Neverquest – Part 153

Characters: Countess Olivia, Rebecca
Location: The dining hall in the House of Sienna, Haledon
Time: Day 5 – Afternoon

Many miles south of the city of Felwinter, where mountains reigned the sky and valleys sank forever into the earth before them, there was a town older than the land and kingdom it belonged to. The town of Haledon. Built centuries before Sorena was brought under the one sun, it had witnessed every war of Man and Womankind and outlasted their armies and their gods. Like the moon, it would watch, a silent player from above, a voyeur in this lucid dream, counting away the sands of life as strife became the hand of justice and voracity its accomplice. There was a land like this, one that had survived time, to tell its story in stone.

In Haledon, there was the last castle surrounded by a moat. Its water came from the sea and glittered so bright that it sometimes seemed the castle was afloat, sailing away across the great earth and then into the sky. There were only two turrets standing, aged and crumbling like the downward face of a mountain, but they guarded the fortress with their life. They knew they weren’t protecting riches; there was something much more important inside.

Outside the castle walls, waves of vineyards and cottages that looked like summer boats painted the landscape. Green was the only horizon. Forgotten in time, Haledon stood, small as it was, in a world still woven in chaos, ever watching and ever hopeful. In Haledon, the Women wore white and skin and thought little of the conflicts that had taken over their sisters. They were away. They were free.

In Haledon, there was peace.

The doors to the dining hall burst open.

“Where is he!?”

Humming softly, Olivia’s mother continued to cut into the lobster on her plate. She acknowledged her daughter’s appearance with a smile.

“The day is half gone,” she answered. “These hours you keep are not good for your skin, Olivia.”

The countess stood in the doorway, her hair strewn across her face like curls from a nightmare.

“…I command you all to leave me with my mother.”

There were at least fifteen mistresses and maids who quickly surrendered their seats. They hurried past Olivia, who didn’t budge for one of them, until only her mother was left at the head of the table. Surrounded by huge platters of roasted turkey and fish, lobster and fresh strawberries, loaves of garlic bread and a rather large cheese wheel with a knife already cut into it, she smiled again and reached for a silk napkin.

“Surely you don’t expect me to eat all this alone,” she said.

Olivia’s eyes were so cold that frost seemed to form on the tips of her hair. “…What did you do with him, mother?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, dear.”

“You know damn well what I’m talking about, Rebecca.”

Her mother dabbed her lips with the napkin. “Rebecca? From the servants, it sounds nice, but that’s their thing. Addressing me by my first name just doesn’t suit you.”

“Then let me remind me who you are addressing.” Olivia slammed the doors shut, causing the glass chandelier over their heads to shake. “I am not your daughter. I am Countess Olivia of the House of Sienna and the second in line for the throne. It’s not a title I asked for or even want, but it does mean I am entitled to some answers and some rights.”

“Of course, my dear, but you can be both countess and my daughter.”

“Ask me which one I would pick if I had to choose.”

“Olivia!”

“Or answer my question and then ask me.”

Nodding, Rebecca picked up her fork. “First, you’ll have to be a little more specific. Where is who?”

“Kadaj, mother.” With a violent flick of her wrist, Olivia hurled her tiara into the air. It flew across the table and landed on Rebecca’s plate, on top of the lobster, and wobbled for a moment. “Where is my Kadaj?”

“This ‘Kadaj’ again…”

“Answer me.”

Rebecca touched her finger to the small ruby on the tiara’s face. “It really is a beautiful piece… I remember when it used to fit my head.”

“Mother… I will see you locked away for life if I find out you did anything to harm Kadaj.”

“Does family mean so little to you, dear?”

“Kadaj is more family to me than you’ve ever been!”

“Olivia…” Setting down her fork, Rebecca picked up the tiara in both hands and rose from her seat. “I know you don’t mean the things you say. You’re not well.”

“What!?”

“These…these moods of yours.” With the gentleness of any mother, Rebecca walked up to Olivia from behind, combing back her daughter’s hair, and replaced the tiara to its rightful spot. “You get so…angry sometimes. Like you’re mad at the world.”

“I’m only mad at you.”

“And I’m the world to you, sweet Olivia.”

“No! You’re not.”

“Yes…” She could feel Olivia shaking and she took her hand. “Olivia, I care about you, even if no one else does.”

“What are you—”

“You need someone who can help you. I saw you last night. You were at your window, staring at nothing again.”

“I was looking at the stars, mother.”

“They’re as far away as dreams, dear. They are not real.”

“If they’re not real, why can everyone else see them?”

Rebecca smiled, the best she could, and helped Olivia into one of the chairs. “They can’t. People…they say things to make you feel not so alone.”

“You’re lying. There are songs about the stars.”

“There are songs about many things that are not real. That’s the life of a poet, of a dreamer, of an idealist.” She fell back into her seat at the head of the table. “But you are none of those things; you are in politics. And as a Woman in power, of royal descendent, you have a duty to your people to speak to them from a level they can understand. Nobody understands this dream world of yours, Olivia.”

Olivia shook her head. Her hair was still a mess.

“Kadaj…” she whispered. “I need to speak to him.”

“Have some more tea, dear. You’re getting pale again.”

Olivia looked up. Her mother was holding a steaming cup between her hands.

“How many have I had?” she asked.

Still smiling, Rebecca blew on the tea to cool it off. “This is your second cup.”

“I don’t remember having a first…”

“You were telling me about Kadaj when you had it…”

“Yes, Kadaj…” Olivia took the cup. Her hand was still shaking and she spilled a few drops on her dress, but the rest ended up in her mouth. It was warmer than she remembered. It always seemed to get warmer. Not how it tasted, but how it made her feel; how it lifted her from this world. That was the best kind of tea. The kind with the clouds that never hid below the surface and whose leaves would always stay afloat.

“It is good tea, mother,” she said after the first lip. The taste still lingered on her lips.

“Yes. The tea has always helped you.”

Olivia raised the cup to her mouth again.

“And now that you’re relaxed, we can talk about this ‘Kadaj’ nonsense like sensible Women. There’s no reason for a mother and daughter to fight this way.”

“You took him,” Olivia whispered into the tea. The clouds scattered under her breath. “You took him away from me again.”

“No, dear…” Rebecca interlaced her fingers with Olivia’s free hand. “I didn’t. I couldn’t take him away from you because he never existed.” She watched her daughter’s arm finally stop trembling. “He’s a figment of your imagination, dear. When you were a little girl and you could fit in my lap, you told me the only thing you wanted in this life was someone to talk to. I wanted to be that person, but I was always busy tending to the Queen and your cousins were both so mean to you. They used to pull on your beautiful hair and call you names that made you cry. Do you remember the names they used to call you?”

Olivia nodded, dreamily.

“They were wicked children, weren’t they? But they’ve matured since then. Isabella will make a wonderful queen someday and that little May who used to eat bugs from our vineyard has really grown up, even without her mother to guide her.” Her fingers began to tighten and she tenderly kissed Olivia’s hand. “…You were luckier than them both, Olivia. You had a mother who loved you and just wanted you to be happy. I even tried to buy you some real friends, but you wouldn’t have it. You just wanted to be with that silly Kadaj.”

Olivia’s eyes began to swirl in her tea. They followed those leaves around in circles. Around and around, chasing each other like the sun and the moon, like the seasons, like the past chasing after the present, like the cycle of life, all over again.

“Somewhere along the way, I failed you as a mother,” Rebecca was saying. “I didn’t know what to do when you started playing with a pretend Man. My sister thought it was a phase. Your cousins wanted to lock you up. Most everybody else thought you were insane, but I told them all you simply had a vivid imagination.” It was apparent now that she was trying not to cry. “Why couldn’t you have outgrown that, Olivia? Why couldn’t you have been a normal child?”

“…Perhaps I failed you as a daughter.”

“No. You did nothing wrong, Olivia.”

“Then why are you telling me all of this?”

The tea began to dribble from Olivia’s lips. She was having a hard time holding onto the cup, but her mother held her hands in place.

“You must understand that your…eccentricities…are more difficult to hide than when you were a child,” Rebecca said. “There are expectations for a Woman in your position. Your cousins understand this and that is why they outgrew their childish phases. They, like my sister and like you, have a kingdom to consider.”

“…For a Woman who claims to know what’s going on at all times, you know very little about your nieces,” Olivia said, lowering the cup. “And you know even less about the future of this kingdom.”

“I know it’s doomed if its countess remains riddled with such…impractical thoughts.”

“He’s real, mother.”

“What?”

“Kadaj is real! I’ve talked to him. I’ve held him in my hands.” She pushed her chair out. “I don’t know what you’ve done with him, but he’s more real than you ever were.”

“Olivia! Watch your tone. I am your mother.”

“And I am the countess of this house! You are not to keep secrets from me.”

“My dear, what secret do you mean? I’ve confessed everything. The only lies that have been told are the ones you keep in your head.”

Olivia stumbled backwards, knocking the teacup onto the floor. “You’re lying. You’re lying again!”

“Olivia, please sit down. You’re shaking.”

“Shut up! You don’t know me.”

Rebecca put her hands over her mouth.

“You’re like a spider. All your words are venom. Poisonous, green venom…” Her eyes shot wildly across the room and landed in the puddle of tea leaves and shards of porcelain on the floor. “He’s real. I’ve seen him. I’ve seen spiders and stars.”

“You’re scaring me, Olivia.” Rebecca took her daughter’s wrist. “Please…”

“I’ve seen them move. Follow me. Whisper…things…at night….” In a daze, Olivia’s eyes began to drift to the ceiling. The chandelier began to spin around her head. Beads of glass and sparkling light rained down on her.

“Olivia…?”

All the lights were on now. All the candles on the table flickered in a blue flame. All the rays of the sun pierced the pores on her skin. She felt their warmth again.

“Servants! Servants, get in here now!”

Soon it wasn’t the chandelier that was turning. Her whole body was twirling, like in a dance, like in a song. All her curls of hair began to coil like snakes around her neck and she saw her mother, with all eight legs, rising from her chair. She saw the venom, the dripping royal colors, and she shrank back into the dark. Lifeless, gone, and away.

“Hurry!” cried the spider. “It’s gotten worse. You told me you wouldn’t use so much this time.”

She’ll be fine, they kept saying. She’ll be fine in this dream. With the spider. As long as she kept looking at the light, but she was on her side now, drinking the venom from the floor. The poison in her veins was getting colder. The white crystals were turning to darkness. And still there was a piano, invisible in the corner, playing her song…

“Don’t hurt her! I love her. I don’t want anything to happen to her.”

“It looks bad, but she’ll pull through.”

“No one else can know.”

“No one will.”

Her spirit could still see through her eyes. The spider was there, kneeling next to her with two figures of black, watching her sleep… They were doing nothing to help.

“What about Kadaj? She’ll still remember him when she awakes.”

“She won’t. She’ll never remember anything again.”

The spider seemed relieved. She was smiling, at least.

“I’m just glad it’s over,” she said. Her voice echoed like a dream. “All those years of insanity and madness, of wishing she wasn’t my child…”

“Those are behind you now. It’s time you made Ellewyn a better place.”

“Yes,” the spider said. “Yes, we must do this for the future of Ellewyn…”

The figures of black nodded.

“You’ve done well, Rebecca,” one of them said. “It would have been a shame to have to kill your daughter.”

“I would’ve done it, if you needed me to. I just thought…this would be better.”

“It’s understandable. We would never ask you to kill someone you love unless it was necessary.” The figures turned around. “Fortunately, it wasn’t necessary this time.”

“Yes, yes… It was very fortunate.” The spider looked up. “Will I be able to see my daughter again?”

“…For now, it would be best if you stayed away. The sight of people or remnants of her past could potentially override the effects of the drugs.”

“I understand.”

One of the figures took the ruby tiara from where it had fallen and placed it on Rebecca’s head.

“…You redeemed yourself today, Countess Rebecca,” she said. “After that unfortunate…incident in your past…we thought we could never trust you again. But this title is rightfully yours once more.”

“Thank you. Your people have always been good to me.”

Countess Rebecca. It had such a terrible ring to it… Olivia couldn’t help but laugh to herself. At least, she wanted to, but her body was somewhere else. It was lying in a catatonic heap about three feet below her.

Was she dead? What had happened? Who were these people standing around her?

Horrified, she tried to flail her arms, but they were too far away, and when she opened her mouth to scream, no sound came out. All she could do was lie helpless on her back as the chandelier drew closer, its white crystals cascading around her like a halo of light…

It wasn’t until the figures touched her body that she fell away, back into the darkness, and became one with her mortal coil again. It wasn’t until their fingers touched hers that she lost all her senses to the cold and let them take her away.

Then, it all became a dream.