#dok.task002

“Well, don’t they say that when it rains on a wedding day, it’s bad luck for the day, good luck for the rest of the marriage? If that and what happened today is anything to go by, Queen Daphne and I will have a very happy life together.” Was he trying too hard to make up for the shadows that had stolen the spotlight (ironically) at the feast? Perhaps. But William also did what others needed, and currently they needed someone to put on a brave face. So he was determinedly cheerful and cheerfully determined to be so. The Shadows would not win, not today, and not ever.  

“Any more words of wisdom for a newly married man?” 

He was going mad. There was no other explanation to what he just heard. He needed air. He needed to leave and he needed to leave now. He knew it was only a matter of seconds before he crumbles down like a brittle mountain, so he turned on his heel and felt like the world had turned along with him. He didn’t know if he was feeling sick, dizzy, mortified, relieved or all of it mixed together. There was no place for happiness, not yet and not until he sees her and talks to her. Why would she keep this a secret from him? There was a number of occasions when they were somewhat isolated, when she could’ve told him and put his mind to ease. How could she do that cruel thing, knowing the truth all this time and saying nothing - not even a hint, a word. She was always kind to him, so maybe that was to be his indicator; no one was kind to him without an agenda. 

Everyone lied to him, all the time.

And if they didn’t lie, they held back information. First his wife, then his mistress, he would be willing to bet his life that a good majority of his advisers were also false and treacherous, and now she. The only person he thought was honest in his court and among his wife’s ladies - she lied. By not saying anything, her transgression was worse than anyone else’s. All his life, the only thing he had wanted was to have his sister back and all this time... All this time she was right there. All this time there was a gaping, bleeding hole in his soul that not even his daughter’s birth had fully mended, and people knew. Why didn’t Geoffrey tell him? Why didn’t lady Elinor tell him sooner? They all knew how much his sister head meant to him, how much it tore him apart to not have her alive and beside him, and they said nothing. Would they have ever told him, if the words of whatever it was hadn’t scared them into telling their secrets to prevent them all from falling apart?

Maybe Stella was right, sending people to their deaths in the desert. Maybe after this he should be the monster they all want him to be. So many lies, so much pain and confusion, he couldn’t bear it anymore. How much longer can a person endure it all without going insane? His fingers dug into his palms as he hurried off towards the patch of the blissful darkness, away from lady Drago and everyone else. He couldn’t breathe. The air seemed thick, dense and no matter how hard he gasped, he fell short of breath and his head was falling apart. Where there used to be numbness, now there was searing pain that knocked him down on his knees, and his fingers dug into the damp earth. Earth was not his element, but now the darkness around him and the smell of the wet earth brought him comfort - the only thing keeping him from being completely torn at the seams. He couldn’t catch a coherent thought by the head or the tail, and he still felt short of breath but there was a spark of something different starting to awaken in his body. 

Determination.

It wasn’t strength as he felt like he had none left, but it was a start. Ethan inhaled a greedy breath again, finding that the pain had subdued if only by a smidgen. He needed to find her, and he needed to find her now. Slowly, he stood up, closing his eyes to let the darkness consume him for a moment; the chill of the night and the darkness before his eyes brought a semblance of clarity. The king was aware that he won’t be able to hide the distress on his face, he doesn’t have it in him to feign composure and his court would jump at an opportunity to exploit his weakness. 

So he’ll stick to the darkness while he searches for his sister. 

SOMETHING WAS TERRIBLY, HORRIBLY WRONG. As she woke up with a start, unaware of her surroundings for a blinking moment, she tried to remember the dream. But, it wasn’t the dream that had awakened her, as she slept with a dreamless sleep this night, but rather a voice; a cry, of thousand voices intertwined all belonging to the earth and the soil; and the trees. The Guardian sensed something was wrong, she could sense that bubble of something growing, like expectation only worse, maddening as it felt... Well it felt wrong. Misplaced and unseen and unheard and dark, so terribly dark and frightening. 

And then the screaming had started.

Despite the scream being inside her head, she covered her ears and shut her eyes, a painful instinct kicking in. It was horrible! The screams of many souls, natural souls, souls she’s loved and nurtured for years now; all screaming as if they were on fire. Or drowning. Or torn by winds and lightning. It felt like the Elements went dark, full of anger and rage and revenge. She didn’t know when she started to scream with them. She didn’t even feel herself sliding off the bed and curling in the corner of the bed with her shoulder to the wall; like a caged animal, battered and afraid of everyone who looked her way. 

The Guardian had screamed along the voices of the Dryad in her head, either until her lungs tore or until the screaming stopped; whichever came first. The screams of the Dryad had turned into a wail, crying and weeping from something... Unseen. There was no pain in the woods or she would’ve felt it. But there was something in the woods, something that had made them cry and in response to it, it made her cry as well. A sobbing mess on the floor, screaming turned to sobbing, hands balling into fists around her ears, all in an attempt to drown the sounds; but she couldn’t get them out of her head, the profound sorrow that had made the woods cry; the fear which rendered the Dryad into the same sobbing mess Roslyn was; only no one would know, none but her. it was fortunate she was alone in the house, with her parents visiting their grandchild and elder daughter. It was truly fortunate that no one would see her broken by the cries only she could hear and feel and respond to. 

Roslyn needed to get to the Dryad; if only she could find the strength to get up from the floor. If only the crying would stop.