Twelve
CHAPTER
That was the thing about history, it tended to repeat itself and for some reason, I found myself shell-shocked. I was shaking, I knew I was, but somehow, I felt nothing and everything all at the same time.
I wasn’t supposed to be here. When I initially snuck out of bed, it was to go find Neil.
I had those nightmares again. The ones about before, from the day I died.
He told me that if I ever awoke afraid, I should find him and that was exactly what I was trying to do.
I needed him. I didn’t expect him to be in his throne room at such a late hour.
I didn’t know what I was expecting when I walked in wearing a skimpy silk little nightgown, but it most certainly wasn’t this.
“You didn’t take care of it, so you left me with no choice,” someone hissed, a voice I did not recognize.
“You have no idea what you have done, Casimir. Keep your voice down, she’s sleeping. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. You said you wouldn’t do anything without consulting me first, yet you did it anyway. It is not your place. Do you have any idea what you have done?” Neil replied all too calmly.
“I don’t care if she is sleeping or not. He attempted to scale the Wall!” he shouted, his voice echoing into the hall.
Silence. The room went completely silent just as the door creaked open as I accidentally leaned on it.
My clammy hands shook, and I felt my face pale, unsure of what to do now that they knew I was there.
I felt the chicken noodle soup I had for dinner rise in my throat, and, nearly gagging, I swallowed it back down into my stomach.
The stench of blood filled my nostrils, dripping onto the marble flooring from across the room.
My eyes were immediately drawn to the gruesome sight before me.
In the hands of a man I did not know was the decapitated head of my father.
His eyes were rolled back into his head, a look of fear frozen on his pale and lifeless face. Blood pooled around his severed neck, dripping onto the marble floor in a pool beneath him.
My heart pounded in my chest, struggling to process the horror of what I was seeing. The visceral shock was sent to my senses. Nausea and disbelief came to the forefront of my mind. I couldn’t breathe. My chest tightened, tears welling into the corners of my eyes.
Sorrow, anger, and confusion all bubbled from within me. But above it all, guilt. I couldn’t help but be to blame for his death. Somehow, this was my fault, too.
Why would he come looking for me? After all this time?
The image was forever burned into my memory, a stark reminder of how cruel the world truly was.
I didn’t understand, I couldn’t. Just weeks ago, Neil had me write to him to let him know I was okay, and now, he was dead.
“Aerilyn,” Neil’s voice called out to me.
Silence. All I could do was stand in silence until my knees buckled and gave way as I collapsed onto the marble flooring.
“Aerilyn, please.” Neil sounded closer than he was before, but I didn’t dare look at him. I couldn’t look away from him, from his severed head and the blood that dripped from it.
I didn’t understand why they would do this. How they could do this.
“W-why?” I asked. “I-I don’t understand.” My lip quivered. My body shook vigorously, tears pooling down my cheeks.
The man that I loved with all my heart and soul let my father be killed.
Slowly, my eyes went to the man. That hair, those clothes. I nearly choked on my own saliva, swallowing hard. I recognized that man the more I looked at him. He was the one that met with Samael the day I died.
Suddenly, he dropped my father’s severed head, tossing it onto the floor. It made an unsettling squelching sound before rolling toward me. It stopped once it hit my knees. I lost it then and there as my heart shattered into a million pieces. I wailed, hysterically.
Neil attempted to console me by wrapping his arms around me. I pushed him away in response. “DO NOT TOUCH ME!” I choked out between hysterical sobs. “Don’t—”
“Shh.” Neil pulled me back against him, but I attempted to kick and push him away. He forcefully grabbed my cheeks. “Look at me, look at me,” he demanded, his voice deep with a tone of dominance. I looked at him with bloodshot eyes. His thumbs brushed away the tears.
“Crying for what you lost won’t bring it back. He’s gone and I am sorry you had to see him like this, but it’s for the best, Aerilyn. Don’t you see? We did this to protect you. You weren’t supposed to know. This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
Those words echoed in my mind. You weren’t supposed to know. What does he mean? Was he simply not going to ever tell me if I hadn’t walked in on this? Why would he do such a thing to begin with? I thought he loved me.
“Stupid, stupid girl, you have no idea the things I’ve done for you. To protect you,” he whispered, his thumbs still brushing away my tears as they fell. “Why can’t you see that I do these things for your own good.” He exhaled.
Neil pulled away. I didn’t look at him when he did, unable to wrap my head around what was happening. He stood tall, looking down at me with soft eyes. “Casimir.” Neil paused, diverting his eyes to him.
I recognized that name then, even in my grief, I remembered what Aradia had said.
That name, his clothes, those sharp red eyes; he was the High Lord of the Realm of Nightmares.
If I wasn’t so beside myself, maybe I would have questioned what business he had with Samael that day.
I was so consumed by grief and sorrow, that it tore me apart, ripping me to shreds from the inside out. I could feel it.
He’s dead. He’s dead. He’s dead. He’s gone. He didn’t have his glasses. He can’t see without his glasses. Where is the rest of his body?
“He can’t see without his glasses,” I choked out. My thoughts drifted back to the last memories I shared with him. The crinkles of his eyes, the smile on his face, and the glasses he always wore. Those memories were so close yet so far from my reach.
I was pulled from my torturous thoughts when I realized Casimir and Neil were arguing.
Neil shared a loaded look with Casimir, who then said, “Tell her.”
“No!” Neil spat back.
“Tell her. She deserves to know,” Casimir hissed.
“Know what?” I asked between hitched breaths. “Know WHAT?!” I raised my voice despite how much it hurt to do so.
Acheron rushed to my side, grabbing my forearm and attempting to help steady me. The rest of the room faded away. I stared up at Neil and Casimir.
Casimir looked down at me with sympathetic eyes. Neil said nothing at all.
“Tell her,” Casimir repeated. “If you won’t, I will.”
Neil turned away from me. Silence filled the room. He looked ashamed. I couldn’t piece together why or what was happening.
Casimir knelt down to my height with his fiery red eyes locked on mine.
“Your father gathered a search party, one that turned into a revolution. His followers attempted to bring down the Wall to find you. He nearly started a war between Wisteria and the Mortal Realm, all over wanting to find you and bring you back. Blabbering about how you were taken here against your will. He had no idea that you died.”
I shook my head, and Acheron held me tighter. “He wouldn’t do that. Even if he did, he didn’t deserve to die. Who are you to act as if you are the Gods?” I asked between sobs. Casimir reached for me and forcefully grabbed me by my arm, pulling me closer to him and away from Acheron.
He clicked his tongue. “You know, you have a habit of poking your nose where it doesn’t belong. That’s what got you here in the first place. As far as you are concerned, Neil and I are your Gods.”
“Stop,” Neil demanded, attempting to reach for me, but Casimir pulled me back. I slipped from Acheron, and Casimir’s arm drifted across my chest, forcing me onto my feet. He held me firmly against him. I sobbed harder.
I can’t believe this is happening.
Kicking and screaming, I demanded for him to let go.
I begged and pleaded. Aradia stood there, watching in horror.
Acheron attempted to take a step toward me, his hand outstretched for mine, but Neil stopped him with a firm hand around his wrist. Neil’s eyes were apologetic, and he clenched his jaw.
“We tried your way, and it didn’t work. Now, we are going to try mine,” Casimir hissed.
“NOOO!” Neil yelled desperately, suddenly reaching out for me.
Nothing made sense anymore. Not a single thing. Casimir had already tossed stardust onto the ground with his free hand, and we were no longer in the Realm of Clouds.
“LET ME GO!” I yelled between sobs, kicking and screaming.
Casimir dragged me across the room. The sky above was shrouded in black clouds and a sense of dread lingered in the air around me.
I didn’t need to look at my surroundings to know where I was.
The scent of burning magma and seeing the black obsidian walls was enough for me to know that Casimir had brought me to the Realm of Nightmares.
“Stop resisting, foolish girl,” Casimir hissed, dragging me through the dark hallway and down the steps into the dungeons.
Cells lined either side of the halls, with walls made of sharp jagged rocks and obsidian.
The only light came from the candles that were wedged between the stones, spaced out every few feet.
He pushed me forward and toward the two guards who stood at the very bottom of the stairs.
They wore dark armor made of scales and iron.
My attempt at fighting back was futile. They held me down with an iron grip, dragging me into the cell at the end of the hall, one without candles.
Shrouded in darkness, they locked a chain around my right ankle so tightly that every movement I made rubbed my skin raw.
“Let me go,” I pleaded.
They didn’t. They slammed the door shut, locking it behind them. They left me alone in that soot-covered cell. I cried and cried, but no one came. Not Acheron, not Neil, no one.
I was completely and utterly alone in this world just like I was in the last.
The hours ticked by.
I cried for my father who I would never see again.
I cried for Acheron, for Aradia, for Neil.
I cried while attempting to rip the chain off my ankle.
I cried as I tried to squeeze between the bars.
I cried until I had no tears left to cry.
I felt numb. Hopeless. Devastated. Huddled up against the small, barred window, I gazed out through the bars.
I could see rivers of molten lava flowing through the landscape, glowing a sinister red that snaked within the twisted and jagged terrain.
If I hadn’t been kidnapped, I might have found the mystery of this Realm endearing.
Instead, it was a prison. I watched black dragons soar through the sky, their scales glimmering the same obsidian as the walls that confined me.
Their eyes glowed red and their wings were larger than I could have ever imagined.
They were such beautiful creatures. A young dragon, who appeared to be about three feet in length, approached the small crevice I considered a window.
Glowing red eyes stared at me for a few moments, only to pull away.
“Wow,” I whispered in adoration.
I never thought I would see a dragon, not in my past life nor this one. I wondered how their scales felt to touch, or what it would be like to soar across the sky above on their back.
I supposed it didn’t matter. No matter how many times I replayed what happened, I couldn’t wrap my head around it. My father wouldn’t even receive a proper burial, or a proper blessing, either. He would become a lost soul because of them; because of me.
His spirit couldn’t go to the Realm of the Passed without a proper burial, everyone knew that. There were reasons that things were done a certain way, and while my father would be trapped aimlessly wandering the land as a ghost, I was trapped here in this cell.
It just didn’t make sense.
“Here,” I heard a voice whisper from the darkness. I could see a dimly lit hand in the distance.
My head turned to the direction of the voice, and I approached by crawling on the soot-covered ground, the chain scraping with every movement. He knelt to my level, holding out a single piece of what looked to be cornbread.
“Take it,” he whispered.
I hesitated, but only for a second. I was so hungry, I almost snatched it from his hands. I took a bite, and then another, and when I realized how famished I was, I devoured the rest.
“You’ll need your strength. Try to rest,” he said, his voice soft and just above a whisper.
In the dim light, I studied what I could make of his appearance—red hair and fiery red eyes to match, pointy ears, and velvet attire of red and black with intricate embroidery. I didn’t know who he was, but he had to have some sort of importance or authority to be dressed like that.
“Who are you?” I asked.
He didn’t reply. Instead, he pulled away, leaving me alone with my thoughts once more.