Chaser of Faith

I tore my hand away from Simon with a look of horror on my face.

“What?” I shrieked. I backed away, bumping into the door behind me. He edged closer. “I am not your wife! I’ve never met you before!” I fought, ducking away. I didn’t turn my back to him, sidestepping my way to the staircase.

“Yes, of course, my goddess,” he sang. I snarled and ground my teeth together at the mention of that word. “Please, allow me to introduce myself.” He took a step back, putting his left hand on his right bicep, where the gold cuff would be placed if it had been on his right side, and took a deep bow with his right arm straight at his side. “My name is San Simon of Herith. I am the son of Rohathro Sandalphon and Sanat Cerrn . I am the youngest of three brothers, 258 years old. Please,” he said quietly. “What is your name?” I gaped at him through his introduction, finally shutting my mouth and swallowing hard with his question.

“My name is Claire Turn,” I began slowly. “I’m from Earth.” I saw his face light up as I spoke. I stared at him in horror. “I’m 22 years old, the only child of Kalle and Astra Turn. I live in Beythas now with… with my friends- who are missing me very much right now, and they will be furious to know that you have kidnapped me.” I started for the door quickly, but Simon placed himself in my path, spreading his wings powerfully.

“You must stay,” he said pleasantly, holding a hand up in front of him.

“You can’t keep me here,” I retorted. I felt my wings stretch out and flap a gust of wind his way. His short hair moved slightly around his crown but he didn’t even blink.

“Let me give you everything,” he said, getting a hold of both of my hands. I tried to slip them out, so he held onto my wrists instead. “I have been trying to find an extraordinary creature like yourself for so long. I am forbidden to wed a Nythiat or a Pentixiat, as my elder brothers have already taken those creatures as their partners. But I was never one to settle,” he said with a smile. His grip on my wrists loosened, but he drew my hands close to his chest.

“Me neither,” I growled, struggling again. I ripped my hands away from him, stepping back quickly and turning around. I tore up the stairs closest to me.

“Gee gerro,” he said tightly. I didn’t hear him move- I didn’t hear his footsteps; I didn’t hear his wings. He didn’t need to come after me. When I reached the top of the stairs, four new men, dressed in the uniform of the Enforcers, met me and grabbed onto my arms and legs. They picked me up as I kicked and struggled, and started to carry me down the hallway.

“Take the night to think it over, Claire, my darling,” Simon’s voice rang out from the foyer. I let out a scream of frustration.

“Go to hell,” I shouted. Again, that hopeless feeling had started to seep in through the cracks in my shell of anger and hatred. I elbowed one of the Enforcers in the nose but he barely flinched. He quickly grabbed onto my arm again, gripping tightly and pinching my skin. “Get off, get off me,” I snarled.

“Xesand gee plath zete ve maiit hyex,” one of the Enforcers said. I didn’t understand anything they said- they spoke quickly and fluently. I continued to struggle and swear. Occasionally I would throw the Enforcers off and they would stagger and nearly trip over the carpet, but they always quickly corrected themselves.

The walls were bright white and the light wood floor was covered with a deep blue rug, rolled down the center of the hall. Lining the walls were white, gold, and blue drapes. There were paintings of angels and Saniats; castles and cities; meadows and forests. When my muscles became weak and sore I finally fell limp in their arms and watched the paintings as we passed them. They took me down the halls and up two more sets of stairs. When we got to the final floor, I noticed the ceiling turned completely to glass. The sun shone through to light the halls up naturally. I stared at the sky, which was turning pinkish.

“It never rains,” I breathed softly. The realisation had hit me suddenly. I missed it- the rain. I missed the summer thunderstorms and misty drizzles. Did it ever rain on this planet?

As my muscles ached, I grew tired. It was so difficult to hold onto my energy when so many weird and terrible things kept happening to me. Was I ever going to be able to rest? Was I ever going to have a normal life?

Certainly not as some stranger’s queen, I thought bitterly.

How ironic it was that, with my wings, the sky was right there for me to explore, but still so far away from me. Simon had said I wasn’t a prisoner, but in that moment I felt more like a prisoner than I had ever felt before. The hopeless feelings seeped in once more, making my stomach feel empty and sick. I let my eyes unfocus, letting the colors around me blur together.

“Prison,” I whispered to myself. I was suddenly stood up on my feet. I stumbled but snapped to attention quickly. I tried to back out of the Enforcers’ tight grip on my arms, but they held me firmly in place. We faced a door, which was a deep dark brown stained wood- almost black. It was different from any other room. One of the men who held my feet fiddled with the doorknob, and opened it quickly. He stepped into the room and lit up some small oil lamps. I noticed he tucked his matches back into his pocket when he was done, giving my stomach another turn of despair.

Prison.

The two men beside me had pulled me into the room. The carpet was plush and white, and it felt comfortable beneath my chilled, bare feet. The walls were a light shade of blue. The bed was huge with a white comforter and white pillows. The banisters were the same dark brown as the door, draped with dark blue and gold fabric. There was one window above the head of the bed, showing the sky again. I felt a tug at my heart with that small window. I could definitely break that glass.

“You will stay. Dinner comes later-” I interrupted the man next to me before he could finish.

“I don't want any dinner. I want to leave.” I balled my hands into fists at my sides, facing him and holding eye contact. He shook his head, narrowing his gaze.

“Breakfast at sunrise. Clothes in closet.” He turned and headed for the door, the other three men following suit. I stood still, fuming. When they shut the door solidly behind themselves, I grabbed a solid, white, stone statue from the table on the other side of the room with both hands. I took two steps towards the bed, winding up my arm, and flung the statue at the window with all the strength I could muster.

The statue slammed into the glass and fell to the floor with a loud, heavy thud. I looked at the glass- not a scratch.

I screamed as loud as I could.

I pressed my fists into my temples and squeezed my eyes shut tightly. I screamed shrilly and forcefully. I felt my throat catch and strain. I felt my wings swing widely- they had a mind of their own, I swear. My knees finally gave and I had to sink to the ground.

I felt so lost, so confused, so hopeless.

I layed down on my side, spreading my wings out across the plush carpet. I stared at the floor while I calmed down. I breath was scratchy. I cleared my throat uncomfortably. My throat was raw and sore.

“Prison,” I whispered, though barely any noise came- only air. “Prison,” I mouthed. I blinked rapidly, feeling my eyes get more dry and tired. I looked up at the ceiling, blinking. I felt something pop painfully in the center of my head, and I inhaled sharply, widening my eyes and stiffening my body.

Suddenly, the ceiling changed. The walls changed. The light changed. The air changed. I changed.

“Prison,” I whispered. “Prison.” Through the reflection of the mirror I could see the illusionist come back through the door and into the room. “Prison, prison, prison.” The illusionist approached me, standing in front of my reflection through the mirror. “Not yet?” I asked him. My prison was dark. Quiet. Lonely. The world out there was brighter than it used to be. But I knew it was just as weak.

“The angel has it hidden. I believe the dagger is in his home. The vampire is looking for me. The dark angel took her I think. They have been missing for weeks. And my brother… My brother is with the angel looking for them.” I blinked slowly, not looking at him directly. He sounded… different. As if he was lying.

“I thought your brother was dead.” I did not see him flinch. Good. Otherwise we would have a problem.

“I have another brother. He is weaker than I am. And weaker than Levi was.” I said nothing. “I’m getting it done, I swear.” I sighed, still remaining silent. He did not move or speak. We stood in silence for minutes.

Prison, prison, prison.

I wanted out.

“How much time?” I asked distractedly.

“I need another few months, Xesand.”

“You have two.” The illusionist’s jaw set tightly.

“But she-”

I took in gasps of air, snapping my hands up to my head, tightening my eyes and whimpering in pain. I curled into myself, trying to steady my breathing. My head ached sharply, I could feel it in my eyes. I took in deep breaths, feeling dizzy and nauseous from the pain. It took me a lot of time to manage to open my eyes again. My headache began to subside and I was able to breathe normally again.

I groaned and stretched out slowly, looking to the window. The room was almost completely dark. The sun was gone- it looked like it had been gone for hours. The two moons were beginning to cross each other in the sky. The sun had been gone for hours.

As I craned my neck to look around the room, I felt a different stab of pain on the back of my neck. I put my hand on my neck, trying to feel for the cause. It felt wet, slippery, and I could feel the edges of my skin puckered in gashes. It stung to touch, and I couldn’t stop tears from escaping as I drew my hand away. I looked down at my fingers, which were dark and shiny in the moonlight. I looked behind me where my head had been. The plush white carpet was stained a dark brownish-black. I tried to swallow to get rid of the lump in my throat, where fear and sickness had begun to pool.

What do I do, what do I do…

“Help,” I strained to whisper. Nothing but air and squeaks came out once again. I got onto my hands and knees and crawled to the door, a few yards away from me. I put a bloody hand up against the door, leaning on it to support myself up into a kneeling position. I slammed my hand against the door- once, twice, three times. “Help,” I squeaked. I waited for someone to come.

But, no one did.

I felt warm drips of blood run down my back and pool at the top hem of my dress. I squeaked out a helpless sob, and struggled to stand up. I noticed the bathroom on the other side of the room, and started towards it. My vision went black and I slammed into the wall. I closed my eyes, waiting for the dizziness to subside and leaning against the wall. I took in a breath and opened my eyes again, staggering to the bathroom. I slammed my hands down onto the counter sink and saw my reflection in the pristine mirror. My neck was almost completely covered in blood. My hair was a tangled mess. My dress was dirty and bloody. I looked like a completely different person. The white wings behind me were bright. Ivory feathers turned to fire-engine red near my back.

I looked to my right and saw a large white bathtub. I toppled to the ground in front of the tub, my vision going fuzzy and dark again. I reached out to the faucets, turning them on slowly. I tore off my dress and climbed into the tub. The water was cold. It took a few tries for me to lean up to fiddle with the knobs, but I eventually managed to get the hot water to come out. I leaned over the side of the tub, unable to lay back comfortably because of my wings.

I sat there for a while, not moving, letting the water creep up over my skin, wrapping me in warmth. I hadn’t felt this warm water in weeks, since I was back home. Back on Earth. I looked down the water slowly. It had a brownish tinge to it because of the blood that continued to drip. I scooped some of the water and let it fall over my shoulders. I scooped some more, holding in a breath to brace myself, and spilled the water onto the back of my neck. The gash stung and I let out a strained noise, letting out a few soft sobs. I took a wash cloth and laid it over my wound, pressing it with one hand. I calmed myself, breathing deeply and slowly and relishing the warm water. I continued to wash myself, taking soaps from the wall near me, thinking to distract myself.

What I had seen… it wasn’t like the illusions I had grown accustomed to. The pain I felt. What I saw. Who I became.

I thought hard, struggling to remember the details.

Gage… The illusionist I saw was Gage.

Gage called me Xesand. What did that mean? Had I heard that word before? It felt like I had.

Gage mentioned Remy and Levi.

What kind of vivid dream was this? How could my brain have possibly made all of that up?

The lingering feeling of ‘prison’ weighed me down.

The world I had seen was distorted. Gage was in front of me, but it was as if I wasn’t… near him. I had felt far away. Like the dark world I was in was far from the one that he was in.

By the time that I had washed myself of all the grime and blood, the water turned a soapy brown color. I made sure to wash my wings, as well. I felt lighter. I dried off and got dressed in a night dress from the closet, grabbing another cloth to use as a makeshift bandage. I slowly walked to my bed, making sure to not step in the bloody spot of the carpet. I collapsed onto the bed, on top of the covers. My wings were exposed to the air. I stretched them out and rested them on the comforter. I laid the cloth on my neck, letting gravity to my work for me. I closed my eyes for just a moment and before I knew it, I was being awoken by the door being opened.

“Pene rith gret lozed gee mye?” I groaned, shifting slightly. As I moved my whole body ached and I immediately ceased any other movement. I heard several footsteps pad across the carpet.

“Geer gerende stin mye?” another voice added. I ground my teeth together and lifted myself up, shaking weakly.

“I’m fine, thanks for asking,” I said bitterly. I felt the cloth fall from my neck as I kneeled on the bed and straightened my back. My bones cracked.

“What have you done?” one of the men asked angrily. I scoffed, turning to them. “Why did you do that to your neck?” I glared. There were four of them.

“I felt like I needed a change,” I sneered. I winced as I stepped off the bed.

“Put on something suitable for the King,” the first guard ordered. I stood and stared at him, debating turning around and getting back into bed. But, I wouldn’t do well if I had to get manhandled by them right now. I needed to cooperate for my own good. I put a hand to the gashes on my neck, the tip of my finger brushing what felt like bone. A chill ran down my back with disgust and horror. I expected it to be healed, but the wound was still deep and fragile. I thought that insta-healing came with the wings. Didn’t it?

“Yeah, yeah. Give me a second.”

I headed for the closet again. I hadn’t noticed last night how big it was, and how well-stocked it was. There was a side with women’s clothes and shoes and accessories, as well as a side for men’s clothes, shoes, and accessories. I looked around, adjusting my eyes to the low light. There was a single stream of sunlight that brushed my shoulder, warming it slightly, and hit the floor.

I scanned the clothes and settled on a dark green dress. It had an open back for my wings, so that I wouldn’t have to mess with it too much in order to get it to fit properly. I put that on and grabbed a pair of flat, black shoes. I refused to fix my hair. I didn’t care. I met the guards and they surrounded me to lead me out of my room and to where Simon would be.

We walked down the hall with the glass ceiling, and down the staircases. The two guards in front of me took new turns and soon enough I found myself standing in a large, bright dining hall. I looked around in awe. It was beautiful.

“Gee gerende stin,” one of the guards in front of me said loudly. His voice echoed in the hall.

“Oh?” I heard someone else say from the other side of the room. I looked and noticed Simon sitting at the head of the table. He was reading a book and drinking from a mug. “Let me see,” he said, setting down his drinking and closing up his book. He stood up and started towards us. I glared at him, breathing slowly and balling up my fists. I saw his eyes scan me. “What did she do?”

“Turn around,” the guard said to me, putting a hand on my shoulder and pushing me slightly. I turned around with a huff. The other guard moved my ratty hair to the side. It was silent for a few moments.

“Nehath,” Simon stated finally. “Nehath,” he repeated. “Why?” He put a rough hand on my shoulder, turning me back to him forcefully. I winced as the movement shot up through my neck. “Why did you do this? Who told you to do this?” He didn’t sound angry, but his accusatory tone struck a nerve.

“I didn’t do it!” I shouted. I couldn’t help myself. “No one told me to do this! It just happened!” The hall rang with my voice. I stared Simon down. He looked angry, but I really didn’t know why. “Why do you care?” I finally asked. His eyes lightened.

“That is a Nythen symbol,” he said. I put my hand up to the wound, tracing the edges. It felt like nothing to me. “It means… prophecy.” I narrowed my gaze at him, studying his reaction. The corners of his mouth seemed to twitch up into a smile. “It also has a sister symbol. A symbol that is deeply connected to it. Naheth,” he told me. “Star.”