Chapter 28: Kill my soul

Tomas was doing his rounds out in the gardens. He had just finished the last of his notes and was about to head into the observatory. It was another warm day. The sunshine was shining but it wasn't too warm. The sky was completely blue. The gardens were so lush and filled with colour during that time of the year. The air was sweet. It was just how Tomas liked it. The only thing missing was Charlotte. She was the only other person that shared his love of the flowers. Now, somehow it felt lonely.

Neither Veretta nor Errik had been much company over the past few weeks. He could have gotten to know the students around the campus, but he felt strangely reluctant. It wasn't like him. He usually loved being around people, but he couldn't quite accept that Charlotte was gone. Sometimes when he was alone, he felt she was still with him so he kept to himself.

He was about to enter the observatory when he caught sight of a familiar figure sitting alone under one of the trees. He approached to find Veretta staring ahead vacantly ahead into the gardens with tear-stained cheeks.

"Why are you crying?" Tomas said sitting beside her.

"Because I'm a fool!" Veretta laughed as the tears streamed down her face, "I am such a fool,"

"You're not a fool," Tomas said thoughtfully. "But you can be a bit naive sometimes,"

Veretta let out a laugh, "Then I must be naive to have ever thought..." her voice trailed and she shook her head. Instead of words, an incredulous gasp escaped her lips and she inhaled sharply.

"Is this about Errik?" Tomas asked earnestly.

"No..." Veretta halted, "maybe. It doesn't matter anymore,"

"If he's done something wrong," Tomas posited, "Why don't you just confront him?"

"How can I?" Veretta sniffled, "I've already been a noose around his neck deciding what he can and cannot do. Now I've seen something I shouldn't have, who am I to demand answers? We shared some kisses and it was me who got all these useless thoughts into my head. Maybe I'm the one who thought it was more than what it was."

"Well he did kiss you," Tomas glanced at Veretta, "shouldn't he take some responsibility?"

"Responsibility?" Veretta uttered sadly, "But the truth is he told me from the start what he wanted and I promised to draw that line but I...didn't,"

"Then perhaps you ought to throw him away?" Tomas shrugged.

Veretta's eyes widened then she turned her head down bitterly, "I can't do that. I need to find a way to cure Errik or undo this binding first...maybe then,"

"Why don't you ask that general guy for help?" Tomas suggested, "he seems to know a lot about Errik,"

"That general is..." Veretta paused grievously, "...going to help me,"

"Well that's good, isn't it?" Tomas frowned.

Veretta's expression returned to quiet contemplation, "I'm afraid, Tomas. I don't know what is wrong with me these days. I feel...different,"

"Different?" Tomas glanced at her apprehensively.

"Like something is about to break and I don't know what will happen when it does," Veretta said quietly.

"It's not too late to stop," Tomas met her gaze ardently, "we don't have to do this. You know that right?"

Veretta shook her head with a weak smile, "I know, but if I don't, who am I? I am just someone who let everyone die for no one reason. Since I picked up that blade, all I can think about is death. If I don't kill Silthus, he will kill me - he will kill my soul,"

"And Errik?" Tomas stared down as a melancholy breeze traversed the tree over their heads.

"I think he does care about you Veretta," Tomas added quietly.

"I don't think I can love him and have my revenge at the same time," Veretta answered gravely. " And as to his feelings...can he really love while his life is bound to me? The more I think about it, the less possible it seems. The magic is so temperamental...I wonder if I didn't somehow compel him along the way because if he really loves this version of me, that would be even worse than if he didn't love me at all,"

As Tomas found the dark resolution in Veretta's eyes, he had no words. She was like a different person to the clumsy and studious girl he had met all those years ago. What would be a good answer? He couldn't think of one.

When Veretta left that afternoon, he felt a sense of unease. The sky was so bright but he felt like there were still dark clouds hanging over him. He didn't say it but he felt afraid too.

By late evening, the purple spell of the night had taken over the cloudless sky. The moon cast an eerily white light across the shadow covered campus. Veretta arrived at the Red General's door. He opened it with a dark merciless smile. The room was dark but for a ring of candles glowing forebodingly within. An altar entrained with blood spiralled in a circle on the floor. There were various artefacts, bones and herbs placed around it. A candle sat beside a large old tome. It was a book Veretta had never seen before. The general gestured her to sit.

He gingerly poured himself a glass of wine. He was dressed at least this time but there was a certain restlessness in his manner. He picked up the book and perched it on Veretta's lap. She stared down apprehensively. There were spells were scrawled by hand upon it. She had never seen anything like it before.

"What is this?" she asked inspecting it.

"It's an old keepsake," the general answered reticently.

Veretta studied the spell for a moment. In principle, it wasn't so different from the spells she had constructed herself but there were many parts she didn't understand.

"What kind of magic is this?" she questioned dubiously.

The general took a seat beside her and offered a glass of wine. Veretta shook her head focusing on the page. It was leather-bound but the feel of it was unusual. It was strangely wrinkled and slightly warm, almost as if it was alive.

"It's just something I had lying around," the general smiled, "well, can you do it?"

"Yes," Veretta answered in a low voice. "Who is it I am searching for?"

The general pulled a scroll from the bedside and unfurled it gently. Veretta glanced down at it. It was a painting. It looked old and the paper was worn but she made out a face. A beautiful face with gentle and delicate features. A type of ethereal beauty with shimmering white hair and rose coloured eyes. It reminded her at once of the person the general had questioned Errik about.

"Who is this?" Veretta's eyes panned up to the general.

"No one important," he answered with his usual guarded expression, "I just need you to tell me if they are dead or alive,"

"Fine," Veretta rose impatiently.

She knelt down to the altar and began to prepare according to the book. As he had promised, everything had been arranged by the general with efficaciousness she hadn't expected. Nothing had been left out.

Veretta started the spell as the general remained watching. He slowly sipped his wine with an air of indifference, but Veretta noticed he was indeed watching very carefully.

Veretta brought a blade across her hand. As the blood dripped down on the altar, she closed her eyes in concentration. She just had to search for that person in her mind. However, it was so dark. She felt something sticky at her feet like she was being drenched in thick water. She tried to open her eyes but her body didn't respond. The darkness wasn't empty either. She had the distinct feeling of being watched.

As she continued to feel this pull downwards, she was racked with voices in her mind.

'Murder'

'You wicked woman'

'How could you do this to us?!'

With growing alacrity, the voice grew stronger until the sound was almost unbearable. In the midst of this darkness, Veretta felt cold hands against her skin pulling her deeper and deeper. She began to struggle with all her strength begging herself to wake. Still, her body didn't respond.

Finally, a voice whispered amongst the crowd, "They're not here."

Veretta's eye opened with a start. She was once more staring at the candlelit altar. Veretta inhaled and exhaled rapidly. She had never felt anything like that in her life. Her body trembled so feverishly she was unable to move from shock. It was then, she realised that the general was crouched beside her studying her face with wide intensely dark eyes.

"Did you see them?" he demanded in a low hostile voice.

"N..no," Veretta stammered.

The general's eyes twitched. The black colour was overtaken by enraged red. The wine glass in his hand shattered. Veretta recoiled, startled. His nostrils widened as he exhaled a furious breath. He rose abruptly and proceeded to throw the old book with such force the spine broke on impact. Veretta was frozen in place. His calm demeanour had never shown any trace of such unbridled rage. Even as he fought Errik, he seemed nonplussed. It was as if until this moment, he had never been serious at all.

He seemed to remember Veretta was still there and turned back slowly. The maleficent red glow in his eyes remained.

"You should probably go now," he said with barely contained agitation.