Page 24 of Dark as the Cursed Abyss

And then there was nothing but an ache in Farah’s chest and a black hole where love had once been kept locked in her mind. The beginning of their story was missing.

Chloe laid her hand on Farah’s arm and electricity shot through her veins. “It is alright, you are alright. We will make it through this.”

Recoiling, Farah took another reluctant step, preparing herself for whatever hope or misery the river might take next.

Across the taverna, a woman danced, her hair free and wild. She swayed with the music as if they were one and the same. Every note matched every step she took, spinning around with fire and passion Chloe had never seen. It was exquisite. She was exquisite. Every curve of her body as it moved, the unbridled smile that lit her features, the ease in which she tossed back her head in laughter.

Farah paused, looking back at Chloe with curiosity. She recognized that taverna, the music that was playing, the outfit the woman wore. It was many years ago in Xanthia, before she was a spy. Before her father took everything from her.

“You were there?” she asked between shallow breaths.

Chloe cocked her head to the side. “I was where?”

It was too late, the river had claimed its second memory.

“Nothing. Let’s just keep moving.”

The pathway began to narrow as they worked their way to the middle, the river only collecting small memories after the first ones, nothing of importance from their youth. But as they crossed the half way point a scream ripped through the cavern, one that Farah remembered all too well.

“Celene!” she screamed into the night, twisting left and right to see where it came from.

“Farah! Do not leave me! Your father lied!” Celene’s voice filled the air around Farah once more and when Farah turned back toward the start of the path, there she stood. Not a vision in the water, but dressed in the robes of an acolyte, her hood down revealing that sparkling blonde hair and the eyes she had sunk into so many times before. “Do not continue with her! You do not love her, you love me. Go through the trials with me. With her you will fail, but together we could conquer the Mysteries.”

“Ce-Celene? Is it really you?” The world around Farah spun.

“It is, my love. We can be together now.”

Farah began to run back toward the entrance of the river with a speed she had never known. So focused on Celene waiting for her at the end, she didn’t notice that the pathway had split until two hands grabbed her backward just before her feet met nothing but air and the river below.

“It is not real!” Chloe yelled, her chest heaving into Farah’s back with every heavy breath she took. “It is not real,” she repeated, this time soft as a whisper, with less ferocity. “It is only the river trying to claim you. It is not real.”

Tears welled in Farah’s eyes, pouring out without thought. Celene’s voice, her hair, her eyes, her smile. None of it was real. It hadn’t been in quite some time.

“It isn’t real,” Farah whispered back.

“I am so sorry.” Chloe held her for a moment and Farah felt some of the pain dissipate under her touch.

It would be so easy to break, to lean into the woman behind her and bare herself wholly. To scream out every piece of her soul for the river to claim so she no longer had to remember.

“We should keep going. It won’t be much longer. There’s only one last thing the river has to take from me.”

Releasing herself from Chloe’s arms, she headed toward the farthest end of the pathway across, allowing the mental thread between the river and her mind to flow with ease.

“Let me forget,” she begged the river. “Let me forget all of it.”

The hall was filled with members of the court, all dressed in Morentian black. The men wore masks that extended out like crows while the women shielded their eyes with lace veils. In the center of the room, hands and feet bound with thick rope, knelt the beautiful blonde. Dirt swirled on her face, stained by the tears that poured from her eyes.

In the corner, Farah was held back by her father’s personal guard, but even he could not cover her mouth enough to muffle the screams.

“She didn’t do it, Father! You know she didn’t do it!”

Khalid approached the woman, his poison-laced blade held firm in his hand.

“Celene Devereux, you kneel before me being charged with theft from the royal house. After much deliberation in my court, we have found you guilty of this crime and you will be sentenced to death.”

“She has stolen nothing, Father!” Farah screamed once more. “Do not do this! I beg you! I will listen to you! I will do anything! Just please don’t kill her!

But Khalid Athanas paid no mind to his daughter’s pleas. Instead, he lifted his blade and drove it straight through the accused’s neck. When Celene’s head finally rolled from her body, the guard let Farah go.