Icon Niall Brown Illustration

The Seventh Labour

by Nal Borryn

Rain.

Rain was splashing above his head. Breaking his slumber.

Pitter patter. Pitter patter.

Wet. He could smell something wet.

Maybe wood?

Pitter patter. Pitter patter.

And wind. He could hear wind humming a rattling tune through a ceiling.

It must be wood.

Whuuuuuuuuummmmmm, sang the wind.

Pitter patter. Pitter patter.

Where was he?

His pupils moved, but his eyelids were leaden.

Amor shifted where he lay. It was soft.

He tried slowly to move his head and a tearing pain shot through his neck and shoulder instantly like a knife twisting inside his muscles.

The nobleman whimpered in agony and lay still.

He was now too afraid to move any part of his body. He just lay there breathing in the warm air.

After some time he resolved to try to open his eyes once more at least to see where he was.

His eyelids flickered again. From his side, he could see the fuzzy shadows of what could have been walls and a floor.

Browns and dark greys were slowly turning into solid shapes as his gaze expanded. The pain was absent now if he moved slowly.

Warm fur covered his body, gently prickling him. He was mostly naked except for clean rags which were tied across parts of his body almost like bandages.

Bandages...

They were for his wounds. For his…

Bites.

The devotee.

Where was she?

He opened his eyes, instantly awake. With a gargantuan effort, he tried to push himself up onto his elbow. His body trembled under the weight.

Now upright, he was able to see what had previously eluded him.

The walls and floor were indeed real, and made of wood. His instincts had not deceived him. He appeared to be in some kind of cabin, but it looked more like a worker's shed than a peasant's hovel.

The floor was covered in thick brown fur which could have once been worn by deer. The wooden beams were uneven but made of gnarled, rough bark. Was it pine? He wasn’t sure if he'd ever seen such trees in his native home.

A broom and a walking staff were propped in the corner along with his torn tunic. Little remained of it except tatters but at least he still had his boots. They were there too, looking less dirty than he would have imagined.

Who had brought him here?

He was suddenly fearful. Was this the devotee's doing? He hadn’t expected to ever awake from his punishment in the cave. The last thing he remembered was the movements of the dancers, the sight of blood, the coldness settling in his bones.

And her smile...

His heart was filled with bullion.

Had she just given him a momentary respite? Before subjecting him to a new round of tortures?

His eyes swept the cabin again fearfully. Looking for clues.

Outside there was rain, more than rain it sounded like a gale. The pitter patters were becoming sharper. And the wind was now howling instead of humming.

Despite what sounded like an oncoming storm, inside the cabin felt strangely warm. As if a fire had just been lit though he could see no sign of one.

How long had he lain here?

He gingerly touched his shoulders and neck with his free hand. Pain still burst from his muscles as he tried to move, and his skin felt stiff and twisted.

But the wounds were not open, and there was even what he thought must be scarring. Though he could not twist his head to see.

How long could he possibly have been unconscious? For days? His wounds had seemed fatal in the cave, he knew of no healer who could have brought a man in his state back from the other side.

He wondered if he was dead already and whether the soul was supposed to bear wounds from the body. That would explain the change of location, though he had never expected that his clothes would make the journey to the afterlife with him.

Although never a pious man, he was fairly certain that this was not heaven. Alive or dead he must be careful and get his bearings.

The fur clothes in the corner would serve him well. If he had been taken in by a peasant then he would make the man rich beyond his imagination. Or his descendants if he ever returned to the mortal world. If not then his thanks would have to do.

Amor trembled as he worked his limbs into new clothes like a man 30 years his age. His belly also felt strangely full, the nobleman wondered how it was that he could have been fed throughout his recovery.

Did he just not remember?

Or was this her doing?

His mind now opened up to him and the events leading up to the cave now reemerged. He remembered the words of the devotee.

"She barely even knows you exist."

The memory pained his chest.

He tried to take a step forward, but the effort overcame him. Amor collapsed pathetically onto his knees and slumped over in the corner. Tears filled his eyes as he lay, disgusted at his own weakness. He dragged himself to the wall and held his head in his hands.

His body shook.

Could it really be true?

He had deceived himself so completely. What a pitiful creature he was.

How could he have let himself believe that she would ever choose him?

The most perfect being he had ever encountered. It was almost laughable in retrospect that he could have thought so highly of himself.

Her power was real, he had seen it. All the times he'd spoken with her. How could it not have been real? The devotees were indeed wondrous, he was merely a child compared to them.

But his beloved...

He stopped himself.

...The oracle had not chosen him.

What of her voice in the woods? Even with the awesome power of the devotees he was sure that he felt her presence differently, he could sense it. He had not heard her voice in the cave.

But what difference did it really make in the end?

The devotee was right. He had not been chosen. He would never be chosen.

He had failed after all, in everything he had set out to accomplish. Even the greatest ruler in the known world would not be worthy of her. How could he be fit to even look at her?

Tears fell into his twisted mouth as the truth washed over him.

While he had still held onto hope that she could love him he had felt able to overcome any obstacle. Now all that had driven him was gone.

Better he had been left to die in the cave. If he had been saved by someone here they had wasted their energy on a worthless fool.

He wasn't in heaven. He knew it now, he was in hell. His punishment was never to die but to be tortured for eternity with the knowledge that he had failed her and failed in everything. His weakened body was shaken with painful sobs as he lay there, without knowing for how long. He had stopped counting time.

Time itself had no meaning left. The stars could go out for all he cared. Now he wished he could have died in blissful ignorance rather than know the truth.

After a great while when he was sure days had passed, he sniffed and swallowed cold mucus.

The air was cold now.

The rain had stopped.

His eyes now looked up and scanned the walls. The light was there. It was daytime.

Amor clambered up on aching legs. Despite his weakness, he now felt somewhat better. Even with his drained body, he could still think. His torturer or carer, whoever they might be, had somehow failed to make an appearance.

He set his sights on the cabin door. Unlocked perhaps?

Only the fear of further torment made him scramble towards it, and tentatively pull on the latch. He almost willed it to be shut so that he could be resigned to starving to death. At least that would be less of an ordeal than having to face the outside.

But the door did open, and Amor now found himself staring at a blinding, white light.

His narrowed eyes tried to adjust as he stood before the vista. He stared gormlessly for seconds before it dawned on him what he was looking at.

Snow.

White blankets of snow covered all around him, only interrupted by cleft grey rocks. All at once, the chilled gale made sense to him. He was in the middle of frozen tundra, of what was probably a northern valley in mid-winter.

So much snow it confounded him.

He had only seen it once on his family's visit to Matterhorn, but never like this.

This was more snow than he thought could ever exist. It covered the earth like the iced cakes he had enjoyed as a young boy. He surveyed the white peaks and sunlit slopes. Could this really be hell? It was so beautiful.

Amor was so shocked by the unexpected view that he had momentarily forgotten how terrible his existence was and how miserable he was supposed to be. As he stepped out into the cold air, however, his gloomy mood returned and he found himself back in a subdued drifting state.

He noticed with disdain that while the surrounding peaks and valleys were white, the ground at his feet was slate grey. A small rain cloud must have passed just over his cabin, he would have welcomed it right then.

Amor stepped back inside the dwelling to make up his mind that he really did want to venture outside.

Resigned as he was, he was still fearful of who his attendant might be and felt he only had a short window of time to escape. Nothing about his condition suggested danger, but experiences so far had taught him not to expect good fortune in this place.

This place...

So far neither heaven nor hell seemed likely. It seemed he was still stuck in the world the oracle had brought him to, except now without her light to guide him.

He may as well be in hell if he was destined not to be with her. Was there ever a test? Was there ever anything real behind the trials? Or was everything he had undertaken part of some cruel game for the amusement of others?

"She barely even knows you exist."

The words of the devotee still weighed on him like an anvil hanging around his neck.

Amor stepped out further onto the grey stones, his boots scraping over the firm ground.

Surveying the cabin, he marvelled at how anyone could have carried logs and wood so far up to build a structure here. The only forest he thought he could see was miles in the distance and he could see no path to guide him down the peak, though the snow may have been obscuring one.

He was now near certain that his stay here was the work of a devotee or some other powerful being. If it was the devotee from the cave, he didn't want to stay another minute here.

Amor started out blindly walking outside towards the wild. Neither knowing nor caring overly about his destination, he just wanted to be away. Away from everything.

As the stone under his feet turned to crunching whiteness the dark cloud grew over him. And he set off pacing down the slope with the wind behind.

All had come to nought. Even if he somehow found a way out of this place, what life did he have to go back to?

His family villa and fortune would be squandered over by servants. Various noblewomen would try to claim a stake in his inheritance. His family name would be forsaken as he had never produced an heir and his brothers were either in exile or with the clergy.

Everything he had left he had given to her.

Everything.

The air grew colder as he made his way down the uneven slope. He dug his heels in and strode from outcrop to outcrop. The beautiful oranges and teals that glittered on the snowy peaks now appeared as muddy shades of grey and brown. He hated them for their beauty and preferred to look at the ground.

Cold snow crunched under his boots as he continued his descent.

Why had he been cursed like this? Better to die ignorant than be shown paradise and denied entry. Better to have believed a falsehood than forever be reminded of his own failing.

He had hoped that with this one thing he could succeed. Despite everything, if he could only have been with her once he could have died happy. Just to have seen her up close in the flesh would have been enough.

But no. This was his punishment.

He stopped on his way down the ravine and examined the edge where the snow ended. He was just a few feet away from a sheer drop, probably nearly a hundred feet down. Charred grey rocks bulged out from the soft whiteness, revealing the ground that lay beneath.

The snow was shallower here but the wind was strong.

He took a careful step towards the precipice and looked over.

Even from here, the snowy ground looked so soft, almost like clouds. The wind pulled him ever forward. If he were to fall here felt he would drift gently like a leaf in a storm and settle peacefully on the soft blanket below.

A few branches poking from the snow blew in the breeze as if inviting him forward.

It would be so easy to let go. No one would miss him after all, no one would ever go looking for him, or find him even if they did.

He had always thought of the ending as a violent act, but instead, he felt a deep sense of calm as he was drawn toward the edge. He was just inches away now.

The soft white bed was waiting for him.

Better, he thought, to vanish from the earth forever than to appear as a failure before her.

Just then a strong wind caught him and pushed him forwards. He stumbled but caught himself last second and jumped hurriedly back from the cliff edge.

His heart now pounded in his chest from the shock, and he was struck with awareness of his own vulnerability. He crouched to the ground, shaking and holding himself like a child.

Coward! He told himself.

There were those who thought choosing the end to be a cowardly act, but they were wrong. It took courage to embrace it. Death was not the easier choice but the harder one, it was life that offered the easy respite.

I must get away, he thought. His own weakness suddenly frightened him. He could always return if he needed to.

With a light chest, he turned and ran downwards, running from the fear. Found rockier protrusions for his cold feet, and followed what he imagined was once a path leading down to the whiteness below.

He walked further and further, not caring where he ended up or what his final destination would be. The forest was just a distant memory now, he would walk through the cold as long as he could.

The slope shallowed as he came to a group of hills and burrows that crowded around him. Snowy earth was now replaced with gravel and hewn rock. After some time their forms blurred together into an endless maze of ice. He stopped caring about finding his way back, and let himself become lost in the numbness of the cold air.

And he walked.

Snowflakes stung his face. The breeze had picked up now and more pellets were beginning to fall through the wind. The sun was still shining but the horizon started to take on a darker tinge that suited his mood better.

He kept walking.

There was no devotee. No voices in the wilderness, no notes or trail of clues left to tell him where to go. He truly was alone here, he felt it this time.

His beloved was gone.

He cursed himself again. Even after everything, the mere thought of her could still bring him happiness. Even if she hated him he could do nothing but return it with love and devotion.

To be in a love such as this was to be constantly in a state of intense pleasure and pain at the same time. He was doomed to forever be trapped in this prison of the heart.

Amor looked up from his dark mood and stopped still in his tracks.

All around him were white dunes. Small slopes and outcrops littered the landscape, the immense flatness interrupted by the faint ripples like a white ocean. He realised now the strangeness of the world he had been brought to and the sheer futility of all his efforts. There was nothing that quite reminded you of your helplessness like the power of nature.

A blizzard was now forming all around. Beating his ears and neck but in spite of the cold, he felt peaceful.

The mound he had stopped beside was frozen over with a sheet of ice, the like of which he had never seen in all his days. It glimmered in the light and he could see where the droplets had been forced to stop their descent. For the first time, he truly appreciated the sight of water frozen in time, never allowing the release of gravity that it had been promised.

Just like him.

For the first time since he woke a smile escaped his lips. It really was a beautiful thing to look at. He was glad that he was able to stand before it, if only for a brief moment.

He sank to his knees in the white ocean. The cold was all around him now, but it was a numbing cold, one that eased his pain. Not like the one he had felt inside the cave.

The shivering of his skin grew fainter, and the tingling feeling grew inside to consume him.

He no longer felt afraid.

He was ready.

Amor half closed his eyes and his breathing slowed. Now it was almost warm.

There was nothing left of him except a faint grey spec in the white ocean.

Wait.

He opened his eyes. Staring at the ice.

He could have sworn by every part of his essence that he had seen something inside the mound.

Something that terrified him.

The same ice covering of the mount he had just admired now filled him with horror.

Like a wounded animal he moved forwards. Trying to get a closer look at the surface. The nobleman's mind spun as he tried to see through the light bouncing off the ice. Another step and he would be sure.

Please no.

It was there, on the other side of the ice, unmistakable.

A face.

A female face, entombed in the ice.

No, no, no, no, no.

The fear lit a flame inside of him.

Amor wanted to run, but something about the face transfixed him. Her eyes were shut, and she seemed in the midst of a deep sleep. The mound obscured some of her features but even sleeping he could tell she was indescribably beautiful. Breathtaking but in a different way to most other women, even sleeping her expression was gentle and warm.

But it seemed sad.

Her features were so soft and elegant, with rounded cheeks and a small slightly upturned nose. Golden locks were suspended around her head and even with her eyes closed, he could tell they were beautiful.

He wondered who could have done this to her. What crime she could have committed?

Would he become trapped in the ice like her? Or would he just be another mound in the snow, never to be seen again?

His fate suddenly dawned on him. He didn't want to die here. He wanted to live. To escape. The thought of spending eternity in this place as a frozen statue scared him. He felt sad for the girl trapped behind the ice.

Without quite knowing why he did it, Amor reached out his hand to touch the ice sheet. Just to feel the prison that held her.

To his surprise, the ice was brittle, as if it were not real ice, but flint. Shards of it broke away when he pulled on them like soft rock and fell to the ground.

Though it required some effort, he found he could pull away pieces from the surface. His fingers throbbed as he touched it and glassy shards fell to the ground by his feet. Amor stared at the broken pieces. Slowly taking in what he had just done. And an idea slowly formed in the back of his mind.

His heart buzzed and he turned quickly. Looking around to find anything he could use. He tried kicking at the ice but it barely moved. He needed a stone, something sharp.

What if... what if…

He buried around in the snow, not caring about the numbness of his fingers and felt about. He kicked and his foot collided with an outcrop.

Could it be?

He reached down and tried to pull from the white sludge.

A rock.

There was a rock, just over the size of his fist.

He returned back to the ice mound, triumphant, and with rock in hand, he reached back and let the blow fall with a solid crash against the surface.

Rough shards splintered away as the rock made contact with the ice. It fell away in huge chunks.

The rough texture of the surface obscured his view of the face beneath but he could have sworn he felt the features move as he hacked at the mound. The ice was coming away in larger chunks and cracks appeared at the edges. It fell away like rotting wood.

He breathed heavily as he hacked away, cold sweat running from his forehead. He was conscious now of how deep he was penetrating.

Amor wondered if she was further away than he imagined, or if his plan would really work. Huge pieces now fell away as he continued his assault on the frozen prison.

He could no longer see the beautiful face. Could it truly have been real?

His fingers bled as he pounded the surface, again and again, willing it to be true.

Please let it have been real.

A large chunk fell inwards and collapsed with a thud to the floor of the cave. Cracks now spread through the mound and the walls crumbled. In seconds, the seemingly impenetrable sheet of ice was now tumbling downwards like a heap of sand.

Stunned he collapsed on one knee and tried to shelter himself from the ice blocks that were now falling over him. Large chunks crashed against his knees and shoulders. Shielding his head with his hands he pulled backwards and fell away from the cascade.

Amor landed on his backside, breathing heavily.

The crumbling had ceased but white dust clouds covered the side of the slope. After a few seconds, he lowered his hand from his eyes.

Slouched at the bottom of a pile of ice shards was the unmistakable grey figure of a woman.

Her silvery grey robe was now spread out over the pile, and her body was slumped, motionless like a doll. Apart from the rubble all around her, she bore no signs of someone who had just emerged from a frozen cell of ice. There was not even a scratch on her.

Amor approached her slowly with his chest pounding.

Please, he prayed.

Please let her be alive.

Gently he reached down and tried to put his arm around her to lift her up. She was light as he held her. With dread he held his hand to her mouth, praying with all his might.

He waited and waited, willing himself to feel something.

There it was, he was sure he had felt it.

Breath.

He moved his head close to hers, listening intensely. Trying to discern the sound of breath he had wanted to feel.

It was faint but there it was, she was alive.

Amor almost wept tears of joy that his efforts had not been in vain, and held her tighter in his relief.

But what should he do?

He shook her gently, but there was no response. Was she hurt? He could see no marks on her body.

Looking at her face now he felt the air pulled from his body. He was sure she was the most beautiful thing he had ever looked upon in his whole life. He didn't know how long he sat there amazed at what he now held in his arms, but in one moment he put them around her back and waist and scooped her up.

"The storm is worsening," He said to himself,

Her soft, motionless face shone back.

"We need to go,” he whispered to her, hoping she would understand.

The storm had indeed become worse without him noticing. The white tempest now billowed and blew all around him and his guide. Sharp white pellets now stung his face and the light that had previously shone was being smothered with clouds.

He put the rock he had used in one of his pockets and carried her body while he walked.

He set off in a direction he didn’t know, moving on nothing but a gut feeling. As he walked he could see her waving golden hair and her grey dress that blew in the wind, and felt moved by a singular purpose. Holding his companion he pushed through the storm and found himself straining over white mounds, ice crumbling under his feet. He was trying to reach back some of the way he had come, hoping they could reach the forest he thought he had seen before he’d taken a turn into this endless barren cold.

He held her close to his chest and tried to move his furs to shelter her more completely from the cold. Although she was small, her body was warm, and he felt its heat fill him with energy as he battled the wind.

Just as he was having doubts about their destination, the white banks faded and he found himself halting in front of a towering earth wall. Where, although covered in ice, he could see pieces of soil and roots breaking through, and the shape of trees far above. More sheets of ice barred the side of the mound.

Once more startled by his own actions, he placed her carefully onto the side of the slope and took off his fur tunic, leaving himself shivering in the cold.

"In here," he said to no one. Staring at the mound before him.

Once more taking the rock from his pocket he walked up to the ice covering the soil and started chipping away at the shards and ridges. Just like the brittle ice that had coated the mounds back where he had found his companion, the ice easily fell away under his assault as easily as dirt. And soon he was working up a sweat pulling huge chunks of ice away from the surface.

He brought down the rock hard and now large cracks splintered throughout the glassy wall.

He stood there and waited for something to happen.

With a sound so quiet it could have been lost in the wind, cracks grew along the edges of the ice. A crunching sound echoed out from the inside of the earthen wall. Amor stepped back, fearing that the whole edifice might collapse on the two of them, feeling foolish that he hadn’t foreseen this imminent avalanche.

Large chunks of ice now started to fall away from the cliff. Any one of them could have crushed his head in an instant at the right angle. And Amor started to become very conscious of his present morality.

The cracking ceased as quickly as it had begun, and through the dust clouds, he could see that an opening inside the earth had just been created. The surrounding earth wall had been covering the inside of a cavern, long since frozen over.

He turned triumphantly towards his majestic companion, slightly out of breath but wanting to share his achievement with her.

"In here," he said again, pointlessly gesturing at the ominous entrance as if he had performed no other service than the opening of a door. The nobleman carefully picked up the girl's warm body and ventured inside the dark opening.

Amor's heart danced, remembering the last time he had been in a cave.

The sensation was of stepping into a warm bath. Grey stalactites and ridges lined the cave walls, extending back into the opening that could have accommodated dozens of people. The far side gave way to a blackness that he could not see through.

He now felt his companion’s form against his own body, it felt heavenly to hold her so close. It gave him the strength to continue.

He laid her down gently in a corner that he hoped was comfortable enough. He checked her breath again just to be sure. It was still there, and stronger this time, he felt.

“I’ll be back,” he vowed and turned towards the entrance.

Fire, they needed fire.

It was warm in the cave, but it would soon be colder during the night and only fire would do. He was keenly aware of his own inability to make one but felt he had to at least try, and the only place to start was with some of the frozen roots he had seen along the sides of the mound.

He stopped before leaving and looked once more at his delicate passenger.

She was lying there with her head slumped against her shoulder and arms and legs by her sides. If he stared closely he thought he could see her chest rise and fall, which gave him comfort. Rather than someone in mortal danger, she seemed to be in the middle of an incredibly deep sleep, though he had no idea of what afflicted her. The same power that had trapped her in the ice must have made her like this. Whatever the cause and whoever she was, they both needed heat. Amor pledged to himself that he must succeed in this one thing. For once in his life, he would matter, if only for an instant. He would have made a difference.

He steeled himself and made his legs move once more to the raging vortex that consumed everything beyond the mouth of the cave. He was not ready to give himself to the storm just yet.

Keeping close to the mound he could indeed see the white tendrils poking out that must be the roots of trees above. Now only to find some that were thin enough.

He settled on one of them and heaved, pulling his weight against it. The frozen wood cracked but still held firmly to its parent tree. After a few blows from his handy rock, the root gave way, and Amor's chest filled with elation at accomplishing this simple task.

He still had no idea if it would burn, but he would try.

Continuing with his work he made his way along the mound. Hacking away at roots within reach. Although he quickly became out of breath, after nearly an hour he had gathered an armful of frozen roots and twigs.

His determination seemed to carry him forward, batting away the doubts that would normally assail his mind. He thought about her, lying in the cave.

He must hurry back, and be fast.

After gathering enough sticks, frozen leaves, and rocks, he felt confident that he now had some foundation that could support a fire. And started back in the direction of the cave.

The light was darker now, and the sky had taken on a blue-grey tinge as the sun faded. It would soon be night.

His heart was battling against his ribcage as he approached the cave entrance that he had made with his rock. Still pondering the extent of his own abilities, he rounded the corner of the mound.

Inside an orange glow now illuminated the entire cave. Shadows flickered and cast themselves along the crooked walls and there in the corner, sat upright, was his companion. Completely awake and now staring wide-eyed at Amor who stood at the entrance carrying a pile of frozen wood.

Her eyes were shining pools of grey that jumped out at him through the darkness of the cave. He hadn’t thought it possible for her to become even more beautiful than she had been while sleeping. He was unable to speak.

"Do not be afraid." She uttered. Her words seemed to penetrate his chest as they reverberated through the cavern.

She was sitting in a corner by the far side of the wall. Her hands clasped around the source of the orange glow that now lit up the inside. When she moved her hands he could see that there was a small flame dancing by the ground that she had just touched. But unlike normal fire, it curved and moved in ripples like the blue light on the island. Except this light was orange and warm, instead of cold and blue.

"Who are you?" He asked, staring back at her. Surprised at the resoluteness in his own voice.

After a pause, she answered.

"My name is Maitera." She turned away from him as she spoke, still trying to kindle the strange flames with her hands.

"I am a devotee."

Amor nearly dropped all of the wood he was carrying.

"A devotee?"

He had never, in all his time, seen a devotee who looked anything like this woman. The devotees he'd seen were all incredibly tall, intimidating, and rather expressionless. While she was just so…

Human.

He wasn't sure what to think about her.

"I'm a lesser devotee." She spoke softly, now looking at the flame. "My duty is to practice the rites, and to protect this area from outsiders."

The flames grew as she moved her fingers. Amor put the wood down carefully and walked towards her.

"Why were you trapped behind the ice?"

The question escaped him without forethought. For the first time, emotion entered the face of Maitera, the devotee. She seemed troubled by his question.

"Because I… failed in my duties."

She stopped and seemed to be considering whether to elaborate.

"You failed to protect these lands?" Amor quizzed, not wanting the explanation to remain elusive.

"No," Maitera responded quickly, "at least… not in that way."

She chewed on her words. The fire was larger now. Illuminating the cave without any apparent need for fuel. Amor stopped a few feet away from her.

"I was struck down and imprisoned, by another more powerful than I, someone who betrayed the cause."

"Someone more powerful?" Amor queried wondering what exactly could be more powerful than a devotee.

"Yes." She answered. "She is a devotee herself. She is the one who trapped me here."

Amor's mind now turned over, trying to understand the information he had just received.

"A devotee who betrayed the cause?"

He had never even considered that such a thing was possible.

"Her name is Lacrim." Maitera continued, "she turned against the divine one believing that she had been led astray. She disobeyed her will."

Amor inhaled deeply. He realised with a shock that this was the first time he had thought of the oracle since he'd come to the mound of ice. Now he felt guilty.

"How could someone like her be led astray?" Amor asked, aware of how naive he sounded.

Maitera shuddered. Her beautiful face filled with pain.

"There are choices she made, and people that she wanted to elevate that were resented by others."

She closed her eyes. Even thinking of it was clearly difficult for her. Amor had never known a devotee to display such emotion. He now wanted to comfort her and cease the questioning.

But Maitera had decided to continue.

“It is not for us to interpret the divine will. We only devote ourselves to her cause and try to serve her. But there are some in her inner circle, who advise her, who she confides in. Her power is beyond belief but she still needs her servants. Over time, there were those in her circle that came to believe that she had elevated others to an undeserving status and that she herself was misinterpreting the prophecies. In the end, they decided to undermine her and work against her wishes. I discovered this betrayal, that is why I was trapped here by her, by Lacrim.”

Maitera paused for consideration.

“I did not expect ever to waken from my imprisonment here. But now I have, and I find myself now before a stranger who has apparently come to my aid. So the first thing I should do before I continue is thank you. Whatever you did, it seems I am in your debt.”

She now turned to face him directly, for the first time since he had entered the cave. Her shining grey eyes reflected an orange glow.

“May I know your name? Kind stranger.”

Amor was still reeling from the torrent of information that had just been revealed. It had never once occurred to him that the oracle could be mistaken about anything, or that anyone who had seen her could believe her to be.

“My name is Amor, from the Gentile family.”

He realised his family name meant nothing to her and decided to continue.

“I came to this place as someone who wanted to serve the oracle. She came to me in a vision while I was living on my estate. When I came to understand who she was, I decided to give myself to her utterly, if only to experience the kind of life she could offer. I wanted desperately to give myself to her, and so I came to this place voluntarily so I could prove my worthiness to her.”

Amor paused momentarily, realising how pathetic his story sounded.

“I was given trials and tests in this place, to prove my worthiness, even as a servant.”

He now chose his words carefully.

“At least, that's what I thought I was doing. In the end, it seems the trials were not of her doing, or in any case, that I failed them.”

He wanted to weep as he spoke the words aloud.

“I… I know in my heart that I will not be chosen by her.”

Curse it, he didn’t want to break down again.

“But I at least wanted to stand before her, and be given a chance to prove myself.”

Amor finished with a slight exhale, feeling deflated, but ultimately better at having stated clearly his situation. He was now crouched next to her.

He looked up to find that Maitera had been staring at him, wide-eyed in fascination, throughout his whole explanation. He was immediately taken aback once more at how pleasant it was to be near someone like her. Something about her face was just so disarming, it was hard to think at all when she looked at Certainly, here's the continuation and completion of the story "The Seventh Labour by Nal Borryn": ```html she must have meant for you to be trapped in the ice like me.”

“She… She knew I would go into the storm?” His choice of location had felt as free as any while he had made it.

“I do not know what she thought,” Maitera affirmed. “But she knew you would likely eventually freeze in this place and be left confined. It was only by chance that you found me.”

“Then…” Amor was slowly coming to terms with his predicament.

“When you were with her.” Maitera continued, “you must have acquired some of her abilities through contact with her, though I don’t know how specifically. It seems that she got careless.”

Amor was still pained by the memories of his encounters on the lake and did not want to relive them, though they felt as though they had occurred long ago. None of his abilities so far seemed especially impressive to him.

“It is not easy to overcome her power.” The devotee uttered, and he thought he detected a note of admiration in her voice as she surveyed him.

He blushed like a child.

“But... Why does she punish me? Why did she confine me here?”

He was just now realising the true implication of her words. Lacrim didn’t speak with the voice of the oracle, if Lacrim had fallen out of favour with the oracle then that meant… That meant the divine one had not discarded him. That he still might prove himself.

Hope now filled his chest like hot water as he let himself ponder this alternative.

“I do not know.” Maitera seemed as puzzled as he. “My guess is that it has something to do with why you were brought here in the first place. The divine one clearly has some favour to be found in you, Amor. Maybe Lacrim took objection to this and is working to undermine her.”

Hope now positively radiated from him, as the devotee affirmed what he had just now only pondered.

“But why does the divine one not simply destroy Lacrim?” Amor was still struggling to understand the very concept of an unfaithful devotee.

“We do not know that either, Amor,” She replied. “We cannot truly understand her ways, maybe she hopes Lacrim will still make amends on her own. She can only help those who are willing to be helped.”

Amor nodded at the statement, feeling like some of his shattered foundation was being slowly rebuilt.

“Then… How do we get out of this place.” He gestured outside at the raging blizzard. “You are a devotee but I still need shelter, food, and drink.” His belly grumbled as he spoke.

Maitera seemed amused by his mortal requirements. “I can find some food for you.” She said with a smile that he found unbearably attractive. “And for shelter, you did very well by yourself.” She flashed him another, disarming smile that made him weak at the knees.

“I… thank you.” He replied dumbly but pleased with himself.

The sky outside was now a dark blue that was almost black, and the ethereal fire was the only source of light that they could see by.

“Wait here.” His companion climbed to her feet and eyed the entrance.

“It is late, but I will find you some food and water.” She stepped forwards. “Then we can sleep when I return.”

“Wait,” Amor suggested. “It’s dark now, we can wait until morning, I don’t want you to go out alone.”

“You need not worry about me.” His charming companion responded. “In this land and climate, I have survived for a long time. I will be back soon.”

Before he could object, she was walking in long strides towards the blackness of the storm beyond the cave.

“And Amor.” She stopped short before the exit, her orange figure lit up against the black sky.

“Thank you again.”

Her silken grey robes and serene expression then slid out of sight and disappeared into the night air.

Amor felt alone immediately after her departure and wished he could have gone with her, despite the danger. The fire and his fur kept him warm but he felt he could endure the hunger a while longer. He piled the roots he had collected onto the fire just to make himself feel useful. To his surprise, the roots ignited as if placed onto a regular fire, and burned with the same rippling motion that the rest of the flames exhibited.

He warmed his feet and hands by the fire. Comforted by their warmth against the blizzard outside. He lay on his side and let himself relax on the fur. It was so peaceful here like this, how he wished Maitera would be back soon.

When Maitera finally did return, with dead rabbits and ice water in hand. She found Amor sleeping soundly next to the fire with his head resting on his shoulder.

She carefully placed the food and water on the floor of the cave, tended to the fire once more, and then curled up next to the nobleman. Joining him in a deep and peaceful dream.