Secrets in the Void

*~*

She awoke to the silent world around her, rays of the sun barely peeking through the thick willow vines.  The wind no longer blew; the water no longer made noise; the crickets all asleep in their halls of solitude.  Everything was as it had been for hundreds of years, yet something was wrong.

Ilia stood from the patch of grass on which she slept and looked all around her, carefully, searching for the person who shared in her solitude the night prior.  But he was nowhere to be found.

“So, the Dark King attacked my mind as I slept,” she thought aloud bitterly.  “What a way of cowardice he continues to follow.”

Yet as she continued to walk the area protected by the willow she realised that her mind did not feel void; did not feel empty or assaulted.  Could it be he spared me? she thought.  But it was our bargain.  Why would he not see my part fulfilled?

These questions plagued her thoughts for the remainder of the day, casting confusion around her as she sought to answer them; the puzzle that Taratan had left was her top priority now: to solve and understand.  But it was impossible.  She gave up trying to understand his reasons and made the decision to wait until that night when she would see him again; then, she would ask.

*~*

Night fell upon this part of the planet, the birds found their nests, the day animals found their caves, and the world of Night came to life.  Ilia caused the sky to come awake with a new kind of light, hurrying to her haven under the willow’s branches as soon as the owls began to sing.  She looked around only briefly before sitting at the water’s edge, dipping her bare feet into its cool depths.

“Enjoying yourself?”  A silky voice uttered from behind her.

She turned and stood simultaneously, causing the voice’s owner to move back in defense.  “You’re late.”

“I was delayed by some of your night friends,” he replied.  “Though I did have a chance to see your lovely display once more.”

“Where were you last night?”  She asked hesitantly.

“I was here under the branches of the willow,” he stated.  “Have your many years of being in nature really dulled your memory that much?”

“You know what I mean!  You were supposed to take from my mind what you wanted.”  She added in softer tones, “Why didn’t you?”

He took a step towards her, slowly, testing her reaction.  “It was not time.  You were not ready.”  Taratan moved to her side, circling her with deathly slow pace.  “I do not enjoy ripping memories from one’s mind until they have the stamina to support the loss and pain.”

Ilia shuddered at their close proximity, feeling his breath on her skin.  “When, then?”  She whispered.  “When will you accept my part of our bargain?  How much longer must I wait?”

Taratan laughed coming to stand before her again.  “Eager are we?  Perhaps after a night of terror you will not be so willing.”  He snapped his fingers and Nightmares appeared everywhere, charging Ilia.

She stood her ground, allowing the dark horses to run into her, knock her to the ground, stomp upon her; after all, they only brought her memories to life and could do no bodily harm.  She neither cried out nor wept as they continued to throw her up in the air and kick her to the ground.  Her vision was clear, though her mind afire with dark thoughts and fears.

“Leave!”  Taratan’s voice entered her ears.  He pulled her with unseen force up to stand before him.  “I think that should have taught you a lesson about patience.”

Ilia only stared straight ahead, not focusing on his words.  She felt him step closer, felt him pull her to his body, felt him place his hand on her cheek, felt him turn her face to look at him.  And she blinked; staring now into golden orbs, allowing herself to be drawn to them, engrossed in them; welcoming their entrancing colour and sparks to cast a spell of immobility on her body.  Then, she felt the pain.

As lightning strikes a tree, splitting it in two, so Ilia felt the barrier around her mind react to Taratan’s interference.  She grabbed onto his shirt as she felt her knees give way, desperate not to allow her physical body to fall as her mental body bent to his will.  Images, known and unknown, danced before her mind’s eye, being absorbed by the intruder waiting there.  Tears, hot and salty, fell down her cheeks as memories from centuries before were reborn, thoughts reawaken that would have caused her to lose favour in many eyes.  The grip around her waist grew stronger with every passing minute, crushing her body to her captor’s.  Finally she opened her mouth to scream as the pain overtook her body and mind, but warm flesh was placed over it.

Taratan pulled back from her mind, his hand covering her open mouth to stop any noise from escaping.  He held her at arm’s length and stared into her now darkened eyes.  “This is what you asked for,” he stated plainly, releasing his hold on her.

She fell to the ground and wept, her face now stained with old and new tears.

“I will return again tomorrow.”  And he vanished, Nightmares and all.

Ilia lay on the ground sobbing quietly.  No comfort was given her as she felt perhaps the most secret part of her being was violated, the pain dancing across her body allowing no relief for the entirety of the night.

*~*

For months Taratan visited Ilia in the forest under the branches of the old willow.  He would plunge into her mind and take information he needed, leaving only when he thought acceptable.

After he left, Ilia would curl on the ground weeping silently.  But as time went on and his visits became more frequent, she soon grew accustomed to her mind being violated, mainly because he had not yet the power to penetrate the most secret part of her mind.

The sixth month of their meetings came and things went on as usual: Ilia would wake from her slumber and tend the forest and animals around the world; then setting into place the night sky when it came that time.  However, tonight was different; as Ilia walked back to the old willow tree, she was greeted by none other than Taratan himself.

“Surely I am not late?”  She said, wondering at his sudden appearance.

He chuckled, allowing her to enter before he spoke.  “Not at all.  I am simply early.”  Taratan saw the confusion in her eyes and smiled.  “I wanted to change things tonight.”

“Change?”  She asked as they walked to the willow’s trunk.

He nodded, pulling her to him as he did every night.  “You shall see,” then he placed his lips on her cheek, catching her by surprise.

Ilia tried to move back from him, but felt the trunk against her back, trapping her.  She glared as Taratan removed his lips from her skin.  “Taratan let me go.  This isn’t part of the bargain.”  Her attempts to break free from him were in vain.

“No it’s not,” he whispered, “it’s better.”  He kissed her earlobe and felt her shudder.  Taratan continued to kiss her jaw and her temple and her cheeks and nose, until he gently placed them on the softness of her own pink lips.

Ilia’s eyes grew wide as she felt his lips make contact with hers and she felt energy course through her body at alarming speed.  In order to stable her mind she closed her eyes, trying to focus on keeping the barriers in place.

Taratan smiled in the kiss and broke it long enough to fill his lungs with air.  Then replacing them again he deepened the kiss, pulling Ilia’s now calm body against his.  He placed his free hand to her neck to angle it in the way which provided him the most access to her mouth, his cold fingers grazing the warm flesh there.

She gasped and allowed Taratan entrance to her mouth, but more importantly her mind; something that caused her to cling to him in order not to collapse.

Taratan gazed into her open mind, drinking in the secrets it held.  He had been there only a minute when he thought he had enough information; but then he saw it.  A girl on twenty-one, body jut fully bloomed in womanhood, was walking lethargically through a newly alive forest.  She held in her hand a lily, the symbol of new life, as she glided through the earthy environment.  A few seconds later another figure came into view; a taller person with black hair, following the woman.  She led him, unknowingly, to her favourite spot in the forest, a little crevice cut out of a small mountain, a cave-like shelter from the elements.  The woman entered and, when the man followed, turned with a large smile gracing her lips.  Her face was hidden from view by the neck of the man, and even when he enveloped her in a hug, she buried it in his chest.  Only when he tilted her face up and kissed her lips did their faces show: Taratan and ILia.

The Nightmare King broke his embrace with the woman, though still holding her body to his.  Breath heavy and laboured, pulse beating up a storm, body shaking with fear; he turned his eyes to hers, searching their depths frantically.  “Your greatest, most secret memory,” he whispered brokenly, “is me?”

She inhaled and exhaled deeply, taking several minutes to replace the lost oxygen into her hungry lungs.  “Our greatest memory, Taratan.  Before I was banished, before we were placed here in this Void of forgotten memories-”

“We were in love,” he finished, eyes glistening.  “And you have kept that memory.  No one remembers anything from their past; how can you?  How do you remember who you-we-were?”

Casting her eyes to the side she spoke softly.  “The gods have allowed each of the prisoners to remember one thing about their lives prior to coming here.  But for you and me… We were before the gods, before they were appointed Keeper of the Void.  Because of this they allowed us to retain memories, but only those we held dear.”  She looked back to Taratan.  “I held on solely to that one memory: our last night together.”

Taratan searched his mind, desperate to find his one memory, the one he held most dear, but he could not.  “Why can I not find mine?  The one memory?!”

Ilia sighed and closed her eyes, a few tears escaping from under her lids.  “You gave them up, Taratan.  When you became the Dark Lord you wished to know Fear and were granted that wish.  Fear came in and pushed everything else out, including the memory.  It was only until you saw my flower blooming that pieces, fractured and few, of that memory started to return.”

“Why then did you fear I would take from you your love,” he said, “when you had given freely it to me hundreds of years before?”

“I saw what Fear did to you and knew that, without something happening to one of us, you could never gain my love as you did all that time ago.”

Silence filled the air, no sound made its way into the solitude of the willow’s shade.  The two persons stood, bodies still close, but each staring off to the side, lost in their own thoughts.  As if a lightning bolt had come from the heavens and broken through the thick veil produced by the willow’s vines, Taratan suddenly gasped and pulled Ilia to him.

“I remember!”  He cried.  “We had just come back from Monaer on a long trip touring the ruins and had returned to Putzladen.  I had told you to meet me in the forest after one in the afternoon because I had great news.  You told me you had news as well and agreed to meet me then.”  His face held joy unknown in it, almost too much to contain.  “I entered the woods half an hour after you had and caught up with you, following quietly until the opportune moment.  When you entered your secret place I caught you by surprise and we spent nearly an hour sitting and talking.  Around two in the afternoon we started to head out of the forest when I stopped and turned you to face me, my hands on your shoulders.”

“Do you remember what you said?”  Ilia asked, tears brimming at her eyes.

“I said that I loved you unconditionally and would do everything humanly possible to take care of you,” he replied.  “I told you that I had been promoted by the King to Lord of the Seas and you were to be Lady of the Hills, to which you smiled brightly.  You exclaimed your pleasure at hearing this news and put your hand to my cheek, your left hand.”  He blinked, trying to remember every detail.  “You began to tell me something important.  Something like, ‘I know we will be happy and content.’  And you started to say something else, but-”

She placed her hand on her stomach and gazed into his eyes.  “All of us.”

Taratan stared into her eyes for a moment and then at her hand on her stomach and back to her eyes.  Seeing the light there he began to weep.  “We were mar- We are married and with a child?”  As she nodded he wept freely and held her to his body, his tears falling into her earthen hair.  “A child?  We have a child.”

“Yes.  Yes, dear Taratan.  A child with my eyes and smile and your hair.  A child that cannot be born to us, but to one we hold dear and love as our own.  A child destined for greatness and destruction, but abounding in love and loyalty.”  She whispered in his ear, “Our secret child.”

Author's Note

Thoughts? Concerns? Questions?