As always, the Sorcerer was right.
A few days later, I saw the Patron’s Daughter as soon as I came into the trees.
She was clearly waiting for me, impatiently pacing back and forth. She had dark circles under her eyes, marring the perfection of her face.
“What took you so long?” she demanded.
“I didn’t know I was meeting you for a walk. Last time I saw you, you seemed angry-”
“Will I need to bring money or jewels?” she interrupted.
“Excuse me?”
I felt like an idiot for not considering payment.
I knew what the Sorcerer wanted from the Patron’s Daughter, but she certainly didn’t know what she was walking in to.
“To pay him!” she snapped. “What are his terms?”
“I don’t know,” I replied, thinking fast. “But that’s not a bad idea.”
There are no words to describe the sweet relief and exquisite terror I felt in those days approaching that night.
On the eve of the holy day of rest, the Patron’s Daughter agreed to sneak out after dark to meet me at the edge of the Ancient Grove.
Even her tyrannical father didn’t dare dishonor holy days to make us work.
I remember there was absolutely no suspicion on her face as we made our plan.
The only risk at this point was getting caught.
If our absences were discovered, the Patron’s Daughter would be ruined.
But I would be doomed.
On that day before my liberation, I was worthless in the fields.
I couldn’t sleep the night before. As much as I had dreamed about my liberation from servitude, I had no plan for it and no idea what to do with it. I certainly couldn’t come back to my parents after selling my heart and the virtue of the Patron’s Daughter.
The night before my destiny was to change, I realized I wasn’t ready.
I was so panicked, I considered the coward’s way out, leaving the Patron’s Daughter to wander the Ancient Grove alone, looking for the cabin.
But I had come too far to lose faith now. As terrified as I was of an unknown future, I still met the Patron’s Daughter in the Ancient Grove.
She had to jostle my arm to get my attention because I didn’t see her at first. She wore a long, dark cloak that covered her face and form, blending her in amongst the dark trees.
She, too, must have had the fear of detection.
It was so dark that night.
I looked for the moon in the sky through the trees. Either it was a dark moon, or the trees of the Ancient Grove were so thick, it was impossible for any light to shine through.
But I was still able to guide her through the trees.
The Sorcerer must have had a fire burning in the hearth, for I caught the aroma of smoke before I saw the glow through the only window of the cabin. But that did nothing to warm the chill inside me.
My heart pounded on our approach.
For a moment, I hesitated.
The thought crossed my mind that this would be the last time I would feel that inner pulsing. Good thing I didn’t spend too much time reflecting on that in those weeks leading up to this night.
It’s a tremendous decision to sell off my essence, my life force, all so a being like the Sorcerer of the Caverns could be immortal. If I had pondered on the sheer magnitude of it all, I likely would not have been able to go through with it.
As it was, in that moment, I knew that everything I had always known would come to an end.
Although that was certainly true, this was only the beginning.
My first adventure in life would begin that night. And my first adventure would be by far the most bizarre.
My darling Shepherd, that is a mighty statement to make at this juncture in my life after more than forty years of decadence.
My hand shook when I knocked on the door.
A gruff voice from inside bid us to enter.
I opened the door, and in my nervousness, I forgot to step aside to usher the Patron’s Daughter in before me.
In this particular instance, however, the oversight of etiquette towards one’s betters was a miracle that saved me.
I almost fainted when I saw him.
Although I didn’t know what to expect when I walked inside, I was shocked at the sight of the Brute who stood before me.
Instead of the long black robes and a face desiccated from the passing centuries, the Sorcerer had transformed into a beast of a man.
He had the physique of a carnival strongman, coarse black hair, beady dark eyes, and the crudest features I had ever seen. His thick lips curled in a grimace of amusement when he saw the look on my face.
I felt the blood drain from my head at the sight of him.
The Brute was anything but seductive.
He was repugnant and my doom was certain.
