Echoing Memories Prologue

I woke in dark and coldness. My arms were bound by rope, hugging myself. My legs and ankles were free, however. As was my mouth.
I heard the sound of tapping water echoing where-ever I was. Underground, I assumed. Perhaps the castle's dungeon.
And the thoughts flooded me.
I remembered Titus ordering his men to take me away as I laid on the verge of unconsciousness. His shouts were bitter, angry, and so was he.
It had been a cold, grey day, but perfect for an attack on the castle. I met to sneak in through the back entrance, perhaps disguise myself as a cook or simply a peasant.
It was terribly unlucky and stupid to find the King himself waiting for me. Several of my men, unbeknownst to me, had been captured and tortured within the hour. They told of my location.
Titus welcomed me, even offered I'd stay for supper. I rudely declined him, though, when I brought my sword to his neck and demanded the crown from atop his head.
He wasn't no coward, no! Before a king he was a warrior, and before that, a hard-working ironman. Compared to him, I stood weak and amateur.
It was easy for him to have his own blade against my neck and me in his arms. I remembered clearly what he had whispered into my ear, far too passionately.
"Why do you do this?" He first questioned, but I did not answer. "Why don't you just come with me and live peacefully among fortune?"
"I don't believe in what you do!" I had shouted, my words breaking and my eyes glittered with tears. He forced my head slowly sideways, uncomfortably and painfully.
"I don't believe you should be king of this great empire! Of this nation brought together by those peaceful! You murderer!" Tears flew as I tried to shake my head. "You heartless demon!"
Titus brought his armored elbow against my face and knocked me to the ground. Pain coursed through me, but I managed to kick his knee and bring him down with me.
By this time, soldiers had been called. Two or three grabbed my arms and forced me to my feet. Another helped the King up.
I cursed, I cried. My plan had failed. I hadn't even a chance to watch him suffer!
"Take her to the dungeon!" His cry echoed through the stone room and back at us. He slapped my face, angry, yes, but just hard enough to knock me unconscious.
"If you see anyone of the likes of her, send them down too! Fail me this and you'll see yourself dead!"
What terrible words to have pierce through a darkened and numb mind.

Tapping water. I saw a faint light at the end of a long hall. I crawled to it — I tried to crawl to it, but fell into metal bars.
I was caged, perhaps left to die. Third time was the charm.
But the words did not ease me. I fell to the ground in sudden horror. Eldridge had given me three chances to kill Titus. This had been the third try, and it was simple hesitation that brought me to my knees!
I could have killed him as soon as I laid eyes on him! I could have sliced his head right off and taken it in remembrance! Oh what joy it would have been.
But I didn't. He looked at me with eyes full of love and pity. He took me in his arms like he had did so many times before, and I didn't kill him.
My face was at the dirt ground. Tears fell and pathetic screams were drew from my lips.
I cried for Eldridge. I begged for him to come to me — to come and rescue me like he had always. I swore under his name, never God's. He was my God.
But after the wails, there wasn't anything. The dripping water continued. Beside that, occasional falls of rocks and the crackling torch down the hall were the only sounds.
Eldridge did not appear.
I pressed myself against the cold bars, still screaming and crying. My hands struggled behind me, and my legs kicked hopelessly.
"Let me out!" My voice was loud, but not loud enough. "Let me out! Let me out! Let me out!"
I felt like a child after she had been sent to her chamber. I had no power here. I had no weapons and my words would certainly get me nowhere.
But these who I fought against were much more merciless than parents. Much less caring and loving, and the death of their children I doubted they would even turn a shoulder!
My echoes ceased quickly. I fell silent and suddenly heavy and tired. My head still rested against the bars.
As soon as my eyes closed I heard a voice.
It was quiet and didn't mean to startle me, but it still did.
"Comparing all this to a child's life?" It questioned. "How cruel. You are in far worse than a child who simply spoke against her parents."
My head snapped up and my eyes opened.
Beyond the bars stood my savior — my God. Eldridge was standing tall in all his glory. He was dressed in his usual upperclassman wardrobe. A decorated suit and a glittering cape with heavy, matching boots. His long, brown hair was tied back elegantly and brushed. He did not fit in in a dungeon at all.
"Eldridge!" I shouted, "Oh you have come for me! I am forever in your debt." My head fell sadly, even in a blessed moment.
"Who said I have come for you?" His demeanor was not as soft or kind as it was usually. I didn't think it would be.
"Obviously you have," I stated, keeping my gaze lowered. "Unless you're simply here to pity me. I deserve it. So stupid, Eldridge! The third chance and...and I've failed."
His presence softened. So slightly I only knew because I had been around him so long. Anyone else would be oblivious.
"Yes, I am here for you," he admitted, near silent. "But I gave you three chances, Cecilia. Before I set you free, give me a reason I should remain by your side."
He motioned to me when he said the latter. My lip trembled, but I was not able to cry again. I had cried too much already.
Eldridge allowed me to ponder. Neither of us could bare what he had just said.
"Because—"
"Look at me when you speak."
I did so. "Because I am one of the few left who still lives by my empire's beliefs. But yes! I have killed! I have! I should be put to death! But I have to kill Titus before I am! Please, Eldridge! Save me!"
I wanted to take his hand and kiss it. A sign of respect I was taught by. But my own hands were behind me, numb and swelled.
Silence. He stared at me and I moved my gaze from his. I couldn't bare it. Golden eyes pierced my skin.
He vanished and my hands were unbound. I only looked ahead when I was on the other side of the cell.
"Thank you," I whispered, but it went unacknowledged. Eldridge took me in his arms and I fell into blackness again.

I awoke to a shining sun through a window draped with red curtains. They blew in the light wind this morning.
I was on a large bed, tucked in with heavy, expensive blankets with fancy designs. I was in Eldridge's bed — in his house.
I had been there, right there, so many times.
My throat was dry and my eyes were heavy and still tired. I didn't have to call for Eldridge right now. I was safe, alive.
I thought about what Titus would think about my third disappearance. If I got caught again, I would probably be chained and sentenced to death within moments. He had already started to learn. God knows where I had been imprisoned.
But I wouldn't get caught. I didn't want to think about it. Perhaps I wouldn't even try again.
My head ached with the words. I closed my eyes and slid deeper into the cushion.
I saw a glass of water upon a wooden table next to the bed when I decided to awake minutes later. I quickly reached and grabbed it, and drank all the liquid hastily.
I heard from the doorway then, "How are you feeling, Cecilia?"
I set down the glass and looked at Eldridge. He had lost his cape and tunic, and stood in a simple white shirt and brown pants. "Thank you," I whispered breathlessly, water dripping from my lips. Those were the only words I could manage at the time. Perhaps I was thankful for his rescuing me, or his love, or even simply the glass of water now gone.
"Enough," he demanded, stepping toward me. He worked to button his sleeve, taking his gaze from me. "I do not stride to have humans throw themselves at my feet. I asked you—"
"Yes. I am well. But...terrible. I am terrible. I had to have you save me again. Once too many times it has been." I stared at the shiny sheets I was surprised hadn't been dirtied by the grime upon my skin. I felt my face, and felt washed skin. Eldridge had washed and redressed me. A child I was.
"Perhaps you shouldn't—" he paused, stepping around the bed to me. He reached and took my head. "Perhaps you are not suppose to kill Titus."
"Not suppose to?" I didn't mean to snap at him. "Why do I have you, then?"
"I am here to watch over you," Eldridge said, calming me with gentle strokes of his fingers against my cheek. "I was instructed to do so because you earned me, Cecilia. I am to aid you until you find total peace."
"And that might be my death?" I whispered.
He nodded kindly.
"Why three chances?"
"I was given three chances to give you. Murder and vengeance do not guarantee my staying. In fact, they limit it immensely."
"Eldridge," I said, leaning in to him. His arms slid around me, comfortingly. "I do not want you to leave me. But I need Titus dead!"
"You have to understand, though, you may have not been the one chosen to kill him!" He wasn't angry with me, he just didn't want me continuing.
And I didn't. He did; "God may have chosen someone else. You must understand."
My sweet silence was broken, "If God knows who is to kill Titus, then why did he send you to aid me?"
"I am not here entirely for that," he stated. "I will repeat, I am here to look over you."
"I understand, Eldridge, I do. But why even give me the chances in the first place?"
His dark eyebrows upturned and he looked at me hopelessly. "I don't know. I know you have certainly heard the old statement 'God's ways are mysterious'."
I nodded, taking his hand and finally kissing it. Large but smooth. He was such a perfect creature, but I expected no less from one of God's Angels.
"I'm thirsty," I whispered.

I remained in the bed most of the day. Bruises were upon my legs and arms where the soldiers had dragged my limp body to the dungeon. My hands shook more than usual, and I had difficulty writing.
In scribbled, shaking words, I wrote of the entire yesterday — or days ago, I still wasn't sure. It looked terrible, and Mother would be disappointed to see it, but I wrote it all.
I have rewrote what I wrote those years and years ago, so that modern English may understand. I will tell you of how I, Cecilia Ginny Borden, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Augustus and Elizabeth Borden killed the King Titus of Kingdom Piax.
But not only. I will tell you my life. My loves, and my losses. As well as my encounters with creatures beyond death.
I have seen Heaven, and I have certainly seen Hell.