Fairyfly II - 8. Mind Games

The dawn was breaking as the old, rickety cart reached the outskirts of Thenelle, drawn by Quinn’s trusty horse. Aside from the guard, there were two other passengers: Rulf, tied up and sleeping on the floor of the cart, and Norius, huddled in the corner, quiet and distant.

While Quinn was hopeful that his plan would finally come to fruition and that he would be one step closer to becoming a prince, the old king did not allow himself the luxury of hope. He was silent the whole way, his stony face unflinching. He had no love for sorcerers, yet now, in a cruel twist of fate, he had to rely on another one. Aside from the distrust he felt toward magic users, there was something else that ate away at Norius, something he would never admit to anyone – he was afraid. The sorceress was supposedly able to perform mind control, which made her especially dangerous in his eyes. Was he supposed to simply allow her to enter his mind and alter his thoughts? What if she made him soft and weak? What if she caused him to forget everything that is important to him, everything that made him the person he was? Would regaining his sight really be worth it?

It was more than once that the old king wanted to jump out of the cart and flee from Quinn. He would find another way to get revenge on Esthor and Loreena and get his throne back. But he knew such thoughts were nothing more than foolish fantasies. As much as he was loath to admit it, he depended on Quinn, at least for the time being. He had no choice but to go along with the guard’s plans.

The cart came to a stop and Quinn promptly got off, looking at the grand house before him, standing tall and proud behind a stone fence. With ornate pillars and arches, large windows and balconies, the word mansion perhaps suited it better. In front of it, there was a well-maintained garden with manicured trees and bushes.

“We’re here,” the guard announced as he walked over to help Norius out of the cart. “At least I think so. It fits the description.”

With a murmured acknowledgment, the king held onto the other man until he was out, pleased to have his feet back on solid ground.

“What, don’t tell me you’re still having second thoughts about this, Norius?”

“It’s not your mind she’s going to mess with,” the older man retorted.

“It’s the only way, unless you can come up with another solution,” Quinn replied impatiently. He was getting tired of the king’s indecisiveness. If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought the man was a coward. Annoyed, he walked to the other side of the cart and grabbed the Lykos, shaking him awake.

“Come on, wake up! We’re here,” he ordered, shouting until Rulf came to his senses.

Opening his bleary eyes, the auburn-haired man looked up, trying to figure out what was happening. His head was still spinning from whatever substance was used to put him to sleep. Once he came to his senses, he took a good look at the man who had abducted him, seeing his face for the first time. There was no doubt that he had seen him somewhere, but he could not figure out where.

As he tried to move, Rulf quickly realized his hands and legs were tied up with rope. Even if he didn’t feel like the town drunk after a long night at the inn, he would have had little hope of escaping.

“Where are we?” he asked, looking around. He could tell they were still somewhere in the capital, though he had trouble recognizing the neighborhood.

“Doesn’t matter. Come on, let’s go. Hope you didn’t think I’d leave you here alone,” Quinn replied curtly, getting him out of the cart with a little more force than necessary. Having to watch over two grown men was not something he ever planned for himself, but it was a necessary sacrifice. When he eventually marries Amelia and becomes royalty, his parents and he will never have to work again. He will give them the life they deserve. The life he deserves.

The three men walked the short stony path to the gate, where three armed guards quickly appeared, barring the entrance.

“State your name and purpose,” one of them ordered. He was tall and burly, holding a hand on his sword. The other two were just as large, weilding a poleaxe each.

“My name is… Wrenn, and this is Rulf. We beg for the audience of sorceress Lyra, as we have heard that only she can help my poor father,” Quinn responded, trying his best to adopt a pleading tone.

“Wait here,” the sword-wielding guard said, glancing between the three strange men with distrust. One of them had a blindfold, while the other’s hands and legs were tied. Mastress Lyra would certainly be curious about them, he thought as he strode back into the house. He returned shortly, signaling to the other two guards to open the gates and let the visitors in.

When they finally entered the mansion, neither Rulf nor Quinn could refrain themselves from sneaking glances all around them, observing the wealth and luxury in which the sorceress seemed to be living. Painted royal blue and gold, rooms were furnished with lavish sofas and cabinets. Heavy tapestries hung on the walls, along with gold-framed paintings of landscapes. Everything in the mansion seemed designed to draw attention.

Rulf couldn’t help but scoff, thinking how garish and tasteless it all seemed. He suddenly came to miss the simple home he shared with Esthor. Even more than that, he missed the sorcerer’s gentle touch, the way he kissed him, the elegance with which he moved. It felt as if they had been separated for ages. There was nothing he wanted more than to have him in his arms again.

The guards ushered them into another lavish room with large windows and a balcony overlooking the garden behind the house. A blond woman was splayed out on a wine-red sofa, while two muscular, shirtless men stood on each side, fanning her with palm leaves. It was all Quinn could do not to laugh at the ridiculous scene before him, but he knew he had to remain serious. If the woman was as powerful as she appeared to be, he could not risk angering her.

“Well, what do we have here?” the sorceress sat up, eyeing her visitors with curiosity. There was a smile on her face that neither Rulf nor Quinn could interpret. It looked pleasant and venomous at the same time, making the Lykos feel suspicious. “Who are you, gentlemen, and what do you want? Because you must want something, am I right?”

Clenching his jaw, Norius stood silently, not moving an inch. Even though he could not see the woman, he could already tell that he did not like her tone.

“You are,” Quinn nodded. “My name is Wrenn, I’m a farmer from Amberfell. I am here to beg for your help. This here is my father, and as you can see, he was cursed. We heard you might be able to help him get this blindfold off so that he might see again.”

“He’s lying! He abducted me!” Rulf could not help himself. Every moment he spent in the company of the two despicable men made him more and more sick.

“Quiet, you thief!” Quinn shouted back, sending the Lykos a death glare.

“Enough,” Lyra spoke calmly, letting out a soft chuckle as her yellow eyes traveled across the three men and the guards standing behind them, preventing them from leaving. With slow and deliberate movements, she lifted herself up from the sofa and walked over, like a lion circling its prey before jumping at it.

“And what about you?” she asked, looking at Rulf and the ropes binding his hands and ankles. “Have you also been cursed, or are those ropes someone else’s doing? Although, I wouldn’t mind if we kept them on. It makes things more fun,” she winked at him as she eyed him from head to toe.

Rulf bit his tongue, refraining himself from giving her a nasty remark. The shameless look she was giving him made him feel nauseous. Being locked up in that basement suddenly didn’t feel so bad anymore.

“He’s a criminal, that’s why he’s constrained,” Quinn quickly responded before the Lykos could. “It’s for our own protection.”

“My, my, what a wonderfully strange lot you are!” Lyra replied, giggling, her eyes sparkling with something that looked like mischief. “A handsome criminal, a farmer… and the King of Alduin himself,” she added, looking at each of the men in front of her.

Quinn’s lips spread into a thin line, but he remained silent. He stood proudly, looking straight ahead, but did not dare speak again. None of the other men one did.

“Do you think me a fool?!” the sorceress spoke again, her shrill cry piercing the air. “You dare to come into my home, seek my help, and yet you lie to me?! Did you think I would not recognize the king? I should dispose of you on the spot!”

Rulf cautiously observed the woman as she started rapidly pacing across the room, her wild eyes going between Quinn and Norius. Somehow, he suspected that when she mentioned ‘disposing’ of them, she did not mean simply throwing them out and locking the gate behind them. She seemed unstable and prepared for anything. As he contemplated whether to risk speaking up and explaining the situation, he heard another voice.

“My lady, I apologize.”

It was Norius who spoke, for the first time since they arrived in Lyra’s home. His life was already ruined by one sorcerer, and he was not about to let another one kill him. What in hell did posess that fool Quinn to lie in the first place? If the woman could indeed do mind control, who’s to say she couldn’t also read minds? No, there was no use in trying to deceive her.

“It is true, I am indeed King Norius, but that is the only lie that my companion told. I must take blame for that, as I wanted to keep my identity a secret. You see, I was indeed cursed, and then… imprisoned by my very own queen. No one outside this room knows that I’ve managed to escape, and I was hoping to keep it that way.”

For a long while, Lyra did not say a word. Instead, she kept eyeing the former king, as if weighing whether his words were true or not. Finally, she raised the hand in which she held her magic wand and pointed at one of her guards.

“Dane, be a dear and take that silly blindfold off his face.”

The burly man approached Norius and, without thinking much of it, grabbed the fabric and pulled. However, all his efforts were in vain. It would not budge, no matter how hard he tried.

“Well, isn’t this interesting,” Lyra perked up instantly, as if greatly amused by the misfortune that befell the former king. She practically bounced over to him, raising her wand and pointing it at his head. No one spoke as she inspected the blindfold, eyeing it from all sides. “Looks like you’ve made some powerful enemies, my king,” she spoke.

Even though he could not see her, Norius could tell she was smiling by the sound of her voice. She was almost laughing at him, bloody witch! It took all of his strength to keep calm and not lash out.

“But the real question is, why would I help you?” the sorceress asked, getting so close to the king that her warm, fragrant breath tickled his ear. At that point, she had no further interest in the other two men. “I couldn’t care less if you spend the rest of your days blind like a bat.”

“I may be cursed, but should you help me, I would reward you handsomely as soon as I reclaim my throne. Riches like you’ve never seen before,” Norius replied confidently.

After a brief moment of silence, the sorceress burst into laughter, as if she had just heard the funniest joke of her life.

“Look around you, oh mighty king!” she cried out, the unintentional humor in her words going over her head. “With my powers, I can make any man or woman do as I command! Wealth is the least of my concerns.”

“Surely there must be something we can give you. Everyone has something they desire,” Quinn replied. No matter how powerful, everyone had a price. He knew that very well.

Snapping back to reality, Lyra suddenly turned to look at him. “You’re a clever one, huh?” she asked as she approached him. “Well, let me tell you a little secret, alright? My biggest problem in this life… is boredom. You see, when you get everything served to you on a silver platter, life gets awfully dull. There’s no excitement, no challenge. And that means - no fun.”

Quinn stood quietly, looking at the sorceress, waiting to see if she would make a point. In an instant, her face changed from serious to smiling, her eyebrows shooting up.

“So perhaps this is just what I needed! Helping a cursed king and his two peculiar friends. Oh, I never saw this coming! Yes, this should keep me amused, if only for a day. But of course, my help will come with a price.”

“Very well. State your terms,” Norius replied, giving the woman a slight nod.

“Now where would be the fun in that?” she chuckled. “No, I’ll tell you once I’m finished. Now! Let’s see what we can do here!”

Under the watchful eye of her guards, Lyra led Norius over to the sofa, where she sat him down. While he froze up like a statue, she calmly sat down next to him, fixing her long dress with both hands.

“Now, are you going to tell me what you did to find yourself in this predicament?” she asked.

The king could tell she was enjoying herself a little too much. He was being embarrassed, and there was nothing he could do but suffer in silence. Gods, how he had fallen! From a once proud and mighty king, he was reduced to a useless old man who had to depend on others for help. Once he regained his sight, nothing would save his treacherous wife and that sorcerer from his wrath!

“I can tell you,” Rulf suddenly spoke, unable to stay quiet any longer. He had to make sure the sorceress knew who she was dealing with. Perhaps he could still manage to convince her to help him. “He went mad after-”

“Ah-ah!” Lyra raised her hand, cutting him off. “I’m sure you can tell me everything, but that’s no fun. I want to hear it from the king himself. After all, he must have been a bad boy to deserve getting cursed and imprisoned. Well?”

“I most certainly did NOT deserve it,” Norius replied defiantly. How dare she make such assumptions about him! Feeling all of the hatred that he had been harboring for the past year come out to the surface once again, he gave Lyra the briefest account of what had happened, making sure to present himself in the best light possible. While Quinn stood by quietly and listened to the king talk, Rulf had to interject several times, calling the old man a liar and a tyrant.

“Everything I did was in the name of justice. But the bloody sorcerer who did this to me expects me to repent. Never!”

“Ahh, and therein lies the problem. I assumed the curse had an emotional element to it, and I was right,” Lyra said as she realized what she was dealing with. The curious smile from her face never vanished, as if she did not care one way or the other about the story Norius had just told her. He was simply a puzzle for her to solve, nothing more. “Now I understand why you’re so desperate for my help. You’re certainly incapable of handling this on your own. Dane, bring the potion, we’re going to need it.”

“What potion?” the old king asked nervously. He did not agree to consume any substances, especially something that was probably magical in nature.

“Worry not, it’s simply something to make it easier for me to get into your brain,” Lyra replied, but the king did not seem relieved one bit.

The guard returned shortly with a bronze goblet filled with a strange blue liquid. Norius took a few hesitant sips, half-expecting to fall into a trance or lose consciousness as soon as he did so. When nothing of the sort happened, he was encouraged to drink some more.

The potion, whatever it contained, seemed to work fast. In a matter of seconds, the old man began to feel dizzy, feeling as if he was floating high above the clouds. He flailed with his arms, desperate to hold onto something, when Lyra grabbed his hand to steady him.

“Worry not, it will wear off eventually. Now, lay your head back on the pillow and try not to think about anything,” the sorceress ordered him, pleased that he was turning out to be so obedient. “The sooner you free your mind, the faster I will be able to help you.”

Rulf and Quinn stood by and watched with bated breath as Lyra’s wand began to emit a slight glow as she pointed it at Norius’ head.

The sorceress was fully focused on the task at hand, penetrating into the farthest reaches of the old king’s mind. It was always fascinating to enter someone’s brain, see how they think and feel, and then change it to your own will. As soon as she entered Norius’ mind, Lyra was not surprised to see the king was poisoned with bitterness and desire for vengeance. The hatred was eating him from the inside, like a toxic parasite that fed on its host’s worst qualities. It was clear as day to her that Norius would never be able to get rid of the curse on his own.

Staring at the king, Lyra focused on his emotions, shaping them to her own will. All of the venom and hostility had to be replaced by forgiveness and repentance if the spell was ever going to work. Not a sound could be heard in the room as she worked her magic on the unmoving king.

Finally, she lowered her wand and nodded, seeming satisfied with her work.

“It is done.”

“Did it work,” Quinn asked. His eyes darted between the woman and the king, who still had not moved.

“We shall see in a moment. Norius, get up,” Lyra commanded.

Slowly, the old king lifted his head, feeling hazy yet strangely clear-headed at the same time. It took him a few moments to realize exactly where he was and what had happened. Once he did, he abruptly stood up, to the surprise of everyone but Lyra.

“What… what’s happening?” he mumbled as he turned around with outstretched arms. He made a few clumsy steps before returning to his previous spot.

“Calm down, Norius. How are you feeling?” the sorceress asked.

“I… how am I feeling?” he repeated after her, as if it was the strangest question he had ever been asked. He plopped back down onto the sofa, quiet as a mouse. His breathing was slow and deep, but his heart was racing. There were so many conflicting thoughts, so much confusion in his head, that he hardly knew where to begin. It was as if there were several different versions of him inhabiting his mind, but one of them was screaming, begging to be heard.

“Oh Gods…” he finally uttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “What have I done?... What have I done?”

Everything that had happened in the past year, it was as if he could see it in a brand new light. Arabella’s death, his tireless search for Fendrel, all of the fights with Esthor, Zane’s demise, his wife’s betrayal… All of it hurt so much. He had made so many bad decisions. How could he have fallen so hard? He could not even remember the last time he spoke to his two younger daughters, as he was so obsessed with hunting down the murderer of his eldest. What do they think of him now? Would they ever be able to forgive him and take him back?

“I am sorry,” he said in a raspy voice, realizing it was the first time he had uttered those words in years. “Truly sorry for what I did, all the pain I caused. I… I just wanted to avenge my daughter that I never… I never stopped to think about anyone else. My wife, Amelia and Ariana, they must despise me. They must think I’m a monster.”

“He’s faking it, can’t you see? There is no way he changed his mind just like that!” Rulf protested. After all the king had put him and Esthor through, he couldn’t have had a change of heart so suddenly. He must have been forcing himself to say things he did not mean, hoping it would somehow work.

“Have faith in my powers,” Lyra said. She gave Rulf a mysterious smile before turning back to Norius. “Well, king, why don’t you try and take off that blindfold.”

“I don’t deserve to take it off. It is my punishment,” Norius shook his head. Somehow, the thought of the spell not working was less frightening. If it did, how would he face anyone ever again? How would he look Loreena and their daughters in the eyes?

“Don’t be ridiculous, I didn’t do all this for nothing,” the sorceress dismissed his concerns. “Take it off or I will do it for you.”

Reluctantly, the old king brought his hands up to his head, grabbing the blindfold that still covered his eyes. His heart beat wildly as he started pulling up, realizing the fabric was coming off. Once it was finally all the way off, he slowly opened his eyes, seeing the light of day for the first time in over a year.

While Quinn smiled triumphantly, the Lykos stared in disbelief. How could it be true? The curse was lifted, and the words coming out of Norius’ mouth were something Rulf never thought he would hear him say, but deep down, he knew the king did not mean what he was saying. It was all the product of a spell and nothing more. But would the spell fade over time, and could it be undone? Rulf knew that Esthor would surely know the answer.

To the surprise of everyone present, Norius stood up from the couch and walked across the room until he reached the young Lykos. He somehow managed to cast his pride aside and muster his courage to look Rulf in the eyes. It was time to start making amends.

“My daughter… Arabella, she meant everything to me. She was so young, but also smart as a whip, and if she trusted you and loved you… I want to believe that she had a good reason,” Norius spoke, fighting back the tears. “If Bella thought you were a good person, then I trust her judgment. I know it might be too late, but I am truly sorry for how I treated you. Believe me when I say that there is no one who would rather turn back time than me. If that were in my power, I would do everything differently, and then maybe… maybe I would still have my daughter with me. The throne, the power, they mean nothing if my family wants nothing to do with me.”

Clenching his jaw, Rulf did not say a word. How dare the old bastard talk about Arabella as if he cared about her?! Even if he truly meant what he said, all of the hurt he had caused to Esthor and Rulf, to so many other people, it could never be erased. An apology would not change anything.

Seeing that he would not get a response from the Lykos, the king stepped back, glancing at Lyra.

“Well, it seems my work here is complete,” the sorceress stood up, looking proud of herself.

“Thank you for making me see the light,” the king turned to face her. “I will be forever in your debt. Please, tell me what is it you would like, and I will make sure you get it.”

Lyra merely chuckled at his offer, drawing a look of pure confusion from the king.

“How sweet of you, Norius, but I’m afraid you have nothing I desire,” she replied. “My payment… will be him.”

With a hungry look in her eyes, the sorceress pointed a long finger at Rulf, giving him her best seductive smile. The Lykos’ eyes shot wide open as he understood what she meant. He was going to be her new slave. With disgust and panic leaving his body in turmoil, he stepped back, but immediately felt strong hands of Lyra’s guards grabbing him by the arms.

“Dane, give our new guest the potion. It seems like he’s dying to have a taste,” the woman ordered as she approached.

“No!” Rulf shouted as he tried to break free, but there was no hope of escape. Even if he was not all tied up, he was held firmly in place by Lyra’s men. No matter how much he struggled, he could not shake them off.

The same goblet that Norius had taken a drink from was brought to his mouth, and he could feel the strange liquid trickle over his lips.

“Now, now, be a good boy and drink up,” the sorceress cooed as if talking to a baby. “If you do, I promise to undo these ropes.”

As soon as she was satisfied that he had consumed some of her potion, Lyra pointed her wand at Rulf and muttered an incantation. The Lykos’ eyes turned glassy, as if he was in a trance.

“There, that’s better,” Lyra clapped her hands, her face lighting up with joy. “That potion wasn’t so bad, was it now?”

“No,” Rulf shook his head. “May I have some more?”

“Hah! Later, my darling,” she replied, gesturing to the guards to cut the ropes around the Lykos’ arms and legs. As soon as they did so, Rulf walked over to Lyra and gently took her hand, lifting it up to his mouth.

“Thank you,” he whispered as he placed a kiss on the back of her palm.

“You’re welcome,” she gave him a smirk. “Now, what are you two still doing here? I’m bored of you. Out!”

Before the two visitors could even protest, the guards grabbed Quinn and Norius and hauled them out of the mansion. They did not stop until they threw the two men out onto the street, locking the gate behind them.