Tragic Innocence

Chapter 11: Ultimate Betrayal

            Once inside his cozy home, Mikash quickly strolled over to his bed.  He cautiously perched on it with Pentulla still coddling against him.  But was still in a spell-binding daze.  He brought her delicate chin to face him with an index finger until their eyes met.  She blinked, trying to focus on his handsome face.        Mikash reached for her hands and pressed them firmly between his.  “What is the matter?” his voice was tender and filled with worry.

            Her lips barely moved as she quietly replied, “Perhaps you should have left me there to die...”

            Mikash’s gray eyes widened with horror.  “What?  What are you talking about?”  His gaze turned away as he studied her hands sandwiched between his.  He shook his head as he could still hear Rorhk’s suave voice echoing in his tormented mind.  “No...” he whispered, caressing her face. 

            Pentulla nodded, ignoring him.  “Yes, somehow I have brought a curse to this land--the demons won’t rest until I am dead...” she spoke weakly, eyes fixed through him. 

            “Pentulla,” he shifted around beneath her as he turned her to face him.  Mikash lifted her leg and swung it over his head as he scooted her closely against his abdomen.  “It did not come for you.  I-I think it has to do with this amulet, honestly.  Only because of its strange behavior.”  He dove into the ponds of her eyes and tried to find a hint of comfort within.

            “No, Mikash.  I just know it!  It is a feeling I haven’t been able to shake ever since that one night!”  She ran her hands over his back as they traveled further up into the lush thickness of his hair.  Pentulla rested her weary head upon his shoulder as she allowed the darkness to seep into her soul.

            “Don’t say that, please.  Pentulla, it is not true.”  He pulled her closer against his aching body with great tenderness.  He cleared his throat thinking about the war again.  “Pentulla, dear.  About the Cataclysm--”

            She turned her head quickly before he could say another word and pressed a finger against his warm lips and gently shook her head.  Pentulla whispered in a soft husky tone, “Mikash, don’t.  I already know.”

            Guilt washed over him as joy infiltrated his dropping heart.  Mikash frowned his brows in confusion.  That was an odd sensation--strange, yet exhilarating.  Then it dawned on him, he was falling for her!  He had been put to the test, no thanks to Sinot, and she still cared for him.   

            Pentulla placed her head on his shoulder again and sobbed, “I am

sorry--” a hiccup rudely interrupted her, “--I just can’t help it.  I really should have died.  I am cursing the lands!”

            “Pentulla,” Mikash spoke softly into her ear, “I doubt it very much that something as lovely as you could bring such a horrible plague to the lands.”  She smiled, barely able to see him through the dimness of the chamber. 

            “It was fate for me to find you,” he finally confessed to her as well as to himself.  “I was fast asleep that morn when I felt an overwhelming pull for me to trek up there, though I had been there the day before.”  He lovingly gazed down to her profile as he slowly twined her tresses between his index finger and thumb in a languid manner.  Then he fixed his mesmerized gaze upon the still flame of the candle.  “For some mystifying reason, I had walked past my father’s marker and came upon you.”’

            Mikash then recalled the bizarre dream he had had the night before he set out for his journey to the castle.  He gestured great circles with his arms as his voice lowered timidly, “It is for a great and, as of yet, unknown purpose.”  He brought her head to his chest, her hot tears ran down his warm skin.  “I-I haven’t told you this because I didn’t know what to believe at the time.  But the night before I rescued you, I had a revelation.”