Chapter 23
Everything around him was blackish/gray.
Riven gazed left and right, noting with utter detachment that he was human again.
Before him, shrouded in the grayish swirl of mists, appeared both enchantresses.
With no sense of moving his body, Riven drifted close, as if he knew instinctively how to navigate this realm.
“Hello.” He noticed the words did not come from his mouth.
Tilisandre’s meadow-colored eyes beamed in the bleak surroundings, while her hair, today the color of summer skies, encircled her frame. She seemed to ask his unspoken question. “Yes, we are here for you.”
“Me? Did I not work hard enough in the former realm to earn your satisfaction?” It was as if Riven’s soul spoke, not his brain or mouth, for Riven had no knowledge of realms, current or former, and no words tumbled off his tongue. His words, like theirs, simply filled the air around them.
“You labored gloriously,” Tilisandre said, and she looked to her sister for confirmation.
Brumenhildr’s eyes glittered the color of uncertainty. Riven was not sure how he knew that, but he did.
“Brumenhildr? Your thoughts?”
“I did not think you would use the loophole. I did not think a human could love a frog.”
“I told you Bella was different,” Tilisandre said, elbowing her sister. “She figured it out the day she returned home.”
“She did?”
“Aye, clever that one is.”
The mist swirled and shifted a bit, allowing Riven to study the scene beneath them. Bella, his mother, and Henriette all huddled around a frog carcass. Dozens of peasants and villagers rested on their shovels, hats to their chest. “It appears they grieve for me.”
“It appears so,” Brumenhildr said, her voice flat in the still air.
“Since my sister did not honor the terms of her curse, we felt it only reasonable to give you a choice,” Tilisandre said.
“Honor the terms?” Riven echoed.
“Yes,” Tilisandre said, leveling a hard look to her sister.
“I watched Bella profess her love to you, yet you pushed her away, though the action cost you mightily. But when you used your last breath to return her affection, Brumenhildr was obligated by her own spell to return you to human form, but she didn’t. ”
“I didn’t see her profess her love,” Brumenhildr argued.
“You were supposed to be watching her. Neglect does not make it right.”
“I know, I know,” she said, waving a placating hand in her sister’s direction.
All this was truly interesting, but Riven was stuck, floating in a gray mist. “What do you wish of me, Great Ones?”
“Well,” Tilisandre said, her voice light and singsong. “What do you desire? You have labored hard and have earned your reward. The way I see it, you have three choices.”
His body bobbled backward and then forward as he hovered before them. “And they are?”
“One: You may say goodbye to this realm, for you are good and truly dead, courtesy of my negligent sister. You have earned eternal peace. Say the word, and you shall be set free.”
He glanced down at the crushed amphibian’s body. That must have hurt terribly during the moment he passed, but Riven in this form had no recollection.
“Option two?”
“Return and marry a woman of your father’s choosing.
He will see how you sacrificed yourself for the good of your people and will find you a quality wife.
You will marry a wealthy countess, have three children, and continue to rule in your father’s name.
This path will eventually lead you to a kingdom of your own. ”
“Will I be happy?”
“Happiness is overrated,” Brumenhildr said.
“You will find happiness in ruling your people fairly and kindly,” Tilisandre added.
“With no love shared between this wealthy wife and I.”
“That is correct,” Tilisandre agreed.
He stared at Bella, who leaned heavily on her friend’s shoulders. In this form, Riven held no emotion, yet he knew his soul was tied to hers. “Option three?”
“You return and marry Bella. Your father will fight you on this, naturally. For marrying a commoner, you will be forced to leave your family and your home. You will suffer great personal sacrifice before you finally settle into your new life in a new land.”
He considered his options. “Have Bella and I not suffered enough? Must we continue to struggle before being happy?”
The Great Ones exchanged looks, and for some reason, Riven knew they had an entire conversation between their minds, for their long glances were punctuated by gestures and irritated expressions.
“Fine. I will make this right, as my sister says this is my fault, and we do not want Mother’s attention on this.”
Riven knew not who their mother was, but she was fierce enough to settle two Great Ones into compromise.
“Look,” Brumenhildr said, pointing through the mists. “That is your brother, is it not?”
Riven bobbled his way to the thin veil in the mists to look down. “Yes, that is Luc.” He knew he should be angry at his brother for all the trouble he created, both today and every day of their lives, but Riven was blissfully free of emotion in this form.
“I think you have earned this bit of knowledge: I knew your brother was at fault from the beginning.”
Brumenhildr’s statement had Riven drifting backward in shock. “You knew, and you punished me anyway?”
Now she smiled, but it held a bit taunting in it.
“I needed to test your mettle, to see what manner of man you were at your core. I know exactly what a menace your half-brother will be to this village, but I needed to know if you were a man who would accept the mantle of responsibility. I am happy to see how you rose to the challenge.”
Still unmoored, Riven floated back and forth with the knowledge. “Why punish me and not Luc? You made me frantic trying to fix everything. And then you stomped on me!” Devoid of emotion or not, facts were facts, and Riven wanted answers.
“I cannot uncurse you from a changed form. Killing you as a frog was the only way to allow you to return to your human self. And I did not punish you instead of Luc; I merely tested you. My ponds and waters are suffering under your father and half-brother, and these lands need someone who will tend them and not abuse them. When my lands and waters suffer, I grow weak. And I do not like being weak. It makes me angry.”
“I can certainly understand that,” Riven admitted.
A sound of disgust floated from Brumenhildr’s lips. “Your brother is urinating in my fresh pond!” The enchantress vanished from their gray realm and appeared on the shore beside Luc. With an angry wave, Luc’s body shrunk and flopped on the shore, his body transformed into a fat fish.
Riven watched everyone around the pond gasp at the enchantress’s actions.
“You punish him with no warning?” Tilisandre chastised, appearing beside her sister on the new pond’s shoreline.
“He was warned. Luc looked me straight in the eyes and swore Riven was the cause of the pollution.
I warned Luc that the guilty party would pay the price, and he assured me ‘twas Riven at fault.” She looked into the gray realm where Riven still floated and said, “And then he told me where to find the singing prince.”
A young boy of about five raced up to the flopping fish as he eyed the Great Ones, hooked Luc by the gill, and kindly settled the writhing creature into the water.
Now Brumenhildr smiled and waved her hand, sending dozens of similar fish into the fresh water.
“There. You may alert your king that his vile son has been turned into a tasty trout. Luc has no legs or arms to create a floating castle, and among his school, he is undistinguishable. Killing the wrong one will end the royal lineage.”
Riven watched as everyone in attendance exchanged shocked looks. Then the Great Ones returned to him in the gray mist, still awaiting his answer.
“Will Luc be given an opportunity to rectify his wrongdoings?” Riven asked.
“I have not decided yet.”
“Is he able to speak?” he pressed.
“I have not decided yet.”
Riven watched as one fish kept popping his head out of the water to watch those on the shore. He wiggled and danced, but no one paid him any attention.
“Someone should tell Luc that sticking his head out of the water is a perfect way to get snatched up by a falcon.”
Brumenhildr almost smiled. “Yes, yes. Someone probably should tell him that.”
“Sister!” Tilisandre chastised. “You know you cannot simply curse someone and walk away from them without setting limits or expectations. Do it now.”
“Fine,” Brumenhildr grumbled.
Riven watched sparkles dance and sway in conjunction with Brumenhildr’s words, though he was unable to discern any of them. When the glittering lights faded, Riven asked, “May I be privileged to know what you decided?”
“Twenty-six years as a fish.”
“Twenty-six! That is his precise age.”
“Exactly. I wager it will take him a lifetime to unlearn his foul behavior. If he learns to respect the pond, and all the creatures in it, he shall emerge just the same as the day he left.”
“My elder half-brother will then be my younger one.”
“Is that a problem?”
“Of course not.”
Tilisandre drifted closer at this. “What is your decision, Riven?”
He considered his options. “So, with Luc out of the way, there will be no royal lineage unless I marry.”
“Yes.”
Riven smiled at the Great Ones. “So mote it be.”
Everything sucked in around him until none of the gray remained.
Within a second, he found himself standing at the back of the group.
He took a moment to absorb the sights, scents, feel of being back in his human form.
Of those in attendance, half were in shock as they stared at the fresh trout schooling about in the new pond.
Riven was not going to be able to punch Luc in the nose at this rate, but he was glad his wretched half-brother was finally sentenced to some justice.
The rest of those standing between the ponds were weeping and focused on the three women in the center, as he was.
He'd done it. He’d broken the curse.