The memory of sinking her fingers into the metal was fresh in her mind, a thing done so easily and naturally it wasn’t worth thinking about. But now seeing the damage she wondered how it was even possible.
“I think you’ve improved it,” said Ejan, approaching from behind, so silent that it startled Elora. “Ragna thinks otherwise but he has no taste. How are you feeling today?”
“Much better, thanks” she replied. Ejan smiled but said nothing. Her eyes hard and unreadable as she wandered over to the kitchen door but Elora noticed that the smile was forced as if the Viking had something on her mind.
“There’s bread in the kitchen if you’re hungry,” she said, pushing the door open, her hand gripping the wood as she turned back to Elora. “Oh, and if you hurt my husband again, I’ll Kill you.”
The door swung shut, the echo it made resonating around the empty room. Kill her...Kill her...Elora, kill.
The whispers touched her ears, she felt them drawing her towards the door Ejan had left through. Kill her. How dare she threaten her, the stupid bitch. You can’t kill the darkness.
Elora took a step towards the kitchen, fingers flexing, imagining gripping the Norsewoman’s long blonde plait and curling it around her neck, pulling it tight, choking her. Killing her – No! What was she thinking, this wasn’t her? It was the darkness. Those whispers putting evil intent into her thoughts, her mind. Was it because she felt threatened by the woman? Ejan had every right to warn her off, she had tried to kill her husband, after all.
Elora stormed out of the inn, the heavy oak door scraping against the floor. ...Elora.... She slammed it behind her. ...Kill.... And walked out into the cold rain, putting distance between herself and the inn, worried that she was becoming the beast she was yesterday, worried she would kill everyone inside.
Her bare feet squelched against the wet ground, splashing through puddles, the water throwing muddy droplets up her legs...Kill... Kill... The words falling from the sky, bouncing from leaves, her blood thundering in her ears, a maelstrom of voices shouting her name. She screamed to block them out as she pushed through the tree line. But under the branches, the thick leaves blotting out any light the clouds gave up, darkness ruled and opened its wide arms to embrace its daughter.
Soft white ash clung to the skin on the back of Elora’s hand, it cracked in dark fissures when she unclenched her fist, making her skin appear aged beyond that of the burnt trees around her. It floated about her like snow, coating the smouldering stumps and wood pulp that were once large oaks, elms and birch. It layered the scorched ground, burying her bare feet ankle deep as grey smoke played off the few remaining trunks, bereft of limbs, no more than charcoal tomb stones spanning away from her in a circle with her at its centre. What had she done?
Elora tentatively stepped through the pristine layer of ash, a serene peacefulness embracing her, relief at being released from something unbearable, a heavy pressure, pain, an intense heat that suddenly lifted; leaving her feeling euphoric, cleansed.
Was the destruction her way of releasing the temper, born of the whispered darkness that had been plaguing her since the awakening? Must she release her anger and reduce everything to white ash to rid herself of the darkness?
She left a black trail in her wake; dark footprints that followed her out, further into the wet green forest. Was it a sign, letting her know that below the calm white surface there was blackness?
The whispers; the thousand voices were gone now, but they would be back and most probably sooner than she had care for to needle at her, wanting her to release carnage, destruction, to kill. If she couldn’t find a way of controlling her temper somebody would get hurt. Somebody would die.
The day began to get dark, the patches of sky she could see through the breaks in the trees turning a purplish bruise colour, the storm abating but rain water still working its way to the forest floor from the tall branches and leaves.
She had been wandering aimlessly through the trees, too afraid to return to the inn, in fear of causing harm to others, but knowing that if she didn’t they would come in search of her. Elora’s mind was so preoccupied she hadn’t realised that she’d come upon the fallen tree where she had shared that kiss with Bray. Recognition only dawning on her as her eyes found those of Bray’s, so green it was like the forest was staring back as he sat, elbows on knees upon the tree stump he had split the logs from a couple of days ago.
Elora could feel her heart thump once again as she stepped closer to him, beating stronger with what, love, lust, or anger? All three or just something more primal, her black heart’s reaction to the sensation of danger.
“Hi,” she said, squeezing onto the stump beside him, their arms touching, his wet from the rain, hers oddly dry. The sound of him grinding his teeth, adding to the pluck plucking sounds of water dripping from leaf to leaf, filling the gap until he spoke.
“Diagus is going to kill you,” he said matter-of-factly. “Even if Solarius falls. He will kill you. Me too.” His warm hand slid into hers, fingers interlacing as his grip tightened.
Elora didn’t reply. In the back of her mind she already had thoughts of what the Shadojak meant to do with her but somehow pushed them away, not wanting to think about something that was out of her control.
She looked down at his hand in hers, feeling his thumb gently stroking the tender skin between thumb and wrist. She wanted to enjoy his touch, his warmth, yet didn’t know if she could take the pain if he decided to become the Shaigun once again.
“Why would he kill you?” Elora asked.
“Because he would need to come through me to get to you,” he answered, turning his face to hers, rain water gathering in his dark hair and causing it to spike up above his brow.
“Why?”
“I love you. Love you more than both worlds, it seems.” He leaned closer, their faces almost touching, meaning to kiss her, his eyes intense and alive. Yet when she didn’t bring her mouth to his, his expression changed, lips tightened and he planted the kiss tenderly on her forehead. When he pulled back she could tell it wasn’t the reaction he wanted, his hand relaxed around hers, allowing her to let go. She didn’t.
“I’m scared I’ll hurt you,” she admitted. The damage she caused in the forest too clear in her mind.
Bray shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t hurt like most people.”
“And I don’t attack like most. I almost killed you yesterday, if you haven’t forgotten.”
He rubbed his jaw with his free hand. “I remember, but I heal really quick.”
“Not if I kill you, not if I tear your head off. Maybe Diagus is right and I’m too dangerous to let loose, once my father is dead.” She lowered her head to his shoulder and he put an arm protectively around her.
“We can run away together, hide anywhere on Earth or Thea. We’ll go where Diagus will never find us.”
“No. I still need to stop my father and to do that I need the Shadojak and my uncle and most probably Zionbuss. If Solarius isn’t stopped it doesn’t matter where we go, Earth will suffer, and I can’t let that happen.”
“Then we will stop him ourselves. Find a way into Aslania without them.”
Elora shook her head, hearing the desperate plea in his voice and not liking it. “We won’t make it. We may not even make it with the rest, but I won’t go without them. If I die trying to bring my father down, then so be it. I gave my word to Diagus and I won’t go back on it.” Elora’s gaze settled on the light limbs of an elm in front, swaying in a breeze, creaking, whispering...Elora...Elora.
“You say you love me. So, in the name of love I ask that you do one thing for me. And I want you to promise me that you will see it through.” Bray stiffened, his hands grasping hers tightly once again. “Anything.”
She met his eyes, stared straight into his, holding his intense green gaze.
“If I change, if I can’t control my temper and hurt people.” She leaned closer. “Kill me.”
He leapt from the stump and spun around, flinging his arms wide.
“What? No, I can’t. I won’t,” he snapped, hands balling into fists at his side. Elora looked away for a moment, gathering herself, controlling her temper that seemed to rise with the growing darkness. Whispers born of rustling leaves, creaking limbs and birdsong...Kill...Kill. She took a deep breath, drawing in air, thick with moisture. Holding it for a moment before slowly releasing. She gazed back at Bray, still staring at her intensely, oblivious to her struggle with her rising anger.
“I love you too,” she said and watched his features soften, fingers unclench. “But this will only work if I know you’ll kill me if I needed you to. I wanted to destroy you yesterday, my uncle too. Earlier I wanted to strangle Ejan, I wanted to kill her, and I came this close.” She held up her finger and thumb an inch apart, “from doing it. I know if I allow my temper to get the better of me I will destroy anything in my path, burning everything to ash, I am my father’s daughter in that. So please, if you love me, you will Kill me.” She watched his jaw tighten, his head drop, then he fell to his knees before her. He gently took her hand in his.
