The Forgotten IV

“You’re in trouble with the Darkness.”

Eliakim chuckled. “Again?”

Tharon clicked his forked tongue at the young demon. “You were given the woman to torment, yet you don’t. Too much for you, pretty boy?”

Eliakim eyed the furry, horned demon. “It’s too bad every form you take is still ugly. And who said I’m not tormenting her?”

Tharon’s eyes glowed with smug arrogance. “Oh, sure, lingering in the corner of her vision is tormenting. What is wrong with you, hot stuff?”

Eliakim waved him away. “Leave me, Tharon. Tell the Darkness I’ll do better.”

“Sure, sure, I’ll believe it when I hear her screams.” Tharon vanished.

I know what I’m supposed to do. I watch her wander the halls of this castle, just like I have for the last twenty years. She thinks she’s been here less than a year…

I don’t know why she’s here. The Darkness never tells.

All I do know? She’s beautiful. And afraid. That horned idiot Tharon would feast on her fear.

I can’t.

I know her name, but I cannot give it to her. The Darkness would know, or Tharon would tell it, and I would face final death. The Forgotten have to be here a very long time to regain their names; as of now, I only know of one. Tharon’s fallen angel knows his name, and it’s been said he knows what sent him here, but I’m not certain of that.

Sometimes, during her wandering, she calls out to me.

“Who’s there?”

What do I say to her? If she knew me, knew what I am, would I still be able to watch her, soak in her beauty, the way I do now? To watch her bathe in the light of the candles … her ivory skin almost as pale as mine…

What is happening to me?

I watch her write, wondering if she senses I left the paper and pen for her. The ink … isn’t ink. But it will work for now. And I heal quickly.

I’m so close, I can smell the scent of her skin. I see her write her name, letter by letter.

Aisling. I breathe it, knowing she can’t hear me, but … she feels me. Crazily, I wish I could see her under the moonlight, but I know it will never happen.

She can’t escape this castle, and neither can I.

“You’re there, aren’t you?” she whispers. “Please … tell me.”

Twenty years spirals down to one moment.

I breathe in.

“I’m here.”