Inheritance

Chapter 26: The Scars of Time

Your life is tied to mine. Eory's voice resounded in Pollyanna's mind as she looked into the mirror that night. The king had not received them, but Kori had come to get them earlier that day and had graciously shown them to the rooms they would be sleeping in within the Great Hall.

Pollyanna had just taken a bath, and human servants had laid out a simple dress for her to wear to the ball tomorrow.

Within her naked reflection, Pollyanna was greeted by the sight of dozens of ugly scars. Immortal or no, scars were things that never healed.

She was also greeted by the sight of her unsightly breasts, deep wrinkles and thick, gray hair. Pollyanna reflected on her life as she looked at those scars. She grinned fiercely at one she had gotten from dueling a dragon who had come looking for food in Maribel. The Arrozans called upon Pollyanna to go kill the dragon by herself because they didn't want to waste the lives of any soldiers. Pollyanna had dueled that dragon for almost a whole day and was panting and scuffed up at the end like she had never been before in her life, but she still managed to kill the dragon. The Arrozans and humans--nobles and peasants alike--had cheered her name, given her presents, and wrote down poems of her magnificent battle with the dead dragon, Pharos.

Her eyes then drifted to a scar that crept over her right shoulder. She frowned deeply. That memory wasn't her favorite.

Fjorn had a knife in his hand and he yanked her hair roughly toward him as she tried to run away. His voice cut through her mind clear as day as he dragged the knife up her back and to the front of her body.

"You picked this life." He had said.

Pollyanna sunk to the floor with her shoulders slumped and promised herself she wouldn't cry. For a moment, she thought a miserable and disgusting thought; if this brat gets me killed tomorrow, will all these scars have been worth it?

Long ago, Pollyanna had pledged to herself she would never have any regrets about her decision, and that she would never wallow in self pity if she could help it.

I can't have doubts now. I just have to keep the brat safe.

Pollyanna lived a hectic and exciting life, and she didn't want it to come to an end at the behest of a foolish eighteen-year-old who knew nothing of the world and who would never understand that being kind in life would get him nowhere.

She wondered why young people were always so idealistic.

She remembered a time when she, herself, was that idealistic. She had always wanted to be a grand warrior, but it wasn't just that... When she was younger, she also had an additional dream of wanting to be a hero. Back then, she thought she could always kill for the right reasons, and she thought that being kind, just, and honorable was its own reward, but now she knew the truth.

There was no logic to being kind, there was no reason to be a hero, and the only thing she had ever gotten for trying to be was heart ache and ugly scars.

You're my hero... Eory had said.

She had laughed, but deep down, the sentence had warmed her heart and brought up memories that she had buried.

She thought of his sweet face while he slept and could feel her heart beat a little faster.

His skin looked soft and scarless, his face was bright and fresh, and his morals were unrealistic and un-besmirched by the scars of time.

She fought conflicting feelings about him. He was a fool and a sniveling coward, but he was also bizarrely kind and good-hearted despite being an Arrozan.

Pollyanna loved the Arrozans because they lived by the simple laws of nature that the weak should be devoured as should anyone who stood against them. There was an honesty, ease, and simplicity to living that way that she clung to.

Pollyanna and the Arrozans never felt need to cater to any peasants or nobles they felt were out of line. She was never sent on any missions to slay wolves who were eating a farmer's sheeps, or sent to settle any disputes in any cities or towns in a civil manner. Instead, she was given permission to let the farmer figure out how to defend his own flock of sheep and was allowed to use force to placate any rambunctious members of the kingdom having a dispute.

She decided she didn't like the idea of protecting someone who would always be offended by her lack of morals.

Living by a moral code was useless and complicated. Living by the Arrozan code was simple, empowering, and got her where she wanted to be in life.

"Do you want to live forever? Do you want power? Do you want to cast aside all that doubt that weighs heavily upon your fragile mind? Then the answer is simple. Just be mine. You will have everything you want." Fjorn had suggested so long ago.

"I want power. I want to be yours." Pollyanna had agreed without hesitation.

"Then your life will be woven with that of my family and you will protect them for eternity. If my family line is ever extinguished, you will be, too, my darling." Fjorn had forewarned her with a smile.

Pollyanna didn't care and she wasn't listening. She kissed him and let impulse drive her as she did from that moment on.

And then Pollyanna clenched her fists at the memory of her own failure.

Eory's family was beheaded, and she had failed the job she had always had the most pride in doing for the family who had given her a life and a name.

If there was one thing she despised, it was failure.