❧ Chapter 15: The Lies We Tell ❧

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Four Adepts of Elvin line.

Four Adepts align.

White holds back time.

Red casts the dome.

Green holds the tome.

Blue carries home the fate of all.

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The sparse light that was left to the overcast day all but disappeared as the clouds turned dark gray, little light filtered onto the area, the little town was quiet, birds and insects alike made not a peep, nor animal moved about. A place frozen in time, the illusion broken by Merryn's padded footsteps. She stopped under a large tree, its old branches twisted and bare of most leafs, the rain riveted down, creating a sinister mouth shape on the trunk.

Skitter.

Shuffle.

Scrape.

Scratch... scratch.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see it. She spun around. "Who is it? A shadow appeared it crept over the decrepit home beside the tree, it dropped inside through a jagged broken widow out of sight. Drops of vexing water dribbled on her head from the tree she hid under, Merryn startled and jumped forward, walking faster along the path. A demon spirit? Most spirits couldn't leave where they died, but demons were different, more powerful. She focused harder, the normal shadows parting and all in view became crystal clear. This was one gift that wasn't a curse to have.

Skitter.

It didn't act like a demon spirit.

Getting sick of this, everything was so hostile over here! No wonder nobody ever came back home. Once they left, probably getting eaten or possessed.

It rained harder and made pitter-patter as it hit the ground. Her hair clung to the back of her neck and the sides of her face. She pushed it away and tucked it behind an ear.

She rolled her almost healed shoulder. At least that wasn't an issue anymore. Fighting would be easier.

"Parcival?"

Right then, a disgusting wriggling mass of Nug-worms took over the path. In the Undergod's name! She backed up as he grew closer. Would it eat her?

The jade-green cat stepped out of the forest shadows, cackling.

Run!

Rolling backwards over the cobblestone walkway onto the grass, the contact with the dew pulled all the warmth from her body—suppressing a shiver, she clenched and let go of the dagger handle while tracking its movements. How to stop it? Like a pin poking her scalp, a scattering of thoughts came and went. She clenched her jaw. "This isn't you! Let go!"

She shrieked as Parcival came up behind her, crushing her to his chest, she twisted to face him. It seemed his circlet darkened, then shimmered with an odd light. "Let go! Let go of me, human! What's wrong with you?"

The cat twisted, bending into odd angles that no animal in nature ever should form from the paws up. Its skeletal structure and fur transformed to a humanoid shape, its paws changed to feet and dark brown leather boots flowed over them.

A creature no longer; a man stood in black pants, and a buttoned red vest decorated with gold etching, only his outfit changed. Maxwell's hardened face still framed by black ringlets and piercing eyes. The clawed staff hummed behind him. Raising his arms, he shouted an incantation when finished, he chuckled. A huge, swirling, crackling red portal opened.

He snapped his fingers. "Bring her to me."

Parcival stiffly dragged her over to the portal. Not another blasted portal.

She pulled an arm free and smacked his cheek. "Stop it! What are you doing?" Scanning around the area, she couldn't find him. "Where's Han?"

Parcival didn't answer.

Maxwell walked up, stopping by her ear. "They're mine for now. Do as I say. I don't make empty threats," he whispered.

Parcival pulled her into the portal and pushed her, the portal grew swirling faster pulling her toward it, she fell on her stomach clawing at the ground. No, not again!

A hissing and spitting Han was tossed through a moment later.

On the other side, the grasses dotted with wildflowers were annoying it was like everything was a mockery of the pain of these past days, and the bird's incessant chirping was a spike in an already growing headache.

Parcival wadded through over to her and just... stood staring off ahead, at nothing. Did he really have to resort to this? It wasn't needed.

Han rolled over and spat out a mouthful, wiping his mouth as he got up and patted Parcivals arm. "Come on, young man. Quit this." Han pulled on an arm and shook it, when he let go it fell limp to Parcivals side.

"What is this place?" Han came over to her.

“I've been here before.” The mansion it stood off a few feet to the East. Good, he moved it around at will. It was enough to drive a person crazy.

Han nodded. "Yes, you don't seem too confused." His eyes narrowed some. "Just what are you to him?"

She looked away at the ground.

Maxwell came through, brushing past both the men. "Follow me. Now."

She and Han followed him.

He stopped without turning. "Only her, you stay."

Stopping, Han raised an eyebrow. “Well?”

“We worked together in the past. Make sure he doesn't wonder off.” She pointed to Parcival. He had to be enchanted or something.

“Merryn?”

“This is my fault. Stay here. Watch Parcival.” She followed behind Maxwell.

On entering the house, Maxwell blew off his palm a white powder at her, while wiggling his fingers. A fine-lined smile parted his lips.

Talc! She dusted off what was in reach, throwing her most scorching look at him. Of all the dirty tricks, couldn't cast any shadow spells today.

He said, “This way if you will,” then pushed aside the hanging portière door with a hand while waiting.

She walked straight through without a word, head held high, before turning and facing him.

"Don't ignore me." She opened and closed a fist. While this sulked, hopefully he would still abide by the king guards' rules of honor... they wern't that far below true knights in rank and ethics.

His snotty smile vanished. He ran his hands through his hair before sitting on a small padded bench. “Such a sour look, it doesn't become you.”

He sat down with his head on his hands, doing so in extremely slow, exaggerated motions. Did he just flex?

She breathed in deep while still glaring. “Let's get on with it already.”

"You said not to ignore you, can't be pleased. Fine then."

He sat more relaxed with his hands on his lap and a neutral expression on his face. His thick bouncy curls framed his face just so, when he moved his head it was oh so detracting, the light played off the contours of his face.

Idiot! Stop that!

A thin smile again quivered at the edges of his lips. “I never imagined you'd fail so horribly.” His face convoluted before smoothing again.

Why the flaming 23rd hell's was he so damn happy?

“I will deal with this onus.” She willed her hand to stop shaking before folding them on her lap.

With slow motions, he untied the strings of the cape and it slid down off his back.

“You think so huh?” Maxwell said, hold his hand out a gentle light filled his palm until a teacup appeared that filled up to the brim with a steaming tea, a sweet honey scent and mint drifted over.

Her chest tightened a little. The words tumbled forth before she could stop. “I miss the old you.” She played with a dagger handle. Dear goddess, what's wrong with me?

He chuckled like he always did except that it was.. was... delicious . A long ringlet of curls fell over an eye, he flipped his hair smoothing it back.

Her eyebrow twitched multiple times. No—way—he.

Now he was licking his lips. She couldn't stop staring. A part inside wanted to jump out a window, get burned alive, anything but watch this!

Elaema, please help me resist. She licked her own back before she could stop.

He held a hand palm up, then mimed blowing a kiss, before running his fingers through his hair again and arching his back, his biceps bulged and rippled under the silk shirt.

With a glance, she scanned the room. Then back at him again. Please brain cooperate, the scrolls? He always had scrolls, lots of them, but not this time. All the shelves were empty, as were the baskets by the window. Nothing to use.

He got up, leaned forward, his shirt now half open just but an inch away—

She squeezed her eyes shut, jerking her face the other way.

"I know you still want me," his voice smooth and deep. He grinned again while slowly pulling his shirt up and over before lazily dropping it to the floor.

This had to be some demented funked up dream, going crazy, that, he smells like, like— smoke, and pine, adult fantasies , power, cinnamon of magic— and, and, and, and— wait where did that come from? She half fell, half rolled off the chair, backing away. But why?

Grinding her teeth, she forced out, "no," she shook her head. "If you think for even, one minute, one second..." Several sensations, however, were harder to control. She un-clenched her burning jaw, moving it to undo the stiff muscles. It's a spell. Remember the goal—find out what he wants—  think of Parcival. Hells bells that isn't helping. Think of a dead kitten, a poor, dead fluffy kitten.

She peeked sideways at him, trying to find the man she knew and yearned for, the one of light and kindness had died when the city did. His was the kind of handsome that stole one's soul if you stayed about too long, while the outside could send her body into fits of longing, the tempestuous black hole where his heart was greatly lacking in anything pleasing. It was dismaying wanting to romp with him and weep for what was all at the same time.

In one step, he stood in front of her, his eyes alight. "I've been thinking. I will make you pay for what you did. But really, it'd be a shame to destroy everything. Don't you agree? You can spend a year or two in the container room again. That would be a good trade." Then he ran the back of his hand down the side of her face.

She shivered but not from fear, her knees weak and legs unresponsive. A compelling need bubbled forth, to say yes. She crushed it back down. Sanity! Find it. This is madness! Don't play with madness!

Right. "Not going to happen." Her voice was sickeningly thick and husky. Going to puke. Going out of my mind, have gone insane. "Get this," she shook both her hands in front of her face, "off of me!"

"Declined, it stays on. You see... it wouldn't work in the slightest if you didn't desire me so." What does that say about you?" He took her hand, licking the top of it, his eyes peaked at the corners, becoming wolfish and so very hungry. "You so sure, angel? I'll pardon everything, be my right hand again."

"How can you whiplash so much?" Come on, think. "Don't try. It won't work." That look. A flash of memorys flew past of him doing the same exact thing countless times before, among other things.

She bit hard on her knuckles. Stop it. The tears squeezed from her eyes; she wiped them away. "Please, take this off."

His eyes lost that spark, he put his hand away, stood straight tying his shirt back up, then went back over to the chair. “As you wish, always as you wish. I will take it off, eventually. But know this. I'll be there for your last breath.” His face lowered into darkness, that drew out any last drop of goodwill left, if there ever was. And placed his hands on the arm of her empty chair, gripping it until the wood cracked and splintered. Straightening quickly, he pushed it back, and it slid across the floor, hitting the wall. Bang!

"The poxed elders did this. You know it! They didn't want to get their hands dirty, so sent you!"

She held her breath for a moment.

I can save you if you choose.

She stiffened. Don't need your kind of saving!

Then find my body and you'll see the truth.

Have far too many man troubles, and sure as fang and blood don't need to add yours to the list!

Maybe if I flex for you?

No!

Unnamed laughed lightly.

He spun around, smoothed his hair back behind his ears, then breathed in several breaths with his eyes closed before opening them slowly.

He smiled, now as to why it reached his eyes and crinkled the corners, wasn't something wise to ask about.

He motioned with his hands. “Every time I land a mortal blow, you recover. Why is that? Yet you are gaunt and pale.” He gestured for her to come over. “Well?”

So hard focusing on anything he said and—pucker this blown up mess—more how his hands looked, the length of the fingers, that little. She pinched her arm. Fight it!

"Uncomfortable? That's a true shame. I made a fine offer. It still stands. I will wear you down. I won't make you, but oh I'll make you wanten . Crave me. " He straightened up further and gave a look over, staring at her lips a moment before holding his hands behind his head and stretching while moving back a few steps. Of course, he made sure to flex his shoulder blades rippling his back muscles. All he cares about is getting his own way. Oh, blessed Elaema give me strength!

One breath, two and she calmed a fraction. Find a way to same them, find a way out of here.

Unable to answer, she jumped up and ran to the portière, or rather, where the portière had been. Now a wall of bricks appeared.

He appeared in an instant, the spell silent. and pushed her against the wall a hand on her shoulder. “I was thinking of having a nice chat with that Parcival fellow.” He squeezed her arm whispering an incantation. A cold crept into the skin, down to the muscles and bone. A fire from this cold built up it stopped just shy of where she could stand it. "I could tell him to keep walking until he fell off a nice deep canyon, you know that one south of here filled with the spikes?

Shaking, she breathed harsh breaths from her nose. “No—oo!”

Maxwell let go and quickly sat back at the table, drumming his fingers. “I suppose...now isn't the time.” He pouted his lips hard, his tone mocking.

The icy cold flaked off as the spell wore off.

Maxwell chuckled. He went over to where the exit had been and rapped it with a knuckle. “Go. They'll be a portal waiting outside.”

"What was the point of all this?"

"Come on. You should know better then to play me like that. You know why. Go." He made a dismissing hand motion.

She started to get up.

He gave a stopping movement with his hands. “When you do, you are mine . You'll always be mine. Forget the elders they did this to themselves, why save fools?” He empathized the last word with a deeper tone, then moved over, squeezing her arms and drawing her in close, squeezing her against his chest. "A small punishment a few screams, even some happy ones too."

"You're wrong! They'd never do anything like that!" She moved her head away. He's gone insane. "You will not confuse me!"

A muscle on his cheek twitched and said not a word as he breathed in deep in the nape of her neck, his warm breath tickled. "We were to be married next spring. Remember?" A mixture of emotions played across his face. "I can with time even forgive what you did. Come back to me. Let the god go free, it's not that strong, the elders can shurly trap it again. Maybe in a nice tree, like the huge old one by the golden brook even."

She stared, her mouth falling open. He was serious. He wasn't trying to.... "Uhh." Her chest hurt, then clenched and spread into her shoulder. She hissed and griped it. Not now. Must be calm.

It had to be the spell. Right. No. Elaema would send more pain for the lies. Don't need this.

"I don't know anymore."

He let her go, standing a ways away by a window.

"Yes, you do. Admit it."

She held her breath willing the burning tears away, spun around and ran to the entrance, it reappeared as she neared the wall. "Sacred forest, soothe me, hide me, lead me home for I am lost," she said in a soft-tone.

"For the lost shall find our family of bygone ages, and a joy that transcends time." Had forgotten that he knew the prayers too. He hadn't said them in for years.

He was before her again. Ah, his eyes still held the anger as did his face, but that something that hadn't been shown for so long almost forgotten had come back again.

"Don't you know I can't? Please, understand." I can't let them die. The elders they held our immortality within them, if they died, all of us would age . Why this was, she didn't know.

He sighed. “You have a new mission. Eject that sad excuse of a god from the pendent, re-seal it into a rock or other hard object and bring it back to me."

He paused. "Fail this and Parcival will suddenly think he's a bird. If you die, I'll just bring you back. So forget about the elders.”

She paused. "Yes. I remember." Then hung her head. A cold clamminess stole the warmth from her hands, rubbing them didn't change this. The ache in her chest that was always there, clenched harder. She muttered a prayer of fools, gods, and heroes.

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Outside, a portal opened to a wavering image of the Falboia Woods. She walked over to it.

Parcival ran after her. “Hey! Are you going to tell us what happened?” Parcival yelled this.

“Calm down. Like I said, we've worked together before.” She rubbed the still aching shoulder, warming it and her fingers. Glad he's back. The spell, whatever it was called, she dubbed it rip-pants-off-and fling them spell would do for now.

Need to find a safe area for them, then get them to stay there.

“You never told me that.” He snorted, then jerked his arms above his head and down again.

Don't look at him, don't breathe. The spell was still in full effect and Parcival was too much to handle right now.

Ignoring him, she faced Han. "I need to talk to you about something."

"Are you ignoring me?" He shouted.

His ears perked up, swiveling behind, but she didn't face him, the glamor spell wasn't of the normal type a weak human would not have ripped off his clothing by now and... and.. His scent it's of apples and an... an...earthy... Stop! She bit the inside of her cheek. Portal. Han. Look at the amazing cute cat-man. Yes. Give him a robe someday and maybe carve a pipe to look like a stem of wheat. Her breathing calmed. Good. Good, now go. Feel nothing. Be stone.

“Let's go.” She walked through. On the other side, Parcival hesitated, then a moment later came through with Han following. It closed with a flash behind them.

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