"Caged" by Lyndsay E. Gilbert aka Liadan

She lay in the dark for days.  And wondered if a world without a sun truly even had days.  Castle life continued around her she knew.  People rose from their beds when the artificial light graced the sky and they lived out their lives under it’s fake warmth.  And when the light was put out the natural state of darkness would fall over the Kyalla Domiea.  The Kingdom of Midnight. 

Those living within the main Kingdom walls should feel privileged. Lasha knew that those outside were afforded not even the mock of a sun glaring out of Epsilon’s ever changing skys.  They would see the truth of it.  The turmoil of storm and mist.

 Her candle had long since burned out and Osiris had given her only one to bring into her seclusion.  She had used it well and saw it last for three days before it had ran out and she had counted two more days had passed by the regular meals that were slipped silently into the room.

They tasted like dust in her mouth, dry and tasteless.  She had passed the hours by dreaming of Cage.  And as hard as she tred she could not seem to shake the image of him walking away from her at the docking bay, stopping to wave at least five times before he disappeared from sight.  She had begged him not to go to this war…there were other battles he could fight…

But she could never tell him which battle she wished he would fight the most.  For his father was King, and tyrants had what they wanted and none could take it from them.  He had taken her as his courtesan.  He had taken her the day her parents had laid their heads on the axe’s block.  Traitors both.

He had never spoken of the love between his son and this orphan girl, not until Lasha had found herself still lying in his arms one thousand years later and hearing his cruel voice speak of hate and victory.  And she had suffered his torture, knowing that she must warm his bed when she wished for none other than his son to hold her and block out the searing kisses. She was twisted.

His favourite son.  His son he could not allow to be happy. 

Lasha wished she could have told Cage of his father’s knowledge.  She wished she had told him Osiris laughed at their plight, that their love was not a secret.  Their love was another pain that she endured.  For it made Osiris’s touches burn her soul.  It made her want to scratch out her heart.  It was the heart of a witch and its temple was the body of a whore.

She was unworthy of Cage’s smile. She was unworthy of his strong arms that held her in dreams while he was gone…and she wished he would come for her and take her from the darkness.

She should not have refused her master’s attentions.  She should not have thought herself above lying in his bed.  No, not for one moment.  And she was sorry .

*                 *                 *

I watched the lonely butterfly that fluttered in the park

I lay there as the light did fade and longer in the dark

I stood to leave but marked my spot

I Said I’d come back soon

And So I kept my promise

And came again next noon

I found that self same butterfly was dancing not alone

There seemed to be another that into its heart had flown

I watched them tease the other

And remembered you and I

I stayed there till the breeze turned cold

Before I said goodbye

The other did not fly today I found it lying still

The Left one circled round its grave ‘till mourning had its fill

I remember when they told me

They left you lying cold

So that I must be as I am now

Without a dream to hold

*                 *                 *

Light streamed into her room and she woke bathed in candle glow from the passage outside.  A figure stood silhouetted in the doorframe and she strained her eyes hoping to see the glint of golden hair.  Cage’s playful smile, his shining eyes.

But the figure lit a torch and she saw that it was Osiris.  Relief filled her, for she was glad that he had come to free her, but the respite faded to fear when he stormed towards her, the torch fire dancing manically in his cold eyes.  His beautiful eyes that seemed dead to her. Dead because of the souls of those he had destroyed.  They stared out at her in accusation.

His hand reached down, gripping a handful of her hair and pulling her to stand.  She had no time to question before she felt the blow of his hands on her face. She covered it with her arms, backing away from him. He rammed the torch handle into her head and she head a sickening crack.  Blood spilled down her face and she cried out, not knowing what she had done to deserve this punishment. 

She was forced to the floor, and blood trickled from her mouth when he slammed his boot into her stomach.  She coughed, rolling onto her front and screaming when she felt fire on her back, “Stop!”  She gasped, “Please…what have I done…”

Tears of pain trailed down her cheeks, “What have I done?”  She cried.

And when he spoke she wished she had not asked, “You little witch!  Tell me why you asked him not to go!”

He lowered to the floor beside her, taking her shoulders and shaking her so that she snapped from side to side, like a patchwork doll in the teeth of a dog, “Why didn’t you speak of your feelings more explicitly?!”

She struggled weakly in his grip, her head spinning. Weaving lights of red and black and white behind her eyes, “Why are you saying all this…what..”

She could not bring herself to ask.  Her heart beat so strongly in her chest that ache surged through her.

Osiris’s grip on her shoulder tightened, and he looked at the ground, black bangs falling long and spiked across his eyes.  He showed only the emotions of hate and anger, lust and envy…but was this grief?

She wanted to scratch out his blue eyes.

“Cage was killed…” He whispered, looking accusingly at Lasha, “And you fought with me about that war…you knew!”

Lasha’s mind was swimming , she went limp in his grip, her head rolling back.  He did not support her and she slumped back against the wall.  No arms to catch her.  There would never be arms to catch her now.

She reached a pale hand towards Osiris face, she shook violently as she touched his ivory cheek and told herself he was not real, “Liar…”  She sobbed.

He placed his own hand over hers and he gripped it tight, crushing her bones.  She did not even flinch, her eyes staring through him, “Liar…”  she said again.  Knowing that she could only speak to herself now.

His hand came across her face once more and she tried to crawl to the blacked out window.  But he gripped her hair, dragging her back to him, “What did you know?”  He asked again, taking her aching face in his palms and kissing her broken bleeding lips, “Evil temptress…little witch.  Did you send your own soul mate to his death?  Did you kill my son…”

She turned her face to the side, pushing at him with crushed hands, “You killed him…”  She shouted, “You did…and he will be waiting for me.”  She gazed at the windows, seeing them open.  The wooden boards painted black crashed to the marble floor, “He wants me beside him…”

Deep in her soul she remembered Cage’s real words, “Always wait in life for me…I will find you again.” 

But these were the words of an idealist, not the will of the dead.  Living without him was not living.  It was a parody of breathing if she was not tasting him on the air, and a mockery of touching if she could not feel his lips on hers nor run her hands through his long gold hair.  She was blind if she was not looking into his eyes.

*wait for me in life, do not search for me in death…*

Osiris’s grief cried out for her pain, and she could see him drawing knives from his belt as though from far away.  He did not hear the voice that rang through her.  She was so far away that she did not feel Osiris stab the knife inside her, tracing words of allegation into her skin. 

*This is not life…this existence was only bearable because of you…*

She answered the voice in her mind, talking as she had done all her life, speaking in her soul to the one that was her other half...

*where are you…*  She asked.  The world around her was becoming dim, the trace of Osiris’s knives only a distant cold sting, *please come back Cage…*

The torch lay, still burning, on the marble floor beside her and she gazed at it, feeling all else around her fade away. She wanted to sleep…

*Do not close the eyes of your soul, my love…wait for me…*

And as she gave way to the dark, the eyes of her soul could still see butterflies. Butterflies dancing in moonlight.  She was not guilty…

*                 *                 *