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"What do you mean, boy, no one pities me," I hissed.
"Oh, Mirage, how blind are you?" he whispered, then turned, and walked up the steps to take his place beside his Princess.
Inside, I fumed, and yet, a spark of what was formally left of me was happy. Finally, someone understood, someone cared, but I crushed that instantly.
The Sultan now looked almost reluctant to finally condemn me, yet I was nearly pleased. For every time I looked into that boy's face, I saw pity and that wounded me more then any weapon ever could.
Mozenrath stood to the side, waiting. Waiting to see if the pain I had put him through would finally end with my death. But then it would be his turn, now wouldn't it? They wouldn't wait long after my death to come after him for his crimes as well. But maybe he wanted that, he's always felt lost, and suffered in the dark, even if it is the only path he knows.
Suddenly, a flurry of dark brown robes walked hurriedly by me, and the man in them knelt at the steps to the throne. I could almost growl, for I knew who it was. Fasir....
"Sultan, I beg for mercy on her behalf," he asked, his head low.
A part of my heart twisted at those words. He still cared, and perhaps, still loved me as well. It was hard to crush those thoughts, for that is what gave me strength in my dark times, the fact that I knew he would always love me, even though I denied it.
"Mercy cannot be given to the merciless," the Sultan said, almost seemingly reluctant to say that.
Fasir's face was turned from me, yet I could see the slight slump in shoulders, yet I knew he wouldn't give up yet. He stood, and then went closer to the side of the raised platform, where Atrus stood still in the shadows. He fell to his knees, and I knew it hurt him to do so, as he was very proud. Yet, he did it, to beg, which is like the blow of death to his pride. To beg, for my life, some part of me loved him again for that, and I realized that I had never truly stopped loving him.
"Atrus, you owe her, and me. Would you truly have your sister condemned to die by mortal hands?" Fasir asked.
Atrus moved, though I could not make out her features, I knew she had sighed.
"I do not owe you or her anything. And what hands better for what she has done?" Atrus asked.
"This is your sister. Please, have you not the heart you once did?" Fasir asked.
"Nay, I do not. The times have changed, Fasir, and there is little room for pity," Atrus said, her voice dead, no emotion reflecting from it.
"That may be, but who shall pity you when you have need of it?" Fasir finally asked, and rose from his knees.
Atrus did not move, nor did she not speak for some times. Finally, she spoke, her words colder then ice, "I have no pity, nor shall I ever need it. Nothing you may say shall turn my heart."
"As I feared," he sighed, and then returned to the front of the throne, to stand beside me.
His hand gently brushed mine briefly, and then he raised his voice, while one hand went to the bandage on his eye. He undid it, and let it fall, to revel his true face, not the one he once used to hide what he once was. There stood Fasir, brother of Cyclops, and also the one eyed warrior. Oh, if only things had been different...
"Sultan, I stand before you, an old being, weather by the years, as my dear wife has been. I could do just as much damage as she has done. I do not deserve to live either, if you condemn her to death. I shall follow her, no matter what," he said, stripping away the remnants of the old frail man he had pretended to be.
The Sultan prepared to speak, when Atrus stepped forward, a grim look upon her face.
"You would be willing to go to death with her, even beyond?" she asked softly, and I could see a strange look in her eyes.
"I would," he said, and gently took my hand.
I fought myself on whether to pull my grasp from his or not. I had built the belief that even though he loves me, as he was a fool, he would never forgive me. He proved me wrong, yet I could not prevent the flinch that ran through me at his touch.
He did not let go of my hand, though I knew he felt it. He did however, loosened his hold slightly, aware of my discomfort.
"Then there is something worth saving in her," Atrus said, then turned, "Sultan, Princess, her suitor, hear me. I have heard what has been said about my sister upon her behalf, especially from you, young prince by marriage. At first, it did not move me, for I fear my heart has grown too cold. But I see now, that if there are those willing to defend her, even her own son," she paused, and glanced at Mozenrath before turning her attention back, "Or her worst enemy. Or even the one she betrayed more then myself, her own husband. Then there must be something to redeem in her. I ask that I may say what those of the court back home have said her punishment would be, if she were not under your law?"
The Sultan nodded, and dread welled up in my heart. The court of my people would have chosen something far worse then death, I knew that, and I feared it.
"For the next four hundred years, Mirage would be condemned to the darkest part of her temple, powerless, and trapped within one small area. When that is finished, she would spend another hundred years..." she paused, and I could see her straighten slightly, as if she were amused by something, "As a mortal. Powerless as all other mortals, and she would learn what it was like. If she takes another human life during this time, or after, she would be put to death."
I suppressed a growl from my throat. I was right, it would be worse then death, I had no fear of being imprisoned for such a long time, but to be mortal. Never!
"The terms are acceptable, yet how do we know they will be carried out?" the Sultan asked.
"If you wish, you may send someone with me as I lock her within her tome," Atrus said.
"I shall have to think on this. My decision will be made soon. For now, all may go. Guards, take her back to her ceil," the Sultan ordered.
The guards gripped my arms, and started to lead me away. Fasir started to follow; yet Atrus reached him.
"Fasir, I would speak with you," she said softly to him.
He looked to me, and nodded grimly to Atrus before turning away. Then the guards led me through the doors, and they slipped shut, blocking me view of him, and what my fate would be.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"What do you mean, boy, no one pities me," I hissed.
"Oh, Mirage, how blind are you?" he whispered, then turned, and walked up the steps to take his place beside his Princess.
Inside, I fumed, and yet, a spark of what was formally left of me was happy. Finally, someone understood, someone cared, but I crushed that instantly.
The Sultan now looked almost reluctant to finally condemn me, yet I was nearly pleased. For every time I looked into that boy's face, I saw pity and that wounded me more then any weapon ever could.
Mozenrath stood to the side, waiting. Waiting to see if the pain I had put him through would finally end with my death. But then it would be his turn, now wouldn't it? They wouldn't wait long after my death to come after him for his crimes as well. But maybe he wanted that, he's always felt lost, and suffered in the dark, even if it is the only path he knows.
Suddenly, a flurry of dark brown robes walked hurriedly by me, and the man in them knelt at the steps to the throne. I could almost growl, for I knew who it was. Fasir....
"Sultan, I beg for mercy on her behalf," he asked, his head low.
A part of my heart twisted at those words. He still cared, and perhaps, still loved me as well. It was hard to crush those thoughts, for that is what gave me strength in my dark times, the fact that I knew he would always love me, even though I denied it.
"Mercy cannot be given to the merciless," the Sultan said, almost seemingly reluctant to say that.
Fasir's face was turned from me, yet I could see the slight slump in shoulders, yet I knew he wouldn't give up yet. He stood, and then went closer to the side of the raised platform, where Atrus stood still in the shadows. He fell to his knees, and I knew it hurt him to do so, as he was very proud. Yet, he did it, to beg, which is like the blow of death to his pride. To beg, for my life, some part of me loved him again for that, and I realized that I had never truly stopped loving him.
"Atrus, you owe her, and me. Would you truly have your sister condemned to die by mortal hands?" Fasir asked.
Atrus moved, though I could not make out her features, I knew she had sighed.
"I do not owe you or her anything. And what hands better for what she has done?" Atrus asked.
"This is your sister. Please, have you not the heart you once did?" Fasir asked.
"Nay, I do not. The times have changed, Fasir, and there is little room for pity," Atrus said, her voice dead, no emotion reflecting from it.
"That may be, but who shall pity you when you have need of it?" Fasir finally asked, and rose from his knees.
Atrus did not move, nor did she not speak for some times. Finally, she spoke, her words colder then ice, "I have no pity, nor shall I ever need it. Nothing you may say shall turn my heart."
"As I feared," he sighed, and then returned to the front of the throne, to stand beside me.
His hand gently brushed mine briefly, and then he raised his voice, while one hand went to the bandage on his eye. He undid it, and let it fall, to revel his true face, not the one he once used to hide what he once was. There stood Fasir, brother of Cyclops, and also the one eyed warrior. Oh, if only things had been different...
"Sultan, I stand before you, an old being, weather by the years, as my dear wife has been. I could do just as much damage as she has done. I do not deserve to live either, if you condemn her to death. I shall follow her, no matter what," he said, stripping away the remnants of the old frail man he had pretended to be.
The Sultan prepared to speak, when Atrus stepped forward, a grim look upon her face.
"You would be willing to go to death with her, even beyond?" she asked softly, and I could see a strange look in her eyes.
"I would," he said, and gently took my hand.
I fought myself on whether to pull my grasp from his or not. I had built the belief that even though he loves me, as he was a fool, he would never forgive me. He proved me wrong, yet I could not prevent the flinch that ran through me at his touch.
He did not let go of my hand, though I knew he felt it. He did however, loosened his hold slightly, aware of my discomfort.
"Then there is something worth saving in her," Atrus said, then turned, "Sultan, Princess, her suitor, hear me. I have heard what has been said about my sister upon her behalf, especially from you, young prince by marriage. At first, it did not move me, for I fear my heart has grown too cold. But I see now, that if there are those willing to defend her, even her own son," she paused, and glanced at Mozenrath before turning her attention back, "Or her worst enemy. Or even the one she betrayed more then myself, her own husband. Then there must be something to redeem in her. I ask that I may say what those of the court back home have said her punishment would be, if she were not under your law?"
The Sultan nodded, and dread welled up in my heart. The court of my people would have chosen something far worse then death, I knew that, and I feared it.
"For the next four hundred years, Mirage would be condemned to the darkest part of her temple, powerless, and trapped within one small area. When that is finished, she would spend another hundred years..." she paused, and I could see her straighten slightly, as if she were amused by something, "As a mortal. Powerless as all other mortals, and she would learn what it was like. If she takes another human life during this time, or after, she would be put to death."
I suppressed a growl from my throat. I was right, it would be worse then death, I had no fear of being imprisoned for such a long time, but to be mortal. Never!
"The terms are acceptable, yet how do we know they will be carried out?" the Sultan asked.
"If you wish, you may send someone with me as I lock her within her tome," Atrus said.
"I shall have to think on this. My decision will be made soon. For now, all may go. Guards, take her back to her ceil," the Sultan ordered.
The guards gripped my arms, and started to lead me away. Fasir started to follow; yet Atrus reached him.
"Fasir, I would speak with you," she said softly to him.
He looked to me, and nodded grimly to Atrus before turning away. Then the guards led me through the doors, and they slipped shut, blocking me view of him, and what my fate would be.