Destinies Unknown

'Thank you, father.' I squealed, honestly overjoyed, and kissing him on the lips repeatedly. He returned my embrace, stooping over to match my height.

'You are very, very welcome, my love.' he replied, gently stroking my back and hair, only to pull away and straighten himself, smoothing his coat with fingers heavy with golden rings pregnant with precious stones, 'You are very special to me and you deserve to be rewarded.'

He gave it to me! He actually gave it to me!

I opened the box again, still in a state of disbelief and my heart racing to the very ends of the Five and back, before I drew the necklace free from its box and turned around, 'If you will.' I said, holding the ends of the chain up over my shoulders, excited to wear my necklace.

He took the delicate chain in his gnarled hands and managed to close the lock while I held my golden hair to one side, 'Father,' I began, 'Might I have a further boon?'

All fear I felt walking down this hallway evaporated, banished by the light of love that my father showed me, like monsters in the night chased away by the coming of the dawn's early light.

'Anything, my love,' he replied, his voice a rich baritone that brought me to mind of ancient oak, 'Anything that I am able to give you, it is yours.'

'Oh, it is not a thing,' I said, savoring what I already had in mind, 'it is a task for me.'

'To the farthest star and back, across time and space.' He crooned those words of affection we used to share when he would put me to sleep when I was younger. My heart sang to hear them. It had been years. They were as much affirmations of commitment as they were declarations of love.

The sounds of merrymaking filtered down the ornate hallway, audible laughter and the clinking of champagne glasses dancing from the gold-threaded marble floors and bouncing down from stone arches that were lined with filaments of silver ornamentation.

I raised my hand and pointed with a manicured finger down the path from which we had come. It was a smug moment for me. I'm sure if there had been a mirror for me to use, I would have already been standing before it and admiring the utter rightness of what I was about to say even as I spoke the words while wearing my father's gift.

'Behead Illienna du Tallisaude.'

***

Hot sunlight caused my face to burn, searing a bright red glare through my eyelids even as I awoke with a start. What hour was it? How long had I been asleep? What... what was I doing here...? I could feel thin lines of sweat trailing down my temples or forming pools along my neck. My blonde hair was matted to my bare shoulders and my neck, forming a disgustingly humid layer that clung to my sweat-sheeted skin.

I had slept naked, for the clothes I wore on my journey to this outpost were still wet, and to reach into my rucksack and search for new attire was beyond what my pained and exhausted body could endure. It was no more than a few seconds after I opened my eyes that memories of the previous night's events had suddenly come washing in like a raging torrent, a never-ending savage wave of raw emotions and imagery that bludgeoned at the crumbling cliffs of my sanity.

I closed my eyes again in the hopes that if I opened them, this would prove to just be part of some terrible nightmare, yet... it was not a nightmare. To open my eyes and see the reality for what it was proved to be more and more painful each time and by the fifth I was close to throwing myself out of the window yet I was too afraid to do even that.

This was reality, and I would no longer be waking in my chambers as I had done countless times before. I would no longer be able to jolt Naia awake by pouring a glass of water on her face or kicking her off the bed. I would no longer see my father in his workspace tending to things that interested him or attending to his official duties in his throne room. Things I had taken for granted, all that and more. Gone. Things were different now. I hugged my shoulders and stroked my arms, mumbling incoherently.

Breathing suddenly became a conscious effort, and I struggled to suck in as much air as I could for my vision was greying and my mind was again awash in suffering and agony. I tried to stand, yet hot pain, fresh and raw knifed through my abdomen.

The pain drew my violet eyes down to the stab wounds and what I saw would have horrified me if I had any more room in my heart left to feel anything else except the anguish that tormented my every waking moment. Black tendrils wormed their way from the three punctures that wept a viscous fluid of browns, yellows, and dead reds. I tried touching them but the puffy skin absolutely burned at the slightest touch and to even move brought anew waves of agony that was enough to cause me to grit my teeth.

I couldn't help but laugh in misery at the situation even as I stared at the weeping wounds, 'As if my life could not possibly get any worse, now I'm going to have to live with scars. I am now the lowest of the low.'

***

The ancient outpost was a good place to hide by any measure, yet I felt compelled to leave it behind. I could not stay. I had to leave. I had no plans, but perhaps if I could somehow make my way to the other kingdoms of the Five then I would be free from all the madness plaguing my heart. The thought made sense. I could forget everything and start anew. It brought no peace to my aching heart but I felt that it was something I had to do.

To inform you of the lands where I lived, only the most rudimentary explanation is needed. The Five Kingdoms of Erudiné are composed of the lands of the elves to the east called Ninnevaron, the dwarves to the north who dwell in the mountainous regions of Andulin, the lands of men in the west, Ylmandoras, the steppes of the orcs to the south which is Kaxxos, and lastly, the cosmopolitan city-state of Marathon in the center of it all.

Marathon, as a city-state kingdom, is governed by a secretive body of wealthy merchants whose names are spoken of only in hushed tones, openly said just behind closed doors and in between trusted circles, for to do so openly risks their rebuke - or worse. The city-state is where most of the races of Erudiné congregate for trade and talk, where the goods and services of all the kingdoms, both major and minor, are bartered or sold to those seeking and willing to pay the price.

It was not an uncommon sight to see a weary traveler whose command of the local language was skewed overmuch and whose manner of speaking was difficult to comprehend, and whose attire looked to be as confusing as his or her native tongue, leading a caravan of carts that looked to be of a style and fashion wholly foreign to any of the Five, pulled by strange beasts of burden cloaked in colorful blankets of strange fabrics for they looked ill-suited to the local climes. These trader-travelers spoke of journeys months and months long, and spanned thousands upon thousands of leagues, recounting names of such exotic places like Uraggon, Tel Khatte, Suru, Naganye, Sant Pateryos, and many more.

In the one time I had accompanied my father to Marathon, I encountered one such caravan. The traveler's goods exemplified the word exotic and ranged from clay figures of such weird and bestial creatures that could barely be described as anything human, new and exciting brews of alcoholic beverages, to the sweetest philters that were said to cast whoever drank it in such maddening and undying love, to services of old crones who could predict the future or cast a spell so powerful it could strike a man dead with but a gesture.

There was no destination in mind, but as I left the outpost after rinsing by the tiny stream once more, I took an easterly route towards Marathon. I imagined that the precious items I took would allow me the best creature comforts even as I rested and recovered. The wounds on my abdomen pained me to no end, the sharp pain I felt this morning soon expanding to crawl up my ribs and down my right leg to become this throbbing, dull ache that sent stabs of red hot pokers through my flesh with each step I took.

Despite this, I tried my best. I navigated using the sun and the direction of the wind, foregoing the use of roads for I had no desire to attract any attention to myself due to bandits and marauders no doubt now making their way to the king's burned out castle. I had very little experience outside Nevermore, though I was not stupid enough to think that a solitary young lady would not attract the kind of attention that would see me raped and robbed at the very least.

The heartlands of Ylmandoras were still relatively safe, yet the further away my feet took me would see the risk of running into goblins or orcs or bandits rising exponentially. And so I journeyed, burdened by the anguish in my heart and the agony near my womb, yet little did I know that as all things in life go, anything is immeasurably easier said than done.

Time had long since lost its meaning and my perception of reality had begun to slip and fail. My skin felt hot, and yet I found myself in moments of fractured awareness shivering on the ground despite being exposed to the hot glare of the sun. Sometimes I caught myself wondering if this was some manner of test to pass, some cruel torture that would see me delivered back to my chambers the day prior to all of this happening and all would be well if I but endured a little bit more.

I would see Naia there, again, asleep in bed, the lord-baron, out and about and tending to his duties for he was well awake always before the crack of dawn. The guards would be changing duties as those responsible for the night's watch would be replaced by those set to guard during the day and I would scoff and scowl at them even as I passed their stations on my way down to the kitchen to have a hearty breakfast of the sweetest breads and the richest creams.

Have you ever drowned? Have you ever desired something as bad as a drowning man desired to breathe? My heart burned for that fantasy even as some distant part of me recognized fever dreams brought about by severe delirium. Every fiber of my being wanted very much so for a return to the past, and in my fragmentary memories of the next few days, I had caught myself having conversations with objects and animals, begging and pleading with them or asking for favors.

I crossed rivers and valleys, teetered on the edges of tall cliffs, climbed trees, or even ran down well worn paths despite my trying to avoid them in the first place. I was the leader of a pack of wolves that hunted feral beasts by day and slept in a cozy den by night. I witnessed snowcapped mountains beneath me as I clutched tight to the backs of soaring eagles, and sailed to distant lands on wooden ships after befriending the hardened sailors, becoming one with the natives and forgetting the life I left behind to start anew.

I could have done all that and more, yet I could have just as easily been sitting and mumbling in one spot hallucinating a lifetime's journey to nowhere.

Sometimes I remember being seated upon the ground, solving complex formulae using my fingers to draw in the mud, as I tried to figure a way to turn back the clock, or perhaps if I bargained with life enough I would be returned to where my heart so desperately wanted to be, yet my faint consciousness was sorely disappointed each and every time it turned out to not be so.

Nothing was certain, anymore. The only certain thing now was that I was dying. I was dying in so many different ways. The distant part of my mind that was still conscious of what was happening seemed to view these events from an ever-growing gulf, becoming further and further away, the voice it used to shout warnings and cries of help becoming more and more distant and weak.

My memories of this event were incredibly fragmented, to say the least, but I remembered just enough.

***

It had been an unknown number of hours or days since I departed and I had witnessed a hundred or so sunrises and sunsets that I could no longer tell were real or otherwise but the lapping of water against the side of my head, the sensation of river rocks beneath me, and my eyes facing directly up into the dusk's fading light told me that maybe I was lying along the banks of some unknown river.

I could no longer feel my legs, and the ache in my abdomen had become such a constant companion that I could no longer even be certain if I still suffered or was free from its agonizing touch. I wanted to look down, yet the effort I put into trying just saw me flop weakly around like a fish stranded on dry land. I was dying.

As the setting sun vanished behind the distant mountain peaks, darkness began to enfold the skies, revealing those same stars from when I first escaped Nevermore. The Heavenly Path was again revealed, and amazingly, the twin moons were once more in full phase above me, the Creator above guiding me to my destiny. The heavens beckoned.

'Ah... I see...' I mumbled sadly, 'This is how it ends, then. This is where I die.'

To be continued.

Afterword

I would like to apologize if this story ruined your day, but like I said earlier it was going to be a bit of a wet blanket while I deal with a very difficult situation concerning my life. I had planned on releasing The Taking of Queen Astana and Clara Constance as illustrated stories, but this tragedy in my life happened and now I'm left here trying to manage my emotions through this work of mine. It's been a difficult two months since I first started typing this story and illustrating our protagonist but the journey was very rewarding in its own way and progressed much since I first started.

I'd also like to apologize for the ramshackle appearance of some of my works as I didn't want to linger too long over each one and, well, my skills in illustrating aren't where I'd like them to be yet but I promise I am always doing my best each and every time.

The next story I publish will either be one of the two stories I mentioned above, or a direct sequel to this one.

As always, I would like to thank you for taking the time to read this story of mine. I directed a lot of effort and energies to this story, pouring my heart and soul into the character and the illustrations that come with it, so I hope it is at least something to help your day along during these difficult times.