Rayek lay drifting in the blackness of the plane,
lost and drained. He could not longer tell how long he had lain there.
He could longer tell whether he lived or not. He no longer cared. He was
too weary to care.
“Rayek,” he heard Winnowill’s voice, altered now.
“Give up. There’s nothing to gain by this stubbornness.” She sounded so
different. Wearied, tired of their fighting, their endless battles. He
could almost believe she was truly weary of their war. He could almost
forget the brutality of her latest onslaught.
He felt a touch on his shoulder, and she slowly
helped him to sit up. He was floating, far less grounded in any form of
dimension or reality. It was “going out” on a disturbingly liberating level.
It would not be long now, he knew with a sickening dread.
“You have no idea the freedom of it,” Winnowill
spoke, her voice surprisingly soft, wistful.
“You could have escaped when you stole my body from
me...” Rayek protested weakly. He struggled against a lightheaded delirium.
A weariness heralding a deep sleep. A sleep he was not yet ready to take.
“I could have...” Winnowill allowed. “I admit physical
pleasures can be so addictive. I can see why you cling to it so stubbornly.
But... you’ll understand in time. You’ll adapt.” She released the
band securing his long tail of hair, gently brushing the strands. “It’s
nearly time. Not even you can fight it.”
“So this is the end of our time together?” he asked
weakly.
“Don’t you trust me, Rayek, when I say we’ll be
free to play our games forever? How can you claim to love where there is
no trust?” she asked.
“I would love to trust you, Winnowill...” he murmured.
“To believe in you...”
“Well... you’ll be dead in moments... then nothing
will matter anymore. You’ll understand then.”
He raised his eyes to meet hers. **I’m... afraid...**
the sending slipped out against his will. The darkness enveloping him robbed
him of his last shields, his last defenses. His fears, his miseries, all
laid bare before the Black Snake. For a moment Winnowill almost seemed
sympathetic, for a moment he thought he saw a flicker of pity in her eyes.
Then she smiled bitterly. “Good,” she pronounced, sweeping away, the trailing
edge of her gown fading into the blackness.
“Winnowill...”
The darkness was growing, even as it seemed
clearer, as perceptions heightened and restrictions fell away. He was drifting,
further and further from the confinement of his mortality. In moments he
would exist as a true immortal, as pure spirit. If the Black Snake didn’t
destroy him within an instant of escaping her shell.
He reached out, struggling to find Winnowill’s soul;
it seemed so distant already. She was leaving, slipping away as the last
confines of her cell fell away. She would be free, and he would be lost.
He reached for her, trying to brush her soul one last time before they
were parted forever. “Winnowill...” he implored weakly as the last of his
strength gave out. There was nothing left to fight for now.
Suddenly she was there, embracing him, holding him
close. Rayek hugged her back, held her fiercely as he felt the darkness
envelop him completely. If she was to leave him in another moment when
her prison dissolved, he would at last have one final moment. This surely
was death, he thought, for it was a heartbreaking agony, as he felt himself
slip away from the last confines of his former reality. The world around
him spun, and it was all he could do to cling fast to Winnowill’s soul,
unwilling to release her. It was not the death that so terrified him, not
even the fear of what Winnowill would do once released chilled him. It
was the loneliness he foresaw, the heartbreak, the unbearable misery that
had felled him when Winnowill had died, that had eaten away at him whenever
she would retreat from him, disgusted by his enduring love for her. And
in a moment she would be gone forever, and their separation alone would
be enough to break his soul as all her “games” had never managed to do.
But Winnowill was not leaving, she was not drifting
away. She remained, her arms about him, her spirit surrounding him. The
ever-present malignancy of her aura was diminished as her guard was down,
as she lingered in the darkness with her lovemate one moment longer, suddenly
reluctant to seek her freedom.
The strangest feeling of peace enveloped them both
in the last heartbeats. Neither moved, nor spoke, nor even dared to think
for the unexpected truce that had formed between them. The darkness brought
with it a blessed silence, and with it a soft resolution neither of them
had anticipated. No stunning magic, no final battle, no revelation of sending,
only a gentle peace and a quiet understanding in their silent farewell
as the darkness swallowed the joined souls.
The last light, the last flickering door back to
his body faltered once, then disappeared. All sense of direction and dimension
blurred, and Rayek felt himself floating away from his lovemate, disappearing
into the fathomless void. “Winnowill...” he held her hands in his as their
souls slowly, unwillingly, drifted apart.
Winnowill resolutely rose, seeking her freedom.
He followed her, drifting upwards into the spiraling
shadows. There was nothing else for him to do.
Now Winnowill smiled, the same smile he had seen
on her lips when she beheld the Palace, heartbreaking in its pure vulnerable
joy. She closed her eyes, savoring the sensation washing over her. Her
freedom, at last, only a moment away. The world, and all its treasures,
awaited her. “Freedom...” she breathed. “Our curses’ end...”
Rayek felt her rise faster than he could follow; he was lagging behind,
faltering in the darkness. Winnowill peered down at him, a quizzical expression
on her face, as is puzzled by an unwanted follower, or merely confused
by his hesitation
Their eyes met, one final time.
“Whatever you do, whatever you find out there, know
I will always love you,” he whispered through the darkness. “Nothing can
ever change that.”
Winnowill stared at him mutely a long moment. Then
her brows knitted in rising resentment and her lips curled back in a growing
snarl. “Curse you, Rayek,” she breathed.
“Winnowill?”
“Curse you,” she hissed, tearing her hands free
from his. She clasped his shoulders, her fingers clenched tight over his
skin as a sudden wave of pain hit him. More painful than he could ever
recall, it drove him down into the darkness. The black shadows gave way
to a blinding light, and he could not endure the sudden onslaught. His
eyes fell closed and he sought relief in a deep oblivion as the sum total
of all the Black Snake’s magic flooded through his soul.
* * *
“Brownskin!” Ekuar cried out in sudden awe and delight.
“Rayek!” Jesla shrieked, leaping back a pace, feeling
as if her heart would explode through her chest.
Rayek sat bolt upright in bed; his eyes snapped out, staring ahead
blankly. For a moment they glowed a brilliant luminous gold, so bright
that Jesla signed herself and prayed to Threksh’t to save them from a demon.
But after a moment his eyes returned to their normal amber hue and his
body crumpled back to the bed.
“Brownskin? Rayek?” Ekuar limped to his side, peering
down at his heart-son. Rayek moaned weakly, his eyes flickering open a
moment, then sliding closed. Ekuar paused, then lifting one of the dressing
on Rayek’s ribs. What had once been a dark mottled bruise and battered
cut from repeated kicks from mining boots was now little more than a fading
yellowish bruise. The abrasions and discoloration from his broken ribs
were gone, blending back into a healthy copper skin. The gash at his forehead
was swiftly closing itself, skin sealing up the wound.
Rayek’s body jerked once more in a sudden spasm,
and a brilliant glow surrounded the elf, driving back the rockshaper and
the elderly human healer. Then Rayek lay still on the bed, collapsing with
a long ragged sigh.
“Threksh’t preserve us,” Jesla whispered, edging
closer to her patient. She saw the healed injuries and the fading bruises
and frowned, uncomprehending. Her fingers found the part in his hair that
exposed the deep laceration and possible fracture brought on by the blows
from the club. It was fading away, the blood-swollen skin smoothing out,
leaving nothing more than a thin scar. “What did this?” she murmured, moving
her hand to his throat. She wept with relief as she felt a strong and steady
pulse. She need not have bothered to check; she could tell by his soft
but regular breaths that he suffered from nothing greater than exhaustion.
“We should... let him sleep... now...” she stammered,
her tired old mind still battling to comprehend what had happened.
Ekuar nodded, watching Rayek’s face intently. His
heart-son had sworn he would never sleep again, so much did the Snake torment
him. But Ekuar decided by his brownskin’s peaceful expression, that he
could risk the rest.
**Rayek?** he attempted a gentle sending.
**Ekuar...** the reply was faltering, uncertain.
**Am I alive or dead? I... cannot tell anymore...**
**You live, dear one,** Ekuar felt a tear rise to
his eye. **Sleep now. You need the rest.**
**Mmm...I think I will....** his sending slowly
ebbed as he stirred slightly, falling into a deeper slumber. Ekuar gently
pulled the blanket up to cover the sleeping elf, then sat back on his chair,
waiting patiently for Rayek to awaken.
“Are you certain you want to do this, brownskin.
The lady might not... take kindly to it.”
“I must talk to her, Ekuar,” Rayek lay back on the
bed. “It’s been over a day; I can barely sense her. I need to know what
happened.”
Ekuar merely nodded his assent, offering no further
words against the idea. Rayek would do what he must; there was little that
could convince him otherwise when he set his heart to something.
Rayek closed his eyes, letting go of the present
time and place, seeking Winnowill’s soul in the darkness of the plane between
existences. For a magic-user of his skill it took only a moment. When he
opened his eyes again he was floating in the darkness, searching for his
lovemate, somewhere deep within his own soul.
“Winnowill!” he called. The name echoed in the void,
and he heard no answer. He concentrated, searching for her presence, imagining
the barriers and shields she had erected to hide him away, the black sendings
she had in store for the intruder.
He searched for her, and found her in an amazingly
short span of time. She was not hiding away, or rallying an arsenal of
psychic weapons, as he had imagined. Instead she lay in shadow, her long
mane obscuring her face, her robes in disarray.
“Winnowill?” Concern and compassion overwhelmed
his suspicion and wariness. He knelt next to her, brushing her hair from
her face. He saw then that any suspicion was unfounded. She was near exhaustion,
her eyes clouded with exertion, her face weary and wan. “What did you do...?”
he breathed, cradling her in his arms, helping her to rise. She stared
at him but seemed not to see him for a moment before she weakly scowled
at him.
“Curse you, you insufferable whelp. How dare you...
come here...? I hope you’re satisfied...”
“You healed me,” he marveled. “You healed me, and
it nearly took all your strength.”
“Do you... have any conception of the strength it
takes to throw a soul back into a body... already cooling in death?” she
murmured. “No... you don’t, wretch.”
“Why?”
“A moment of weakness...” she spat out the words.
“A moment of...vulnerability!” she sneered. “A moment I deeply regret.
A moment’s hesitation... what was I to do with your soul chasing me? What
would you do to me, once... we were equals in spirit? How would the...
balance between us shift... how differently would our games play... out?
A moment’s...” she coughed weakly. “Fear,” she hissed.
“Fear?” Rayek asked, gently stroking night-black
locks away from her face. “Whose fear? Yours or mine?”
“Do you think... I care for your precious fear?”
she sneered. “Do you think I care for –you–?”
“I didn’t... not before,” he replied softly.
Winnowill murmured something indecipherable, and
closed her eyes. She sagged limply against his shoulder a moment, then
leaned away, seeking to drift away into the gloom. Rayek drew her back,
gently but firmly. Winnowill struggled in a token protest, but she was
too weary to fight for long. She reeled a moment, her eyes struggling to
reopen, then exhaled a soft sigh and let him gather up in his arms once
again.
Rayek stared down at her in disbelief. Was this
the same Winnowill who only a day before and attacked his soul even as
his body lay on the brink of death? Was this the same Winnowill who had
tormented him without rest for four centuries? Now she lay defeated and
exhausted, helpless as a kitten.
He smiled softly, continuing to lightly stroke her
hair. Winnowill was too weak to protest his touch... or perhaps it was
not that at all.
“You relinquished your freedom... for me.”
“I merely postponed it,” Winnowill vowed.
“I thought your freedom meant everything to you...”
“Obviously you were mistaken,” she hissed tersely.
His smile grew slightly. “There is some love in
you, after all...” he whispered.
“Don’t delude yourself. I... want nothing now but
to rest... and then... rise and torment you anew...”
“Of course you will,” he murmured against her hair.
“Take your sleep while you can,” Winnowill told
him, her voice frail with exhaustion. “I intend this truce to be a brief
one,” she murmured, slipping her arms about his waist, settling against
him.
Rayek nodded, still holding her tenderly.
“There will be another game for us to play when
I am myself again, my soul’s mate,” she warned him, her voice fading as
she drifted off into a spirit-sleep. “And many more besides.”
Rayek kissed her softly on the forehead. “I would
not miss it for anything, beloved.”