Maggie had said it was going to snow, but for a while I thought that she might be wrong; hoped she was wrong truth be known. I did not want to go back there, to the memories, to the guilt, to what I had been, and to that time with her.
Maggie had been furious when I said that I needed to go out and would not explain why.
"It's going to snow," I said, "and I can't explain now, but there is something I have to do. I made a promise."
"Promise! Promised who?" she had screamed. "You won't tell me anything, won't talk about it – just your ridiculous fairy tales of abduction. You remember. I know you do. And now suddenly you have to go out because you made a promise. A promise to who? Where do you need to go? Don't I count for anything?"
I’d closed the door behind me and walked out into the night. I could not explain to her, not this. This I could not share with anyone. It was my darkest memory, and yet also my redemption.
I had walked aimlessly, no real place in mind, I just needed to be alone with my memories of her when the snow began to fall. That much, I could do for her.
When I finally got here I sat down on the bench, and I knew that it was a good place – the right place. She would have liked to see the snow fall here.
Strangely it was in the middle of the town centre. In front of me was a small pool with a fountain in the middle. The pool and its fountain were illuminated by four tall standard lamps, and their effect was to cast the surrounding town into shadow.
I was not really alone, the streets were bustling with young merry makers, drunks even. But they did their thing, and I sat patiently waiting for that moment when the first few flakes of snow fell.
Slowly my thoughts began to drift back to the beginning, to when Anna had first entered into my life.
***
I was down on one knee, head bowed, my master before me. All others were prostrated upon the floor, eyes closed, trembling and praying to whatever gods they worshipped, while they waited upon his words, his commands.
Such fear was there in the room, that it would be almost visible to any that were courageous enough to open their eyes. Those brave enough to hear beyond the beating of their own heart, would hear the fear as the chattering of teeth, the shaking of limbs and almost inaudible prayers. Yet the smell of fear overpowered all other senses. And he savoured it all, revelled in it, fed on it. For fear was his food, pain his drink, and death his entertainment. They were all things to him. They were what he lived for.
All there knew that at the merest whim they could be selected, singled out to entertain him. Their life forfeit to give my master a few brief moments of pleasure. For them a few terrifying and very painful moments, their final moments.
No one was exempt. I had entertained him on two such occasions. Oh, he did not let me die, that would have been a mercy. On the first I was flayed. He kept me alive and conscious, as every inch of my skin was removed. Slowly and precisely removed by the most skilled of his pet torturers, the accursed Damaren.
He let me live like that, with no skin, in pain beyond belief, without even the mercy of sleep or unconsciousness, for seven whole days, before he deemed to heal me and restore me to my place at his feet, as his second, his most trusted. My body was healed, but I doubt my mind ever did.
The second was worse, much, much worse – nothing could ever make my mind relive those moments. Why? I had done nothing wrong, done nothing to displease him – he did it because he could, and because it gave him pleasure, and because my pain was food to him. But more importantly, he did it because it was an example to others. If I, his second, could be subjected to such horrors, then all would know that no one was safe, no one at all. And that knowledge multiplied their fear tenfold, and fear was his food – that was his true reason.
He spoke then, his voice so sweet, so clear, a balm to my mind, to all my fears.
So it was with my master. His voice, his charm and glamour would win your heart, your mind and your very soul. All would fall before this, bathing in his love, his perceived love and compassion. This was his other face – the one he used when he began his conquests, to lull his victims, to fill them with hope, before he dashed it away with misery and pain.
I was no more immune to his charm than any other. I too, swooned and hung on his every word.
His feeding auditions were always like this. He would begin by slowly, ever so slowly, bringing all present into a state of absolute terror. Then, at some he would make examples, and at others he merely revelled in the heightened terror the tortuous waiting brought.
He fed on the fear, truly fed – it gave him sustenance as surely as bread sustains us. And he knew that at the peak of such fear we hated him, all of us, every single one hated him. But for him that was the spice, the sauce to the meal that was our terror, for it too gave him strength; he fed on our hatred.
Then finally, when he was sated, he ended his audience with his charm – it flowed over us all, bathing us in loyalty and love for him; we would do all his bidding, anything to serve him. Of course, we remembered the terror, the pain and our hatred, but they were small things that hid in the shadow of our love for him.
“Go, all of you, carry out my bidding and bring fear to the world,” he said. “Soon all will bow to me again, and you, my faithful, will stand at my side and rule. Begone!"
His voice was that of your mother, your lover or priest. The soothing voices of all those you loved and trusted. Yet no one moved. All remained still, so very, very still. Until the master left us, it was not permitted – the slightest movement would bring his displeasure and a sure and terrible death.
To me he said, “I would speak with you my pet. I have a task for you. A very special task."
As I stood I gasped, for gone were the others – we were now in my master’s chambers. A small part of my mind spoke, He grows stronger, he regains his strength of old. Never before has he shown such powers.
My master laughed, a harsh and evil laugh full of the haughtiness and pride of power, all pretext of charm purged from his voice. I fell to my knees, trembling with terror as he looked down on me. The laughter died, but the silence that filled its place turned my bowels to ice.
And then it was gone, back came the charm, the voice filled with love. “I have a task for you, and tales I would share with my most loyal servant," he said.
My heart was again filled with adoration, and I hung on his every word. But deep in some hidden place in my mind was fear, for this too was one one of his enjoyments – to lull his victims, leading them slowly towards his final dance of terror.
“My power returns. Each day bringing closer the lost years of my rule. I will again soon, very soon, conquer and lay waste to all those that oppose me. Even now the priest bitch approaches her doom, there will be no escape for her this time. She will trouble me no longer – you will see to that my pet."
Turning, he looked into my eyes, deep into my eyes and saw all that I was, all I had been. “Sometimes I forget,” he said, “of how you are not of this world, and how little you know of its past, my past. The crone told you some I see, but most was folk law, stories diluted by time and the telling... trash little resembling the truth." His voice had a hard, bitter edge.
He is angry, I heard the small, hidden part of my mind say. Very angry. What he speaks of hurts him. He fears what happened then.
“I must give you some small part of my history that you may find the one I seek and make an end of her, an end to the last link to my failures," he said, his voice barely concealing the contempt he held for this woman I was to destroy.
As I knelt, he took my head in his hands. Soft delicate fingers held my face, as images began to blur across my vision. Memories not of my making filled my mind, forcing their way in, a lifetime of memories in an instant. I tried to pull back, the pain too great, too much to bear, but those so soft, delicate hands held me ridged as talons grew from their tips digging into the flesh of my face.
It lasted mere seconds, but as he took away his hands I slumped to the floor, conscious, but all strength gone from my body, my mind afire with images and thoughts from my master’s alien mind. As I slowly slipped into unconsciousness, the last thing I heard was his pitiless voice.
“Weak! Such a weak race, and you their strongest. They will be next; once I have ground this feeble world to dust, it will be their turn… Take him away, and care for him. I still have use for my pet.”
I awoke in my chambers hours later, my mind still not my own, his images and memories still shuffling to and fro, trying to fit themselves into those of my life, trying to make themselves mine.
I knew the way of it, how long it would take, how I would be, and how it would leave me. My master had taught me many, many things. He taught me the geography and languages of this world, of its people, their uses and weaknesses. He taught me how to inflict pain and suffering, torment and terror. He taught me how to kill.
The method of learning was nearly always the same, though the effect it had on me varied greatly, depending on how deeply he invaded my mind. The worst had been when he took from me all my memories, mocking as he did so at how pathetic my life and my world were, and how one day, one day soon after he had re-conquered Ellas, he would find a way to my world and make it his yet again.
As I pushed up from the bed in an effort to stand, my head swam with images, the room lurched and I let myself fall back. I lay there with foreign images, noises, smells and emotions even, flowing through my mind – Death and delight. Defeat, frustration and anger. A face, a woman with eyes so very blue – anger and extreme hatred. This one must be found. Find her soon, and make her death an example to all. She has frustrated my plans for the very last time. FIND HER!.
All these thoughts and emotions were almost my own. I hated this woman, this priestess. I wanted her to die, painfully and oh so slowly. And yet that small, so very small hidden part of my mind screamed at me – Why? Why? What has she done to deserve death? Why does he fear her so?
***
Someone sat next to me on the bench, nudged me in the arm and said, "Hey buddy, what are you doing out here all alone in the cold?"
“Yeah?” said another. “You lookin’ for some action, bro?”
Looking up I could see that there were three of them, all big guys, all obviously the worse for wear, and out to have a bit of fun, at my expense if I was any judge of character.
"I'm waiting for the snow," I said, and looked at each in turn trying to show how little I wanted any kind of trouble. At the same time my thoughts turned to how easily they had come up on me. I had only been back a few weeks, was I reverting so quickly or was I really that deeply tangled in the memories I had been reliving?
One of the boys said something to the others, and they all turned to look across the street. I only caught the word ‘Cops’, but that one word was enough for me to know that these lads wouldn’t give me any trouble now.
"See you later," the one on the bench said as he got up and left.
The boys walked away, but it seemed I was not going to get any peace to return to my thoughts; the police officers were now strolling over towards me.
“Evening,” said the one. “Bit cold and dark to be out here all alone. I hope those lads weren’t bothering you?"
“They were no problem officer, just a little worse for wear and looking for a bit of fun," I replied. But I could see that he wanted more – I guessed he wanted to know why I was out here alone, late at night. “I needed some time to myself to think a few things through. So I came out for a walk and ended up here thinking to be alone. But it seems that I’m not really going to get any peace at all now," I added. It was a little sarcastic and the officers did not take it too well, as they then began me to ask for a few details – who was I, where did I live, and so on – just to show that they could be as awkward as I had been, I supposed.
But when I gave my name, the one interrupted the other, “Pete, this is Dave Ellis. You know the guy who went missing last year and turned up just recently. I thought he looked familiar."
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To me he said, “They say you don’t remember anything about the whole year that you were away, is that right?"
I nodded. “Not a thing. That’s part of why I’m out here… trying to understand it all, trying to remember,” I lied.
The officer continued, “What about those knives of yours, the ones they found on you when you were knocked down. They were locked up in evidence but somehow they disappeared, just vanished from police lockup… that’s just about as strange as you not remembering anything. What do you think—”
Before he could finish, the other officer spoke over him, “We’ll leave you in peace to do your thinking now, Mr Ellis, but do be careful of those youngsters… things can turn nasty quickly once drink is involved. Goodnight Sir."
Obviously the one had said too much, the loss of the knives must have been an embarrassment for them. I didn’t care – my knives were back where they belonged. I bade them both goodnight, and settled back to wait for the snow. It did not take long before I was back there with my thoughts of Anna.
***
I sat alone in the darkened room and waited. She would come soon and I could get it done. I hated the waiting, not as much as their eyes when they saw me and realised what was to come, but I hated it all the same. I had kept telling myself that she was no different from the others, nothing special. I had killed before, many, many times. Though, killing did not really describe what I did – I murdered people in cold blood, sometimes making macabre spectacles of them, using their deaths as tools of terror to send messages to those others who would think to oppose my master.
But no matter what I said to myself, this time it was different. She was a woman and I had never killed a woman, but even that was not the reason. This was just different somehow. I was different. I had never questioned his commands before, never asked why they should die, no matter how horrific their death was ordered to be. Never once had I even considered who they were, if they had families, wives and children, or what it was they had done to be marked by my master. All such thoughts and feelings had been driven from me long ago.
But this time something had changed in me. The voice had been the start of it, the voice buried deep within my mind – Why should she die? What has she done? Who is she, and why does he fear her?
And so I had watched this woman Anna, this woman whose eyes were so very blue, so like those of the old woman Setia who had been the last to show me a kindness such a very long time ago. I watched the woman for days, days when she should have been dead long since.
Then, she walked into her room, saw me sat in the shadows, and did not even so much as flinch. She simply walked toward me, sat in the chair opposite, and said, “So you are here at last! I have been expecting you. What took you so long to make up your mind to act? You have been watching me for quite some time."
Her calm, fearless attitude surprised me, but what she had said was more than a surprise, it shocked me. Could she really have known that I had been watching her? Never before had any of my victims suspected anything at all – not until I wanted them to.
She must have sensed my surprise, because she said, “I am a Dreamer. I have known of your coming since I was a young woman, the where and the when of it, all of what was to come. I first saw you in the market on the day of Rest, and you have followed me every day since."
I was astonished. I had thought myself all but invisible in the market, and in the days that followed. And while I had watched, she had shown no sign at all that she knew of my presence. All others, had they such knowledge, would have been terrified, would have run, hidden themselves and prayed. She had done none of those things, she had seemed blissfully unaware of my existence. I was angry that this woman had so easily dismissed my presence, yet also strangely curious.
The anger won out as I spoke, “If you have dreamt of me, then you must know who I am. What I am, and why I am here.”
“I know much of you… and yet even as I look upon you now, I learn how very much my dreams have withheld.” As she spoke her voice cracked, tears welled up behind her eyes and I knew that her words were not meant for me, that she spoke aloud thoughts that somehow pained her deeply.
In an instant all signs of weakness vanished, and she again addressed me, “I know who you are now. I know what he has done to you, what he has made of you, and what he has named you… such a foul and evil name. Of who you were before you were taken, I know nothing… and yet, I know who you will be, and what you will become.”
“What will I become? I am his, and that is all I am! All I ever will be!” I said, anger plain in my voice.
She smiled at my outburst, an honest and true smile that disarmed and drove away my anger. “You will be free of him, I promise you. Already you question his will and yearn for the strength to defy him. Soon you will throw off the hated name with which he has bound you. And then, God willing, you will become he who you were always destined to be.”
Nothing she said made sense. I would never be free of him; his control was too great. And yet she knew my heart, and her words softened the anger and hate that lived inside me. “Why should I listen to you? You know why I am here, and what I am commanded to do. Why should I believe you? How can I possibly believe you?” I said, anger bleeding away from my voice at my last question.
“That you will take my life, I have no doubt… but you will not do so here, not tonight. Tonight we will talk, and slowly you will come to think of me as a friend… and Friend is what I name you. For I will not soil my tongue on the name he gave to you.”
She paused then, and turned her so very blue eyes on me, filling my mind with the truth of the words she next spoke. “And friend is what you will be to me. A true friend in a life full of pain.”
That was the starting point of a conversation that lasted the whole night. She answered the questions I put to her, never once asking anything of me. She patiently explained who she was, and talked of the others who stood with her in her fight against the demon that she knew would soon rise up again to destroy the world.
The more she spoke, the more I was somehow drawn to this woman, to her openness, her forthright honesty and her total lack of fear. Since my master unleashed me on the world, all save Dar'cen himself were terrified of me, and yet here I was with this petite, almost frail, woman who seemed not to have a care in the world.
I found myself liking her, and that was something that had not happened in all the years since I had been taken – I had no friends, I needed none, friendship, feelings and emotions were for the weak. That was my training, my mantra. I had no need of others. Yet here I was with this woman, feeling emotions that I had long thought extinct.
I did not understand what was happening to me. Since the start of this task I had been troubled, and for the first time ever, I had asked myself why my master had ordered someone killed. All that night, thoughts at complete odds with my task raged through my mind – Why must she die? What threat is she? What crime is she guilty of? And last of all, came the thought, Wait, find out more. Dawn came, the woman Anna still lived, and I did not have the answers.
Time flew by and, over the next two weeks, we met daily, spending much of the days together and all of the nights. We were not lovers, but like me, Anna rarely slept, avoiding sleep and the dreams that would bring the future to her; the gift and the bane of all Dreamers, she said. No we were not lovers, but in that very short time together I did grow to love her.
Anna was the tutor and I her pupil, eager for all she could teach. She mesmerised me, I hung on her every word, and for those short periods that we were apart, I thought of little but her. But it was also at those times when she was not there to distract me, that the dark voice would speak. It would talk of my task, of how I must kill her, and of my master’s anger at my delay, and of the inevitable reminder of my task that must soon present itself – I was already well past the appointed time, and my master was not a patient creature.
Never once did any doubt cross my mind as to whether I would carry out my task, but I wanted so very much for the reminder to be delayed, or to never come at all.
One day we sat outside in the courtyard, the sun blazed down on us as we discussed everything and nothing. Out of nowhere I started to talk of snow, and how I missed such a simple delight. Anna’s face changed to one of puzzlement as I spoke, and I could see that she did not understand what it was that I talked of. I realised then, that in all the years I had been on Ellas, it had always been warm, hot even – Ellas had never seen a winter much less snow.
I tried and tried to describe snow to her, finally settling on White star shaped, crystalline flakes of frozen rain, that slowly drifted down from the clouds to coat the ground below with a beautifully crisp white carpet. How she loved to try and imagine that picture. But she did not really understand what I described, what snow was really like. How could she, even the term frozen had no meaning for her; It had never been cold enough on Ellas to freeze.
It was an almost impossible task, and I became very, very angry with myself. Anna seeing my growing frustration began to laugh, and at hearing her laughter, my anger surged to almost bursting. Had I not then looked into her so very blue eyes and seen the sparkle and the laughter that lived there, I believe that my rage would have completed the task I had been set. But I did look, and at that brief glance something wonderful happened – I too laughed. And then we laughed together, both with tears in our eyes. We laughed until our throats were hoarse with it.
Anna then made me promise that when I next saw snow, I would spend time thinking of her, and this time we spent together. I argued that it was too warm on Ellas, and that I would never again see snow. But she was adamant that I should make the promise, and so I did.
***
That memory of the promise brought me back to the here and now. It was, after all, why I was sat outside on this cold dark night waiting for the snow to fall. The police had moved off, the young lads were nowhere to be seen, and silence had descended. The night sky was full with snow heavy clouds, and as I watched the first few flakes fell on my upturned face, melting almost immediately to form small rivulets that mixed with my tears.
***
I saw then Anna’s face in front of me. She was smiling, but faint lines of tears ran down both sides of her face. We had argued for well over an hour, neither of us prepared to give ground.
My reminder had finally come, Dar'cen in a waking dream – I was to complete my task without delay and return directly to him.
When finally released from the dream I was bathed in sweat and still shook with fear. Even at such distance, even in a dream, he could instill overwhelming fear and terror. I had gone immediately to find Anna.
But even before I set out I knew that something had changed in me, that I could not carry out his order. It terrified me that I had come to such a conclusion, and my fear of his wrath when I eventually faced him turned my innards to water. But this, I knew, was the first step that Anna had talked of, the first step that I must make to be free of him.
This too we had argued over. For I believed that I could never be free, but Anna said that it would happen. It would be slow, and would give me great pain, she had said. But I would eventually be free of him – for she had seen it in her dreams.
I found Anna walking in the market, where only a few short weeks ago I had followed and spied upon her. When she saw me she smiled, a warm smile that filled her face, but her eyes said that she already knew of my dream.
“So the time has arrived then, my dear friend. He has spoken to you," she had said, and from that point on we argued.
I told her of how I could not, would not take her life, and of how it would be my first step to freedom. Deep in my heart I knew that the punishment that I would face for such a refusal would drive me even deeper under his control. But I could not do as he demanded. I would not kill Anna. A thousand others but not her.
She argued that such open rebellion was too soon, that it would alert him to how I was changing long before I was ready to resist him, and that he would then crush me, turning me forever to his darkness. She would be allowed to live, and he would send no other for her until I was his completely. Then, I would be sent again, and there would be no second refusal, I would take her life as commanded. So, she argued, to hold back now would only delay her death, and worse, it would ensure that I was forever his creature.
Her words still echo in my mind, “I have seen this all before and am ready. I have waited a long, long time for this day, and do not fear what is to come. In his eyes you must not fail now, you must not give him reason to doubt his control over you. You are not ready yet, not strong enough to resist him. But you will be, I promise you. The time will come… There is a seed of goodness in you and it must be given time to grow."
We argued the same points over and over. Her argument was strong, and I knew she was right in everything she said. But I could not kill this woman, this person who had grown to be my friend, I could not – I loved her, not as a lover, but as one loves a best friend, a sister, a daughter. I had known her but a few short weeks, and yet my depth of feeling for her went beyond anything I had ever known. I could not take her life, no matter what became of me.
At the last I could take no more and walked away. She called after me but I walked on, not turning back even once to look at her. Such a small thing, and yet I bitterly regretted that inaction from that day forward. Had I only known what was to come, I would have stayed with her and said the things that mattered – You are my friend, my only friend. I care for you, I love you. But I did not, and those words remain forever unsaid.
I never saw Anna again. The following day she was found dead in her rooms, dead at her own hand. A note was found at her side addressed to me. Knowing of our friendship and in fear of my retribution, the innkeeper had kept it from the magistrate and given it to me. It was a simple note, only a few brief lines.
My dearest friend,
We were only together but a few short weeks, and yet for me, I have always known you. You have been in my dreams, all my dreams, since my first viewings as a child, and so I was ready for what was to come.
The manner of my death was not shown to me, it was left in the balance, left to you. A proof, I suppose, a vindication of the trust I placed in you. You see from the first we met, I knew that you would not, could not take my life. So please do not grieve at my passing; it was always meant to be. It had to be, I could not let him have you.
Remember your promise. Smile and think of me when you next see that marvellous cold, white water you named snow. For you will see snow once again, the prophecies dictate that it must be so. And I too, have seen it in my dreams.
Until we meet again in another life.
Anna