Two to Write: Anthromagic ~ Chapter 29

“The transitory state has my lady bewildered again, does it not?” The man with the gold sash asked me as he pulled a chair across the stone floor. Placing the chair in front of me, he took a seat and one of my hands.

“It does.” I agreed simply with his statement.

“Do not fret love; it will end soon. Perhaps the next morn that you wake from slumber, you shall only posses a solitary set of memories.” He informed me. The blunt information that he shared with me was both reassuring and upsetting in one swift blow and the emotions consumed me momentarily. I tried to search his eyes for an explanation but found nothing.

“Who says that I wish to have only one set of memories?” I demanded harshly and watched as his eyes grew cold.

“In time, the only thoughts you will wish to hold within you will be those of your life here.” He told me as he wrapped his hand around mine. At first, the sensation of his hand upon mine felt unnatural and devoid of warmth, but, within seconds, I found myself thinking that it was a familiar stance for me.

“For now, it would be best if I escorted you to your bed chambers once more at this time. The paths and routes along this way are often confusing and may easily bewilder a new arrival.” The lord instructed me and began walking without letting go of my hand. I allowed myself to be led by this man down a hallway and around several corners before I resisted his light pull.

“My bed chambers, as you choose to call them,” I began, retracting my hand from his grasp, “are not in this…this cave land that you people want me to believe is my home.”

“Does her ladyship hold a preference for being in her other world? The one which she is now referring to as home?” It was as if he was frustrated with me, responding like that after a quiet sigh escaped from his lips.

“It is not a question of which I may hold a preference for; it is simply a matter of which I am familiar with. I know nothing of this world, where you and yours insist that I belong.” My temper was growing and I did not doubt that his patience was growing thin.

“In the morning.” A deep sigh escaped him again and he stared at me. It was the first time I’d truly stopped to take in his appearance. His lips were drawn, not in frustration, but sadness; his eyes, a soft and dull green, bore into mine; and his hair was tousled, not as a style, but as though hands had been wringing his hair throughout the day and he’d never bothered to straighten it. I waited, knowing he had more to say. “In the morning, we may speak frankly. In the morning, I shall show her ladyship every corridor and crevice of this world. In the morning, should she promise not to run, my lady’s mind will be cleared and she will have her freedom. All this, I promise her in the morning; for now, my body demands replenishment through rest.”