Chapter Four - Part Three
By Darrell Walker
Darrell Walker's Homepage

Aerinn stumbled into the hallway, turned and ran. He rounded the corner and slammed into a stone wall, bouncing and landing hard on his bottom. Aerinn grunted as the breath was knocked out of him.

"Watch where you're going, boy!" a snarling voice spat. Aerinn looked up into the face of a very angry sidhe, who's face burned almost as red as his hair.

"I--I'm sorry," he managed to gasp.

"What's going on?" demanded a harsh voice. "Get out of my way, you imbeciles!"

The red-haired sidhe moved aside. Aerinn saw now that the man was part of an escort of some kind. He and the other sidhe in the group all wore dark plate armor. Aerinn climbed slowly to his feet, noticing another pair of legs coming before him.

"Who the hell do you think you are to get in the way of my escort?!" the owner of the legs demanded angrily.

Aerinn finished standing and raised his eyes to the man's arrogantly beautiful face. He felt his stomach clench with hatred as he recognized the face of the man in his dream. That horrible man who had threatened Selene.

Malaggar's face registered shock, draining of blood. "You!" he hissed. The man's hand shot out, grabbing Aerinn by his tunic, lifting him like a babe. Aerinn dangled in the sidhe's grasp a brief instant before he was slammed against the corridor wall. His head exploded in colors at the impact, his ribs shattering against the hard stone.

"At last we meet again, Prince Moonwater!" the man sneered, his voice cutting through the roaring in Aerinn’s ears. Aerinn couldn't see well enough to notice his expression.

Aerinn groaned with agony, unable to draw breath for the pain. Vaguely he was aware of the sound of a knife being drawn, and then an edge being pressed to his neck. Even above the pain, Aerinn felt an ache soak into his body and knew the blade to be cold iron. He'd learned enough to know that iron could destroy his faerie soul utterly, leaving nothing surviving to enjoy an afterlife.

"I shall enjoy killing you!" Malaggar snarled, flecking spittle into Aerinn’s ear.

Aerinn groaned, surprised he had the air to do that. Selene's face swam in front of his darkening eyes. Oh Selene, an ancient and almost-forgotten part of himself prayed, I'm so sorry...

"Aerinn!"

Cassandra's scream caught both men's attention. Malaggar looked from his hated rival's glassy eyes.

"Malaggar, let him go this instant!" Cassandra strode up to where Malaggar stood, Aerinn, hanging limply in his hand, was still pressed hard against the corridor wall.

"Good morning, my Lady," Malaggar said pleasantly. "I hope my early arrival hasn't caught you unprepared. You didn't tell me you had such a treat awaiting me."

"I said let him go!" Cassandra enunciated each word, her hand grabbing the arm with the dagger.

Malaggar swung with his free hand, catching Cassandra in the chest and sending her flying against the other wall. She hit the wall with a thud and slid to the floor, her eyes losing focus. "Who the fuck do you think you are ordering me? I out-rank you, you bitch!" Malaggar shouted, enraged by her insolence.

"You are a guest in my freehold, Your Grace," Cassandra said shakily, climbing to her feet, "and Aerinn is my guest. I will not allow him to be harmed."

"And just what are you going to do about it?" Malaggar raised his eyebrows, looking meaningfully at the six armed sidhe watching with hands on weapons.

Aerinn gasped for air, and nearly passed out from the pain. He was sure at least one of his lungs were punctured. Selene...his mind cried out silently. He looked to Cassandra, saw the look on her face and knew she was thinking for all she was worth. It didn't look like this time she would be crafty enough.

Cassandra sighed. "I'm not going to do anything about it, Malaggar. You're right. You outrank me, you're more powerful than I, and I can't stop you."

Aerinn almost whimpered. He'd hoped she would at least try. He remembered the man in her bedchamber. He supposed he was lucky she'd even made a show of resistance. She probably felt she owed him that at least.

Malaggar smiled sarcastically. "Thank you for your permission, my Lady. Don't worry. I can make the part of him you like best into a nice little key chain for you."

Aerinn felt the blade begin to slide against his skin of his neck, then pause as Cassandra said, way too casually, "Of course, that's not really Prince Aerinn Moonwater."

Malaggar looked at her, suspicion igniting in his eyes. "What do you mean, this isn't Aerinn Moonwater?" He pointed his finger at her. "I've hated this man for centuries; I know who he is!"

"Oh, he's Aerinn Moonwater. There's no doubt about that," Cassandra replied calmly, smoothing her nightdress, "but he isn't the Aerinn Moonwater you know and...hate."

Malaggar snorted.

"You don't believe me? Look at him. Look at him! Does he look like the Prince you faced on the battlefield countless times? Does he look like the man who brought you, on your knees, before the Circle of Seven not once, but three times for punishment?" Cassandra faced him, head held high, emanating the commanding power of the sidhe in all her glory.

Malaggar punched her, shattering her nose. Blood sprayed across Cassandra's face as she slammed back into the wall behind her and crumpled to a heap on the floor. "God-damned sidhe bitches. Never did care for them," he muttered, shaking his hand. He turned his attention back to Aerinn, noticed the man was almost unconscious, and surely was delirious, from the pain. He opened his other hand, watched in disgust as the man's knees buckled and he slid down the wall to the floor. "She's right, though," he mused, studying Aerinn’s still body. "You're not even a shadow of the man I once knew. Killing you here, now, would bring me no pleasure." He spat, making sure to hit Aerinn in the face.

Aerinn tried to concentrate on what was going on, but everything seemed farther and farther away. His body screamed in pain as his brain begged for release. He held on to consciousness with his fingernails.

Malaggar paced, fuming. Finally, he slammed his fists together, bent down, and hauled Aerinn to his feet. "I can't have you passing out on me, my Prince," he said with mock compassion. "I want to be sure you hear what I have to say." He slapped Aerinn--again and again, harder and harder.

Aerinn gasped as the healing glamour charged through him. He'd been healed before, but it had never been painful. Now it felt as though someone had replaced the blood in his veins with acid. Aerinn fell to his knees, groaning, his tortured mind floundering under the continual onslaught of pain.

"Get up!" Malaggar hauled the now semi-lucid Aerinn to his feet. He moved his face very close to Aerinn's, so close their noses touched. "I will give you time to train for our duel, Aerinn," he hissed, flecking Aerinn’s face with spittle. "You always were a coward, so I'll give you some incentive to face me. If I know you at all, and I think I do, you're looking for your human whore." Malaggar smiled as he saw the fear fill Aerinn's eyes. There was one certain way to make a noble of House Fiona feel that particular emotion, and Malaggar had learned it a long, long time ago. "You, my friend," Malaggar’s lips twisted the word, making it an antithesis of its true meaning, "are no longer a Prince, but I, in some areas of the Dreaming, am. I don't think it will be difficult for me to find your precious lover before you do." Malaggar's gloating smile held no humor, only desire for vengeance. "I will make you pay for what you did to me. And I will make your woman pay too. She and I, we will be awaiting your arrival, my Prince!"

With that Malaggar threw Aerinn against the wall again, letting him fall to the ground. Then he kicked him once for good measure. He didn't want any residual effects of his healing cantrip remaining. "Aufwiedersehen, Aerinn. Apologize to Cassandra for the brevity of my stay, will you?"

Malaggar waited a moment for a response, but Aerinn had lost consciousness.

Lord Aerinn Moonwater, Defender of the Dream, was in a nightmare. That was the only word to describe it. Two small armies of the fae met one another in bitter battle. Sidhe fought sidhe and troll fought troll. Aerinn's men fought desperately, trying to preserve the life of their lord's love.

The warriors were arranged in a rough circle, Aerinn and his men trying to push through Malaggar's forces to reach the man and his prisoner within. Malaggar's bonfire seemed to mock them from the center's circle, promising warmth and security in a night that was cold with bitter loss.

"Give it up Aerinn!" the dark sidhe spat over the din of clashing blades and the screams of the wounded and the dying. "She's mine!" he shouted. "As you can see, she desires no one as much as she desires me!" To illustrate his words, Malaggar grabbed a dazed and disheveled Selene by the front of her dress and kissed her roughly.

Da’din, fighting by his soulbrother's side, saw the fire flare in Aerinn's eyes. The Fiona sidhe cried out his turmoil as he savagely disemboweled one of Malaggar's knights, the razor-sharp steel of his fae blade cutting through the other sidhe's mail like a thin slice of cheese. The man fell with a gurgled scream, hot blood bubbling from his mouth, steaming in the frosty night air.

Aerinn didn't even notice the man's death; his eyes were on Selene. "Let her go, Malaggar!" he screamed, his voice twisted beyond recognition by pain and rage. "Have you no honor? Would you take a woman who desires nothing more than to be rid of your foul presence?!" he challenged, wanting the man in his bare hands.

Malaggar's face turned a blotchy white in the firelight. "How dare you?" he spat. Selene took the opportunity of his distraction to wrench herself from the man's grasp. Malaggar swore profusely and kicked her savagely with his boot. The woman gasped loudly as his foot hit her floating ribs and lay on the ground, writhing and groaning, gasping for air like a fish out of water. "You are right, Lord Aerinn," he called out to his embattled foe, "she is not worthy of me! See how she rolls on the ground like a gluttonous pig!" He accented his words with another hard kick to Selene's side. The woman had no breath left to scream, but her eyes widened in pain, and her mouth opened silently, gasping for air. A strangled groan escaped her lips.

Da’din dropped to his knee and swung his massive troll sword, liberating five sidhe of their legs with one stroke. He cursed fluently as he regained his footing, parrying a strike from one warrior as another warrior bounced harmlessly off his shoulder plate. "You are a coward, Malaggar!" His booming voice carried easily over the clamor of battle. "Why don't you try that with someone more your equal? You would be too easily destroyed by me, but I am sure Lord Aerinn would be more than willing to rid that pretty body of yours of that disgusting excuse for a soul!"

Selene clawed the dirt with her hands, trying to pull herself away from her captor, but her strength had left her. Malaggar grabbed her by her hair and yanked her roughly to her feet. Selene whimpered with pain, her vision growing dark at the edges.

"Insolence!" Malaggar screamed, spittle flying from his lips. "Enough! No woman is worth such insults! Surely not a human woman!" He wrapped a strong arm around Selene, crushing her to his chest, as he pulled out a long slender dagger with his other hand. The blade gleamed in the firelight. "Sir Aerinn," he called, "I wouldn't want you to miss this."

Aerinn's sword pierced a troll's breast plate, piercing his heart and exploding out of his back. Aerinn kicked the dead troll off his blade with a booted foot, sent the fae flying to land on his back in the dust. "Selene!" he screamed. Soulguider flashed in the flickering firelight like burning moonlight, and troll and sidhe fell like grain, their souls sent back to the dreaming from whence they came.

Malaggar watched the man fight, letting his warriors die. He smiled to himself, pleased that he could arose such passion in a man. "How you fight, Lord Aerinn!" he shouted out. "It would appear I now know how to motivate you! Perhaps now you will be worthy of crossing blades with!"

Da’din fought in a fury at his lord's side, desperate to rescue the lady from the fate he saw before her. "You swine, Malaggar!" he screamed over the din. "You know you could never beat Aerinn in honorable combat!"

Aerinn fought desperately, but his opponents seemed unending. Soulguider throbbed in his hands, screaming for the blood of its enemies, its blue fire casting Aerinn's grim face in eerie, flickering shadows. The blue flames flickered, reflected within his blood-spattered armor. His normal mode of thought had been replaced by a primal beast. His eyes were only for Selene, held in that monster's grasp, a blade of sharp steel held to her slender throat. Aerinn could see her gasping for breath, could see her lips calling out to him silently. Her eyes held his, pleading that he save her from the terror she'd been enduring at the man's hands. Aerinn fought harder, his limbs empowered by battle cantrips. He called out to the gods, and a Quicksilver seized his tiring limbs. The sidhe lord erupted, his sword moving faster than the eye could see, and fae after fae returned to the Dreaming.

Beside him, Da’din warred, his blade dark with the blood of faerie Nobility. He fought like a man mad, cutting with his sword, holding the massive weapon in one strong hand as he lashed out with his other fist, shattering the delicate faces of the sidhe.

But it wasn't enough. Malaggar laughed at their efforts. Oh, they were winning, and his men were dropping like flies, but he still had time to enact revenge against this man who had ruined his plans more times than he could count. "You should know me better by now, Aerinn!" he taunted. "Do you not realize you waste your strength? For if I cannot have this woman, surely no other man will!" He grabbed Selene by her hair, pulled her head back. "Look upon your love one more time, my lord, for surely you will never see her in this life again!" He pulled the dagger back, saw Aerinn's eyes transfixed on its glittering length of death. "Such is the end of 'True Love'!" he said with a mocking laugh and brought the blade forward with a snap, sinking it to the hilt in Selene's soft neck, so its point drove through both arteries and emerged from the other side, stabbing out of her pure white skin like a parasitic larva.

Selene screamed then, a gurgling scream that too quickly faded to silence.

Aerinn's vision was replaced by a red haze. He drove forward, slicing blindly with his sword. He took many hits, for he didn't even try to fend of his enemies’ blows. He felt nothing, except for an imaginary dagger piercing his neck and another, much more real, driving deep into his heart.

Da’din was one step behind, trying to protect his frenzied friend, cutting down those who tried to take him from behind.

Aerinn broke into the center of the circle, the silent dead and moaning wounded littering the ground behind him, but it was too late. With a flash of light, Malaggar and the body of Aerinn’s love were gone.

"Selene!" Aerinn screamed, his passion tearing his voice into a strangled exclamation of the death of hope...

Aerinn stood, numb. His sword dropped from his hand as Da’din and the rest of his companions finished off those not wise enough to flee. His eyes transfixed on the pool of blood where Malaggar had stood. He stumbled forward, fell to his knees. His hand reached out, on its own seemingly, for conscious thought was beyond him. He touched his fingers to the already cooling lifeblood of his one True Love. Tears flowed unchecked down his cheeks, dripping off his jaw to spatter in the dust and to mix with the blood that was so like that flowing through his own veins. He brought his fingers to his lips. Her blood burned his tongue and mind, and he felt his heart die.

Behind him, Da’din the Guardian stood helpless. He watched as his friend fell face-down on the ground and buried his face in the pool of blood that was already being absorbed by the thirsty earth.

When the punishment of the Dreaming hit him--the backlash of his failed Oaths to Selene--Aerinn didn't even notice.

Mertisha, Cassandra's healer, delicately removed her fingers from Sir Aerinn's face. The glamour of her Heatherbalm cantrip was already fading from the air. The cantrip had worked--he was healed But Mertisha was worried to see his face still tight, the muscles of his body still clenched. Usually a healing left the person relaxed, in a healing sleep. What was going on?

Aerinn regained consciousness slowly, so slowly he was not sure when his eyes opened, only that he gradually became aware of lying in a bed in a dark room. His room, he realized with some effort. What had happened?

Slowly the memories came back, both of what had transpired in the hall and in his dream. "Malaggar," he whispered. "Selene..."

Then more memories returned. Memories of his betrayal, betrayal by yet another who he thought loved him. "Cassandra...how could you?" he whispered.

He sat up weakly, swung his feet over the side of the bed. He could only stand by leaning on the sturdy oak bedpost. He stood, wavering, waiting for the room to stop spinning.

He fell as the floor shook beneath him. He had almost regained his feet when he was knocked down again. "That isn't me," he muttered. Alarmed, he staggered to the closet set by the window. He pulled out his armor and sword. "What the hell is going on?" he wondered as the freehold trembled yet again.

A few minutes later Aerinn was moving down the hall as fast as he could manage, leaning on the wall for support. Following a tickling in his mind, he had brought everything important to him after he'd managed to don his armor, carrying it all in a sack slung over his shoulder. He headed first to Cassandra's room, trying to avoid the fae hurrying through the halls. It seemed every person in the Resonant was in a hurry to get somewhere. He considered asking one of them, but he was too out of sorts. He needed to speak to Cassandra.

Her chambers were empty. He could still catch a faint odor of musk. Unless her betrayal of his last morning was an everyday thing, it was still the same day. He could tell by the smell of the breeze coming through her open window that it was late evening and not early morning. So he'd been out about twelve hours, he decided.

He went next to the command room, but found it deserted as well. "What the hell is going on?" he wondered again out loud.

"The Resonant is falling, Sir Aerinn." Aerinn turned at the voice. He hadn't heard Marcus enter. Aerinn realized he was more upset than he had thought not to have noticed the man's entrance.

"What do you mean? Where's Cassandra?"

"War has broken out in the streets. Yes, right in front of the freehold," he spoke in answer to the questions in Aerinn's eyes. "We kept it from here as long as we could, but the gangs have grown too strong, and our influence is just too weak."

"A gang war?" Aerinn asked incredulously. "Why would that cause the freehold to fall?" As if to accentuate his words, the freehold shook again, even harder. Now that Aerinn concentrated, he could sense the glamour of the place fluctuating wildly, but on a steady decline, as it was steadily destroyed by the banality around it.

Marcus shook his head, suddenly angry. "You're asking me to explain to you the banality of inner city violence? I don't have time for this. The freehold's dead, Aerinn. It happens. We're all evacuating, and I suggest you do the same. Unless you wish to stay here permanently!" he shouted, turned and strode toward the door.

"Wait!" Aerinn rushed up to him, caught his arm. "Where's Cassandra?" Marcus gave him a long, measuring look. "What is it, Marcus? Where is she?"

The knight sighed. "She's in the Core, Aerinn, but I don't think she'd appreciate you interrupting her." Marcus shook his head and left.

Aerinn wondered a moment, but the freehold shook with another tremor, bringing him from his thoughts. With a curse, he hurried to the lift-tube. Maybe he already was in Bedlam, he thought as the field of glamour sped him into the depths of the falling freehold. Surely the rest of the world seemed to be going insane.

Cassandra watched the fading balefire as it changed from a healthy, vibrant green to a sickly yellow. "Cassandra! What the hell is going on?" She looked up as Aerinn rushed into the Core.

"Aerinn!" She rushed over to him, hugged him fiercely. "Are you alright?" She felt him stiffen in her arms.

"That all depends on what you mean..." he said softly.

Cassandra sighed. "I'm so sorry, Aerinn, I never meant to hurt you--" She was interrupted by a severe tremor, the biggest yet, and the structure groaned around them. The heaving floor threw her against Aerinn's chest. The man was still weak and fell before her, and they were both on the ground.

"Are you alright?" she asked, easing off of him.

"I'm fine," he answered picking himself up and then helping her. "We've got to get out of here." He pointed to the walls and to the widening cracks spider webbing their surfaces. Dust and masonry fell in small pieces from the ceiling far above them.

Cassandra shook her head. "No. You go, Aerinn. I'm staying."

Aerinn looked at her incredulously. "Are you crazy? This place is falling down around our ears!"

"I know, Aerinn," she said soothingly, running her hands over his chest, "but this is my home, and I'm not leaving."

Aerinn opened his mouth to argue, but he knew that look in her eyes. He sighed. "Then I'm staying with you."

Cassandra swallowed. "No, you're not. You have a Quest to begin, or have you forgotten?"

Aerinn shook his head stubbornly. "I'll not leave you. Either you're coming with me, or I'm staying." He motioned to the Gateway. "Does that thing still work?"

Cassandra pressed her lips together angrily, but managed to hold onto her temper. "Yes, it works, Aerinn. I've been down here feeding the fading glamour of the Resonant into it, so it would be ready for your journey. I sent a page to find you, but I guess you found me first." Aerinn started to say something, but she forestalled him with a finger to his lips. "Aerinn, we have different paths to walk, you and I. This is my freehold, and I'll not leave it. Go. Find your True Love. I hope she takes better care of you than I have." By the end, tears glistened in her eyes.

Aerinn hugged her as he felt stinging tears in his own eyes. "Don't.. Cassandra, we can work this out."

She shook her head. "Maybe we could have, once, but that is not to be. You must go soon. The Gateway will not remain open much longer."

Aerinn took a deep breath, let it out, sighing softly, then nodded. "If that is your wish..."

"It is. Oh Aerinn, I'm sorry," she wailed.

Aerinn took her chin gently in his hand. "We all make mistakes, Cassandra. I forgive you." He kissed her deeply and felt her arms wrap tightly around him. He leaned against her slightly, using her strength.

After long moments, Cassandra broke the kiss. She smiled into Aerinn's blue eyes. "It's too bad we don't have more time," she murmured. "I still feel bad about what happened."

Aerinn squeezed her. "We will," he said. With that he dropped to his knees before her, pulling out his sword. He sliced his hand with the blade, squeezed it into a tight fist. As his blood dripped onto the floor of the Core he said, "I, Sir Aerinn Moonwater, Defender of the Dream," she blinked at that, "swear oath to you, Cassandra Demones of House Eiluned before the Dreaming within this falling freehold that I shall return for you. Before one lunar year has gone by, I will return to this place and find you in whatever form you wear. If you still live and have fallen from the Dream, I will breathe the life of glamour into you once more. This I swear to do, lest the Dreaming take the breath from my body." Aerinn was a little surprised at how easily the words to the Oath came to his lips. He’d never made an Oath before, or at least, not in this lifetime.

Cassandra's eyes filled with tears. She took Aerinn's head in her hands and hugged him close, pressing his face into her stomach. She kissed his hair. "Thank you, Aerinn. My fate is in your hands." She smiled softly as he looked up into her eyes, bent down to kiss him tenderly. "Now go. Please. You don't have much time. I have put some things for you beside the Gateway."

Aerinn stood, took her in his arms, and kissed her one more time. "I will not forget you, Cassandra. And I will return. I promise." Cassandra nodded, smiled at him bravely. Aerinn gazed upon her, committing her features to memory. Then he turned, walked toward the Gateway, sheathing his sword as he went. He found a large bundle by the arch of stone. "What is this?"

"Food for your journey. I see you brought everything else you need."

Aerinn smiled a little. "I had a feeling. Where am I going?" he asked.

"I’m not sure," Cassandra said. "It’s not winter, so I cannot select the destination. You could wind up anywhere" She hugged Aerinn. "You’ll just have to trust Dán to guide your steps."

Aerinn nodded, smiled. "I’ll be alright, Cassandra. That seems the perfect way to begin my Quest."

Cassandra touched the archway, and the runes within the stone glowed with glamour. Aerinn felt the trod open as the Gateway filled with multicolored light. He turned to Cassandra. "Thank you. For everything."

Cassandra smiled through her tears, steeled her failing heart. "Don't forget what you've learned here, Aerinn. And godspeed on your Quest." She kissed him again, losing herself in his warmth, and then he was gone.

Aerinn for some reason was not surprised to see a majestic white stallion awaiting him on the other side of the Gateway. He smiled at the emblem of House Fiona on the saddle blanket. "Hello, boy," he said softly, patting the horse's flank as he tied Cassandra's bundle behind the saddle.

The horse looked back at him, snorted, blowing warm air that smelled of spring into Aerinn’s face. Aerinn smiled, stroking the horse’s velvety muzzle affectionately. "You sure do seem familiar to me, old friend," he says softly.

Aerinn sat the saddle of the horse he'd already decided to call Whitegold and watched the light in the Gateway fade. He was in a forest, stretching in all directions. The trees all appeared to be Linden trees. He smiled at that. His route along the trod was obvious. Some of the trees appeared to be made of silver rather than wood, and they all formed a line that stretched into the distance. "The silver path," Aerinn murmured to himself in awe. He had studied the Far Dreaming, but he had never been there. He smiled, breathing deeply of the clean forest air. It smelled of autumn.

Aerinn heeled Whitegold's flanks, and empowered the horse with a Quicksilver. Whitegold thundered down the Trod like the wind as the Gateway shattered behind them with a booming explosion.

"Goodbye Cassandra," Aerinn whispered to himself, the roaring wind of Whitegold’s glamour-enhanced gallop drowning out his words. "I will return for you." Whitegold snorted and Aerinn patted the horse's neck, turned his eyes to the trod in front of him, his Quest, and the future.