Chapter 44

 

This chapter has been copied from the original and may contain typos and grammatical errors.

~*~

Seneca stared at the listless figure laying in the bed. If he blinked, as solid as she had been for the past few hours, he felt that she would disappear. He had never been able to see her this way, so still, unmoving, unoccupied. She had the same markings on her hands and arms that she had three years ago, but her face was a bit less vibrant. He knew that she had nearly drowned, but he remembered her with redder lips, more color in her cheeks. Definitely more sparkles on her clothes, as if she were an angel the Church kept talking about.

The smoke from the fire made him blink, and she was still there. Her shoulder moved, and she rolled over, facing him. He looked at her face, a slightly pointed nose a bit too prominent to be feminine, sculpted eyebrows, long lashed eyes. How old was she? Where did she come from? If she had been in this province he would have met her or seen someone in her family that looked like her, but there was no one. It was as if she not only dropped into the water but out of the sky.

Gloria opened her eyes to a dark room, lit by a crackling fire. Her head ached like an anvil was weighing on it, and her arms and legs felt like she hadn’t moved them in days. She slowly flexed her fingers, gathering dexterity in them as she repeated the motions.

She closed her eyes against the light, and considered what she knew. She was in a bed, not laying on the cold, hard ground. There was a fire but it was in a fireplace, not a campfire. There were dry blankets on her, not her damp from dew skirt she used as a cover the past few nights. Wherever she was, it wasn’t half bad. At least, that’s what she hoped.

She opened her eyes, and looked around the small portion of the room she could see. It was sparsely furnished; there were a few paintings on the walls, and a dresser with a pile of folded fabric on it. Was it blankets? Clothes? It was too hard to tell in the minimal light.

Head still pounding, she heard bustling beneath her. Based on the din of laughing voices and clinking ceramics, she guessed that she was in an inn. How did she get here? Was this the ever-after? She was supposed to be dead, drowned by that man who smelled like rust and old sweat. She decided she didn’t feel dead.

With teeth bared, she pushed herself up and swung her legs out of the bed. Her head screamed and her vision went dark for a moment as her body acclimated to being upright. There was something on her hand, what was it? It glittered and seemed to be made of rings and a bracelet. She was wearing a snug necklace as well, and a different shift? She was starting to heavily consider she may be dead after all.

(Her fingers are going through her skirt, they aren't short.)

In the deep corner of the room, where he may have been able to hide if the fire wasn’t as high as it was, sat a man. Gloria mentally went to reach for her fire abilities, but found she couldn’t find them. She couldn’t find anything. She couldn’t sense anything either, not the thoughts of the figure in the room, or how many people were below her, or even the coming weather patterns. What was wrong with her?

“Good-” the figure rubbed his face roughly, “-actually I’m not sure what time it is. It’s night of some sort. Nearly dawn.”

“You - I know you. I swear I know you. Where do I know you from?” Gloria wasn’t afraid of the strange man, and she was having a hard time figuring out why. She had been apprehensive of Rufus, Marco, and Angus and she had been able to sense them, and yet with this man she felt no fear. He was familiar....

“You know, to no one but you am I forgettable.” He stood up and moved the light chair closer to her, and further into the light, and Gloria remembered clearly where she had seen him. She had spent a bit more than three years trying to forget him, trying to avoid the dreams that Midshore had insisted were important.

She stared at his amber eyes. “I’m dead. I must be dead.” she murmured.

“You’re very much alive, thanks to me.” he claimed as he settled into his chair. “Imagine my disbelief when I see the girl from the swirling sky being thrown into a river, assumably accused of being a witch. That was tough to come to terms with quickly. So I have one question- no, actually, I have several, but the first one is why the heck are you real?” He wasn’t sure if he was feeling curious or hostile. He couldn’t separate the two; it was as if they were writhing in a massive ball in his chest. On one hand, he couldn’t believe that the answers he had always wanted were so close to being had, but also that she hadn’t arrived sooner to tell everyone that his dreams once a month weren’t his imagination. Where the heck had she been his whole life, now that he knew she was real?

“I was born, just like everyone else, so I’m not sure I understand your meaning.” Born like everyone else who is resurrected before they breathe, has a prophecy told the moment they’re born, and can use magic.

“I haven’t seen you in my dreams in years! Where have you been? Where did you come from? What are you doing here?” Seneca raised his voice as he spoke. His questions only lead to more questions, and he craved every answer.

“Seneca. Your name is Seneca.” she said simply with a smile on her face, as if remembering puppy fondly.

He slumped back in his chair. “You have no idea how insulting it is to have your name forgotten when I’ve literally had you in my dreams. Oh, and what the heck is your name?!” he had renewed vigor as he leaned in again.

“It’s a bit odd to ask someone their life story so bluntly. My name is Gloria Reed, I’m from the Western Islands, and I’m here with my beloved, Aubade. Or maybe he wants to go by Blake while he’s here. We hadn’t agreed, but he seemed pretty set on being called Blake…” She started to get side tracked. “We’re here to see his father who lives in the capitol before he dies. We met up with two other men who were there to accompany us to the capitol, and while we were camping for the night we were set upon by people in white armor. They captured the other people we were with, and one of the people in armor was a man with a horribly hooked nose. He was the one who threw me over the cliff because he thought I was a witch. He also said he knew my parents, which is hard to believe. I don’t know what to believe anymore…. Oh, Blake…” with the memory of what happened, she put her head in her hands.

“Blake? As in, the Blakes? The family of the Duchess of Malice? The main supporters of the king?” he pressed.

“I don’t know. I don’t know anything. I’m from the Islands, we don’t bother with the politics of the Mainland.”

“No, over in your blessed utopia with democracy and equality, I wouldn’t think you would,” he mocked the stressed syllables.

“What’s your problem? I don’t even know who you are. I never thought you’d be real. You were just the slightly aggressive boy from my dreams that I avoided for the last three years, and you seem to be even more aggressive in person. Now, if you would help me get back to my company, I need to be on my way and I need to help Bla-Aubade before he’s hurt.”

“Gloria, you’ve slept a night, a day, and another night. Whatever trail he may have left on the other side of the river is long cold, and we don’t want to interrupt the Templar anyhow. He deserves whatever is coming to him, believe me.” Seneca informed.

“What are you talking about? Aubade is a good man, he’s innocent of any crime they convict him of.” Gloria urged.

“Well, I highly doubt he’ll get a fair trial.” Seneca said casually. “Such a strong supporter of the king wouldn’t be allowed to live.”

“I need to save him!” Gloria stood on wobbly legs to move towards the door, but she saw again that she was wearing a new shift. “What am I wearing?” she exclaimed, frustrated with how little Seneca was helping her.

“Your clothes were ruined and you were in nothing but your shift when I dragged you out of the water. I bought some new clothes for you from the market and had the barmaid dress you.” Seneca explained. Gloria reached for her collar. “Oh, that. Witches aren’t normally killed outright, and we need a way to make sure they don’t escape. I was able to acquire the necessary trinkets to prevent you from doing whatever you-” he wiggled his hands and looked her over, “-do.”

Gloria looked at him and seethed. “You know, not to be rude, but is there anyone else that could look after me? I’m not enjoying your company as much as I thought I would.” she gave a fake smile.

Seneca leaned back in his chair. “Sorry, last I saw of Henry, his dinner was making a reappearance via his mouth. He’s been pale for a week, and I don’t want my prized prisoner catching whatever could do that to Perfect Henry. You’re stuck with me.” he tilted his head back and looked like he was going to take a nap.

“Prisoner?” Gloria squinted her eyes at Seneca. “Prisoner?” she went to try and take the rings off, but they wouldn’t extend long enough due to being connected to her bracelet. So she tried to take off the bracelet. “If I had my abilities, you’d see who was the prisoner!”

“You need two hands to get that bracelet off, don’t even try it.” he remarked. “We leave at dawn, I recommend you get some sleep. If we make good time, we’ll probably make it back home by evening.”

Gloria sneered at him, then plopped back down on the bed, angry.

~*~

Gloria looked at their traveling companion. He did look rather pale, and Gloria thought that he should be laying down, not trying to put one foot in front of the other. He had bags under his eyes, and he half-stumbled for much of the journey.

Gloria herself wasn’t in the best shape. Her legs still felt a bit limp as she wasn’t used to walking for days without a proper bed and meal, and based on how hungry she was that morning she doubted that Seneca had bothered to feed her.

She felt deaf to the world without being able to sense her surroundings. The path ahead was all she could see, she couldn’t try and feel the flora and fauna around her.

She got to thinking, why hadn’t she felt the templars approaching? If she remembered the conversation correctly, she was pretty occupied and unfocused, and it was always harder to sense things when her energy was pent up.

They had walked for a while, and apparently the silence was too much for Seneca. “Is there anyone who will come looking for you?” he asked.

“Besides Aubade, I doubt it. I told my parents on the Islands that I would be home in a year, though I’m not sure that’ll be true. I really hoped it would be.”

“So you have a family? Parents?” he asked.

“I do. I have a mother and father, and a Godfather. I have a little brother, twin little sisters, two aunts, three uncles, two grandparents, and a slew of cousins I can hardly keep track of.” she remarked. “What about you?”

Seneca exhaled as if he were too important to say, but he complied with her question. “I have no siblings, but I have a strong heritage.”

“You can tell her, you know. No use keeping it a secret, she’s going to find out soon anyway.” Henry added.

“But if she’s allied with their side, she shouldn’t know. I’m only a rumor. If she tells them I’m real then they’ll spring on us before we’re ready.” Seneca said cryptically.

“She’s not going to get away.” Henry assured.

“Fine.” Seneca rolled his eyes. “Gloria Reed, you have the privilege of talking to the future king of the Mainland, son of the only legitimate queen.” he said hautly.

Gloria’s eyebrows knit together. “I have no idea what any of that means.”

Seneca rolled his eyes again at Henry.

“Nice delivery.” Henry complimented.

They turned inland towards the treeline. “How can you ‘Have no idea what any of that means’? Were you born yesterday?” Seneca asked.

“How many times do I have to tell you, I’m from the Islands!” Gloria exclaimed.

“Forgive me, but no one ever returns from the Islands. They’re a myth, meant to give people hope for something that doesn’t exist.”

They arrived in a clearing with a cobbled together house. Seneca froze up like a rabbit sensing danger, then ran to the house and threw open the door.

Gloria was confused.

“It’s Lady Krista’s carriage. His fiance. We were out looking for her when we found you.” Henry explained. “He didn’t want to stop looking for her, but we didn’t have much of a choice. We had to get you into custody as soon as we could. And I don’t think I could handle another day in my condition.” is voice was beautiful, with warm tones and a smile. He was downright charming, and Gloria could see why he was called Perfect Henry.

He waved his arm towards the door, and she walked to the door obediently. She should have run. He wouldn’t have been able to catch her, he could hardly catch his breath.

They entered the house and Gloria saw Seneca drawing away from a nicely dressed young blonde woman as if he had just embraced her. He had a bit of a flush in his cheeks, and she wondered how much he kept hidden under his cool exterior.

“When did you get in? We went out looking for you.” asked Seneca.

“I arrived yesterday afternoon. I’m sorry I was late, but you should stay where it’s safe. What if you were killed?” Krista asked in a professional tone.

“I was more worried about you than myself.” he said, then turned to include the other woman who was standing in the room, oddly out of place in her regal clothing, as if it were from a bygone day and had been stashed away. “Mother, Krista, I have brought you the beloved of the son of Lady Malice. Gloria Reed.” he presented.

“But the Duchess’s son has been abroad on an assignment for over three years, how is she his beloved?” Krista asked. She stepped closer to Gloria to get a better look at her.

“Apparently they arrived not long ago to see his father. She says she’s been on the Islands.” Seneca filled in.

Krista’s eyes lit up. “You’re the heir.” she breathed. “You’re the child of the king. The baby he lost. Of the queen who died at the hand of terrorists. You’re his missing piece.”

“What are you talking about?” Gloria asked. “What are you all talking about?” she took a seat.

“I've seen the wedding portrait hanging in the main hall of the Palace. The wedding of King Galant and Anwyn Cupshire. You look just like her.” Krista claimed.

(Ignore Gloria in this picture, I love how Krista is looking at the woman)

The woman drew closer to get a good look at Gloria. She looked for a moment and Gloria stood there awkwardly. “It has been many years since I met her, but I do recognize her daughter. But you have the look of not the king, but of the guard. You’re Queen Anwyn’s daughter, but not the king’s.” she said. “You are not the heir to the throne. The only heir to the throne is my own, and he will rule this kingdom.” said the woman. “For I am the rightful queen.”

Gah! Did any of you see that coming? I've kept that hidden for so long, I wanted to tell you guys so much but I couldn't because it would ruin the surprise! Now that that reveal is out of the way, I have to some up with the next big plot line. It's going to be good, I just have to mold it. But you guys know how that goes already.

Thanks for reading, and please please please post your comments and thoughts, and possibly things that you'd like to see done from this point on. I'm at a bit of a junction right now, I'm able to take things into the plot and shift things. So if you have any ideas, now would be the time for them!