Chapter 51
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The warmth of their love making followed her to the Veil. Around her the fountains ran clear, the sun sparkling off the water, the flowers bloomed huge and bright filling the air with their fragrance.
She smiled at Ilun, his tail thumping on the ground, the beast happy to see her so happy.
"Him after all?" the familiar voice of the shade broke her from her celebration. She turned to the smiling woman.
Isilla touched her chest, "Whatever that was, this binding, he engaged in it with me."
"And more besides," the woman laughed. "Wonderful for you, little Sorgia, so wonderful but not done."
"There is no more, I felt it, it's done," Isilla said.
The shade shook her head, "Must use."
Isilla frowned, "No. I'm not doing anything else until you explain to me what's happening. The last time I saw you, you said something about magic dying with me."
The woman smiled showing bright teeth, "Yes, it will. You, Sorgia, you must reset the glass, the sands are running out."
"You speak in riddles," Isilla said.
"That is what death does, muddles the words, hides what needs said. What needs done," the shade said, her voice sad and heavy.
"Then you are no help, so why are you here? If you can't tell me what's happening to me, why are you here?"
"You are awakening, bit by bit, slow, much slower than should but you will be very powerful Sorgia. Will set world right, turn the glass," the shade said solemnly, her bright eyes fixed on Isilla.
"More riddles?" she rolled her eyes.
The shade shrugged, "How can answer when you don't ask?"
Isilla opened her mouth to argue before she stopped, her mind rushing over the things that had happened in the weeks she had been in the Dark Realm, what the shade had told, and not told her. "The healing," she said finally, slowly, testing the communication, "that's not because I'm a dreamweaver."
"No, little Sorgia," the shade said, a smile in her voice.
"That is because," she started.
"You are what you are, have always been," the woman said brightly, her words reminding her of Arren's from weeks ago. You are whatever you are, he had said over that first breakfast between them.
"So I was always meant to come here, as a bride?" she poked at the boundaries of what the woman could tell her.
"You or some other but it is is you so it must be," she waved the question away, unimportant.
"You were the last, before me, you were the last Sorgia, the last bride," Isilla tried again.
The shade nodded.
"Why so long? What happened?"
"Long? Longer than it should but not so long. Only a handful of mothers. Few women from me to you. My blood, your blood. My little Sorgia."
Her gate opened and she turned to the sound. Aseir this time strolled through, scratching his bare chest, his face, eyes still hidden pointed at the sky. She turned back to the shade but she had disappeared.
Sighing, she turned her attention to the man who had come to see her. "Hello, Aseir," she said softly, crossing the garden to where he sat with Ilun, scratching his head.
"Hello, Isilla," he responded. "I came to see if you were keeping your promise to us."
"Of course, you don't have to be suspicious of me, I said I would help you and I will. My fever has only just broken but I spoke with my husband and-"
"You told the prince? But his family are the people holding us!" he half shouted at her.
She shook her head, "Not Arren. He doesn't know anything about this but he'll help me find out more. I've only just gotten over my fever and with his assistance we can find you faster."
"What help does he offer?" Aseir sneered at her.
"Whatever help I need," she said confidently touching her chest over the space where they were connected.
Aseir frowned, "I don't like that you've gotten Mireia's hopes up. She is young, she doesn't know how things are yet. She still thinks that we can live outside."
"You can, you will. I won't leave you, you helped save my life," she replied, reaching forward and touching him. His skin felt cool and dry under her fingers.
He looked at her, his lips slightly turned down but kept his arm still, thinking. "I think," he said slowly, "that you should see what we see."
"Alright," she said standing, "Take me where you can show me."
He nodded and taking her hand, they walked out of her space and into his.
She looked at the strange jumble of settings. Patches of grass, half realized buildings, lakes that fell off into nothing. There was no reason to it, unlike her own courtyard where she modeled it from a real space, expanding and building on it as she liked, Aseir's space held no cohesive points. The effect was jarring, Isilla felt at any moment she would slip through his reality to some other. Above it all, the sky churned like a bucket of water sloshing back and forth.
She directed her attention back to Aseir who stared at the ground, his cheeks red. She smiled, "It's very nice."
He nodded and the darkness spread from him, changing his landscape. It twisted around her feet, the ground she stood on become the dark stone of a hall. Walls rose around them, the ceiling close but still dark, covered in shadow, the only only light from a hall, just beyond them. In the center of it all, a bed. Metal frame, thin mattress, and chains.
"They don't chain us up anymore, they know we won't run away," he said.
Her eyes crossed the familiar space, the only thing missing the dragging sound of someone coming. "Aseir, how old are you?" she asked finally.
"I'm nineteen, I think. That's what Udane says, she keeps count," he replied.
"I should talk to her but Arren will help you. He won't let you stay here. I will not allow it," she said.
"Who are you to decide? You're just a woman," he snickered releasing his energy, letting his world settle back into its various states of being.
"I'm a princess and he is my husband. But I think," she spoke slowly, the words difficult to choose, "that he knows this place."
"Is he like us?" Aseir asked surprised.
She shook her head, "No, he is something else entirely."
What did his father do to him, she thought as she looked down at her hands, the feeling of numbness spreading through them, their form flickering in and out.
"You can stop that you know," he said causally.
"What?" she asked, her body feeling further away.
"You can stop it, just focus on something here and you won't wake up," he explained. "We do it all the time. It's better to stay asleep."
She nodded, "Thank you, I'll try it some other time."
The world shifted and she opened her eyes in her own bright bedroom.
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The warmth of their love making followed her to the Veil. Around her the fountains ran clear, the sun sparkling off the water, the flowers bloomed huge and bright filling the air with their fragrance.
She smiled at Ilun, his tail thumping on the ground, the beast happy to see her so happy.
"Him after all?" the familiar voice of the shade broke her from her celebration. She turned to the smiling woman.
Isilla touched her chest, "Whatever that was, this binding, he engaged in it with me."
"And more besides," the woman laughed. "Wonderful for you, little Sorgia, so wonderful but not done."
"There is no more, I felt it, it's done," Isilla said.
The shade shook her head, "Must use."
Isilla frowned, "No. I'm not doing anything else until you explain to me what's happening. The last time I saw you, you said something about magic dying with me."
The woman smiled showing bright teeth, "Yes, it will. You, Sorgia, you must reset the glass, the sands are running out."
"You speak in riddles," Isilla said.
"That is what death does, muddles the words, hides what needs said. What needs done," the shade said, her voice sad and heavy.
"Then you are no help, so why are you here? If you can't tell me what's happening to me, why are you here?"
"You are awakening, bit by bit, slow, much slower than should but you will be very powerful Sorgia. Will set world right, turn the glass," the shade said solemnly, her bright eyes fixed on Isilla.
"More riddles?" she rolled her eyes.
The shade shrugged, "How can answer when you don't ask?"
Isilla opened her mouth to argue before she stopped, her mind rushing over the things that had happened in the weeks she had been in the Dark Realm, what the shade had told, and not told her. "The healing," she said finally, slowly, testing the communication, "that's not because I'm a dreamweaver."
"No, little Sorgia," the shade said, a smile in her voice.
"That is because," she started.
"You are what you are, have always been," the woman said brightly, her words reminding her of Arren's from weeks ago. You are whatever you are, he had said over that first breakfast between them.
"So I was always meant to come here, as a bride?" she poked at the boundaries of what the woman could tell her.
"You or some other but it is is you so it must be," she waved the question away, unimportant.
"You were the last, before me, you were the last Sorgia, the last bride," Isilla tried again.
The shade nodded.
"Why so long? What happened?"
"Long? Longer than it should but not so long. Only a handful of mothers. Few women from me to you. My blood, your blood. My little Sorgia."
Her gate opened and she turned to the sound. Aseir this time strolled through, scratching his bare chest, his face, eyes still hidden pointed at the sky. She turned back to the shade but she had disappeared.
Sighing, she turned her attention to the man who had come to see her. "Hello, Aseir," she said softly, crossing the garden to where he sat with Ilun, scratching his head.
"Hello, Isilla," he responded. "I came to see if you were keeping your promise to us."
"Of course, you don't have to be suspicious of me, I said I would help you and I will. My fever has only just broken but I spoke with my husband and-"
"You told the prince? But his family are the people holding us!" he half shouted at her.
She shook her head, "Not Arren. He doesn't know anything about this but he'll help me find out more. I've only just gotten over my fever and with his assistance we can find you faster."
"What help does he offer?" Aseir sneered at her.
"Whatever help I need," she said confidently touching her chest over the space where they were connected.
Aseir frowned, "I don't like that you've gotten Mireia's hopes up. She is young, she doesn't know how things are yet. She still thinks that we can live outside."
"You can, you will. I won't leave you, you helped save my life," she replied, reaching forward and touching him. His skin felt cool and dry under her fingers.
He looked at her, his lips slightly turned down but kept his arm still, thinking. "I think," he said slowly, "that you should see what we see."
"Alright," she said standing, "Take me where you can show me."
He nodded and taking her hand, they walked out of her space and into his.
She looked at the strange jumble of settings. Patches of grass, half realized buildings, lakes that fell off into nothing. There was no reason to it, unlike her own courtyard where she modeled it from a real space, expanding and building on it as she liked, Aseir's space held no cohesive points. The effect was jarring, Isilla felt at any moment she would slip through his reality to some other. Above it all, the sky churned like a bucket of water sloshing back and forth.
She directed her attention back to Aseir who stared at the ground, his cheeks red. She smiled, "It's very nice."
He nodded and the darkness spread from him, changing his landscape. It twisted around her feet, the ground she stood on become the dark stone of a hall. Walls rose around them, the ceiling close but still dark, covered in shadow, the only only light from a hall, just beyond them. In the center of it all, a bed. Metal frame, thin mattress, and chains.
"They don't chain us up anymore, they know we won't run away," he said.
Her eyes crossed the familiar space, the only thing missing the dragging sound of someone coming. "Aseir, how old are you?" she asked finally.
"I'm nineteen, I think. That's what Udane says, she keeps count," he replied.
"I should talk to her but Arren will help you. He won't let you stay here. I will not allow it," she said.
"Who are you to decide? You're just a woman," he snickered releasing his energy, letting his world settle back into its various states of being.
"I'm a princess and he is my husband. But I think," she spoke slowly, the words difficult to choose, "that he knows this place."
"Is he like us?" Aseir asked surprised.
She shook her head, "No, he is something else entirely."
What did his father do to him, she thought as she looked down at her hands, the feeling of numbness spreading through them, their form flickering in and out.
"You can stop that you know," he said causally.
"What?" she asked, her body feeling further away.
"You can stop it, just focus on something here and you won't wake up," he explained. "We do it all the time. It's better to stay asleep."
She nodded, "Thank you, I'll try it some other time."
The world shifted and she opened her eyes in her own bright bedroom.
The warmth of their love making followed her to the Veil. Around her the fountains ran clear, the sun sparkling off the water, the flowers bloomed huge and bright filling the air with their fragrance.She smiled at Ilun, his tail thumping on the ground, the beast happy to see her so happy."Him after all?" the familiar voice of the shade broke her from her celebration. She turned to the smiling woman.Isilla touched her chest, "Whatever that was, this binding, he engaged in it with me.""And more besides," the woman laughed. "Wonderful for you, little Sorgia, so wonderful but not done.""There is no more, I felt it, it's done," Isilla said.The shade shook her head, "Must use."Isilla frowned, "No. I'm not doing anything else until you explain to me what's happening. The last time I saw you, you said something about magic dying with me."The woman smiled showing bright teeth, "Yes, it will. You, Sorgia, you must reset the glass, the sands are running out.""You speak in riddles," Isilla said."That is what death does, muddles the words, hides what needs said. What needs done," the shade said, her voice sad and heavy."Then you are no help, so why are you here? If you can't tell me what's happening to me, why are you here?""You are awakening, bit by bit, slow, much slower than should but you will be very powerful Sorgia. Will set world right, turn the glass," the shade said solemnly, her bright eyes fixed on Isilla."More riddles?" she rolled her eyes.The shade shrugged, "How can answer when you don't ask?"Isilla opened her mouth to argue before she stopped, her mind rushing over the things that had happened in the weeks she had been in the Dark Realm, what the shade had told, and not told her. "The healing," she said finally, slowly, testing the communication, "that's not because I'm a dreamweaver.""No, little Sorgia," the shade said, a smile in her voice."That is because," she started."You are what you are, have always been," the woman said brightly, her words reminding her of Arren's from weeks ago. You are whatever you are, he had said over that first breakfast between them."So I was always meant to come here, as a bride?" she poked at the boundaries of what the woman could tell her."You or some other but it is is you so it must be," she waved the question away, unimportant."You were the last, before me, you were the last Sorgia, the last bride," Isilla tried again.The shade nodded."Why so long? What happened?""Long? Longer than it should but not so long. Only a handful of mothers. Few women from me to you. My blood, your blood. My little Sorgia."Her gate opened and she turned to the sound. Aseir this time strolled through, scratching his bare chest, his face, eyes still hidden pointed at the sky. She turned back to the shade but she had disappeared.Sighing, she turned her attention to the man who had come to see her. "Hello, Aseir," she said softly, crossing the garden to where he sat with Ilun, scratching his head."Hello, Isilla," he responded. "I came to see if you were keeping your promise to us.""Of course, you don't have to be suspicious of me, I said I would help you and I will. My fever has only just broken but I spoke with my husband and-""You told the prince? But his family are the people holding us!" he half shouted at her.She shook her head, "Not Arren. He doesn't know anything about this but he'll help me find out more. I've only just gotten over my fever and with his assistance we can find you faster.""What help does he offer?" Aseir sneered at her."Whatever help I need," she said confidently touching her chest over the space where they were connected.Aseir frowned, "I don't like that you've gotten Mireia's hopes up. She is young, she doesn't know how things are yet. She still thinks that we can live outside.""You can, you will. I won't leave you, you helped save my life," she replied, reaching forward and touching him. His skin felt cool and dry under her fingers.He looked at her, his lips slightly turned down but kept his arm still, thinking. "I think," he said slowly, "that you should see what we see.""Alright," she said standing, "Take me where you can show me."He nodded and taking her hand, they walked out of her space and into his.She looked at the strange jumble of settings. Patches of grass, half realized buildings, lakes that fell off into nothing. There was no reason to it, unlike her own courtyard where she modeled it from a real space, expanding and building on it as she liked, Aseir's space held no cohesive points. The effect was jarring, Isilla felt at any moment she would slip through his reality to some other. Above it all, the sky churned like a bucket of water sloshing back and forth.She directed her attention back to Aseir who stared at the ground, his cheeks red. She smiled, "It's very nice."He nodded and the darkness spread from him, changing his landscape. It twisted around her feet, the ground she stood on become the dark stone of a hall. Walls rose around them, the ceiling close but still dark, covered in shadow, the only only light from a hall, just beyond them. In the center of it all, a bed. Metal frame, thin mattress, and chains."They don't chain us up anymore, they know we won't run away," he said.Her eyes crossed the familiar space, the only thing missing the dragging sound of someone coming. "Aseir, how old are you?" she asked finally."I'm nineteen, I think. That's what Udane says, she keeps count," he replied."I should talk to her but Arren will help you. He won't let you stay here. I will not allow it," she said."Who are you to decide? You're just a woman," he snickered releasing his energy, letting his world settle back into its various states of being."I'm a princess and he is my husband. But I think," she spoke slowly, the words difficult to choose, "that he knows this place.""Is he like us?" Aseir asked surprised.She shook her head, "No, he is something else entirely."What did his father do to him, she thought as she looked down at her hands, the feeling of numbness spreading through them, their form flickering in and out."You can stop that you know," he said causally."What?" she asked, her body feeling further away."You can stop it, just focus on something here and you won't wake up," he explained. "We do it all the time. It's better to stay asleep."She nodded, "Thank you, I'll try it some other time."The world shifted and she opened her eyes in her own bright bedroom.
