Bride of the Dark Lord

#72 Xemein Awakens II

My eyes opened, as I awakened.

The clash of storm against the window pane, almost trying to scare me, much more than my vision already had. However, nothing could beat the fear from this trance that was biting me from my jaws to my feet.

From the bottom of my belly, I felt nausea brewing, instantly, I wore a gown and sped out, and within two seconds, all I had eaten in the last two days rushed out of my gut, via my mouth. "Guh-h-h" the muscles of my stomach clenched, wrenching out every bit of grain within it.

Regalis. I looked in the direction of our room. He's going to die.

A tear slid out of my eyes. My visions were never wrong.

Why?

Why! He did nothing to deserve it. Why were the gods so unfair? Why! My heart screamed. As the remaining contents of my belly, hit the ground.

Tomorrow night, was Samhain night. There was no stopping Regalis. His mind was made up, concerning ending Randall, to set his people free.

I breathed in. Panting, as my heart raced.

If he enters the Capital tomorrow, he'll die.

I'm certain of it.

Then, he must not enter it. My mind whispered.

How? So far as I was going to meet Randall this Samhain night, Regalis would never agree not to follow.

Then, you have to make it hard for him to follow. If not, the alternative, is his death.

I heard laughter.

At this late hour, who could still be making noise this loudly?

The laughter came again. Then, voices. Two or three persons.

I walked towards the noise. And finally reached the garden. The garden, where Alistair and Regalis met. And on the pavilion of the garden, was Ladislas's nephew, Hazlitt, along with a boy, that Hazlitt was staring at, as though he hung the moon.

Hazlitt, the one I believed his taste buds not to be functioning anymore. The one, from the celebratory meal.

Fire torches blazed all round.

And the red-headed boy with Hazlitt, lifted the basket beside him, and placed it on the table between them. He uncovered the basket. It was a basket of pies.

"I made different flavours this time" the boy squealed.

"Wow! That's amazing, Kai" Hazlitt said.

"I know right?" Kai smiled. "As usual, I want you to be the first to taste them. I have to know if my baking skills have improved".

Hazlitt, gave a one-sided smile. That to me, seemed filled with panic.

Could he really taste the pies? At the celebratory table, was I not certain of what I observed?

"Hazlitt" Kai said, looking serious, "I really need you to be critical this time around. It seems you don't want to hurt my feelings, so, you say nice things about every food I give you to taste".

"Just tell me, if it's not delicious. I can take it. I'm not a toddler" Kai said.

"I always tell you the..."

"truth?" Kai shook his head, "the last rice I gave you, you said it was the best you’ve ever eaten. Yet, your little brother tasted it later, and said it was tasteless. Even my own mother" he whispered the last sentence and laughed.

Hazlitt, did the same. Laughed along with his friend. Or lover.

"So taste this" Kai put a few pies on a plate and passed it to Hazlitt "and tell me the honest truth".

Hazlitt took one of the pies.

He can't taste it. My mind whispered. His taste buds, have most likely been damaged, while suffering from the mouth nightshade ailment, when he was much younger.

He ate the pie, "lovely", his mouth, still full of pie.

"Really?" Kai's eyes widened "I've been trying this new recipe. It's my grandma's. I’m so glad I finally got it right". He stood and kissed Hazlitt on his cheek, "I must rush over to my grandmother's, she must hear this good news".

"It's late" Hazlitt said, "let me walk you..."

"Don't worry" Kai said joyously, "I'll definitely leave this remaining basket of pies for you and your family. I'll see you in the morning, after I hear from my grandma".

And he sped off, singing to himself. Someone had approved his cooking.

I came out of my hiding space. "You are most certainly good at lying" I said, as I climbed unto the pavilion.

Hazlitt jumped, "gosh, you scared me".

He sat back, while I sat too and took one of the pies.

"Why aren't you asleep?" he said.

I tasted the pie. And gosh...Mother of Light...it was the worst thing I've ever tasted. In my life! I must add.

I spat the pie out. And dropped what was left of it back onto a plate on the table.

"Gosh, Hazlitt" I said, "you'll be in trouble this morning when Kai returns".

His face lost its brightness, "is the taste that bad?"

"Truthfully?" I said. "Very. Very bad".

The pie in his hand, fell back into the basket.

"Doesn't Kai know?" I said.

I mean, since, they were likely to have grown up together in the same village, Kai should've noticed this by now, or Hazlitt should've told him by now.

Hazlitt shook his head, "only my immediate family knows. And I want to keep it that way".

"You could tell him" I suggested.

He shook his head, "Kai loves cooking. Since we were kids. Always trying new recipes. The moment, he knows that it's not about me being unwilling to be critical, but that I really can not taste what he has cooked, I'm afraid he will stop bringing each new meal to me, for me to be the first person to try it" his shoulders sagged.

And I took his hands in mine.

“My family has tried everything. All the herbs and potions unGifted healers recommended, none has worked to fix my taste buds permanently".

"And a Gifted healer?"

He sighed, "they are all in the Capital. Most charge fees before healing. I've been saving money. Before my twentieth birthday, I should've enough to pay a powerful healing mage".

Since his lack of taste buds, wasn't detrimental to his health, I understood why his family may not make it their foremost goal to save up money to heal him. After all, I've heard cases of people who lived long healthy lives, without taste buds or even another sense organ.

However, in Hazlitt's case, I had a feeling, he'd have accepted this part of himself and moved on, but, as fate would have it, the boy he loved, enjoyed cooking. If they ever ended up together, was this how he'd keep lying? Was this how he'd never be able to truly feel the taste of his lover's meal?

To taste if it was good. To tell and appreciate how much effort his lover put into preparing a meal for him.

"I just want to be able to taste his meals. And then, maybe someday, taste his lips too, and be able to tell what they tasted like. Sunshine and roses? Jasmine and apples?"

It'd be good to save all my strength, for this last battle with Randall, however, I heard my lips speak, "what if you don't have to spend a dime? 'Cause right here, seated with you, is a healer and Feeder. And I'll heal you, without payment, on one condition".