TheInkWell Fiction Challenge | Prelude to an End

Week 12 of TheInkWell Fiction Challenge Summer 2020

img_0.08448680746193597.jpg
Photo by Lians Jadan on Unsplash

Series Title: Our Thirteen Sonatas

Week 1: A Star Burns Bright as It Collides
Week 2: Ghost of the Past
Week 3: A Sorry Tale of Woe
Week 4: To Thine Own Self
Week 5: A Day at a Time
Week 6: A Day Is Saved
Week 7: The Threads That Bind
Week 8: The First Step
Week 9: The Last Drop
Week 10: Three of Fates
Week 11: Blood Ties

It was dim and dingy here, like an alley filled with unsavory characters. I purposefully strode down the narrow hallway of the holding cells, not giving a damn about the intense throbbing I felt in my head. I had to finish this soon.. It was just there at the end of this hall.. Discord..

“Uhm.. Sir Lucius.. I’m not sure you should be straining yourself like this— I mean, you just got out of the hospital!”

I felt a small smile creep on my face as I kept on walking. This man from the hospital, who I later knew to be Jacques, turned out to be such a worrywart. It’ll be good for his health to switch bosses after I was done playing Abraham Lucius..

I abruptly stopped in front of a cell door, feeling my companion slightly bump onto my back in surprise, “Jacques, hand over the keys. You’re dismissed.” There was a pregnant pause in the stale air and I had to look back towards Jacques only to see a sad look upon his usual jolly face, “I—I don’t wanna think this is about getting even with.. what happened to Mr. Dorham..”

My heart clenched at the mention of James’ name and somewhere deep in my soul, I could feel the clawing despair— a missed connection, a fleeting thread of love and life. “It’ll be alright, Jacques.” I told him as I held out a hand for the keys, “There are just some questions I need answers to.”

Jacques conceded by handing over the set of keys but still had a hesitant look on his face as I ordered him back to his desk, sighing to myself once he was gone, I focused on unlocking the cell door. Once I had pulled the door open, the cloying scent of overripe apples assaulted my senses and then suddenly memories that were not quite my own— nor from any of the several lifetimes I’ve lived— seemed to swarm me.

The scorching heat of warfire, the sharp clashing of metals and the rumble of chariots just after the thunderous roars of men climbing down a huge wooden horse. I felt myself snap out of it as I heard the cell door shut behind me in an audible clack before my eyesight had time to adjust to the semi-darkness that seemed to surround the being sitting languidly in front of me.

“You seem to always pick the bad choices don’t you, Paris of Troy?”

Something pricked deep within my soul, as if barely scratching the surface and before I knew it, I was pulled forward— wretched out of the body that was known as Abraham Lucius— while the murderer in front of me, the Vessel of Discord revealed its true form, the goddess Eris.

“The Fates have offered me a truce..” Eris’ full lips curved into a sensual smirk as she gazed at me with her dark eyes— eyes that saw generations of men seduced to their downfall— “However, they seem to have forgotten I wasn’t one of the goddesses scorned when you chose the love of Helen above all else..”

I steeled myself not to flinch away as Eris gently traced a long fingernail across my cheek, her hand finally coming away from me, suddenly holding out a golden apple. “One bite. For the fairest shall now fair in both Love and War.”

Entranced, I opened my mouth and bit into the forbidden fruit, a whisper of a promise the last thing I heard before all went black.

“And now, we shall see how this twisted tale ends..”