Arising Fate

XIV

Lily's eyes fluttered open, a dimly lit chamber coming into focus. Sitting up, she rubbed the sleep and remaining tears from her eyes, which had fallen unknowingly like thick raindrops down her cheeks. Her hands, shaking, steadied themselves within the folds of the sheets where she gripped tightly, unable to stop the horrifying tremor that slid down her spine as she remembered glimpses of the dream world.

We will meet again Lillian. I will see you again.

His voiced seemed to wrap around her in the dark room like a glove, triggering a strange mix of eagerness, wild unadulterated hate, and pity within her core that only confused her more. She could feel the creature, who lurked within the depths of her mind, trapped behind the iron wrought gate she had forcefully constructed, brimming at the opportunity of meeting the warrior drenched in shadow again.

Make sure to tell Ashlar I say hi.

Remembering Ash's name now, it seemed like this man, this creature of nightmares, had been teasing her. It sent a burst of staggering flame to her cheeks, while her body submerged further into an impenetrable numbing cold that began at her ankles, trailing goose bumps up her shins, around her knees, over the curves of her hips, before settling to rest around her heart.

How would he know Ash? Was it even the same Ash she knew? The creature slinking in the dark spaces of her mind seemed to chuckle at her ignorance. Of course, he had meant the same Ash.

Suddenly, a loud jarring clamor broke through the thick folds of her memory, reeling her back to the reality surrounding her. Gazing up from under the thick locks of dark spiraling hair, she slowly unraveled her body from the black cocoon of blankets.

The room was shadowed in deep mahogany wood that shone in the light of a burning fire whose rays cast colours of glistening gold, copper, and blunt auburn against the walls of her chambers. It enhanced the gold filaments engrained in the wooden beams that laced their way across the floors, zigzagging up the walls and around the beams of her bed.

Lily watched, stunned and overcome by the simple, elegant, yet seductive beauty that surrounded every inch of this brutal world she found herself ensnared in despite her efforts. Climbing down from the luxurious blankets of fur and silk that had brought her a sense of brief security, Lily moved further into the spacious room, noticing a handwritten note accompanied by a bouquet of pure white lilies perched amongst a table filled with an assortment of fruit.

She let out a small laugh, despite herself, when she saw the note had "Open Me" scrawled across the front of it in elegant black cursive.

Inside lay one line. One line that propelled all the shadows that unknowingly clung to her heart, weighing her down, reeling back into their iron prison.

Hope is the thing with wings. Rise to it.

This note was different. There was no signature this time between the swirls of calligraphy, no indication of who left her the note in the beautiful penmanship of purple ink. Yet, Lily found she didn't need to know. The note itself had flooded her with enough light to temporarily banish the demons that had crawled out of the depths of her rising power. It had given her enough strength to stand in that moment, and continue down the narrow passage that lay behind the table, lit by candles whose wax gleamed in the fire's warmth. The same warmth now thrummed through her chest.

She was fire. She was light.

Within the fragments of shredded memory, the fragments she had retained from her time with the Queen, under the influence of the putrid serum that had drove her body into an abrupt state of shock, Lily remembered her mentioning the mark of the angels.