Orb and Prophecy Prophecy Part 10 of about 13
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Orb And Prophecy: Routine (Part 5 Of About 13) free porn video
Alwyn led me down a short hallway, then left me alone to rest and to
settle in. The room she offered me was brightly decorated, the bedspread
and curtains blooming with daisies and petunias in a variety of colors.
The flowers lifted my spirits in a way I found surprising. The closet gave
me an even bigger surprise: Marcus had not been kidding when he told me
someone was bringing clothes from my safe house in the city. Many of my
new creations were there. I immediately exchanged my shorts for a knee-
length skirt.
"Ah, now I feel more comfortable again!" A vanity in the corner was
stocked with beauty equipment. I sat there and brushed my hair. I was
thankful I did not lose control as when I first saw my own image, yet I
could still get lost in enjoying my own good looks.
I heard a knock on the door. "Come in," I called, happily aware of the
melodic sweetness of my voice. Everything about my new condition seemed
more and more right to me now. How ironic that Moranna tried to destroy me
but made me so happy instead. Oh, I knew it is her spell that is making me
enjoy this, but I'm was liking this in spite of that fact. If only I could
just relax and enjoy it more. The thought of my men entrapped, and the
queen seeking me out to destroy me, would not permit it. The dancing of
Moranna's yellow magic on me was a continual reminder that she had
exercised unwelcome power on me. No, as nice as this is, I can't just sit
content here. There's a job to be done yet. I wished my violet aura was
back, and I wished I knew more about it.
In the mirror I saw Alwyn enter, and I stood to welcome her in. "I'm glad
to see you. I have questions for you about my magic," I opened.
Alwyn's response was not what I was hoping for. "And I have many questions
for you. But first I have a task for you."
"Are we beginning my training now?" I asked hopefully.
"In a manner, yes. I have a friend I want you to meet. He's a boy, about
seven years old, who has something in common with you. He also fell victim
to with Moranna's magic. Unlike you, he had nothing to defend himself
with. He's very disfigured, and he won't leave his home. He needs a friend
who can relate to him."
"You want me to help some poor victim? Why, really, I don't know if I can
--"
Alwyn finished my thought for me. "You don't know if you can show
compassion, if you can love someone unlovely. Yes, I am only too aware of
your lack of experience in it. It's not characteristic of warriors to
learn that skill, and you seem to put a lot of stock in a person's looks."
I defended myself. "It was always my job to toughen them up, and the weak
were never in my army!" I sighed. "I guess I'm not a general anymore,
though, am I? But I really don't know who I am, that I could be of any
help to some child."
"You're a person, that's who you are, and you know what it's like to have
faced Moranna. Now, this boy went through a different change than yours.
He was play-acting one day as children do, just pretending to be a dog,
barking and jumping, not knowing that Moranna was nearby. His play
apparently annoyed her... She gave him the paws of a dog, hands and feet,
all four." I gasped. "It has quite crippled him, as you can imagine; he
can hardly walk or eat on his own."
I sat back stunned on the bed. "How cruel! But what makes you think I
would be of any help? Do you know" -- I decided at last to trust her with
it -- "do you know my magic isn't working anymore?"
"Certainly I knew that. But look at yourself. You've also suffered at the
hands of Moranna, though it may not seem so painful to you. And to be
quite honest, I would like for you to get another look at the kind of
handiwork she's known for. Go now--his father is waiting for you at their
house."
"His father?"
"His father is Marcus."
****
Before walking to Marcus's home, I tied my hair up in a plain kerchief,
and put on the simple dress of a peasant woman. To look so plain went
against all my instincts and desires, except for the all-important drive
for self-preservation. It was necessary to disguise myself from any agents
of Moranna who might be on the street. I spread dirt on my face. All in
all, I felt as poor as I looked; my time in attractive clothing had been
all too short that afternoon.
My heart was in turmoil for more reasons than that, though. I was thinking
of Marcus. He hadn't told me of his special reason to oppose Moranna.
I followed Alwyn's directions to his home and identified the proper house
easily. I hesitated before knocking; had it not been for Marcus being
there, I might have backed out of the visit entirely. Making friends with
children--especially crippled ones--was hardly my specialty! But Marcus
had been a real savior to me (and a handsome one), so I took a deep breath
and knocked. I almost hoped no one would answer the door, and felt only
slightly guilty for the thought.
Marcus came, though. "Come in, Marisa! We've been looking forward to
seeing you!"
"Thank you," I answered. "I've come to--to see your son." Inwardly I was
thinking, "I can't believe I'm letting Marcus see me looking like this."
It didn't help my confidence at all. I noticed almost immediately a family
picture on the wall: Marcus, a boy of about four or five years old, and an
attractive young woman who was obviously Marcus's wife.
"You didn't tell me you were married, Marcus." I'm sure there was a pout
creeping into my voice; then I saw his eyes darken.
"I was--once. Marisa, I know Alwyn told you about my son. She may not have
also mentioned that my wife--Gloria--was there when it happened. Gloria
unleashed a mother's full fury on Moranna, and Moranna gave her the same
back. Moranna won, of course. Gloria--well--she didn't survive it." The
loss was still fresh in his eyes.
"How long ago was this, Marcus?"
"Almost two years. Jakob had just turned five years old."
Now, I had been a veteran fighter. I had seen men die often enough. But
nothing I had ever seen struck me as tragic or as senseless as this. A
boy's body ruined, his mother killed, a man restraining his tears all
these months later still, all because of a queen's petulant abuse of
power. My eyes became blurry; an unfamiliar tear wet my cheek. I spoke
softly, "I think I would like to meet your son."
Marcus gathered himself together and led me into a child's play room. In
the corner, back to the door, sat the boy, his hands and feet hidden under
a blanket. "Jakob, I want you to meet someone else whose life was changed
by the queen. She came to be your friend."
Jakob took one brief glance over his shoulder. "Hah!" he spat. "There's
nothing wrong with her!"
I approached him slowly, with a newly awakened tenderness in my heart that
my hoped would also come out in my voice. "Jakob? Have you ever heard
stories of armies going to war?" He kept his back turned to me. "Have you
ever heard of brave, strong heroes, courageous leaders, mighty captains?
Have you ever imagined what that kind of life might be like?" He was
unresponsive as stone. "Imagine the glory of camping with men, of marching
to battle together, of building the bonds that can only come from going
through great trials together. Imagine being in charge of such an army!
Maybe you're too young to understand that. But I know that life." Jakob
glanced at me again briefly, a glint of question barely touching his
impassive face. "I know what it's like because I was a a fighter. I was a
leader of men. I was strong, a general, I was a man, until"--I swept my
hands down across my body--"until Moranna did this to me. Yes, I know what
it's like to be her victim. I'd like to be your friend. Maybe you will be
mine."
Jakob turned his head, and almost met my eyes. "What kind of general were
you?"
"I led an army, and I was the leader of my land."
His eyes turned to fire. Words ripped out of him like torture, "Well then,
why didn't you kill Moranna!" His head went down as he retreated into
himself again. He did not cry, but he had clearly shut himself away from
me.
Marcus touched my shoulder and led me out of the room. My eyes were
swimming with tears, my stomach was tight. "I'm not going to be able to
help!" I wailed. I was surprised, as I said it, to realize I really did
want to help. It was a feeling I had never known before.
"On the contrary, Marisa, those are the most words he's spoken since then
to anyone but me. You're off to a good start."
"I don't know if I'll be able to stand it. Oh, Marcus, how do you--" I
faltered.
"How do I bear it? It has been horrible. I miss Gloria every second, and
every day I'm home, Jakob's condition reminds me of it all." He needed
time to gather himself, then went on, his voice filled with resolve. "I
live on three words; they are what hold me together. I pray, I wait, and I
watch."
I started at the word, "pray." Was Marcus as simple as Alwyn? He hadn't
seemed to be. He continued, "And the community of the resistance is the
best help of all. We pray together, we wait for an opening against
Moranna, and we watch. You probably guessed I was in the queen's army, or
else I wouldn't have been there for your change. I don't do it to help
her, that's for sure! I'm watching her."
"Did you-- have you deserted now?"
"No, she gave some of us officers four weeks' leave as a gift for
defeating you. Of course, that's easy for her to do. The army is mostly
for show. You saw it yourself--we go out to the enemy, we run away, her
magic takes over, and we clean up. It's not the same as being a warrior,
like you were." He almost seemed ashamed. I started to say he didn't need
to be, he was showing great courage; but I stopped myself. Did he know who
I really had been, and why I had been forced out? Probably. I appreciated
that he did not make it an issue.
I was curious, though, and I asked, "How could Moranna let you be in her
army, with your own son being her victim? Doesn't she know you might not
be loyal?"
"Phah!" he spat. "She paid no attention to Jakob even when she did this to
him. She didn't know who he was. I don't think anyone's bothered to look
him up."
I returned to Marcus and Jakob each of the next several days. When not
there, I stayed in Alwyn's home to avoid being discovered. Alwyn always
seemed to steer our conversations clear of my most important questions; I
was forced to be content with taking things slowly on that front. Helping
Jakob was also slow, but Marcus continued to encourage me that I was
making good progress. On the fifth day the boy revealed his hands and
feet, just for a moment, and I saw Moranna's signature yellow glow on
them.
With Jakob I tried to stay hopeful and cheerful. That evening, though, I
confided in Alwyn, "I thought I had seen a lot in my life. I've been
through battles, losses, victories--but I've never experienced feelings
like this before. It's a sadness I just can't brush aside. I want so much
to help him, but I feel so helpless. All I can do is be there with him."
"And do you think you are not helping, Marisa? Do you realize how much it
means that he even lets you be there with him?"
"Oh, yes, but it's such slow progress. I just want to sweep him up in my
arms and tell him it's going to be okay! And I want my magic to come back
so I can take this--this curse off him for good. There's still no sign of
the pwer coming back, though. Do you have any idea at all when how long
that might take?" Alwyn handed me a dish to dry; she offered nothing in
response to the question. I had grown used to her silence on such
questions, so I did not press it; I decided to lighten things up instead.
"I have another question for you, since you're so willing to answer me." I
was teasing her. "You said when I met you that I had a lot to learn about
being a woman. You've had me helping with the housework here every day. Is
that what you were talking about?"
Alwyn laughed. "Oh, no, housework has very little to do with being female,
although I'll bet you never did much of it, did you, General?" Her eyes
were mirthful, and I laughed with her.
"No, it's been a long time since I had to do that for anyone! Maybe it's
going to do me good to be at it again."
"It just might be! And maybe it's doing you good to be with Jakob, too."
***
I stayed hidden when I was not out visiting Marcus and Jakob; no other
excursion was worth the risk of being found by Moranna's people. Going out
required me to dress down, which of course I preferred not to do. Alwyn
was with me in the cottage virtually all the time. Our conversations
covered a large range about the island and its history, and about my past.
I learned that Moranna had been in power for generations, longer than
anyone could say. Her magic kept her virtually immortal. No one knew
anything about her life, or the island's history, before she came to
power; it was conjectured that her magic was even responsible for taking
away some of the island's history.
"Has no one ever come along with magic to match hers? Has she never been
challenged?" I asked.
Alwyn said slowly, "Yes... it has been tried." She stopped after that.
Once again I knew I was in forbidden territory; it was not to be
discussed, at least not yet. And there were other closed topics at that
time. I was never able to get Alwyn to talk about the resistance or about
my magic. I knew I was being observed, tested, by Alwyn; it was a time to
build trust, and that would take time. I was obviously on their side in
wanting to defeat Moranna. I could not force Alwyn's trust, but I sensed I
was gaining it--slowly.
I shared with her about my past. She knew it already, of course; I had
been the leader of a small South American country. Some of my detractors
preferred the term, "petty dictator." I acknowledged it; in fact, while I
was in power it seemed a mark of pride that I could earn the term. (The
"petty" part of it stung only a little; it was a small country, after
all.) I had control of the drug lords, and the military. It wasn't enough-
-I led an invasion of the next country to the south (names of the
countries, even my own, were lost to me, taken by the magic). We lost. I
escaped along with a few hundred members of my army and my navy. We were
able to commandeer a naval ship and get away. Thus we had ended up,
unexpectedly, on this island. It appeared out of nowhere, in waters that
were charted to be clear. That led to my next question.
"Why isn't this island on any of our maritime charts? Why hasn't anyone
heard of you before?"
"Moranna wants it that way. We do have trade with the outside world, but
when the ships leave here, they forget us. Still, somehow they find their
way back with the supplies we need. If you had left without trying to
attack, you would have forgotten us, too. You are the victim of your own
pride and greed."
She was right, I had to admit. My own faults had caught up with me. It was
not the most painful thing I had faced since landing here--but it was
close.
Reflecting on this conversation later, it occurred to me that Moranna's
work probably also explained the odd anachronisms on the island. The
technology, the economy, the fashions--all seemed to have been grabbed,
hobscobble, from every era and every place, but much of it was far behind
the times. There were few cars, no modern communications like telephone,
radio, and TV, and certainly no computers. Fashions and food seemed quite
up to date, though. Most homes had refrigerators and modern cooking gear.
All of that only made sense in terms of Moranna's whims--another sign of
the complete, despotic control she exercised.
I tried to get Alwyn to talk about herself, but she seemed as closed about
herself as she was about the resistance and its strategies. The more I
talked with her, though, the more my respect for her grew, and I began to
regret my initial assessment of her as naive. Her praying I could
overlook; she had a great deal of wisdom in other respects. I determined
to maintain a respectful posture with her, since I was trying to build
enough trust for her to actually share more with me
My willingness to spend time with Jakob probably helped build that trust.
I was enjoying those times with the boy--and also with his father. It was
a chance to get out of the cottage, too; I had certainly never been an
indoor person, and I still had a preference for action, just as I had as a
man. It was a different kind of action when I took these visits, but it
was better than being constantly cooped up.
Jakob slowly warmed up to me. I told him stories of lands and battles, in
edited form, of course. I was very aware of how strange my warrior's tales
sounded, coming out in such a lady's voice. I actually tried to make the
most of the incongruity, for Jakob's sake: my change was not obvious on
the surface, I knew, and I wanted Jakob to get the full impact of it. With
Jakob as my audience (and Marcus not far away) I found it surprisingly
difficult to feel proud of all I had done to gain my former power. I
missed those days--not so long ago in time, but oh, so far removed from
who I had now become! Much of what had seemed so important then, was
starting to feel irrelevant or even wrong to me now. There was a side of
it all, though, that still seemed right, things like courage and honor.
On the sixth day Jakob let me see his hands and feet again--I refused to
call them paws, even in my own mind--and he almost smiled at me when he
realized I was not laughing, and not recoiling in horror. I felt a deep,
warm satisfaction within. He might have been the first person I had ever
really cared for unselfishly. As a man, I had had my way with many women,
all of them willing, eager to associate with my strength and power; all of
them cooperating with the clear fiction that I actually cared for them.
This felt different, new, clean.
Both Marcus and Alwyn continued to surprise me with their unashamed
praying. They never made a show of it; I only saw them kneeling if I
happened upon them in that posture. It was a harmless habit, I thought; a
weakness, perhaps, but they had other virtues to make up for it. I
supposed that if I had spent my entire life in the shadow of great and
fearsome magic, I might have developed a superstition or two of my own. I
was forced to accept the reality of magic, of course, but still, I did not
have to take on any other new beliefs along with it.
So on the heels of one great change in my life, and other gradual changes
following it, I was settling into a routine that was becoming comfortable
and mostly pleasant. My circle was greatly limited: I spent time only with
Alwyn, Marcus, and Jakob, and only in their homes. I was quite sure there
were other members of the resistance nearby, but I was not being allowed
to meet them. I understood the need for being careful with strategic
secrets, and I was content with it for now.
It was the twentieth day after my change when the pattern was unexpectedly
altered. Alwyn and I had just finished dinner together. "Do you mind
taking care of the cleanup tonight, Marisa?" Alwyn asked me. "I'll be
going out for a few hours." She gave no further explanation. It was my
first hours alone since Marcus found me on the hillside, and it gave me
plenty of time to wonder what new thing might have come up to draw Alwyn
out of the house. The next day brought me the answer, and a great deal
more.
Lauryn
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