CHAPTER 30

As Elrieden was busy doing paperwork, he was interrupted by a knock on the door. He directed his attention towards the door opposite of him, and as he looked at it with a stern gaze, a soft sound made its way past the ruckus in the hallway, and into his office.

“Sir, Lyvia and Cyrus Theandor have arrived.”

Elrieden sighed, as he did not look forward to the conversation. He leaned back in his chair, and his eyes wandered, until they fell on the woman sitting in the chair to his left. He saw the lifelessness that permeated her stature and her expression.

He sighed, and as his expression turned to a tired and defeated one, he thought of how to deal with the situation, only to arrive at the conclusion that he had no answer. He did not know how to deal with the situation, let alone tell the affected parties.

He had never seen such an intricate curse, and he feared for the woman, as he did not know what had inflicted it upon her, and the suspicions he had to what it could be, were more unsettling than not knowing at all. He knew that both the Tyrrith and Theandor family would be affected by this, and he knew that it wouldn’t be possible to revert her state, or bring her back to some semblance of self-awareness. He did not know if Cyrus still had some connection to his mother, but if he did, he would most likely be devastated when he saw her in this sorry state.

Elrieden could only hope that Cyrus’ new family could give him the support he needed, as he most likely wouldn’t be able to process the situation in one go.

He sighed once again, and beckoned the concerned standing in front of the door to come in.

While Elrieden called the three in, Lyvia did not notice it, as she had been in thought since she the shaman had announced their arrival.

A multitude of thoughts raged through her mind on what could possibly be so important that Elrieden would send one of his eldest sons out, and that he would personally address them in his office.

She knew that Elrieden would rarely call anyone when it came down to civil matters, as he would normally have one of his employees, or on rare occasions his shamans, deal with the problem. It was very rare for him to deal with something personally, and that almost never meant anything good.

They were finally allowed in, as a soft ‘come in’ resounded from inside.

The shaman slowly opened the door, and as the large and heavy oak door opened to a crack, it allowed Lyvia to look inside. She was not happy with what she saw.

She saw Elrieden’s office with even more paperwork than normal, as it was organised in man high piles of documents with the majority of it standing on his desk, but she could see that he had built himself in as the paperwork besieged him from all sides. However, there was something less amusing and more grim sitting in the chair to his left. Her complexion paled, and her mouth opened in shock, as she stared at the woman she was all too familiar with.

In a wheelchair to the right of Elrieden sat Avary Tyrrith. It was clear that there was something amiss, as  she sat there with a blank expression on her face, as her body radiated indifference, and as her eyes betrayed the absence of any kind of self-awareness. She seemed like a lifeless husk, which only existed only to plague the loved ones of the person it once inhabited.

The only assurance Lyvia had that she was alive, was that she could see her breathing by the muscle movement of her trachea . She didn’t even seem to react to the noise that accompanied them from the hallway.

She was completely baffled Avary’s state, and could only gawk in horror as she looked upon the woman who once exuded an aura of pride and grace, as she was now reduced only to a husk of her former spirit, an empty and lifeless husk that carried none of the pride nor grace she had exuded like a blazing sun.

As her gawking was noticed by Elrieden, he sighed, and said with a calm yet tired voice: “Please take a seat, it has been a long day, and we wanted to inform you of the situation.”

While Lyvia was slowly recovering from her shock, another person had entered the room, and Elrieden’s expression turned to stone as he saw the little boy. His already tired expression seemed to lose the last remaining strands of energy it harboured, and he transformed from the authoritative and imposing presence he normally was, to an old man who would have difficulty doing something as simple as standing up from his desk chair.

To no surprise, he remained seated.

As the door was completely opened, it didn’t obstruct Cyrus vision any more, and it exposed him to the naked truth. He widened his eyes from shock as he saw his mother, he had noticed the same change as Lyvia, and he could not believe that this empty husk was his mother.

Where curiosity had painted his face, now only shock, astonishment, and horror reigned. The small boy couldn’t believe the change his mother had made, and everyone could see it on his face.

Elrieden could only despair as he saw the little boy’s face. The thought of telling them what had caused his mother’s condition made his heart waver more and more, as he could not bear to see the little boy’s hope be destroyed. However, he steeled himself, as he knew that telling sweet lies would only make the truth taste more sour.

Just as he was about to speak, he was cut short by little Cyrus. The small boy silently walked over to his mother, his heart pumping in his chest, and his steps unsure. The rhythmic beating echoed through his mind, as the pulse of his heart overtook all but one thought, his mother. The thought of his mother when he had last seen her, the loving woman who was willing to sacrifice herself for him, the gentle mother who had always doted on him, and the only person in that family who wished for him to grow strong in his own way.

The woman that had granted him respite of the tyranny from his father, was now reduced to a husk of her former self. As he was only a few metres away from him, he was finally able to look into her lifeless eyes, and they caused him to grind to a halt. The flood of memories and thoughts halted, as Cyrus’ vision and psyche was completely focused on his mother’s eyes, as they seemed to expunge any memory Cyrus had of her.

He stared into the void that inhabited her eyes, and was greatly shocked by the absence of, anything. Her eyes seemed to be empty, as her normally beautiful purple irises were clouded. It seemed like they were enshrouded in a thick fog which blocked all perception, and left her blind. The mist in her eyes seemed to block both her perception, and any signs of life that would normally shoot out from her eyes.

Cyrus remembered the excitement, pride, joy, and sorrow that would radiate from those eyes, as he remembered how the colour of her purple irises would seem to dim, or brighten depending on her emotions. He remembered how her expression had been changed by those emotions, and how her eyes would exude them like the sun. He remembered the small muscle movements on her face as her expression rushed to match her emotions, but now, there weren’t any muscle movements, her eyes seemed to be lifeless, and the only thing her expression showed was indifference.

The absence of all of those things betrayed the absence of any kind of self-awareness inside of that husk. This became clearer to Cyrus with every step he took, as every metre closer seemed to illuminate more and more of her lifeless demeanour.  

Despite his astonishment, the little boy forged onward, as he tried to find something that would indicate that his mother was still somewhere inside that husk, as he tried to find some small hope that his mother would return to him, however that hope was nowhere to be found.

Small details, like frilled pieces of clothing, split hair ends, and other small things that his mother wouldn’t normally allow to exist on her body, revealed that this hope was for naught. He remembered the times when she was preparing for the day ahead, she was always so adamant about making a good appearance, and Cyrus could see that she had failed today. He could see that his hope had failed him, as he spotted all the small details that supplemented his mother’s absence.

Even as he crossed the last few steps, he could not notice anything that would give a small spark to his hope, instead, it was only dimming more and more, as everything that he saw reinforced the grim thought that she was gone.

As he finally reached his mother, he laid his hand upon her exposed knee. However, the moment his hand touched her knee, she rebounded in her chair, pulling her knee and her body back as far away from his as possible. She cowered as she got up from the wheelchair, and as she tried run away from Cyrus.

He could clearly see the fear in her expression, as she tried to desperately get away from him, only to stumble over her own feet and fall. He saw her curdle up in an foetal position, she tried to protect herself by raising her arms to her face, while her fear was clearly shown by her shivering limbs and the pained and high pitched squeal she released. She seemed like a small and fearful child, as she tried to hide herself from the bogyman, only to cause that bogyman to despair. His mind was completely emptied except for the sight in front of him, as he realized that the first emotion that broke his mother’s expression of lifelessness and indifference, would be fear.

Lyvia was completely shocked by Avary’s behaviour, but Elrieden only sighed, and said with a heavy and tired voice: “This is the reason I called you here. Avary is in a terrible state, and that state is inflicted by a special kind of curse, a contract.”

Lyva turned her attention towards Elrieden, only to meet his solemn gaze with a questioning one, as she did not know what his proclamation entailed.

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While Lyvia asked Elrieden was such a contract entailed, Cyrus’ tried to scramble his thoughts together, but he ultimately failed, as he could not comprehend what had happened to his mother.

He couldn’t understand what might have changed her so much. He had seen her only a week ago, and she was still the doting mother he had known since birth, but now, she was nothing more than a doll which responded to the most basic emotions.

After Avary had left a week ago, Cyrus had harboured some small hope that she could be saved from the Tyrrith family, that she could join him in his new home, and that they could build a new life together under the roof of the Theandor home. As he saw her, that hope was pulverized. That small hope had helped him get over his family, as he imagined every night how she would stride into the living room that next morning, he had imagined it every day for the last five nights, as she sometimes would be wounded, other times she would valiantly stride in and take him to the capital to read as much as he wanted, on the last night, he imagined that she would give him to the Theandor family, and go on a heroic journey to defeat the Tyrrith family.

However, all these fantasies had one thing in common, she came back. In his childish fantasies, he always had the hope she would come back, and now he realized that that hope was nothing more than a childish fantasy.

He felt great despair as the thing that had lend him great support in the past week broke into pieces, and as he racked his mind for possible solutions, he could only come to the conclusion that he was too weak. He realized he was too weak to protect his own mother, too weak to ensure her safety, too weak to even give her a small respite from the situation.

He hated his weakness. He hated the fact that he could not protect his loved ones, and as his hatred grew more and more, a devotion for power was forged in the depths of his despair.

A devotion to gain enough power to overcome any obstacle, enough power to slay anyone that threatened him, his loved ones, or the peace they reside in, and most of all, enough power to make sure that none of his loved ones would have to suffer again. He hated that he could do nothing but watch as his mother was reduced to such a sorry state, and he decided to devote himself to make sure something like this would never happened again.

As thoughts of power and a conviction raged through Cyrus’ mind, Lyvia heard what had caused Avary’s state.

She replied to Elrieden with a serious, yet unsure voice as one could hear that it was hard for her to hold back her emotions.

“Elrieden, we need to help her. There are ways to subvert curses, right? Why don’t we do that?”

Elrieden sighed, before saying with a tired voice: “I wish that was possible, a contract is a special kind of curse. A contract requires the consent from both parties, but in return, it can have an even greater effect on both of them. I don’t know what is the exact contents of Avary’s contract, as the brand is very complicated, and we seems to be obstructed by some kind of outside force. What I do know, is that there are three conditions Avary needs to fulfil, there is only one condition for the other party, and there is an exchange rate for something at 10:1. I don’t know what the exchange rate is for, nor do I know what the conditions are, but we have some suspicions. However, they are ungrounded superstitions, but we do have a good lead on one thing.”

Lyvia looked at him with a questioning and apprehensive gaze, as he didn’t have any useful facts, and said with a questioning and serious voice: “What is your so called ‘lead’?”

Elrieden looked at Lyvia with a grim expression, and said with a soft voice that echoed through the room: “We think that the contractor might be the master of deceit, Tzabeo. It’s just a suspicion without much ground to it, but that is what we think.”

Lyvia’s face paled as she realized that it could very well be possible that such a curse could be inflicted by a god, and said with an agitated and nervous tone: “W-why would a god make a contract with someone? And why do you think it’s Tzabeo, this master of deceit?”

Elrieden snickered, before saying with a tired voice that reflected his demeanour: “Well, we don’t know for sure, but it would explain a few things. First, the brand seems to change all the time, hence we think of Tzabeo, god of change and master of deceit, and as quite competent shamans, we’re left almost completely in the dark about this contract. Even the things we could find out seemed like they were done on purpose, so that we would follow his schemes. We think it’s him, because of the scheming nature of the situation, and the constant change the brand experiences, but we don’t know if it’s true, and we don’t how or why he did it. I think only Avary could shed light on that matter, but it is unknown how long she will be in that state. She could be in that state forever, a few days, a few more hours, or she could die from it over a long duration, a short one, or she could live to die of old age. We simply don’t know.”

Lyvia’s face paled, as she realized that there was a large chance that a god could have interfered, but why would the god of change interfere? Would the contract with Avary cause a lot of change in the world?

Lyvia quickly snapped out of her thoughts, as there were more important matters to attend to.

With a calm voice, she said: “Okay, I get the situation. Now, where will she be staying? Is she going to be cared for? If not, we could take her in.”

Elrieden formed a smile on his face, as his expression seemed to regain some of its former vigour, before a glint appeared in his eyes, and as his voice boomed with pride, he said: “Thank you for the offer, but we will shelter her here. We can observe any changes in the curse she is afflicted with, and you should not forget that this is the Tyrrith family we are talking about. If she is here, they won’t come looking for her, as we are a neutral faction. Cyrus can visit anytime he wants, if he even wishes to.”

Elrieden nodded to his left, and with his nod, he drew Lyvia’s attention towards Avary and Cyrus. She had seen what happened, and understood Elrieden’s worries. Cyrus must be very affected by this, and it would be her priority to calm him.

She quickly made her way over to him, and hugged him from behind. She noticed that Cyrus was clenching his hand with great vigour, as his knuckles had turned completely white from the strength his grip exuded, and his arm trembled under the pressure his muscles released.

Lyvia recognised his feelings, and decided that it wouldn’t do him any good to remain here for longer. They quickly left after they had thanked Elrieden, who personally escorted them to the door, and out of the house.

As the two had finally left, Elrieden ordered one of the servants to take Avary to the guest room, and let her rest on the bed. She wouldn’t be able to move very much, so it would be wise to leave her alone, as she could hardly hurt herself in that state.

As the meeting had ended, all parties involved had an adverse feeling about the situation, but one party in particular was writhing in agony after the meeting had ended.

It was in complete despair as she could not tell anyone what was going on, she was in agony as she saw that she retreated from her son, and she could only feel sadness as her son’s expression changed from a tenderness, to a stoicism. She didn’t want that, she wanted him to look upon her with joy, with happiness, with love, not with such a stoic and devoted expression. She wanted him to look at her like she was his mother, not like she was a religious preacher.

She had felt a small feeling of joy as he had entered the room, as she saw his tender expression, an expression filled with love for her, but that feeling of joy had been completely wiped out by the end of the meeting by both her body’s reactions to him, and the reaction he had towards it.

She wanted to tell him that she loved him, she wanted to tell Elrieden what the contract held, she wanted to thank Lyvia for taking in Cyrus, but she could not speak, as that damned body only flinched at the slightest touch of her most loved son.

She lamented her fate, but she did not regret her choice, as she remembered every little detail of what happened that fateful day a week ago.

She remembered her husband’s rough handling, she remembered Lyvia trying to help her, and she remembered Cyrus stumbling towards the edge after her husband pushed him.

In that single moment, she was completely outraged. The despair from losing her children turned into raw anger, as she marked Eldrin as the martyr of her fate, as she realized that he had chased away her children, or send them off to die. Thoughts of rage invaded her mind, as she envisioned her husband as the killer of her children, the warden of that prison he called their ‘home’, and the martyr that had delivered her to such a miserable fate.

The emotions raged through her mind as she saw Cyrus stumbling towards the edge. Her mind was filled with despair, anger, and hatred for both herself, and her husband. The emotions were boiling inside of her, but they were all quickly extinguished, as she saw Cyrus fall backwards off of the platform.

As she saw him fall, only one thing remained in her mind. A scream, a scream of anguish resounded through her mind as she realized that she would lose one of her children to that damned martyr once again. She realized that she would lose the last source of joy in her life, and she realized that her husband would drag her down into his hellish pit. She would not go without a fight, and screamed like she had never done before.

She felt the energies in her core surge, as her cry of agony consisted of her raw emotions, and as her emotions reached boiled over, all of her energy was directed outwards She screamed with every bit of energy she could muster, she screamed to let someone know of her agony, and a cry of anguish resounded through the forest once again. Time seemed to stop as the raw emotion of her scream seemed to overpower any other sound that would normally resound from the forest.

Just as her cry of anguish was about to end, it was met with a sickening laughter. The laughter seemed almost ethereal, as she could hear a laugh coming from every direction. It was very high pitched as it seemed to echo through the whole forest. It reverberated through her whole being, as she could even feel the laughter penetrate into her soul.

The voice spoke, and it boomed over the forest despite its high sound.

“So, you are in pain, you want your offspring to live. What can you offer in return?” The voice said with an ominous tone, as it seemed to directly speak into Avary’s mind.

Avary showed no sign of hesitation, as she had already taken up the resolve to protect Cyrus by any means necessary. She looked up with a steadfast, and said with a pained yet stern voice: “Everything, I offer my body, soul, and mind to protect the future of my son.”

The voice cackled through her mind, as it said with the same ominous tone: “I don’t need everything, as only a few of your senses will be enough for this. Now, let me present you with interesting deal.”

The moment the voice finished, a window popped up in front of Avary.

Contract

You have been offered a contract by Tzabeo, the god of change.

If you agree to this contract, your body will lose its sense of hearing, its vision, and you will be disconnected from your body.

It will have a mind so feeble, that it won’t even be able to control itself properly. You will retain your vision and hearing, but you can’t interfere with the outside world in any way, you will have the ties to your body cut, and you won’t be able to influence anything but yourself and the energy that your being harbours.

In return, Tzabeo will protect Cyrus Tyrrith one year for every ten years you spend in the aforementioned state.

The contract can be terminated at any time by both parties, but both parties will need to fulfil the terms stated in the contract.

The contract will be forcefully terminated when either one of the parties does not uphold their end of the bargain, and it will be terminated when Avary Tyrrith influences the outside way directly or indirectly.

Do you accept?

Yes

No

As Avary saw Cyrus’ foot disappear out of sight as his whole body had left the safety of the platform, she made her choice. She knew she would never regret this choice, as she had been ready to sacrifice a lot more for a lot less.

She had been predetermined from the start, she would have her son survive, and grow by any means necessary, even if that meant she would die.

As she steeled her conviction, she lightly pressed ‘Yes’, and the world fell away around her.