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Saturday, April 11, 2015

Empress of Clouds - Chapter 38



                                                                     Chapter 38
           
           
           
           
            Tolian was ready.  For six days, she had prepared and planned.  At first, she had no idea what to expect.  She had experimented, slipping out furtively for a few moments here and there when neither Mesdor nor Gredalon were about.  For those few moments, she felt powerful.  Not physically strong, but inwardly powerful and capable of amazing things.  She could not lift the table on the balcony, but she could make it levitate with her mind.  Only a few feet, but that was only the second time she went out into the moonlight.  Now, she could do much more than that.  Unfortunately, the power did not last long once she went back inside.  She had only a few moments to show Kreel the smallest demonstrations of her powers, before they left her.         She had managed to break herself of the habit of smoking the faerie pipeweed, though it had not been easy.  She wasn’t hiding from her feelings anymore.  The pain from her wound was much more noticeable, of course, especially when she stood for more than a few minutes.  It wasn’t unbearable; she was capable of enduring it.  She also watched the tapestries again, both to face her guilt head on and to prepare herself for what she would find once she had escaped the tower.  It was hard to watch the scenes of twisted horror that the tapestries revealed.  Faerie had been reformed in the chaotic and nightmarish image of the Demon’s horrific imagination.  Lush forest had become places of gray and gnarled vegetation filled with hideous monsters, creatures of unspeakable horror.  Buildings even, took on more forbidding appearances.  One castle, which had previously appeared a bustling, inviting household, was now a lonely place of malefic aspect.  Drabness had infiltrated every stone and the once welcoming gateway now resembled a gaping, fanged mouth.  Everything in Faerie had changed to some degree.  The people had undergone the most drastic transformation.  Most of the once proud faeries were now snarling, shuffling things, bent and corrupted.  She cried as she watched, for she knew all of it was her fault.  She should have tried to escape sooner; she should have risked sacrificing Brythia and herself.  As hard as she was on herself, she knew that the love magick that bound them would have prevented her from doing anything that could result in Brythia’s death.  What she saw in the tapestries made her entertain thoughts of remaining safe in the tower.  She quickly shrugged off such thoughts.  That was fear talking.  It was apparent that the Demon would soon no longer require her presence to hold full sway over Faerie.  It was nearly all his already.  No doubt he would have her killed, probably Dowbreth, too, for what use were they, once the Kingdom of the Fay was the Demon’s own country?  Every day she felt with greater certainty that that day was quickly approaching.


           
            Now was the time.  She sneaked out to the balcony for what she knew would be the last time.  The Full Moon was already in the sky.  She felt its energy pouring into her.  She opened herself to its silver rays, visualizing herself absorbing all the lunar power she could.  She made certain to hold on to as much as possible.  She did nothing that would cause her to discharge the energy.  She could not test the power for she needed every ounce of it for her plan.
            She breathed in deeply.  The cool air was invigorating.  She had considered trying to fly down from there.  Several things dissuaded her from this plan.  She would be unable to take Kreel, and there was no way she was going to leave her best friend at the mercy of Dowbreth.  Never.  In addition, such a dramatic escape would attract much more attention than she would like.  On top of that, she had no way to know for sure she could, in fact, manage the vast distance safely.  No, her plan was the best way, and she was ready.  Now to put it to the test.

            She went back inside and secured the door and curtains behind her.  Kreel, dressed in a pink nightgown, was pacing nervously across the bedroom, holding her sword.  It was clear that she was afraid.  Tolian couldn’t blame her.  There was every chance that her plan would not work, that they would be caught and killed or, more likely, worse.  She was frightened too, but for the first time since she found herself simply a woman without supernatural powers, she did not let her fear control her.  She had found a place beyond fear.  So what if she was essentially a mortal woman, not a powerful male warrior, or a goddess?  Many women overcame nearly impossible obstacles.  How else could they live their lives with the physical weaknesses of their gender, save by another strength, the strength of character?  True strength in the face of real fear, pervasive fear men could not even imagine.  That was the power of woman.  It was extraordinary.  To try anyway, in spite of everything.
            “You look so frightened,” she said to her faerie friend.  “Repeat this quietly in your mind, it helps:  I will hold no fear.  Fear is defeat and the forerunner of defeat.  Fear is for my enemy.”
            “I’ll try that,” Kreel said with an anxious chuckle.
            “Good, let’s get going.  Mesdor will be back from the bathroom any minute,” Tolian said.  She smiled encouragingly.
            Kreel smiled darkly.
            “You’re certain this will work?” the faerie asked.
            “Oh no, I’m not guaranteeing anything,” Tolian said, leading her to the door.
            They had about two more minutes before Delotti returned with their mulled wine and Mesdor trotted back in about a minute after that.  Their ritual had not changed in more than a month.  The obligatory warm wine to send her off to a dreamless slumber and Mesdor’s eleven o’clock urination.  Small occurrences, seemingly of no consequence, but they were chinks in Dowbreth’s armor.  For only for those few moments, when everyone thought that Tolian was finishing off her evening with some diversion with Kreel and preparing for bed, they were alone.  Those were the only times, for Mesdor and Gredalon trusted Kreel less and less it seemed as they looked on her with resentment, no doubt for her beauty and her friendship with Tolian.  This was the time.  Gredalon was asleep, having spent most of the day keeping an eye on her, covering her with suspicious looks from her ruined visage.  Now.
            Tolian opened the door and walked as nonchalantly as she could down the corridor.  Kreel followed, appearing far too agitated.  No one would think twice to see them.  They were doing nothing wrong.  Uiyrlpi, one of the kitchen staff entered the hallway from the parlor.  She curtsied and Tolian smiled and wished her a good night.
            It took only a few moments to walk the distance from her room to the door to the garden.  The closer they got to the door, the more nervous she became.  Not panicked.  No, she would not allow herself to get overwrought.  She had resolve if not courage, and that would have to do.  She took Kreel’s hand in hers to lend her strength.  She could hear the faerie whispering under her breath, “Fear is defeat and the forerunner of defeat.  I will hold no fear.”
            Tolian did not need the mantra, for she had become it.  Kreel squeezed her head.
            “This is the best way, right?” the faerie asked.
            “Yes, no one will be out there at this time of night; it’s the perfect place to sneak out,” Tolian responded.
            “Tolian, you’ve seen it.  Faerie has gone mad.  It’s a nightmare out there,” Kreel fretted.  “I doubt the garden’s going to be any better.”
            “Yeah, give me your sword.”  She took the faerie blade.  She closed her fingers around the hilt.  It felt good to grip a sword again.  She had not touched a weapon in over two years.  She looked down at her wrist and the black bracelet that adorned it.  Kreel must have caught her look.
            “Now, remember, you promised that you would only do that in case of extreme emergency.  You promised,” the faerie reminded her.
            “I know,” mumbled Tolian.  She regarded the door for a moment.  As she did so, something amusing flashed across her mind.  She looked down at herself, her own white silky nightie shimmering in the lamplight of the hallway, Kreel looking positively cute in her own feminine sleepwear.
            “What do you think,” asked Tolian, “our old selves would think if they could see us now?”
            “Hmmm,” pondered the Elven maiden, “I don’t think they would believe it was us.”
            “Probably not,” Tolian agreed.
            The door.  A magick door.  Of course, it didn’t look like a magick door; it looked like a regular door.  Heavy wood, strong iron hinges.  She put her hand up to it.  She let the power come out of her.  She imagined herself (and Kreel) walking right through the door.  The door wasn’t real.  It was all constructed of the astral.  The astral was under her sway.  It was subject to her whim.  She pushed her hand tentatively and gently through the door.  Her hand seemed to end right at the wrist.  She pulled her hand back out and looked at it.  It was perfectly fine.
            “Okay,” she said with determination.  “Let’s go.”
She walked through the door, pulling Kreel behind her.

Copyright 2004, 2015 Diana Hignutt

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