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The Guilded Cage, Ch 14

Broken Heart, Broken Mind

Jace had met the Governor only once in his life; it had been many years past, back when his brother had won a particularly high-profile exhibition match and was brought into a small room and told to wait; since there hadn't been a place for Jace to go, Dylan had brought him with. Suddenly finding himself face-to-face with the incredibly powerful Elf, the be-all-end-all head of St Almar, the young Lion didn't have the slightest idea of what to do... and the fact that he was alone made it all the worse.

He thought back to what his brother had done and, thankfully, Dylan spoke up, the blade at his side creating a soft, comforting, reassuring tone in his mind. "Relax. He is a good man, Jace. Remember how he helped us last time? Bow to him, and tell him you are honored for the audience."

His brother's guidance helped him break through the paralysis of indecision and the young Lion went down to both of his knees, leaning over until his forehead touched the carpet of the small meeting room. "Thank you, Mister Ohl--"

Dylan quickly interjected "Governor, not Mister."

Jace made the correction immediately. "Thank you, Governor Ohlnoryah. I'm honored that you wanted to see me."

The Governor didn't respond right away and, as the silence stretched uncomfortably the young Lion finally looked up; the Elf had taken a seat in an armchair. Casually leaning back into the padding, Governor Ohlnoryah was watching him with indecipherable intent, almsot as if he were trying to figure out a riddle, which made no sense since Jace knew there was no reason to hide anything from the Governor; his brother had trusted the elf in every way.

Even as the chain of events passed through his mind like a caravan of carriages, Jace watched the Governor's calm, serene expression and the sky blue eyes gazing at him. There was compassion there... and sympathy... and.... sorrow? The Elf's mouth finally opened, and, although his lips moved, the voice that entered Jace's ears was not so much spoken as conveyed; it must have been magic-- he remembered the same thing last time his brother had met with the Governor. "You cut your mane."

Jace remembered Dylan saying something about a wound the Governor had sustained well before either of them had been born; the injury to his neck kept him from speaking, but Ameil's grace had given him a new voice. He felt an ephemeral nudge from his brother's sword. "This is where you respond, Jace. He spoke to you."

Still looking up from his place on the floor, the young Lion nodded. "Yes, Governor... I cut my mane myself."

The Elf remained stoically passive, continuing to assess him as if trying to uncover a secret of some kind. "You used to wear it longer."

Jace shook his head hesitantly, uncertainly if he should argue with the Governor or not. "Um... no, Governor, Sir... Dylan always told me to keep it short because of fleas and lice."

The statement caused the Governor's left eyebrow to raise. "I see... and by Dylan, you mean..."

The young lion fidgeted. "Um... my brother, Sir. He... when he was in the arena people called him... um... 'Talon'."

Something about the statement had caught the Governor's interest, but Jace wasn't entirely sure what. Dylan, through the sword at his him reminded him "He is a good man, Jace. Answer his questions and be truthful. If he called us to him then there is a reason, and he can help you."

After another long pause, Governor Ohlnoryah gestured with his hand. A small end table not far from Jace slid a few feet closer and a delicate ceramic cup, which had been upside down, turned right-side-up; a moment later it filled with tea. Jace recognized it immediately: lemon mint; it had been Dylan's favorite. Letting out a long sight, the Elf ran his long, thin fingers through his luxurious, long, golden hair. "You had disappeared after your brother's passing... I was so sorry to hear of it."

Jace tensed up immediately, images going through his head of the race across the roof tops. He had been in the lead with his brother a short distance behind. He felt tears welling up despite Dylan's encouragement to remain strong. He somehow managed to speak, despite his throat threatening to close up with emotion, though he did have to pause for a moment between words. "The Lawgivers were.... were supposed to leave us alone."

The Governor nodded slowly. "They were, yes."

The Lion wanted to accuse the man; he wanted to let the grief give way to anger and wanted to stare him down and demand answers. He'd lost a brother-- the last of his family, and he'd been all alone ever since that night. Still, he knew innately that the Governor was not at fault; he was practically a prisoner himself. In the end, he managed to force out a single word. "Why?"

Whether he'd prepared for and anticipated the question or had so much empathy that he could decipher the meaning behind the enigmatic inquiry, the Governor answered it accurately. "The Temple of Norr knew you were helping me, Talon... many of the Lawgivers are still loyal to the Ameil, but many more are blinded by the words of Norr. I... I am truly sorry."

A single tear slowly rolled its way along the soft, smoothing curve of the Governor's perfect cheek bone before finally falling like an abandoned lover leaping from a bridge. Jace didn't have the energy to correct him; Talon was his brother, not him. Feeling his own tears well up, the young lion only nodded. "Me too... I-- I wish I could have done something to help."

The memories came flooding back despite Dylan's cries for him to leave them burried; the sword at his hip reminded him that he had to look forward, not back; the time to grieve had passed and survival was most important. Yet, for all the times he'd listened to Dylan over the years since that fateful night, the young Lion chose not to, and he let those memories wash over him, embracing the pain and wallowing in the helplessness he felt in that moment-- the fear-- the shame.

Governor Lehanalos Ohlnoryah stood, and approached the Lion. Still wading through the seconds leading up to losing his last family member, the beastkin simply remained on his knees, eyes staring straight ahead as he relived that moment: the feel of the night air, the shouts of the Lawgivers as they picked their way across the roof tops. He and his brother were not weighed down and it was easier for them to travel quickly. Jace had been barely twelve but Dylan had taught him well-- he was in good shape and, on some occasions, he even beat his older brother when they raced. That night wasn't a casual race, however, and the stakes had been high.

They'd almost made it to the slums and, from there, they would be able to blend in with everyone else, disappearing from view and make their clean escape from the Lawgivers. Dylan had been helping the Governor with-- it was never fully explained, but it had been important. There were those among the Lawgivers who sought to restright the Governor's powers, but the Elf was not willing to be a puppet and he took steps to gain his independence. Those opposing him, however, attached his tools, and that included Dylan and Jace. The roof top chase ended when a section of roof gave way, sending one of the Lion brothers through the wood.

He knelt down, reaching out as far as he could, hoping he would be able to grab his brother's paw, crying and shouting, telling his sibling that he was needed-- there was no way one of them could make it alone. His brother had always been the courageous one-- the selfless one-- the hero. The words still echoed in his mind. "You've always been the strong one... I just slow you down. I love you, Dylan."

Jace jumped at the name his brother had spoken. At the same time, the Lion felt the Governor's gentle embrace fold him in loving succor. The Elf knelt down with him, whispering softly in the voice that wasn't his. "Shhh... grief is powerful, my Child... but we will face it together."

He felt like he wanted to struggle-- every fiber in his being cried out to resist. Something was wrong; why wasn't Dylan helping him? The sword at his hip was supposed to provide him guidance; his brother was supposed to tell him what to do. He couldn't do it alone. The one word that escaped his muzzle came out as a mew. "No..."

He'd said that in the moment too, gazing down at his brother, hanging at the end of his arm. Paw-in-paw, they stared into one another's eyes. Eventually Jace couldn't hold on any longer; his brother was so much larger than he was and a young Lion couldn't possibly maintain his grip for that long. Dylan had fallen, and it was all his fault. Even as he fell, his brother looked up at him, that too-young boyish cub face actually smiling; Dylan could still imagine reading his lips: "It's okay."

The Lion's eyes were watering uncontrollably, tears falling down his furred cheeks and matting the High Priest's robes as the Elf coddled him, squeezing him tightly in an embrace that soothed with the same warmth that burned him; his memories were becoming clearer and, as he choked back a sob, it all snapped into focus, and the pain of the memory increased significantly.

Dylan raced across the rooftop, shouting back to his brother to keep up. While Jace had done incredibly well learning how to dasha cross the tops of the buildings of St Almar, the young Lion had only ever done one or two at a time and, even then, he'd been under the watchful care of his older brother-- unfortunately, being chased as they were, Dylan had to focus forward and pick their path as they attempted to get away. That lack of focus led to a poorly placed jump and the next thing Dylan knew, Jace had fallen almost all the way through a warehouse roof.

Skidding to a halt, Dylan threw himself back to his brother, landing hard on his abdomen and latching onto the little Lion's wrist, grabbing him right before Jace fell to his death several stories down. He was exhausted-- they both were, but he pulled with all his might, straining as he heard the Lawgivers draw closer. "Come on! Up, Jace! Climb up!"

Jace was crying, coughing, and wheezing all at once. "I... I can't!"

Dylan promised himself he'd pull for both of them. "Yes you can! Now PULL!"

They tried once... then again... until Jace, still gasping for breath, stopped crying. Letting out a sniffle, the cub simply murmured "Dylan... you have to go."

Dylan shook his head, knowing what Jace had in mind. They'd had the discussion often enough; they were the last members of their family and, if it came down to it, Dylan had told Jace time and time again that, no matter what, he had to survive. If Dylan was about to get caught, he wanted Jace to keep on running. It was never supposed to go the other way around. "No... I... I can't go on without you. I can't do it alone, Jace."

The little Lion just smiled up at him, "You've always been the strong one... I just slow you down. I love you, Dylan."

Dylan felt the heartache tear his chest open the moment his brother let go of his wrist. Already exhausted, Dylan realized he wouldn't be able to hold on. "No, Jace! Nonononono! Don't, I-- I can't--"

The sound of the small body impacting the stone floor some three stories down echoed through his memories as surely as if he'd just heard it. Tears streaming down his cheeks, Dylan couldn't deny it any longer, but he couldn't let go of the one thing that kept him going. "It... it should have been me... Jace should be here. Not me."

The Governor's tender embrace tightened just a little and a gentle hand made soft circle against the Lion's back. "He is not, Dylan... you are. But now I know what happened... why you disappeared."

Dylan also understood, despite not wanting to. It was easier when he was gone... when he was just a sword, guiding his brother, who was alive and well. It didn't matter that he was almost thirty and Jace would have been sixteen; Jace should have been alive. It was a silly thought, he realized, and face-to-face with the reality, he didn't understand how he could have been so deluded-- how he could have convinced himself. How unwell had he been? Leaning against the Governor, the Lion still had trouble coming to grips with the past four years, and a single thought continued to bounce around in his mind, gaining strength until it came out as words. "Can you... bring him back?"

Governor Olnoryah slowly drew back, compassionate blue eyes gazing deep into the Lion's; they were damp, flowing freely with empathetic tears. The Elf slowly shook his head. "I cannot, my boy. It would be selfish and wrong to bring him back to this plane of existence. He is content in his eternal reward."

Dylan felt his ears perk. "Have... have you spoken with him then?"

The Elf closed his eyes, slowly shaking his head. "No, Dylan... but I am attuned to the Ever After, and I can feel these things-- some spirits remain tied to this plane when they cross over, and some do so willingly, leaving unfettered and separating themselves entirely as they embrace what comes next."

Feeling fresh tears fill his eyes, the Lion pulled away. "So... he is really gone?"

The Governor slowly stood, holding a hand out to Dylan. "He has been gone for years, child. He does not need saving... but I can see a Lion here who does. Will you allow me to help you?"

Dylan raised his paw, but did not place it in the Elf's outstretched palm. "Will you... help stop the pain?"

Shaking his head, the High Priest knelt back down, placing the outstretched hand on the Lion's shoulder. "I could not... nor would I if I could, my boy... pain is the proof that love is indestructible-- it can survive anything. I could not remove your pain without removing that love... but I can help you channel it-- find meaning, and gain strength in what it is your brother has left you."

Slowly standing, Dylan was willing to challenge the Governor. "Pain is all he left me, your Holiness. There isn't strength in pain."

Raising his spare hand to the nasty scar along his neck, the Elf smiled softly. "Bearing pain with grace and dignity is not easy, Dylan, nor is losing a loved one. Only the truly strong can do both, and I believe you have that strength... and so did your brother. Will you give us a chance to be proven right?"

Silence once again filled the meeting room but, after what was well more than two minutes of inaction, Dylan pulled away. "Yes... but on my own terms."

The Governor didn't stop the Lion from leaving; they both knew he'd be back.