Memoirs of a Madwoman, a novel... by Rebecca Watters Options

[Lady Syl]

Prologue
Undisclosed Location in
the Shivering Isles, the
Realm of Sheogorath
3E 433

Looking at my reflection in the mirror before me, clad in the robe of an Order Priest, I never thought that this was where I would end up. I have betrayed my Lord Sheogorath. I am now an enemy of the man I once worshipped as the Madgod. He had been everything to me, just as He is everything to all of His loyal subjects, Manic and Demented alike. But now He is a man I despise. Sheogorath went too far when He allowed that outsider to come into the Realm and usurp the throne of Mania. Now I want Him to pay for what He did to Thadon, and to me, and to all that I loved. He took from me every person, everything that ever brought me joy and love, replacing it instead with fear, pain, and sorrow. He couldn’t stand the fact that my heart might love another more than it loved Him, so He took from me anyone He saw as a threat to my devotion to Him. How I didn’t see it before is almost shameful. But then, He keeps the truth hidden from us beneath the heavy and binding layers of madness which He claims is a blessing. That is the truth of the Shivering Isles. All of us that live here have been “blessed” with madness.

But no longer am I bound by those chains. The blessing of Order has freed me from slavery to that prattling fool, and my mind is no longer bogged down with insanity. I have come to a place of clarity for the first time in my life. I can now see how my life might have been, if not for Sheogorath and His Realm of Madness. Had I been given the chance to steer my own course, I might have led a normal life of no consequence. I might even have been happy. Instead, I am filled with anguish, and I feel as if my heart has been torn into a million tiny pieces while it still beat in my chest. Death will come swiftly; I no longer fear it, and I will welcome it with open arms. Only in death can I hope to find peace for what I have done. But even then, I may find nothing more than punishment—who is to say?

Thadon believed that when we die, we would all go to a place of perfect bliss and live together for all of eternity, never to feel pain again. But then, Thadon lived much of his life in his own false sense of bliss, a world created in his own mind with the help of his precious drugs. What a fool he was. And yet, what a beautiful soul he had. Even with all of his faults, I loved him. I still do, I guess. Our people can’t understand how a relationship ever developed between us; if you look at it from the outside, it’s easy to be shocked and confused by such an unlikely pair as Thadon and I. But one has to look much deeper, and return to the very beginning to understand. There is more to the story than what has been told, and only my heart still holds the truth of our love. Our love, conflicted by our madness as it was, was beautiful and pure. No one can understand that without knowing how it all began, and there is only one other person alive now who knows how the story goes. I began recording my story before the truth of my insane state became clear to me, and I gave it to a trusted confidant because I believe she will keep my story safely hidden away until the time is right for it to be revealed. Perhaps it never will be. One can only hope.

There is more to my life than what is here and now. I’ve lived 37 years, all within this Realm, and for an elf, I’m still very young. But in 37 years, I’ve had enough misery to last me an entire elven lifetime, and I’m ready to move on—whether to punishment or eternal bliss—or, more frighteningly, to nothingness. Whatever awaits me, I will face it with courage. I have no choice. The time has come, and I must answer the call, even at the cost of life itself, if necessary. And I take with me the only remaining link to Thadon that I have. The rest I leave behind me, and I pray that my story will not be lost. There is so much to it that has yet to be told, and all of it is part of who I am and who I was before. The events in my life have shaped me, like formless clay is molded into a twisted and beautiful masterpiece by the hands of a Demented artist. Everything that has happened to me has brought me to where I stand now, and it was all beyond my control. But the things I have witnessed, and the suffering that I have endured will not go down in history. Those who survive will view me only as a traitor, and I will be reviled.

But perhaps the time will come when my story can be told, and maybe then I will not be so misunderstood by all who have heard the echo of my name, trembled at the sound of my voice, and looked upon my cold and hardened face. So many have feared me. So many have ridiculed and betrayed me. And so many have seen me only as an enemy without a heart. But that is not all that true; I am not so cold and heartless as I have appeared. Like with each person, man or mer, there is more to me than what is seen on the outside. There are layers of emotion, thought, and experience that compose the depths of who and what I am. There is a side to me that was broken, and hidden away for many years. To those who truly knew me, I was a loyal friend, a doting mother, and a passionate lover. However, most people do not see the world for what it is. They see everything around them with a narrow view, and do not look beyond what is plain to see. Though I am a woman with a broken soul and a beating heart, to most I am only the Lady of Darkness, or the Mistress of Death. To them I am simply Syl, Duchess of Dementia….

Syl in Order robes

This post has been edited by Lady Syl: Sep 2 2011, 03:58 AM

[Lady Syl]

Acadian:Oh, thank you for that nit! I hadn't even realized there were two different kinds of reigns! lol

SubRosa:Not a bad idea, employing her archery skills against Alanwen...




Chapter 6.4—Freedom at a Price

My father was not waiting for us on the palace grounds, as we had feared, but he was waiting in the main hall. He looked at both of us with disappointment and fury, and he ordered me to go to my quarters where we would talk when he had gotten through speaking with Sindorin. I knew better than to disobey, though I feared for Sindorin, and I went to my quarters to wait nervously there.

Half an hour had passed before my father came to me, and I trembled when my door opened and I saw him there. He seemed to have cooled down some, though the disappointment was still all over his face, and I was ashamed that I had let him down. At the same time, I felt that he was being unfair, because I loved Sindorin more than my life itself.

After closing the door, my father came over to stand before me, and I kept my head down in shame, as I knew he expected of me. To raise my head or to meet his eye would have been seen as defiance, and I was expected to remain submissive, as he was not only my father, but also my Duke.

“You have displeased me yet again with your unwillingness to follow my rules,” he began, his voice cold, stinging at me like ice. “All I have asked is that you act like a decent young lady, but you can’t even keep your skirts down long enough to listen.”

“Ada, it was only a kiss,” I started to say, defending myself without raising my voice, so as to stay submissive. But then he slapped me with the back of his hand and I fell back upon my bed, my eyes welling up with burning tears as he continued to chastise me, yelling loudly.

“I am your father! You have disobeyed me for the last time! I don’t care what you think of my rules; as long as you are living in my House, you will obey them without question! No more friends, no more parties, no more hunting with Sindorin! You will stay in your quarters, day and night, except when I say otherwise! You will take your meals in here, alone, and you will continue with your studies under strict supervision. If you so much as bat your eyes at a man, I will have him executed, and you will be beaten! Is that clear?”

“Yes,” I whispered, barely able to speak.

“Good. Then your sentence begins right now. Get to studying. I want to see progress in your knowledge of the history of the Realm. You are to read about the fall of Vitharn, and you will be questioned in the morning, to be sure that you have learned something from it.”

He began toward the door, but I stood up, and managed to ask, “What about Sindorin?”

He stopped and took in a breath, but he didn’t even turn to face me. “He has been sent away and banished from the House of Dementia. You are not to see him again, so forget about him and get to work.”

After saying that much, my father left, and I collapsed onto the bed and wept for over an hour.

******

Over the next week, I was prevented from leaving my quarters, just as my father had said, and not even Muurine was allowed to see me. I wanted so badly to know if Sindorin was still staying in Crucible, and if he was all right, but without having anyone to talk to, I was left with nothing but worry and speculation. My only comfort was the knife from my alchemy equipment, and I cut myself often, whenever I felt overwhelmed and empty. It kept me sure that I was alive, as my current situation made me feel like I was dead. I thought of Cutter and my other friends every time I cut myself, and I realized that it had been months since the last time I had been allowed to speak to any of them. I wondered how they were, and felt betrayed that they were probably still having the time of their lives without me. How I envied their freedom.

I thought my captivity was going to go on forever; a week already felt like an eternity in and of itself. But then my father sent a Seducer to escort me to his garden, and it was the first time I had seen daylight and fresh air in a week. I realized then that I had begun to feel sick, being cooped up inside for so long and the sun on my skin was revitalizing. I didn’t care so much about my skin freckling, and I relished the warmth and the light that shined down on me then.

When my father entered, I could see right away that he was somewhat nervous; but what worried me was that he also seemed almost giddy. He looked more cheerful than I had seen him in many years, and I wasn’t sure what to think of that. Should I be relieved, or afraid?

He stopped before me, and I knelt down to kiss his hand, but then he helped me back up very quickly and embraced me, kissing my forehead the way he always had. I looked at him curiously, suspiciously, and I waited for him to speak, knowing that it was not allowed for me to address him first.

“Thank you for coming to see me,” he said, though I didn’t really have much of a choice. “How are you faring, my dearest daughter? I’m terribly sorry that I didn’t get to see you yesterday at all, but I was rather busy.”

“I am well,” I replied in a meek and almost child-like voice. “Did something happen?”

“Well, yes,” he said vaguely. “But it was not something terrible.”

“Pray, tell me what it is? Should I be rejoicing?”

“I hope that you shall,” he replied, smiling proudly. “Syl, I have asked Alanwen to marry me. She has agreed to become my wife.”

Suddenly I felt as if a wall had tumbled down upon me. The news hit me like a bolt of lightning, and I was stunned. I wanted to kill her. I wanted to slit her throat from ear to ear. She was going to take my Ada away, just as she had been planning ever since she killed my mother. But I was not going to let her. Somehow I had to stop it.

I shook my head in disbelief, saying, “No. No, Ada, you cannot marry her. That woman is a witch! She is a murderer! She killed my mother, and she would kill me, too, if she had the chance!”

“Now, Syl, Alanwen is a good and caring woman. We’ve gone over this many times before—she had nothing to do with your mother’s death. If you’d get over your hatred of her, you would see the woman I see in her, and I love her.”

“She doesn’t have a caring bone in her body!” I snapped. “No. You cannot marry her, Ada. I forbid it.”

“You forbid it?”

“I will not give you my blessing to marry that witch!”

“I did not ask for your blessing, Syl, nor your approval. I am going to marry Alanwen, whether you like it or not. She is the love of my life, and she makes me very happy.”

“Damn you, and that woman!” I spat. “She will not be my step-mother. I would sooner slit my own throat than call her Mother!”

“Don’t you dare say that!” he cried, slapping me rather abruptly across the face and taking me by surprise. My eyes filled with tears, and I looked at him in shock. He realized himself and began to apologize, but I pulled away from him.

“You and your harlot-bride can both rot in hell, for all I care!” I cried. “I won’t be a part of this!”

I ran away from my father as he cried after me, and I only stopped when I ran into Alanwen, who had been listening by the door.

“You!” I sneered. “I am going to kill you!”

“Gelebor!” she cried, as she turned and began to flee.

I tore after her then, and grabbed her by her hair as soon as I caught up to her, yanking so hard that she fell to the floor. She looked up at me, terrified, but unable to say anything.

“Get up,” I demanded. “Get up, you salacious witch! You deceitful little worm! Get up!”

I reached down and grabbed her by her arms to pull her up, and then I whipped her against the wall and squeezed my hands around her long, slender neck. “You came into my home to destroy my family, killing my mother, and now you think you can take my father away from me, too?”

“Syl! What in Oblivion are you doing?” My father found us in the corridor and ran to us, grabbing me by the arms to pull me away. He practically threw me at the Seducers that had followed him, and they held me tight as he went to help Alanwen. She sank to the floor, coughing for air, but I hadn’t been able to choke her long enough to kill her. Muurine had just happened to show up as I was chasing Alanwen, so she stood by and watched the scene, taking in every little detail for the latest gossip.

After checking on Alanwen, my father turned to me, glaring coldly as he marched up to slap me across the face. “How dare you attack my fiancé, you ungrateful little wretch!” He stopped and continued glaring at me, and it sent chills down my spine. He had never looked at me the way he did just then, and it reminded me of the way he had always glared at my mother before beating her.

“Get out of my House,” he said, gritting his teeth just to keep from hitting me. “You are not welcome here any longer!”

My heart ripped in two. He was disowning me. He was abandoning me, for the woman who had murdered his wife? How could he do this? How could he choose her over me—his own daughter?

“But…Ada….” I reached up to him, pleading with my eyes, but he turned away.

“Go. Before I change my mind and have you thrown in the dungeon for this treachery! You have cut me deeply with this betrayal, Syl. Leave now; do as you please. But don’t come back to this House until you are ready to obey me, and accept my decision.”

Muurine stepped through the Seducers, who had released their tight grip on me. She took me in her arms, and whispered softly, “Come on, Syl. Come. You can stay with me, and Uncle Leo. Come.”

I let her lead me out, but I felt numb and betrayed. I thought my life was over that day, and a part of it was. I was no longer Ada’s faerie princess anymore. Alanwen had finally won. He was all hers.

This post has been edited by Lady Syl: May 23 2011, 06:16 PM