The Blue Pearl

"I am sorry."

Bedona saw Moswen kneeling in front of her, his hands folded on them as he dipped his head lower and apologized again. Bedona didn't answer; she didn't even try to see if she could or if his shackles still held her.

"Bedona…, can you hear me?"

His voice was soft, tender, and so very full of worry and concern. His reached his hand out just above Bedona's own that lay motionless by her side. Without thinking she pulled it back and pushed it in between her b.r.e.a.s.ts and whimpered. Moswen froze and backed away slowly. And she heard the soft crunch of wet sand as his knees sank deeper into the red sand.

Red with blood. Her blood. There was just so much of it, all around her in the glittering red sand. But she didn't feel like she could care about it. She had just been banished from her guild. Just like Vilon's warning.

Just like Rollo's warning.

You were right you old fool; I am burned just like you said I would.

She could even imagined Rollo's wrinkled face smiling sadly at her as she sat among the fragment of her ruined life.

Even from the start she knew that Vilon wasn't what he said he was. And neither did she care about it. She had always though she would be unaffected by his cold war against Aristeros. No matter whichever of the two came out the winner of it in the end, she would be a Liaison by then.

Though hidden, a faction was forming, the senior Eyes that were loyal to Aristeros and the newer ones who looked forward to Vilon's vision for greater heights. Rollo of course, supported their Anchor. And Bedona, even though she didn't like Vilon as a person, by the few nights they had spent, agreed to most of what he had said. A firmer hand, a tighter grip on the Eyes. There were so many of them and they could do so much more. Something greater than even what Pearl and her Liaisons did, despite having only a fraction of the numbers the Eyes did.

"Bedona!"

Moswen called her name again. She looked up and saw a dirty face under golden light, mess of hair and beard, small beady eyes, wide nose and mouth. "How do you feel?"

His hand held her tiny wrist, skin pink and tender as he lifted them softly, like he was holding the most delicate of things. The touched hurt but she couldn't seem to care.

"Move your fingers." He said softly.

She should have been too.

Her free hand slapped the ground beside her but felt nothing underneath. No magic. Before she could move her hand to her throat, the man snatched them from the air and held them in place.

"Stop it!" He warned, but his voice was soft, pained. "You'll hurt yourself."

Bedona laughed at his audacity. After what he had done he dared to worry.

"I am done, I have nothing. You took everything from me." She found herself saying with every shred of accusation she could find in her.

It was not really fair to him. It was just a game she had played and lost but she could not help herself. Blaming him soothed her pain a little.

"I am sorry." But he still apologized.

"Kill me, end it. And you can go your way. No one will come after you." She found herself asking, begging. She was just so tired and realized if he actually did what she was asking, she would not mind.

"No, I am sorry for what I did in my… arrogance but death is not an answer. Not for someone like you." He paused as if he wanted to say something more but stopped halfway. And after deep breath started again. "Tell me how you feel."

Vilon's curse once active was a death sentence, a painful death sentence. Not only that, her marks were also gone. Something she thought were impossible to remove.

This dumb looking giant had just done something impossible. And looking at him again she had noticed something else. Around them was a dome. A dome of floating golden marks that slowly twirled and changed shape in the air. It created a half sphere of semi-transparent dim golden light around them.

"Wha-what is this?" She asked with wide eyes of shock and a voice full of wonder that she was not able to contain.

"This is my zone." The giant simply answered and didn't elaborate.

"How am I alive?" He looked at her but didn't answer, thinking he hadn't understood she asked again, "My… curse-"

"-Is no more. You are free now." He paused and sighed. "…But I feel you preferred to be in its clutch."

She did. There was a certain understanding in his voice, like he understood the situation she was in. as the time went, even when her shackles in her mind are removed, she felt it harder and harder to hate him.

She was finally given the full control of her body. She realized it when she felt the dull pain coursing through her head to the tips of her toe.

Studying her new hand and she sat straighter and took a deep breath. Moswen was also sitting still, kneeling on the red sand soaked in her blood and waiting. Another mystery, but compared to her curse, loosing this much blood and living was easier to swallow.

This time Bedona stared silently. Some anger was still there in her for him but she was curious what he had to say. How much she could find out.

"What do I do now?" She asked, no reason than just to see him squirm in guilt again, and squirm he did.

Amusing - it would have been if her life was not in complete tatters.

Ah, tears! They flowed without orders. She wiped them with the back of her 'good' hand along with some snot that she hadn't realized was also dripping.

"Bedona I-" He started then paused. Mouth shut, brows squished like trying to think out the answer.

What would he even say?

What did he even 'Know'?

She could sulk and wallow in her own misery but her practical mind also needed some sustenance. Questions bubbling inside of her that she had been suppressing thinking them not 'appropriate' for the 'occasion'. Like-

"How am I alive?"

Was he thinking I should be grateful to him for it? No, by the thick cloud of guilt floating over his head, she didn't think so.

"How?" She asked, her practical mind not satisfied.

"My …magic." He answered.

Was he joking with her? Making fun of her?

Anger flared and she found herself snarling at the shocked giant.

"Don't give me that. How am I alive? How did you save me? Vilon's curse is incurable, one life, one curse, a body escapes, a soul doesn't-"

-Cough, cough-

She hadn't anticipated her dry throat. Leaving her in a coughing fit in the mid of her rant, but she had been too angry to care. The giant rubbed his hand softly on her back only for her to slap it away.

Hard, like hitting a rock.

"Curses are not impossible to cure, if you have a … substitute. It can be transferred or if you are much stronger than the cause one can even suppress it."

He softly uttered, holding her pained wrist in between his palms. Warm. It spread through the pain, fighting it, overwhelming it and only a tingling comfort remained.

No chant, no flare of magic. Bedona was not very good at sensing ambient magic but this close; she would have no difficulty sensing it. But she didn't feel even a whiff from the man.

"Are you saying you are stronger than Vilon, who is said to be as strong as if not more than Aristeros himself."

She felt herself incredulous at his explanation. Was it as simple was that? Surely not. If it was as easy to get out of Vilon's clutches, he wouldn't be regarded with that much fear. When his mark first took root in her, she could tell she had become his, body and soul. A slave in all but name. The only reason she let that happen was that in return she got his word. In an event that he didn't keep his word, he would lose control over her along with some other additions…

Bedona also had hoped that, going under Pearl's wing would also release her from it.

After all, what is a Mind in front of an Anchor?