The Book of Mara

Chapter 8

I laid on the bed staring up at the ceiling, counting the blocks for the thirtieth time. Oddly enough, the number hadn't changed from the 75 that I had counted a half an hour ago. I was going crazy; I knew I was. I was the picture-perfect definition of insanity. I couldn't take this anymore. Jumping up, I raced to the door and began pounding on it.

“Erik! Bring me, Erik! Please!! Erik!" I screamed.

The guard on the other side of the door hissed something back at me, slamming his arm on the door. I knew it was more than likely he was telling me to shut up, but I didn't care. I was not going to spend one more hour in this tiny room staring out this window, wondering what my fate was.

“Look ya giant, gold, greenish… people… I want to speak to my brother! Doesn't the prisoner get some sort of rights! This is inhumane! Even on earth, they got let out once a day!" I shouted.

“You're not on earth," replied a voice just beyond my view.

“Erik," I gasped out happily. “Look, I know you don't believe me, and that's okay. I will do whatever you need me to do to persuade you. But please… please, don't leave me here another night."

Erik's face came into view. His dark hair was swept back in a thick ponytail of dreadlocks that the other men wore. Yet, his brown eyes… those I remembered from my childhood. The way they would light up when he laughed or teased me. Or how they would narrow when he was angry about something.

“Please… Erik," I pleaded.

“I want to know why you think you are my sister. And the truth this time," he demanded.

“Because I am. I am your sister Mara Natalie Corliss. Your name is Erik Rupert Corliss," I purposely used his middle name that he had always wished to keep secret, knowing that had to get his attention. “You were born in Minneapolis on February 29th. Leap day. We always celebrated it on the 28th because you'd rather celebrate it early than late," I explained, my voice breaking with the intense number of emotions that rose up.

Just standing here looking into his eyes reminded me of how just how much I had missed him. He squinted those eyes at me as if he were trying to figure out how I knew all of this.

“You disappeared on October 23, ten years ago. You had gone on your morning run since you were training for some sport or another. The only thing they found of you was one muddy shoe print right before you entered The Great Oak Archway. I have searched for you ever since." I explained as fresh tears entered my eyes.

I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the lump in my throat.

He stepped back a bit and turned, rubbing his face thoughtfully before finally turning back to the door and throwing it open.

“Come with me," he ordered me, reaching out he grabbed my arm, and practically dragging me out of the room.

“Hey!" I shouted, trying to dig in my feet.

“Look, girl. You say you're my sister, and I'll admit you seem to know a hellova lot about me. But if you wish to be free of this room, that will be up to the King," he explained to me.

Erik walked me down the steps towards the courtyard. Halfway down the stairs, I could hear the commotion going on below.

“What's happening?" I asked.

“King Tohrah is back from his trip to the neighboring kingdom. It is the reason for our celebrating," Erik explained, his mouth turned up a half-grin.

The sounds that were coming from the room gave me the distinct impression that the celebration was not just food and drink. I tried to prepare myself for whatever I would find once we joined the party. When we stepped through the large wooden doors, it was beyond anything I could have imagined.

It was wall-to-wall people. Several tables were lined up and laden down with all sorts of different plates and cups filled to the brim with food and drinks. Wherever there wasn't food or cups, there were people. Most were eating, laughing, and drinking. Some of them, however, were locked into various erotic acts.

The king sat at the head of the tables with his own personal posse of half-naked women prancing around him. One of the women decided to fall into the chairs, though it did not look accidental.

The king let out a roar that reverberated through the chamber, and I wouldn't have doubted if they had heard it throughout the whole valley.

All the noise in the room came to a halt, and everyone looked at him. The woman in the chair immediately dove out of it and knelt before the king trembling. The king hissed something out angrily, and two guards stormed into the room. They grabbed the woman jerking her out of the room despite her cries. At least, I thought they were cries, yet the weird hissing language could be misconstrued easily.

“Wh… what is he doing?" I asked Erik.

He looked back at me; his eyes dark with the anger that seems to be rippling through the room.

“She sat in the queen's chair. The only person who sits in it is the Queen. It was a great insult for her to touch the queen's chair, much less have the audacity to sit in it," Erik explained.

“What will happen to her?" I asked not sure I wanted to know.

“She will be reminded of her place," Erik replied, simply leaving the rest to my imagination.

I couldn't delve into that any further as the king caught sight of us and waved us forward. As we walked through the hall, every eye turned on us now. Agitated, I dropped my eyes to the ground and tried to pretend the people I was walking by were not in various stages of undress… or without clothing at all.

My brother knelt on one knee as soon as we were in front of the king. I stood behind my brother and kept my eyes down until I heard a gruff growl. I jerked my head up and came face to face with the king of these intimidating people; the man that had won such devotion from my brother. His golden eyes boring into mine pinning me to my place like he had grabbed me by my shoulders and held me physically.

He wasn't extraordinary handsome or even classically handsome, yet I felt the pull to him, nonetheless. His dark honey blond hair was exceptionally long and pulled into a tight fishbone braid down his back. His broad chest was encased in a soft-looking silk top that was bright white and slightly translucent, highlighting the skin underneath. His pants were the same soft-looking fabric, but bright gold with intricate designs woven throughout them.

Across his forehead was a golden tattoo much more fluid and elaborate than everyone else's. Only these were similar to fire, like a crown of pure golden fire had been marked across his forehead.