[A random story idea that popped into my head after watching Legend of the Fall tonight.]
I was still covered in his blood when I found myself inside Yahuete’s tent. A vision must have told of my coming, for he didn’t even bother to look up as I rushed past his guards and flung the standing ebony table with its elaborate marble scrying bowl crashing to the floor.
“Please shut the tent flap,” he spoke evenly as he took a puff of his pipe. “The wind is a bit harsh this night.”
“You arrogant, self-serving bastard,” I said.
“I see the time has come.” Another puff of smoke slithered through his nostrils, a small tail escaping from his mouth along with the words.
“If you mean the death of my younger brother, the one you prophesized would save my people, then yes, the time has most assuredly come.”
“I did not prophesize such a thing, dear one. I only said his life had a purpose, a vital string on the loom of fate.”
My hands clenched tight as I imagined wrapping my fingers around his short, thick neck. Tension traveled up my neck and down my jaw.
“Was not reclaiming our bloodline’s seat as ruler his purpose?”
Through the smoke still steaming from his nose, I saw his blank milky eyes fix on me. Through the red hot anger, a shiver rushed down my spine as I was once again faced with the knowledge that he could somehow still see me even without his eyes. An escaped prisoner of a Vahlborg slave camp or not, Yahuete was still a Luegalle after all.
“That is your purpose, Crown Jewel. It was always your purpose.”
Just as on the night I found myself into Yahuete’s care, my body had become one with the ground beneath my while my mind swam as though in the depths of the sea. I couldn’t not move, could not rescue myself. Could only watch as everything that I was succumbed to everything that had lead me to this point.
But it was no poisonous berries that plagued me. Only guilt.
My earthen knees began to crumble beneath me, causing my body to drop down, my head falling into my now opened palms. My hands trembled; my fingers the cage I myself had crafted and could never hope to escape. As the tears blurred Yahuete’s tent into a blur of colors, all I saw was the determination in Baeryn’s mahogany eyes as he announced his plan of attack.