the other vignette I promised ^_^
title: Betrayal part II
author: Jyna Alisabeth
rating: PG to be on the safe side
genre: fantasy/angst
tagline: What happened that fateful day? What did Rheyce see -- feel -- hear?
The moment the sword pierced his heart, Rheyce knew he would die. He had not been able to stop him. He had failed. The sword was pulled from his chest and he fell to the ground in a heap, his blood seeping from his wounds, feeling hot against his clammy skin. The sounds of battle faded around him, the opposing side had won, and there was no need to continue fighting as their leader had struck him down.
Faces of all the people he had ever failed came to mind. His parents, he had failed them both, failed the love they had bestowed on him and he had dishonored their memory. His people, when they had needed him the very most, he hadn’t been able to stop his brother from forever severing him from his fate and his responsibility to them. Faelowyn, yes he had failed her, too. He hadn’t been able to stop the deaths of those she protected. She had, instead, given her life to protect what she loved. Zaryn, he had died because of him. Rheyce had sworn to protect the boy, raise him and be a father to him. He alone was responsible for the boy’s death and what happened in the aftermath of his grief, the savage way he had destroyed the city surrounding the castle of his birth. Even the dragon that had given its entire being to keep him alive, he’d failed because he didn’t want to live this painful half life anymore and because of it, the dragon and its entire essence would cease to exist as well.
The last face that came to mind was Asylia’s. He had failed her too. He was supposed to protect her from Zeryk, the god of life and death who coveted her. He should be fighting to stay alive, yet his soul was so very tired. The man had lost his will to live, though the dragon fought against it and refused to let him die so easily.
He wished he could see her one last time before he was gone. To at least tell her he was so very sorry that he had failed her, too. Because he was starting to realize he loved her, even though centuries ago he’d sworn to never love another soul. It was much too painful to lose another person he cared for, and yet there was something different about Asylia. He’d lost everyone and everything else, his family, his friends, his people, his heritage. It was all gone. And now he would lose her, too.
He closed his left eye, the only one he could see with. The right one had been damaged beyond repair and now that side of his face throbbed painfully. He slipped into the welcoming darkness and its seductive comfort. To feel no more, only to dream of his past, a past best left forgotten. But now that he lay so close to death, he could not ignore those things which he had tried so hard to forget.
His brother’s face, so very similar to his, came into his dreams. A face he hated, not just because it was so very like his own, but because of the things his brother had taken such pleasure at ripping from him.
That was when a voice began whispering softly in his ear, a voice he knew very well from his last brush with Death. Gods, how many times would he have to lie in a pool of his own blood at another’s hands like this? It was the very voice of Death itself. Zeryk. How could one ever forget his silky tones that seemed so seductive and yet sinister all at once?
So we meet again, Rheyce Zecchara. I find it amusing that your life is filled with ironies. Again, here you lay at the hand of your brother, slowly bleeding to death. Again, you’ve lost everything you hold dear. I wonder- who will save you now? There are no more dragons roaming this world to donate their lives and magic to keep your heart beating. My siblings no longer care to keep interfering with the fabric of Fate to keep your sorry life woven into its threads.
Rheyce wanted to tell this voice, whispering on the wind with such malice, to shut up and leave him to die in peace. However, all he could do was lie there. It wouldn’t be very much longer now, as he could feel blood begin filling his lungs making it harder and harder to breathe.
That was when he heard her voice. Then he smelled the delicate smell that belonged only to her. Asylia. She had come as if in answer to the hopeless prayer he’d prayed.
“No!” she cried and then she was there, pulling his body into her arms. It would be a fitting way for him to die, he decided. Here in her arms, where he could inhale her scent and feel her heart beating erratically next to his.
“Rheyce?” she whispered fearfully.
It was a struggle to pull another breath into his lungs and then to open his eye so she would know he was still alive.
The look of horror on her face gave him sorrow. What must he look like to her; his body bloodied and broken? This would be her last memory of him sadly, a memory he wished he could take from her and instead replace it with the summer nights they had spent together, looking up at the nighttime sky, or the lessons in swordplay he’d given to her so she could protect herself if he could not. Or all the teasing and fighting they had done, because neither was willing to allow the other to dominate them in any way. There were hundreds of memories he wished she would remember instead of this moment.
“Rheyce, don’t give up,” her voice broke through the haze. “Please,” she begged, “You cannot give up, not now.”
He wished he could continue to fight for her. But he was so tired. He just couldn’t continue anymore. She would understand eventually, he knew. Someday, she would come to see that it was best this way. He was certain she would be safer away from him and his tainted love anyway. What, besides pain and eventually death, had his love ever done for anyone? Nothing good had ever came of it. He needed to tell her this, that he was sorry. He had failed her. It wasn’t her fault.
He pulled more air into his lungs only to shudder and cough uncontrollably. The pain was blinding. But it was Asylia’s sweet breath on his face that helped him focus on her and not the unbelievable pain in his body. She had leaned over him, her ear very near his lips. So close. She was so close to him so that he couldn’t help but try and inhale the scent of her but it caused him to cough again. She pulled him tighter against herself, her fingers digging into his skin.
“Asylia?” he rasped in her ear.
“I’m here,” she murmured, squeezing his hand.
“I’m sorry,” he began, “I couldn’t-
Her finger came to rest on his lips, cutting him off. “Shhh, Rheyce,” she told him, “I’m here for you and that’s all that matters.”
Yes, he thought, it was all that mattered. He closed his eye gave in to the darkness again, gave in to the urge to let go of everything.
Moments, hours, a lifetime could have passed him. Suddenly he heard the voice whispering into his ear again.
Were you really supposed to protect Asylia from me? You swore it, a blood oath. You are such a fool, Rheyce. Did you think you could ever win a woman such as her? You are too weak to win her love, to even hold her attention. She pities you now, Rheyce, but it is me who she wants. Because I can protect her from what it is she really fears. Death.
Look, Rheyce Zecchara, at what your weakness has done. Lost to you is another woman who despises your failure, your inability to protect what you care for. Look. Even now she’s agreeing to be mine.
Rheyce fought against the comforting darkness. If only to prove to himself that Zeryk was lying. Asylia despised the god for her own reasons. She had said as much on numerous occasions that she would rather die a thousand painful deaths than let Zeryk touch her.
She was kneeling next to him, when he opened his eye, but looking up at the god. He choked. He began coughing, his body straining and in pain. She turned to look at him and the look in her eye seemed determined, detached. And then her eyes filled with longing and she looked away from him. Dread filled his heart at the sight. Zeryk couldn’t be right, could he?
He wanted to grab her and shake her, remind her of her disgust for the god who stood there before them both. That she hated him passionately. Rheyce had the displeasure of having experienced firsthand how the god twisted people’s will and intentions to suit whatever he was after at the moment. Whatever she thought she could gain from aligning herself with Zeryk, he had ulterior motives and she would only end up being hurt in the process.
“No,” he whispered as loudly as he could, “Don’t do this, Asylia.”
Zeryk stepped forward and pulled Asylia to her feet and held her close to his side, both of them facing Rheyce. “Do not waste your breath, Rheyce Zecchara. She knows I am better than you or she would never have chosen me over filth like you.”
He looked to Asylia to see if that was exactly how she felt. But she didn’t speak. Merely stood there, looking down at him. He couldn’t tell if she pitied him. He couldn’t read any part of her body language, couldn’t see past the veil she’d let down over her emotions.
Zeryk snapped his fingers and the world was righted once again, just as if the battle had never happened. As if he had never been stabbed in the heart and laid there slowly dying. Except for one thing.
Asylia now belonged to Zeryk.
He was disgusted with himself. With Zeryk and with her. It left a nasty taste in his mouth and the dragon in him hissed at losing Asylia to Zeryk. It wanted to fight the god for her, but Rheyce wasn’t foolish enough to try it. The god would beat him easily, Rheyce may have been more powerful than any mere mortal with the combined power of the magic he has possessed and the powerful ancient magic the dragon had gifted him with, but the god was that much more powerful.
“What have you done, Asylia?” Rheyce asked her, sickened by her willingness to be with whoever was stronger, whoever held the most power.
Instead of answering, she buried her face against Zeryk’s shoulder. Rheyce couldn’t believe it. Zeryk had, for once, been telling the truth. He sneered at them both, his lip curling in distaste.
“So this is the way it is to be? The moment I show any weakness, the moment it looks like I’ve failed, you run off to him? Are you so pathetic then, Asylia? I cannot believe I ever trusted you.” He spat at her before he turned and used a spell to whisk him away from the two before he did something foolish, like he did the day Zaryn died.
Neither of them were worth the trouble. He had other things more pressing than who Asylia decided to align herself with. His brother was still out there. Still planning destruction for the world in general and especially for anything Rheyce had ever cared about.
Once again, he swore he would never love or trust another female. Women were duplicitous and he was sickened more by Asylia’s betrayal than he had been by Zaryn’s death. He was done trusting people. He should have learned his lesson the day his brother tried to kill him the first time.
The dragon in him was furious with him for giving Asylia up so easily, but Rheyce didn’t care. He wasn’t about to force anyone to be with him. No matter how much the dragon inside of him demanded a mate. The difference between your friends and enemies was simple: friends will smile to your face while plotting to stab you in the back.
Goodbye Asylia, he thought sadly before he pushed her memory forcibly from his mind. May the Fates have mercy on you, because I know Zeryk will not.
author: Jyna Alisabeth
rating: PG to be on the safe side
genre: fantasy/angst
tagline: What happened that fateful day? What did Rheyce see -- feel -- hear?
The moment the sword pierced his heart, Rheyce knew he would die. He had not been able to stop him. He had failed. The sword was pulled from his chest and he fell to the ground in a heap, his blood seeping from his wounds, feeling hot against his clammy skin. The sounds of battle faded around him, the opposing side had won, and there was no need to continue fighting as their leader had struck him down.
Faces of all the people he had ever failed came to mind. His parents, he had failed them both, failed the love they had bestowed on him and he had dishonored their memory. His people, when they had needed him the very most, he hadn’t been able to stop his brother from forever severing him from his fate and his responsibility to them. Faelowyn, yes he had failed her, too. He hadn’t been able to stop the deaths of those she protected. She had, instead, given her life to protect what she loved. Zaryn, he had died because of him. Rheyce had sworn to protect the boy, raise him and be a father to him. He alone was responsible for the boy’s death and what happened in the aftermath of his grief, the savage way he had destroyed the city surrounding the castle of his birth. Even the dragon that had given its entire being to keep him alive, he’d failed because he didn’t want to live this painful half life anymore and because of it, the dragon and its entire essence would cease to exist as well.
The last face that came to mind was Asylia’s. He had failed her too. He was supposed to protect her from Zeryk, the god of life and death who coveted her. He should be fighting to stay alive, yet his soul was so very tired. The man had lost his will to live, though the dragon fought against it and refused to let him die so easily.
He wished he could see her one last time before he was gone. To at least tell her he was so very sorry that he had failed her, too. Because he was starting to realize he loved her, even though centuries ago he’d sworn to never love another soul. It was much too painful to lose another person he cared for, and yet there was something different about Asylia. He’d lost everyone and everything else, his family, his friends, his people, his heritage. It was all gone. And now he would lose her, too.
He closed his left eye, the only one he could see with. The right one had been damaged beyond repair and now that side of his face throbbed painfully. He slipped into the welcoming darkness and its seductive comfort. To feel no more, only to dream of his past, a past best left forgotten. But now that he lay so close to death, he could not ignore those things which he had tried so hard to forget.
His brother’s face, so very similar to his, came into his dreams. A face he hated, not just because it was so very like his own, but because of the things his brother had taken such pleasure at ripping from him.
That was when a voice began whispering softly in his ear, a voice he knew very well from his last brush with Death. Gods, how many times would he have to lie in a pool of his own blood at another’s hands like this? It was the very voice of Death itself. Zeryk. How could one ever forget his silky tones that seemed so seductive and yet sinister all at once?
So we meet again, Rheyce Zecchara. I find it amusing that your life is filled with ironies. Again, here you lay at the hand of your brother, slowly bleeding to death. Again, you’ve lost everything you hold dear. I wonder- who will save you now? There are no more dragons roaming this world to donate their lives and magic to keep your heart beating. My siblings no longer care to keep interfering with the fabric of Fate to keep your sorry life woven into its threads.
Rheyce wanted to tell this voice, whispering on the wind with such malice, to shut up and leave him to die in peace. However, all he could do was lie there. It wouldn’t be very much longer now, as he could feel blood begin filling his lungs making it harder and harder to breathe.
That was when he heard her voice. Then he smelled the delicate smell that belonged only to her. Asylia. She had come as if in answer to the hopeless prayer he’d prayed.
“No!” she cried and then she was there, pulling his body into her arms. It would be a fitting way for him to die, he decided. Here in her arms, where he could inhale her scent and feel her heart beating erratically next to his.
“Rheyce?” she whispered fearfully.
It was a struggle to pull another breath into his lungs and then to open his eye so she would know he was still alive.
The look of horror on her face gave him sorrow. What must he look like to her; his body bloodied and broken? This would be her last memory of him sadly, a memory he wished he could take from her and instead replace it with the summer nights they had spent together, looking up at the nighttime sky, or the lessons in swordplay he’d given to her so she could protect herself if he could not. Or all the teasing and fighting they had done, because neither was willing to allow the other to dominate them in any way. There were hundreds of memories he wished she would remember instead of this moment.
“Rheyce, don’t give up,” her voice broke through the haze. “Please,” she begged, “You cannot give up, not now.”
He wished he could continue to fight for her. But he was so tired. He just couldn’t continue anymore. She would understand eventually, he knew. Someday, she would come to see that it was best this way. He was certain she would be safer away from him and his tainted love anyway. What, besides pain and eventually death, had his love ever done for anyone? Nothing good had ever came of it. He needed to tell her this, that he was sorry. He had failed her. It wasn’t her fault.
He pulled more air into his lungs only to shudder and cough uncontrollably. The pain was blinding. But it was Asylia’s sweet breath on his face that helped him focus on her and not the unbelievable pain in his body. She had leaned over him, her ear very near his lips. So close. She was so close to him so that he couldn’t help but try and inhale the scent of her but it caused him to cough again. She pulled him tighter against herself, her fingers digging into his skin.
“Asylia?” he rasped in her ear.
“I’m here,” she murmured, squeezing his hand.
“I’m sorry,” he began, “I couldn’t-
Her finger came to rest on his lips, cutting him off. “Shhh, Rheyce,” she told him, “I’m here for you and that’s all that matters.”
Yes, he thought, it was all that mattered. He closed his eye gave in to the darkness again, gave in to the urge to let go of everything.
Moments, hours, a lifetime could have passed him. Suddenly he heard the voice whispering into his ear again.
Were you really supposed to protect Asylia from me? You swore it, a blood oath. You are such a fool, Rheyce. Did you think you could ever win a woman such as her? You are too weak to win her love, to even hold her attention. She pities you now, Rheyce, but it is me who she wants. Because I can protect her from what it is she really fears. Death.
Look, Rheyce Zecchara, at what your weakness has done. Lost to you is another woman who despises your failure, your inability to protect what you care for. Look. Even now she’s agreeing to be mine.
Rheyce fought against the comforting darkness. If only to prove to himself that Zeryk was lying. Asylia despised the god for her own reasons. She had said as much on numerous occasions that she would rather die a thousand painful deaths than let Zeryk touch her.
She was kneeling next to him, when he opened his eye, but looking up at the god. He choked. He began coughing, his body straining and in pain. She turned to look at him and the look in her eye seemed determined, detached. And then her eyes filled with longing and she looked away from him. Dread filled his heart at the sight. Zeryk couldn’t be right, could he?
He wanted to grab her and shake her, remind her of her disgust for the god who stood there before them both. That she hated him passionately. Rheyce had the displeasure of having experienced firsthand how the god twisted people’s will and intentions to suit whatever he was after at the moment. Whatever she thought she could gain from aligning herself with Zeryk, he had ulterior motives and she would only end up being hurt in the process.
“No,” he whispered as loudly as he could, “Don’t do this, Asylia.”
Zeryk stepped forward and pulled Asylia to her feet and held her close to his side, both of them facing Rheyce. “Do not waste your breath, Rheyce Zecchara. She knows I am better than you or she would never have chosen me over filth like you.”
He looked to Asylia to see if that was exactly how she felt. But she didn’t speak. Merely stood there, looking down at him. He couldn’t tell if she pitied him. He couldn’t read any part of her body language, couldn’t see past the veil she’d let down over her emotions.
Zeryk snapped his fingers and the world was righted once again, just as if the battle had never happened. As if he had never been stabbed in the heart and laid there slowly dying. Except for one thing.
Asylia now belonged to Zeryk.
He was disgusted with himself. With Zeryk and with her. It left a nasty taste in his mouth and the dragon in him hissed at losing Asylia to Zeryk. It wanted to fight the god for her, but Rheyce wasn’t foolish enough to try it. The god would beat him easily, Rheyce may have been more powerful than any mere mortal with the combined power of the magic he has possessed and the powerful ancient magic the dragon had gifted him with, but the god was that much more powerful.
“What have you done, Asylia?” Rheyce asked her, sickened by her willingness to be with whoever was stronger, whoever held the most power.
Instead of answering, she buried her face against Zeryk’s shoulder. Rheyce couldn’t believe it. Zeryk had, for once, been telling the truth. He sneered at them both, his lip curling in distaste.
“So this is the way it is to be? The moment I show any weakness, the moment it looks like I’ve failed, you run off to him? Are you so pathetic then, Asylia? I cannot believe I ever trusted you.” He spat at her before he turned and used a spell to whisk him away from the two before he did something foolish, like he did the day Zaryn died.
Neither of them were worth the trouble. He had other things more pressing than who Asylia decided to align herself with. His brother was still out there. Still planning destruction for the world in general and especially for anything Rheyce had ever cared about.
Once again, he swore he would never love or trust another female. Women were duplicitous and he was sickened more by Asylia’s betrayal than he had been by Zaryn’s death. He was done trusting people. He should have learned his lesson the day his brother tried to kill him the first time.
The dragon in him was furious with him for giving Asylia up so easily, but Rheyce didn’t care. He wasn’t about to force anyone to be with him. No matter how much the dragon inside of him demanded a mate. The difference between your friends and enemies was simple: friends will smile to your face while plotting to stab you in the back.
Goodbye Asylia, he thought sadly before he pushed her memory forcibly from his mind. May the Fates have mercy on you, because I know Zeryk will not.