The Taming

Statue of Gold

WhiteHall, Harridan Hamlet, Paladines (Lost for twenty years)

RAESE

Raese Whiting had torn apart every library in the Paladines, in an effort to fill in the gaps in his memory. He was frustrated with the not knowing.

The places I don't understand.

The questions I have no answers for.

His mind before he'd arrived in Harridan Hamlet had been a blank slate.

From what he knew his best friend had found him wandering the road naked, muddy, and bloody.

But no one knows why.

But Raese had seen something, some strange kind of a dream that haunted his mind's eye his every waking moment. A presence that was always with him, but just out of reach, had indicated that there was a book he had to find.

Something I have to read.

But where?

He was searching for a staff. One he'd once wielded as the most powerful weapon in all existence. That was what the book she'd pulled from a shelf for him to read had shown him.

He had reason to believe that the gorgeous spirit which haunted his sleep and tormented the hours just between sleep and waking, was his woman once.

And now he wanted her back.

I can bring her back to me, if I can find it. That had been what was motivating him to press on. Library after library. Making introductions to all manner of boring people to gain access to their expansive libraries.

Still, he hadn't managed to find the thing.

The book she'd given him, seemed to be the only one that spoke of creatures like him. When he'd read it, it'd felt familiar. And when he found mention of the magic wielder that had ventured from the UpperLands and into Ardae, he'd felt the connection. He'd seen hints of images that led him to believe, that man was him.

I have his memories.

It was a conviction that ran so deep, he couldn't persuade himself it was his imagination.

So he'd begun the mission to find out more.

The book he'd read, had mentioned the captain that led their army.

Captain. That word felt old, familiar on his tongue and it conjured an imposing presence and a need to obey, despite the fact that Raese couldn't draw a picture of a face, which matched that feeling.

Raese had been on the search for the oldest books in Ardae. Hoping that if he found one name that felt familiar, it might give him a hint of what he was and where he'd been.

And more importantly, who she is.

"I hate this." He paced the opulent pearl and green of his library. Usually the colors helped to soothe his soul, but today their peaceful exterior only mocked his aggravation. "Why is it so hard to find anything?"

Why can't I just remember? He clenched his fist in frustration, storming to the mantle where he tossed a decanter against a far wall. Feeling a glimmer of satisfaction when it shattered. Breaking something made him feel like he wasn't in pieces himself.

"There's nothing here." He shouted. "Not one of these books tells me about you. I need a bridge to get to you." He shouted to her. Uncaring that he probably woke every servant in WhiteHall.

His desolation only grew, when she didn't appear to offer her usual cold comfort. Though he could feel her here.

Like she's just out of sight.

Frustrated beyond what he could endure, he stormed from the library. Slamming the door behind him and heading upstairs to his chamber.

If she won't come to me in my waking hours, I'll search for her in my sleeping ones.

He was utterly unaware of the clear haze trembling next to the fire. Kneeling over the pieces of glass and desperately sweeping at them in an effort to manifest a physical enough presence to be able to reach him. Her sobs were soundless. Her haze only barely disrupted the light of the fireplace as she stood and walked past it to try and find her way upstairs.

***

Had Raese been more patient, he might've appreciated how fast it happened. His head had no more than hit his feathered pillow and he was transported somewhere else.

A place where he was surrounded by chirping birds lurking high in Feglen Forest's towering trees. Where the noises of a drizzling creek close by filled his ears. He even caught the sounds of the occasional pebble puttering through the water.

He found himself positioned cozily on a grassy mound. Whiffing the aroma of meat cooking on the spit he turned over a small fire.

His lover sat across from him on the grass. Leaned back on her palms, unknowingly causing small pert breasts to jut. Luxurious black curls of hair folded along the grass. A few strands had even been pinned on the ground under her hip. Her crossed ankles peeked from beneath the bottom of her skirt. Resting next to him. His free hand lightly rested on the toe of her leather shoe. Squeezing it methodically to relax her as she chatted happily.

They were engaged in friendly chatter. Getting to know each other more intimately.

"What's your biggest oddity?" She asked.

"I've never been in love before." He blurted. Hoping she wouldn't catch the connotation behind his answer.

Her eyes flicked to him before she focused on the meat rotating over the orange flame, in the faded light.

"Have you loved someone before?" He queried as he shifted to adjust the stick through the bit of meat.

She paused a long while before shifting onto her elbows. "I think I did. Perhaps I still, even now, harbor deeper feelings for him than I'd like."

Ouch.

"Still?" He felt his chest tighten.

She nodded with a sorrowful smile.

"A former husband?" His heart dropped a bit.

"No." She laughed. "A far cry from. He'll never be anyone's husband, I think." She shook her head adamantly. "He'd have none of me."

"I find that hard to believe."

"Do not. He's a fickle man. Women fall at his feet."

That thought slowed his movements making his gaze focus fully on her as a heavy sense of recognition was settling in him.

"What kind of a man is so cruel?" His tone hardened. A muscle in his jaw ticked.

"He isn't cruel at all, Raese. I'm very close with him. But he no longer visits. Though I know not why..."

Raese gave her a sideways glance.

"He said it'd be better if I didn't mention him to you."

"Oh, did he?" Raese felt his voice become bitter. "Well, what's this mystery man like then?"

"He's tall, and warm. Wheat-haired. He looks like something unearthen when he stands in sunlight. Like a statue of gold." Her tone softened and she got a far away, dreamy look. "So...Stunning. You can hardly keep your fingertips from reaching out to touch him..."

Raese'steeth gnashed.

Nooooo.

"You have touched him then?" His voice was tense as he swallowed the lump tightening his throat.

"No." She shook her head with that self-mocking smile. "He'd never let me close enough. He'd always catch my hands and push them away. Telling me if I didn't stop, he'd leave."

"So, what did you do?"

"I would stop. Because I didn't want him to go. We talked often, sometimes until late into the night." She sighed wistfully. "I can't even describe the lure he has for a woman. Any woman, probably."

Those words were like a lead weight falling through him. His eyes narrowed and he sat bolt upright.

"Sebastian!" He roared.