Chương 65: A Moment of Reflection

Meanwhile… Marnie I shook myself awake. Where had I been? Oh yeah. That fateful night spent with Lord Bracken. He'd been so charming. So vibrant. So unlike what I expected of a noble… but it was all a trick. A trap. As my vision cleared, I saw a familiar sight. Looking like the first bloom of spring, my dear daughter Fenna stood over me with a concerned look in her eyes. No, sweet child. Do not worry for me. Worry for yourself.

I lifted my head and grumbled as a powerful headache threatened to put me right back down. Reaching into my pocket, I felt around for a specific vial. A long bottle? Short? Wide… no. Skinny and small. That was the one. I pulled it out, flipped back the cork, and downed it. The bitter liquid burned across my tongue. My headache disappeared in moments. Fenna's voice, which had been muffled before, suddenly rang clear as she asked, "Are you okay?"

"I am now," I replied, sitting up fully.

"Where are we?" Fenna stood and threw her arms wide, flourishing.

"We're in a museum of sorts."

"A museum? Weren't we in a forest?" Memories began pouring back into me. The witch had seen it all. The moment I fell for Lord Bracken. The moment he betrayed me and took my daughter. The isolation he cast upon me. The control. Only allowing me a few visits… and I was supposed to be thankful for even that.

"Damn witch," I muttered under my breath. Fenna helped me to my feet. She was quite a bit shorter than I was, with intricately knotted hair of deep auburn… just like Lord Bracken. In fact, she was his spitting image. That had always burned me. Why did she have to look so much like him?

"Miss Ysra is a kind witch," Fenna said.

"See? She brought you to me."

"Kind? That remains to be seen. While she brought you to me, I've no doubt she has other plans for us." Not wishing to start an argument quite yet, I asked, "How have you been treated?"

"Oh, wonderfully!" Fenna replied, her eyes practically lighting up.

"In the mist, Ysra came to speak to me, and when I mentioned loving art and poetry, she had her redcaps bring me here." I looked around. It was quite the gallery. Paintings of every style occupied individual alcoves carved into the walls, each illuminated by soft magical lights positioned to enhance its colors. Thick carpet muffled our footsteps, and the air held the faint smell of old canvas and polish.

"Let me show you—" Fenna said, cutting herself off as she grabbed my hand "—there is so much to see!" And so I let her lead me. She showed me painting after painting after painting. Each unique. Each beautiful in its own way. There were three that stood out to me. Three that spoke to my own soul. The Last Light of Veyra, by artist Caldrin More. Made with rich oils, it depicted a coastal town at sunset.

A single white tower stood against an orange glow, and along the coast lay the ruins of sunken ships, their broken masts protruding from dark water. One tower. One bastion. Standing alone for all time with no hope to come. The Queen Beneath the Ash, artist unknown. It had been done in pencil. A crowned woman knelt inside a ruined throne room, her white dress grayed by ash. She stared toward a shattered stained-glass window, clutching a broken sword in one hand.

A woman at the end of her capacity, staring at the last vestiges of what she once knew.

"What are you thinking about?" Fenna asked, drawing me back. I paused, considering how best to phrase myself. In the end, I chose direct. I reached out and held her hands.

"Fenna, my love, my darling daughter… we need to talk." Fenna's smile disappeared. She shook her head.

"There is nothing to talk about. The witch—I mean Ysra—has already made everything clear. We have a deal—""—No!" I replied.

"You do not. I will not see you give up your life for that man—""—He's my father!" Fenna snapped.

"I know you don't approve of him, but he has given me everything. He is kind and loving—""—He uses you! You are nothing to him other than something to extend his own life. You deserve better. You deserve to live—""—I would gladly sacrifice for him!" Fenna broke away and turned.

"You don't know what you are saying. A parent is supposed to love a child unconditionally. To protect them from others who would do harm, not do harm themselves. Garran has failed you… and so have I." My throat tightened.

"I should have taken you the moment you were born and fled. But I… was stupid. I believed the Lord's lies. I believed him when he said he loved me. I believed him when he said he'd take care of us both, right up until he took you from me, only allowing me crumbs of a chance to be your mother." I stepped closer.

"So now, let me finally do what I should have done so long ago. Take you from this place so that you may live a normal, full life."

"And how would you do that?" Fenna asked.

"You plan on fighting your way out? Like it or not, we are at Ysra's mercy." This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. I smiled.

"I've thought of that already." I reached into my pocket and pulled out a vial. Gold flakes shimmered within the liquid, catching the gallery lights whenever I moved it.

"My masterpiece. Made from… well, it doesn't matter. This will give me the strength to tear down anyone who may try to stop us. With this, I—" Fenna slapped my hand. The vial fell. Before I could react, her heel came down. Glass cracked beneath her boot. The liquid spilled across the carpet, gold flakes glittering for a moment before the fabric drank everything away. Breathless, I stared at her.

"…What did you do?"

"What I had to," she replied. Louder this time, " What did you do?" I grabbed her and shook her, unable to control my shock and rage. Clapping sounded from behind us. Slow. Deliberate. I turned. Ysra stood there, smiling as brightly as could be. I growled.

"You… you made her do this?" Ysra put on a false smile.

"I did no such thing. I simply offered Fenna a choice, and well, it seems as if she made it. And now I will offer you the same choice, if you would but listen." I thought back to that final painting. Shadowed figures sat around a table, depicting time as irrelevant. There they remained, forever in one another's company. It was called: For Those Who Stay… by Ysra, Witch of the Mist.

Meanwhile… Sable I kept my eyes closed. I felt the soft satin sheets beneath my back and knew it was real. I smelled her. A light breeze carrying the aroma of fresh flowers lingered at the edge of my senses. I could hear her soft breathing. Waiting. Anticipating. Was I ready? Was I truly ready to kill Ysra for my freedom? My mind said yes. My heart hesitated.

"I know you're awake," Ysra said.

"Do you think this is the first time I've watched you sleep?" I felt her hand, soft and gentle, brush across my face. Goosebumps ran up my arms. Such a loving touch. How I had wished for it. Longed for it. And yet… I could not help but wonder how long it would take for that touch to turn cold once more. I opened my eyes. I was in a place I recognized all too well. Ysra's bedroom. Our, or what had once been our, sleeping quarters. The curtains were drawn, leaving the room illuminated by waning candlelight.

Familiar furniture remained exactly where I remembered it, and the old floral scent clung to the sheets.

"There you are," Ysra whispered. I sat up and stretched. I was no longer wearing the clothes I'd had on before. Something softer. Something casual. Not a dress. No. Ysra knew how much I detested them. More like a tunic, sturdy pants, and soft footwear. I turned. And saw her. She was beautiful. Her skin was so pale that it looked almost ghostly in the weak candlelight. And those eyes… purple. Glowing. They had mesmerized me from the moment I reunited with her. I often forgot.

I remembered her deep brown eyes from when she was a child. From before I had gone off to learn to become a Bard. From before her system had activated and turned her into… this.

"Are you enjoying the sight?" Ysra asked, cracking a smile. I chuckled.

"You know I am. Your beauty was never something I've wavered on. Never for a moment."

"Oh, you are quite the talker. You always have been. You were my voice for so long."

"And you, my conscience," I replied.

"Always there. Always guiding." Ysra's smile slowly slipped away.

"And yet, we find ourselves here, opposing each other."

"Are we?" I asked.

"In opposition, I mean?" Ysra stood from the bed and walked toward a bookshelf. She leaned against it, running her fingers absently along one of the wooden shelves.

"I've only ever wanted you, and you… you want the world. But the world isn't for me. I could never join you out there—and that was even before my curse." She looked towards me.

"But I wished for it. I sought it. Dreamed of it. And so… yes, we find ourselves on opposing ends of a chasm."

"Then why don't you explain the sides?" I asked.

"Just so we are clear."

"Very well… but I'd rather do it in front of everyone. Your friend Rook is currently cooking us a banquet. I can see him now. I just returned his odd little companion."

"Simulacrums?" I asked.

"And now I'm curious if this is the real you or just one of your mimicries." Ysra stepped forward. She leaned down—and pressed her lips against mine. I tasted her. Fresh-cut fruit. Her mouth opened, and I fell into her passion. My mind went blank. I was lost. Damn the woman… how could she still make me feel this way? She pulled back, and it was as if someone had cut a rope, sending me hurtling into an endless abyss.

"No," I said, breathless.

"No way that is a simulacrum. This is you. The real you."

"My simulacrums are keeping your friends busy as we speak. When they return to me, I'll know what they know." Her purple eyes remained fixed on mine.

"So that just leaves us." Controlling my primal urges, I sucked in a deep breath, ready to confront her.

"You mean to keep us here, don't you? It may not be apparent to the rest of them, but that's what this is, isn't it?" Ysra remained silent.

"You seek to leverage Fenna's curse to sway Marnie, and she was bait to lure my companions and me. You truly think you can convince us to stay, don't you?"

"Way to spoil the reveal," Ysra replied.

"And yes, why not? Why can't you?" She spread her hands.

"You saw it yourself. I can create anything for you. Your friends have memories of their own. I am adding them to mine now. I can create so many new places to see. To experience. You will long for nothing." Her voice grew more animated as she spoke.

"None of you will ever want for a thing. I can have you, and you can have them. You can entertain them. Rook can cook us meals. Vaelith can have the family she no longer has. Marnie can keep her family alive. Fenna can protect her father, and Darwin…" Ysra paused.

"Well, I can stave off that poor creature's fate." Her expression softened.

"And I… I can have you." She smiled.

"Everybody wins. Everybody."

"Except it's a lie—"" —Shhh," Ysra said, placing a finger against my lips.

"Before you reject my offer, there is something I wish to show you. It's something I've been working on." She walked towards a large mirror. I followed. Its polished surface reflected both of us. I blinked. We were children again. Two little girls standing side by side. I blinked once more. We were back to normal.

"What is this?" I asked.

"A mirror."

"Obviously… what does it do?"

"It reflects what I wish it to reflect. In this case, my past." Ysra stared into the glass.

"We've never talked about what happened after you left to train to become a Bard." She turned toward me.

"Do you wish to see?" My heart dropped. Ysra had never talked about her past. I knew from the time I had spent with her that something had happened. But I had always feared asking about it. I was a coward… but no more. I nodded as I said, "Show me."