Chapter 10: The Song...

Chapter 10: The Song…

One hour before Cassidy struck down Amandaryla, Isador was sitting on a fallen mossy log in a glade in the moonlit night, with Crisis curled around the clearing. The fairy brethren idled about chatting as Isador recovered the last of his strength, the natural healing qualities of the ground rejuvenating him even as he lay there thinking.

He glanced over at Crisis, his heart fluttering slightly. He felt very strongly about Crisis now, after having his very life saved by her on more than one occasion, his loyalty to her was almost absolute. His old clothes had been mostly dissolved by the Dryad’s stomach, and Melany had taken great personal interest in seeing to it that his clothes were replaced as quickly as possible. She decided that the best way to do this was to tear off what little remained of his old clothes, toss them aside to be claimed by the ground, and dress him in new clothes.

He had agreed that it was a good idea, but before he had a chance to inquire as to what new garments he would be wearing, Melany simply placed one hand on his collar, squeezed the material in her hand and in one sharp tug had ripped it clean off. She had then proceeded to spend the next five minutes giggling as Isador had gone bright red and tried to avoid facing her, his hands clasped over his privates. However this was no good, as every time his back was facing Melany, she would jab him with a long stick she had picked up off the ground. After a very short time Isador had become fed up and asked if she was going to get him the spare clothes. She then replied with a wicked grin that they hadn’t any spare clothes and he was just going to have to make do with what he had till they had found some spares for him.

Suffice to say, Isador felt very uncomfortable about this for the first few minutes, until it dawned on him that in reality - only the humans of Felarya seemed to actually wear clothes, the rest of them had no need for them because they were much closer to nature. And although after this revelation he still desired to have a new set of clothes, he felt less awkward about his exposure to the elements, primarily because none of the fairies or Crisis seemed to care - except Melany, who could see through him like a glass of water and took great delight in trying to get the most out of his bodily functions.

An hour later however, Crisis had returned from her hunting expedition for Drayla. Carrying with her a stack of clothes which she blushingly presented to Isador in recompense for almost getting him digested. Isador thanked her kindly and even went so far as to kiss her pinkie finger. He then took the clothes away and sorted them into four piles: Too large, too small, wrong gender, and just right.

When he returned to the glade to converse with the rest of the group, he was clad in of all things a suit of brown padded leather with knee high black boots and a hood which was tucked around his shoulders. His theory was that against the larger predators of Felarya, his best defence was camouflage. He knew how silly this theory was considering he was wearing the clothes of someone who had been caught and eaten by one of those larger predators, but as Crisis had explained to him already, Naga’s had supernatural senses. Perhaps not all predators had them…

And so there he sat. His heart was heavy with worry but filled relief at being alive.
Crisis’s eyes were closed, but her mind was full of Isador. Her sense of relief was almost as high as his at his rescue. She knew how awful she would have felt allowing one of her new friends to go to their death so early in the friendship, and her heart beat slowly knowing he was safe. For although her bright blue eyes were shut, her senses and mind could see him perfectly seated on the log, drawing a smile across her face.

What Isador found most interesting at the moment was how little he felt sexually towards many of his hosts. He mused to himself at the peculiarities of the atmosphere of Felarya. Here he was, barely several feet away from a pair of breasts that could effortlessly crush a horse drawn carriage, and yet he felt nothing. He supposed it was the natural energy that all the creatures of Felarya exuded. Back home, it was seen as normal for a woman to be clad in a dress, coat, corset, undershirt, skirt and a whole range of formal elements… Here, the natural thing was not to cover up. After all, who were they trying to impress? And the fact that it didn’t seem forbidden made Isador feel more at ease.

The only exception to this rule he found was Melany, who never failed to turn his face red with her flirtatious gestures and speech. At one point she had even presented him with a gift which she claimed was used to clean the wax from your ears, but which looked to Isador suspiciously like a miniature fairy net.

However right now, everything felt good with Isador…

“Isador?” came Crisis’s voice from his right.

He turned to face her and smiled.

“Yes Crisis?”

“What are you thinking about?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Nothing really, mostly just about everything that has happened to me in the past few days… it’s all so incredible. Even now, after all this, I still expect to wake up in my bed and find out I’ve dreamt the whole thing… and you know what?”

“What?”

“I would hate that… because it would mean that I’d never met you. That you weren’t real… and that’s something I don’t think I’d ever get over.”

Crisis’s eyes flicked open and focused on him, her face flushing scarlet and the grin on her mouth growing wider.

“I’ve grown so attached to you over the past couple of days… I couldn’t bear being apart from you and this world now. I’ve nearly been eaten by you, I WAS eaten by a Dryad, I was nearly savaged by a wolf that turned out to be a black entity, and I was almost murdered by the Inquisition… but yet despite all that I still prefer it in Felarya. This world is so much better than the one I left behind…”

Crisis smiled and reached out with a finger, pressing it lightly across Isador’s knees.

“You’re adorable. I’m so glad I didn’t eat you…”

There was a pause before Isador chuckled.

“Now there’s a sentence that I don’t think would ever come up in my world.” He laughed heartily for the first time in he couldn’t remember when. And what a morbid humour it was after his experience in the Dryad’s stomach.

“Crisis, if there’s ever anything I can do you repay you, let me know… I don’t know how I could possibly -” But she interrupted him with a very odd request.

“Sing for me.”

“… sing?”

“Yes.”

“Anything?”

“Yes.”

Isador was genuinely stunned, wondering what he could possibly sing… singing came naturally to him and his people, but he couldn’t help but wonder what song would flow best from his heart at the moment…

He stood and felt quite foolish as he stood pondering, the rest of the clearing having gone silent waiting for him to begin.

Eventually, the idea struck him, and his lips parted…

We used to swim the same moonlight waters
Oceans away from the wakeful day

My fall will be for you
My love will be in you
If you be the one to cut me
I`ll bleed forever

Scent of the sea before the waking of the world
Brings me to thee
Into the blue memory

My fall will be for you
My love will be in you
If you be the one to cut me
I will bleed forever

Into the blue memory

A siren from the deep came to me
Sang my name my longing
Still I write my songs about that dream of mine
Worth everything I may ever be

The Child will be born again
That siren carried him to me
First of them true loves
Singing on the shoulders of an angel
Without care for love n` loss

Bring me home or leave me be
My love in the dark heart of the night
I have lost the path before me
The one behind will lead me

Take me
Cure me
Kill me
Bring me home
Every way
Every day
Just another loop in the hangman`s noose

Take me, cure me, kill me, bring me home
Every way, every day
I keep on watching us sleep

Relive the old sin of Adam and Eve
Of you and me
Forgive the adoring beast

Redeem me into childhood
Show me myself without the shell
Like the advent of May
I`ll be there when you say
Time to never hold our love

My fall will be for you
My love will be in you
You were the one to cut me
So I`ll bleed forever

The song ended and he hung his head, sitting back on the log, silence filling the glade once more.

Crisis tilted her head.

“That was beautiful… what’s it called?”

“I can’t recall the name of the song… all I can tell you is that it was by a group called Nightwish.”

Isador looked around to see that many of the inhabitants were drifting off to sleep, and he decided that he might try to join them.

Crisis closed her eyes once again and sung softly to herself…

“If you be the one to cut me… I’ll bleed forever.”

Slowly her mind began to drift… sink…

…

…

…

And was jerked sharply back by the dying cries of a burning Dryad…