Ruby

Yolie:

I'm sitting on the window landing, It has become my favorite place lately. It's already Sunday again. Patrick knocked on my door and asked muttering under his breath if we were going out today. I said no. I'm just not in the mood.
The chapters of the Grimoire these days have been a kind of chronicle on the advance of Alex's military campaign against Persia. The Sorceress speaks of him with growing admiration and looks forward to his arrival in Babylon. Everything seems to indicate that the cave where she lived is right at the top of one of the mountains that surrounded said city.

Someone knocks on my door and I turn surprised because it is open. Alex is reclining against it. Looking at me with a serious face. He hasn't tried to touch or kiss me again and I know very well why.
—I was told you’re not feeling well. - He whispers. - Are you still having a fever?
—No. My temperature is erratic. Now I'm having bouts of cold sweats and my muscles feel heavy. I think I really did catch dengue.
He purses his lips almost imperceptibly.
—Are you spending the whole day locked in your room?
—Why do you ask? Do you have plans for today? - I murmur.
— Not precisely. There is something I would like to show you. Would you come with me, please? - says offering me his hand.
I close my eyes into slits. This polite and apparently kind Alex gives me a bad feeling.

000
He opens the treasure room with his crucifix-key and we get inside. Everything is exactly as I remember it. I roll my eyes.
—What do you want to show me?
— I want to give you something. - He whispers behind my back.- Choose an object and it will be yours.
—Are you trying to buy me again? - I bark sarcastically.
—No, but since you've given up your day off and spoiled the surprise I had for you ...- he growls. - Well, I had to make a change of plans.
—Surprise? - I murmur. Looking at him over my shoulder. - What surprise?
—Now you won't ever know. - He smiles, showing me all his very white teeth.
*Harrumph!*
Walking passing by me, he activates the folding curtains, illuminating every corner of the treasures room.
—Choose an object and it will be yours.
—Is there a size limit? - I ask, fixing my hawk eyes on the pharaonic statue. With all that gold I will never have to go back to work.
— No. Whatever you want, regardless of its size, will be yours.
I feel a great desire to jump on him and scream that he is what I want,that I don't care about any of this. That I don't need any of this. But I hold back. I've resisted his temptations until now, I won’t waver.
Advance among the ancient treasures I think of what could I possibly choose, I could go for a rug. Pffff . Now I think I'm Aladdin? And... How about a diamond necklace? I shake my head. Too cold. I look at the chests crammed with golden goblets, jeweled swords, pearl necklaces, bracelets and Egyptian crowns, emeralds and sapphires.
—Can I choose a chest and everything inside it? - I say maliciously.
—That's cheating, but yeah. I will allow it this time.
I sigh in frustration. So much opulence and gold short-circuits my mind.
I turn to Alex.
—What would you choose?
He looks at me with sparkling eyes and an openly carnal expression. Licking his lower lip, his fangs begin to become visible, protruding from his upper gum.
—Don't you know? - He asks hoarsely.
I bring my hands to my hips and make a face at him.
—Save your fangs, wolfy, this Little Red Riding Hood is not afraid of you.
Alex throws his head back and laughs like a hyena, then dries the laughing tears that have jumped from his eyes.
—I adore your witticisms, precious. You are highly entertaining.
He coughs with laughter, tousling his curls with his fingers.
—Come on, don't make me beg. - He frowns. - Or is it that you want it all? Mhm?
I stick my tongue out at him, striding away from him. Pondering the multiple options. The precious fabrics? Uh ... nah. Coins from the fourth century before Christ? No. A Greek amphora? Arrgg!
I hear a murmur and look around for Alex. He’s near the door holding a black bow which grip is made of an impossibly intricate carving. He tenses it with his left hand and points a nonexistent arrow in my direction.
—Did you say something? - I shout in his direction. He shake his head in denile.-Be careful with that, Cupid. - I warn him.
He smiles mischievously, blowing me a kiss. I shake my head and look for the corner where the murmur is coming from.
A dozen small golden chests rest on a table. Among them there is one that simply stands out. It’s carved in wood and is the smallest of them all. The closer I get, the more the murmurs intensifies. I frown. It is as if dozens of voices whispered at the same time with words I can’t decipher.
I open the lid of the enigmatic box. Inside, a jewel rests on a bluish pad. It is small, teardrop-shaped and red… A blood stone. It’s attached to a delicate and very thin golden chain. Clenching my hands into fists, I look around, brazing myself in an attemp to fight the chill that has run down my spine . Is it cold in here or am I hallucinating?
Slowly I bring my index finger close to the gleaming stone. Inside it, a fog seems to swirl. The tip of my finger brushes against the hard surface of the ruby and thunder explodes inside my head.

000

**The Macedonian conqueror dies. In court and on the streets I have heard rich and poor, noblemen and slaves alike whispering the word poison. Long ago I gave up the ridiculous idea that he could be my apprentice, he does not have the disposition for the noble art of using magiks. He is too impatient a man, too intoxicated with power, too conceited.
He does not seek a higher purpose than taking over the whole world, he does not give his life greater meaning than writing his name amongst the heroes of yesteryear. He compares himself to Achilles and it is ironic. The mythical demigod fell because of a weak heel, the Macedonian warrior will fall because of his own mortality.
**
I'm in what looks like a palace bed chamber. On the a bed, made with reddish sheets Alex lies, sweaty and looking terribly ill, his eyes are sunken and his skin is extremely pale. He vomits incessantly inside an amphora held by a tired-looking slave. His fevers do not abate, his abdominal pain does not subside and death haunts him.

—You're finally here, witch. - He snaps through his teeth. - My plea and promise of riches wasn't enough to soften your heart, so I was forced to send my servant to fetch you.
Shackles imprison my wrists and ankles, an iron collar tightens my neck. I'm completely disheveled, dirty and bloody, as if I had fought with tooth and nail against a lion or a bear. I’m wearing very outrageous clothings, my dress appears to be made of interwoven silks and it leaves nothing to the imagination. My breasts and the triangle of hair between my legs are practically exposed.
—All the gold of Egypt nor all the silver of Babylon can save you from what the gods have decreed, Hegemon. Today will be the last day your heart beats, I have seen it happen and the prophecy is true.
—Save the ceremonies and do something! - shouts Alex angrily, vomiting into the vase and groaning.- There is no healer more skilled than you in all the kingdoms I have conquered. Make some concoction for me. Make the poison leave my body and I will make you immensely rich. - He promises between his teeth. Large beads of sweat have formed on his haughty forehead and start rolling down the sides of his face.
**How do I explain to him that he has not been poisoned? That he dies due to an incurable disease for his time. That his body wears out quickly and that there is no remedy for the evil that afflicts him.**
I move my hand a short distance over his body without touching him, checking his critical status with my senses.
— It is not your body that has been poisoned, my Lord. It is your spirit. It’s been poisoned by your lust for power.
Your body and your spirit fight and the latter has begun to leave the world of the living, that is why you struggle between the flames of the Underworld and the calm waters of the Elysium.
—I can't die now. Damn it! I still have a lot to do. - He mutters, grinding his teeth.
—You have already achieved all the glory and all the power that is allowed you. Your purpose was unattainable. You are delusional. No man can rule the whole world, many tried before you and many will try when you are gone, but one thing is certain, you all have something in common, your efforts are in vain. You are all doomed to fail.
—I do not believe you! - He roars. - Have you been bribed by my enemies? Tell me how much you have been paid and I will triple it. Take her chains off, Hephaestion. - He orders.
— Master, it’s dangerous. She could try to escape. - Answers the soldier in which fist rests the end of the iron chain that connects my collar and shackles.
—Do as I say. She won’t escape. When presented to suffering souls on their sick bed she is bound by an oath to do everything possible in saving them.
The soldier obeys and in minutes I'm free. I massage my aching wrists and neck.
—Let's strike a deal, witch...Your life for mine. - Alex gasps.
The soldier draws his sword and presses the sharp edge of it against my neck. I look at him and... Patrick! It's him, no doubt.
—Come on general. - I whisper. - Cut my neck, separate my head from the rest of my body. Unlike your master, I am not afraid of death.
—Oracle, I beg of you. - pleads the man, removing his razor-sharp sword from my jugular and kneeling before me. - Save my King.
The stricken tone of his voice makes me consider the possibility of stopping the Macedonian's fate.
—What you ask violates all natural laws. If you want to stop death, you will have to pay the terrible consequences. Your king will stop being human to become a monster, he will be a demon which must feed on the blood of others to continue to exist. Will you accept these conditions?
—Yes. I agree. If it is a victim for the ritual that is required, I offer myself as sacrifice. – The general says offering me his own sword with both his hands.
I turn to the dying man.
—If you accept this new life you will lose everything you already have. You will see your mother, your wives and your children die. You will have to pay a very high price. Is this what you want?
—Yes, don't delay any longer, witch, my strength is failing. Begin ... the ... ritual ... at ... once ... - he gasps.
**Self-centered and selfish idiot!**
—Bring me a goblet and a dagger. - I order.-Also, make your slave go.
The slave is sent out. The general leaps to his feet and searches for the needed objects with impressive speed. He hands them over to me and I start the chant.
—Blood, stop your flow, heart stop your work. Body you will not return to dust. With fire of blood I heal you. With fire of blood I condemn you to live and have died.
I place the cup close to the Hegemon's face, a drop of his sweat rolls and falls inside.
—Water.
Placing the cup in front of his nose, his breath fogs the inside of it.
—Air.
With light steps I approach the embers on which a concoction was prepared hours ago to try to alleviate the monarch's suffering. Taking a handful of the ashes I throw them into the cup.
—Land.
I return to the bedside, ask the captain to hold the glass for a moment. Grabbing the dagger I opened a cut in the palm of my hand. I take off the necklace that connects the shooting star to my neck and place it on my bloody palm, closing my hand into a fist. Large tongues of a purple fire emerge from between my fingers mixing with my blood and hot, burning drops fall into the cup.
—Blood and fire. -I whisper.
I open my hand and the wound is gone. The general gapes at me, dumbfounded. I put the star-stone necklace back around my neck and taking the cup I climb up to the bed bringing it to the pale and cracked lips of the dying ruler.
Alexandros is weak. In the last few minutes his eyes have closed and he is barely breathing. I haphazardly get him to swallow a sip of the concoction I’ve prepared in a haste.One tiny sip will do.
—Will he be saved? Will my king wake up strong and victorious in the morning? - asks the general anxiously.
—No. Your king will die tonight. I already told you, he will lose this life and everything he has in it ,except you.
I hand him the cup.
—Are you still willing to give your life for him? - I ask.
—Give the order.
—You don't need to die, not now at least. Go out now and announce that my medicine has taken effect and that the king is asleep. Go through the camp and select a warrior similar to him in height and features. Don't wait too long, your king won't survive two hours. Kill the soldier you select and dress him in the robes of the Hegemon. You must hit the soldier's face after covering it with a pillow or cushion, this will cause great inflammation in the features and will make it difficult for the change to be discovered. Will you do as I have instructed you?
—Yes, Sorceress. - The general responds reverently.
—Once your lord’s body is supplanted, wrap him in a carpet and bring him up to my cave. The contents of the cup is dangerous. Store it in a jar. If you are truly willing to serve your master in his next life when you bring his body to my cave, I will tell you what to do next...
Patrick contemplates the remaining liquid inside the glass. Yoleandra takes out a tiny, clay jar and pours the concoction into it, very slowly.
—Do not attract undue attention to yourself or delay going up to my cave. Is it understood?
—Yes ma’am.
000

I wake up suddenly, finding myself sitting on the floor, cradled in Alex's arms. He rocks me back and forth while sobbing in distress.
—Forgive me. I swear I didn't mean to hurt you. Oh, forgive me.- he said, kissing my forehead convulsively.

I frown. What the hell has...?

Jumping to my feet, I start walking from to and fro while Alex looks at me with a confounded expression. He remains sitted on the treasure room’s floor.
—I've seen it. - I say in response to his inquisitive look. - I have seen how you died and the ritual Yoleandra carried out to convert you.
—Oh. - He whispers, pressing his lips together and avoiding looking me in the eyes.
I look back at him askance, narrowing my eyes and placing my hands on my hips.
—Don't play dumb Alex. You did it on purpose. I don't know how you knew. I don't know how you found it. But that necklace, that thing ... - I say pointing to the ruby inside the wooden chest. - Somehow it made me have that vision.
He bows his head repentantly and sighs almost inaudibly.
—Are you going to tell me what the hell is going on here? - I snort enraged.- It's one thing to read that book, which frankly scares me sometimes and quite another is to come into contact with cursed objects that make me hallucinate!
Alex stands up slowly. Looking at me, his expresion serious, his body tense.
—It's not cursed, on the contrary, it is the most powerful healing talisman that exists and it is yours, or it was, in your previous life.
—So, I didn’t really hallucinate? - I screech.
Alex shakes his head.
—You simply relived an important moment of our... common history.
—Simply? - I mumble. - Is there something simple in all this?!
— You're right. All this is anything but simple. - He sighs in exasperation, putting his hands inside his pants pockets.
— It was a trap, wasn’t it? Your offer to give me an object, was a trap. You wanted me to find the star- stone. Didn't you?
He grabs me by the shoulders suddenly, lookin into my eyes, searching for something in them.
—What did you call it? - He asks nervously. Softening his grip and going from my shoulders to my elbows.
—Star-stone. I remembered that that's what the Sorceress used to call it.
—You. That's what you used to call it. You are both the same person, you must come to accept it.
—Answer my question, Alex.
—You were required to find it, yes. That kind of talisman cannot be given, it must always be found, even if it was yours from the beginning.
I bite my lower lip, putting my arms around me. I’m feeling cold again. Alex draws me closer with a delicate pull. He kisses my forehead and squeezes me into a fierce hug against his chest. He's so warm and smells so deliciously that I simply stay in his embrace for a few moments.
—You gave me a big scare. - he murmurs against my forehead. - You screamed and fell to the ground, almost broking this hard little head of yours against the lid of a chest. I arrived in time to hold you for the merest of seconds.
Alex kisses my forehead and I let him, I find that I’m terribly weak right now.
—How long was I unconscious? - I babble against his white shirt.
—An hour.
He strokes my hair and kisses my forehead again, nervously. His tight hug is cutting my breathing, his grip is too tight.
—A ... Alex ... - I protest raggedly. He loosens his iron arms and I breathe through my mouth a few times trying to fill my lungs.
—Forgive me. - He whispers against my hair.
—What for?
—For putting you in danger to achieve my selfish purposes. - His words are a barely audible moan.
—Promise you will never scare me that way again. - He kisses my jugular and I tremble. Oh, I’ve misses having close.
—That necklace and the ruby have been in your possession for a long time and there are more things you continue hiding from me, right? - I ask cynically.
—Yes. - He interrupts his kisses, looking me in the eye.
I step out of his arms, slowly, taking the golden chain which hoods the problematic ruby and place it around my neck.
—Since you don't trust me, I don't have to promise you a thing.