Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

 

 

 

                Risten decided to let Felicity go in first, after all, she was Sebastian’s fiancée.  The doctor, Melody, had agreed that the both of them could visit Sebastian briefly, at separate times.  To calm herself, Risten sat outside, on the steps.  It was a very windy day, and clouds covered the sun that had just risen.  Leaves flew about, tangled in the wind.

 

                It was all too much.  How was she supposed to feel?  She was desperately worried about Sebastian, and was dying to know if Clemenstra had been the one who poisoned him.  No.  Of course she did it.  It all made too much sense.  The witch wants to take over the throne of Ancantha for her own purposes.  With Sebastian out of the way, she would only have Risten to deal with.

 

                Hmph.  Only?  I’ll be more than she bargained for.  Thought Risten to herself; she was sitting with her knees pulled up to her chin.  The thought inflamed in her heart.  She would kill Clemenstra.  And what about Derek?  She knew that something was wrong, but she hadn’t the slightest idea what.  She did know that it had to do with his scar.  And whatever it was, it was getting worse.

 

                The way he said I love you, Risten…so much… echoed in her mind.  He said that as if it was the last time he would ever say those words.  She couldn’t bear to think that was true.

 

                Then she thought of pure bliss.  The sensations she got from touching him, kissing him, just standing beside him.  She had slept without him last night.  She hadn’t slept well at all, it felt all too strange to not have him there.  She wondered where he was now, and why he hadn’t returned during the night.  She was worried.  She missed him.

 

                Where are you, Derek?  She said, loose strands of hair flying in front of her eyes.  She pushed them away.  Tears were in their place.

 

                Right behind you.  Came his gentle voice.  Risten shot up and turned, nearly falling into his arms.

 

                “Derek!”  she cried, as he embraced her.

 

                “Good morning, Rose.”  he said.  His voice was tired, and Risten noticed this right away.

 

                “What’s wrong, Derek?  Please tell me.”  she said against his chest.  When he didn’t answer, she backed away and looked up at him.  “You look awful!  What happened?”

 

                Derek didn’t have the energy to lie.  “I ran into Brennan last night.  Not particularly pleasant.”  he said.

 

                “What happened?  Are you hurt?”  she instinctively felt at his body.

 

                “An arrow, nothing serious.  I put medicine on it.”

 

                “Where?”

 

                “My left shoulder.”

                Risten took a deep breath.  She couldn’t wait to meet this Brennan.  There were so many unpleasant things that she wanted to do to him.  She hastily shoved these malicious thoughts aside.

 

                “Come on in,”  she said, jerking her chin towards the castle, “I want you to see my room.”

 

~*~

 

As they made their way through the castle, Risten explained what had happened the previous day.  Meeting the future queen; Jasper; and Basque (Derek had to laugh at that part).

 

                She led him up the stairs and into a large room on the third floor.  It had a gorgeous queen-sized bed with many pillows, cherry wood posts, and a white silk canopy.  The walls were a romantic burgundy color, and the curtains that hung over the tall windows were layers of gold and white.  The other furniture in the room, including a vanity, wardrobe, writing desk, bookshelf, and trunk were also cherry-wood, carved in elvish style.  A luxurious gold rug was laid out on the floor, and Renaissance-style paintings hung on the walls.  An ebony piano sat majestically in a corner of the room.  Derek looked up; the ceiling was painted like that of the café Amatheia.

 

                “Wow, this is great.”  he said, impressed.  “Look at that bed.”  He walked over to it and ran his hands over the plush comforter.  He turned to Risten, who was still standing in the doorway.  He glared seductively at her.  “Come, my lady, will you lie with me?”

 

                Risten grinned.  “Maybe later.”  she entered and locked the door behind her.  “I want to have a look at that shoulder.”  Derek looked hesitant, but he pulled off his shirt.  Risten studied his shoulder while biting her lip. 

 

                “Wait, you have another wound…right there on your lower back.”  she said after a moment.  She touched the scab with her finger, and Derek winced.

 

                “Yeah, Brennan did that.”  he said.

 

                “Isn’t Brennan responsible for your shoulder, too?”

 

                “No.”  said Derek, staring at the lamp on the bedside table.  “Arias.”

 

                “Oh…”  she said, sounding disappointed.  “Well, it looks like you’ll heal fine.  You can put your shirt back on now.”  She walked away, towards the seat at the bay window.

 

                Derek looked after her.  Risten…what troubles you so?

 

                What do you mean?  Am I supposed to not be troubled?  She snapped.  What is troubling you so?  But she paused there, noticing Derek’s sincerely concerned expression.  Considering everything wrong in my life right now…

 

                Oh?  Have you tried considering everything good in your life?  He said, with a weak smile.

 

                Risten took a deep breath and turned away.  I don’t know.  Lately I’ve been feeling this intense sensation of foreboding…something evil blows through the trees.  Can’t you feel it too?

                Yes, I have.  For many years, in fact; even before I met you.  His mind seemed to wander on those words.  He stared out the window; they had a perfect view of the great tree.

 

                Risten turned her head back in his direction.  Even before you met me.  Maybe I’m the evil…

 

                No, Risten.  Derek slipped off the bed and came to her, and held her face in both of his hands.  You’re not.

 

                You don’t know that.  She rested her forehead against his lips.  My grandfather once told me; even the wisest cannot possibly know everything.

 

                Derek was silent for a moment.  Risten relished in the feel of his hands under her shirt, caressing her spine with his fingertips.

 

                Risten, look at me.  Please.  He said suddenly.  She hesitated, but he lifted her chin with a finger.  His intense blue eyes studied her, searched her, longed for her.  What I do know is that I love you.  And even if you were the ‘evil’, that’s something that would never change.  Remember our promise…

I remember, and I trust you completely.  She paused, and then a thought reoccurred in her mind. 

 

Derek, do you think that Clemenstra wants the throne?

 

                Perhaps.  Was his quick answer.  It was almost as if he had expected her to say that.  It’s definitely a possibility.  Derek stared at the great tree.  That would explain why she’s after you as well…

 

                So she is after me?

 

                He nodded.  Yes, Brennan said so.  Be not afraid, my love; you are strong.  You will not falter.  You have great courage; I believe in you.

 

                Thank you, Derek.  You make me feel so much better.  Even in her mind, there was a slight hint of sarcasm.  She expected Derek to laugh, but he didn’t, which made her feel uneasy.

 

                The road may be difficult, but there is happiness at the end for those who believe in it.  Or so the Ancanthian proverb says.  Was all he could manage to say.  He didn’t sound like he was trying to encourage her at all; his voice was dull and heavy.

 

                Believe in what?  The difficult road?  Or happiness?  Whoever wrote that has poor grammar skills.  She rolled her eyes.  And those old sayings always sound so cliché, anyway.

 

                Derek just smiled fondly, closed his eyes, and sighed.

 

~*~

 

“I must speak with Lady Clemenstra.”

 

                “Who are you?  How did you get here?”

 

                “I walked, of course.  Don’t be an idiot.”  She was staring at him with such intensity that made him feel slightly uncomfortable.

 

                “I beg your pardon.”  he said, although he didn’t sound very apologetic at all. 

 

                “Let me in.  Don’t make me fight you.”

 

                “My apologies, but Lady Clemenstra doesn’t take random appointments.  Why do wish to speak to her, might I ask?”

 

                Halie and Arias’ eyes narrowed on each other’s.  Halie tossed her head sideways with a snort.  “I’m an old friend.” she said, cockily.

 

                “Really.  Somehow I doubt that Lady Clemenstra has old friends.”  said Arias.  What did he really mean by that?  His face wouldn’t tell.  Halie’s patience was at its end.  She grabbed the front of his cloak.

 

                “Now you see here, I am a lightning-bearer.  You want trouble?”  she hissed, standing on her toes in attempt to reach Arias’ height.  Her being in such close proximity made him blush.

 

                “None, I assure you.”  he said, almost nervously.

 

                “Then allow me entrance.”

 

                “I could ask my lady�"“  but before he could finish, Halie threw him aside with unimaginable strength.  Arias landed on his feet without even the use of his arms for balance (which were, like the rest of his body, still hiding under his cloak), and slid backwards, his boots leaving trails in the dirt.  He glared at Halie with his fierce yellow eyes, but she just winked at him and headed down the grass-covered steps into Clemenstra’s underground hideout.  Arias raised his hand, and a barrier of swirling pinkish light manifested in front of Halie.

 

                “What the--?”

 

                “Don’t touch it.  It will hurt.”  said Arias, walking in her direction.  “I don’t wish for a pointless fight.”

 

                “Neither do I.”  she said, staring at the ground.  She seemed near tears.  Arias stood in front of her, so close that she could feel his cloak blowing against her legs.  “I never…wanted any of this…”  Nothing could be seen on her face but sadness now.  It wasn’t simply sadness, but regret.  Arias didn’t understand at all.

 

                He just stared at her.  She looked up, staring back.  She seemed to be searching him, searching deep within his eyes and beyond.  But he could see nothing in hers; nothing but a dull blue reminiscent of a slightly cloudy sky.

 

                Aidan and Kaela emerged from the edge of Rellasmïr, arguing half-jokingly about something that wasn’t anatomically possible.  Aidan, who was in front, looked up and saw Halie and Arias, and he stopped dead in his tracks.  Kaela walked into his back, forcing her to look up from the graphic novel she was reading.  She swore and motioned to hit him, but she lowered her hand when she saw what he did.   Aidan’s eyes went wide behind his glasses, and his lips were parted in disbelief.

 

                “Marayna?”

 

~*~

 

The moment had come.  Risten would finally meet her brother.  She walked down the hallway, each step felt long and heavy, like walking towards your death.  The hall seemed to stretch for miles and miles farther than Risten could ever reach.  Derek walked beside her, clenching her hand, but she paid no attention to him.  She could only think of Sebastian, and Clemenstra, and Brennan...

 

                She was unaware that she had walked with Derek down four hallways, through a door, up a winding tower staircase, and reached another door, behind of which was her brother.  Derek snapped her from her reverie.

 

                “Rose?”  he said.  “I’ll wait out here, okay?”  Risten nodded mindlessly and knocked on the door.

 

                “Come in.”  said a gentle, woman’s voice from behind the door.  Risten grasped the doorknob and took a deep breath.  Her heart was beating too fast.  Why was she so nervous?  She tried to swallow her uneasiness and entered the room.

 

                He was the first thing she noticed.  He was just lying there, shirtless, propped up by many pillows; his smooth, tanned skin glistening with sweat.  He had dark brown hair and thick lashes like Risten, and his face was exactly the same shape, just masculine.  But there were a few characteristics the twins did not share.  He was well muscled for a sixteen-year-old.  While Risten was a less-than-average height, Sebastian looked quite tall.  He seemed better proportioned in her eyes.  His hair also had a reddish shade mixed in with the brown.

 

                Felicity sat beside the bed, holding Sebastian’s left hand, stroking it gently.  Risten wondered why the doctor was allowing two visitors to be in the room at the same time.  She stood on the opposite side of them, and sat on a stool.  He looked so fragile, yet strong at the same time.  He was obviously in pain, but he seemed to bear it well.  Risten was afraid to touch him.

 

                Felicity leaned to Sebastian’s ear.  “My love, your sister is here.  Risten, the one I told you about.”  she whispered, gently stroking his hair from his wet forehead.  His eyes fluttered open.  They were dark and wet, a color lost somewhere between dark brown and black.  He stared at her, his eyes wandering about her, full of curiosity and wonder.  Risten held his other hand gently between his.

 

                “Sebastian…it’s me, your sister, Kristina…”  she said.  Sebastian’s eyes met hers, and both of them must have felt the same feeling.  They knew each other.  They always knew.  Both of them bursting into tears, Risten leaned forward and kissed his cheek, and her head fell, then she was sobbing into his neck.  Sebastian leaned his head against hers, her thick hair absorbing his tears.  Felicity was crying behind him, her tears melting her cosmetics.

 

                He wrapped his arms around her, and she wrapped hers around his sweaty body.  Even though he was tired and weakened by the poison, his arms felt strong and held her tight.  His body was warm and firm against hers.  Thus they remained for a while, pouring years and years of fraternal love into each other’s hearts.

 

                “I love you, Sebastian.”  sobbed Risten, her breath catching in her throat, “You’re gonna be okay.”  Sebastian held her tighter, but could say nothing.  Risten glanced at the doctor, Melody, who had tears in her green eyes.  She tossed her head to shake her curly brown hair from her face.

 

                “Take it easy, Lord Prince.”  she said, not impolitely.  She came and took his arms, gently pulling him from Risten’s embrace.  Risten was too tired to fuss about it.  She sat back in on the stool, and wiped her face with the hem of her shirt.  She couldn’t take her eyes off of her brother.  She wanted to be with him, always.  She never wanted to leave him.

 

                “My ladies, the Prince must rest now.”  said Melody, causing Risten’s heart to sink heavy in her chest.

 

                She wanted to argue.  She wanted to cry and yell like a child who was being taken from her father.  Or a sister being taken from her brother.  But she didn’t.  She squeezed his hand, and kissed him once more on his forehead.

 

                “Love you.”  she whispered, “Get some rest.”  Sebastian looked at her as if simply doing so was an indulgence.  Then he smiled, a sad smile, but still as warm and beautiful as she remembered from her dream.  She tried to smile back, but didn’t know if it was even close to smile.  The moment her hand left his, well, her mind couldn’t even begin to describe the sense of loss.  It felt like losing a limb.  She felt broken, heartless, and incomplete.  Felicity took her by the arm, and the two girls left the room in without another word.

 

                Derek was waiting for them, and he knew everything Risten was feeling just by the look on her face when her eyes met his.  She held her arms out to him, and he embraced her tightly.  Felicity stood aside, her hands folded.  Risten’s sobs broke the silence.

 

                “Don’t cry, Rose, everything will be all right in the end.”  said Derek, gently stroking her back.

 

                “You don’t know that.”  she said, her voice muffled by his shirt.

 

                Derek’s voice cracked, but he responded, “Yes, I do.”

 

~*~

 

Derek decided to take Risten for a walk through the outskirts of Epsilia, to help calm her down.  It was late afternoon now, the sky still cloudy, and the air disturbed.  The great tree blew heavily in the wind.

 

                “Derek, does that tree have a name?”  said Risten, with a sniff.  She hugged herself tightly, and wiped her nose with the collar of her dark purple turtleneck.  She didn’t even sound curious about the question at all; apparently she simply wanted to break the ominous silence between them.

 

                “Yes.”  he answered, looking at her sideways with a slightly anxious expression.  “It’s called Rautarra, after Rautor the Great King.”  Risten lifted her chin as her response.  She was staring at the ground, her brown eyes clouded with withheld tears.  She was concentrating a little too hard.  The toe of her boot snagged on a broken stone in the pavement, and she toppled forward.

 

                Derek caught her, of course, and brought her back to her feet.  He was afraid to say anything, lest she burst into tears.

 

                “Thanks, Derek.”  she said in a broken voice.  She continued to walk, her long white skirt fluttering in the wind like a flag of surrender.

 

                “Rose, do you want to go to the chapel?  Will prayer help you feel better?”  he called to her, staying where he was.  Risten turned to him, her arms still crossed.

 

                “Chapel?  Are you a Christian?”  she asked.  She shouldn’t have been so surprised; Derek did seem to be the type.

 

                “Catholic, actually.”  he said, coming towards her, “That’s another thing brought to Ancantha by the early Otherkind; religion.  Before that, Ancanthians weren’t much better off than barbarians.”

 

                “Wow.  Really?”

 

                Derek thought for a moment.  “Hmm, maybe not quite that bad.  Anyway, most Ancanthians are Catholic or at least some sort of Christian.  Are you?  Religious, I mean?”

 

                “Yes.”  said Risten, her eyes fixed on the ground again.   She hadn’t been to a church in over a month.  She quickly began to feel very unholy.

 

                “The scapular…”  she said out of nowhere, glancing at Derek.  “Do you wear one?”

 

                Derek laughed.  “What’s this, Rose?  Are you trying to test my devotion?  Well, I’d rather not explain, but I can’t wear it.  It has to do with my scar; can we just leave it at that?”  Risten nodded absentmindedly.  They had reached the chapel and she looked up to soak it in.

 

                It was a fairly large building, resting under the glory of Rautarra.  The great tree casted shades of gray upon the chapel that didn’t make it look gloomy at all, but rather, the shadows somewhat magnified its divine beauty.  The structure itself was angular and covered in polished stones like that of the archway at the entrance of Epsilia.  The slanted rooftops were covered in thousands of cherry-wood shingles.  A cross stood on the highest point of the chapel; atop the bell tower on the eastern side.

 

                Risten felt guilty.  She had forgotten all about God and Jesus and Mass since her coming to Ancantha.  Sins rising to surface formed into a knot in her heart.  She felt as if anything else complicated was added into her life now, she would explode.  Literally.

 

                She felt her cheeks flush, but she had to ask.  “Derek, there are confessions, right?”  He looked at her.  He didn’t smile, but there was slight amusement in his bright eyes.

 

                “Yes, of course.  I think Father Martel is hearing them today.  He’s an amazing priest, Risten.  When I came to Epsilia at thirteen, although I tried to hide it, Father could tell that inside I was very emotionally distraught.  Of course, he was right.  I was a mess back then.”

 

                “You had every reason to be so.”  interrupted Risten, keenly aware of her own current state of affairs.

 

                “Yeah, I guess.  But all the counseling and guidance he provided for me was indispensible.  I wouldn’t be what I am now without him.”  He paused with a thoughtful look,  “Tell me, Risten, could you describe me in one word?”

 

                Risten actually smiled.  “Hmm…”

 

                “My personality.”  said Derek, seeing the playfulness on her face.  He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

 

                “Peaceful.”  said Risten.

 

                “Just as I thought you would say.”  he said, smiling, “Well, when I first came to Epsilia, ‘peaceful’ would have been an antonym for me.  Believe me, Rose; you wouldn’t have liked me at all.  I was a difficult child, trying to suppress my trauma…”

 

                Difficult.  Derek?  Risten went silent.  It was hard to think of Derek as loud, angry, aggressive, impatient, irritable, or any other word she could imagine as an antonym for peaceful.  He seemed to her the very definition of the word.

 

                “Well,”  she said after a moment,  “I suppose it is an unusual trait for a boy…Father Martel must be a wonderful person.”

 

                Derek nodded.  “You want to go in now?  Mass starts in ten minutes.”

 

                “Yeah.”  she watched as Derek walked up the steps and opened the door for her.

 

                She glanced far up at the cross before she entered, and all of her strife seemed to disappear for that one transient moment.

Author's Note

This is the last of my update for today! Let me know what you think! (: