41
Unable to sleep, Lil tossed and turned in bed. The idea of time travel continued to torment her. The island had always been her horizon. Beaches and reefs were the borders of her universe. Rarely had she even gone out to sea with a fisherman. Only a few times had she dreamt of faraway lands, warm places she had heard about in fairytales, inhabited by people of all races wearing different colors of clothes.
But the thought of going back to the past terrorized her. They would have to visit a time when most of their people had been exterminated, the survivors forced to escape by sea. There were so many unknowns. Perhaps they, too, would get caught up in the massacre. Maybe they wouldn't be able to come back and would stay, trapped in a time full of turmoil and hardship. They could even get killed.
She trusted Miril, but her theories on the branches of time were almost impossible to grasp. She wondered if Miril was fully aware of what she was doing, but she didn't want to doubt her wisdom.
And then there was Bashinoir, increasingly distant and lost in his own world. The more she tried to get closer to him, the further he pulled away. He wasn't the same man she used to know. The situation hardly created the ideal conditions for taking this kind of trip. In any case, he had to come with them, they needed his strength. Who knows what they'd come up against. It would be almost impossible to work in three; in two, however, it was unthinkable.
She had lost almost everyone and everything in her life, and now, the little that remained, reconstructed with so much difficulty, was again about to slip away from her grasp.
“Lil.” Miril called quietly, from the other side of the door.
“Yes?”
“You can't sleep, can you?”
“No.”
“Neither can I.”
Lil got up. Walking across the cold floor, she hurried to open the door and invited Miril in.
Miril was wearing a gauzy white dressing gown. She entered, passing the crackling fire which lit the room up with warm colors, spreading a pleasant warmth throughout the room. She knew how much Lil hated the cold.
Though she was very tired, Miril appeared to be as lucid as ever, unlike Lil, who felt discombobulated all the time.
Smiling, Miril sat on the edge of the bed. Lil imitated her.
“I know you never expected to be put to such a difficult test. You're afraid, and it's right that you should be. I, too, am terrified. Believe me, if there was another way, I'd be happy to avoid such a risky voyage. But unfortunately there is no other way, or at least, no other way I can think of. Despite all of the dangers that lie ahead, we have to leave. Our understanding of magic will help whenever our experience fails us.”
The calm, sedate tone of voice filled the young woman's troubled mind with a sense of serenity.
“Lil, I want to tell you something.” Miril paused, staring at the fire.
Her uncertainty rekindled Lil's own anxiety from a few moments earlier.
“We've overcome, and we're still facing some very difficult trials. What happened on our island is horrific, and you can't imagine how much I regret not having predicted what happened, and not setting up the right defenses. At any rate,” again a long pause, “at any rate, during the course of this tragedy, I discovered something I never would have suspected. A beautiful feeling that helped me to salvage the tiniest bit of happiness.”
Lil was curious. She realized her heart was racing. A crazy idea, immediately repressed by her own shame, flashed through her mind.
Miril let out a little sigh. Lil blushed.
“It's been really nice, spending these past few weeks with you,” Miril said, timid, yet her words flowing out quickly, as if she wanted to relieve herself of a weight.
Lil was shocked. Those words didn't bother her, but suddenly everything seemed upside-down.
“Sorry,” Miril said, confused. “I know that you've been married to him for so long and I...I mean, I would never...”
Miril got up, turned and headed towards the door.
“Wait!” Lil said, forcing herself to seem calm as a storm whirled inside of her soul.
When Miril turned around, Lil realized she was crying. Uncertain, she got up and took a few steps towards her. She had no idea what to say or do. Miril froze. She was still crying. She looked as beautiful as ever. Like a goddess.
Lil took another step. Miril seemed to be waiting for her, then she, too, started to move. She daintily held her hand out in front of her and Lil took it in her own.
The two women embraced, holding each other close, their heads resting on each other's shoulders.
“Thanks, Lil. You helped me understand a type of magic that has transformed me, turned me into a different person. Since you've come here, my life has changed.”
Lil could sense the years of solitude, the heavy burdens, the strict discipline, and the harsh training that had been Miril's life.
She looked up. The two women's eyes locked. Imperceptibly, Lil's face moved closer to Miril's, who was still crying.
“Miril, you don't need to apologize for how you feel about me.”
The priestess looked at her, confused: “Apologize?”
“I...” Lil continued, embarrassed. “I mean, I thought that a priestess couldn't...”
Miril smiled. “Oh, sure. Priests can't have relations with people from the outside, to avoid disrupting their levels of vital energies. But, among each other, I mean...there's no problem.”
Lil's jaw dropped. She never would have imagined that such a rule would have been invented. “So, you and the priest...?” she asked tentatively.
The priestess's face lit up with a lively expression: “Oh no! Just because we can doesn't mean we have to.”
“Sure, right, right,” Lil hurried to say, feeling that she shouldn't have asked such bold questions.
“And then,” Miril added, looking away. “I never had to force myself to repress my emotions towards men. When it came to women, however...” she looked down.
Lil felt her face flush. It must be very difficult for the priestess to be so open with her. She brought her face closer to Miril's and brushed her lips against the woman's mouth. Miril looked up. Her eyes burned, her hands pressed against Lil's back. Something very deep moved in the young woman's soul, something that no man had ever made her feel before.
“Miril, if you want, you can. It would make me happy.”
“Are you sure, Lil?”
The young woman nodded.
Miril's lips sweetly pressed against Lil's, resting there for a little while. They broke away for a moment, then reunited.
“Oh, Lil…”
Lil abandoned herself to her friend's sweet passion, wondering if it was Miril's first kiss. She wanted to taste the flavor of her mouth, but restrained herself.
They stood, holding each other, their lips chasing after the other's mouth.
“Good night,” Miril finally said.
Lil didn't want the priestess to stop with that kiss. But she only replied: “Good night, Miril.”
Miril lowered her head and brought the back of Lil's hands to her mouth, kissing them. Then she turned and left.
42
The young apprentice Ilis walked through the palace courtyard, lost in his own thoughts. The master was rather satisfied with him, and it seemed like even the king was happy with the progress they had made. Yet he wasn't too thrilled with the role he was playing.
They had already exterminated almost everyone on that island. Why did they have to terrorize the poor survivors? If their magic rites really did keep the barrier intact and isolate their people from the rest of the world, couldn't there be another way to reach the same goal? He wondered if it would be possible to communicate with the survivors in another manner, to persuade them to do what they wanted. After the storm of rock shards his master Aldin had arranged, he didn't think it was possible to establish peaceful relations with the islanders, but their position of extreme weakness could, perhaps, make them a little more willing to negotiate. Re
ally, what future awaited them if they stayed there alone? Wouldn't they perhaps be better off in the company of those with whom they used to share their lands, once upon a time?
He felt sorry for that man on the island, so lost and isolated. He wished he could help him instead of manipulating him into murdering another person.
A pleasant song roused him from his reflections. Through a window in the room underneath a little arcade, he saw a woman's silhouette, bent over her embroidery. She sang a folk song, one of the tunes his nurse used to sing to him when he was still a little boy.
Intrigued, he opened the small wooden door and walked into the room, where he saw Milia, the king's young wife. He had attended their unusual evening ceremony a few weeks earlier. It had been organized hastily, and the absence of the bride's father made it seem all the more strange.
As the apprentice entered, the song stopped.
“Pardon me, I didn't mean to disturb you, my lady,” the young man apologized.
Milia's eyes pierced through him. “You didn't disturb me. And just call me Milia. Until a few weeks ago I was a simple servant girl. I'm having a hard time getting used to my new royal rank.”
Still standing in the doorway, Ilis observed her cautiously: “I imagine it's a position that has its benefits.”
Milia replied sadly: “Oh yes, of course. Many benefits, such as having to satisfy the perversions of a furious madman every night.”
Ilis' face flushed. He had never heard anyone talk about King Beanor in that way, much less in a room of the palace.
He came forward, scolding her gently: “What do you mean? Being the king's wife is what every young lady in the kingdom dreams of.”
Milia stared at him for a few seconds and then began weeping, covering her face with her hands.
“What's wrong?”
“I hate him!” she explained between sobs. “And I hate this position. It's horrendous. Before I had to work, but I had real friends. I had my family. And...him.”
“Him? Him who?” Ilis' eyes grew wide.
Milia just cried harder.
“Shhh!” Ilis motioned for her to stop crying. “They might hear us.”
“So what?” Milia retorted, her face wet with tears. “Let them hear me! What, I can't even cry around here?” Her accusatory tone almost made Ilis feel as if he were the cause of all her problems.
Embarrassed, the young man came closer to her. He wanted to help her, but she just kept crying. “Come on, now, maybe we can do something to make you feel better,” he said, uncertain.
“What? What? The other wives hate me. They act like the king is just a big toy. They all look at me as if I were the millionth whore the king decided to fuck because he liked her ass. What solution is there? I'm alone, completely alone, and I don't have anyone anymore.”
Ilis didn't know what to do, so he just watched her cry. People said the king had decided to marry her merely hours after seeing her for the first time. Now Ilis understood why.
“I'm here for you,” he reassured her in a burst of courage, not knowing how those words had managed to come out of his own mouth.
Milia looked at him, her eyes swollen and glassy. “You? You want to be my friend?”
“Of course. It would be an honor.”
The girl got up, came towards him and threw her arms around his neck.
43
“I can't take it anymore!” Milia howled. “He's nasty, cruel, perverted and sadistic. I don't want to spend another night in his company.”
Despite the thick walls surrounding the underground room, Ilis feared that someone would hear them. “Come on now, calm down.”
“Calm down? You don't have to spend your nights satisfying that pig! I'm done! I'd rather die than go on in this way.”
Ilis felt his blood freeze. “Now Milia, don't go around saying those sorts of things.”
She collapsed onto a leather couch and, with a candle, lit the formir, a long pipe in which burned the leaves of a very rare tree. Only the most important dignitaries of the court could enjoy the luxury of smoking.
Milia liked meeting with Ilis in this place, not to mention the pleasure of relaxing in a space far from prying eyes.
After a few puffs, the young woman had calmed down. She inhaled again, held the smoke in her lungs and exhaled.
Milia turned towards Ilis: “Want to try?” she asked, giving him a smile.
“Oh no, no thanks. I don't think my master would be very happy with me if I did.”
“Your master isn't here now. It's just me and you. Sure you don't want to? You have no idea how nice it is.”
Ilis sat down next to her. “Well, Milia, generally apprentices have to abstain from all vices while they're studying magic.”
“Says who?” Milia challenged him, mockingly. “I don't see how a moment of pleasure can cause any problems with your magical education.”
Milia took a deep inhale and exhaled in Ilis' direction. He smelled the aroma of the scented smoke.
“Come on, just try it. A little puff won't cause any problems,” Milia coaxed, giving him a wink.
Ilis was pretty sure that this was forbidden. But, then again, he had never actually been explicitly told not to smoke. Besides, those leaves were nearly impossible to find, so they weren't going to cause him any long-term problems. Furthermore, a wizard was supposed to learn as much as he could about the real world around him.
He bent down towards the mouthpiece, hesitant.
Milia pushed it between his lips. “Good job. Now breathe in. Hold it, hold it...and now let it all out.”
He coughed. Tears came to his eyes and his head immediately started spinning, but he felt much lighter. His problems and anxieties disappeared. Milia, sitting with both her legs up on the couch, looked even more enticing to him.
She took a large mouthful for herself, then handed him the mouthpiece. Ilis didn't hesitate this time.
When the embers of the formir stopped burning, both of them laid back with their heads resting on the couch pillows. Ilis, feeling more relaxed than he had ever been, watched Milia's chest rise and fall as she breathed.
“This is so nice. Too bad we both have to go back to our bosses soon. I wish we didn't have to live this way.”
Ilis watched her lips open and close.
“You're a wizard. You should be able to put an end to all of this.”
Ilis was lost in the brilliant blue of those eyes, as wide as the sky.
“Did you hear what I just said?” Milia scolded him, her voice louder.
The apprentice snapped out of it: “What? Who?”
“I said that you should be able to put an end to all of our suffering. Would you do it? For me?”
What wouldn't I do for her! the young man thought, without understanding what Milia was talking about.
“I'll do whatever you want me to do. What do you want, Milia?” Ilis asked, lost in the darkness of her pupils.
“I want you to free us from the king!”
44
Satisfied, Beanor stroked his unkempt beard. “Interesting. So we'll use this Bashinoir to eliminate the priestess who's the only one still keeping the island's protections active,” he summarized.
Obolil, sitting on a chair at the foot of the stairs leading up to the throne, responded: “Exactly, your Majesty. Through the astral dimension, we were able to get to the barrier, and from there we projected a shadow all the way to the island. Using the shadow, we've been able to communicate telepathically with this man, who feels very isolated and alone. So -”
“Yes, yes, I understand. Don't waste my time with all these explanations. When will everything be taken care of?”
Ilis, standing next to Obolil, couldn't resist the impulse to look up towards his master, who was clearly irritated by the interruption.
“Your Majesty,” the old wizard explained. “This type of manipulation takes time. If we rush things along too quickly-”
“Words, words, words. For as long as I can remember it
's been nothing but words! I've been waiting decades for you to resolve this. How much more time can it possibly take to eliminate two or three survivors?”
Tuirl, sitting to Obolil's left, intervened: “Your Majesty, I think the plan developed by our wizards is excellent on all accounts and, from what they've reported, I don't think we'll be waiting much longer.”
Beanor threw his advisor a disgusted look. “Do you have any idea how many times you've asked me to wait? Wait, wait, wait. If you had it your way, I'd do nothing but wait! Your advice has led us nowhere, all we do is waste our lives on this frozen and inhospitable land, just like our ancestors before us. At least Aldin managed to get something done.”
Hearing those words, Obolil flushed with humiliation. A loud coughing fit rattled through his battered body.
“Your Majesty,” Ilis interjected, unable to restrain himself. The eyes of the king and the advisor stared at him, menacing. It was the first time the young apprentice had ever dared to speak. “It really won't take very long. Communicating with Bashinoir, I can feel the emotions of a man destroyed by guilt, by isolation, and by the thirst for revenge. His ex-wife is now a novice, serving the priestess. He feels alone. I managed to make him believe that what happened was all the priestess's fault and - ”
“Did you say that you communicated with this Bashinoir?” Beanor asked warily.
“Your Majesty,” Obolil interrupted, his voice cracking.
“I wasn't talking to you! Answer me, boy!”
Tuirl saw Obolil grit his teeth.
“Y-yes,” Ilis replied. “I followed the master's instructions.”
“Ah, very well! So the master considers it unworthy of his time to accompany you on these little trips?”
Ilis placed his hand on the back of the chair. It no longer seemed as if his legs were going to support him. Obolil tried to move his neck back to look at him yet failed, due to a lack of flexibility.