Tehya was so weak she didn’t leave her room, and depression took the bard over wringing its hands in glee. Her room in pastels faded even without dreaming and nightmares. She was so lethargic her appetite waned and her usual blue stained lips were becoming pale pink and parched.
There were questions in her mind, madness no doubt, but she had enough awareness to wonder why no one came to rescue her and save her from the fated curse. Wide blue eyes stared at her wall, and sleep no doubt snatched the weakened Sylvan into its claws as her dark lashes closed only to begin another terrible nightmare.
She hadn’t eaten in two days since food lost all its appeal and never left the room being so weak. She was dressed oddly for the Sylvan and wore the black hooded cloak she had disguised herself in when she traveled south on the last day of the war. Underneath she was totally nude, soft pink nipples rubbed against the too scratchy fabric, but even that abuse didn’t wake her.
The four walls of her room turned black as night, and had white indented holes in them for prizes. They were much like the cubbyholes one would find at a fair or festival. She never left her bed but sat there staring at each hole, until the image of S`otanath appeared.
His gray flesh and missing eyes left her speechless, for she seen he was dead and knew the Bystander would not have left unless he was truly extinct. He spoke to her and his voice was harsh and strangled like he may have been fighting to stay alive.
“You love to please, but tonight you will gamble.”
She blinked her blue eyes still resting her back against the headboard of her bed.
“Go away paragon you’re the plague itself, you died now leave me to rest. I shall not gamble with the likes of you.”
His clawed fingers curled and he tried to lure her over to him.
“The prize is your life or mine.”
“You’re dead I said, there is no option to win. Go away you fucking menace to the world.”
His laughter filled the room because he knew the more she fought him, the weaker she would become. Seven days without sleep would first cause madness, and then death. He wanted her dead because he knew ~who~ she called upon to bring help to the others that killed him.
“Shall you choose hole number one pretty lass? You will find your wish inside one of my gambling devices or die.”
“I shall choose none, I live and you are dead…dead…DEAD!”
Tehya no longer had a pretty voice it was raspy, and her throat was parched from not leaving the room to get food or drink. Her long wheaten blonde hair was matted and hung aimlessly over her shoulders in a twisted mess.
Her mind was muddled and fuzzy. She knew this was a nightmare, and suddenly realized that it was the week anniversary of his death. The ten holes in the wall were each lined in white, with numbers underneath them, and she realized that for him to be gone from her mind even though he was dead, the lucky number would be seven.
“I choose one number and then you shall perish forever.”
He threw back his head and laughed at her.
“Are you so full of yourself that you think out of ten numbers you will choose the right one? Clever is as clever dies!”
Her legs felt like someone was holding them down, one of the signs of a person losing their life, but she had to outwit this man or nightmare, whatever the beast inside her mind was.
“I choose seven! Your lucky day S`otanath' the week anniversary of your death.”
Shrill screams filled the room, the black walls began to close and the holes disappeared. Her ears rang from the noise and her hands covered them in pain. Each white hollowed hole began to close up and the walls lightened to their normal shade of beige. He had vanished and she knew S`otanath was dead, and finally out of her mind.
Tehya was so weak she didn’t even lie down, but fell into a fast sleep losing track of time. A day later she woke up to find the sun beaming inside her room, someone had laid her flat on the bed with a pillow under her head and a soft coverlet was drawn over her naked body. The black hooded cloak she wore to the war was taken way, and on her nightstand there was an invitation to celebrate.
The Emperor stuck his head round the door and gave her a knowing wink.
"You can go baaack to counting sheep when you sleep, from now on." Then he was gone as quickly as he had arrived.
Of course Tehya knew from the way he said the word –back- the past came up again, and she hadn’t lost her sense of humor. His play on words reminded her of the sneaky endeavor of bringing the sheep into the small room of the palace.
~The end of the war~