The Dragon King’s Substitute Bride
Chapter 91

HERA

Nothing happens.

I take the first step and then the second and when I look back I can still see Arydian small and tiny beside the largness of Midas who is still watching me with a look akin to worry on his face. Did something go wrong?

Why is it not working?

But before I can voice out my complaints, I decide to take a third step.

One more.

Just one more and if it does not work I am turning around and going back.

So I steel my nerves, rub my sweaty palms against the silk of my dress and take another step forward.

But the brick walls do not fall away or disappear and I feel disappointment wash over me.

So I decide to go back.

And when I turn around they are indeed still there.

Except now they are no longer alone.

Where there were once two, there now stands a third person.

I gasp, my hand flying to my chest when I realize what is going.

The third person... is me.

Me before I stepped into the alley and unto the path.

I see Midas turn to me, the other me.

And even though they are too far away I know exactly what he is saying.

Because I have lived it before.

As I look on, I notice that I am beginning to have to squint to see them clearly.

They appear to be getting smaller and smaller, more hazy and unclear with each passing second.

And I realize that time is moving around me.

The path is going on even though I have remained standing.

I tell myself not to panic even though that is the only thing my mind wishes to do.

Be calm, Hera you can do this.

The sooner you replace what you came here for, the sooner you can get back

Except I do not even know what I am looking for.

Or even how to get back.

Stick to the path.

That is what Arydian said.

So I start walking because what else can I do?

Somewhere along the way, the once cobbled stone alleyway beneath my feet has become a single path that looks more like hard packed dirt more than anything else. The brick walls have faded.

There one minute, melting into nothingness the next.

And now it feels like I am walking through a giant dark cloud.

One filled with voices.

Loud and incoherent and unending.

I strain my ears, trying to make out what they are saying.

"Hera!"

I turn sharply to the left.

The direction from which I heard the voice.

"Midas!"

Another voice cries out in response.

I recognize the second voice because it is mine but it does not come from my throat.

The swirling dark clouds fall off.

And I see myself being dragged unto a clearing, Hermani's arm wrapped around my neck.

The events from earlier today.

It feels strange but I look on. Mesmerized and unnerved.

A silent observer into my own life.

I move on quickly.

And the scene fades behind me, swallowed once more by the cloud of darkness.

I realize something with each step I take further into my past.

If I pick out a sound in all of the chaos and focus on it, consciously or subconsciously, the image and event associated with that sound suddenly appears before me. And I end up having to watch the scene play out until I decide to start moving again.

And through it all, it matters little if the scene takes place indoors or outdoors.

The path, dark and like rich, loamy earth, remains in all of them.

Passing through the changing landscape and scenes unaltered and straight as an arrow.

"The king is in the kitchen."

The maid who had been sent to lure me.

I immediately grab at the sound.

Just in time to see myself run into the kitchen.

It feels strange. Watching myself walk into a trap and my first instinct is to shout out. Warn the other Hera to back away.

But before I can do so I see them.

The one who tried to kill me.

I see them step out from where they had hidden behind the open door.

And I see them push me.

Anger, hot and heavy rises in my throat as I watch myself fall to what would no doubt have been my death.

But I do not see their face.

Even in the memory, the kitchen is too dark and they are wearing a cloak with a large hood.

I could pull it off. I want to pull it off.

I want to reach out when they passed by me and yank it off their head.

Maybe drag their hair along as well.

But as I stretch out my hand, I realize that I am too far away and that to touch them, whoever they are, I would have to step off the dark path.

But Arydian's voice pierces through the haze of my anger.

Loud and clear almost like he is beside me.

"Whatever happens...do not step off the path"

So I sigh and pull my hand back.

Hurrying quickly onwards before I can change my mind and go back.

My walk is mostly fascinating, inspiring both awe and deep seated panic.

Awe because how is this even possible?

And fear because...how is this even possible?

But it does not hurt.

Nothing grabs at my heart, threatening to tear it out.

Until the path takes me back home.

Until I hear myself ask my mother if she would not mind letting me take the geese to the capital for her.

I shake my head. Try to stop myself for seeing it.

But the image only sharpens.

It feels like a physical punch watching myself, my brother in one hand, geese in another, turning my back on my family for what will be the last time.

I yell at my mother to get out. To get everyone out before the Ryders come.

I even yell at my old self to stop being such a coward and turn around.

But no one hears me.

I almost step off the path then.

Whatever happens do not...

"Goddamit Arydian!!"

I hurry forward. Past other images.

Grabbing at every sound desperately, opening up each memory.

Unable to bear the pain yet unable to look away.

My brother and I running through the streets, laughing as we ducked and weaved to avoid the merchant chasing afer us.

My grandmother and my sisters in the hut as we sat around the dinner table, Laughing and yelling.

The sight of our once plush manor garden and the picnics we would have the days when my father remembered that he actually loved us more than gambling.

My family, whole, complete...happy.

The tears toll freely down my cheeks.

The hardest part of it all is not seeing them.

That is not the part that makes it feel like my heart is being ripped out of my chest.

No. It is seeing them and being unable to touch them.

And in all these memories I can see things I did not know had happened.

Like the time I thought I had been secretive enough to slip out of my vegetables, not knowing all the time that my mother knew.

Or the fact that my brother had been hiding behind the passage on the day I was called to the throne room in Averia. That he had been watching, crying as I was led weeping into the chambers where I would be prepared for my marriage to the dragon king. If I had only raised my head and looked back.

If only...

It is beginning to get harder and harder to remain on the path.

I want to run to them and hug them and tell them all the things I wish I could have said earlier.

But I dig my nails hard into my palm and the pain helps me stay focused.

I see myself growing younger with each step.

Until...

The night of my birth.

The fear on my mother's face and she grabbed desperately unto the hard of a much younger version of my father.

"Elias...Elias...I cannot do this."

"You mustn't speak like that Helena"

It has been many moons since I have heard the names of my father and mother spoken out loud.

I step as close to the image as I dared without stepping off the path.

My mother shakes her head, tears rolling down her cheeks.

My father wipes her tears and I can see his heart breaking for her "Do you regret it?"

She shakes her head even harder. "Never and you should not either Elias. We did what we had to do."

"Even though it meant promising your first child to be used by the Fates?"

I gasp out loud. Slapping my hand over my mouth before remembering that they can neither see nor hear me.

My mother is silent, thinking.

"You were going to die Elias. When I took you sick and bleeding to the messenger of the Fates in she told me you had been predestined to die, that it was your Fate. I had to make a choice and I thought.... I thought I would be fine. But what if..." And at this point her voice cracks, her grip around my father's hand tightening desperately.

"What if the messenger was wrong and they intend to take my baby away from me, what if they want my baby now...what if I never get to see her, hold her..."

"Helena...

"I know what you are about to say. That I am being irrational."

"I was not..."

But my mother is no longer listening. "What kind of mother trades off the life of her own child. What kind of a mother does that?!"

My mother had always been a strong woman.

Stubborn and relentless and with a heart the size of Averia's capital.

To see her like this, broken and weeping...

It does not just hurt, it burns.

And without knowing it, I start to go to her.

I step off the path.

Almost instantly the image fades.

I look around in confusion but by the time I realize my mistake and try to correct it...

I realize that the arrow staright dirt path is gone.

Disappeared beneath my feet like it was never there.

And the moment I realize it, I start to fall.