At the banquet, they entered together and it was easy to see that they were in love with each other. Jorli scampered up to her friend and with no pretexts, she called council in her room later that night and then scampered off for a leg of lamb. The banquet provided for much food, drink and council with the King.
“Zjorn will be killing Relir at midnight tomorrow. He is still in the Pinnacles, according to our scouts so you must start early. The Pinnacles are still unknown territory for us and it is enormous. Zjorn created it as a labyrinth and we have yet to hear of someone who has escaped alive. The key would be to find out what is the ‘pure liquid’ that Zjorn must drink. We might be able to give the child some time…” He looked around at the other members of the group. “Will all of you be going?”
“Your highness, I speak on behalf of Perlen and myself,” began Sinlar “and we are bound to serve and protect Lady Saria.”
“Me too…your highness,” piped Jorli, who stopped devouring a roast pheasant to answer.
“The child is of the Range and I have sworn to retrieve him at all costs,” replied Koslor. Karil was about to make her statement when Saria interrupted.
“I believe Karil should stay for she has a family and does not have a real reason for going.” She smiled at her as the mare lowered her head in embarrassment. Saria somehow knew that she was not sure how to tell them that she had priorities that did not allow her to go. Thus, everything was settled and arrangements for the morrow were attended to. For the meanwhile, all were indulging in Drendhil mead.
Later, Saria excused herself and told Oslin that she will be in her room in a bit, if he would like to ‘celebrate.’ He held her close and whispered into her ear. They smiled at each other and she left. The King watched as she left and turned his attention to Oslin, whose gaze lingered a bit longer.
“She would make an exquisite wife,” mentioned the King, snapping Oslin from his distraction.
“She would,” he replied.
“What is this? Do I hear bitterness in your voice?” exclaimed the King. “Do you not see how much in love she is with you?”
Oslin concentrated on his glass, finding the mead interesting as it swished in his goblet.
“You must promise me that what I am about to tell you does not leave your lips. Ever.” Oslin looked melancholically at the King.
“Warlock of the Wind, I am King of the Drendhils but above all else, I am a man of my word.”
“Lady Saria is only in love because it is part of the enchantment my brother placed on me,” he said finally. “What she did would have been very difficult for any woman to have done and yet she did it for the love of her friends and family.” He paused for a bit. “You see, my brother Urlin, was jealous of me and so when he had the chance, decided to curse me in the most despicable of ways.” He stopped to drink the rest of the contents of his goblet. It refilled by itself.
“The nature of the third riddle and test was one. The fact that it had to be a woman; another. And the last, the worst of them all. The one no one knows about. The one who frees me will be enchanted for the space of one moon cycle, in love with me to the very marrow of her bones. When the cycle is over, she will forget me and never recall all the time we had been together. In her mind’s eye, she will see me as the ugliest and most repulsive man ever. This would not be so difficult had it not been for one thing: from the moment I found Saria in front of me, I did not want her to be anywhere else.” He turned to the King with sadness. “I had been a popular sort of man in my day, the reason for Urlin’s jealousy. And now, his revenge could not have been sweeter. I know what I want now and it can never be mine.” The King sighed and downed the contents of his own cup.
“Is there nothing to be done? Could the enchantment be broken?”
“Your Highness, you are talking to the Warlock of the Wind and even I cannot break this enchantment.”
“Because it has been cast upon you! Could not someone else convince the Warlock of the Sea to lift it? Could reason not be met?”
“If only I knew it to be so. For now, I will be content to love the Lady Saria with all my heart, for all of the days that are left us. And I may be able to recall these days and think that once, I truly was happy.” The King also fell out of spirits.
“If only there was something that was in my power that could help you…” he said. The two said nothing and sipped quietly their mead.
As for Saria, she was found knocking on Jorli’s door. It flew open and she was ushered in. As soon as the door closed in Jorli’s room, the Fox only gave her a stare.
“What happened in the Warlock’s chamber?” she asked. Jorli had always been direct. She was about to answer when the door flew open and Sinlar fluttered in.
“I was thinking I would find you here,” she ruffled. “Now what is going on with you and this young warlock?”
The door flew open a third time and it was Perlen. He looked around and was a bit abashed. But recovering he said, “Is this young man a suitor?” Saria laughed at the three.
“Well, I suppose I’ve been found out,” she started.
“Have you ever!” cried Jorli. “But I want you to start from the beginning: how did you free the warlock?” Saria turned several shades of red. Jorli raised her paw to her forehead.
“Don’t tell me you… Are you saying….? Was he…” Jorli’s words were coming out in jumble.
“Just answer us this then, child,” said Perlen. “What was the third riddle?”
“’What has not been taken must be freely given,’” she replied. It was obvious enough. Sinlar and Perlen’s beaks sat ajar while Jorli threw herself onto the floor. Perlen gasped before asking, “Did you…?”
“Of course she did, Perlen! Do you not see that he is alive and well?” reprimanded Sinlar.
“I still don’t under…” piped Jorli.
“Child, are you in love?” asked Sinlar.
“I’m not sure,” replied Saria. “I know it is too soon to fall in love but I care about him immensely and I could get used to a man like him. All I know is that when I am with him, I don’t want to be with anyone else.” The three friends looked at each other in turn.
“In love,” they said in unison.
“But I’m not sure what will happen after the moon is over. Will he go away? Will he forget who I am? Will he serve someone else? It is such a short time…”
“Short indeed…” mused Perlen. “Tomorrow we go to the Pinnacles to free this child. We shall ponder this at length afterwards. To sleep, everyone!” He looked sternly at Saria. “I mean it.”
Later, in Saria’s chambers, after she and Oslin kept their battlefield promise, they lay there spent and euphoric. A little before dawn, Saria woke to find Oslin watching her slumber and stroking her hair. She smiled at him and crept closer to his body, finding it warm and hard. She traced her fingers down the length of his body and found him waiting and wanting. Her mouth searched his face, his neck and wandered down to envelope him in the most aching of wants and needs for this woman that he had only met yesterday.
Love, it is said, is a seed that needs time to grow and however fast, one day seems to be much too short. Nevertheless, the warlock was not a normal man, by any standard. He had lived his years in an intense living dedicated to charm, battles and frivolous women. Long were those years and nothing could apparently change them or him, for that matter, had it not been for one event that would have seemed otherwise insignificant: he was bored. It was not something that he could have thought or said had those events in which he partook daily began to lose their diversion. He began to remember how he yearned for those experiences and how now, it really did not matter whether he did take a woman or not. He had enjoyed them but it did not matter because afterwards, they would disappear from his life. Traveling from land to land, he was given his choice in women. He was ‘lucky’ in other men’s words. Especially according to Urlin, and misfortune struck when Oslin took a woman that his brother was fond of. He was little aware of his brother’s feelings when he had done so but soon found out from an angry tirade that ensued from a man-to-man boast of the women he had had. Wounded, Urlin accused his brother of frivolity and incapability to love. It was a comment true and direct but it was one that Oslin could not eliminate from his mind for it placed a finger on his open wound, the one that did not have a name. It was then that Oslin became conscious of his actions and what sort of effect they would have on others. He began to look within himself and ask what had ever been meaningful in his life of excess and his view of life began to change. In the constant adoration from women, he was alone and he began to realize that his constant adventures were due to the fact that he really did not care to live for he had nothing to live for. And as his brother captured him and held him captive in the Tower, he told him of the curse he was about to place. And it broke Oslin’s heart for it implied the greatest sacrifice of a woman who did not know him when they would meet and would not know him when they would part. But for one moon cycle, she would give him what he needed the most: love. It would be true and honest and as the spell was cast, he yearned to meet this woman or never wake again.
When he did, Saria had just given him a kiss. Sweet and tender, unlike any he had ever had before. And upon looking at her face, he knew that an angel like her could not exist anywhere else but in his arms. She was coquettish but strong and a soul braver than most men. She was unique and the answer to a life-long search he had never known he had started. But there she was, lying next to him, satiating his passion and provoking others he had never known of. So what seemed to be a scarce rising and setting of the sun was actually a product of many years of experiences. In other words, he finally knew what he wanted. Now that he had her though, he did not want to let her go but that inevitability would end. Yet he preferred this to never having had her at all. So he loved her as if every moment would be the last knowing that quite soon, she would shunt him from her life. His, meaningless until he was cursed, was cursed again when the spell was broken. And now, he was so violently in love that he could not imagine a life without her. So as he entered her again and again, he hoped with all his might that at least her body would remember who he was and how he loved her.
