Page 120 of Awakening

As he sat hunched and clinging to life under the yellow and green canopy of linden trees, a numbing sensation steadily moved across his ashen gray skin. He no longer felt the gentle breeze wafting against his skin. No longer felt the moist earth beneath his palms or the finely fissured bark of the tree against which he leaned. No longer felt the softness of her fingertips caressing the back of his hand.

Drifting in and out of consciousness, his thoughts focused on anger and vengeance. He had been left to die in the world of men, stripped of his honor and dignity. A fate worse than death. But the deeper scar—the one that screamed from the depths of his soul— was that it had been his brother, Lôrît, who had deceived him and left him to this fate.

Did he regret his decision to betray his queen and fight alongside Morgaine? No. Queen Mysel had done nothing. Having been tired of merely surviving in the darkness, Îarik had done what he thought was right in order to restore life and hope for his people. He just never imagined it would end this way.

Now, even if he survived, he could never return to the home he loved so much. The home for which he had sacrificed everything and was now, left with nothing.

“Îarik, let me save you,” she whispered again, her voice echoing with grace and kindness. “You must make a choice.”

He sensed the urgency in her tone, but he had already made his choice. He wanted revenge. He wanted to destroy all those responsible for his defeat. He wanted them to suffer.

Struggling to speak, Îarik managed a hoarse whisper. “I– I will serve.”

As he spoke, darkness engulfed him and the image of the woman’s face flickered in his eyes and mind. Perchance it was too late. It seemed he would die in obscurity.

Suddenly, a searing pain burned in his chest. He opened his mouth to scream, but nothing came out. Paralyzed in agony, the burning spread rapidly throughout his body, radiating from his heart to the ashen tips of his fingers.

It tormented him.

Through the agonizing and unrelenting pain, he tried again to focus his eyes. To see what the woman was doing to him. To see the source of the intense burning in his chest. But he saw only flickers of her golden eyes, now tinged with a red glow.

Steaming beads of sweat formed on his smoldering skin. The swiftness in which the pain coursed through him was nearly unbearable. For a moment, Îarik regretted his commitment to the familiar face.

He squeezed his eyes shut, clenched his fists, and gritted his teeth as the fire consumed him from within. Igniting his blood, the inferno sought the dying embers of his soul and tore it from him. An excruciating pain exploded in his chest.

Then, as quickly as it had spread, it faded away.

The burning stopped. The fire was out. Released from death, from fate, his soul was now hers.

He opened his eyes. The pain was gone and his wounds healed. He looked up, saw her, and immediately recognized her. The red glow behind her eyes faded. The faintly luminous blue symbol on her forehead matched that of the Queen’s.

“Lîsáte? Everyone thought you were dead. I thought I’d never see you again. So many years. The dagger? You used it as instructed.” His thoughts were somewhat erratic.

“Yes, but the past is not important. The future is the reason I am here. I have returned to take back what is mine and destroy those who took it from me.”

As she spoke, the gentleness in her tone faded, replaced with an iciness that Îarik found agreeable. She was out for revenge as well.

Slowly, Îarik shifted and then kneeled before Lîsáte.

“My lady, I am your obedient servant to command as you desire.”

To be continued…