Forbidden Choices by Jen Weddle
Chapter 6
Sweat drips down my forehead hitting my lips, and the salty taste lingers in my mouth. My body feels cold and unattached and my leg has that strange numb feeling similar to when it falls asleep. I had another nightmare. I roll over and groan into my pillow.
How many nights am I going to have the same horrible dream?
It starts off with me being kidnapped and tortured by a tall figure in a mask and a cloak. Each time a knight comes bursting through the door. But he never makes it a step past before my torturer’s sword goes through his heart. He takes the long sword out from the knight, as he splutters his final words… and the whole room is a damned bloody mess.
If I was superstitious I may believe that this dream signifies something—like maybe I’m stressed or unlucky. I stretch my arms in the air and listen to the birds chirp joyfully outside my open window.
Stupid, cheerful morning people—I live for the nighttime. It’s the only time when I can escape humanity and enter a world that is my own.
I snatch the red flannel robe from my closet and drape it over myself. I look at myself in the mirror to fix a few split ends that have decided to escape I spit in my hand and rub them down. I can smell coffee… and something else: chocolate, hazelnut and vanilla.
It’s intoxicating.
I practically dash out of my bedroom and down the staircase for the kitchen as quickly as I can so early in the morning.
I stop dead in my tracks as Theo is standing there in his most glorious form—nothing but a pair of gray-striped boxers. They fit snuggly around his hips and show off his strong muscular calves. His back muscles tense up as he flips the spatula in an upward movement. My jaw drops as I watch the beads of sweat drip down his body.
A long black tattoo with an inky design stretches across the top of his back forming two scrolling patterns that eventually meet up in a spiral in the middle section.
I look down at my own morning attire. My robe hangs half off showing a bare shoulder and I know my hair is an unbelievable mess. I can’t even remember the last time I used—let alone—saw a comb for it.
He turns around and faces me with a big, cocky grin.
“Good morning sunshine.” He says.
“Mhm.” I grunt.
“You’re not impressed at my morning routine?”
“I cooked you pancakes.”
I sit down in a chair feeling suspiciously like he’s up to something. Why would he go through all this trouble? Who in their right mind would wake up earlier then they have to for breakfast?
“I’ve never met anyone who despised mornings as much as you do.” He chuckles.
Damn it, he can still read my mind.
“You think I can just turn this off… I wish.” He says grabbing a plate out of the cupboard and putting a tall stack on it for me. He hands me the maple syrup.
“You didn’t have very much to eat so I had to go grocery shopping. Hope you like them, I put a lot of love into them.”
“I’m starving actually. And these look amazing. Coffee?” I ask, staring a little too long at his abs.
“Yeah, maybe I should put a T-shirt on?” He asks pouring a cup of coffee and adding sugar cubes to it. He places the coffee in front of me and leaves the room.
The food tastes like magic; literally it tastes better than anything I’ve ever come in contact with—like it is from some strange alien planet. I inhale it within four bites and by the time Theo returns there is not a single pancake left.
“I’m sorry.” I whisper embarrassed. “It was just so good, I couldn’t stop.”
Now, I ‘m starting to regret it as my stomach churns from too much edible deliciousness.
“I may have had some help?” He says.
“Did you drug it, oh no—I’m going to be drugged aren’t I?”
I start to panic.
“No.” He laughs. “I just used an incantation to make it taste better; magic comes in handy—especially in the kitchen.”
“You had me worried for a second.” I say. “So why haven’t you solved world hunger with this magic?”
“Humans and incantations don’t really mix well, our magic can actually kill them—which is why they can’t know of our existence. It’s more harmful then helpful to them.”
“How did you know my favorite breakfast?” I ask.
“Your dad told me what it was.” He answers quickly.
“He told you that before he died? Did you two talk about me often?” I wonder.
“Not exactly.” He says looking sheepishly at me. “We can still communicate.”
“He’s dead though.” I exclaim.
“Not telepathically speaking. The King’s Advisor is given the ability to use telecommunication with those he serve so that he can know exactly what they most desire, but it’s also useful if they’re ever in danger. Like right now I can speak to him and we will be able to locate him.”
“My father must hold you in high esteem… to make you his Advisor. You have to be important people in the Kingdom… are you a knight or a Prince?” I ask curiously.
“The role of King’s Advisor is a competition. A group of the most talented students in the Kingdom is chosen, and they must compete against one another for the position. The competition is fierce and endless, but the winner gets to live and serve the Royal family until he is replaced. Your father trusts me with his life and his family’s, and that is of the utmost value to me.” He says humbly.
“Will you teach me an incantation?” I request.
“Incantations are not used as often as abilities… they have all but died out in our world, but if you’d like I can teach you a few of them.” He says exuberantly. “They were used by the Ancients before our time.”
“What’s the difference between the two?” I ponder.
“They both contain magic to some degree but abilities are a safer alternative. They take little to no magic, and they are just a part of who we are. Incantations require a much darker magic that lingers within each of us. Some incantations are so powerful and dark they can leave the user drained of his energy for days, which is why it’s so dangerous to humans. We can’t sustain some of the spells and we’re practically indestructible—imagine the frailty of the human race.” He answers knowledgably. “We need to leave soon. We must rescue your father before Mathew decides to come out of hiding and send more of his followers after us.”
I excuse myself from the table and Theo’s eyes follow me out of the room. I feel strange. I still have no idea what I am. I am not human—I know that now. But what am I?
Sweat drips down my forehead hitting my lips, and the salty taste lingers in my mouth. My body feels cold and unattached and my leg has that strange numb feeling similar to when it falls asleep. I had another nightmare. I roll over and groan into my pillow.
How many nights am I going to have the same horrible dream?
It starts off with me being kidnapped and tortured by a tall figure in a mask and a cloak. Each time a knight comes bursting through the door. But he never makes it a step past before my torturer’s sword goes through his heart. He takes the long sword out from the knight, as he splutters his final words… and the whole room is a damned bloody mess.
If I was superstitious I may believe that this dream signifies something—like maybe I’m stressed or unlucky. I stretch my arms in the air and listen to the birds chirp joyfully outside my open window.
Stupid, cheerful morning people—I live for the nighttime. It’s the only time when I can escape humanity and enter a world that is my own.
I snatch the red flannel robe from my closet and drape it over myself. I look at myself in the mirror to fix a few split ends that have decided to escape I spit in my hand and rub them down. I can smell coffee… and something else: chocolate, hazelnut and vanilla.
It’s intoxicating.
I practically dash out of my bedroom and down the staircase for the kitchen as quickly as I can so early in the morning.
I stop dead in my tracks as Theo is standing there in his most glorious form—nothing but a pair of gray-striped boxers. They fit snuggly around his hips and show off his strong muscular calves. His back muscles tense up as he flips the spatula in an upward movement. My jaw drops as I watch the beads of sweat drip down his body.
A long black tattoo with an inky design stretches across the top of his back forming two scrolling patterns that eventually meet up in a spiral in the middle section.
I look down at my own morning attire. My robe hangs half off showing a bare shoulder and I know my hair is an unbelievable mess. I can’t even remember the last time I used—let alone—saw a comb for it.
He turns around and faces me with a big, cocky grin.
“Good morning sunshine.” He says.
“Mhm.” I grunt.
“You’re not impressed at my morning routine?”
“I cooked you pancakes.”
I sit down in a chair feeling suspiciously like he’s up to something. Why would he go through all this trouble? Who in their right mind would wake up earlier then they have to for breakfast?
“I’ve never met anyone who despised mornings as much as you do.” He chuckles.
Damn it, he can still read my mind.
“You think I can just turn this off… I wish.” He says grabbing a plate out of the cupboard and putting a tall stack on it for me. He hands me the maple syrup.
“You didn’t have very much to eat so I had to go grocery shopping. Hope you like them, I put a lot of love into them.”
“I’m starving actually. And these look amazing. Coffee?” I ask, staring a little too long at his abs.
“Yeah, maybe I should put a T-shirt on?” He asks pouring a cup of coffee and adding sugar cubes to it. He places the coffee in front of me and leaves the room.
The food tastes like magic; literally it tastes better than anything I’ve ever come in contact with—like it is from some strange alien planet. I inhale it within four bites and by the time Theo returns there is not a single pancake left.
“I’m sorry.” I whisper embarrassed. “It was just so good, I couldn’t stop.”
Now, I ‘m starting to regret it as my stomach churns from too much edible deliciousness.
“I may have had some help?” He says.
“Did you drug it, oh no—I’m going to be drugged aren’t I?”
I start to panic.
“No.” He laughs. “I just used an incantation to make it taste better; magic comes in handy—especially in the kitchen.”
“You had me worried for a second.” I say. “So why haven’t you solved world hunger with this magic?”
“Humans and incantations don’t really mix well, our magic can actually kill them—which is why they can’t know of our existence. It’s more harmful then helpful to them.”
“How did you know my favorite breakfast?” I ask.
“Your dad told me what it was.” He answers quickly.
“He told you that before he died? Did you two talk about me often?” I wonder.
“Not exactly.” He says looking sheepishly at me. “We can still communicate.”
“He’s dead though.” I exclaim.
“Not telepathically speaking. The King’s Advisor is given the ability to use telecommunication with those he serve so that he can know exactly what they most desire, but it’s also useful if they’re ever in danger. Like right now I can speak to him and we will be able to locate him.”
“My father must hold you in high esteem… to make you his Advisor. You have to be important people in the Kingdom… are you a knight or a Prince?” I ask curiously.
“The role of King’s Advisor is a competition. A group of the most talented students in the Kingdom is chosen, and they must compete against one another for the position. The competition is fierce and endless, but the winner gets to live and serve the Royal family until he is replaced. Your father trusts me with his life and his family’s, and that is of the utmost value to me.” He says humbly.
“Will you teach me an incantation?” I request.
“Incantations are not used as often as abilities… they have all but died out in our world, but if you’d like I can teach you a few of them.” He says exuberantly. “They were used by the Ancients before our time.”
“What’s the difference between the two?” I ponder.
“They both contain magic to some degree but abilities are a safer alternative. They take little to no magic, and they are just a part of who we are. Incantations require a much darker magic that lingers within each of us. Some incantations are so powerful and dark they can leave the user drained of his energy for days, which is why it’s so dangerous to humans. We can’t sustain some of the spells and we’re practically indestructible—imagine the frailty of the human race.” He answers knowledgably. “We need to leave soon. We must rescue your father before Mathew decides to come out of hiding and send more of his followers after us.”
I excuse myself from the table and Theo’s eyes follow me out of the room. I feel strange. I still have no idea what I am. I am not human—I know that now. But what am I?