Realm of the Lost God (CH22)

“So.” Belle said.

“So.” Kate repeated after her.

The two were standing at the fork where the road branched away from the estate. One wound in the direction of the forest to the east, while the other went down toward the grassy lowlands, disappearing beyond the rolling hills where hazy, white clouds drifted endlessly.

 “If you don’t have anything to say, I’ll be going.” Belle said.

Kate sighed. “Are you sure you want to leave like this?”

“Like you did?”

Kate had no retort. Belle had told her before sneaking away, unlike what she’d done years ago. “You wouldn’t rather use a faster method?”

Belle shook her head. “I’ve been stuck here for ages. I want to see the world. If that slows me down, so be it.”

“You’re heading to the Spring Courts on foot?”

“I’ll run into a helpful stranger, I’m sure.” Belle said, brushing a strand of chestnut hair out of her face. She looked to fields, where the tall, green grasses waved in the breeze.

Kate wanted to remark that it was dangerous, but again, what right did she have to say that? Hadn’t her own escapades been far more rash? “How long will you be gone?”

“I don’t know. If I arrive and find the Spring Courts not to my liking, I won’t stay long. But if I do…”

“Then what?” Kate asked with slight teasing. “You won’t return? You’ll wander the fields naked with a garland of flowers in your hair, like Licia?”

Belle didn’t reply. And Kate’s amusement bled away. “You’re coming back, right?” She asked. A hint of pleading crept into her tone. Licia already didn’t want to see her. If Belle felt the same way, and disappeared for good, she didn’t know what she’d do. Nothing would remain of the life she’d once had.

Belle turned to face her, clutching a single travelsack. She’d trimmed her luggage to the bare necessities. “Missing me already?” She asked, taking a step backwards. Her lips quirked into a smile.

“Yes.” Kate said with complete seriousness.

“Good.” Belle replied. She peered at Kate from under her long eyelashes. “I hope you miss me even more when I’m gone. You should know how it feels.”

“I’ll wait for you here.” Kate said after a moment’s silence. “And if you or Licia ever need help, write to me. I’ll-… definitely read your letters this time.”

Belle laughed. Then a strange quiet settled over the conversation, full of things left unspoken.

“I’ll walk with you some of the way.” Kate said, her mouth dry.

“It’s alright.” Belle said, giving her head a shake. “See you, Katherine.” Her gaze lingered on Kate for a moment. Then she turned and took a step.

The sound of crunching gravel marked her departure, unbearably loud to Kate’s ears. Her hand hovered in the air, wanting to say something, but unable to. The further away Belle got, the heavier the feeling in her chest.

Belle never looked back, and Kate never looked away. Not even when her sister grew smaller and smaller, eventually disappearing beyond the sloping hills.

A long while later, Kate raised her head, staring up at the blue sky. She blinked a few times, wiping her face with the back of her hand. She felt the warmth of the sun on her face. She stood there, watching the sun make its journey across the sky, until it turned into a watery, orange orb.

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That evening, Kate found herself paging listlessly through a book in the library. It was some trashy romance novel, the type Licia had always enjoyed, and Belle had pretended not to. She had picked it up as a means to distract herself, but it had the opposite effect.

After rereading the same page twice, and realizing she still had no clue what its contents was, she set it down on a side-table. Her head lolled backward, resting against her lounge-chair’s stuffed headrest.

“I thought you would be here.”

She recognized Thalion’s voice. He usually finished his work around this hour.

He walked in a slow circle until he stood next to her, staring at the book’s empty cover. “I think I remember that one.”

His words jolted Kate from her haze. She gave him an odd look. “Really?”

He nodded. “I frequently saw Morrigan with it, though I admit I don’t know what it’s about.”

Kate blinked. Morrigan read that book? She couldn’t picture it, no matter how hard she tried.

Tarion moved to pick it up, but Kate intercepted him, laying her hand on the cover. “I don’t think you’d enjoy it. In fact, I’m sure you won’t.”

He looked at her, then shrugged. He was never one for leisure reading. “You could have gone with her, if you wished.”

She shook her head. She didn’t want to say goodbye, but she knew Belle wouldn’t have wanted her company. Her sister’s mental state was complex, but that much was clear.

Tarion sighed. “It’s a shame things reached this point, yet I don’t find it surprising. You’ve all suffered much.” For a moment, it seemed if he’d apologize, but he didn’t. It would be of no use. “Blood is thicker than water, Katherine. Have patience.”

She nodded limply. It had been foolish to think she return home after so many years and find everything as she’d left it.

“We should depart as well.” Tarion said after staring at her. “As soon as possible.”

She said nothing, though she agreed. It was another of his kindnesses, she suspected. There was no point in lingering here, licking her wounds like an injured beast.

“Here. This is for you.” He said, reaching into the sleeve of his green robe. He withdrew a silvery cylinder, like the one Morrigan had left.

Kate perked up. Had Belle left her a letter? Perhaps the grounds for their parting hadn’t been as unsteady as she thought.

Tarion handed it over with a slightly displeased look, confusing her. “Happy to receive something from that pup, Katherine?”

She looked at him dumbly. Then she opened the cylinder, reading its contents. “It’s… from Alistair.” She said, feeling disappointment well in her chest. She quickly scanned the beautiful handwriting. There wasn’t much of consequence written. It was mainly a farewell note, that he wouldn’t see her again before he embarked on his journey, and she on hers.

She shook her head, putting it back and setting the cylinder on the table.

“He has ulterior motives, Katherine. Your misadventures should’ve given you some insight into the court’s machinations. His current position is extremely precarious.”

“I know.” She said bluntly. It was her instinct not to give Tarion credit for anything, but she couldn’t deny his influence. And hers, by virtue of being is only child. It was why Gaeleth had gone through so much effort to ensnare her, risking Tarion’s wrath if he was ever discovered.

He took a seat opposite her, taking a long, thin cigarette from his robes, almost like a stick of incense. He lit the tip, inhaling and exhaling blue-ish smoke. It had a gentle, pleasant scent.

“Lighting a fire in the library?” She asked. “Rules for thee and not for me, I see.”

He ignored her, driving the topic toward something else. “Our trip won’t be long—I can’t neglect my duties here. We’ll be travelling light. Take only what you need.”

She said nothing. He should long be aware of her temperament. His words were superfluous.

He gave her a considering look. “You’ll learn the purpose of our visit sooner or later, regardless of what I say or do. When that happens, I urge you not to act rashly.”

“You’re saying I’ll be upset?”

“Indeed.”

“What, don’t tell me you’re secretly smuggling human slaves or something?”

His expression was droll.

“Then what?” She asked before realizing he wouldn’t answer her. She huffed, standing slowly. “Whatever. I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”

He gave a casual nod, his eyes drifting to the tall windows at the end of the library. Night had fallen, and rain was pelting the windows. “We’ll leave tomorrow morning.”

Her movements halted. “So soon?” She asked.

“Why not?”

She inclined her head. Why not indeed. “See you then.”

“Good night, Katherine.”

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The child’s quiet would’ve been unsettling if she hadn’t expected it. Such was the result of being exposed to the horrors if the Void. She felt no pity. He had been an annoyance, a thing that disturbed her concentration. And he had brought the disaster upon himself. Fate would not stay its hand because of youth or ignorance.

With the passing of time, her incursions into that place grew less and less. It had something to do with the red-haired boy, she suspected. The scarce few times she’d been drawn to the nightmare realm since, he was nowhere to be found. Having no other purpose there, her existence had become like that of a rat, ever hiding from the creeping things infesting that place.

Until, one day, she encountered him again, in a realm of endless white sands, under a black sun. Pillars rose from the ground, their purpose long-lost to time. She had climbed to the peak of one, an obelisk toppled on its side, in an attempt to better understand her surroundings. It seemed risky, but she had judged she was alone, that this place was as devoid of unlife as it was of life.

But it wasn’t. Because she found him there, one leg draped over the edge, a hand resting on his knee.

His presence was flickering, coming in and out of focus like an object seen through a warped mirror. One side of his face had become twisted, the skin pulled back to reveal bared teeth and a skeletal cheekbone and jaw. The same eye had sunken away, becoming an abyss that stared back at her as she stared into it. The sense of danger around him had grown far stronger.

“Your brother is a powerful sorcerer.” He said. He spoke with two overlapping voices. One was his, while the other was a whisper, neither male nor female. It lagged a fraction of a second behind, giving an extremely eerie impression. “Beta, perhaps even gamma plus. It’s a gift and a curse. He would make a good ally. And an even worse enemy.”

She listened in silence, wondering at the meaning of his words. Were they categories of magic power? “Nothing compared to yourself, I’m sure.” She replied. She knew that one’s ego often corresponded to their strength. It was worth flattering him a little, if it meant he remained passive.

He stared at her, his unnerving gaze looking into her as if she were a well of clear water. “It seems that way to you?” He asked, a hint of something resembling confusion in his tone. “I am perhaps the most ungifted sorcerer you’ve ever met. No matter my efforts, I never managed even the most mundane of magical feats.”

She didn’t remotely believe him, but she didn’t say so. If he was so ungifted, he never would have managed to ascend to his present state—whatever it was.

The corner of his lips turned downward, undoubtedly having gleaned her thoughts. The other side of his face remained frozen in grotesque palsy. “Aside from my presence in this realm, I have nothing to show for my faint connection to the Source. But that’s besides the point.”

She considered her words carefully. She knew he could read her thoughts. There was no point in lying. “Investing time in him is taking away the same from myself. Even if I dodder after him like a mother hen, what’s to say he’ll return the favor? I have pitiful resources. That I have, I will not gamble away.”

He nodded. “If my words are of no use to you, ignore them.”

She didn’t expect him to withdraw so easily. It made it difficult for her to guess his motives. Surely, he had some intention for the child. If not, why even bring him up?

“What purpose could I possibly have? Neither you nor he can be of any use to me. Just think of it as me being sentimental.”

Her eyebrows would have furrowed, if her limp baby muscles were capable of it. If she even had eyebrows.

He got up slowly. Balancing himself on the pillar’s edge, he took a step closer, his rusted, red-brown hair waving in the wind. Strands were scattered over his mummified face, obscuring his expression. “Sometimes, I wish I had better guidance.” His face turning from her to the horizon, where endless white met the black of an empty sky. “Maybe that’s just me. Maybe you’re more sensible than I am.”

Whether she was sensible or not, what was that to him? Surely, he wasn’t trying to help her? And if he was, how could she ever trust him? He was a stranger, and she had been betrayed many times before. And he had made it clear she could do nothing for him. Was she to believe he’d give something for nothing?

Undoubtedly, he knew his thoughts as he had before, but he didn’t comment on them, letting her draw her own conclusions.

“If you’re not a sorcerer, then… how?” She asked after a while. It was no exaggeration to say she valued nothing more than her own power. Experience had hammered that principle into her. Not camaraderie or affection, not happiness, nor any other skill save that which advanced her violent abilities. If she lacked for anything, it could simply be taken. Likewise, if she didn’t have the strength to resist, what she had would be taken from her.

If he was willing to help, then she wanted the secrets to her power. If he had truly reached his current level, having started from nothing, then it would be a great secret indeed.

“What could the answer be, but sacrifice?” He asked her. If he was offended by her blatant greed, he didn’t show it.

Of course, it required sacrifice, she thought. Was he patronizing her? How could she not know such a basic thing?

A ghost of a smile played on one side of his face. “Indeed. Struggle wouldn’t be unfamiliar to you.” He paused briefly, considering his words. “Sensory deprivation.”

She tilted her head. His answer was too vague to glean any meaning.

“When someone loses a primary sense, sight for example, adaptations occur in the brain, strengthening other senses. ‘Sensory Compensation’ might be a better term. The result would be enhanced touch or hearing, exceeding that which a normal person would be capable of.”

Interest sparked in her mind. She wasn’t unfamiliar with the phenomenon. She waited for him to continue.

“I told you that I’m here of my own volition, didn’t I?”

His question provoked her to thought. Was he implying that his continued presence in the nightmare realm had something to do with ‘sensory deprivation’? Unlike her, who’d only astrally projected herself to this place, had he truly abandoned his body, transferring his entire mind and soul to the nightmare realm?

His silence was enough of an answer.

She hesitated. If he had been as talentless as she claimed, she could somewhat understand his approach. His body wouldn’t avail him. Instead, it would be a hinderance. But that was not the case for her. She was not as gifted as her sibling, but her abilities were still prodigious. His method, on top of being extremely dangerous, wasn’t applicable.

Still, she didn’t believe that alone would’ve been enough to grant him strength.

“Trying to dig more secrets out of me? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. But what I tell you would be equally unhelpful.” He glanced at her, his gaze inscrutable. “I had no choice but to seek my own path. It’s the same for you.”

She considered it. She’d already resolved herself to integrate the sorcery from the World-That-Was with this one’s. If there was a way to ease that process, she would take it. But reality was seldom so forthcoming.

“Best of luck.” He said, turning away. He started his descent down the pillar, his torn feet touching soundlessly against its surface. “I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

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