Tales of Jollieus

Story 2 - The Fire of Revolution

The room was silent but the world outside was much too loud. Not a single word left the lips of Geranium. Her hands were grasped together, adrift not knowing what to do with them as she stared, thoughtfully, at the worn wooden floor. Her back was straightened, unlike her bitterly tangled mind, as she was unwilling to give up her composed demeanor to her melancholy thoughts. "Not even for the jester should a revolution be a laughing matter." the tiefling considered.

She stood up, walking solemnly to trace her gaze through the window at the surrounding sight of what looked mostly to be splattered red.

The red of rage, blood, and chaos.

"I couldn't say that I didn't see this coming." she hummed observantly.

Striding over to the door, she carefully twisted the handle, slipping through then closing it as silent as a whisper. The hallway was wintry, as if it wasn't already spring. Even with the day's light through the window, it was little as weeping, blue-grey clouds shrouded the sky. Walking down stairs, to the blatant, almost inappropriate, jingle of the bells upon her neck, she suddenly stopped. Goosebumps formed upon her purple skin, the castle was cold before but now as frozen as a crypt. A haunted expression chilled her face, as if a ghost had just passed through her. Two nurses stood down the hall, faces grim and colour taken from them. No words were needed for Geranium to understand.

The air in her lungs was lightly stuck, unwilling to come out, as she raced across the halls and crashed through the brown wooden door. "Hortensia!" she called.

Weakly shooting her a smile, the king lay on a bed wet with red. "The wound is deep, we can't stop the bleeding on the inside. I've done what I can." the nurse, an old woman with a weathered face which told her she had seen a lot and seen enough, said. As the nurse left the room, she shut the door gently behind her.

Hortensia grabbed her hand as she leaned down to listen to him. He locked his eye with intention to hers. His pupil was engulfed by the void which was the darkness of his iris. Now was not the time to get lost in the abyss, but Gernium's disturbed golden eyes could not look away.

"I might not make it."

She gripped tighter.

"Don't say that, not yet."

"They've tried everything."

"Have they?"

"The best of what we have. The herbs numb the pain, I can't imagine how much worse it would be without them."

The tiefling was silent for a moment, weighing the consequences of what she wanted to say and what she could get away with.

"Have they tried... magic?"

"That's out of the question."

"So this is how you want it to end, Hortensia?" Her utterance was slow and lost.

Suddenly, a burst of pain ignited from his wounded body as his chill grew and senses numbed. Hastily, Geranium whispered to him using healing words "No, this isn't it! Not yet, please."

Slowly yet surely, his skin began to pinken once again. Feebly, he whispered back to her with a slight grin "I'll let it slide this once."

Sighing as her soul almost left her body, the jester slumped down next to the bed.

"You gave me a heart attack."

"You have a heart?"

"Oi, you." she playfully slapped his arm.

"Careful, I'm a dying man here."

"What even happened? You should have stayed within the castle."

"I did, but they snuck in through the back."

"How?"

"A spy, maybe a leak."

Geranium found herself unable to look back into his eye.

"Well, at least you're alive."

"And I still have my other eye!"