A Faerie Tale VI

Aelysia sat pressed as close to the bed as she could without being on top of it. Clasped tightly between both of her hands was that of the pale figure who slept fitfully before her. She wore her finest dress, and had her hair pulled up with only two curly parts of her bangs hanging loose. Orindain had once, long ago, made a somewhat positive comment about both the dress and hairstyle. Now she sat impatiently waiting for him to awaken, see her, and smile. It was a love so deep, no power in existence could ever force her to see that it was unrequited.

For his part, Orin's awareness was far removed from that room, that faerie princess who adored him, his own sweat drenched body. In his mind he dreamt of a nameless face, one that he had only seen for a few moments before collapsing after pouring every bit of his life that he could into that lovely creature. Though barely conscious and covered in her own blood, her beauty was a fire that burned away all desire in him for anything but her. He longer to hold her. To kiss her. To possess her.

Far above the room, in his chambers atop the central tower, Eleison sat with head in hands. He knew what was transpiring in that room below, saw with clarity and certainty how these two conflicting passions held by Aelysia and Orindain would end. Awareness was his curse. As was silence. The past remained ever present to him. He alone of all the Elder Fae, those who were there at their beginnings, knew what happened then. How they lost what they were to become what they are. And why. He could not speak of it. No matter how hard he tried, were he to attempt to mention such things, his mouth would not open.

The future as well was laid out completely before him. But again, if he tried to speak of such things, the words would not come out. It was forbidden by one with the power to seal his mouth. It was not a punishment, though at times it seemed as such. This was a willing sacrifice he had chosen, for the sake of the Fae. At the moment, it was pure torture. He could not warn his king. He could not say the words he knew would stop the prince. He could not save the princess from this course she was on.

He had no need for hope to sustain him, he knew absolutely that the conclusion of these events would lead to what he longed for. What all the Fae longed for, though they knew it not. But the getting there… why did he have to know what it would take to get there?