"Three Pearls"
by Osiris Brackhaus

 

If ever true love would form in a heart of ice, wouldn't it have to grow a shell of pearl to stay alive?

----
First Pearl

"This is not another sanctuary you can defile!"

Lying on the ground, disarmed and bleeding, my words were backed by nothing but the conviction burning in my heart.

"And who will stop me from doing whatever I please? You?"

Chuckling mirthlessly, weighing his swords as if pondering with which to strike the final blow, he stepped across the hall to look down upon me.

"Look at yourself, you pathetic grunt. You're as good as dead. There's no one else left. Why do you still fight?"

Coughing up some bloody bile, I tried to figure the thoughts behind this cruel conqueror's handsome face. He was hardly out of breath, his chest, bare except for the loose cloak of white fur, moving as if he had just come from a leisurely walk.

"You can kill me at your whim, I know." Staring into his almost colourless eyes, I yearned to find at least a remotely human trait within him. "But that is not what you seek, is it?"

He raised a graceful arch of his eyebrow.

"You have killed them too fast, too neat. There is no one left to tell you that you have done more than senseless slaughter, that you have not killed but defeated, not brought hate but also fear into the hearts of those you have fought."

His face was without motion now, pale and flawless and inhuman in his cold beauty.

"You can only kill me, but you will never see me defeated."

He stepped closer, his swords at his sides as if still pondering which way to strike me down best.

The moment he took for his calm consideration was enough for me to notice how badly I was hurt. Cold was seeping into my chest, and I knew I wouldn't last much longer. But to my great confusion, this demon in human guise knelt down next to me, studying me with a thoughtfulness I'd have never expected to see in his gaze.

Taking a bloodied strand of hair out of my face, he said calmly:

"You're rather bright, for a mere human."

Now what devilry he was plotting? He and his men had butchered all my people, mercilessly killed each and every human living around the temple I had had the duty to protect with my life.
Could my words really have managed to touch his frozen heart?

For a mere heartbeat, an expression manifested in the flawless features of the conqueror, something like pain, maybe longing, sadness. I wasn't that arrogant to believe it might have been remorse. As suddenly as it had come, the expression left his face again, to be replaced by cold calculation.
He touched my face, gently, and with a weird kind of dread I noticed that even though he had killed so many people already, there was not a single drop of blood to be seen on his almost iridescent skin.

"I think I will keep you", he said after a while, "Once cleaned, you'll actually look quite cute."

"You do not really expect me to be grateful, do you?", I spat before I could think better of it.

But he merely laughed, rising up again, putting his swords back in their scabbards on his back. Looking down on me from his pale eyes, he said:

"No, I expect no gratitude." With a malicious grin, he added: "I expect you to love me."

----
Second Pearl

"How can you dare to defy me in front of my men?!", he yelled, hurling his heavy body against mine. "How can you DARE!"

Violently, the tent's center pole impacted in my back, and his elbow slammed against my chin, making my head hit the wooden pole. Before I could think of anything to say, he had his dagger out, holding the gleaming steel against my unprotected throat.

"How can you dare?" This time, he sounded more disappointed than furious, but I could see the dread in his colourless eyes. "Why do you harm me so?"

"Because you were wrong."

I could see the rage distort his features, see his muscles twitch in boundless anger. And yet, his blade didn't move to take my life.

"I am the Gods' chosen. I am the One! How can you dare to think you'd know better than me?"

"Because your strategy was still wrong. They would just slaughter your men."

Just like he had slaughtered mine.

I could hear him grind his teeth, could see his lower jaw move forward in a helpless gesture of defiance. The way he pressed his heavily muscled body against mine made me painfully aware how much I desired him, longed to feel his touch on my skin not with the intent to maim but to caress, not trying to hurt but to heal.
I knew he desired my body just as much, as he had proven several times already, but I longed for him to desire me.

But the man who held both my body and my heart captured against my will just grinned, a mean, feral gesture, and snarled:

"So why don't you just let us walk into the trap? Wouldn't it suit you to see us all killed? Wouldn't that please your little vengeful heart?"

Vengeance. Ha! How often had I hoped to be able to resort to such simple feelings. But no, by whatever charm or spell, this heartless conqueror who had so thoughtlessly eradicated all I had cherished had truly managed to claim my admiration, maybe even my love.
His energy seemed boundless, just as his cruelty. If given the right aims, he might have been the ruler my people had been waiting for since generations, to lead us out of desperate misery, to unite, control and pacify a realm as humanity had never seen before.
Was it haughty of me to hope I would be the one to show him how? Was it arrogant to believe I could wake a human heart in a man who didn't even act as if he had a soul?
Was it naive to expect love returned from a man who had ordered me to love him?

"There is no vengeance in my heart," I replied, "only sadness."

His lips curved in a disgusted snarl, and once more I wondered if he knew how devastating he would look if he would ever let his lips smile the smile they seemed to be made for.

"Liar", he hissed, pulling the dagger across my skin, drawing blood, just enough to make white pain blossom on my throat. "You hate me!"

"No." As much as this answer hurt me, I knew it to be true. "No, as much as I try, I can only hate your actions."

Still pressing my head against the tent-pole with his elbow, he stared at me. Not with the furious anger I had seen burn in his eyes so many times by now, but with an insecurity that made him look almost human. Vulnerable. And surprisingly young.

"I despise the way you treat you your men, I could cry every night when I see you plot more devastation on this country you could bring prosperity to instead. Your work makes my skin crawl, and worst of all, I cannot bring myself to hate you."

"Stop talking to me like that!", he whispered, but in the way his voice shook I could see how much he was touched by my words. Maybe there truly was hope. "I don't want to hear you whine!"

"I am not whining," I replied calmly. I had seen the crack in his otherwise impenetrable armour of ice, and I wouldn't let this chance pass. "I am telling you that I love you."

Taken aback, he blinked. For the first time since he decided not to kill me, he was at a loss of words. But I wasn't. Once I had said what I had feared to be in my heart for a long time already, it was easy to say again.

"I love you."

"Stop this!"

"I love you."

"I told you to shut up!", he yelled, slamming me against the tent-pole once more.

Laughing through the pain, I finally knew there was a human being hidden behind all his impeccable god-given perfection.

"You can kill me, and that wouldn't make you happy. You can hurt me, and that wouldn't change what I feel for you. Are you so weak you can't even accept such a tiny little defeat?"

Locking eyes with him, I knew I had touched his heart. Fear and passion battled for supremacy in the pale depth of his eyes, and I knew which one would win. He wasn't the one to give in to his fears, never.

"All I ask of you is to love me in return."

" I hate you," he hissed, but then he leaned forward to kiss my throat violently, passionately, kissing away the blood he had drawn with his own dagger.

"You don't."

He stopped, and looked up at me again, releasing my head slowly. His eyes were burning with passion, and his sensuous lips were still tinged red with my blood. His gaze made my blood catch fire.

"How can you love me after all I have done? How can you say that?"

"I don't know. But it's still less painful than to lie to you."

This time, it was me who took his head between my palms kissing him with all the desire I felt for him, the human I saw within him.

"So you really love me...", he whispered under his breath when I released him. "I.... "

He looked at me, and once again, this strange expression between pain and sorrow passed his beautiful face.

"Get undressed", he order snappily, but I knew that wasn't what he had wanted to say.

"Say it.", I said gently, slowly untying the cord that held his fur cloak.

"I... " He looked at me, and I could see that he was fighting hard to say what his heart told him he should say. "I - kind of like you as well..."

So it wasn't to be today.
With silent sigh, I accepted his weak attempt at closeness, kissing him once more.
It wouldn't happen today, but soon enough.
And then I could start to make him human.

----
Third Pearl

"No."

Instead of an answer, he howled in rage, throwing a heavy chair through the tent.

"You know you can't. You haven't got enough men left. It would be slaughter."

Again, he howled like a wounded animal, a sound of infernal pain, of fury, of anger. He still was the Gods' Chosen One, perfect, relentless, his energy not diminished by a hair's breadth. But his men had proven to be merely human.
One by one, his men had died in last month conquests, and even though my pale-haired lover had led them on with his flawless courage, fatigue among his ranks had taken its toll. The soldiers were content with the loot he had allowed them to collect, were longing to go home and enjoy their gains.

But he had driven them on, urging them into one more fight after another, forcing them to believe in him, to fight for him to die for him.

And seeing your companions die had never been a good thing for an army far away from home.

I had told him so often, argued with him when we were alone in our tent after his other advisors had left. Told him to stop and rest for a season, maybe build a city, a temple for his heartless gods, or go home and gather a new army when his people once again grew restless. I told him he couldn't lead an army if no one but him no longer believed in where he was leading them. At least, not for long.

But he couldn't stop.

Like a fire burning within him, there was a passion, an urge to go on that consumed him, ate away whatever reason he might have pitted against it. And he lost, little by little.

This morning, we had had the first men not answering their morning calls. Like thieves in the night, they had fled, and I couldn't bring myself to mind their actions. He would have let them go, probably, if they had asked, but they had known just as well as I that he once again would have been able to charm them, call upon their honour, their greed, whatever would have made them stay. He would have turned them around like a shepherd would have redirected a nosy lamb.

He had been furious ever since he had been informed, raging like a mad beast, knocking down his aide who had brought the ill news. He was losing his men, and he didn't want to see.

"TRAITORS!", he yelled, "CURSED TRAITORS!"

"No", I replied once more, trying to stay calm facing his fury. "They are not traitors. Just men who want to return to their wives in flesh, not in legend, who want to see their children. You have taken years of their lives, don't you ever get enough?"

Hurling a heavy trunk in my general direction, he howled one last time, then sat motionless for a moment.

"Your men are tired, love. Give them a respite. You are the Gods' chosen. They are just human beings."

Still he sat, crouched on the ground, unmoving as if dead.

"And I know you are needing a rest, too. Look at what you have gained. There is no need to press on."

Suddenly, he looked up, and the kind of fire I could see in his eyes made me fear the worst.

"Go get me my bow!"

"I'm not your servant."

"You're my slave."

"No. I'm the one you love."

"As if I could ever love a whiny weakling like you."

His words hurt, more than I would have believed they could. And yet, it had been in his eyes far too often not to believe, far to obvious in his actions not to know. But until now, he had never said it.

"Now get my bow."

"What do you want to do?"

"Hunt for traitors..."

"This is madness, love", I exclaimed, hoping against hope I might be able to convince him to let go of his mindless pursuit. If he started killing his own men, everything would fall apart. "They are your men."

"If they run like dogs, I will shoot them appropriately. Now get that cursed bow!"

"No."

Now truly madness flickered in the corners of his eyes as he raised to his feet, walking across the tent towards me, menacingly, coldly.

"So, of all people, you are plotting against me as well? Has your day of revenge finally arrived?"

"You know I would never hurt you. But if you start killing your men, your soldiers will believe you as heartless and evil as the gods you serve, and fear was never a reliable motivation. They might still fight for you, but they might just as well run or turn and fight against you."

"You talk too much."

Walking past me, violently shoving me aside on the way. In a corner of our tent, he got his bow and strung it, testing the sinew with the skill of the great marksman he was.

"You won't leave the tent like this!", I pointed out, and he cocked his head slightly, seizing me with his eyes, saying:

"Or else what?"

"I will stop you," I replied, taking up one of his swords that was lying close by.

"You and that toothpick?" he snorted spitefully, checking if there were enough arrows left in his quiver. "I fought you once, I bested you, and we both know I will every time again. So what's the point?"

"I have to."

"What? Betray me?"

"Protect you from yourself."

"You are always so haughty, so impeccable in your convictions. Have you ever thought someone else might be right as well?"

"You're telling me?"

"Let me pass!"

"No."

For several heartbeats, we both faced each other, he was holding his bow, I was holding his sword. He looked at me as if he was surprised by my action. He should have known me better by now. I loved him, but that included trying to protect him from himself. Even if that meant risking my own life, maybe even at his very hands.

"So you have finally turned against me..." His voice trailed off into silence, bearing a fatigue so deep it made my skin crawl. Never before had I seen him so listless, never before had thought it possible he could be brought down by anything mortal. Especially not by me. "Raising your sword against me, is that what you call love?"

"Yes."

"Then you are madder than I can ever be." With these words, he dropped his bow, grabbing for another sword with the same motion, hurling towards me like hell's fury unleashed. With more luck than skill, I could parry his first blows, fighting the one man I loved for life or death. Though I couldn't decide if it was my death or his I wished for.

"Traitor", he hissed at me, his pale eyes blazing in wrath and pain.

"Stop this, love", I replied without listening to the insult, "You can't fight without your men, and your men are tired. Give them some rest!"

"Why are you trying to weaken my resolve?" Once more, he attacked me with a hail of blows, but to my own surprise, I held my ground. "Why?"

"I am trying to strengthen your reason!"

"If that is reason, I want nothing of it." Howling like a feral beast, he lunged at me, his sword raised as if he tried to split me from head to toe. The impact of his massive blow brought me to my knees, but even then his blade only managed to nick the skin of my cheek.

"Stop this", I urged him, hoping vainly he might come to his senses before anything irreversible happened. But in my heart, I already knew there would be no such luck for us, not his time.

"I'd rather see you dead." Again, he raised his sword for a final blow, but I rolled out of his reach before he could strike. This time, the ensuing fight between us had no moments to catch breath, not a heartbeat of a chance to have him change his mind. It was either him or me, and yet, I could not give up and let him win.

Afterwards, I could not really recall how it had happened. He was a far better fighter than I had ever been, he had been the Gods' Chosen One. But all of a sudden, as I expected him to parry a move he had parried a hundred times before, his hand just didn't move to intercept my blade. Even as I saw the tip of my sword pierce his skin, saw his pale eyes tired and defeated, our mutual momentum was too much for either one of use to stop the unbearable from happening.

Only when the hilt of my sword pressed against his chest, our motions slowed, both of us breaking down on our knees. He tried to speak, but only blood trickled from his lips, while I was still frantically trying to understand what I had done.
He had been the last person alive on this world I had any connection to, the only person my name was remembered by, and I had killed him, run him through with his own sword. I tried to scream, but my lungs felt as if I had been the one impaled.

"Maybe now", he whispered, more blood trickling from his mouth and also from his chest, hot liquid flowing freely over my fingers that still clasped the hilt in unending disbelief. "Maybe now I will find peace."

He coughed once more, and then his body slumped sideways, the fleeing soul unable to support the dying body any longer.

"Oh my love, what have I done?", I whispered, tears forming in my eyes as my heart understood my loss before I even knew. Stroking his hair out of his regal brow, I knelt next to him, my fingers leaving red smears on his flawless skin.

One last time, a light of life flickered in the cool depth of his eyes, and coarsely, he whispered: "You have brought me peace, my love..."

And then, he just died.

-------

Hearing of the death of their half-god leader, my lover's army disappeared like mist in the morning sun, slowly, unnoticeably, until suddenly, all were gone. The tents ransacked and torn apart, some burning as a fire hadn't been put out properly in the rushed departure.
No, not rushed, it had been panicked. None of the many men had had a word left for me, none of them bothered to ask how it had happened or why. And worst of all, none of them had had the decency to give their leader the burial he would have deserved.
Like vultures, they had gone through everything in our tent, taking all that was of any worth, leaving only me and the corpse behind.

So I built him a pyre of his own tent's poles, gathered the wood the soldiers had left behind. I wrapped his body in the ripped linen of his tent, and bedded him on what was left of his once so grand bed. No-one had bothered to take it with them, only the gold inlets had been smashed out.

How I managed to get the pyre lit despite the constant tears that were running down my face I do not know, how I managed to stay awake and at his side until even the last ashes were cold, I can't understand.

When the next morning's sun rose, the fire was cold, as my heart, and instead of leaving, I knelt down in the ashes and cried, cried and wailed until I thought I had no tears left, and then I cried on.

But then, there came a moment when I stood up and left, going nowhere in particular, holding close to my heart the only thing I would keep from my life, still crying tears that seemed to have no end.

Three pearls among my lover's ashes I have found,
but the tears I shed are without number...

----

the end.

 

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to: Osiris Brackhaus

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