Chapter 129 EPILOGUE 3/6 – Memories
Chapter 129 EPILOGUE 3/6 – Memories
RIAGHAIRE
Riaghaire lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling as he absently ran his hand up and down his gréine’s arm. She was draped over him, her head resting on his chest, as this was her favourite way to cuddle while watching TV. Not that either of them were currently paying attention to what was happening on the black rectangle she’d placed against the wall. At least, he wasn’t, and he doubted she was either — they were just enjoying each other’s company with some background noise to fill the air.
“Riaghaire…” she began, trailing off as a way to prompt him to respond, which would assure her that he was paying attention.
“Yes, gréine?,” he replied without needing to think about it.
“I’m think I met the Moon Goddess.”
His hand stilled, then lowered to press against her arm. Mind racing, Riaghaire tried to think of when this might have happened and why — the why was more important, in his opinion, as deities were unable to meet with mortals whenever they pleased. Why would She wish to meet with his gréine? “When?,” he finally asked, deciding to focus on the timing before delving into the reason behind it — lighter topics should precede heavier ones.
His gréine adjusted her position until she was nearly curled around him, a finger tracing over his chest, a thing she tended to do when something was evoking a feeling of discomfort or anxiety. “When I rejected the wolves.”
Riaghaire blinked. That was when she’d been unconscious and near death for four days. Had she nearly died because the Moon Goddess had interfered or… A burning in his chest made the vampire aware of his anger, which he promptly smothered. Now wasn’t the time for an emotional response. “You wish to tell me about your meeting with Her?”
He felt her nod, her finger continuously tracing patterns on his chest.
“Tell me.”
His gréine recalled what had been said between herself and the Moon Goddess to the best of her ability and none of it made Riaghaire happy. It was a known fact that deities rarely, if ever, bothered to think of those they used as anything more than a means to an end — pawns. That she had been forced to deal with one face to face, on her own, was simply unacceptable.
There was a minute of silence after she’d finished the retelling and Riaghaire spent it mulling over what was said and how it would be best if he never came face to face with the Moon Goddess.
“Do you think she actually gave me a blessing?,” his gréine asked, voice quiet, as though she worried the answer might cause her harm.
“Deities do not lie,” he informed her after a moment. “They are like the fae in that regard.”
She let out a sighed. “I figured.”
“Do you believe she gave you a blessing?”
His gréine shrugged. “I don’t know. I woke up afterwards feeling basically the same as I did before — I think. I’m worried about ‘what’ the blessing might be.”
That was a fair concern. Riaghaire hadn’t a clue what sort of blessing the Moon Goddess might have bestowed upon his gréine. “What made you decide to speak of this now?” If this had been bothering her for some time he should have noticed. Whenever something was on her mind, his gréine showed outward signs, such as fidgeting and an inability to stay still. Restlessness. She became restless. And there had been no indication of this to his knowledge.
“I only started remembering it the last few days,” she explained with another shrug. “It felt more like a dream when it started coming back to me but, the more I remembered, the more real it became; if that makes sense.”
“Do you wish to do something about it?,” he asked after a bit, his hand stroking her arm once more.
She let out a small laugh. “I don’t think there’s anything I can do, even if I wanted. I just… wanted to tell you about it, that’s all.”
Riaghaire glanced down at his gréine, only able to see the top of her head. Leaning forward, he brushed his lips against her hair before lying back again. “Thank you for telling me.” A twinge in his chest made him hesitate before adding, “May… I tell you something in return?”
He could feel her body stiffen for a second before relaxing again. “Of course. What’s up?”
For a long moment he stared at the ceiling in silence. “Under the effects of the sleep charm Marlow used to subdue me, I was able to dream.”
His gréine moved now, propping herself up to see his face. She was frowning. “I thought you said vampires don’t dream.”
“That is correct. I had not dreamed since being Turned. At least, that had been the truth before I was charmed to sleep. I also have not dreamed since.”
She was quiet for a moment, her green eyes studying his face as her mind went over this new piece of information. After a while, she shook her head, her frown clearing away. “What did you dream about?”
“My past.” Riaghaire was aware he’d never told her about his past — outside of his enjoyment of decapitating wolves, that is — and she’d never broached the subject on her own. Whether it was out of fear, or simple politeness, he didn’t know and had never asked.
His gréine tilted her head to one side. “I see.” Another beat of silence. “Are you comfortable telling me about it?”
Her eyes were clear when she asked. No fear, no hesitation; she was curious. Nothing more, nothing less. This helped settled some of his worry on the matter as he gave her a nod. “If you are willing to listen.”
She returned to using his chest as a pillow, patiently waiting for him to begin his tale.
“The dream was a memory of the end of my life as a human. It is not… pretty.”
“The truth rarely is,” she assured him, her hands moving to his sides and giving him a reassuring squeeze.
“There is a lot I do not recall of my life as a human,” he began, unsure where else to start. “My parents, my childhood, my friends… I cannot even recall the face of my wife nor the sound of her voice. Even her name is lost to me.” At the revelation he’d been married, his gréine had tensed. A few seconds later she relaxed once more but Riaghaire knew this would be something she would want to discuss later. Much later, he hoped. “We also had a child — a son — whose name and face I also do not recall. I do recall that I loved them both deeply but even that feels odd. To love someone you cannot remember…” he trailed off, unsure how to put this feeling into words.
How does one describe loving someone when they feel like nothing more than a stranger? Because that’s how it felt to him whenever he tried to remember his little family. It was almost like someone else’s feelings intruded into his memories — as if he were seeing his past through another’s eyes.
“At the time, I was a young man — somewhere close to twenty…”