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    Nephylim
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

City Under the Waves - 10. Chapter 10

Mererid had plenty to think about now, as they walked along the bank of the river which led to the bridge and on to the marsh. As they approached the bridge Mererid was unaccountably disappointed to see that it was empty. She had expected to see Celyn there.

 

In fact he was sitting on a bench; near the tree where they had said goodbye the previous evening. It made the whole world give a strange lurch to realise that it had only been the day before. Her heart gave a jump when she saw him as she opened her eyes to truth for the first time. He hurried forwards and took her hands.

 

“I am so sorry, Meri. I heard about Marc. I know that we… well, it was difficult but there was something... we... I feel...” He turned away, biting his lip. “I think I...” Shaking his head he looked her square in her eyes. “I was scared of him. He felt like... I felt like he was a hunter and I was his prey and,” he smiled a strange little smile, “in a way he was but... I know it seemed as if I didn’t like him; as if we were... not friends but I would never have wished this on him. I...”

 

“I know Celyn, I know you wouldn’t have.”

“Is he…? I mean how…?” His eyes were very bright and his voice trembled.

 

“We have to succeed in this Celyn, we have to. We have to release the children and then... then maybe… If we don’t…if we don’t then… he...” With a great effort of will she forced herself to look into his face. “He’s going to die, Celyn. If we don’t succeed he’s going to die.”

 

Celyn swayed as if she had hit him; his silvery green eyes wide and bright with shock. He must have know; he must have known that it was bad but to hear it. She was surprised when tears, bright a crystal, began to well up and roll down his face. Self consciously he stepped forwards and took her in his arms. She had not realised how tall he was; she only reached to his shoulder and had to look up to gaze into his face. She laughed at the incongruity of it next to the image she had burned into her mind of the two children in the castle. He tilted his head to one side in puzzlement.

 

“Don’t worry. It doesn’t matter.” Smiling up into his face she suddenly realised why he had always seemed so familiar. Apart from the eyes and hair, he looked like them. “Oh my God.”

 

“What? What is it?”

 

“Don’t you see? Can’t you see?”

 

“See what?”

 

“Look, I’ll show you.”

 

She drew him with her towards the river and, at her urgings they both knelt and looked into the water; in a place where it was still, near the bridge. Gradually the ripples settled and their faces became clear; side by side, staring down. In this dark mirror the colour of their eyes could not be seen; only the outline of them in shadow and the shape of their faces, each framed with long straight pale hair. Celyn gasped aloud.

 

“What does it mean?”

 

“Do you not know?” Gwyon asked softly. “Did you not see in the mirror?”

 

“I… yes, I think… I think maybe I did.” He looked sad; stricken even.

 

“Why do you look so sad? Isn’t it good? You will never be alone again. We have a reason now… together forever; remember?”

 

“Yes, I remember but... “ his eyes and voice were distant but he pulled himself together and smiled a bright smile at her; even though there were still tears in his eyes. “Of course it is good, of course it is.” He hugged her and held her very tightly for a time. She did not see his face and it was good that she did not. Gwyon saw it and smiled a secret smile.

 

“Come, we must hurry. There isn’t much time.”

 

“What do you mean? Why the rush? I didn’t realise there was a time a limit on this.”

 

Mererid scrambled to her feel and pulled Celyn up too, striding away even as he brushed the dirt from his jeans.


“There isn’t; not on this but there is on Marc.”

 

“Oh… Oh, I… I’m sorry… I...”

 

“Come; when this is over we can all get to know each other properly.”

 

“You will like him, I know you will, and he will like you too. He isn’t like that... not really; not when...”

 

“I know; I...”

 

“When he knows... when he knows who you are, he will love you as much as I do.” She smiled and hugged him then turned to hurry away.

 

Following a pace behind Celyn did not smile. Gwyon put a hand on his shoulder.

 

“Take heart lad. She is right; they will both love you; truly and deeply. At the moment it is as a brother but when this is done…who knows.”

 

“”I know. We may not have been born of the same parents but we are brothers nevertheless. I saw it all but I didn’t know what I was seeing. I though I saw them but saw us. It is impossible Gwyon. Whatever I may feel; it is impossible.”

 

“Nothing is impossible my friend. Am I not testament to that?”

 

Celyn smiled sadly at the bard. “Indeed you are, my friend; indeed you are.” In the bright sunlight his eyes were emerald, like a cat, and his hair was on fire. He looked exactly what he was; an ancient prince of enormous power. Gwyon felt a stab of doubt; of fear for him. When this was over how would he ever live here? He, more than any of them was a man out of his time. But he shrugged it off and simply smiled and clapped Celyn across the back; an affectionate gesture that almost knocked him off his feet.

 

When they reached the banks of the lake it was almost noon; the sun was high in the sky and the waters sparkled in the sunshine. It was very beautiful but Mererid had no time to stop and appreciate the view.

 

“What do we do?”

 

“I am not sure but, if music is the key then I suppose I should play.”

 

“Go ahead then.”

 

Gwyon slipped the harp from his back; which startled Celyn and Mererid as, until that moment it had been invisible to them.


“How… I mean where was it? How didn’t we see it?”

 

“Remember that I am of the other world, I have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

 

“And strapped across your back it would seem.”

 

“Indeed.”

 

Still smiling he ran his fingers over the strings of the harp and music rippled out over the water. For a long time nothing happened. Mererid and Celyn sat down in the cool grass as the melody washed over them; lulling them so that they almost fell asleep.

 

After a time Mererid opened her eyes. She was lying on her back in the grass. Celyn was lying next to her, his head propped up on one arm, watching her. She smiled.


“What?”

 

“Nothing, I was just looking at you and thinking.”

“What were you thinking?”

 

He smiled an infinitely sad smile and shook his head. “Just thinking how much you look like him; like us.”

 

Backed by the sun he was surrounded by a nimbus of silver fire. His eyes were dark, almost grey.

 

“I love the way your eyes change colour all the time. I never know what colour they are going to be.”

 

He looked taken aback. “You do? Most people find it freaky and they just avoid looking.”

 

“Their loss then: they are truly beautiful. I never noticed until now but they remind me of Marc’s. His change colour too, only they are amber and not green. I didn’t realise until... until today that you are both beautiful.” Celyn winced and turned his face away. Mererid misunderstood.

 

“I love the way you do that too.”

 

“What?”

 

“Blush when anyone say something nice to you.”


“No that’s... I didn’t...” He closed his eyes and shook his head. It was a relief to follow the track down which she was taking the conversation and not the one his mind had been staggering down. “Actually you are the only one who ever says anything nice about me.”

 

“Surely that can’t be true. What about your grandfather, doesn’t he say anything nice?”

 

“It isn’t his way. He isn’t really my grandfather you know.”

 

“Isn’t he? No, I didn’t know.”

 

“He has always treated me like his own but… I was already born before his son met my mother; so he wasn’t really my father, even though, after my mother died, he brought me up as though he was.”

 

“So you don’t know who your real father is?”

 

“Not a clue. I have tried to look into it but, before my mother met my father there doesn’t seem to be any record at all of her life before. My father never met any of her family, and she never spoke of who she was or where she had been before him. They were together for seven years and in all that time she never spoke to him of her life before. There was nothing to find, no trail to follow. I couldn’t find her let alone my birth father.”

 

“But… well, I suppose everyone is entitled to their privacy. She must have had her reasons. How did she die?”

 

His face went pale and his eyes shone with tears. Mererid was contrite. “I’m so sorry. That is none of my business. I’m sorry.”

 

“No, no it’s alright, truly. There was an accident. We were walking along the banks of a lake, something like this one but the banks were steeper; we were on holiday somewhere I think. I was only seven or eight. I remember it vaguely; more the feelings than the detail.

 

“A storm blew in and I remember my father shouting to her that it was time to leave. She was standing on the edge staring out over the water and her hair was blowing all around her; it was very pale. Maybe it was silver like mine, I can’t remember. I remember her just standing there, outlined against the storm with her long hair all over the place; so wild and free and beautiful. I wanted to go to her but my father held me back and he was screaming at her to come away from the edge because the wind was getting up and it was whipping at us all.

 

“It started to rain; it was really hammering down and it had got dark. We could barely see each other let alone her. And then there was this crack of thunder and a lightening flash and she was there: she turned and raised her hand and I thought she was coming back. It all went dark again and when the next flash came there was no one there.

 

“My father dove into the lake after her but he couldn’t find her. He barely came away with his life. The body was never found.”

 

Appalled by the anguish in his face and his voice Mererid reached up and laid her hand on the side of his face. “I am so sorry. That must have been terrible.” She mistook the look of pain that twisted his face for anguish at the memory. He covered her hand with his own and, squeezing it whilst giving an uncertain smile he removed it and turned his head away to look out over the water.

 

“It was, at the time: especially because my father was mad with sorrow. He was never quite the same again but for a time he was… inconsolable. He did not want anything to do with me…I suppose it was because I reminded him too much of her… and I understand it now; but at the time it was as though I had lost both of them.

 

“I came here to stay with Joe and that was the first time I encountered the prejudice and began to realise that there was something about me that was… is different to everyone else. That was the first time I began to shut myself away from the world and everyone in it; and I have stayed shut away ever since… until now.”

 

“You shouldn’t do that. Never shut yourself away from the world. If they are not ready for you it is their problem not yours. You are far too beautiful to hide.” She turned introspective and her words were uncertain. “Marc’s like that too. He hides from the world... not like you but in his books and research. Actually, if I had looked more closely I would have realised how much you remind me of him; not just in the way you look. You are both... special.” She looked sad and bit her lip, then smiled. “When it’s all over you can get to know each other properly. I know he’ll love you like a brother.”

 

He flinched as though in pain, tried to smile and rose to his feet, graceful as a dancer. Turning his back to her he walked to the edge of the water and stood looking out, his hands thrust into his pockets. Mererid was puzzled by his reaction and climbed to her feet to go after him.

 

At that moment the air over the lake began to shimmer, like a heat haze but thicker. It rose higher and higher and formed itself into a roughly conical shape, getting more and more solid with every moment they watched. Gradually colour leaked in and, within a few minutes there was a mountain rising from the centre of the lake; a mountain crowned with fire.

 

“Bloody hell… Bloody hell, it worked.”

 

“How do we get to it?”

 

“There.” Gwyon pointed a little way along the shoreline where a smudge of colour turned out to be a small, bright red, rowing boat.

 

With Gwyon’s powerful arms making light work of the rowing they were soon touching the far bank. No one and nothing had tried to stop them; the surface of the lake had barely rippled the whole way. The slopes of the mountain here were gentle and grassy so it was no hardship to jump into the shallow water and pull the boat up onto the grass.

 

After they had finished they set their sights on the slopes of the mountain. They were gentle to begin with but it was clear that, higher up, they became rocky and steep.


“Maybe we should walk around the shore for a bit and see if there is an easier way up.”

 

They did so and soon came to a place where there was a jetty jutting out into the lake and a path wound up the side of the mountain, becoming a broad road before it reached the castle.

 

“I thought I remembered a road. I am glad that it is still here; these old bones did not relish rock climbing.”

 

They were in good spirits as they launched themselves on their journey along the path. They were so intent on their goal that, at first they did not notice the dark figure lounging in the shade of a tree at the side of the path. As they approached the shadow detached itself and they all started and stared, in shock.

 

Mererid felt as though someone had reached into her chest and pulled out her heart. She was frozen and could not have moved for any reason. Shaking she stared at the figure through a shimmering haze of tears. A strong arm settled across her shoulders and pulled her against a warm body. She looked up. Celyn’s face was as shocked as she was but he managed an encouraging smile.

 

“Well, are you going to just stand there all day? I already thought you weren’t coming. I have been waiting for ages.”

 

At the sound of his voice something inside Mererid snapped and overflowed and, breaking free of Celyn’s embrace she ran to him and threw her arms around him.

 

“Marc, is it you? Is it really you? Please tell me I’m not dreaming.”

 

“Well... it’s me but, as for the dreaming…”

 

It was as it always had been. Her head on his shoulder; his arms around her; the steady beat of his heart. Breaking away she looked up into his face and he smiled at her; the same old smile.

 

“But… I don’t understand. How…? I mean what happened? How did you get here? Does this mean...? I mean are you alright now?”

 

His face turned sad and the sparkle faded from his eyes. Slowly he shook his head, dropping his gaze. Then he raised his head and looked her in the eye. “I’m sorry Meri; I truly, truly am. Sorry for everything; everything that’s been and everything to come. It would be easy to say that it wasn’t me; that I was under Her control and I couldn’t help myself; but it was me…it is me. I could have made different choices, I could have walked away. But…

 

“She’s still there Meri, in my head, with her hand around my heart. She still wants me to…” He winced and momentarily closed his eyes stiffening, then he relaxed with a sigh. “Well I can’t actually talk about that but...” He sighed again. “This might be my last day with you. I don’t want to spoil it but… you can’t trust me Meri; you mustn’t rely on me and you mustn’t trust me.” He grunted as another stab of pain reminded him that this was not the way it was supposed to go.

 

“Is she hurting you?”

 

“You better believe it. Still…“ He shrugged, looking helpless.

 

“But I still don’t understand. How are you here?”

 

“Do you think that any of you are here…really here?” He shook his head. “This place doesn’t exist, in any real sense, any more. I think you will find that your bodies are still sitting on the shore of the lake staring out with stupid expressions on your faces. Mine…” He shrugged, “Well you know where mine is.”

 

“So none of this is real?”

“Oh yes; it’s real. It’s just a different kind of real.”

 

“And what happens if things go wrong here? If we fail here? What will happen back there?”

 

With steady eyes he stared deeply into hers, his face sad and unsmiling. “I don’t know. I don’t know how it works. I don’t know if… if I die if we succeed… or if we fail. I just don’t know.” Taking a deep breath he made an attempt at a smile. “So, like I said…we have a day; less than a day. We just have to do what we believe we have to do.”

“And what if it all goes wrong? What if we make the wrong choices?”

 

“Meri; don’t. You know what the answer is; you don’t need me to tell you and it... it hurts too much.”

 

“I don’t think I can bear it. This is too cruel. After everything that’s happened: to be here with you now and to know... to know that somewhere else...”

 

“Meri, listen to me. You can’t do this to yourself. We are here; now. I am here. We have something to do and we have to do it. When it is done… well; we’ll deal with the consequences when they come; whatever they might be.”

 

“How can you be so brave? After everything that happened, knowing that…”

 

“I’m not brave; not in the slightest. I’m scared Meri; more scared than you can imagine. Do you think I want to die? Part of me is still there; at the hospital and I can hear them. I try not to but sometimes, when it is quiet… Mam’s there; she’s crying. I have never seen her cry; not like this. Dad’s flying back from Stockholm; he is on a plane as we speak, and how often has that happened? Never.

 

“And they are doing it because of me. Not for me, you understand; they aren’t coming to be there for me… they are coming for themselves. Just like they always do everything for themselves. They are coming to ease their guilt because this happened when they weren’t here. They are coming because…” he was shaking, tears brimming in his eyes. Mererid tried to hush him but he shook his head and pressed on; the bitterness which had crept into his voice dropping away to be replaced by a bleak hopelessness.

 

“I am dying Meri; right now, as we speak; slipping away and there is nothing I can do; nothing to fight, for or with. I can feel them now, with part of me; Mam and Grandma, holding my hands, talking to me, begging, crying. But it is only a very small part of me and it’s fading. This is what’s real to me. Soon this will be all that is real to me… and then… and then…” Faltering he lowered his head and closed his eyes: when he raised them again they were bright with the tears that flowed unchecked down his cheeks.

 

“I’m so frightened. It’s all so weird. I know that I am dying; I can feel my heart failing, but it is so far away. Here I am as I always was; strong and… and… I can’t… I don’t want to die. I don’t want to leave you; I don’t want to…” His eyes flicked up and caught Celyn’s which widened with surprise at the unexpected expression they held. He didn’t feel like prey any more; he felt like... “I… I just don’t want to die; and I don’t know what to do to stop it.” Lowering his head to her shoulder she held him as his body shook with sobs. There was nothing she could say.

 

Only dimly aware of their approach she was grateful for the arms that Gwyon and Celyn laid across her shoulder; and Marc’s too. He looked up startled to find Celyn looking at him with such compassion that his heart leaped into his throat. He was suddenly frightened for a completely different reason.

 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked, his voice shaking; afraid of the answer but longing for it at the same time.

 

“Like what?” Celyn’s voice was husky; his eyes uncertain.

 

“Like you care,” he whispered and they stared at each other across a space that crackled. Then Celyn winced and shook his head, turning his eyes away.

 

“Should I not care for you brother?”

 

Marc’s eyes widened. “You know then?”

 

“Is that such a surprise to you?”

 

For a moment the amber eyes; brightened by tears, looked shocked; confused; raw with pain; but suddenly he smiled and Celyn was stunned by the beauty he had so entirely failed to see before. Breathless he ran his tongue over parched lips. Marc stared at it, shivering, then turned away.

 

“No; not such a surprise at all. Well, at least I won’t have to worry now… about you making moves on my sister.”

 

He carefully noted the look that passed over Celyn’s face and he shivered again. “No, not her,” Celyn said softly and a slow smile crept over his face that Marc had no choice but to mirror. Mererid watched them a confused look on her face. Gwyon was smiling.

 

“We had better go. As much as I would like to stay here with you all day; this has to be finished one way or another soon. I don’t have much time.”

 

They walked on, up the dusty road. Mererid walked close to her brother, her arm around his waist. She could not bear to let go, afraid that if she did he would slip away from her and be gone for ever. His hand gripped her shoulder for very much the same reason.

Copyright © 2012 Nephylim; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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