The Red Soul

Chapter Three

Blinking due to the sudden, bright light of the sun's rays looming on her face from behind her, Myris opened her eyes. Her head was pounding and both her ankle and her arm complained about every movement she made. But fresh air welcomed her, making sure she could focus.

Slowly she looked around her as the room became less blurry. She lay on an L-shaped oak table standing in the middle of a small room. Under her head, she felt a soft pillow and her fingers covered a velvet blanket. The part of the table by her feet was littered with all kinds of spices and herbs she had never seen before. In addition to the herbs, she saw a chopping board with a knife lying next to it. The knife was graceful and beautiful, full of engravings and seemed to have just been used. The beautiful object was very different from her blunt knife.

But as she observed the knife, she realized with a shock what happened and what kind of dangerous place she was in. Olèrian... she was in the dreaded Olèrian.

Immediately she tried to get up to grab the knife, but to her fear, no movement came into her arms and legs. Her wounds still hurt, but that was not the reason she couldn’t move. No... It was as if she was tied up with invisible ropes.

Her breathing stopped. Magic. That was magic. She began to shake back and forth wildly, trying to break free from the invisible grip. She tried it with all the strength that she still had in her, but did not succeed. Beginning to hyperventilate, she wrung her body in all possible directions, but nothing happened. A scream left her mouth.

Fast footsteps came in her direction and a door was thrown open, but she did not look at who it was and kept struggling. She tried to break loose like a madman.

Suddenly the pressure that held her disappeared and she fell off the table. She was caught just in time by two slender hands, but she put her hands away and crawled into a corner. Fear raced through her body and she covered her face with her arms.

She waited until she would be roughly tied up again; until someone would grab her again and lock her up. However, nothing happened.

Shakily, she lowered her arms ever so slightly.

A handsome young man with honey-like skin was watching her from the other side of the room. He wore a brown jacket with a simple, dark green shirt. His black trousers and brown boots were dirty as if he had sat in the earth with his knees. His blueish black hair covered his right eye, but Myris could see his left eye and the green eye also looked at her. Then she saw his pointy ears. The boy was also a Fae, a Fae who could do what he wanted with her now.

He did not move. Nevertheless, she reached with her hand around her and threw the first object she could get a hold on towards him. The sound of shattering glass filled the room when a glass jar fell apart before his feet.

He looked at it in surprise for a few seconds, but then kneeled on the ground. Quietly he picked up as many shards as possible as if it were a normal accident. Then he walked out of the room and came back with a broom. As if Myris was not there at all, he began to sweep all the mess together.

A minute passed, while the boy paid no attention to her.

Silently she sat still in the corner and felt her heart and breathing become calmer. She kept watching the boy, but in the meantime, she could not help letting her eyes roamed through the room again. It was made of light grey, almost white stones. In the middle of the left wall, a small fireplace was built, above which a shiny black kettle hung. The edges of the fireplace all had strange symbols on them. She recognized them as runes, had seen similar ones in the black tower. But she did not know what they meant or what their purpose was.

The cauldron was simmering but left no smell, and Myris could not see what was in it. She did not want to see what was in it. The cauldron itself did not make her feel at ease. That's why she let her eyes slide further.

In addition to the fireplace, small cupboards were full of glasses and pots. Some were filled with ingredients she recognized as ginger, but others were stuffed with fur or scales, liquids in all colours, and something that looked alarmingly like blood.

She heard some shuffling and immediately she turned her attention back to the boy, who was still busy cleaning everything up. He still left her alone, which made her calm down even more.

The wall to the right of her consisted of large wooden cabinets, but in these were mainly books. She could not read the titles that were on it. The signs on it were much more ornate than the letters she knew and seemed to come from a different language.

Behind her, she saw the cause of the sun rays and the fresh wind. In the wall against which she was sitting, there was a large arched window. It did not contain glass.

In each corner of the room, there was a large, light brown pillar. The capitals of the pillars were connected to wooden beams, over which ivy hung. The green stems possessed all kinds of different herbs that Myris also saw on the table.

Beautiful flowers were among the green leaves. Some of them she recognized as normal roses or tulips. The others see had never seen, like a purple flower with a yellow core that seemed to give light. All the flowers seemed to be carefully placed as if the owner was very prudent and proud of it.

This whole room seemed to scream supernatural. It screamed magic. Yet, she had to admit that the room was beautiful.

With a last faltering breath, she lowered her arms. Now that the panic was gone, she could feel her wound again. It felt worse than before... if that was even possible.

“Who are you?” she hissed through the pain.

He did not say anything but did stop sweeping. He put the broom aside and went to the cauldron. With a slender hand, he grabbed a spoon and dipped it in the liquid that had to be in it. When he took him out, Myris saw a white substance that resembled something like milk but was much thinner.

He carefully took a step towards her.

Immediately she pressed her back against the wall. “Don’t you dare. Stay away from me!” She tried to get up and run away, but pain shot through her. She heard the rattling sound of the spoon falling on the floor, and again she felt his hands grabbing her. This time she let the boy take her and put her in a chair, while she was trying to erase the black spots from her vision.

When she could see again, she saw his silent supplication. He held a new spoon with the white substance and held it for her.

Myris opened her mouth to refuse, but he responded faster than she expected. Suddenly the spoon was at her mouth and the liquid slipped inside her. The liquid was warm, but it did not burn. It had no taste but was also not bad. When she swallowed, she felt it flow through her whole body, but instead of feeling more pain, she felt it sink away a little. She suddenly had new energy and everything became clearer in her head, but the pain was still there.

She looked at the boy furiously.

The male laid away the spoon, showing her an apologetic look, but he did not let her recover. Immediately, he picked up her arm, to study the now fully red and moist bandage around it. Then he lowered himself and touched her ankle carefully.

Flinching at the touch, she hissed at him. The fall from the other male’s arms had indeed made her ankle worse. It looked purple and swollen.

The green eye looked at her again, grabbing her arm a bit firmer. Slowly, he began to unwrap the bandage.

Myris clenched her jaw as tears started to appear in the corners of her eyes. She wanting to run away but sat still. If she moved her arm now, it would only hurt more.

When the male had removed the fabric, her open wound stung again and blood immediately began the cover her arm, seeping in over the sides onto the table.

A painful, but also astonished cry left Myris’ mouth when the boy put his hand over the wound. The tears left her eyes due to the stinging pain. She looked at him, wanted to plead to let her arm go and to not hurt her anymore, but before she could say anything, she felt a warm glow around her.

Green light hovered around her arm. The colour stroked her skin, danced around her, and let the pain sink. The smell of vanilla and roses penetrated her nose. She closed her eyes. The sensation felt great. Her whole body warmed and all the pain seemed to be sucked out of her. She felt calm and safe, if only for a second.

The young man released her arm and the green light disappeared, but the pain did not come back.

She looked at her arm in astonishment, turning it around carefully. The ugly wound was gone. Only the streams of blood showed that her arm had been open a couple of seconds ago. For the rest, there was nothing more to be seen. Her ankle also did not hurt anymore and her head was healed too.

In her head, she repeated what had just happened and her eyes widened in fright. He had just used magic.

With her new energy, she pushed the boy away from her and sprinted to the door as fast as she could. As she passed the edge of the table, she grabbed the beautiful knife and took it with her.

Before the boy could do anything, she raced into the hall and ran blindly in all directions.

The unknown halls were decorated with flowers and paintings, but they seemed only a blur of colour when she flew past them. Adrenaline streamed through her veins, just like in the forest, as she went through the next corridor. It looked like a maze. A maze of corridors and stairs.

Misfortune seemed to assist her. She had escaped, but immediately she was stuck again, and this time in a worse place. Yet, it was not how she imagined it. She had expected dark corridors where she could hardly see anything. She had expected shrieks and screams to come out of the stones, blood-curdling. Nightmares and terror. Not this pleasant, light atmosphere. She shook it off. It was probably a lie, an illusion they had created to misguide her.

At a junction, she decided to turn right and went down a large staircase. Only more corridors and rooms appeared in front of her, but she did not want to look into the rooms, afraid it would take up too much of her precious time and to prevent that she indeed would see something that the stories told about. She only wanted to find the door that led outside.

She shot into another hallway but was stopped by something hard. She cursed as she fell backwards and landed on her butt. But she was not the only one who called out execrations.

A hissing sound came from the mouth of a young woman who rubbed her head. When she saw Myris, her clear, blue eyes grew big and she wanted to open her mouth.

Panicking, Myris stood up and ran past her, pushing the woman who was about to stand up again back on the floor.

“Wait!” Myris heard in the corridor behind her, but she carried on as fast as she could. She had to leave, had to go away from all the monsters that could live here. She did not look back to see if the young woman was coming after her.

Swaying, she flew around a column and could stop just in time before she fell over a balustrade, which could have caused a great fall. The stone balustrade looked out over a large hall, which contained many archways that provided access to the other parts of the building. A large staircase led to the last descent to the ground floor where a gigantic, dark door was half open and looked like the door she was looking for. The door that would lead her out.

Myris rushed straight to it.

The fresh wind received her welcomingly when she slowed her pace with a beating heart. She gasped and had to catch her breath before continuing. Just for a moment. She used the short break to study her new surroundings and her mouth fell open. With wide eyes, she looked at the mountains that surrounded her and the building she had fled from.

It was not an ordinary building. It was a castle. A giant castle resting on a big mountain, amidst a circle of even more gigantic mountains.

The castle had many towers and the same glassless arched windows as those in the room where they had just run out. A bridge overflowed to another, somewhat smaller, mountain where an isolated part of the castle stood on. Although the stones of the castle itself were lighter than those of the mountain, there were still grey boulders everywhere at the bottom of the castle, as if it had been hewn out of the mountain. This also applied to the bridge to the smaller mountain and another, larger bridge, which made it possible to enter the square in front of the castle where she was now; a bridge that stretched in front of her the moment she walked through the door.

Myris walked to the bridge and leaned over it. The mountain where the castle stood was surrounded by a beautiful lake that was accompanied by a waterfall, which flowed from a back mountain. But instead of roaring, it did not make a lot of noise, only a pleasant splashing of the water. At the edge of the mountains and the lake, there was a lot of land filled with fruit trees and all kinds of different flowers. It seemed soothing, peaceful even. As if it were not affected by the cruel world that existed outside. But she would not fall for it.

She turned and sprinted to the end of the bridge, freedom within her reach, but all the blood disappeared from her face when she saw the mountain where the bridge led. No door. No opening. Nothing. Just a wall.

When she reached the mountain, she dropped the knife on the ground and rubbed frantically over the rough stone with her hands, desperately searching for a slit, groove, or something else that would create a passageway for her, but there was nothing at all.

Taking a few steps to the side, she placed her hand on parts where there were grooves in the stone and rocks sticking out, trying to hoist herself up.

However, footsteps behind her made her turn around, and she hissed when she cut her hand against a sharp edge of the same material that blocked her way. The boy with the bluish-black hair was looking at her from a safe distance with a gloomy look in his eyes.

Now she was completely enclosed. Her eyes shifted towards the knife that lay at her feet, grabbing it again with her hand that had not been cut. It shone in the light of the sun and felt lighter than expected. She looked from the knife to the boy and back again.

The boy seemed to realize what she was considering and raised his hands as surrender, but he did not leave. On the contrary, he went slowly to her.

Myris her body quivered, and she held the knife more ahead as the boy came closer and closer. Her legs buckled, did not grant her that last piece of power and the upper hand. Probably because she did not have it.

She knew how to fight, had done it often enough. But that was with weapons... not with magic, and certainly not against a Fae. Myris did not have to weight her chances because she knew she did not have one.

The boy held her gaze and came a little closer. He was only a few steps away from her, their arms almost touching each other.

Screaming, Myris ran towards him, hooking her leg behind his and making him trip. As he fell backwards and landed on his back, she lay her knee on his chest and raised the knife.

She wanted to make the next move, wanted to put the blade in his chest. But she could not. She could not move her arm to lower the knife as she looked at the boy below her. Still silent, he did not move. His arms stayed at his sides, not a single finger raised as a sign of resistance. No shaking her off or kicking around. A small smile even spread across his face, giving her a pitiful look.

The hand that was holding the knife began to shake. Why was she able to hurt Fyrian without hesitation? She had been in a worse state with him, but she had been able to wound him- had tried to kill him if she had the strength for it. And now she had that power… yet she could not do it with the boy laying on the ground at her mercy.

Noticed her lack of perseverance, he grabbed her arm without saying anything and brought it down, while at the same time pushing himself off the floor. Sitting on his knees beside her, he laid her against his chest.

Not daring to move, Myris breath haltered, until the boy began to draw reassuring circles on her back. The same green light appeared, making her hand tingle. Looking down, she saw the skin of her palm stretching. It was reattaching. Healing, like the wound on her arm.

When the cut was closed and the green light had disappeared, Myris looked up at the male holding her. Then she cried. She cried in his arms as the unknown male silently kept consoling her.

Myris didn’t know what she had gotten herself into, but it was the opposite of what she had expected. She had thought that Fyrian would bring her to someone who would torture her and then kill her. Not to a Fae who would heal her and then later take her in his arms to console her, while she had stolen his knife and almost killed him.

Sobbing, she let go of the boy and looked at him. His lips formed a small smile as he stroked her shoulder with his thumb. She could see his other eye too, and the green eyes shone full of kindness. Calmness slid over her, which she did not even know she still had in her. He had not killed her, even though he would not get a better chance. On the contrary, he had helped her. Maybe it was with magic, but he had helped her.

With a final doubting glance, she looked around her and sat up, so that he had to let go of her. “You're not bad, are you?”

Although he still said nothing, he shook his head slightly. Waiting for what would be her next step, he looked at her calmly.

Despite being still afraid of where she was, she was also curious now. He had given her a chance. He had given her the chance to escape, given her the chance for freedom. Maybe that was because he knew she was not going to get far in the first place, but something told her that it had to do with the kindness that radiated from him. He had helped her. Maybe this was her most stupid decision ever, but she would give him a chance too. With one wrong move, she was gone again.

“You can’t talk, can you?”

For a second, he sat unmoved, but then he shook his head softly. His eyes looked sad for a second, but that soon made way for the soothing friendliness and now also his own curiosity.

“Did someone do that to you?”

It was perhaps a personal question, but she had to know. It might give her a hint about how things went around here; whether something had hurt him. She had to know what to expect here, although she probably would not be able to handle it anyway.

The boy nodded his head.

A sound that held it between a shriek and a cough came out of her mouth. So, it was dangerous. But that could also mean that the boy did not do anything to her, because he could be a victim- perhaps a possible ally.

She thought deeply about the following questions she would ask, even though she had an infinite number of them.

The young man simple stared at her with a smile, as if to let her know that she did not have to hurry.

“Are we in Olèrian?”

The young man raised his eyebrow and nodded. A wave of fear ran over her again, but she did not show it. She needed to have it confirmed. If he did not hurt her, instead helped her, she needed to get as much information as she could. So, she moved back and forth and continued with the questions

“Is it dangerous here?”

The boy did not move, his eyebrows half frowned. When she kept waiting for an answer, the boy waved his hand around him, gesturing to the mountains and the castle, and then higher, to what lay behind the mountains.

She understood his hint and clarified her question. “Is it where we are right now dangerous?” she asked instead, referring to the building where they were located, within the mountains circle.

The boy seemed to understand her now and shook his head again.

Myris’ heart became more and more even, but she had to stay on her guard- she first had to know everything. “Are there other places in Olèrian that are dangerous?” She held her breath as the boy studied her as if he knew what she thought of this place.

He nodded.

She could have seen it coming, but she could not say that her previous place was safe. Yet, she did not want to think about the things that made it dangerous. Not now, not when the boy could also be dangerous, even though she began to think more and more that he was not.

She knew her next question. “Are you dangerous?”

Seconds went by while Myris kept a close eye on the boy. The boy himself seemed to be conflicted with this question. Eventually, he nodded again. Very slow and almost unnoticed, but he nodded.

Somewhere Myris felt a shiver crawl down her spine again, but it was only for a moment. She felt that the boy wanted to tell a lot more than he could. As if he wanted to comfort her... and himself as well.

He rubbed his hands and looked at her. When he saw that she was not about to run away again or attack him, he breathed out, gratefulness visible in his eyes.

Myris did not know why she did not run away now. She preferred to climb over the mountains, but there was a certain feeling in her that kept her from it. She had a strange feeling as if something was pulling her to this place. There was a big change that it the magic that called her and that made her uneasy.

“Do you know Fyrian?”

The name came out snarling and the boy got a bit paler, but he nodded.

“Are you two friends?”

This time he nodded resolutely as if he were not afraid to admit it. As if he was proud of it.

So, it was true. Fyrian had brought her to his friends or his allies. Who else would be in the castle except for this male before her?

It all seemed like a big joke. As if she was dreaming, or more like a nightmare. As if she was asleep, but would wake up quickly in a warm bed, or probably back in the room with the black walls as if she had never left.

She looked at the knife that was still in her hand. Maybe it was foolish, but she wanted to go to Fyrian. Even if it was only to stab that knife in him because he had kidn*pped her. She had to have more answers. She would later see the consequences. If she died soon, she wanted it to happen after she had given him a black eye. And so, she looked at the boy with the black hair and his green eye again.

“Where is he?”