RE: Monarch

Chapter 22. Crossroads V

Chapter 22. Crossroads V

I was never great at keeping friends. Real friends, anyway. The reason was illusive and it certainly wasn't for lack of effort. Still, a pattern is a pattern. As the Crown Prince, I represented the future in more ways than one; it made sense that people would flock to me. Acquiring new friends was easy. Keeping them was hard. There was no contesting the fact that people entered and left my life with regular consistency, the only question was the quantity of time.

One specific example comes to mind. Feran of House Morrow. A hundred years ago, House Morrow was known for their fierce spearmen. With superior reach and unrivaled speed, they were the match of any swordsman, and the utter bane of cavalry. In recent years, they shifted away from warfare to scribing.

I met Feran at a royal ball. Both he and I were around thirteen years old and unengagedI did not have a fiance because my mother was opposed to the concept of an arranged marriage. Feran did not have one because, as the third son, his father had not bothered to secure a match. Thus, we huddled in the corner, sieged on all sides by a legion of noble ladies looking to take their proverbial shot. Neither of us were old enough to enjoy that type of attention, so when approached, we would go out, dance for a single song, then return to the corner, hoping if we remained completely motionless and talked in whispers, we would not attract the attention of yet another assailant.

Nothing bonds people together quite like commiseration. Feran and I kept in touch. He was a bit bookish for my taste, I had to nearly drag him to the stables to get him to go riding with me, but eventually, he did. Annette liked him as much as I did and would pester me to bring him to the pavilion, so we could all play Koss. They would talk of books, and I would try my best not to fall asleep.

It became wonderfully rout. Half our time spent doing what I preferred, usually exploring the city or riding, half spent doing what Feran wanted, spending time in his familys library or in the pavilion with Annette.

But eventually, after maybe a year of this, the bounty of time we once had grew sparse. Feran claimed he was expected to take on more of his familys clerical responsibilities. He was still perfectly civil and promised to make time once his schedule cleared.

But of course, that never happened.

At some point, tired of feeling like a child chasing after an errant pet, I decided I would let him come to me.

And he never did.

We still saw each other at various gatherings and events, and he was perfectly mannered, bowed, and always said something to the effect of, "Its been too long, we must get together soon." And then we would return to our separate lives, as if our brief friendship had never existed at all.

It took two or three more painful repetitions of this incident with others for me to recognize it as a pattern.

"Its just a thing that happens to me."

The words became a mantra. So, I stopped trying to make worthwhile friendships. I started spending more of my time with the sycophants and social climbers I so loathed.

Because, at least, if nothing else, they were consistent.

It was with all this in mind that I sat across from Maya. She had the same distance in her eyes that Feran had. Perhaps that sounds a bit silly, a prince, so dutifully concerned with the status of his relationship with an infernal. But it did matter to me, nonetheless. We had relocated to the Dukes aggressively upholstered upstairs sitting room. Large parlor windows let in rays of cool winter light. Mayas leg bumped up and down, the shadow bouncing against the back wall.

I braced myself. "So, what is it?"

"I am ordering my thoughts," Maya said quietly. The words left an uneasy feeling in my gut.

Then, a few moments later, she slid the halved staff across the table to me. Then she took off her amulet. "While I am grateful for everything you have done for me, I think it would be best if we went our separate ways."

I breathed a slow hissing sigh. That tracked. Of course she did.

After all, it was just a thing that happened to me.

"Can I ask why?" I said. My voice was cold.

"There are many reasons." Maya said. She looked away. "But mostly it is an issue of trust."

"Gods." I put a hand to my head, then gestured towards her. "We fought a monster together, Maya. We worked together and we brought Barion down. We saved your kids. We found you a demona good one from what youve said. What exactly do I have to do to get you to trust me?" My voice raised ever so slightly.

Maya put both of her palms flat on the table. The muscles in her forearms strained with each consecutive point. "Setting aside that you have lived comfortably within the walls of an ivory palace while my people have scraped and starved, ignoring the fact that the men we travel with would have likely killed me had you not interfered, and overlooking that you are the son of my sworn enemy" She looked at her hands. Her voice quavered. "Setting all that aside. You have still not been honest with me."

"Gods above, you are completely unreasonable."

"It is not unreasonable, Cairn."

"It feels pretty unreasonable."

"What is unreasonable is being expected to just accept the things you do at face value and ask no questions." Mayas eyes burned. "You knew what Barion was. You knew about the children in the cellar and my relationship with them. You decided, arbitrarily, on your own, that you would escort me, a less-than-human as your people call usback to my home out of the supposed goodness of your heart-"

"I saved you." I cut in venomously, but Maya barreled on.

"So now it was you, and not us." Her eyes narrowed. "Most concerning of all, is that you hold the sacred flamethe lifeblood of my peopleand offer no explanations for it."

"Oh, so thats what it is. You want to know where the damn fire came from?" I said, my tone dangerous.

Maya held her hands wide. "Great. That is a great place to start."

In a past life, you killed my damn sister. You burned her alive Maya. She screamed like an animal as she cooked. I didn't even recognize her voice at the end. Burned me pretty good too because I carried her out to the fountain and tried to put her out. But I don't have to tell you how that worked out, do I? You're a fucking ungrateful hypocrite and you know what? I don't need you. You need me more than I need you, but here you are slapping my damn hand away so get fucking lost. Good luck getting back to the enclave on your own

I clamped my hand over my mouth before the bile running through my mind could form into words. What an asshole I was. I almost said all that. To Maya. After everything she'd done for me. So happy to finally have a target for all my hate and bitterness and vitriol.

But then I saw the way she shook. The way she braced herself. The beginning of tears in her eyes.

I recognized it. Maya knew my pain. She was expecting a betrayal. Had been, perhaps from the moment we first met. And now she was trying to hasten it, to get it over with.

It was just something that happened to her.

Slowly, one breath at a time, I let the venom go. The vengeful, bitter person from my first life had no place in this one.

I sat down and began to tell my story.

Maya didnt respond much during the telling. Her eyes gained this far away quality, and she fell completely silent. It was more of the truth than I would have dared tell anyone, leaving out her role in the sacking of Whitefall and the violence of our initial encounter. I told her that an infernal had murdered my sister to explain my exposure to the demon-flame, but I did not say who it was.

Little by little, I felt the pain in my heart begin to lift. Even then, I think, it had weighed on me heavily, this terrifying secret, knowing it was unlikely anyone would believe me. I told her about Sera, Annette, and Lillian. I told her of the many times Barion killed me, culminating with the reason I feared her demon so. Wet streaks trailed down my face, my vision hot and shimmering. The tears continued to fall, spattering on the table in an arrhythmic patter. Still, her face didnt change, maintaining the same stoic stillness. I told her of the ravenous darkness in my mind after the demon consumed me, and how she had saved me from it.

A single tear rolled down her cheek.

"And so, thats pretty much the long and short of it. I understand if you dont believe me. Its a lot. But believe this." I took her hand. "Ill do whatever I can to restore your people, both now and when the crown passes to me once more. I swear it to the Elder Gods, Maya. All I want is peace."

Maya considered my words for what felt like an eternity. Then the glaze in her eyes finally faded and she exhaled. The breath sounded strange, like a cold wind torn from her lungs.

"I" She looked at me, looked at my reddened eyes. She spoke, voice full of sympathy, "Nilend, why is it so hard to tell me?"

I wiped my eyes with my sleeve. "What do you mean? Of course it was hard."

"Wait" Maya reached up and touched her own face, gingerly, "Whats wrong with me." Then she turned to me. "I feel like Im forgetting something important."

Black tendrils of fear clawed up from the ether of my subconscious and squeezed. I put my forehead in my hands and forced myself to breathe.

" Whats the last thing you remember, Maya?"

"What do you-"

"Please Maya, please just tell me the last thing you remember."

"You sat down. And it looked like you were finally about to tell me the truth. Then you struggled and I asked why it was so hard."

Suffer. As I have suffered.

"I didnt speak?"

"Not until just now. Cairn, what is happening-"

Youre alone, little prince. So very, very alone.

I stood suddenly. The chair toppled. My heart pounded in my throat.

"I need to go."

As I ran, a memory swirled up unbidden.

Sera was in the castle training yard with sword-master Pitt. She was wearing banded leather armor and breathing hard, intermittently drinking from a water skin. I pulled myself up on the bench beside her. She studied me, annoyed, then ruffled my hair.

"Whatcha doin out here, Cairn?" She asked. The end of the question pitched downwards instead of up.

"Looking for you," I answered, happy she addressed me at all. I placed my small wooden sword across my lap.

"Go play with Annette."

"Annettes a baby." I scowled.

"Youre a baby."

"Am not."

Sera let out a long-suffering sigh and stood, stretching her arms above her head and clasping her hands together.

"Ready to get back to it?" Pitt asked, placing his flask aside.

"Wait!" I stood, panicked.

I held my wooden sword up, pointed at Seras chest. "I challenge thee!" Sera blinked, then laughed, long and hard. I crossed my arms.

"I mean it!" I insisted.

"Its not time to play, Cairn," Sera said. But it never was with her. I couldnt remember the last time. But maybe Sera just got tired of baby games like tag. Sera liked to fight. If I showed her I could fight, maybe things would change.

"Not playing," I lied, "I want to learn."

Sera blew a long blonde strand of hair out of her face in irritation. "Schedule some time with Master Pit or some other Master and learn, then."

I looked up at her. It didnt make any sense. Did I do something to make Sera dislike me? Did I say something that hurt her feelings?

"Alright, fine. Stop looking at me like that." Sera crouched down in front of me and poked my forehead. "Lets play seek-and-find."

"Really?!"

"Yes. Find a hiding place. Pitt and I will have one more bout. By the time its over, you better have found a good one."

"Alright!" My chest was tight with excitement. I turned to run, then looked back, suspicious. Sera always found a way to cheat. "You cant lose in like five seconds and come get me. It has to be a good bout."

"Fine, fine, you caught me." Sera waved a hand dismissively. "Better hurry, though."

It took five minutes to find the spot. One of my mothers maids was on duty, so I slipped into her quarters. At the foot of the bed was a small chest. It was a snug fit, but I pulled my knees tight to my chest and managed to close it flush. Sure, it was uncomfortable, and after a few minutes my legs grew sore and my side cramped, but it was worth it. This was the perfect spot.

No one could ever possibly find me here.

And as it turned out, no one did.

Cephur was in mid-sentence with a street vendor, holding some sort of fried fish in his hands when I approached. The panic must have shown on my face because Cephur trailed off and immediately looked behind me, searching for the source of my disquiet. His hand went to his sword warily.

"Is everything alright, your grace?

The words came out in a panicked stream. "This is my second life. I died on the night of my coronation and came back, ten years earlier. This year. Ive died so many timesthat doesnt matter. The woman who killed me back then is still hunting me. Hunting us. And when I told Maya this it just slipped from her mind, like" Cephurs face was strangely distant, like he was recalling some faded memory. "like now." I whispered.

"What does that mean?" Cephur asked blankly. "Whats it like now?"

"Never mind." I took a few steps backwards, my chest aching, then turned and ran through the streets of Kholis, looking for another familiar face. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I could hear laughter.

Chef Emi left an unsigned note in my room, summoning me to the kitchen. She wasnt there, of course, my father had a strict no-tolerance stance on the celebration of birthdayshe called them institutionalized coddlingand had fired servants in the past for even making note of it. Still, if she happened to leave a piece of my favorite cake in a covered pan and I happened to find it on a day that happened to be my birthday, there was no harm in that.

This had been our silent tradition for as long as I could remember.

I left the lamp unlit and ate my cake, savoring the zest of the lemon and the coolness of the whipped cream. She really was the best.

The door creaked open and I froze. A small form entered the room holding a candelabra. I watched in amusement as Annette snuck over to the pantry where Emi stored hard candies and malted confections.

"Bit late for sweets, isnt it?" I asked.

Annette swore and jumped a solid foot in the air; one of the candles from the candelabra went flying in an arc of flickering light, extinguishing as it hit the floor.

"Elphions sake, Cairn." Annette held a hand to her chest.

"Just an observation. No need to get upset." I shoved another forkful in my mouth to cover a snicker. Annette grumbled indecipherably and relit her fallen candle.

"Is this some bizarre act of rebellion then?" She asked, looking at the contents of my plate. "Eating cake in the dark?"

"Specifically lemon cake," I said, "Acidity is at the heart of every insurrection."

"So dumb." Annette rolled her eyes. I couldnt be sure from the dimness, but it looked like she was flushing red, embarrassed at being caught in the act.

"Get your candy. Not judging. I mean, look at me." I held both arms out to both sides. She looked hesitant, so I pushed a bit more. "Come on, come sit with me."

Annette shook her head. "My appetite is ruined." She turned to leave.

"Hey, Annette?"

"Yes?"

I flattened a small section of crumbs on my plate with my fork. "I dont really care or anything, but Im a little curious. Why did you stop coming to my room to read?"

"I was being a pest. Why does it matter?"

"I dunno. I guess it really doesnt. It was just weird, is all. You came every day. For like a month. And then you just stopped. Guess I was wondering if there was a reason."

Annette slowly shook her head. "No. Not really."

"Oh. Okay then."

Having apparently reconsidered, Annette returned to the pantry and retrieved a handful of malted chocolates, rolling them up into a handkerchief and placing them into her clutch.

"Dont forget about them," I said cheerfully, "If they melt it's gonna get everywhere."

"I wont. Im not a kid."

"Says the kid sneaking candy out of the kitchen."

"Shut up," Annette grumbled, and pulled the door open to leave.

"Hey, Annette?" I said.

"What?"

"You were never a pest. And youre always welcome to come back." I said.

"Okay." Annette said, after a long moment. And then she was gone.

I shoveled the final bite of the cake into my mouth.

It tasted like ash.

Tamara was idling outside the fletchers, testing a new gut-string for her bow. She had nearly tied it off; the pink tip of her tongue sticking out of her mouth when I arrived. The string came undone at my sudden appearance, snapping and leaving a thin red line across the palm of her hand. I doubled over and put my hands on my knees, panting, a stitch in my side.

"Ow! Elphion that hurts." Tamara put her wounded hand to her mouth, glowering at me. "Is there a reason youre running around like a headless seahawk, your majesty?"

"Yeah just hold on a second."

"Where did you even come from?" Tamara asked, looking around for a disturbance.

"The Dukes"

"Not really that far." Tamara raised a judgmental eyebrow. "We need to get Cephur to work on your endurance."

I pulled myself upright painfully, stitch in my side still festering. It was harder to say the words this time, but the oozing fear pushed me onwards. There had to be a limit, right? All magic had limitations, that was one of the first things you learned about it. And Barion had said magic to this scale should be all but impossible.

"Ive lived this life before. Everyone keeps forgetting what Im saying. If I die, I dont stay dead, I get pulled backwards to some point in the past" I trailed off as Tamaras expression mirrored the same lost, glossy expression, "Gods"

"You know, I was thinking we might teach you the bow. It gets stressful being the only archer of the group." Tamara flashed me a savage grin. But I was already running, stitch in my side forgotten, the sense of doom only growing with each footfall.

My path took me in something of a loop, I found Orben in the Dukes stables, combing his horse.

"Ello your-"

"Im a time traveler," I started speaking before I even came to a full stop. "Like Percival and the Chrono-Sphere. In fact, I have a Chrono-Sphere. So, I know whats coming in the future. Only, not the immediate future because I haventwell, its complicated." My attempt to vary my story was getting extreme. There had to be a limit. There had to be.

Orbens eyes didnt glaze over, only because that was how he always looked. He spoke after a few seconds. "Yeh. Most things are complicated for me, your majesty."

"Thats what I thought-" I stopped mid-statement, realizing what he said. "Wait, Orben, you heard that?" Some small part of me dared to hope.

Orben nodded. I couldnt believe it.

"What did I say just now? Just tell me what happened."

"When?" Orben asked. He was thinking so hard I could see it.

"When I ran up to you. Just now, just tell me everything."

Orbens eyes widened in understanding. "Ah. Alright then. So I came out here to comb out Merryweathers mane. Shes a prissy lass, and if I dont do it every day she wont go faster than a trot when I need it most. So, Im combing out her mane, just like always, and then she turned her head and nickered like she always does when she wants me to do the thing. And I tell her, say Merryweather, I dont wants to do the thing here. That stable-boy will see me and peoples will talk. But shes insisting, you know."

By some miracle, I forgot my own troubles for just a moment. "Sorry, Orben, whats the thing, exactly?"

His cheeks tinged pink. "Its head pats and ear scritches, my lord." The palomino mare whinnied in approval. "See? Wants them nonstop. Shes insatiable."

"Get to the part where I come in," I said.

"Right. Well, you ran up, all upset like, and said, Its complicated."

I put a hand to my head. Of course. What a fool I was to even hope. "Never mind. Just. Never mind." I walked from the stables in a daze as Orben patted his horse. The viselike grip of isolation returned, growing tighter with the rhythmic pounding in my skull.

The physicians mouth was moving, but for the life of me I could not hear him. He shook his head, face mournful and oh-so-understanding. With a wet rag, he wiped traces of red from his hands. An endless procession of handmaids streamed in and out of the conjoining room. A pair of them whispered quietly in the corner, glancing repeatedly in our direction. The physician finished speaking and looked at us with insufferably practiced sympathy, waiting for a response.

"I wont do it, gods dammit. Elphion take you and your family." Seras face was a mask of rage. She stormed away, door slamming behind her.

Annettes hand was clenched on mine, her small fingers white, her face devoid of the slightest emotion, completely impassive. Her nails dug deep. A tiny red drop welled up from where her third fingernail had pierced the skin.

"Annette," I said.

She released my hand suddenly. "Sorry."

My legs ached as I stood, having fallen numb for what felt like hours, my back and neck sore from staying in one place for too long. I couldnt remember the last time I slept.

"Ill do it," I said to the physician. My mouth felt strange as I spoke, as if Id forgotten how. He nodded and took his leave. I looked at Annette. "Do you want to come?"

She shook her head, a motion so small it was nearly imperceptible.

"Are you sure?" I asked. The last thing I wanted to do at that moment was badger her, but it was necessary. "There may not be another chance."

Another small shake.

"Alright. If thats what you want."

I walked down the hall, my very perception of it seeming to stretch and warp. The end grew further and further away. There was movement out in the courtyard and I paused to look.

My father was out there, fighting the guards. This sort of sparring would have been nothing out of the ordinary, but today, he was unarmed and unarmored, while they used training jerkins and live steel. There were twelve of them. His muscled form strained as he pushed himself to the very limit, spinning, lashing out, spinning again. It was too many opponents for anyone to manage. A man rushed at his back, landing a shallow slash across his shoulder blades. Father spun, his face a mask of anguish and fury and charged full tilt at the man, grabbing him from beneath his legs and slamming him to the ground. Now atop him, my fathers fist pulled back and cracked forward, slamming into the mans face. The impacts were audible, even from a distance. Once. Twice. Three times. Four times. Five.

It took all of them to pull him off their fellow, pinning him to the ground until the rage faded. Father sat there, panting like a wounded animal. The man on the ground did not get up. My father laid back in the dirt, staring aimlessly up into the sky.

Coward.

With a deep breath, I stepped into the treatment room.

Maybe it was a trick of the mind, but for a moment I saw her as she once was. Queen Elaria: hair blonde and lustrous, her face full and beautiful. But as I approached the bed, the illusion faded. Her shining blonde hair faded to a sickly white. Her face thinned, gaunt and bony, wrinkled skin drawn tight. I pulled up a chair, taking the cup at her bedside and using the small sponge to wet her cracked lips. She didnt move, her sunken eyes shut.

"Hello Mother," I whispered, then cleared my throat, banishing the weakness in my voice. "The physician seems to think things are pretty bad. He said" I cleared my throat again. "He said your body is shutting down, but for some reason youre still hanging in there. And he wanted me to tell you something, but I dont think Im strong enough." I stood and paced the room, looking out the window again. Father had disappeared. Why wasnt he here for this? I paced back and forth.

"Arent you supposed to wake up? Isnt that how it always goes in the stories? The parent regains consciousness, just before the end, and bequeathes some piece of wisdom to the child. Anything. Even just a word. Something for me-" I cut myself off. "Something for them to carry forward."

I sat beside her again and took her hand. It felt so frail.

"Can you squeeze my hand, so I know you can hear me? Or move a finger?"

Nothing.

"That thats okay." I leaned back in my chair, spent and exhausted. The words came slowly, agonizingly. "Youre my touchstone, mom. You always were. You taught me how to think for myself, how to look at the world. I know I promised I would be a good king. A kinder king. That I would rule with compassion and thoughtfulness. That I would be a better man than father. But I dont know if I can... because" The last sentence caught in my chest.

Im so alone.

Somewhere in the castle, there was the sound of laughter. It was a light-hearted and carefree sound. As if the world itself wasnt ending. I swallowed a sudden, irrational anger at the interruption.

I chuckled, low in my throat. "But this isnt about me, is it?" I patted her hand. "What an asshole, right? Its the end times and Im still sitting here talking about myself." I squinted my eyes shut, trying to recall everything I wanted to say.

"I was talking to a priest about the Elysian Halls. He said he said its beautiful there. Peaceful. Golden fields of wheat extend as far as the eye can see, broken up by crystal towers that throw prisms across the sky. Theres no night, no darkness. Your sisters will be there: Salwen and Kaari for sure so you wont be alone. Therell be music and dancing. I can almost see it."

I choked, fighting to get through it.

"Theyll theyll give you a harp, mom. Youll play like you always did, and blow them away. The worthy will gather from all over the astral plane just to hear it. And youll be strong. Just like you used to be." I placed my forehead on her knuckles.

"The physician told me that sometimes, when a person is very sick, they hold on for the sake of those around them. That they feel guilty leaving. He said that sometimes, giving permission helps. Saying goodbye."

I took a deep, shuddering breath.

"If youre ready, its okay for you to go now."

Please don't go.

"Sera, Annette, and I, we all love you. Were gonna miss you, but well be okay."

It will never be okay.

I waited so intently for the slightest movement, a shifting of her head, a squeezing of her hand. More than anything, I wished her eyes would open once more, even just for a second. I begged the gods for mercy, every single one of them.

My shoulders weighed down on me as I stood. I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and leaned down to kiss her forehead.

"Goodbye, mother. May the frost always wane at your waking."

"And thats the whole story. Ive gotta bring the whole continent together under one banner somehow, and you and I are the only ones who know the truth," I said aimlessly.

The shadow panther stared at me, intelligent eyes clouded. I had wandered out of town in a daze, directionless, my feet taking me towards a nearby patch of trees. The great cat had been napping in the sun, intent on following me for whatever reason but smart enough not to brave civilization to do so. I stroked its silken fur, letting my fingers run through it mindlessly. It licked my face. I poured some wine from a purloined wineskin into my palm and held it out. The panther lapped it up, then gave me a look that seemed to say: Really, you drink this?

"I do indeed. Why was I so scared of you, anyway? Youre a big softie."

It looked vaguely offended.

A twig snapped. The panthers ears perked up. Another twig. And another. There was only one person I knew who was this bad at woodcraft. Maya appeared from behind a tree.

"I would think by now you would have tired of trees." Maya scowled at the surrounding woods.

"Thats true," the words slurred together, "But I had to confer with a colleague in their place of business." I held the wineskin up at her. "Want some?"

"No."

"Ok."

It occurred to me that, in my panic, I had rushed off without giving Maya her cut. That was likely why she was here. I pulled out my purse and began to count, then gave up and tossed the whole thing over to her.

"For your troubles. Should be more than enough to charter an escort to the magus enclave."

Her lips thinned. "See? Thats part of the problem. Its too much. If this is going to work, you cannot keep trying to buy me, Cairn."

"Im not," I said. Then I thought about it. The staff. To a lesser extent, the amulet. That had been exactly what I was trying to do. What I always did with my sycophantic friendssplash some gold around, and theyd follow me for days. But then the rest of what she said sunk in. "What do you mean, if this is going to work?"

Maya crouched down in front of me. Her face was thoughtful. "How did you put it? Ah, yes. I am going to talk now. Just lay some things out. Let me know if I get anything wrong."

I blinked, reminded of that night on Barions roof, surprised to hear my words repeated back so accurately. "Go ahead."

"You know things. That much is obvious. Things you should not know. Things no one could know, yet you know them all the same." Her words were as sobering as a slap to the face. I sat up, mouth opening silently Maya continued, "But it does not come freely, your knowledge. It weighs heavy on you. In fact, I would bet all the treasures in my familys vault that you are somehow cursed."

My chest tightened. She saw me. "But, how?"

"After you ran out of the Dukes manor, I felt strange. There was this compulsion to ignore it. Were it not for the grandfather clock near the doorway, I may have disregarded the feeling entirely. But the clock had moved forward ten minutes."

"You were missing time."

"Yes. At first, I thought it was you. That you had cast some strange, unknown magic on me. Ridiculous, but you have done more ridiculous things." Maya smoothed her dress beneath her and sat down on the grass, reaching for the shadow panther. It growled, and she pulled her hand back, thinking better of it. "Then I followed you from a distance. I watched as you ran to our companions. I talked to each of them. None could remember the exchange. Then I watched as you spoke to the town-folk, each of them giving you the same empty stare.

"It reminded me of a legend my father once told me. An infernal politician summoned a powerful arch-fiend for the purposes of making a wish. He wished to be the most charismatic man in the world. But there is a reason why arch-fiends are better left alone. The arch-fiend granted the mans wish, and took his voice as payment. The man learned to speak with his hands, but somehow his translators all interpreted his passionate words and inspiring statements in a flat tone, unable to express the music that made the mans words come alive." She stopped, her face wilting. "You tried to tell me, at the Dukes manor. You did tell me. But I cannot remember."

"Yes." I whispered, scared if I said anything more, Mayas eyes would suddenly glaze over, and she would forget this conversation ever happened.

"You are not alone, Nilend." Maya knelt in front of me and touched my face. A knife long-buried untwisted in my gut, finally coming free.

Her face grew determined. "Tell me again."

"But you wont remember," I said, terrified at the thought. Somehow, someone knowing that they didnt know was less awful than that person being completely ignorant.

"Magic. Has. Limits." Maya emphasized each word. "Change your story a little each time. Lie if you have to, but keep your words as close to the truth as you can make them. We will do this as many times as it takes."

As many times as it takes. I smiled. That was poetic, in a way.

I wasnt alone anymore.

So, once again, I told her my story.