Inheritance

Part 2. Chapter 33: Irrational

Pollyanna sat on her bedside with her hands clasped in her lap.

She had to make the decision whether or not to tell Eory about her past.

She ran nervous fingers through her long hair after many moments of contemplation.

Like the rest of the fortress, her room was coated in sickening red light. It was beginning to make her head hurt.

She felt the ghost of long, elegant fingers playing with her hair.

Thighs pinched her hips; a voice cooed in her ear. "A sword doesn't doubt. A sword has no fear."

Pollyanna leaned back with a moan and let lips that were not really there kiss her neck.

She slid off her bed with heavy breaths. Sweat pooled on her forehead. "I want you Fjorn. I know it's you I really want and not Eory."

Pollyanna murmured quietly to herself. "You made me strong."

Pollyanna spun around, laying her cheek on the bed with a blank face.

She thought of how Eory had given her a choice in telling him everything.

None of his ancestors had ever given her a choice in anything; not even her own parents had ever given her a choice.

Her fingers dug into the blanket.

She clenched her teeth. Tears bloomed in the corner of her eyes. "Damn you! Why are you so kind to me! Why can't you be like the rest of us! I am not your equal, I am your slave. Take these wretched choices out of my hands so that I may live in peace again."

In a moment she nearly shouted, "why am I so afraid? I am invulnerable!"

Her skin was iron, her mind was laid bare.

__

Eory sat cross-legged on his bed.

His muscles ached from the training session earlier and his head hurt from learning something new.

He had gotten several bruises from losing matches to almost every other recruit he had gone up against. He worried about being set on the battlefield in his current condition. I have to do better... We only have one more day of training left, too.

The thought of being put on the battlefield made his heart nearly pound out of his chest.

All he could envision were the dozens of ways he might die.

He glanced at his door, wondering if Pollyanna would come.

She won't come! Taylor promised with a giggle. A sword will not come to your hand unless you grab it.

The red lighting coating the door made his insides squirm.

Eory pulled his legs up to his chest and leaned his cheek upon a knee.

Eory wanted to have faith in her; even if he could no longer love and idolize her, he wanted to help her.

She was an evil woman, but she must have had her reasons. Untold damage had been done to her by his own family and a cruel world which had turned its back on her.

Kori had given him a second chance. Pollyanna deserved a second chance, too.

If she comes... I think it means that she wants to be helped deep down... Eory thought to himself.

Taylor merely laughed raucously at him.

Eory's eyes stayed locked on the door.

It felt like an hour had gone by, and he was about to give up with a heart that was too heavy to carry, but then...