Torment Story: The Boon

The Boon

Why are you looking at me like that, pretty man: like you do not a-member me, as if you do not understand why you are here? You seem to fear me now; you cover from my gaze, you turn away so you will not have to look at Ravel anymore. Something has gone wrong I think… or perhaps you are trying to trick me… for you were not this fearful of me before.

Alone you came a-wandering here to my black bramble garden, a curious figure in this waste of grey. Ravel knew you were a-coming to see her, and told the branches to open up for you… told the thorns to leave you unharmed, instead of tearing the flesh from your bones and let your remains lie and rot in the garden, like so many others of your kind who have sought her through the ages. Mayhap that would have been a kinder thing… sting? …sting to you, if my pretty brambles were now feeding on your decaying corpse.

”Grant me a boon, oh great Ravel...” you pleaded with me. So full of a-fear were you; fear meandering all over your handsome face, fear shining from your eyes, fear quivering on you lips… but not fear of the great Ravel, it was. Oh, no. A promise you had made, a contract signed in blood, scared you more than even I could.

Ah… you shake your head… you do not a-member that either. You signed away your own afterlife, foolish creature, to fight in the Bloodwar! Why, I a-wondered, would you do such a thing? With what did they tempt you? Was it riches, power or simply carnal pleasure you were promised? But no, you are a different sort… not an easy one to tempt. Ravel thinks she has puzzled it together now… for she has learned that you crave knowledge like a drunkard crave his next bottle of wine. Yes… you were promised a-knowledge, were you not?

Still your eyes look empty, uncomprehending like the ones of an amnesiac. Mayhap my gift was too costly then, and you are not playing games with old Ravel after all.

No small boon was it you asked of me, pretty thing. Many have come here: creatures from every plane, even demons and devas… all of them wanting to pry the answers to Ravel’s riddles from her… all of them bringing gifts and promises to lure her with. I took what they offered, I laughed in their faces, and they left knowing less of my secrets than before… or ended up as nourishment for my brambles. The truth is… I could not have told them much even if I wanted to, for my mind is a thorny maze and a puzzle even I can not… knot? …knot unravel on command.

You… did not bring anything but yourself to my door… but what a precious thing I thought you to be: one who looked at me without disgust radiating from every facial expression, one who promised to love Ravel, to stay with Ravel in exchange for her gift. What a peculiar promise it was, not like the ones I had heard a-fore, but not one I believed you intended to keep. Still, I would grant you the gift… mayhap for the sake of curiosity… or to free you from the chains you had entangled yourself in… or simply to steal a prize away from the greedy devils that had trapped you.

I allowed you to stay here with me and learn from me, so you could prepare to receive the gift. Ravel studied you, she taught you, and she came to love you, as one loves an intelligent pet. I wanted to keep you forever here in my garden… so many things could I a-teach you, you would never be bored, my pretty thing….

No, do not fret, and do not look at me… the look in your eyes now is an ordeal to see. Before, at least you could hide your repulsion. Look away, and be still, for soon I will have finished talking.

When I thought you ready, I cast my spells and I watched you while you fought with yourself. I saw pain a-forming lines on your face that were not there before. You were close to losing the battle, so I used a thorn to prick your skin… a-drawing pretty patterns for your protection, with my own blood as ink. Though Ravel’s hand was not her own in that moment, for the pattern I drew was unfamiliar to me: an ugly pattern, agonizing for the eyes to look at. I thought we had a-lost, but instead your mortality gave up once I had finished pricking, and it left your body, a-screaming in agony where both of you. It was gone before I could catch it, for the thought of your pain distracted me.

I have kept my word, pretty man, I have helped you forget how to die… though it seems you have forgotten much else as well, and now you are a-caged in your own ignorance. I will not hold you to your promise… I can not… for that too would be to cage you, and now I find I can not stand to see you trapped further… I…have already helped you snare… shear? …shear yourself too much.

Go now… go seek yourself, find your memories. Ravel sets you free. Run away, pretty, hollow man, and enjoy your… boon.