115Over the Fantasy
Chapter 18
The weight of Queen Ivelisse's death left a heavy burden upon the shoulders of Laura and Bryce. The beautiful royal had been their constant companion for nearly two weeks, and to see her die in such a dreadful fashion had chilled Laura to the bone. Visions of the dark knight plagued her as she saw him slit her throat over and over again, each time she shut her eyes. She called me Arien, thought the young girl, a worried frown creasing her brow. I just hope I can live up to the prophecy when we reach Orvadren and set things right…
The silence had created a wide gulf between the two young travelers. Laura had attempted to speak with Bryce, to tell him if it was anyone's fault, it was hers alone for insisting that they rest when danger was around. Yet Bryce remained silent, staring directly ahead of himself. However, he did not stray far from Laura at any time, which she attributed to the innate feeling that he should protect her as her Knight. Neither could forget what had happened when he had stalked away earlier that day.
The silence was driving Laura mad as she would stop and look at him from the corner of her eye far too often. His grey eyes were empty without any light behind them, halfway obscured by the dark hair that fell across them like a curtain. His mouth was set in a grim line, and he was all too consumed with his thoughts of failure. At least, Laura thought sadly, I'm not all alone and I still have him, even if he won't talk to me.
The sun had set many hours before when Bryce finally spoke to her.
"We will make rest here tonight," he said shortly, reaching into his pack, one of Vira's saddle bags, to extract some of the scarce amount of dried meet they still had. He offered half to Laura.
"Thanks," she muttered, almost too tired to speak the one word. After eating the small morsel, she felt much more replenished. She glanced longingly at the saddle bag that sat next to Bryce.
"What I wouldn't give for Vira to have been able to stay," she said, sighing wistfully and thinking of the terrible scars she would have from the blisters that Gwen's slippers had given her. The small shoes were certainly never meant to do as much walking as they had done over the past days. Now, they were barely recognizable, just as the dress Gwen had leant her. It was torn and the gray color was more brown now from all of the dirt it had collected from nights spent on the ground. It was tattered along the hem as well, and had picked up several ragged rips from where Laura had gotten snagged by sharp roots.
To her surprise, Bryce sighed as well and spoke. "Vira is much better off where she is now. I wonder if she made it home."
Laura gave a small smile, relieved that he was speaking with her again. She was sure he wouldn't be able to see her in the dark, though, as they dared not light a fire as they got closer and closer to Orvadren.
"I'm sure she did," Laura replied as cheerfully as she could. "When I first met you, you remember that you told her to run to the South? Well, she did… until I fell off. She's the smartest horse I've ever met." Laura smiled once again at the memory of meeting Bryce. She had hated him for his pomposity. Although, that was the first time she had seen a man die. Bryce had slain those Galdrein scouts without the blink of an eye…
"I never expected anything like this would happen," she murmured, so quietly that she could almost not hear herself.
Bryce looked over at his companion, and though he could barely see her outline through the dark night, he swore he could see her shudder. I reached over to his pack and extracted the first soft material he felt, thinking it was a blanket. Yet, it was Ivelisse's cloak. He frowned, immediately snapping out of the brief lull in his grief that he had experienced while listening to Laura speak.
"Go to sleep. If we start early tomorrow, we'll reach Orvadren by nightfall."
Laura was surprised by his cold tone, and she picked up the cloak as he tossed it haphazardly in her direction. She decided to attempt to comfort him once more.
"Bryce, listen to me," she began, in her most serious voice, the one she used when in debate class. "Ivelisse's death was not your—"
"I said sleep, Lady," he repeated, effectively cutting her off. Laura was stung.
"Ah, we're back to that now, are we? No Laura, just Lady? You can't be cold forever, Bryce. You can't handle everything by your –"
"Sleep!" he interjected once more, becoming uncomfortable and angry as she continued.
"No! Stop cutting me off! Don't be an asshole, Bryce, I know you're hurting. I am too! I know she wasn't my queen or anything, but she was my friend! And I feel more guilty than you can imagine! I should have never fought with you, stopped walking and sat down. I keep thinking, if I hadn't stopped, then this wouldn't have happened. None of this would have happened. If it weren't for me, Barnabus wouldn't be dead either, or Sir Avery, or anyone that was or will be killed because of me and this stupid prophecy!" she was rambling now, unable to stop the tone of bitterness that crept into her voice. "So don't be so stoic, Bryce! Don't shut me out because it makes me feel even more alone to be here with someone but feel a million miles away from them!"
At last, she stopped, literally slapping a hand over her mouth to make herself stop speaking. She glanced over at Bryce's silhouette, barely able to see him in the dark, yet she could tell that he had not moved. Laura was sure that he was angrier than ever, yet part of her hoped that she had gotten through to him.
"Please," she whispered, reaching out with her voice into the darkness. "Please, say something…" She heard a soft rustle beside her, and felt brief hope.
Yet, all he did was turn away from her, pulling his own cloak over himself. "Sleep," he said coldly, feeling dead inside, and knowing that as much as he would try, sleep would not come to him that night. "I'll wake you in the morning."
After nearly an hour of not being able to sleep because of visions of death haunting the edges of her vision, Laura finally slipped into unconsciousness. It was to be the first night that she didn't have dreams of Arien and Haven. Her first night of real sleep for what seemed like weeks.
Bryce, though he had turned away from her and told her to sleep, had not heeded his own words. For an hour, he listened to the night noises that the forest made, ready to jump up at any time and defend himself and the Lady Madrigal. He breathed a sigh of relief when he finally heard her breathing become more regular and slow, meaning that she was asleep.
Laura had never ceased to confuse him ever since he had literally seen her fall from the sky the day that he had saved her from drowning and from the scouts of Galdrein's army. Bryce breathed out heavily, slumping his shoulders. She must despise me, he thought, thinking of her words from before. All I have ever done is cause her grief. He never meant to be cold or cross to her, yet it was always how he ended up acting. Ever since she had started to call him Haven, he had become constantly angry. He knew he felt something for her, as much as he wished to deny it, yet when she called him by another man's name, a man from the past that she dreamt of at night, he was hurt and prepared to distance himself from her. Bryce was aware that Laura would probably have to die a few days hence, and selfishly, he thought he could save himself more pain by distancing himself from her. Yet, he knew that he would die protecting her before he allowed anyone to harm a hair on her head.
"Bryce…"
He started when he heard the voice in the clearing where he and Laura slept. He looked over to the sleeping Lady Madrigal, yet realized that she was still sleeping peacefully. It was not her who had spoken.
"Behind you…"
He spun around, ready to pull his dagger as he felt a cool hand touch his shoulder. Yet, even before he was able to turn around fully, he knew that the hand meant him no harm. Taking a deep breath, he faced the person sideways, at first nearly blinded by the glow that emanated from the being.
"Laura?" though as he spoke the name, he knew it was not. He corrected himself. "Arien…" His eyes widened.
A woman who looked almost identical to Laura Dunn was kneeling behind him in the darkness, her body lit by the soft lavender light that outlined her. She looked like a ghost, but Bryce knew she was solid from the hand that created a comfortable weight on his shoulder. It was uncanny, the resemblance between the Goddess and her reincarnation. Yet, Bryce realized, Arien herself looked perhaps a decade older than the teenaged Laura, and she was more muscular, not possessing the weak, frail body that Laura did.
"Y-you are supposed to be dead, Lady," he whispered, attempting to turn around fully so her could face her and bow in respect, but her gentle hand exerted more force to keep him grounded.
"Aye, Knight, yet here I am," she said softly, giving him a soft smile that made her face younger, transforming her so that she looked exactly like the Lady Madrigal.
"Am I dreaming then?" he asked.
"Nearly, Knight. Yet you will not let yourself rest, so I have come to help you. Tomorrow night, you shall reach Orvadren, yet do not seek Kendrick until daylight. You shall battle under the pure light of the sun. Even Kendrick and his dark army cannot soil the light of Heaven."
"Lady, we shall never prevail. A whole army—"
Arien placed a finger against his lips to silence him. "You think her weak, do you not?" the Goddess asked, glancing over at Laura slumbering nearby. "Weak, she is not. Two days hence, the true Lady Madrigal shall be seen, and all fears you hold shall be erased. Yet, sleep, Bryce, sleep, for you shall only have one more night of peace after and then all shall change. A new world will be born if you succeed, or the world will die if you fail."
Bryce suddenly began to feel overwhelmingly tired as if the Goddess were channeling sleep into him. "I will protect her," he whispered as Arien softly pushed him back to the ground and covered him with his cloak once more.
"You shall love her," she murmured in return. The feel of her lips against each of his eyelids was the last thing Bryce felt before he drifted off into sleep.
The flap of the tent was flung open early in the morning and Melgraeth hobbled in, not phased by the naked bodies of Kendrick and Rachel splayed across the bed.
"What is it now, crone?" questioned Kendrick, obviously angered by the sudden intrusion. Rachel sat up and stretched languidly, not ashamed as the silken sheets pooled about her waist, exposing her breasts. Kendrick's glance towards her told her all she needed to know, and silently, unphased, she gathered her garments and slowly dressed. Rachel proudly exited the tent through the flap that Melgraeth had ungraciously left open.
Kendrick glowered as the old woman cackled and fingered the golden amulet that always hung round her neck. The jewel was glowing faintly. "There had best be a good reason for this unexpected … visit." Melgraeth cackled once more, her old husk of a face creasing into deep folds of wrinkles.
"They come, the two, to battle for Light, to emerge from woods and endless night. Darkness shall conquer and steal their breath, for tomorrow morn, the Lady finds death."