Elven Legacy

Chapter 103

Tessa

The crypt was getting colder. They hadn't progressed much. Frankly, she wasn't quite sure what she'd expected. Last night's optimism had stuck with her into the day, albeit only for a few hours.

To his credit, Matt appeared to throw genuine effort into their sessions. More than he had left to give, she'd wager.

They plowed through a plethora of techniques, of nuances and variations in focus. And there were moments during which Tessa slipped away from herself. She felt connected to Matt, to the fire and its shifting colors, and to the outside world, for all that she couldn't see it. Peaceful moments.

However, those didn't last long. She would inevitably slip back into reality and her aching back and knees. Her fear and frustration. Matt would look at her, his expression mirroring – she was sure – her own. Dispirited, despondent, broken. Hopeless.

No, she wasn't sure at all what she'd expected. That Mattias and herself would somehow become experts in transcendental meditation in two days' time? Please. This underground prison had, for one blissful, silly night, transformed her into some naive storybook heroine. Except in the stories, heroes beat the villain at the end.

Perhaps Tessa was the villain. Perhaps this was why she could not win. And yet, she'd found in Juna a worse monster than herself. As if her life was some karmic journey, intended to reveal that there were people out there more detestable than she, capable of hurting her. Is that supposed to make me feel better?

Only trouble was, Matt was one of the good guys. A real hero. He didn't deserve to perish down here.

And whose fault is that, do you think?

Evening had come again, or so she assumed. Time had this tendency to stretch on inside the crypt.

They'd eaten the food and drank the wine to pass the time. They had established that they'd officially run out of dusty spaces on coffin lids and floors in which to play games or draw. Matt had done his daily cleaning of the smaller chamber, even though they'd mostly spent their time in the bigger one since the start of their sessions.

Boredom could eat away at you like that. They were both going a tad insane.

At some point they tried using famous Felleran poems as mantras. They recited the lines out loud together, and with practice they got better. As if achieving perfect synchronicity would somehow bring upon them the desired transcendental state.

It didn't.

After that they used the pin of Matt's belt buckle to cut themselves. Only a small scratch across the top of their arm. They did a session like that, focusing on the physical pain.

Pointless.

Another session was devoted to thinking about demons. Tessa's mind filled with thoughts of Karma – she even told Matt about the phoenix. Her blue and black feathers, her shape-shifting abilities, and the elation Tessa had felt the first time she'd gone flying. She told Matt about Karma's quirks, her personality. And Matt listened quietly, like she didn't at all sound like an insane person. Which she appreciated.

Then Matt decided to try visualizing his ideal demon.

A wolf, he told Tessa. A big, strong, ferocious wolf that would fight by his side. Tessa smiled. The banner of the Felleran armies depicted a wolf, for the legends in which the northern warriors of ages past had fought alongside wolves. No one knew for sure whether the legends were true, but they certainly made for compelling tavern stories on cold winter nights.

When this, too, proved fruitless, they lost all patience.

And yes, evening had come again, she knew, when she heard the crypt's door creaking open.