Chapter 92 - Promises

Ryan was terribly tired of walking. If he could, he would choose to hold up in his bed and not move a muscle for at least an entire week. Alas, like most things in life, things were not going his way. Just like the room he was in earlier; this space was equally as massive. He had been walking for hours with nothing to see but the white puffy clouds and the green grass gently swaying in the warm breeze.

Stopping at the base of a small hill, Ryan decided to take a break once he climbed to the top. For some reason, his stamina wasn't nearly as good as it was while he inhabited the meat-puppet. Even though he was certain he was inside an illusion, it would seem that he still grew tired like he would in reality. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he trudged up the slight incline, keeping his eyes on the ridge of the hill.

Looking down from the top of the hill, Ryan shielded his eyes from the sun and let out a tired sigh. Things were just getting more and more confusing. Although he wasn't sure what he was expecting to see while he was stuck in this place, a small lakeside cottage was not very high up on his list.

Sunlight was reflecting off of the rippling water, making it look like a rolling sea of precious gems. Tall deciduous trees dotted the landscape around the half-moon shaped body of water, their leaves were deep green and shaped like palm sized stars. A short, rickety pier jutted out into the water, a small rowboat was moored to its side, bobbing up and down and bumping against the wooden pilons.

A cozy little cottage set back from the water some fifty feet, its front door facing the opposite side of where he was looking. A stubby stone chimney was producing a slim flow of smoke that was being carried away by the breeze. Suddenly, Ryan thought that he could smell freshly baked bread, making him salivate no matter how much he told himself that something was wrong.

Cautiously, he made his way down the grassy hill and toward the cottage. He kept his eyes on the wooden structure, just waiting for someone to come out, but they never did. Smoke continued to churn out of the chimney, the smell of baked bread and other goods were getting stronger the closer he approached. He could only hear the sound of the wind winnowing through the trees, and the lapping waves, breaking over the small pebble beach directly to the side of the pier.

There were no sounds of any animals, not even insects could be heard buzzing about. He'd noticed the incongruity on his march here, and it was only being amplified by the oddness of everything laid out in front of him. Maybe whoever had made this illusion, no matter how realistic it was, was not skilled enough to replicate living things and all of their complexities. Or maybe they just didn't care to? He didn't know, but as he reached up to knock on the cottage door, he was sure he was about to find out.

"Come in!" A clear, calming voice came from inside the cottage before he could even touch the door.

Ryan hesitated, taken off guard by the sudden invitation. He was hoping to find someone that might be able to explain what was happening, but when suddenly faced with what he had wanted, he suddenly wasn't sure if he really wanted it.

"Please, come in and make yourself at home." The voice rung out again, the tone itself was inviting and soothing to the ears.

"Oh, al…alright." Ryan stammered before taking a deep breath and opening the front door.

Once inside, he was assaulted by many different savory smells, much more than what he could smell from the outside. A small table, big enough for only two chairs, sat calmly underneath a single paned window. A down stuffed bed took up residence in the far corner of the single roomed cottage, its pristine white sheets pulled tight over the mattress. A quaint, wood-burning stove took up almost an entire wall, Ryan could feel the heat radiating off of it from where he was standing by the front door.

But the thing that demanded his attention the most was the woman that was standing in front of the churning stove, humming a happy song that he was not familiar with. She had long, golden hair hanging far past her waist, swinging back and forth as she moved along with the tempo of her humming. She was dressed in a sleeveless, pale yellow sundress with frilly lace lining the bottom hem. A simple, white apron was tied around her waist and was covered in flour, pointing out the messiness of the baker wearing it.

Turning around, the woman locked eyes with him. Smiling the most beautiful smile he had ever seen, she spoke. "Please, take a seat. Dinner is very nearly ready."

She motioned to the small table underneath the window, causing Ryan to turn back to it. When he had walked by it initially, it was devoid of any dressings; but now, it was completely set with all of the cutlery and fine china one would expect to see at an evening meal. Ryan timidly pulled out a chair from the table and took a seat, keeping his eyes on the woman who turned around and continued cooking.

"You're the woman from the ice, aren't you? What is this place? Where am I?" Ryan asked, trying to keep his accusatory tone from breaking through.

Stopping her fluid movements at the sound of his voice, the woman turned to face him, a sad smile spread across her face. "Yes, that's right. I know you must have so many questions, but please wait until dinner is ready, I'll answer whatever it is that you want to know."

Not waiting for a reply, she turned around to put the finishing touches on their meal, leaving Ryan to wallow in his own thoughts.

…..

"Now, go ahead and dig in. Just know that it's been so long since I've had any visitors that I'm afraid I might be a little rusty in the kitchen." The beautiful woman said as she motioned to the feast that was currently sitting on the table in front of them.

There was the freshly baked bread that Ryan had smelled on his way to the cottage, as well as a perfectly roasted duck resting on a bed of leeks, its oily skin shimmering in the sunlight streaming through the window. A crisp salad with dark, leafy greens filled a large wooden bowl. Accompanying the greens were an assortment of colorful, chopped vegetables that included tomatoes, peppers, and carrots among other things. Casseroles of different kinds sat off to the side, each one tempting him with their mouthwatering scents. Finally, there was a deep pie, filled with tantalizing caramelized apples, still baking in the oven.

Everything was cooked with extreme skill; it was all fit for a king. Ryan had to hold himself back from following her lead and devouring the spread she had offered to him.

"What's going on here?" He asked instead of filling his plate with the irresistible food.

Nodding her head, not looking put out at all due to her guest's question, the woman brushed some of her golden hair behind her long, pointed ear before answering. "Well, let's start off with introductions, shall we? My name is Amaranthae. What's your name?"

"You're an elf?" Ryan blurted out before he could catch himself.

"Well… yes. Is that a problem?" She asked, cocking her head to the side.

Seeing the overwhelmingly cute gesture coming from the woman, Ryan blushed in embarrassment and infatuation. "No, no, of course not." He said in a fluster. "It's just that the only other elf I've ever met was the old, grumpy librarian."

A soft giggle escaped Amaranthae's rosy lips. "Rest assured, I may be old, but I am anything but 'grumpy'. After I answer all of your questions, you'll have to return the favor and answer a few of mine as well, if you don't mind."

Nodding his head, Ryan agreed, feeling much more relaxed around the woman than he had at first. "Right, of course. First off, my name is Ryan. It's nice to meet you… Amaranthae."

Hearing his cordial reply, a radiant smile spread across Amaranthae's flawless face. "Now, to start, yes, I am the woman that you happened to come across. And before you ask, unfortunately, I don't know the circumstances of my imprisonment."

Ryan furrowed his brows. "What's that mean? You don't know why you're in the ice?"

Looking down at her hands, Amaranthae almost seemed embarrassed. "I don't remember. I don't remember anything after that day. I was just walking through the forest, like I did every day, talking to the spirits that lived there. I stopped to rest at a nearby spring, then… nothing." She took a deep breath before continuing. "The next thing I remember is being cold, so terribly cold, I almost couldn't stand it. It took me a very long time, but I finally created this place; a place I could escape to, to get away from the cold."

Ryan slowly shook his head, nothing she was saying made much sense to him. "So, this place is…"

"It's all in here." She said, tapping her forehead with her long, slender finger. "You're a mage, correct?" Seeing Ryan nod, she continued. "Good, then think of it as a separate plane, but instead of a physical one, one for your soul. Over the years, I discovered that I couldn't use my magic in any meaningful way while being trapped, but I could still use my mind to sense my surroundings. Utilizing my mind, it was only a matter of time before I was able to create this place, my own little paradise."

"If you were able to sense your surroundings, then could you tell what was going on around you while you were imprisoned?"

"Well, yes… at first." She spoke. "For the first little while, I could feel a great many souls around me, all doing different things. But eventually, they all went away, I couldn't even sense the air around my cell anymore, it was like everything had vanished. I thought that maybe the world had finally come to an end, up until I felt your soul making contact with me."

She looked Ryan in the eyes, her face full of relief, and what looked like longing, longing for another. The look made his heart flutter, and his face turned red as a wave of different emotions washed over him. From the way she was talking, she had been imprisoned within the magical ice for an untold number of years. It was actually quite surprising that she was still sane after so long, alone, and isolated.

A deafening silence fell over the small table, neither one of them had yet to sample any of the dishes. Ryan was in his own little world, trying to process everything that he'd just heard, while Amaranthae was worried about overwhelming the first person she'd talked to in ages. Moving silently, Ryan smoothed out the wrinkles in his academy robes.

'Let's say I believe you." Ryan finally started, putting on his best poker face. "Why would anyone want to capture and imprison you? And what about your body? The state that it's in wouldn't be what I would call great."

"Nothing lasts forever." Came her sad reply. "Even entombed within whatever it is that keeps me here, my physical body will still decay and die. Why whoever done this to me just didn't kill me, I'll probably never know, but I can still guess as to why."

Leaning in closer, Ryan was hanging on her every word. "Why?"

"Because of what I am, and what I can do." She spoke. "I am a High Elf, one that communes with the spirits of the world. I'm also a master of healing magic, able to heal otherwise fatal wounds instantly, even able to bring those that had recently died back to life. Who wouldn't want to study me, try to steal my secrets and keep them for themselves?"

"That should be impossible." Ryan said, thinking deeply to himself about what she had told him. "Bringing someone back from death would tear their soul apart, there would be nothing left to resurrect."

Amaranthae smiled wide, even though the young man in front of him suggested that she was lying. Leaning forward herself, locking her deep, violet eyes with his plain brown ones, she spoke in a deep, sultry voice.. "Help me break free from this prison, and I promise that I'll teach you many things."