Under the Oak Tree - Head in the Puffy Clouds: A Collection of Daydreams

Daydream 02: Those Yellow Parchments (Part II)

[continued from Daydream 02 Part I] 

Despite his wide strides, the march back to his castle felt like an arduously long journey. Riftan was struggling to block out the festival rehearsals which were increasingly audible. His heart was already palpitating with conflicting emotions, and he could feel his fingers running bloodless as they gripped onto the parcel.

Riftan had spent the past year desperately annihilating her from his heart and mind. Blood, tears and sweat were paid to build his emotional defence from the darkness that almost devoured his soul.

Yet it was exasperatingly impossible.

The presence of Maximillian Calypse had been cemented in him close to the entirety of his lifespan. In the past, a mere recollection of her was enough to suffocate him. What more could be said now? Having finally tasted the bliss of her physical presence; he could no longer be satisfied with memories. She had filled the void in his heart as his only happiness and comfort.

Idiot. Didn't you swear not to be like Mother?

The haunting scene of his wife turning to walk away had been playing on a loop in his mind every night. He had revealed the most vulnerable side of himself, yet in return she had chosen to leave.

Did you know then that it was a lie? That you've me like a fool around your fingers since the beginning? That you'd have left me waiting for centuries and I'll still be here holding on to your words, with nothing but my fucking bones left? Or did you not care enough, and choose to head your way?

His hands held onto the package even tighter. Riftan could feel his rage triumphing against the other conflicting emotions.

If only I'm fucking stronger. More influence, more power.

That was why he chose to devote himself completely to work. He needed to amass resources and connections for Anatol to strengthen his political presence in the seven kingdoms.

And perhaps that was how he had finally set up his coping mechanism. He had initially put up this stoic front hoping that Maxi would be threatened by his nonchalance and change her mind. When it turned out that her intention was final, he could only bury himself with work and alcohol to alleviate the crushing misery. It was working somehow, until the arrival of this simple package which was now destroying his unsinkable battleship like a raging kraken.

Riftan was certainly aware that that this exhilaration was cruelly fuelled by his sanity. He would be reeling in maddening withdrawal symptoms once again when the high subsided.

Fuck. Then I guess I'm really the idiot who is willing to die for you again.

Lost in his thoughts, Riftan habitually arrived upon the entrance of his office. A revolting stench immediately seized his lungs when the doors swung open.

What in the hell is this disgusting smell?

Holding a presence of her in his hands seemed to have broken him out of his stupor. Now, the state of his living quarters finally came into realisation.

It appeared his coping mechanism extended to his living quarters as well. He had been reducing his senses to the minimum in order not to be triggered by her presence lingering everywhere in the castle — the beautiful decorations that she had handpicked, the floral scent she had produced with the garden, the laughter around the castle she shared with the knights and servants.

Empty bottles and goblets were littered all over the floor with their liquids staining the carpet ominously red. Ink splotches could be observed on the walls and the spread reminisced decaying fingers of ghouls crawling out from the soil. The mess was a palette of fresh and old stains. It was a miracle the documents were untouched from the spread of deathly colours.

This is no place to open your letter.

Riftan hesitated awhile before turning back to the hallway. After a few more strides and making a turn, the man eventually reached the front of the castle's main bedchamber reluctantly.

Our bedchamber.

His hands trembled as he pulled the door handle. Riftan was afraid he could lose his mind just stepping in. A sharp pain stabbed his chest as his eyes hungrily took in the sight of the room which he had distanced himself from the past year.

Memories came rushing back as Riftan's desolate gaze landed on their bed.

It was the scene that he had clung to during his dragon expedition and fuelled his determination to return home.

You're no longer a fragment of my imagination.

Every morning before heading out, Riftan would mutter this to himself as he watched her sleep. This habit continued long after he had brought her home. It was as if the magic spell would be broken if he did not chant the miraculous phrase.

You're real.

He still remembered the sight of her beautiful mane spreading over their pillows, the scent of her sweet pale shoulder peeking out from their blanket and the rhythm of her gentle breathing as she slept deeply on their bed. She was with him, and that was what mattered.

But now...

Bending over slightly, Riftan ran his fingers through the fabrics. His vision clouded as he thought of the last few days where she slept alone in this room.

I should have said my goodbye... to hold your face tenderly in my hands and kiss you passionately before the ship took you away. I should have told you to take care and be safe. I should have promised that I'll wait for you to come home no matter how long you'd take.

Droplets of water landed on the white linen in front of him. Seeing that, a cynical laughter emerged darkly from the back of Riftan's throat. He wiped the tears off his cheeks coarsely with the back of his hand.

What's the point of being called the strongest knight when I'm so fucking stupid with goodbyes?

For every departure in his life, he had never dealt with them appropriately. Escaping was his forte and even though he had exchanged a few words with his stepfather then, it was so rough that he wished it did not happen.

He had initially wanted to adopt the same strategy with his wife. It was better to have the knights send her off instead, he thought. He was unsure if he had the self-control not to pull her back if he was there. They would be able to comfort her better than he could. But as the sun began to set, a strange realisation finally sank in him.

He ran towards the port immediately, pushing Talon to the brinks of exhaustion. Yet it was too late.

I have sworn to cherish and care for you. How can I be the very person to cause you pain? How can I lie to you?

Riftan cussed bitterly as he recalled the violent desperation that day. The sharp ache in his heart intensified. His eyes quivered as his shaking hands wandered on the bedsheets mindlessly.

Please don't hate me, Maxi...

His shoulders slumped down; exhausted from the emotional burden he had been carrying. He then placed the parcel on their bed, as if that too, added to his overwhelming pressure.

I just want to hear your voice now.

Just as Riftan was about to study the delivery, a thin red line hiding beneath the pillows caught his eyes. The man held his breath, hoping it was what he was longing for.

Is that you...?

[to be continued]