrugged off the interruption and continued.
            “I discovered my true destiny on the battlefield of Lorm.  It was I who led the forces of the Sidhe to assist your puny Lormian men against the Demon’s invading army.  Thanks to our troops, your palace was saved and your enemy defeated.  After we cleared the skies of dragons, we brought the fight back to the ground.  Soon, we were triumphant.”
            Not exactly how Tolian remembered it, but she did not bother to contradict him.  It was difficult for her to have him sit so close to her.  Fear and lust for him battled for control of her emotions.
            “On the battlefield, I watched as the Demon almost killed you even then, but for your lucky strike which felled him.  But then, when you could have made certain of his death, you fled to the palace to rescue your beloved.  I, at that time, assumed the Demon had been killed, and I thought to add his head to my trophy belt, a memento of the conflict.  As I took my prize, the eyes opened and the black orbs fixed upon me.  I remember that moment well.
            “I asked the creature plainly, ‘What are you looking at, villain.  Your day is done, your army here destroyed, soon the rest of your forces elsewhere shall fall as well.”
            “‘Is that what you believe, Lord Dowbreth?’ it hissed at me.  ‘You are wrong.  My defeat, my impotence—they are a shroud to hide my true schemes from my enemies.  One day all will be mine, mark my words.’
            “I laughed at the head’s face, ‘Brave words for a defeated foe.  I do not wish to hear your false boasts.’
            “And I stuffed the head in this bag and proceeded with cleaning up the last of the Demon’s troops while you were letting his other incarnation escape with your girlfriend.  I supervised the establishment of the Faerie camp on the perimeter of the palace and secured the arrival of my King and Queen into your world.
            “Once the fighting was over, I grew restless.  I had no desire to associate with our human allies, so I spent most of my time in my tent awaiting orders to move north against the Demon’s other incarnations and army.  It occurred to me that I might be able to gather useful intelligence from my trophy.  I pulled it out of the bag.  Again, those black eyes gazed upon me.
            “‘Dowbreth, has found the wisdom to seek my counsel,’ the head said.  ‘Excellent.  I will tell you what you want to know, and more.’
            “‘You may as well,’ I responded.  ‘You shall be defeated soon enough.  Tell me where is your other army going to strike next?  Reveal to me your plans.’
            “‘Indeed, I shall, Dowbreth who could be Lord of Faerie.  I shall reveal all of my plans to you.  I plan to devour this world, twist it into a nightmare of beautiful chaos churning in the infinite night.  And I plan to use you to help me, brave warrior chieftain.’
            “I grew impatient with the head, for even as I demanded he give me the information I required, he kept telling me that he would, but also that I was a part of his plans.  In frustration, I once again stuck the head in the bag and attempted to ignore it.  But I found I could not leave it long.  I was determined to be the master of the Demon’s head, a foolish notion I now know, but at the time, it did not seem so.  I pulled the head back out of the bag.  I interrogated it for another two hours without making any progress.  I threw the head around the tent, but that simply made it laugh hysterically.  I held it still, for I did not want anyone else to know of my prize.
            “Finally, the Demon began to make sense to me.  It was not giving me the military information I wanted, but was instead laying out the framework for a scheme that would work to both of our advantages.  He was right, I was meant to be Lord of Faerie, and with my new ally, his vast knowledge, cunning, and yes powers, it could be so.  He made me understand.  I had no love of my King and Queen in any event, and he helped me see that there was no true honor serving them.  I asked Kreel, who was my best lieutenant, to take charge of the army of the Fay, while I tended some personal business.  I told no one where I was going, nor did I bother to ask leave of my Lord and Lady.  Who were they to Dowbreth now?  Dowbreth would conquer them in due time, the Demon promised, and he has proven to be true, has he not?”
            “I am Dowbreth’s truest ally,” came a cackling outburst from the head.
            Dowbreth paused a moment, then continued.
            “I decided to trust him and join him.  First, he needed me to obtain something for him.  Something rare.  I set out in quest of it.
            “It took me several months of journeying across the wastelands of the North and beyond.  To a land locked in perpetual winter, somewhere so cold and bitter that it could only be located in your inhospitable world.  For three weeks, I saw nothing but the whiteness of snow.  I rode across of the frozen surface of a sea to find what the Demon wanted.  And find it I did.
            “There was a witch who lived, somehow, in that white desert, in an ice castle set upon an island in the midst of the frozen sea.  The crone was half undead, and she had some power to her.  The Demon protected me from her spells, however, and it was with great joy that I wrung her neck with my bare hands.  It felt good to do so, since it was some time since the battle of Lorm, and I have always relished the giving of death.  She struggled futilely in my grasp, but she could not resist the strength of Dowbreth.  No one can.  I searched the castle until I found that which the Demon had sought.  A dark metal stone.  Black and cold.  It seemed such an insignificant thing for such a harsh quest.
            “‘What is this that you have had me trek across the mortal world for?’ I asked the Demon.  ‘In what way will it serve our ends?’
            “‘This is the key to our victory.  It is the Dark Moon Metal.’
            “I had not heard of it, so I repeated his words, ‘Dark Moon Metal?’
            “I see by the look on your face that you have not heard of it either,” observed the faerie to the princess.  “You make a poor Moon Goddess indeed.  Listen and you will learn much.”
            “The Demon explained it to me: ‘This witch hath distilled this stone over three hundred years from the darkling rays of the new moon.  Her schemes for it are irrelevant now, but through her craft she has delivered to us the means to destroy my enemy and gain you control of Faerie.  We shall use it as a weapon against the druid’s champion.’
            “‘A weapon?’ I asked, ‘Will we use it as a projectile?’
            “‘No, my friend.  The Dark Moon Metal will absorb and nullify the external manifestation of her lunar power.  We shall fashion it as a piece of jewelry, a gift, and bind her forever.’”
            “And he told me more of his plan, much of which I am sure you have gleaned yourself.  I stayed in that ice castle for another month forging the Dark Moon Metal into the bracelet you now wear.  The Demon carefully instructed me in the proper techniques of manufacture.  It had to be perfectly designed and made.  While there, the Demon revealed to me that we already had an ally with whom I could communicate using his head as the magickal means.  Other dark secrets he taught me, and we planned more together.  He told me of the defeat of the other demonic incarnations and the outcome of the war, but assured me that it was not unexpected.  Now, more than ever we needed you out of the way.”
            Tolian listened from her position on the floor.
            “What about Kiliordes? Aren’t you afraid of him?” she asked at last.  “He is the other Champion, isn’t he?”
            The Demon’s head began laughing with malicious humor.
            “There is no other Champion, my sweet,” it hissed.  “And we have no fear of the conglomerate being.  Don’t you get it?  Everything was part of my plan.  I allowed Kiliordes to kill Perelisk.  It bought me the time I needed to remove you from the equation.”
            Instinctively, Tolian shrunk up against the balcony railing.  Terror now flowed wildly within her.  She started to shake.
            Dowbreth stood up, tossed the chair out of his way, grabbed the head, rather roughly by the hair, and stepped towards her.  “You need to be taught a lesson for what you attempted with Kreel yesterday, and what you tried to do to me today, wench.” He knelt down next to her.  She tried to squirm away from him, but he was too fast and far too strong.  He struck her hard again in the face. 
            She was paralyzed by fear.  She was helpless.  There was nothing she could do.  She closed her eyes and summoned the warrior’s mantra to her mind.  She struggled to find the courage within herself to endure.  Fear is for my enemy.  Fear is defeat and the forerunner of defeat.  I will hold no fear. 
            “Mark my words.” 
            She could barely croak out a shattered whisper. 
            “I shall kill you both.”
            The head spat upon her.
            “Understand,” said the faerie giant, “with the Demon’s head I am immune to your transforming energies.  You are nothing compared to the Demon.”  He kicked her hard, several times, following her body across the balcony. 
            The Demon screamed, “Kick her, kick her like a dog.”
               The last blow landed in her abdomen.  The pain echoed throughout her body, until her senses were overloaded with it.
              Dowbreth grabbed her by the hair and brought her face close to his.  “In seven years, we will be married.  You will not escape.  There is nothing you can do to change this.  Remember, the injuries you suffered today were the result of your own treachery.”
            “Come, Lord Dowbreth,” said the head, “Our business here is completed.”
            Dowbreth stared down at her with utter contempt.  “Do not attempt to escape.  Do not attempt render yourself useless to me.  Or we will be back.  Do you understand me?”
            She tried to hold his stare, but she could not.  She looked away submissively.
            “Capreesh,” bellowed Dowbreth.  “Get out here.”
            As the Elven girl hurried out to the balcony and seeing Tolian rushed to her side, Dowbreth said, “Farewell, my betrothed.”  He turned and left.
            The pain was intense.  She could tell that some of her injuries we extensive. 
            More servants came running out.  Kreel was among them.  She lifted Tolian and carried her with great gentleness to the bed.  “Quickly,” she snapped, “get bandages, get pain suppressants, get the healing drugs.  Hurry, she’s already lost a lot of blood.”
            Tolian could barely maintain consciousness.  She looked into Kreel’s eyes and saw genuine concern there.  “How bad do I look?” she asked weakly.
            Kreel smiled reassuringly, “This is not your best look, but you’re going to be fine.  We’ll have you better in no time, okay?”
            Tolian nodded slightly, before unconsciousness engulfed her.
           
            In the morning, she awoke to excited voices.
            “She’s moving,” Delotti said.
            “She’s awake,” said Capreesh.
            As she opened her eyes, Kreel’s smile was the first thing she saw.
            “Good morn,” the bodyguard said with feigned cheerfulness.  “How do you feel?”
            “I don’t know,” Tolian replied.  She felt [KR]If you use “remarkably improved” then you should say “felt” because being aware of something is implies weakness.  Remarkably is a powerful word, so take the active voice.      remarkably improved, physically.  The wounds to her face felt completely better, but she felt considerable discomfort in her belly.  “Yes, I do feel better.  A lot better than I did last night.”
            “Last night?” repeated Capreesh.
            “You’ve been a sleep for a week, dear,” said Kreel.  “Most of your wounds have healed perfectly.  We still don’t understand why, but you seem to have developed some sort of internal condition that isn’t responding to our medicine.”
            She was trying to sound as clinical as possible.  She was obviously deeply distraught.
            “You’re weeping blood from your ...um, female regions.  It’s not just internal injuries and it’s not your period— we have drugs that would have worked, if it were because of either of those.  It’s possible that since you are the Moon Goddess, your exile from the Moon’s rays is causing the problem.  At this point it doesn’t seem directly related to Dowbreth’s attack.”
            Tolian flinched immediately as the memory of her attack poured fully into her consciousness.  An abyss of darkness, a scar across her soul.  A psychic pain radiated through every level of her being.  Tears streamed down her cheeks.  Kreel leaned over and embraced her.  She could not stop crying.  She sobbed and sobbed, clutching firmly onto the feminized faerie.
            “It’s going to be all right, Tolian,” she said in reassuring tones.  “I won’t let this happen ever again.  I promise you, he won’t touch you again.”
            “You can’t understand,” the princess muttered.  “It’s just not just what he did to me, it’s what’s going to happen to everything.  Dowbreth is in league with the Demon.  He has the Demon’s head.  Oh Gods.  What have I done?”
            She knew she wasn’t making any sense, but her three faerie friends seemed to understand her nonetheless.  Crushing guilt.  Now confusion.  Fear.  And still a lingering desire for a man burning in her womanhood.
            “Can you eat, Lady?” asked Delotti, ever practical.  “You do need sustenance badly,”
            “I’m not hungry,” she whispered.
            Kreel released her, stood back a little from the bed, and regarded her.  “Delotti is right, Tolian,” she said.  “You have to eat.  We’ll do a little something to get your appetite up, okay?”
            Tolian wiped the tears from her eyes with a handkerchief which Capreesh handed her, “I don’t know what.”
            “Leave that to me.”  Kreel turned to one of the attendants who stood in waiting by the door, “Fetch the pipe weed.  The Queen’s best.”
            The girl departed at once.  A few moments later, she returned carrying a tray.  Upon the tray:  an ornate stone pipe, a pouch, and a lit candle.  She handed the tray to Kreel, who sat down on the bed, just next to Tolian, and expertly packed the bowl with the pipeweed from the pouch.
            It was not the first time Tolian had seen pipeweed.  Indeed, she had even partaken of it at the Druid’s Temple of the Stars, Hyge Nuyt.  Under the influence of the druid’s smoke, she had traveled either astrally or in a dream (she wasn’t certain of the difference) to the Queen’s Garden and first met Ymirisiva.
            “Is this anything like the pipeweed the druid’s use?” she asked.
            Kreel smiled.  “It’s similar, but, of course, better.  You know how to smoke then?”
            “Yeah, I did it once before.”
            “Very well, let’s get started.”
            Kreel used the candle to light the bowl, took a big pull of it, and handed it to Tolian.  She took it from the faerie and inhaled the smoke deeply into her lungs, holding it there.  It burned and stung.  With a cough, she released it.
            Immediately a feeling of euphoria stole over her.  Everything seemed outlined in the faerie rainbow spectrum.  She was just enjoying these new sensations when Kreel handed her the pipe once again.  She was beginning to relax, to feel more herself, but at the same time less so.
            When they had finished smoking, Tolian was hungry and laughing at a joke of Kreel’s that wasn’t really even funny (besides which, she instantly forgot what it was).  Soon she was eating breakfast in bed.  She felt insulated from her problems.  She definitely liked the faerie pipeweed.
            She glanced over and saw Kreel looking distant and troubled.
            “What’s wrong?” Tolian asked her.  “Brooding over your sex change?”
            “Always, but that wasn’t it, right then,” she replied.  “If the Demon is truly in Faerie, our world is in serious trouble.  The effects of your presence here in isolation seem to be minimal, well, except for me of course, but the Demon’s evil will quickly spread and corrupt all of Faerie.  With Dowbreth in charge, there is nothing we can do about it.”
            A calm certainty came to Tolian, growing stronger as she spoke.  “I don’t want you three to leave our suite without me.  None of the servants are to leave; send Mesdor and Gredalon for supplies or whatever.  But, Kreel, rest assured, someday, somehow I will free Faerie from the Demon’s evil and slay Dowbreth in the process.”
            And she knew that she spoke the truth.
            “Well, right now,” said Delotti, “you’re going to soak in the tub.  It should help heal your wound, if that’s the right word.  Lots of soaking is what you need.”
            Tolian summoned a tiny smile.  “More food first, please?”

Copyright 2004, 2015 Diana Hignutt

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