The pain in his hip and leg was excruciating and never seemed to be getting better. Any moment or day he felt it might be healing, he’d be hit with a spell of such pain, he couldn’t move or breathe. Sometimes, it felt as though it lasted hours, others only minutes. In the end, Jherog simply knew he couldn’t take it anymore. Not only was he in constant pain, but he was seemingly also an outcast. Though no one was rude or unkind to him, beyond the odd hellos and surface talk, he was alone. Devra was barely speaking to him, only offering kindness when forced to around others. When there would be gatherings, he would be included, seated by her side, and she would parade him around as though he were the benevolent and supportive father she portrayed him to be. Everyone seemed to appreciate him, perhaps even respect him because of his ‘position’, but beyond that, there was nothing. The ironic and depressing fact was that the only individual who seemed to make an effort to be kind to him was Gahllagh.
“It must be challenging to watch your daughter become so beloved, almost like a deity,” he’d offered in sympathy.
“What’s that?” Jherog had asked, confused, having never heard the word or title before.
“Ummm, it’s a word we Riggans use to describe something otherworldly. Like a celestial being, or one of divine power,” he explained.
“And that’s what you think my Devra is?” Gahllagh had shrugged.
“Isn’t she?” And Jherog couldn’t respond because he had no way to argue otherwise, especially with all he’d known and experienced. He watched as each creature joining them on their venture south hung on her every word, ready to follow each and any command she declared necessary to bring the light. Certain that her gifts were to bring peace and prosperity for all. And all Jherog was gifted with was time. Time to reflect and ruminate on all he’d seen and experienced since having taken Vedra under his care. From the moment she’d approached him after the attack on Grindl. She’d been this lost youngling, searching for her family, and he’d taken her under his wing. Then she’d kissed him and abandoned him to go to Linden. And though it had been heartbreaking and challenging to move on, he did what he thought best. He’d begun building a life in Grindl, with… Jevlyn. He hadn’t thought of her in ages. She’d been nice, warm, and comforting. But he couldn’t deny, each time he’d lain with her, he thought of Devra. And she kept reinserting herself in his life - sending him mysterious and upsetting letters. Until she’d practically professed her love for him, as her mother had before her, and begged him to come and rescue her. How could he not? But of course, he arrived in Linden only to find her traumatized and damaged from some strange attack on the home and family she’d been living with, all of them murdered. And she refused to talk about it. He’d rescued her and kept her safe, all the while she had been forcing herself on him in a teasing manner. She refused to allow him access to her body but kept offering it in ways that made it nearly impossible to say no. And yet, somehow, he did. He respected and loved her too much. And then that first night, when she’d come to him as Derina. He’d been beyond confused, and worried about the consequences. He didn’t know if it was real, but he couldn’t say no. She’d practically forced herself on him. And it had been magical. More than magical. It had been otherworldly. Jherog grew excited as the memory replayed in his mind. He could feel excitement brewing in his loins but then was met with a blinding pain. He winced and must have made a small noise as Gahllagh turned to him. “Are you alright?” He asked stupidly. Jherog wished he had the strength to glare at him, but he kept his eyes shut, trying to force the pain away. Another shot of pain, emanating from his hip coursed through the entire left side of his body. He yelled out in frustration. Gahllagh moved to his side. “What can I do?” Jherog shook his head, no.
“Nothing,” he told him. “It’ll pass.”
“I will get Devra,” he said and moved to go. He was gone before Jherog could speak up, the pain too strong. He remained seated until Gahllagh came back, alone. “She can’t get away right now,” he told him, a sorrowful tone in his voice. “She’s quite busy with…”
“Oh stop it Gahllagh!” He yelled and Gahllagh moved back in surprise. “Just leave me!” He opened his eyes to see Gahllagh struggle with his next move. Finally, he could glare at him, and he left. The pain continued to throb as he stood and moved to go back to his wagon, his cell, his prison. He struggled up the few steps. When he finally made it in, he slammed the door behind him, shaking the whole wagon. A sudden bolt of pain stemming from his hip reached down through his leg and up into his chest. It felt as though his heart were about to explode. He fell to his knees and couldn’t stop the tears from coming. It hurt beyond words, and he didn’t know how to stop it. He crawled over to his makeshift bed and cried until the pain subsided, or he fell asleep, whichever came first.
He woke sometime later to a thunderous roar outside the wagon. He quickly jumped to his feet, unsure what he’d heard. It roared again. It sounded like a war cry, or something to that effect. He moved over to the door and tried to open it, but it wouldn’t budge. Had it been locked from the outside? The thunderous roars turned into screaming and hollering. Was there fighting? He tried desperately to open the window at least, to be able to see what was happening, and it took a few tries, but it finally pushed open. Jherog looked out to see everyone hooting and hollering in joy. They all seemed to carry a libation of some kind. They were celebrating. He could hear music not far off, laughter, singing, all kinds of joyous noises. He tried the door again and found it impossible to open. He reached his hand through the window and tried it from there, but still, it wouldn’t budge.
“Father!” Devra’s voice yelled out above others. Jherog looked up to see her coming toward the wagon. Gahllagh, Delix, and Galrea by her side. All were smiling. “Are you stuck?” She laughed and the others joined her.
“You’re missing a grand celebration!” Gahllagh shouted and Devra glared over at him. Gahllagh shrugged apologetically and then moved to leave, motioning the others to follow him. Jherog watched them leave and looked back at Devra. There was something different about her. Her smile quickly disappeared as she moved closer to him. With a flick of her wrist, the door loosened, and Jherog stepped back as she opened it and joined him in the wagon.
“How are you feeling, father?” She asked with a strange tone in her voice. She flicked her wrist and there was a sudden stabbing pain in his hip. He doubled over until it finally stopped. When he looked back at Devra, there was a sinister smile on her face.
“You can control the pain?” He asked, incredulous.
“Why would I want to be able to do that?” She asked, stepped closer, and flicked her wrist again. And again, the stabbing pain returned. He held himself up this time, squinting his eyes, trying to shut the pain out. It finally subsided and he took a deep breath.
“Why?” He begged. “What have I done to deserve…”
“This is a celebration!” She interrupted him and laughed. “Can you not hear all of them rejoicing?”
“What for?” He was afraid to ask, but couldn’t help himself. He was afraid of what her answer might be, for he never knew what to expect from her anymore. His tiny, timid, and fearful Devra was gone. She’d clearly been gone for some time. Having been replaced with this cruel, unfeeling, and anger-ridden creature. It was as though he were just realizing it now, though she’d likely changed some time ago. He just wasn’t sure why, or how, or when.
“For me!” She told him. “Isn’t it wonderful father?” Each time she gave him the title, the word oozed from her lips with deep contempt. “Aren’t you happy for me?” He slowly nodded, unsure how to navigate the conversation.
“Of course,” he lied. “All I’ve ever wanted is your happiness,” he professed.
“Ha!” She yelled loudly. The door suddenly closed behind her and she moved to his side. He froze as her hand came to the back of his head, as though holding it up for him. He felt her lips against his ear and shivers ran up and down his spine. “Do you really believe that?” She whispered. He nodded.
“Always,” he avowed. “Everything I am and do is for you.”
“Really?” She practically yelled in his ear and he tried to move away, but she held him in place. “Everything?” He nodded slowly. She slowly stepped back, looking him up and down, a sharp disdain in her eyes. She stopped and then suddenly smiled.
“I’m a marvel,” she proclaimed. “A revelation!” She moved towards a bowl of belberries and began popping them into her mouth. “And thanks to you, I’m even more,” she popped another into her mouth and he saw the belberry juice explode. It was bright red, and the dripping down her chin made it look as though she were bleeding from her lips. “Don’t you want to know what that means?” Jherog remained still. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. She swallowed the last of the belberry and stood. “Well,” she started. “My powers have grown, and continue to do so,” she explained. She flicked her wrist and the pain in his hip began to pulse. She smiled and began opening and closing her fist as the pain began throbbing, following her cues, radiating the pain up and down the left side of his body. “It turns out I can do a lot more than just conjure and throw fire,” she bragged. Jherog tried his hardest to remain still and not show any pain. She watched him, not a care in the world, and then suddenly curled her fingers as though gripping onto something. The pain intensified and burned. Jherog yelled out and fell to his knees. “And apparently,” she continued. “If I use my powers on someone,” she continued twisting her curled fingers and Jherog began to sweat, still yelling out in hopes of deflecting the pain. “It creates some sort of connection,” she told him as she walked closer to him again. Jherog looked up at her and swore he could see a twinkling of joy in her eyes. How and why had she become so cruel? “And I can…” she loosened her fingers and the pain lessened. “Control the connection.” She let her hand fall and the pain disappeared. Jherog let out a sigh of relief and fell, landing on his hands to bring himself softly to the floor. He was out of breath and felt exhausted. He wanted to cry and tried his best to hold it back. “Isn’t it amazing?” She asked. He simply whimpered. The wagon quieted and singing and celebration could be heard outside. “And that's all for me!” She sighed. Jherog groaned as he brought himself back up to his knees.
“Devra,” he started and she quickly turned to face him again. He didn’t know what to say. There was too much to say, but he had to navigate it carefully. He no longer knew this creature before him. She clearly detested him, though he didn’t understand why. “This connection,” he started. “What does it mean?”
“It means you are completely under my control,” she announced with such confidence and superiority. Jherog gave a small laugh and grin.
“Haven’t I always?” He joked, but clearly, she didn’t like it as he felt a sudden pain in his side. “I just,” he struggled to speak and the pain subsided. “I simply meant that I have always done your bidding.” He looked at her, trying to show her how much he loved her, missed her, and cared for her. “I’ve been there for you since that day in Grindl,” he started. It looked as though her eyes and demeanor were softening, and he felt a sliver of hope. “You came to me so lost, alone, afraid.” He thought he saw her laugh but then it was gone. She watched him as he slowly moved toward her. “And we… we became a family,” he reminded her. She had to remember the care they’d had for one another. “We were parted for a short while, yes, as you explored other opportunities, but then I found you.” He hesitated, unsure how to say what he felt next. “I rescued you, remember?” He moved a step closer and she looked away. Was she ashamed? Or perhaps just searching her mind for the memory. “Remember Linden? And the terrible Gigan what attacked you?” He was so close. He could feel her energy. It was nervous but calm, and so he strived to remain so also. “I think this power,” he began again, inching closer and taking her hand in his. She hesitated and seemed to want to pull away, but he held her. “This power, it’s changed you,” he lowered his voice to a whisper. He paused and their eyes finally met. And there they were, the eyes that had always captivated him. The lush green, alluring eyes that always pulled him in. “Perhaps it’s corrupted you,” he started but then stammered when he saw her reaction. “It’s not your fault,” he assured her. He pulled her in for a hug and she allowed it. Perhaps he was getting through to her. He felt relieved. “None of this is your fault,” he whispered. “But we can fix it. Together.” He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and kissed the top of her head. “Together…”
“I am to have a youngling,” she suddenly blurted and Jherog stopped short. He froze and didn’t know how to respond or react. Could it be true? He remained still as he processed his thoughts and feelings. There was so much joy desperate to burst from him. Finally, he was to have a youngling, and though it wasn’t to be with Derina, his true love, Devra was the next best thing, wasn’t she? A youngling! He felt his face break into a huge smile as he stepped back from her. He looked down, wanting to meet her eyes, but she averted her own. Was she angry? Scared? “Now you can understand what all of the celebration is for.” She turned away from him, toward the door. Was she going to leave? Surely not, after revealing such news. He reached out for her. “What an astonishing revelation considering I’ve never lain with anyone,” she blurted and turned to look at him. Her face was severe, determined. Her eyes were begging to show emptiness, but there was something hidden behind them. Jherog moved toward her and she stepped back, making him stop in his tracks. “As though a powerful being, even more powerful than I, deemed it necessary to prove my divinity to everyone.” Was she joking?
“Devra…”
“No!” She yelled. He stopped and felt his heart skip, from fear or sadness, he couldn’t be sure. But the excitement he’d felt only seconds ago was almost gone. She looked away again. “Can’t you see, that’s the only way it’s come to be,” she begged. Her voice was desperate. Tears were filling her eyes, but she was refusing to let them fall. “Otherwise, the only other possibility is…” she stopped and pushed herself to stand taller. She looked at him. “Father.” He wanted to take her in his arms. He wanted to hold onto her tightly and assure her everything would be okay. He wanted to take her far away from everything, back to Grindl perhaps, so they could raise their youngling together. Be a real family. But she stood tall, a mixed look of indifference and disgust across her face.
“Devra, my lov…”
“No!” She interrupted him again. She looked away and shook her head. “This wasn’t part of the plan,” she whispered to herself.
“What plan?” He asked. She seemed distracted. She was muttering to herself. “What plan, Devra?” He repeated and stepped forward, but she flicked her wrist and ignited the pain again. It was like fire. Excruciating. There was no way to speak or think through it. He fell to his knees, looking up at her. She was simply staring at him.
“You ruined everything!” She yelled, and the fire burned hotter, and the pain intensified. She moved to stand over him, moving her fist in a circling motion, the throbbing pain moving up and down his body at her command. He looked up at her, wanting to beg her to stop, but he couldn’t form the words and simply yelled out. She came even closer and he saw them, the flames. Her irises were bright red and fierce, the flames having taken over all of the beautiful green. And suddenly, her hair began moving, imitating the fire in her eyes. And then it too turned to flames. “You think me a fool!” She yelled. He wanted to protest and ask her what she was talking about, but he could only yell and scream. She stepped closer and he wanted to move further back. The sight of her frightened him. She didn’t look like herself, or even his Derina. A strange creature of fire stood before him and he wished he could run. She knelt down in front of him and opened her hand, curling her fingers, a look beyond anger across her face. The pain moved ever upward and reached into his heart. He could feel its beat quicken. The heat was too much. “You thought I didn’t know?” She asked him, her voice low, harsh. “You didn’t think she’d tell me?” He hadn’t a clue what she was talking about. The pain was becoming too much and he screamed, louder than he ever thought he had in his entire life. “You thought you were free…” She reached her other hand out and he could feel his body moving. She stood, keeping a close eye on him the entire time. Before he knew it, he was in upright, hovering a few feet above the floor, his knees bent, his feet dangling behind him. He was floating at the perfect height to meet her eye. She huffed. “You thought you were free,” she laughed and then brought both palms to face each other. The pain exploded and he could have sworn he felt his heart explode. And then all went black.
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Ⓒ July 2023. Beki Lantos. All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, or transmitted in any form by any means without prior written permission of the author.