《The Fire of Felwing (Season One: Flicker) [Bi/Pan]》 Part I, Chapter 1 Solin of House Felwing Born in the 22114th Year of the Drakon Kings to Karrdil of House Felwing and Risayne of House Omayu, Is hereby exiled indefinitely And shall henceforth serve his sentence amongst our Gaian ancestors, To live as they live, and to better understand his crimes against them. By Order of King Karrdil of the Drakanthropes this 23275th Year of the Drakon Kings and the 2017th year in the Common Era of our ancestors

Part I

My father hates me, and my best friend is a thief.

Chapter 1

2017 Polaris, New York, Gaia
I stole the sunglasses with ease, unseen by any who¡¯d dare report it. The large?lensed mask reflected the busy downtown of a city I neither knew nor understood but was nonetheless stranded in. I hid my eyes and features behind those lenses and continued my prowl. I headed for the sidewalk patio of a bistro where a man with attentions diverted elsewhere would soon lose the hooded sweatshirt draped over the back of his folding chair. ¡°You gonna pay for those?¡± I stopped. Had I not been caught entirely unaware, I would¡¯ve fled, albeit into unknown territory with mere morning shadows and dubious dumpsters as my cover. I turned to face the source of the familiar voice, knowing I could not flee from them in my state or else I would be hunted. Sam smirked. Sunglasses concealed his brown eyes, and he wore the same style of casual garb I wore although he had more of a decision in it than I did. His tailored clothing came from finer cloth and perfectly fit his slender form. He gave me a dramatic once-over and smirked again. His brown hair had taken on some salt since we¡¯d last met, and his sun-kissed peach skin glowed. ¡°So, what brings you back here?¡± he asked in singsong. I waited for him to call for local or regional law enforcement. I couldn¡¯t be sure he wasn¡¯t here by their command. ¡°Couldn¡¯t have just had the hankering for some light shoplifting. Don¡¯t they have stores where you¡¯re from?¡± I glared at him, calculating the many ways to escape his clutches. Sam and I shared similar builds, although he stood slightly shorter than me and had thinner limbs. My training alone would overpower him if I needed it to. If only my body were bereft of the aches that naturally came from sleeping on dubious hard surfaces for several cool summer nights in a row. I said nothing but regretted hiding the heat of my glare behind my disguise. ¡°Of course they do.¡± He reached. I dodged. He held up his hands in peace and nodded a silent invitation to walk alongside him. He studied me with the same expression he had when we¡¯d first met. This was Sam. This would always be Sam. With one glance he¡¯d understood me, treated me as an equal, and never underestimated me. A good quality in an ally as well as a friend, but for us, neither applied. I took his invitation only to keep myself from staying still too long in a crowd I¡¯d stolen from. When I¡¯d first met Sam, he¡¯d offered me a drink. I only hoped this offer had the same hospitable intent. ¡°Seriously though, are you gonna pay for those? Because I can buy you new clothes, Solin.¡± ¡°No, I am not going to pay for them, and I don¡¯t want your charity.¡± My stomach disagreed. Food had only come my way during brief moments of opportunity. ¡°Yeah, about that¡­oh, here we are.¡± ¡°This is your vehicle?¡± I examined the nondescript, aging hatchback and its peeling, off-silver paint. ¡°Part of your disguise, no doubt.¡± ¡°I¡¯m rich, not famous. This is more for your benefit. Get in.¡± ¡°I¡¯d rather not.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not going to kill you.¡± ¡°You couldn¡¯t.¡± ¡°Have you seen yourself lately? I totally could.¡± Had he seen me lately? How long had he been watching me? Of course he hadn¡¯t just stumbled upon me, which meant he had been observing me for a while without me detecting him. ¡°But I¡¯m not going to.¡± Sam opened the passenger-side door. ¡°Trust me?¡± I got in. ¡°You should put your seat belt on.¡± ¡°I¡¯m aware.¡± I struggled to find comfort in the cramped passenger seat. ¡°The thingy under the seat, on the side there.¡± I clicked into a more comfortable place. ¡°I¡¯m not thanking you.¡± He flipped down the visor above my head. ¡°And you have a little something on your chin.¡± If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. I grumbled and looked through at least three layers of dust and two more layers of grime on the cracked mirror above. A light-brown blob surrounded by a black blob looked back at me with its dark blobby eyes. No little something detected in my warped reflection. I flipped the visor up, then wiped my chin of the grease smudge using the slightly cleaner rearview mirror, albeit when Sam turned his gaze away. The car revved to life, and we sat in silence for a few blocks. Passersby were too invested in their mobile devices to notice us¡ªperhaps utilizing the very technology that had made Sam his wealth¡ªsometimes at great detriment to their own health. He drove beyond the territory I¡¯d explored since arriving in this place into areas slightly cleaner, slightly brighter, and slightly less bumpy. On these roads, the dreadful pine-scented ornament dangling from the rearview mirror no longer danced annoyingly in my peripheral vision. ¡°Radio¡¯s busted, sorry,¡± he said. We slowed to a stop at a traffic light. ¡°They don¡¯t know you¡¯re here.¡± ¡°Nonsense. You know I¡¯m here.¡± ¡°Because I¡¯m awesome, but that¡¯s not the point. The point is, I might¡¯ve done something slightly illegal to make sure what I saw, no one else saw.¡± I considered unbuckling and jumping out the door. ¡°For vengeance, no doubt.¡± ¡°Nah, seems like someone beat me to it. Besides, the best revenge is¡­something about being the better person? Living a good life? Whatever. We¡¯re here.¡± He parked the car next to an empty alley wedged between buildings of varying heights, though none over ten stories. The alley¡¯s putrid odor smelled worse than the dumpsters that had served as shelter last night, but the rodents didn¡¯t seem to mind. ¡°I taste garbage, Sam.¡± ¡°Keep walking,¡± he said. ¡°We¡¯re good.¡± As we ventured through the maze of alleys, I understood he told the truth. I could trust him, for this moment. He clearly hadn¡¯t told his friends about my arrival, and he didn¡¯t move as a killer moved. The farther we walked from the car, the safer I felt. The alleys smelled nicer too. We arrived at the back entrance of a shorter building where he punched a number into a keypad before opening the door and holding it for me. ¡°After you.¡± His kindness alarmed me more than comforted me, but for however little I trusted him, I did trust my own assessment of the facts I had. I walked not to death, nor to barred walls. A keypad could mean anything. It did not mean Sam was luring me into a trap. I entered after a moment of pensive reluctance and followed him up the stairwell of warm whites and polished woods. Signs of humanity were everywhere. In the sole set of crisp boot prints on the vinyl-covered steps. In the recycling bins we passed at every floor¡¯s exit, sitting below signs advising residents not to leave their recycling bins in the stairwell for safety reasons. In the leftover clear tape adhered to each floor¡¯s door, ghosts of former safety signs. In the chewed gum beneath the handrail to the fifth and final floor before the roof. ¡°This way.¡± Sam nodded at the door. Sunlight spilled from rooftop windows into the long hallway, reminding me briefly of home. Our steps echoed off the wooden floor as we passed doors with Welcome signs and decorative mats. At the very end of the hallway, Sam pulled out keys, unlocked the door, and opened it with a grand gesture. ¡°Home sweet home.¡± The scent of fresh latex paint greeted us. Before us lay a furnished yet oddly empty apartment, save the bright morning light beaming from the windows and the gently frosted skylight. Beautiful but impractical. A man of such wealth put himself in grave danger with such windows. I had a hard time imagining a man of Sam¡¯s status living in a home with¡­apparently no walls between rooms. ¡°This isn¡¯t your home,¡± I said. ¡°Nope.¡± He dangled the keys. ¡°It¡¯s yours. The apartment, not the building. Forged your name on the lease and paid ahead for a year, so the landlady might not recognize you when you finally need to pay¡ª¡± I swept away his hand and headed for a window, forcing myself to squint through the intense light of morning. ¡°I need nothing from you.¡± ¡°Okay, so maybe stop thinking I¡¯m doing this as a favor to you, and maybe think about this as me having to do this for myself.¡± ¡°Why? I left you on a rooftop to die.¡± ¡°Oh, so you remember that? I blamed you so long for that, forgetting completely that it was¡ªyou know what, just take the damn keys, Solin.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t know what my father would do if he discovered I cheated my way through exile.¡± ¡°Exile? Shit, did you try to take over your home planet too?¡± ¡°That¡¯s not what I did here, and it¡¯s complicated,¡± I said. ¡°Let me wallow in my reckoning alone. My path doesn¡¯t include charity.¡± ¡°Maybe it can. My charity. Take it. I guarantee you that being human is suffering enough.¡± Powerless. He knew just how powerless I was. I faced him and paced the room, circling him. I had to reclaim some of my power, and I tired of being idle. My boots clicked along the glossy hardwood, which groaned whenever I neared the kitchen island. ¡°This is your last warning, Gardyner. My redemption will not include you. I will make my own way, and I won¡¯t have you or anyone else meddling in things they don¡¯t understand.¡± ¡°My last warning? You think I care about your warnings?¡± Now Sam paced, and I stopped, ceding power in the dialogue to him. I¡¯d relied on fear to impress a message, and that didn¡¯t work with Sam. He knew I had nothing to flex. ¡°Listen, Solin, your redemption, if that¡¯s even what you¡¯re doing here, does include me. I was affected by that stunt you pulled. People died because of that bomb.¡± ¡°You know that wasn¡¯t me¡ª¡± ¡°But you enabled it. You trusted that asshole with power, and look what happened. And don¡¯t forget, you did leave me to die. After I helped you. So yeah, I¡¯m part of your redemption now. And you¡¯re going to take this apartment and that credit card on the counter, and you¡¯re going to be clothed and fed and sheltered while you walk this path.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t want your money.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not mine. It¡¯s yours. I figured you might¡¯ve been amassing some wealth here when you tried to conquer Earth five years ago.¡± ¡°Not conquer. Invite you to join our Federation.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not what the internet said.¡± ¡°You know that¡¯s not what I was here to do. You were there, Sam. Things didn¡¯t go according to plan.¡± ¡°Yeah, I was there for the worst part of it. Anyway, you needed money to ¡®invite us to join your Federation,¡¯ especially if you wanted to establish a base of operations for thousands of years to come.¡± ¡°I had no plans for a base and no ill intentions for humanity. Besides, my account was drained. You watched it happen.¡± ¡°I found some leftovers. Moved them without a hitch. Don¡¯t worry. The Shadowfall Alliance didn¡¯t see a thing. They¡¯re still pretty young, and their tech is weaker than they think. Plus, they aren¡¯t as brilliant as I am.¡± ¡°But just as narcissistic,¡± I returned. He grinned. ¡°What you call narcissism, I call being realistic.¡± ¡°And what, you¡¯ll let me live here and spend all of this money without supervision?¡± ¡°Do you need to be supervised?¡± I said nothing. ¡°Do you want to be supervised?¡± ¡°No. Did we not just establish that?¡± ¡°Maybe ¡®protected¡¯ is a better word.¡± ¡°Get over yourself, Gardyner. You can¡¯t protect me from anyone. Not your people in the Alliance and certainly not my own.¡± ¡°I found you, didn¡¯t I?¡± ¡°Only because I dropped my guard.¡± ¡°Right,¡± he said incredulously. ¡°How about this¡ªI¡¯ll keep an eye on things too. You know, for my sake. Not yours. Because you can do that all by your lonesome.¡± ¡°Fine.¡± ¡°Fine.¡± He turned to leave, but when he made it to the door, hand on the knob, he stopped. ¡°I¡¯m not kidding. I¡¯m doing this for myself.¡± ¡°Of course you are.¡± ¡°Sometimes it pays to understand what, or whom, you hate. Makes some of the pain go away.¡± He tossed the keys at me. I caught them. ¡°One for the lobby, one for your mailbox downstairs, and one for each lock on that door. Code is 8152. Oh, and there¡¯s an ID card for you too. And a checkbook. But no one uses those anymore. Your name is Jonathan now. Probably best that you don¡¯t share a name with Earth¡¯s Most Wanted.¡± I squeezed the sharp ridges of the keys with my fingertips, hoping the distraction would serve as a mask for my emotions since I no longer possessed any of the deceptive powers I once relied on. ¡°Thank you, Sam.¡± He nodded at a device on the coffee table. ¡°Call me if you need anything.¡± Chapter 2 22984 YD (1696 CE) Heartwing, Cydrithenna
I rubbed my wrists the moment my binds were gone. I was free. I stared at my jailer, waiting to be handed my pre-prison clothes, but he merely arched one of his blond brows at me. ¡°They took your clothes.¡± ¡°Then give me new ones.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t.¡± He left me in the chamber with the administrator and other guards. I drew a circle with my glare until every eye within met my discontent. ¡°Sir, we¡¯re going to have to ask you to leave the premises,¡± said one of the guards. They knew whom they spoke to but did not appear to care. I needed better clothing; I couldn¡¯t be seen in the garb of an inmate, but I couldn¡¯t make a fuss either. One did not gain respect and loyalty by abusing their power, and I had other ways of getting home unseen. I stepped outside the monstrous, impossibly tall prison and winced in the light of our sun, Daerlyvia. Beside me, another released inmate, a pale-peach Drakon with intimidating shoulders and height, lit a cigar stuffed with dark leaves grown by Storm Giants. He eyed me, grunted, and exhaled a large plume of smoke. ¡°This thing¡¯s been in my pocket for a long time. Still tastes good. Those Storm Giants really know what they¡¯re doing.¡± ¡°They are innovative allies.¡± ¡°Want a drag?¡± ¡°No, thank you.¡± ¡°How about this?¡± He tugged on the collar of his long coat, which looked like an extension of his black hair. ¡°I appreciate the offer, Haro, but I¡¯ll manage.¡± Clouds as dark as his coat lurked in the distance. He shrugged. ¡°Well, didn¡¯t want you to walk outta here like that, Prince Solin.¡± I smirked and masked, using the power of illusory magick to turn this garb into the fabrics of royalty and the cyans, indigos, and blacks of my family¡¯s house. The curls in my hair flattened. Magick hadn¡¯t surged through me in years. ¡°Not bad,¡± he said. ¡°You serious about walking? You could order them to send a ship.¡± I shook my head. Flying home in a transport would be more convenient, but I had no desire to head back through those doors to make the request. ¡°What about you?¡± ¡°Nah,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m good. Thanks.¡± ¡°Of course.¡± ¡°Make sure to get some sun now that we have it,¡± he said of my pale, light-brown skin. ¡°It¡¯s good for you.¡± He exhaled another puff of smoke. We shared a smile. ¡°Farewell, Harodrin Pellewenny.¡± ¡°So long, Prince Solin Felwing.¡± I turned in the direction of the palace, that looming, hazy building in the distance, but before I could take my first of many steps, Haro cleared his throat and asked me something he hadn¡¯t asked me during the entirety of our incarceration. ¡°Did you do it?¡± ¡°No,¡± I replied as I had replied to many others beforehand. ¡°I did not kill my brother.¡± Smoke poured from his nostrils. ¡°Huh. Guess I have to congratulate someone else then.¡± ¡°I suppose you will.¡± I stepped away from Haro¡¯s sight and masked myself as an ordinary citizen. No one from the palace awaited me outside the prison, which saved them the pageantry of associating the royal house with an ex-convict and robbed me of time. Heartwing was the last bastion of the Dragons before they had been hunted into extinction by the Giants. To preserve their bloodline, the Dragons had brought beings from Gaia and offered them the gift of drakanthropy. The Dragons had died, but the first Drakons lived on, Gaian in shape but with the strength, longevity, and affinity for magick from their Dragon forebears. They had inherited a large city in both size and area. Beautiful. Old. Traveling by foot would take hours. A fantastical city street of otherworldly architecture. Doors are sized for beings who no longer roam the city. Massive pillars hold up a structure that overtakes the city street; trees grow out of it. People walk beneath the structure. Although beleaguered by the length of the walk, I now had the much-needed time to calm my disappointment at having been left to walk in the first place. I calculated what I would do when I did return to the palace. Masking myself was second nature, and even this took great effort and concentration. My body still bore the effects of my prerelease surgery to remove prison-installed implants. Those artifacts render it impossible for the imprisoned to use magick, making prison safer for those of great physical strength. By nightfall, I arrived at the moon-silvered, prodigious palace, not surprised that no one greeted me even here. I slipped into the grounds, unseen by the gatehouse guards and the wandering patrols. My illusions granted me a sort of invisibility, and this magick trumped their training. I began my ascent of the steps to the main terrace, then paused. Familiar forms appeared at the top. Jemier stormed down the steps, followed by his entourage of friends. I considered eavesdropping, but I had to get home, for it was my father who¡¯d pardoned me and his company that Jemier had most likely just left. I was sure my father not only expected me but considered me late. But it had been a while since I¡¯d seen Jemier. ¡°You need not rush to my aid.¡± I revealed myself, albeit it with the manufactured drapings of royalty I¡¯d shown Haro earlier. ¡°Solin!¡± Jemier rushed alone to embrace me, and I tentatively embraced him in return, knowing his friends would detest the act. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. The House of Wraithstone oft bore handsome, strong children, and Jemier had not been passed over. He had the build and rugged jawline of a warrior and playful blue eyes that peered from beneath an intense brow. His brown hair stayed tousled and barely graced his shoulders, the way he liked it but not the way nobility often favored it. I could tell he¡¯d been training again by the healthy tan of his peach skin, one that would become an unhealthy red if he kept it up. He¡¯d been teased as a youth for having burnt the shape of his armor onto his skin and had since exercised or trained shirtless unless purposefully trying to hone how he moved in armor. He also trained harder when angry or distressed. ¡°You¡¯re squeezing too hard,¡± I said. ¡°I have missed you.¡± ¡°Are you to thank for my early release?¡± I said as we relaxed into a much looser hold. ¡°Do not thank me, Solin.¡± ¡°Jemier found Varin¡¯s killer,¡± said Corian Scaleborn. She stood resolute beside him, her broadsword openly displayed on her hip. Her spiraled twists, tied low behind her neck, had grown since I had last seen her. Moonlight bounced off her deep-brown skin and made her silver clothes glisten. ¡°It gave much relief to your father.¡± ¡°Though he made the mistake of yelling at your father just now for sending no one to claim you at the prison,¡± added Renny Vivifyal, my least favorite of the group. He kept his bear-brown beard as short as his hair and a semipermanent look of arrogance plastered on his fair brown face. He stood as tall and as mighty as Jemier, but his posture lacked the rigid, dutiful alertness that Corian carried herself with. Eleric Foundry remained silent and hid himself behind Renny. I didn¡¯t bother trying to update my memory of him. ¡°I was coming to greet you,¡± said Jemier in his rich-toned, yet often too-boisterous voice. I sometimes questioned the depth of our friendship based on this alone. ¡°No one else would. I was not even told that this was the day of your release.¡± ¡°Of course you weren¡¯t. I belong to him, and therefore, information about me belongs to him. The more control he has over all aspects of me, the better, especially given the current circumstances.¡± ¡°Your public distaste for your father isn¡¯t very becoming of you,¡± said Renny. ¡°And your public disregard for anything other than the crown isn¡¯t very becoming of you,¡± I returned with a steady glare. ¡°Change the meaning of ¡®crown,¡¯ Prince Solin, and the same could be said for you.¡± ¡°Stop it,¡± said Corian. ¡°Jemier has cleared him of wrongdoing, and so has our king.¡± Renny harumphed. ¡°Well,¡± I said, ¡°with these pleasantries over, I regret to inform you that I must make haste and return to my darling family.¡± I released myself from Jemier¡¯s hold. ¡°Thank you, Jemier.¡± ¡°Wait,¡± he said, and upon his word, his friends shared a foreboding look, one I could not decipher but would not forget. ¡°What am I waiting for, Jemier? You to visit me in prison?¡± His intense brow furrowed in remorse. ¡°I am sorry.¡± With a glance, he commanded the others away. They nodded, but Corian left with a gentle touch to Jemier¡¯s shoulder, one she often gave him and one he often gave her as well. She and Renny started down the stairs and obediently did not look back at us. I continued ignoring Eleric as he followed. Jemier has always been the de facto leader of our group, even when my brother, Varin, still drew breath. I, on the other hand, have always been the outsider, bearing their isolation of me because we would eventually serve on the Senate together. I joined them because Jemier was my only friend, though there were times he certainly didn¡¯t act like it. ¡°You are masking,¡± he said once they had cleared. ¡°You finally noticed?¡± ¡°I guessed. Can we¡­go somewhere else?¡± ¡°Worried I will faint and hurt myself on the stairs, Jemier?¡± ¡°No, drathos. It is important. Please, to the gardens?¡± ¡°Ah, the gardens, yes, of course.¡± I rolled my eyes. Perhaps he didn¡¯t share my newfound dislike of the space. Perhaps he had forgotten that, in these gardens, he had accused me of trying to commit the very crime he¡¯d just cleared me of. Soldiers took notice and behaved appropriately, saluting as I passed and being discreet to all they thought they heard. If they judged me, they hid it well. I had no knowledge of how my name had been cleared, only that it had, and apparently, Jemier had had a part in it. We went to the private space with the very memory-laden tree and took shelter in its additional shadows. The chill in the night air made itself less known here than on the open, sweeping staircase up to the palace, and because I still wore my inmate¡¯s garb, I found the tree affable. I dropped my mask. ¡°Your hair is longer,¡± he said in a voice no longer boisterous and defiant of the peace. ¡°That is how time affects it, yes. Although I¡¯ve had it cut. It would be several feet long if I hadn¡¯t.¡± ¡°Is that¡­¡± He peered at me, a slight smile on his face. ¡°Is that the start of a beard, Solin?¡± I rolled my eyes and masked the stubble away. ¡°I had a hard time finding a blade this week.¡± ¡°And your clothes¡­¡± ¡°Are missing. Perhaps sold to the highest bidder or being used as swaddling cloth after being hocked downtown.¡± ¡°I could find them for you¡­¡± ¡°I don¡¯t care about the damn clothes, Jemier.¡± ¡°Right. Sorry.¡± He reached for my shoulder. ¡°Solin, there is something I must tell you.¡± ¡°Obviously.¡± ¡°Please don¡¯t be so rancorous with me. What I must tell you is difficult, but I want you to hear it from me first.¡± ¡°Did someone else die? Not the king since we¡¯ve already established he¡¯s alive.¡± ¡°No one died.¡± Good. ¡°An apology then.¡± ¡°I did all I could to clear your name. I found your brother¡¯s killer.¡± He swallowed, then glanced at his hands. ¡°Is that not apology enough?¡± ¡°Who did it, then?¡± ¡°His lover.¡± I laughed. ¡°His lover? Danica? You mean the one person who was the last one seen with him, and the person who found him, and the person with the relationship that they always check first in these instances remarkably turned out to be the murderer? Well done, Jemier. You managed to take my words and make my father listen. Albeit years after the fact.¡± ¡°Please stop laughing, Solin. She was never brought to justice. She killed herself before her arrest.¡± I did not stop giggling. ¡°Killed herself? Of course. No wonder the future of House Vivifyal doubts your actions. Did you have any evidence, or did my father take you at my, pardon, your word?¡± He gripped both of my shoulders tight. ¡°Solin, stop. I understand you may carry some resentment over what happened¡ª¡± ¡°Ah, some. Very quantifiable¡ª¡± ¡°But she died and was found guilty posthumously.¡± ¡°And I suppose Renny believes someone planted whatever evidence pointed to Danica. That someone being me or an ally of mine.¡± Jemier hesitated. ¡°Yes, but you must understand¡ª¡± ¡°I don¡¯t need to understand. Is that what you wanted to tell me so urgently? Is that why you brought me to this place?¡± ¡°No. I just want to repair what has been done to us.¡± ¡°In the very place you delivered a near-fatal blow to our friendship.¡± ¡°Is it¡ªoh.¡± He sighed, then dropped his hands. ¡°Solin, your father has¡­he has not made you heir.¡± ¡°I¡­¡± I swallowed. I¡¯d anticipated this news, considering the history of dislike between us and the optics of my father¡¯s heir being the person the kingdom believed had killed the previous heir. Such a precedent could not be set. Still, Jemier had exonerated me. Karrdil would have to change his mind in accordance with Drakon law¡ª ¡°Karrdil has claimed me as an heir.¡± I stared at him, glared at him. I never trained to be a king, only a senator, but I¡¯d always had more qualifications than Varin. I¡¯d been the only one to take our political studies seriously. Jemier, though of a higher moral ground than Varin¡ªnot exactly a difficult achievement for anyone¡ªlacked the training and resolve of a politician. He was a warrior who could still be found at the tavern after coming home from battle, not a man who could sit still on a throne and contemplate the puzzles brought before him. ¡°Did you take it?¡± ¡°Solin, please don¡¯t get¡ª¡± ¡°Did you take it?¡± He hesitated. ¡°I had no choice. You were still in prison.¡± I clenched my fist. ¡°A place I called home for several decades, but, according to you, I only carry ¡®some¡¯ resentment over. Yes, of course, I only harbor some resentment, especially when my entire life has been swept out from beneath me.¡± I turned my back on him and paced, trying not to run to King Karrdil and demand to know why he despised me so much. ¡°You will still be on the same path.¡± ¡°Is that what you think, Jemier?¡± ¡°I will appoint you as a senator. Nothing will change.¡± ¡°Except for the whole of Cydrithenna, who will see me as the senator who lost the trust of a king, of his own father. And you¡­you could have rejected it. You could have¡ª¡± ¡°He said if I did not agree to it, then he would not free you!¡± My stomach lurched. ¡°What?¡± ¡°It was my only choice, Solin¡­please understand.¡± Shaking, I held up a hand. ¡°I¡­need to be alone. Please leave.¡± Jemier murmured something beneath his breath, then gave me one last forlorn glance before leaving me beneath a tree watered with pain. Chapter 3 2017 Polaris, New York
I didn¡¯t know what to do other than sigh and breathe heavily. All I¡¯d done filled my lungs, drowning me, and all that had been done to me weighed down on my chest, crushing me. My fingers curled, clenching nothing but air and the keys Sam had given me. I had no family. I had no friends. I had no redeemable past. I had nothing but Sam¡¯s attempt at forgiveness and self-repair. But I also had a bed and a place to store my stolen bag and clothes. I had a few electronics, technology I recognized when I¡¯d first visited this planet. One lone, flat television screen. A primitive computing tablet. A sleek mobile phone. Although large, the apartment lacked some of the luxuries I expected. There were no properly enclosed rooms aside from a massive closet and a place to shower and clear the bowels, which these Gaians oddly kept in the same room. Two stools accompanied the island counter that framed the narrow kitchen. A dining table sat below a simple hanging light fixture, boxy but oddly beautiful. A sofa faced the television. Two pointless steps led up to a stage with a naked bed framed on all sides by an equally naked floor. Packaged bedclothes lay on the mattress. Could I conceivably achieve redemption in this place? For all the contempt Sam and I held for each other these days, I had to admit that using a furnished apartment instead of a city sidewalk as a home would make things easier. But cleansing oneself of sin should not be easy. Did I want to return to the chill of an uncovered night? Would it be more harmful to Sam¡¯s own journey if I were selfish enough to take my piece of it away from him? I made use of the primitive tablet right away and studied what I could about this planet and what had changed since I¡¯d last stepped foot upon it. It didn¡¯t take long to learn how to use the device. I¡¯d watched Gaians use them before and understood how their creators had set up their basic interfaces. Still, I found a startling amount of misinformation abound on the Gaian information network, a place I had not ventured to during my last visit here because my former companions had done that for me. I did discover how to use my washing machine and clothes dryer. I got to work on the bedclothes first, and when I pulled them out of their plastic sheaths, they smelled like the filthy factories they had likely come from. I happily stuffed those smelly bedclothes into the washing machine, following the instructions on the package. I sat back down with the tablet and stared at the page for the search engine. What did the Gaian people know about me? I typed in the romanization of my name and paled. Before I could even complete the search command, the page suggested a list of topics: I deleted my name from the search and replaced it with ¡°dragon.¡± The suggested searches were no less worrisome: Despite the hollow pit in my stomach, I selected one of those worrisome suggestions and found hundreds of results: some in languages I understood and others in those I did not. Some pages speculated about my existence in long pieces of writing. Some hosted pictures of me, or rather, one pixelated photo of me and dozens of people who looked like me. Messy videos had proliferated on one site in particular, many with thousands of views, with one damning but misleading video breaking the million mark. One video showed a large, dragon-like mass crossing the night sky in Philadelphia. Wrong date. A video of me sitting amongst delegates in New York City, awaiting my turn to speak. Right date. Actually me. Dizzy, I closed the search engine and set the tablet down. To regain my appetite, I searched the kitchen cupboards to take stock of what I now owned. Sam had not put anything but milk in my refrigeration unit and a loaf of pre-sliced bread with ingredients listed that I had never heard of before. I poured a glass of milk and found myself immediately disappointed in its bland taste and mucous texture. I¡¯d never enjoyed milk from any animal without honey added. I reluctantly ate a slice of the soft bread. I didn¡¯t know what I was in for, but I didn¡¯t care either. My stomach hungered for food, but what food I¡¯d stolen had been mostly a mix of greasy meats stashed between flat breads and looked nothing like what I knew from Cydrithenna. I¡¯d seen Gaians eat that before. Those under my brief command had partaken in such strange meals, but I had not. I had only eaten what I knew was pure and similar to Cydrithennan dishes. It¡¯s not that these delicacies were beneath me. No. I¡¯d feared them. I¡¯d feared how they¡¯d make me feel. I¡¯d feared what poison could be within them. I did not want to know if I could be taken down with but a taste of soy lecithin and a sprinkling of monosodium glutamate. The information network had very extreme things to say about monosodium glutamate. The bread neither broke nor met my expectations. According to the tablet, the bread consisted of enough preservatives to mummify one¡¯s body overnight. I doubted the science, but not my taste buds. I discovered a place to purchase healthier, tastier food nearby. When I was younger and still considered Drakon royalty on Cydrithenna, I hadn¡¯t been permitted to go to the market without an escort. My father feared an interloper from another faction stealing me away, and not so much because I was a prince, but because I was his and his alone. Yet I stole myself away, nonetheless, cloaked in various disguises of my own magickal devising using illusory magick. Some disguises were better than the others since I often used this time to experiment with new techniques. Had I studied the bounce of flat hair properly? Could I hold that illusion whilst also maintaining the illusion of a cloak? Over time, what had once taken great focus became as natural as breathing. Long before this exile began, I had deftly woven complex illusions, both personal and environmental, with little effort. None had my reputation for illusory magick, which informed my father¡¯s decision greatly, no doubt. If I could mimic the shape, the gait, the sound, the scent of another, whom couldn¡¯t I depose? Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. Now stranded on Gaia and unable to sail away on my own accord, I became that young Drakon boy again, experimenting with ways to exist undetected. What if I slipped and called this planet by my people¡¯s name for it? What if I did something else to identify myself as an alien? I had to rely on one of the Gaian people¡¯s flaws. I¡¯d noticed many during my other visits to this planet and my first few days without Sam¡¯s gifted shelter, but one stood out: Gaians do not pay attention if they don¡¯t need to. A malfunction of a survival mechanism, perhaps. If something is not important to a goal, why should the brain bother? Given how prone Gaians were to distraction, the sunglasses, I figured, would suffice in lieu of magick. The city¡¯s lights turned on as I walked toward the market, making those sunglasses oddly out of place on my eyes. My brainpower hadn¡¯t suffered from the curse placed upon me, but my body had. Last night, I¡¯d slept outdoors. A frosty breeze threatened tonight¡¯s warmth, and the damp air made my bones ache. Sam¡¯s gift would be put to good use tonight. I hurried along the route I¡¯d memorized and found my market. I stood stunned at the entrance; the extravagance of this large grocery store challenged my sense of a market. Drakons have wealth, and Drakons have technology, but we still cling to many of the old ways of life partly because we believe it honors our Dragon ancestors. I do not know what takes up so much of the Gaian people¡¯s time, what drives them to such vapid consumerism that they need establishments like this, but I must say, their stores are ingenious. What little knowledge I had of Gaian cuisine came from the tablet. I found produce also found in Cydrithenna. Perhaps the Last Dragons had allowed the ancient Gaians to bring seeds with them, or the plants were smuggled over. I picked out what I could, but after fifteen minutes of this, it became obvious to me I hadn¡¯t come to the market with a plan. I just wanted bread without all those unknown ingredients and something to go with it. Nothing in the basket that weighed heavily on my weak Gaian arm seemed to create a cohesive meal. I needed to learn how to cook. I made my way around the store, hoping to avoid recognition. Some did stare at me, but I figured the sunglasses had a lot to do with that. I eventually let the glasses rest atop my head, which helped to keep my long hair out of my eyes, but I found myself more paranoid than ever. Surveillance devices were everywhere. Here, I did not fear the Drakons; here, I feared the Gaians that had once hunted me. The Shadowfall Alliance would be delighted to know of my whereabouts. I froze in front of the milk coolers, stopped by the profile of a broad-shouldered man with a stern look and an even more stern haircut. Captain Lufan? He examined the milk with the same suspicion he¡¯d held for me before my first arrest. Any sudden movement by me could alert him to my presence. Was he here to make sure I abided by my exile? ¡°Honey?¡± he called out, turning my way. My hand clenched around the handle of my basket. ¡°They¡¯re out of two-percent.¡± Behind me, a voice responded. ¡°Whole milk¡¯s fine.¡± I turned. The short, stocky woman reached into the cooler for a carton of eggs. She brought them back to a shopping cart near the Lufan lookalike. He turned with a gallon of red-labeled milk in hand and smiled at her before noticing my expression. ¡°You looking for the two-percent too, huh?¡± ¡°Oh, no. Well, yes,¡± I said, stammering more than I ever have in all my centuries of my existence. ¡°Not anymore, though. I¡¯ll have to come back another time.¡± Inwardly I chastised myself; did lying about a love of milk really protect me? It was about as good as these useless sunglasses on my head. I headed to the front of the store where I unloaded my food-burdened basket onto a conveyor belt. The basket¡¯s tiny handles left a mark in my palm. I waited in line, massaging out the mark while I observed the nature of transactions in this place until I had to pay. The cashier smiled at me and complimented me on some of my food choices. The tag on her collared shirt read Marilyn, and random tattoos covered her exposed brown arms. ¡°Making a salad?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± I replied without understanding her question. In time I knew I would. In Cydrithenna we have salads, but they are nothing like what the Gaian people eat. I didn¡¯t see any semblance of a Cydrithennan salad on the conveyor belt. ¡°I love a good salad. My sister says I¡¯ll turn into a rabbit.¡± She let out a little laugh at what must have been her sister¡¯s joke. I didn¡¯t find her sister¡¯s humor amusing, but I adapted and played along. ¡°I¡¯m sure that won¡¯t happen.¡± She smiled and laughed, and I found myself smiling back. Conversing with Gaians would get easier soon. One cannot be a deceiver and not understand the most basic part of deception. She gave me my total, and I handed her the credit card that Sam had given me. She showed me how to access the funds myself, but just before I went to swipe the card, she stopped me. ¡°I almost forgot. I¡¯m supposed to ask if you want to donate a dollar to end child hunger.¡± How peculiar. The marketplace, her employer, clearly had more than enough food to help end child hunger in this neighborhood, yet asked its customers to do this job for them. I pondered how something as disgusting as child hunger still existed in a society at this stage of advancement. Gaians became even more primitive to me. Surely, they didn¡¯t need dragon blood in their veins to understand poverty. ¡°Yes, I would,¡± I said, validating the market¡¯s idea of charity while also redeeming myself. My account, according to Sam, could afford it. ¡°I¡¯d like to donate more, actually.¡± ¡°Okay,¡± she said. ¡°One, five, or ten?¡± ¡°Dollars?¡± She gave me a quizzical look. ¡°Yes.¡± I had knowledge on Gaian currency, and these denominations were too small to end child hunger. Still, I may as well have announced my alienness to her right there. I chose the largest number, and she asked me to write my name on a thick piece of paper shaped like an apple. ¡°Solin¡± wouldn¡¯t work. Even if I wrote it in Drakon, someone might recognize it. I¡¯m sure my father counted on that. I¡¯m sure he wanted our Gaian cousins to do his dirty work for him. ¡°You can just write your nickname if your full name won¡¯t fit.¡± The credit card. Of course. She had seen my alias on the card. I wrote down ¡°Jon¡± in English and handed her the apple. She set it aside as I paid for my groceries and then bid me farewell. I slid the sunglasses back onto my face, and then I bundled the bags into my arms and headed for the exit. I stopped at a curious mess of postings on a bulletin board that I¡¯d failed to see when I¡¯d arrived. Small cards and torn scraps of phone numbers and lost animal photos papered the board. Psychics sought to help me get in touch with deceased relatives. A cleaning service could come to my apartment weekly for a small fee. I could join a band if I knew how to play the drums and ¡°didn¡¯t want drama.¡± The postings were unlike those I found with the tablet. The curl of the papers, the blend of the handwritten and typed text, the messages deemed too important to cover, and the gall of those who¡¯d claimed additional space. Help your community. The text peered out from beneath a flyer for a sidewalk sale and another for a local school¡¯s fundraiser. The paper had been pierced several times by pushpins, and a piece of tape had faded the top of H in ¡°Help.¡± I tilted my head and checked my surroundings. No one cared that I was staring at this board. I set down my bags and attempted to pry the buried flyer free. The flyer for the sidewalk sale slipped. I reached out with my magick to catch it. Nothing. My telekinesis, as precious to me as illusory magick, had been locked behind the curse as well, and habit kept outdoing memory. The paper slid to the end of Marilyn¡¯s station. Her current customer looked up at me, looked at the paper, then back at me before picking the posting up. ¡°You dropped this.¡± I took the wayward flyer. ¡°Thanks.¡± The customer nodded and returned to their purchase. My heart pounded. I should have just taken over the microphone at Marilyn¡¯s station and announced to the store that I come from the planet Cydrithenna and am a half-Gaian, half-dragon alien with none of the good parts of either. Without making a fool of myself again, I pried the flyer I wanted free and tacked the rogue flyer back in place. ¡°Have a good one,¡± said the customer who¡¯d helped me as they exited. ¡°You too.¡± My eyes caught the wall of paper apples. Jenny. Michael and Steve. The Merry Millers. And now, with Marilyn free of customers and thus able to display the latest donor¡¯s apple, Jon. I read the flyer in my hand. Help your community. I folded it in half and stuffed it into a bag before heading back to the apartment I temporarily called home. Chapter 4 2017 Polaris, New York
I waited in the rundown cafeteria while an employee wiped down the tables around me. I hadn¡¯t caught his name, but he had dark, bushy brows and pale-white skin. He¡¯d assured me Victoria, the person I was here to meet, would be out in a minute. ¡°There¡¯s no rush,¡± I said, feeling a little silly while someone cleaned around me. This space was a far cry from the palace where it was normal to be surrounded by people who worked and cleaned up on your behalf. Here, I became an obstacle no matter how many times the employee assured me otherwise. ¡°Do you need help with this?¡± I offered, despite being averse to using that cloying lemon cleanser. The small cafeteria boasted only six long tables, each with various chips on their surfaces, but six long tables was still a lot to clean for one person, and he also tended to every hard-plastic chair. The employee shrugged. ¡°No, I¡¯m okay.¡± Behind the stainless-steel serving stations, the sole set of double doors swung open. ¡°Hey, Peter?¡± said the woman who burst through them. ¡°Can you come back and help with¡ª¡± She looked at me, scratched at the messy bun that held her brown hair, and furrowed her brow. ¡°Um, hi. Sorry. Are you being helped?¡± ¡°He¡¯s good,¡± said Peter. ¡°He¡¯s here for Victoria.¡± ¡°Does she know that?¡± ¡°Doesn¡¯t she have a schedule somewhere?¡± Her peach complexion pinked a little as she gave Peter a deadpan stare. Her eyes darted to me, her lips twisted in thought, before she looked at him again. ¡°Can you just come back here and help? Delivery¡¯s here.¡± ¡°Finally,¡± said Peter. He left his cleaning cloth and spray bottle on the far table and zipped in back while the woman held the door for him. She sighed. ¡°I¡¯ll tell Victoria you¡¯re here. Sorry.¡± The door swung shut, but it hardly muffled her shout of ¡°Victoria, there¡¯s a guy out here.¡± I shifted in the uncomfortable chair. Our Lady of Sorrows. A tragic but fitting name for this church. According to the phone Sam had left me, my appointment had started ten minutes ago. Judging from the commotion coming from the kitchen, my wait would be prolonged. I resisted the urge to cancel the appointment completely. This could be my first real step toward healing the wounds I had inflicted upon Gaia. I couldn¡¯t leave just because I felt inconvenienced. The double doors burst open again. This time, a skinny young man with skin as pale white as the Gaian moon and cinnamon-colored hair stepped through. He carried a large, flat pan full of brined meat and pungent vegetables. He set the pan down on the stainless-steel tables that lined the wall, then shouted over his shoulder, ¡°There¡¯s no water in the wells!¡± ¡°Do you need help filling them?¡± I asked. My voice startled him. Wide-eyed, he stared at me, stammering something unintelligible until a full sentence came out. ¡°Who let you in here? Lunch isn¡¯t ready yet.¡± ¡°His name is Peter, I believe, and I¡¯m not here for lunch.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± He tilted his head, then filled up a pitcher beside a small sink. He replenished the water well before setting the pan within it. He headed to the back, but before pushing through the doors, he asked, ¡°Who are you here for?¡± ¡°Victoria,¡± I said. ¡°Okay.¡± He returned to the kitchen where he shouted, ¡°Victoria? There¡¯s a guy out here.¡± ¡°The guy has a name,¡± I muttered to myself. ¡°Not that he can use it.¡± Peter emerged from the back. ¡°Sorry, are you Jonathan?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°My bad. I was supposed to take you back there like ten minutes ago. Sorry. Follow me.¡± While frustrating, Peter¡¯s lack of attention gave my chances of staying incognito a relieving boost. I stood, smoothing out the front of the new shirt I¡¯d purchased just for this meeting. Through the double doors lay a kitchen in disarray. The employees I¡¯d met earlier jumped between stirring food and preparing it whilst another employee I hadn¡¯t met carried boxes. To my immediate right was an alcove lined with coat hooks and small lockers along with a closet-like office absent its tenant. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. ¡°She¡¯s back here,¡± said Peter, leading me between a three-compartment sink and a prep station. Employee traffic grew heavier. Another staff member raced by, grabbing a box the other employee had just brought in while behind us, the employees I¡¯d met clanked pots and pans and shouted about what dishes were and were not ready to go. The tight space needed fewer bodies to be safe, but the work required more bodies to be efficient. We entered a short but stout back hall, which connected the kitchen to the two heavy doors that guarded their refrigerator and freezer. One unit¡¯s broken guts lay at the feet of two repair persons who tried their best to stay out of the way of the delivery, which came in through the door opened to the alley. ¡°Shit, it started raining,¡± said Peter. ¡°Sorry. She¡¯s out here.¡± I stepped into the alley. Peter grabbed a box from the back of a packed van after saying something to a woman with dark-brown skin and a vibrant wrap around her hair. Like the other employees, she wore jeans, sneakers, and a plain T-shirt. She turned around, tucked the clipboard she held beneath one arm, and extended her hand out to me. ¡°Victoria,¡± she said. ¡°You must be Jonathan?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± I shook her hand, a familiar custom to me. ¡°Nice to meet you.¡± ¡°You go by Jon?¡± ¡°Sure.¡± ¡°Do you, or don¡¯t you?¡± I did now, according to my paper apple at the market. ¡°Jon is fine. Thank you for asking.¡± ¡°You kind of caught us on a hectic day, Jon,¡± she said, peering into a box that the driver of the van presented to her. She marked something off on the clipboard. ¡°But it¡¯s not our worst. Scared yet?¡± ¡°No¡ª¡± ¡°Sorry, ¡¯scuse me,¡± said the employee who¡¯d nearly smashed into me. ¡°Can you cook?¡± Victoria asked. ¡°I get by.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t we all. What would you do about all that food we just lost in our fridge there?¡± ¡°You lost all the food?¡± ¡°Probably.¡± ¡°Well, I couldn¡¯t serve it.¡± She perked a brow. ¡°Even though you know you might not have anything to serve?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t understand the question. Won¡¯t people get sick?¡± She smiled. ¡°Good answer.¡± She paused, eyes locked onto the driver. ¡°Hey, what are you doing?¡± The driver shut the back of the van. ¡°That¡¯s all I¡¯ve got for you.¡± ¡°No, it¡¯s not.¡± She moved her pen down the list on her clipboard, her mouth silently counting the items. ¡°Five more boxes. I didn¡¯t see those tomatoes come in.¡± ¡°I just gave ¡¯em to Pete.¡± Victoria grumbled and poked her head inside. ¡°Peter? What did you do with the tomatoes Rick just gave you?¡± ¡°I put them in the fridge,¡± he called back. ¡°The broken fridge?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°Right next to all the spoiled food I just said we¡¯re throwing away?¡± This time the shout from the kitchen came after a delay. ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°I swear, this kid¡­¡± She put her hand on the door, ready to close it. ¡°Don¡¯t leave yet, Rick. I need to find those damn tomatoes.¡± ¡°Do you need help?¡± I asked her. She eyed me. ¡°You¡¯re dressed a little too nice for a place like this. You have clothes like mine?¡± I didn¡¯t care for jeans, but I could trade the buttoned shirt for a tee if I needed to. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Good, because that shirt¡¯s gonna get dust all over it. Here.¡± She handed me the clipboard. Raindrops spotted the invoice it held. ¡°Find those other four boxes and bring them inside. Make sure none of it¡¯s rotten. I¡¯ll have¡ªhold on.¡± She poked her head in the door again. ¡°Brida? Switch with Peter and come out here to help the new guy.¡± The young woman with the messy bun appeared. ¡°Oh, the new guy is the guy-guy.¡± She gave me a quick wave. ¡°Hi. Brida.¡± ¡°Jon,¡± I said. Victoria gave her a nod. ¡°Make sure this door stays closed as much as possible, okay?¡± ¡°Got it,¡± said Brida. Victoria left. ¡°Why closed?¡± I asked. ¡°Bugs. Makes it hard when the door automatically locks behind you, and you have your hands full, but it¡¯s law or something. Anyway, let me see that?¡± She held out her hands, folding her fingers on her palm rapidly. I gave her the clipboard. She opened the back of the van after nodding at Rick and hopped inside, then crawled between stacked boxes. ¡°Found them. Can you lift fifty pounds?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± I said. That ability came standard with this Gaian musculature. No magick required. As least part of me had use here. ¡°Good. That¡¯s an interview question, by the way. Always answer yes to that even if you can¡¯t. Ableism and all. Not that we¡¯re like that here¡ªsorry, tangent. Anyway, the only really heavy things we get are bulk bags of flour and sugar.¡± She pushed a stack of wrapped cans toward me. I picked it up, feeling the gritty dust on my fingertips. The dusty box scraped against my new shirt. ¡°Where does this go?¡± ¡°There¡¯s a pantry thing when you come into the kitchen from the other way. It¡¯s in the one doorway that looks like it goes back to the main church, but you don¡¯t go far. Just like, set it next to the door, but not like, in the way of the path or anything.¡± ¡°Sure.¡± I ventured back inside, trying not to struggle with the door and the broken brick that propped it open. Victoria had abandoned her sleuthing for tomatoes to answer a call on the main line. I found the ¡°pantry thing¡± Brida spoke of and returned to the back hall only to find that the other employees had created a maze of empty boxes. I stacked them neatly and returned to the van where I grabbed box after box until the delivery had been fully processed. Each step through the kitchen made it more familiar, and no one batted an eye at my presence. Victoria signed the invoice for Rick while Brida returned to her work, and I broke down the empty boxes. Dust smudges covered my shirt, and the rain outside made them worse. ¡°Where do these go?¡± I asked Victoria, gesturing to the empty boxes. ¡°You got those done already?¡± ¡°Are there more?¡± ¡°That should be it.¡± She inspected the neatly folded boxes, then nodded. ¡°Those go out back in the dumpster marked for cardboard. Not the other one. Make sure to close it when you¡¯re done, then come to my office. Did you see it when you came in?¡± ¡°I did.¡± ¡°Good,¡± she said. ¡°You have some paperwork to fill out before you can do any more work here. That okay with you?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± I could do a little paperwork if it meant starting my quest proper. Sam¡¯s ID would be put to its first real test. ¡°All right, Jon,¡± she said with a smile. ¡°I¡¯ll see you in a few minutes.¡± Chapter 5 22440 YD (1096 CE) The Valley of Whipping Tails, Cydrithenna
I had only read about the planet M¨¦narwen in textbooks, dreamt about it in fiction, and seen it in a holographic display of the Daerlyvian system. The planet was our closest neighbor and home to the Elves, many of whom joined us on the battlefield this day. Although disappointed to discover we would not be traveling off-world for my first battle, I happily agreed to meet my father¡¯s allies from M¨¦narwen in person. I had only seen one Elf before, a senator in the Daerlyvian Federation, whose voice my father needed for a vote. Alongside the Elves in our encampment were other soldiers from Federation factions: Daemons, Fae, and even a handful of Orcs. The brilliant glow of the magickal Daemons stunned me, and I endeavored to speak with one before the soldiers went into battle. Instead, my father commanded me to trail alongside the soldiers in his retinue, running errands, shining weapons, and doing whatever the other battle attendants told me to do. My age qualified me to be a battle page, and I would stay behind in the camp whilst those with more training fought our enemies. A lieutenant I served ordered me to collect blades from his tent, a peaceful task I could complete while also getting a sense of how lieutenants lived on the battlefront. I happily took the order and ran off to his tent to find the knife and sword he wanted. Just as I found the blades he sought, Varin interrupted me. He looked more like our father than I did, his black hair naturally straight, his brows thick. His light armor and battle regalia even gave him the same royal air as our father, but he would never have the same dignity. ¡°It¡¯s not fair,¡± he said. I blinked at him. What could be unfair about this? Though our numbers were greater than those of our enemies, the Stone Giants, our mother had said it was important that we not use our advanced technology against them, and that we fight with honor and respect. Federation law gave us this great honor to stand on the battlefield, and Varin still complained? Our jobs could easily be done by something far less alive and more automated. ¡°Stop staring at me like that, little brother. You look stupid.¡± I hid my tremble behind a meager illusion. Varin blocked the entrance, and I had to get back to the lieutenant immediately. ¡°What¡¯s not fair?¡± ¡°That I have to share my first battle with you. Why couldn¡¯t these savages just attack when I was your age?¡± I shrugged. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. I¡¯m still older than you, and you¡¯ll have to do what I tell you to do.¡± ¡°I know.¡± ¡°Good.¡± He smiled and stepped forward to ruffle my hair. ¡°By the Scales, your hair looks like it was styled by a little girl.¡± ¡°I have Mother¡¯s hair,¡± I said with a pout. ¡°That¡¯s why it looks that way.¡± He noticed the two sheathed blades I carried. ¡°Who are those for?¡± ¡°They¡¯re for¡ª¡± Varin plucked the small knife away from me and removed its sheath. ¡°Hey! That¡¯s not yours. You¡¯re not supposed to do that!¡± This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. ¡°I order you to show me these blades, little brother.¡± I held the heavy sword tight with one arm and reached for his hand. ¡°Give it back, Varin.¡± He spun away from me as he played with the blade against an invisible opponent. ¡°This knife is too light. I bet it couldn¡¯t even break a Giant¡¯s skin.¡± He laughed. ¡°Or an Elf¡¯s!¡± ¡°Varin, I need that¡ª!¡± I cried out in pain, dropping the sword and grabbing my palm. ¡°Looks like it can break your skin!¡± He howled with laughter. Hot blood covered my hand. I hissed through my teeth as tears welled in my eyes. ¡°You hurt me!¡± ¡°Of course I did. It¡¯s no less than you deserve, trying to grab a knife from my hand.¡± He tossed it on the ground. ¡°You¡¯ll probably have to clean that before you give it to your silly soldier friend. At least I was assigned to the general.¡± ¡°Not because you¡¯re special!¡± I spat back. ¡°You¡¯re supposed to be studying him, not coming in here and¡ª¡± I masked and rolled away from his shove. He¡¯d come at me with such force that he stumbled straight through my pitiful glamour. ¡°You cheated with magick, Solin!¡± ¡°Go away, Varin!¡± ¡°Not until you¡ª¡± ¡°Boys!¡± Our eyes shot toward the entryway to discover my displeased father. He had yet to be armored by his attendants, but he still appeared menacing. His dark brows were set into a permanent look of disappointment, and he stared at us until even our breaths were silent. ¡°How did you get hurt, Solin?¡± I regarded the stinging wound on my palm. ¡°Varin cut me.¡± ¡°He tried to grab the knife!¡± Varin protested. ¡°Because you stole it from me!¡± ¡°Enough!¡± Father marched closer until he loomed like a Giant. ¡°I did not bring you here to embarrass yourselves and our house. You are here to see how the Federation handles the aggression of its enemies and to learn how to obey orders since you will one day give them. You are not here to fight each other!¡± ¡°I wasn¡¯t trying to fight him,¡± I said. ¡°He cheated with magick!¡± said Varin. Father¡¯s demeanor changed to one more quizzical. ¡°What magick?¡± ¡°Oh, he didn¡¯t tell you?¡± Varin cast me a wicked smirk. ¡°Solin can use magick.¡± Father glowered at both of us. ¡°Varin, get back to your duties at once.¡± ¡°But, Father, Solin¡ª¡± ¡°Go!¡± Varin grumbled petulantly. ¡°Fine!¡± He stomped off, but not before giving me a scowl that would wilt forests. Father surveyed the tent and found a healing kit. He picked it up, then knelt beside me and took my hand. ¡°I¡¯m sure Lieutenant Selvar won¡¯t mind us borrowing this.¡± He nodded at a chair. ¡°Sit.¡± I sat down. My legs dangled off the side of the chair. As Father cleaned my palm of blood, he asked, ¡°Did he really take that blade from you?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°You mustn¡¯t reach for blades with your bare hands, son.¡± ¡°But he stole it!¡± I whimpered; my palm stung as he sanitized my wound. ¡°You will be fine,¡± he said. ¡°Pain is part of every battle. Even the ones without weapons.¡± He dried the wound and reached for a bandage. ¡°Have you been studying magick, Solin?¡± I stared at the healing kit and reluctantly nodded. ¡°Is it dangerous?¡± I shrugged. ¡°Can you show me what you did?¡± I nodded. ¡°Here.¡± He finished wrapping my wound, then stood and stepped back. ¡°Show me.¡± I hopped off the chair and bounced on my toes, examining my freshly bandaged palm, then masked myself as another chair. Father¡¯s brows perked with interest, and he brought a hand to his chin. ¡°Illusory magick. Very interesting. What else?¡± I bit my lip, unmasked, and concentrated until I projected a glamour of a chair. It flickered, and then it faded. Father sighed into a ¡°hmm,¡± then looked at me again. ¡°It¡¯s been quite some time since an illusory mage has been within our ranks, Solin. Whom are you learning this from?¡± I didn¡¯t answer. He sighed again, then knelt beside me, taking notice of the blood on my other hand. He took another cloth from the kit. ¡°You¡¯ll have to be careful, son,¡± he said as he cleaned me. ¡°As a senator, you might be tempted to make use of this power to exert your will.¡± I shook my head. ¡°No, I only use magick to get away from him.¡± ¡°Is that why you used it today?¡± I nodded. ¡°After he took the knife?¡± I nodded. ¡°I need you to speak up, Solin. A senator will need to speak, or the Drakons will have no voice in the Federation. A prince will need to speak, or the Drakons will have no one to command the troops.¡± ¡°Yes, Father.¡± ¡°We are on the battlefield. I am not your father here. You must respect chain of command, or you will lose soldiers.¡± ¡°Yes, Sire.¡± He smiled. ¡°Well, I will be your father until I exit the lieutenant¡¯s tent.¡± He patted my hair with his massive hand and kissed my forehead before standing. ¡°Be sure to clean his knife. This may not have been your doing, but the task must be done. Show Lieutenant Selvar you can do whatever it takes to get a job done.¡± I bowed my head at him. ¡°Yes, Father.¡± Chapter 6 22440 YD (1096 CE) The Valley of Whipping Tails, Cydrithenna
¡°I¡¯m going to fight four Stone Giants!¡± said Jemier, thrusting a stick into the air. Renny jumped in with a stick of his own. ¡°I¡¯ll fight forty!¡± He thwacked Jemier¡¯s stick, and the two played at swords while Varin crossed his arms and stared at the encampment, which had emptied of soldiers. ¡°None of you will be fighting anything,¡± Varin whined, kicking his toe into the downtrodden grass. ¡°We¡¯re not even with them.¡± ¡°Maybe not!¡± I grabbed a stick of suitable length using my off-hand, and prodded Varin, who swatted me away. I gave him a shrug and joined the Jemier-Renny duel. ¡°Make way for the blades of Foundry!¡± Eleric ran toward our three-way battle with a stick that had a tuft of shriveled leaves for a hilt. He had a roguish sparkle in his eyes, a devilish smirk, and a rosy-white complexion, with sun-gilded brown hair cut short and neatly coiffed. It did not stay so neat once he entered the battle. Jemier dodged; Renny parried. I hopped back. We clashed sticks back and forth while those we served clashed blades on yonder battlefield for the second day in a row. Renny knocked the tip of Jemier¡¯s stick so hard that it now dangled by woody threads, and all but one leaf remained on Eleric¡¯s hilt. I¡¯d already been disarmed once and hastily picked up another stick nearby after what I thought was the most daring somersault ever made in Drakon history. Our fight wove between tents and smoldering campfires, the sounds of our play bouncing off barrows and earning giggles from service staff. We uttered whooshes and booshes with every swing and connection. Eleric smirked and ran for a small, two-wheeled cart, which he scaled with ease. He balanced himself above the axle, daring someone to join him. ¡°You¡¯re mine, Foundry!¡± I ran and leapt to join him, and we fought like debonair rogues. ¡°Not the prince!¡± shouted Jemier, and to Renny¡¯s chagrin, he charged for our duel and jumped up beside me, causing the cart to seesaw and nearly topple Eleric onto our feet. Renny came to Eleric¡¯s aid, and we balanced precariously on the wooden vehicle until I fell, and Jemier caught me. Our newly allied opponents hopped down, forcing the duel to the ground, and we continued our whooshes and booshes until we circled back to Varin. Our mistake. He awaited us, clenching a teenaged branch. ¡°And then the gallant prince came to break up the war,¡± he said, smacking our sticks with every word, ¡°and peace and quiet came back to the lands!¡± He cackled when the last of our sticks fell to the ground, and we were left rubbing the jolts out of our wrists. ¡°I found the perfect stick!¡± Corian rounded a tent, holding her sword like a warrior. When she saw us standing around Varin, who¡¯d parted us with his fun-killing declaration of so-called peace, her shoulders dropped. Her eyes narrowed. And her shoulders squared again. She raised her stick-sword and charged at Varin, who raised his branch-sword, and when their blades met, I swore I heard the clanking of metal. Splinters flew. Corian gained ground. As she advanced upon him, Varin grew more irritated, his thick brow wrinkling and his cheeks dimpling into a sneer. With a forceful grunt, he shoved her to the ground. ¡°It¡¯s just pretend, Varin!¡± I said. ¡°You can¡¯t use your real strength when you pretend!¡± He held his branch against her neck. She didn¡¯t flinch. He smirked. ¡°I know it¡¯s pretend. I pretended to shift into a dragon, so I¡¯m stronger.¡± ¡°Dragons can¡¯t hold swords!¡± I protested. ¡°I parshifted,¡± he said. Of course he would use a technique as dangerous as a partial shapeshift. ¡°I still have my arms and everything, but I¡¯m stronger.¡± He bared his teeth and pressed the branch into the ground. ¡°See? I can still hold a sword.¡± He looked at her. ¡°Do you yield to the peace offered by the gallant prince?¡± She grabbed the branch and twisted her body, destabilizing Varin. He toppled to the ground. ¡°You can¡¯t grab a blade!¡± he said, trying to recover. ¡°Just ask my brother!¡± ¡°I¡¯m wearing magick gloves!¡± she countered. She wrested the branch free, turned it around so that she held the hilt, and subdued Varin. ¡°I will not yield.¡± Our cheers drowned Varin¡¯s response. Jemier even concocted a jingle about the gallant prince¡¯s demise, which Eleric and Renny joined him in singing. Varin stood, brushing himself of grass and dirt. ¡°Fine, if you fools want to sit here and play, then so be it. I only wanted you to stop so that we could watch the battle, but I guess I¡¯m going by myself.¡± Renny perked up. ¡°You¡¯re going to watch the battle?¡± ¡°Uh-huh. You can¡¯t see real swords and real Giants when you play.¡± ¡°I want to go!¡± said Renny. ¡°Me too!¡± said Jemier. Varin gave me a smug grin. ¡°How about the girls?¡± If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. ¡°Shut up,¡± said Corian. ¡°Of course I¡¯m going. Someone needs to make sure you all don¡¯t die.¡± Varin rolled his eyes. ¡°We¡¯re not gonna die, Scaleborn. Give it a break.¡± He folded his arms at Eleric. ¡°Well, Eleric of House Foundry? Are you coming, or are you staying behind with my damaged brother?¡± Renny giggled. Eleric looked between us. ¡°Prince Solin? Are you coming?¡± My head lolled back, and I groaned at the sky. ¡°Fine, I¡¯m coming.¡± ¡°Ha hah!¡± Varin clapped his hands together. ¡°Wait here.¡± He dipped inside a tent not belonging to him or our father and emerged with a sheathed sword. ¡°This should do!¡± ¡°You can¡¯t!¡± I said. ¡°Oh, why not? We should be protected. I¡¯m a prince, and all of this technically belongs to me anyway. Just don¡¯t go grabbing the blade with your bare hands this time.¡± Renny chuckled again. ¡°That¡¯s not what happened,¡± I said. ¡°Oh, shut up, little brother, and follow me.¡± Varin took us around the edge of the camp where we darted out of sight of those remaining. It seemed impossible for the six of us to huddle so close, especially when we came upon breaks in the bushes and transport vehicles. ¡°We are never going to make it, Varin,¡± said Corian. ¡°Shut up. Of course we will. We just need the soldiers to look the other way.¡± ¡°It¡¯s their job to look in our direction,¡± she said. ¡°Mostly to protect you and Solin!¡± Renny shushed us and pointed. We clustered closer, our breath collectively stilled, behind the flowering shrub. ¡°I¡¯m going to fall,¡± I whispered, having been nudged by whoever was behind me. ¡°No, you¡¯re not,¡± said Jemier. He wrapped his arms around me to steady me. ¡°Why won¡¯t she leave?¡± said Varin of the soldier who really wanted to stay at her post. ¡°I have an idea,¡± I said. ¡°Everyone be quiet.¡± I shut my eyes and focused, drawing up the first animal that came to mind. A spritely dog of caramel fur and floppy ears darted past the soldier. ¡°What the hell is that supposed to be, little brother?¡± ¡°A dog,¡± I said. ¡°Dogs don¡¯t run like that,¡± said Renny of the awkward way the dog galloped. ¡°Who cares,¡± said Varin. He pointed to the soldiers as they sprinted after the dog. ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡± We scrambled away from the shrub and toward the tree line where we kept up with Varin, who ran as though he knew where he was going. ¡°Do you hear that?¡± said Jemier, who ran alongside me. Thunder rolled in the distance. ¡°The roar of our ancestors!¡± Varin hadn¡¯t steered us wrong. We broke out of the woods and came face-to-face with the clamor of battle. Massive Stone Giants, their skin the wan grays and browns of boulders, barreled down upon our fellow Drakons and our allies. On yonder field, Daemons hovered steadfast behind an Elven unit, their bodies alight with colorful power. The magick of the elements soared over the heads of soldiers while bodies fell underfoot. I had never seen anyone die before. They fell, and they never got back up. It seemed¡­wrong. Doll-like. ¡°I want to get closer,¡± said Varin. ¡°You can¡¯t see anything good from here.¡± ¡°What good is there to see?¡± said Eleric. Renny and Jemier roared with delight as they ran with Varin toward the fray. Corian took a more cautious approach, and Eleric trailed after her. I walked with unease toward the cacophony, feeling as though someone had to watch them or else they would all become dolls, lost forever in death. Yet we drew nearer until we were at a natural barrier of the battlefield: a broken fence that had once sheltered the land¡¯s crops. We stayed behind the crossed wooden beams, watching Drakons fell those we were told were our enemies, and Varin whooped. ¡°I want to take one on myself!¡± He unsheathed the stolen sword and placed one foot on the lower beam of timber. I grabbed him by the arm. ¡°Wait!¡± A horde of Giants tromped by us, flanking the unit of Drakons that we observed. ¡°Get back!¡± shouted Corian. I yanked my brother off the fence. He dropped the sword, and we ran as a Giant tumbled toward us, colossal and heavy. The thud of his fall could not cover up the agony of his screams, and we froze, horrified and transfixed on the bloodiness before us. ¡°He¡¯s in agony!¡± said Renny. Corian thwapped my arm and pointed. ¡°It¡¯s the king!¡± My father, King Karrdil, slew Giant after Giant, wielding a sword heavier and taller than Varin. Beside me, Jemier howled with glee, and Varin clenched his fists and pumped them in the air as though this were a spectator sport. Renny blanched, and Eleric grimaced, watching from between knitted fingers. Corian trembled but stood strong. I tried to mimic her. My father¡¯s blade plucked foe after foe from existence. Supported by General Othuron Wraithstone, Jemier¡¯s father, the two destroyed the pack of Giants that had attempted to flank the unit. Their focus narrowed by the battle, they strode right past us but not before thrusting a sword each into the writhing Giant who¡¯d nearly crushed us. ¡°I want to do that,¡± said Varin, grinning with a curled lip. The field trembled. ¡°Earthquake?¡± said Renny. ¡°Magick,¡± said Corian. The ground beneath us shuddered. Clumps of dirt entangled with grass levitated into the air alongside sharp pebbles. We ran backward, tripping over the chunks of land that rose to meet the sky, smelling the moisture once buried in the luscious soil and watching worms fall like raindrops. Boulders shimmied out from the dirt and launched at my father and the general. My father shoved Jemier¡¯s father aside and grasped his pendant just as the boulder hit. ¡°No!¡± I cried out. ¡°Father!¡± shouted Varin. ¡°Wait!¡± said Jemier. The boulder cracked like thunder into a plume of dust and dirt shrapnel. We shielded our eyes from the onslaught of shattered land on our heads. A gale cut through us, and the battlefield soughed. Through the shouts of battle and the clinks of metal on metal, a dark mass emerged, winged and graceful, before being joined by another. Jemier hollered with joy, leading the cheer for the dragons. I smiled, watching as dragon after dragon ascended to the sky, their wings beating hard against the air, their roars mighty, their foes soon to be defeated. ¡°I want to do that,¡± I said. Drakanthropy. The gift of the Last Dragons to our Gaian ancestors. The bane of the Stone Giants, who had helped their Fire and Frost kin hunt the Last Dragons into extinction. ¡°We need to go,¡± said Eleric, the only one amongst us who would never shift. No one from House Foundry could. ¡°We need to go now¡ªwhoa!¡± We spun around to find ourselves face-to-face with a Stone Giant. ¡°Tiny Drakon children,¡± he said, or so I thought. I¡¯d only just begun studying the language. We collectively froze. His foot looked as big as one of us, and the spikes on his mace were longer than my arms. ¡°Tiny royal children!¡± He raised his mace over his head. ¡°I think I¡¯ll smash you!¡± He let out a cry, then stopped mid-swing. I glanced at those around me. Sweat poured down our faces. I held my finger to my lips. Renny breathed too hard. I breathed too hard. If any of us made a peep, the illusion I¡¯d just cast would break. ¡°Chairs?¡± said the Giant. He leaned down, peering at us, bringing his face closer and closer to those of us in the fore-ranks. My stomach stirred. Blood drained from my face, and my feet tingled. Two more Giants approached, staring at their comrade as though he were crazy. ¡°What is wrong with you?¡± said one. ¡°This is no time for mourning the dead.¡± ¡°Why are there chairs in the middle of the battlefield?¡± he replied. She shrugged. ¡°Perhaps the foolish Drakons thought this a sport.¡± She wasn¡¯t entirely wrong. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s go!¡± She and her comrade tugged on our predator, and the three tromped back to the battle with a mighty cry. I gathered my breath. ¡°Everyone¡­¡± I whispered. ¡°Everyone¡­run¡­now.¡± The illusion broke. Varin dashed ahead, his legs slightly longer, his body slightly stronger. Renny followed, waiting for Corian, who zipped past him. Eleric shook himself of the moment and ran. ¡°Come on, drathos!¡± said Jemier. ¡°You don¡¯t have to wait for us!¡± He grabbed my hand and we ran, legs pumping harder than they had ever pumped, until our lungs were aflame and our bodies were safely back in camp. Chapter 7 2017 Polaris, New York
I could not show my face in Gaia after what I¡¯d done. I doubted its people would forgive me if they discovered my identity; the moment would diminish and erase any redemptive work already completed. Any good deeds would be tainted by the revelation as many would probably think I¡¯d done them in the name of gratitude. Victims and survivors might feel further victimized by my attempts to make right what could never truly be made right. No, I could not show my face in many parts of this world after what I¡¯d done. But I could show it here, tucked away in a cramped kitchen with people who knew me only as Jon. Victoria placed me in the back where I cleaned and scrubbed dishes and moved boxes of food and supplies. Sometimes, I served our guests, but showing my face to so many all at once unnerved me. I always needed several minutes to settle in and forget I didn¡¯t have to hide. I enjoyed the mindless work behind the scenes because it freed my mind to think of other things, and those other things did not have to be my current problems or the roiling, untended hatred I bore for the elite of Drakon. Except for Jemier. I often thought of Jemier and how I missed him. Our time together before my exile had been full of strife, but as my closest friend, he knew all facets of me. He¡¯d trusted me when I¡¯d given him no real reason to. He¡¯d been the only one to protest during my second trial in the Court of the King. Amongst the betrayed faces at that sham of a legal ritual, amongst the glares that vowed vengeance, Jemier alone had joined my voice. Yet he was not here. I replayed what Sam had said about forgiveness; maybe Jemier¡¯s outburst hadn¡¯t come from the merciful place I¡¯d wanted it to, yet I still clung to the hope that he would not abandon me as so many others had. When the pans were scrubbed, the sinks were wiped down and sanitized, and the tables were cleared, I no longer thought of Jemier but rather of all I saw that day whenever I brought clean serving spoons and other dishes out to the serving line. I became familiar with my duties as well as the poverty that infected the city I now called home. Children were amongst those who visited, and I hated it. My father must have allowed thousands of children to die simply for being from a different, poorer faction. He¡¯d had his troops quell countless alleged uprisings. How many quellings had torn life from Cydrithenna, stripped communities of their wealth, and created more orphans and vows of vengeance? How similar the slow genocide of the poor was to the violent swiftness of smashing soft skulls. Why, given what Karrdil knew about me, had he not just killed me in my infancy as he had so many others? What purpose did I serve to him if I could not meet the most basic standard for royalty? I was an object to him. And as his belonging, I had performed many of those quellings for him. Been responsible for orphaning many and throwing families into poverty. I¡¯d been tempered to do it without thought. No wonder I¡¯d done the same here on Gaia. The kitchen could not staunch the flow of these deeper cuts. Although none of the children who ate here were orphans as far as the staff were aware, they were unfortunate in another way. Some had homes but little or no food to fill them. One or two regular families lived in vehicles. The meager increments I donated at the grocery market obviously did nothing for this community. I took to watching the news but found the national stories too revolting to swallow. I listened to Gaians argue with themselves over who was to blame for the kind of poverty at Our Lady of Sorrows; ofttimes these arguments were made by Gaians dressed in the high-end attire of this planet¡¯s elites. Did they not approach their roles with any awareness of their reach? Their responsibility? Were he still alive, Varin would¡¯ve fit right in, loving as he did the chaos of a blame game. I stopped watching such news channels when I came home late at night and relied on local news and the tablet. My anger with Gaians as a people remained, but the boiling rage reduced to a simmer. I didn¡¯t need the constant reminders of home. After two weeks, I learned how to cook meals that didn¡¯t taint the air, crinkle my nose, or bore my palate. The meals I made weren¡¯t extravagant, but I learned quickly how to transform them. I practiced at home, using the tablet as a guide. I found entertaining lectures given by a quirky fellow and ended up purchasing these lectures to watch anytime I desired on the device. I applied my knowledge to the kitchen at Our Lady of Sorrows. Cooking became part of my routine, drawing me farther away from the serving line that infuriated me and put my identity at risk. I saw the hungry in the quantities I cooked, and I vowed to become a better cook with each passing day. I wondered how much money I needed to live on and if Our Lady of Sorrows could make better use of it. But no matter how many I helped feed and how much I quietly donated, it seemed like we always ran out of food and served new faces amongst the regulars. I burned one batch of tonight¡¯s soup, encrusting the sides of the pot so badly that the mechanical dishwasher could not clean up my error. ¡°Let me help with some of these,¡± Brida said, joining me at the sole three-compartment sink while I scrubbed the pot. I often found Brida at my side, even when tasks called her elsewhere. ¡°Thank you.¡± ¡°No problem.¡± Her bun came undone and unraveled down her neck. Her black hair tie fell to the floor. I dried my hands, picked it up, and wiped it of dust. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. ¡°Here.¡± I handed it back to her, and she scrambled, ready to take it with her soapy hands, but then dried them off. Finding a piece of carrot stuck to them, she cursed and washed up properly, then took the hair band. ¡°Thanks,¡± she said, looping her hair through the tie. ¡°It¡¯s ugly, but does it look tight?¡± ¡°It looks secure to me.¡± ¡°Thanks.¡± I dipped my hands back into the soapy water to find my scrubber. ¡°I heard Alan didn¡¯t come in today.¡± ¡°They might¡¯ve found him somewhere,¡± she said very casually. She rewashed her hands. ¡°The others went looking for him?¡± Her lips parted slightly. ¡°No, I mean the police. They might¡¯ve, you know, found him.¡± ¡°Dead?¡± She nodded lightly. ¡°It happens sometimes if they can¡¯t find a bed.¡± ¡°Alan wasn¡¯t homeless, only hungry.¡± We didn¡¯t just feed those without homes. We fed the entire spectrum of this community¡¯s poor. The working. The sheltered. The people demonized for having children in a society that condemns them for wanting a choice in the matter. The train of thought upset me. I enjoyed the intellectual conversations I¡¯d had with Alan the few times I served on the line. He¡¯d given me insight into this planet¡¯s philosophers and their many flaws. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s right. Then I don¡¯t know what happened to him. Maybe things got better for him?¡± ¡°I hope so.¡± ¡°Jon,¡± she said. ¡°Sometimes it seems like, I don¡¯t know, you¡¯re not from around here.¡± ¡°Obviously, I¡¯m not,¡± I said. ¡°No, shit. Sorry, I don¡¯t mean because of your accent. I mean because you don¡¯t really know what¡¯s going on. And that¡¯s not a bad thing. I mean, it is a bad thing for normal people, but not for you because you¡¯re learning.¡± Her face turned from peach to pure pink. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I sound silly.¡± ¡°You always say that, and it¡¯s not true.¡± ¡°I say silly things.¡± ¡°I would tell you if you said silly things.¡± ¡°Would you?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± She smiled at me, then splashed some of her soapy water my way. Without thinking, I gave her a gentle splash back. She managed to get me far wetter than I got her. ¡°See?¡± I laughed as I scrubbed the last fleck of irritating burned soup from the bottom of the pot. ¡°I told you exactly how I felt about being splashed. Albeit with bubbles.¡± I lifted the pan, dumped the dirty water from within it, and moved it over to the last section of the three-compartment sink. Brida¡¯s washed dishes lined the bottom, awaiting a proper rinse. ¡°Are you done with those yet? You¡¯re taking up the rinsing sink, and I can¡¯t exactly go to another one.¡± She moved. ¡°We¡¯re fortunate, you know. Not every kitchen has one of these bad boys.¡± She made finger guns at the sink. ¡°This one is rusting.¡± ¡°Yeah, we know.¡± ¡°How much are they?¡± ¡°These sinks?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± She snorted. ¡°Are you kidding? You can¡¯t just go out and buy one of these things, moneybags.¡± I flicked a wad of bubbles at her. She flicked two back. I smiled, but no amount of bubble splashing could make either of us immune to the gravity of our work and Alan¡¯s potential situation. ¡°We should figure out what happened to Alan,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ll see what I can find out.¡± I rinsed the pot and set it aside to dry, then filled a bucket with soapy water to clean the butcher block. Brida ran a stack of clean trays out front only to return with Peter and Kyle in tow. ¡°You could come with us,¡± said Peter. ¡°And who¡¯s gonna fill in for me?¡± Brida shook her head. ¡°Can¡¯t do it.¡± I often tried to stay out of these group conversations, but this one involved work schedules, and I wouldn¡¯t let Victoria do this work alone. ¡°Sorry, can¡¯t do what?¡± ¡°Do you want to go?¡± Peter asked me. ¡°You don¡¯t want to go,¡± said Brida. ¡°I have work,¡± I said. ¡°And I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡± ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± said Peter to Brida. ¡°He¡¯s probably too old to care about this stuff anymore.¡± Tack on a millennia and then some. Still, insult received. ¡°Too old?¡± Peter shook his hands in apology. ¡°No, sorry, man, not like that. I just mean it¡¯s not something guys like you do anymore. Aren¡¯t you like, forty?¡± ¡°Stop it, Peter.¡± Brida gestured to me. ¡°Does he look forty to you?¡± ¡°I always thought twenty-seven,¡± said Kyle, holding his chin. I did the maturity conversion in my head while I washed the butcher block, then recalled what Sam had put on my identification. Close enough. ¡°Thirty-two, actually.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± Peter shrugged. ¡°Okay, so did you want to go with us?¡± ¡°He¡¯s working,¡± Brida said. She attempted to shepherd them back into the cafeteria. ¡°But you said you wanted to go, and now you won¡¯t. It can¡¯t just be the two of us.¡± Brida grinned. ¡°Are you scared?¡± Kyle chuckled. Peter shook his head. ¡°You¡¯re not supposed to go with only two people.¡± I set down my cloth. ¡°Someone please explain.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve got this,¡± said Brida. ¡°So, there¡¯s this old hospital, completely abandoned. And anyway, the news just said it¡¯s been bought by some company who plans to tear it down once the permits and whatever go through.¡± Ah. Now this I understood. ¡°You think it¡¯s haunted, don¡¯t you?¡± ¡°It¡¯s totally haunted,¡± said Peter. ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sure it must be.¡± Drakons, myself included, did not believe in ghosts. Such phenomena could always be explained by something natural or magickal. ¡°Well¡­¡± Brida raised her shoulders. ¡°There are stories.¡± This should be interesting. ¡°Like?¡± ¡°It¡¯s creepy,¡± said Kyle. ¡°Oh, well that solves it. Absolutely haunted.¡± I laughed quietly and cut through the group to dump the soapy water in the sink. ¡°No. You get in there, and you feel cold spots,¡± Peter said. A draft or poor insulation. ¡°I see.¡± ¡°And apparently you can see apparitions.¡± ¡°Oh yes, of course. Couldn¡¯t be haunted without a proper ghost.¡± ¡°My friend said she saw this glowing thing,¡± he said. ¡°And he could like, feel its thoughts.¡± Oh, well that was something different. A Daemon, perhaps? Why one would be hanging out at an abandoned hospital on an entirely different planet, I couldn¡¯t say. ¡°I heard that too,¡± said Kyle. ¡°Did you guys hear about the time someone found an entire room of ice?¡± Brida asked. The two enthusiastic ghost hunters nodded and uttered various words of agreement. ¡°Ice happens in the winter,¡± I said. ¡°It was a few weeks ago.¡± Okay, that could have been elemental magick¡­ Frost Giant? Too noticeable. Frost Elf? Perhaps. Daemon? That synced with the story of the glowing being. ¡°What¡¯s the name of this hospital?¡± Peter¡¯s eyes lit up. ¡°Wait, do you want to go?¡± ¡°I¡¯m merely curious about the local legend.¡± ¡°Saint Mary¡¯s,¡± said Brida. ¡°Seriously, don¡¯t go with them. They just want to walk around and scare the crap out of themselves. They¡¯re not interested in the architecture or anything.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not planning on it.¡± ¡°Aw, man.¡± Peter¡¯s shoulders slumped. ¡°Guess we¡¯ll find someone else. You sure you don¡¯t wanna come with, Brida?¡± ¡°I said I can¡¯t.¡± ¡°Fine.¡± He nodded at Kyle, and the two finally returned to their work out front. ¡°I should get back to work too,¡± she said. ¡°Look up Saint Mary¡¯s when you can. It¡¯s kinda cool.¡± If it meant finding evidence of a Daemon? ¡°I¡¯ll do that. Thanks for the local history lesson.¡± She smiled. ¡°No problem.¡± Chapter 8 2017 Polaris, New York
I returned home that night and showered for a long while, letting the water take away the pains in my back and shoulders while the oven in my little kitchen preheated. What if a Daemon was occupying that hospital? A being with such an innate gift for magick could break this curse. Yet I couldn¡¯t explain why a Daemon would choose not just Gaia, but the city I happened to live in as a base for their lurk-and-scare-locals operations. Just an urban legend. It had to be. I didn¡¯t bother dressing when I stepped out, preferring the white towel I¡¯d purchased using the primitive tablet, which had become my only real companion. I¡¯d acquired many common Gaian necessities using it and happily saw many of those things arrive the next day. I¡¯d already amassed a library of digital and physical books, and despite loving books, I could not read them as fast as I purchased them. As I stepped out of the bathroom, which is an odd name for a room with a shower and no bath, I spotted a neglected heap of clothing beside the washer. I had little use for bright or warm colors, and I never wore jeans as many in the kitchen did. Perhaps that made me seem too formal for all of them, but the subtle, small pattern of denim fabric reminded me of uncomfortable Elvish textiles I¡¯d been forced to wear once as a child. I needed to figure out a schedule for all that laundry. Later. For now, brownies, something Brida had once mentioned as being her favorite treat. I brought my tablet to the kitchen. The recipe¡¯s photographs made them appealing, and I¡¯d come to enjoy chocolate very much. I¡¯d just measured the flour when my phone beeped at me. I rarely received calls¡ªVictoria calling for an interview at the kitchen was probably the only one¡ªand I probably should have known that Sam would give his own number an obnoxious ringtone, which consisted of very high-pitched beeps, interrupted by his voice repeating, ¡°Pick up; it¡¯s me.¡± I dusted my floury hands on my damp towel and walked over to the phone. It beeped again. This time, I realized the beeps were also made by Sam¡¯s voice. What a child. ¡°What.¡± ¡°Grateful, aren¡¯t we?¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m doing something.¡± ¡°So, put me on speakerphone.¡± ¡°Explain.¡± ¡°Look at your phone,¡± he said. ¡°But then how will your primitive microphones capture my voice?¡± ¡°Just do it.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t hear you if I look at the phone.¡± He groaned. ¡°When you look at your phone and make the screen pop up again, you can hit the Speakerphone button.¡± I did so, and he must have heard the change in room tone because he asked, ¡°Got it now?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± I said, heading back to the kitchen. ¡°It took me longer to explain speakerphone to you than it will for me to tell you what I need to tell you,¡± he said. I washed and dried my hands, then returned to baking. ¡°I take it you are not calling to ask me how I¡¯ve been doing.¡± ¡°No, I am calling about that, but it sounds like you¡¯re¡ªdid you just crack an egg?¡± I set the shells aside as I cracked another. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Are you making breakfast for dinner?¡± ¡°I¡¯m making brownies.¡± ¡°Special brownies?¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°This would be easier if¡ªokay, stand up your phone and hit the camera-looking button.¡± ¡°I have egg on my hands.¡± ¡°Better than having egg on your face. Come on. I need evidence that you¡¯re baking brownies.¡± I grumbled. ¡°I¡¯m not letting you photograph me for your own amusement, Sam.¡± The phone¡¯s screen lit up, and Sam¡¯s bemused face appeared. ¡°Hey, where are you?¡± I leaned over the phone. ¡°Sam, knock it off.¡± ¡°Where¡¯s your shirt?¡± ¡°I¡¯m obviously not wearing one.¡± ¡°And your hair¡¯s not straight.¡± I walked away at that point, needing to wash my hands of raw egg. I hadn¡¯t quite perfected the one-handed cracking technique I saw in the cooking shows yet. I started mixing. ¡°Do get to the point, Sam. You¡¯ve seen my hair curl before.¡± ¡°Point one is that you haven¡¯t called me once, except that one time that I assume was a butt-dial.¡± ¡°A what? I didn¡¯t call you.¡± ¡°Exactly. But you could¡¯ve let me know you were using me as a reference for that job.¡± ¡°Sorry. Should I have used my father? I¡¯m not sure he has reception on my planet.¡± ¡°Doubt he would¡¯ve given you a glowing reference anyway, given the situation you¡¯re in.¡± ¡°Did you?¡± ¡°Maybe. Did you get the job?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°You¡¯re welcome.¡± I groaned. ¡°I presume there¡¯s a point two.¡± ¡°There is. Point two is that he¡¯s here.¡± I stopped. ¡°Who? My father?¡± ¡°Your friend.¡± ¡°Jemier?¡± ¡°I think so. He¡¯s the one who came here to capture you the last time you were here, right?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Has anyone else ever come here for you?¡± ¡°I haven¡¯t been here for five Gaian years, Sam. I hid elsewhere. I don¡¯t know who¡¯s come and gone to this planet while they hunted me.¡± ¡°So it¡¯s probably him, then.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t know? Where are you?¡± ¡°Well, not here, like with me. But here. Locally. Think he¡¯s coming to see you?¡± ¡°He can¡¯t find me.¡± I had no idea if that was true or not, but it must have been, considering his absence. Someone might¡¯ve told him exactly where I was. I had no doubt that my father sent jailers in the shadows to spy on me. ¡°Well, he didn¡¯t show up anywhere that makes any sense.¡± Like an abandoned hospital? ¡°Where then?¡± ¡°Some park on the other side of town.¡± Oh. Not a hospital, then. Maybe I misunderstood how Sam had received this information. ¡°How are you tracking him?¡± ¡°Tech and some other tricks. The same way I found you.¡± I shook my head. ¡°Forget this; just get to the point. What are you saying?¡± ¡°First, I¡¯m saying that I want to see you make these brownies, so lean your phone against¡ª¡± ¡°Sam.¡± ¡°Second, I¡¯m saying that this could be your chance.¡± ¡°Chance to do what?¡± ¡°Go home?¡± ¡°I doubt I¡¯d make it home in this pathetic Gaian body.¡± ¡°It looks like your body. Not that I¡¯ve seen it before today.¡± ¡°It is my body, but it¡¯s cursed to act Gaian.¡± ¡°Cursed? It¡¯s a legit spell doing this to you¡ª?¡± I¡¯d said enough. ¡°Phone, disconnect.¡± ¡°That one doesn¡¯t have voice commands set up.¡± ¡°Then I will set them up later.¡± ¡°Have fun with that.¡± I peered over the phone just enough to glare at him. ¡°Do not tell him where I am.¡± ¡°Your face and your words don¡¯t match, Curly Sue.¡± ¡°What¡¯s a Curly Sue?¡± ¡°A movie. Never mind.¡± He looked ready to disconnect, muttering, ¡°Am I the only one out of the dark ages?¡± He sighed and returned to our conversation. ¡°Don¡¯t underestimate humanity. We can get shit done when we need to.¡± The call disconnected then, and I shrugged and put my brownies in the oven. The people at Our Lady of Sorrows never tasted those brownies. For that matter, neither did I. All I could taste was the horrifying carbon that the brownie bottom had transformed into. I blamed the tablet, which had provided thin information on this Curly Sue. I browsed site after site but needed to do laundry. Then I had a bathroom break, and apparently the timer for the oven went off at the same time as the washer. The oven beeped at me again, but I needed a few more minutes to figure out what drink went best with brownies. Several sites agreed on milk. Not good enough. As I scrunched my nose in disgust at the prospect of blending chocolate and milk, I smelled what that damned primitive tablet had made me do. The brownies emerged from the oven after a dramatic procession of thick, gray smoke. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Brida laughed when I told her about my incident with the brownies, confirming that milk was the beverage of choice unless one was vegan. I did not understand what Vega had to do with anything. Then she corrected me and told me that some Gaians believed consuming other species to be a form of cruelty. I researched the topic on my untrustworthy tablet, only to go down a tunnel of information on social activism and food privilege. A fond but unwanted memory invaded my mind. A conversation with someone I hadn¡¯t seen in some time, someone I could not think about right now because it would complicate my exile further. Someone who held similar ideals to the Gaians I read about. I respected that Gaians embraced more and more the progressive ideals found in the Federation but lacking in Drakon. Our history has been bent and used as a shield for the ignorant in our society. Drakons must responsibly reproduce to preserve our gifted blood from the Last Dragons and honor our promise to protect it. Any marriage not made with responsible reproduction in mind is a marriage not recognized unless, of course, the marriage occurs outside of Drakon borders in Federation territory. Drakons would¡¯ve approved of my bubbly exchanges with cisgender women like Brida, less so my exchanges with some former lovers. But my dragon DNA was only one facet of me. The only one Drakons wanted. The rest of me was disposable. On top of spoiling the brownies this week, Jemier never turned up. Although initially averse to seeing him, I waited for him. I wanted to show him that I had kept the promise I had made to Karrdil, to him. That I would find redemption even in this cursed state of being. I kept information and pamphlets I had regarding the work at Our Lady of Sorrows visible. I made sure I had enough food to entertain him should he visit and be hungry. I had even purchased some clothing that I hoped would fit him, knowing that his Cydrithennan clothing and armor would be suspicious. More selfishly, I did not want him to compromise me in any way. The more normal he appeared, the better. I wanted to do penance for my crimes, not pay for them in a manner that my enemies at the Alliance and elsewhere would have approved of, which would have been annihilation. Then who would do my work at Our Lady of Sorrows? Certainly not an Alliance agent. Certainly not the marketplace, which I patronized rather frequently despite my disdain for their stance on charity. I counted the days since Sam¡¯s call about Jemier. I washed and straightened my bedclothes. I even purchased an additional pillow and blanket for Jemier to use should he wish to lodge with me. All of that was tucked away, clean and waiting, because Jemier could not know that I missed him. Night after night, I waited, lazily listening to a somewhat reliable foreign news network while I used my tablet. I continued learning about Gaia and its culture. I stayed away from irrelevant links, especially after seeing the damage they could do to a batch of brownies. The wait plagued me. I struggled to get out of bed. I dragged myself to work. I often lost my appetite and thus the will to continue my cooking lessons. Some nights I came dangerously close to becoming ill, and one night I did for no reason other than the suffering caused by my curse and my past. Other times, my anger surged so intensely that I broke anything I could, including the section of wall above the clothes washer, which had a fist-sized hole in it until I learned how to repair it. My hand, unfortunately, did not repair as easily. I hadn¡¯t expected the wall to be so formidable. For the umpteenth day in a row, I stared at the screen of my tablet. Dwelling on Jemier had stolen too much time from me. I glanced outside as though the buildings across the street held some glimmer of Cydrithenna. The sky had darkened since I¡¯d last looked. My midday surge of energy waned. Misery returned uninvited. I picked up my phone, resolving to do something about this dreadful state of being and research the abandoned hospital. The phone chirped its text alert. Brida. We¡¯d exchanged numbers earlier this week for work purposes, yet neither of us were scheduled today. Something must be wrong.
Received: hey Sent: Hello, Brida. Received: how¡¯s it goin Sent: Okay. You? Received: i¡¯m okay. what r u up to? burning more brownies? ? Sent: I will never commit such an atrocity against baked goods again. Received: it¡¯s okay, i can be ur guinea pig if u want. i¡¯ve never turned down a brownie before. even burned. Received: i can eat around the bad parts. ?
I had lied to her about how I was. Could she ignore the bad parts of me as well? Our flirtations had grown in number lately, but I couldn¡¯t pursue anything romantic or sexual with her. I would be bound by my own quest for redemption to tell her the truth at some point, and she would feel violated if she knew she had loved a killer. If I could even be loved.
Sent: I shall give you nothing less than perfection.
Upon rereading, I realized I probably did not put the stop on our flirtation as hoped.
Received: u awake enough to chat for real? can i call u? Sent: Of course.
I lied again. Jemier¡¯s absence twisted my stomach, and I needed to keep the phone free in case Sam detected him again. Maybe Jemier hadn¡¯t been the one who¡¯d walked through that portal. Regardless, I kept mistaking the distant thunder from the coming storm as someone walking through the hall outside. I desired to see a familiar face that would make me feel at home. The phone lit up with her call. I answered, and she sounded far less happy than the small pictographs in her texts had suggested. ¡°I didn¡¯t get it,¡± she said. The position at the other kitchen. She¡¯d confided in me a few days ago. Something had upset her after all. ¡°You had all the qualifications. They are fools if they could not see that.¡± ¡°I fucked up the interview. He asked me if I¡¯d be able to memorize the menu, and I said I could, and that I¡¯d been a server before and was working in the kitchen now.¡± ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound like you screwed it up.¡± ¡°But did I come off as too forceful?¡± ¡°No. It sounds like he put you on the defensive, accused you of not being able to do it.¡± ¡°That was kinda how it felt¡­I don¡¯t know.¡± ¡°I am sorry.¡± She had a bright mind, and the fact that whoever had interviewed her could not see that baffled and angered me. I got the sense from her tone that it baffled her as well, and we both seemed to understand what was really at play here. ¡°It¡¯s fine, it¡¯s just¡­¡± Her words shook. I could do nothing for her, and harming the man who¡¯d harmed her hardly seemed like a step on the path toward redemption. ¡°I might have to leave the kitchen if I can¡¯t find something soon. Maybe I could find a paying kitchen or something like that. I think the one on Lambert Street is paid. Not much but paid. They need administrators to do office stuff.¡± I did not want her to leave Our Lady of Sorrows. ¡°Do you live close to Lambert?¡± ¡°No, but I could take two buses. I looked at the route earlier today.¡± I sighed, and she sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t really want to leave everyone at the kitchen though,¡± she said. Thunder rumbled. I glanced at the windows, missing thunderstorms on Cydrithenna. I used to watch them from the balcony that opened from my bedchamber. ¡°It can be difficult going to a new place all alone.¡± She sniffled. ¡°I know. I don¡¯t want to start over.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know where Lambert is,¡± I said absentmindedly. I could not leave Our Lady of Sorrows. We were a busy kitchen, and we truly did need all the help we could get. I did not know if Lambert needed more, but I knew that if I began weighing the kitchens against each other, I would be weighing lives against one another, and it didn¡¯t sit well in my already-tumultuous stomach. ¡°It¡¯s far. I just don¡¯t know what to do anymore. Maybe I should just go back to school and forget this whole nonprofit thing. I¡¯m sick of having a gazillion part-time jobs. Oh god, I might have to get a roommate.¡± Knock. I stood up from the sofa and headed for the door. ¡°That should help you with some of the costs,¡± I said, opening the door. I poked my head out in the most discreet way I could and found my neighbor down the hall. Not a threat, but also not Jemier. I gave them a wave and retreated to my apartment. ¡°Am I bugging you? Are you going somewhere?¡± ¡°No, I¡¯m a shut-in.¡± ¡°So am I. We should just, you know, go out and do something and get out of the house and forget everything.¡± ¡°Go out?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°It¡¯s pouring,¡± I said. Plus, Jemier could arrive at any moment. ¡°So what? That¡¯s what umbrellas are¡ª¡± The phone beeped in my ear. ¡°Hold on, someone is on the other line.¡± I¡¯d learned why the lingo meant what it meant only the week before. ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll be here.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll come back,¡± I promised, and I hit the button to converse with Sam. ¡°What.¡± ¡°Just go out with her already. He already left a few days ago.¡± In true Gaian form, I rolled my eyes and said, ¡°Fuck off.¡± I returned to Brida. ¡°I don¡¯t own an umbrella,¡± I said, giving a furious look at the tablet and its software for not having suggested this purchase. ¡°I do. I¡¯ll come get you. We can walk to the caf¨¦ near the kitchen.¡± ¡°Which one?¡± ¡°Star Caf¨¦.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve never been there.¡± ¡°Really? It¡¯s nice. Text me your address.¡± My address. Tell another Gaian where I lived. I glanced at the clothing I¡¯d purchased for Jemier. ¡°All right. See you soon.¡± ¡°See you.¡± The moment I hung up, I scrambled for the obnoxious wallet that held my manufactured identification, longing for the technology of home. I needed my zip code, didn¡¯t I? I held the button on my phone, attempting to dictate the contents of my address into a message to Brida, but it couldn¡¯t understand my accent or really anything else. I grumbled and texted her the address, zip code free. While waiting for her to arrive, I messaged Sam.
Sent: Stop eavesdropping. Received: you told me to keep an eye on you and this is the only way i know how Received: tell me what you want Sent: Tell me when certain people leave. Received: fine. that all? Sent: No, but I¡¯m busy. We¡¯ll talk about this later. Received: okay, but you¡¯re the one who texted me
I grumbled and shoved my phone into my pocket. Brida found my apartment easily. ¡°Cute place,¡± she said, leaning a little on her closed umbrella and peeking inside. ¡°Ready?¡± ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± I held the umbrella on our walk, given our height difference. It was a darling thing, a ladybug of bright red with large black polka dots. It suited her, this umbrella that existed in a sea of drab charcoals and navy blues. It resisted the gray of the rain much like she unknowingly helped me do. She saw the city, even in the fade of the day, through different lenses than most. A future memory flickered while we walked. Me beside her, grazing the peaks of her knuckles. Her beside me, slipping her hand into mine. Us walking this road every night to this caf¨¦. Her lips on mine. ¡°What is it?¡± she said in the middle of our conversation about the dog in the raincoat that just passed us. I smiled at her. ¡°Nothing.¡±
She smiled back. We entered through a wet entryway into a caf¨¦ of heavenly scents and long lines. I stared at the chalkboard signage hanging all over the walls, attempting to decipher the menu and make an informed choice about my future purchase. The register attendee was sent on break by her reliever, offering me several additional seconds of browsing. ¡°May I help you?¡± said the brown-skinned barista once he settled in. Armand, according to his nametag. Handsome, according to me. ¡°Can I have a large vanilla triple-shot, please?¡± said Brida. ¡°And a suspended coffee.¡± I had no idea what any of that was. The barista did. He smiled an infectious smile, and I noticed the shape of his ears and the many earrings in both. ¡°And you?¡± Everything seemed to have milk in it. ¡°What do you have instead of milk?¡± ¡°Do you like coconut?¡± I had no idea. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°We have coconut milk.¡± Right, from the cooking shows on TV. ¡°Yes, that please. The frothy way.¡± ¡°A latte? What size?¡± This was getting more complicated than one of my illusions. ¡°Large.¡± He thanked us and gave us our total. ¡°This one¡¯s on me,¡± I said to Brida. ¡°Not gonna turn that down,¡± she said, putting her wallet away. ¡°Thanks, Jon.¡± We picked up our drinks and found a seat near the windows. We watched the rain and the people caught in it. As I sat in that cozy caf¨¦ with Brida, sipping my hot latte, I understood yet another joy of being Gaian. Something about the quiet white noise of the baristas at work, the typing and conversing patrons, and the smashing of cold rain outside while we were warm within gave me peace. I glanced for Jemier outside anytime someone entered with his posture, hair color, or height, but I did not feel as homesick and distraught as I had earlier. ¡°So, what do you think?¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯s nice,¡± I said of the drink. The frothy texture was perfect. The flavor, more than acceptable. Armand had made a perfect latte. ¡°I meant this place.¡± ¡°It¡¯s also nice,¡± I said. Her fingers tapped the edge of her paper cup. ¡°What did you order back there? A suspended coffee? Where is it?¡± ¡°It¡¯s waiting for someone in need,¡± she said. ¡°So they can just walk in and get it.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± I had much to learn about charity on Gaia. ¡°Would you excuse me for a moment?¡± She grinned. ¡°Going up to buy a suspended coffee?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°So formal.¡± I reentered the line and found myself faced with Armand again. ¡°How¡¯s the latte?¡± he asked. ¡°Perfection,¡± I said. ¡°I strive to serve nothing less.¡± He flashed me another smile. ¡°What else can I get you?¡± ¡°A suspended coffee.¡± He rang it in. ¡°Anything else?¡± ¡°Actually, add two more to that.¡± He nodded. ¡°That¡¯s very kind of you.¡± I read the chalkboard. ¡°I don¡¯t see these on your menu.¡± ¡°It¡¯s kind of this secret thing people do.¡± ¡°Maybe it could be less secret.¡± Armand curled his lip, then nodded, a subtle grin forming on his face. ¡°I¡¯ll pass it along.¡± I paid and returned to Brida, who shook her cup with disappointment. ¡°Damn. Empty.¡± ¡°Would you like another?¡± ¡°No thanks,¡± she said. ¡°I should probably get going. This was nice, Jon.¡± I nodded. ¡°It was.¡± ¡°Can I walk you home?¡± ¡°How about I walk you home?¡± ¡°I have the umbrella.¡± ¡°That you do.¡± Brida walked me home, the rain still pounding hard, the streetlamps making pools of fire in the puddles that surrounded us. We parted with gentle waves and smiles, but I did not ask to kiss her, and I did not invite her in. The latte kept me alert and made my heart pound harder than normal, according to a doctor on the information network. I discovered that decaffeinated beverages would prevent that from occurring. Good. I enjoyed lattes and the way Armand had crafted mine. But despite the energy thumping in my chest, the contentment I¡¯d found in the the caf¨¦, Brida, and the latte slipped away, stolen by the rain and the loneliness of my empty living space. Jemier had not arrived. He agreed with the king and wanted nothing to do with me. I would be stuck in this human curse forever. I watched Good Eats on my tablet while the news played on the television and fell asleep with both still on. Chapter 9 2017 Polaris, New York
I held the mobile phone with an unsteady grip. ¡°Call Sam,¡± I said. Its screen remained dark and petulant. ¡°Call. Sam,¡± I repeated. Nothing. I glared at the phone, then moved my gaze toward the bottle of Scotch on my counter. I¡¯d tried and hated this style of whisky once before. The clerk at the store had insisted I would like this one better. ¡°Aged in a sherry cask,¡± she¡¯d said. She had the right idea. I liked this one a lot better. I finished what remained in my mug, then picked up the phone again. ¡°Call¡ª¡± Sam¡¯s photo appeared on the screen, lighting up my night-darkened apartment. His obnoxious ringtone played. I fumbled, nearly dropping the phone after that surprise, and answered coolly, ¡°What.¡± ¡°I told you before; you can¡¯t just tell it to do something unless you prompt it first.¡± ¡°Are you spying on me again?¡± ¡°A little, but only because I was already going to call you, and I wanted to make sure it was a good time.¡± ¡°I am unnerved by your uncanny ability to infiltrate my life on a whim.¡± ¡°I¡¯m protecting you. We can talk about that now if you want. I¡¯ll stop if you don¡¯t want me to do this anymore. Sorry. Should¡¯ve asked. It¡¯s just how you and I used to¡ªanyway.¡± I shrugged, although he couldn¡¯t see it. The Scotch made me remember what Sam referred to, how he and I had first met, and what we¡¯d agreed constituted as his protection. I could believe his motivation for keeping such close tabs. He¡¯d never given me a reason to doubt him, whereas I had given him plenty. ¡°What do you want?¡± I asked. ¡°You first.¡± ¡°No. I¡¯m sad.¡± He let out a surprised huff of laughter, then covered and said, ¡°You¡¯re¡­sad.¡±
I poured more Scotch into my mug. ¡°Eleric hasn¡¯t visited me yet.¡± ¡°Thought you were waiting for Jemier?¡± ¡°Who cares about Jemier? I¡¯m telling you a story about Eleric.¡± ¡°A story,¡± he said flatly. ¡°About why you¡¯re sad.¡± ¡°Very sad.¡± ¡°Very drunk¡¯s more like it.¡± I winked at him. He couldn¡¯t see that either. ¡°Very correct.¡± ¡°You should not be drinking if you¡¯re sad. Also, I¡¯m in town, so how about I drop by and we chat?¡± ¡°Aren¡¯t you alive in this town?¡± ¡°Do you mean do I live here?¡± Whatever. English wasn¡¯t my first language. It wasn¡¯t even in the first ten. ¡°Yes, in this city.¡± ¡°I have a place here that I find myself at more often these days.¡± ¡°You have two places here.¡± I held up two fingers to the skylight. ¡°Uh, yeah. Try not to drink too much before I get there.¡± ¡°I¡¯m running out of things to drink.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not changing that for you.¡± When he arrived at my door an agonizing few minutes later, he handed me a brown bag and said, ¡°I might be changing that for you. I was already on my way. That¡¯s why I was calling. Wanted to catch you up on some tech stuff, but I guess we¡¯ll talk about El-rick or whatever.¡± ¡°Eleric,¡± I said. ¡°Okay, I still don¡¯t know who that is. Want some takeout?¡± Another bag appeared in his hand. Its contents smelled delicious, and I had to have them immediately. I snatched the bag and brought it to my kitchen where I haphazardly emptied it with the intent of loading whatever it contained onto a plate. ¡°You can just eat it out of the container,¡± Sam said, tossing his light-gray blazer over the back of my¡ªor was it his?¡ªsofa. ¡°You can use these chopsticks or a fork. There¡¯re no rules. Just make sure I get some of¡­that box, got it?¡± ¡°Yes sir.¡± ¡°Tell me about Eleric.¡± ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Because you made a point of mentioning him.¡± I stuffed an adequate amount of delicious fried noodles into my mouth first. ¡°Eleric¡¯s an asshole.¡± ¡°For not visiting you?¡± He browsed the containers, then decided to take noodles from the one I held. I glared at him. ¡°Has he ever been here before? What about that other guy? The dragon dude, Jemier. The one that showed up on my radar?¡± This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡°He¡¯s not visiting either.¡± I snatched a hunk of noodles and tried to pry it from the hunk Sam was still pulling at. ¡°How do you know he¡¯s a dragon dude?¡± ¡°Same way I know you¡¯re a dragon dude.¡± ¡°But how do you know specifically that he can become a dragon?¡± ¡°Because I used to work for the Alliance, remember? Who worked for the people who answered to yourpeople, specifically your dad, a dragon dude? You came to our headquarters a few years ago? That¡¯s how we met? Any of this ring a bell?¡± ¡°I remember. You don¡¯t have to be so condescending.¡± He didn¡¯t get the question, and the obstinate noodle hunks were not separating from one another. ¡°Let go.¡± ¡°What, you don¡¯t want to Lady and the Tramp it?¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°Never mind.¡± ¡°I thought you still worked with the Alliance, and all of this¡ª¡± I gestured with my noodles. ¡°¡ªwas some sort of big secret.¡± ¡°Uh¡­no. That¡¯s not what¡¯s going on.¡± ¡°So what is going on?¡± ¡°Nothing that won¡¯t piss me off to tell you. Hand me that box there?¡± I did so. He fed himself chicken while I greased my lips with noodles. ¡°Anyway, so your best friend, Jemier, the dude that came here a few years ago just to bring you home, won¡¯t come here to visit you now. Part of the exile deal?¡± ¡°Something like that.¡± ¡°But not that, so what is it?¡± ¡°What happened with you and the Alliance?¡± ¡°Another time. This is your time. Solin¡¯s Ex-sad-a-ganza.¡± ¡°Never say that word again please.¡± ¡°Ex-sad-a¡ª¡± ¡°Jemier is the heir to the throne of Heartwing.¡± ¡°Ah. Okay.¡± He nodded, then poked more chicken. ¡°Heartwing. Cute name. Very fantasy. Thought you were the prince? Is Jemier your brother or cousin or something?¡± ¡°Yes, I am a prince, and no, he¡¯s not family. We weren¡¯t raised in the same household, and my brother is dead, and my father and everyone else thinks I did it, which I didn¡¯t. Anyway, that¡¯s why Jemier was named heir even though he¡¯s outside of our house, and now I hate him because he said he did it to free me from jail, but I think he did it because he¡¯s a little¡­a little sneak-a-sneak!¡± Sam laughed and cracked open a beer before leaning on the island and stuffing more chicken into his mouth. ¡°I need to catch up to you.¡± He took a healthy sip of the beer I had a mild interest in trying. ¡°So Jemier¡¯s the rock star here, but you¡¯re wanting this El-rick to come to rescue you?¡± ¡°El-er-ric,¡± I said, feeling very fond of this tiny corn cob and its tiny little texture. ¡°Who¡¯s not even part of this story. Are you listening?¡± ¡°Yeah, a little too well, apparently.¡± I stared unseeing at the kitchen sink. ¡°We¡¯re not friends, Sam.¡± ¡°But I¡¯m all you¡¯ve got, and you know it. Chicken?¡± I eyed the orange-ish ball and the utensils that held it warily. ¡°Those sticks were in your mouth.¡± ¡°Lots of things have been in my mouth, Solin.¡± ¡°Mine too.¡± Sam snorted and dropped the chicken with a splat. ¡°Oops.¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯m definitely not eating that now.¡± I picked it up with my fingers and tossed it unsuccessfully into the garbage. It fell with another plop. ¡°I might be a little drunk.¡± Sam picked it up and placed it inside the trash. ¡°You think?¡± He came back and picked up the box, offering me chicken in a more befitting manner than before. ¡°So, you¡¯re not the heir because they think you killed your brother for what, the crown? Like you were in some movie or something?¡± ¡°Yes! Yes, exactly like that!¡± I picked up what remained of my Scotch and downed it in a celebratory manner. ¡°We fought before he died, and I don¡¯t care that he¡¯s dead. I didn¡¯t kill him. But he¡¯s dead, and I don¡¯t care. I doubt we share DNA. I¡¯m not worthy; did you know that?¡± ¡°You¡¯re losing me.¡± ¡°Jemier was made heir because his dragon is strong and massive. How fucking phallic.¡± ¡°Honestly, I¡¯m not sure you¡¯re not talking about his dick.¡± I grimaced and shook my head at him. ¡°No, I¡¯m talking about his dragon. It makes him a worthy heir. I am merely brilliant and have studied every facet of everything ever and have been the only Felwing to get anything done in millennia, and I get nothing.¡± I lifted another piece of chicken from the box. ¡°Where is Eleric?¡± ¡°Now you want Eleric again?¡± ¡°I want what you¡¯re drinking.¡± ¡°How about some water?¡± Sam said. * I awoke with a headache and the odd sense that I was not alone. The high-pitched hum of something electronic confirmed that. I groaned and rolled over. Sam sat on the sofa, watching a muted television. He turned around and looked at me with a smile. ¡°Hey, sunshine. You feeling good?¡± ¡°Embarrassed.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t let you get any more trashed. You just got tired, so I let you sleep.¡± ¡°I recall.¡± Vaguely. ¡°Thank you.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t thank me. It was the right thing to do. Anyway, I originally came here to talk about how I found you.¡± I rubbed my head and waved my hand at him to hold that thought. After utilizing the bathroom and getting both a glass of water and a mug of coffee, I sat down on the opposite end of the couch and said, ¡°Now go.¡± ¡°Oo, coffee.¡± I sighed, set down my beverages, then stood to make him a cup. ¡°What do you want in it?¡± ¡°Like half of it should be sugar.¡± I shot him a look. ¡°Why would you do that? What has coffee ever done to you?¡± He shrugged and peered at my cup. ¡°Fine. Do this to it.¡± ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Because I¡¯m taking this one.¡± ¡°But that¡¯s my favorite cup¡ª¡± He sipped from it. ¡°Fine.¡± I returned with a less adequate cup for myself and prompted him with a strong and very condescending brow shrug to continue his little technology story. He set down my favorite mug. ¡°As you know, I might¡¯ve coded some software that analyzes certain readings from certain preexisting tech that exists because of a big-ass portal in Canada, and blah blah, jargon jargon, I can kind of pick up on your portals.¡± ¡°Yes, I know.¡± ¡°Well, seeing as I¡¯m brilliant and innately curious about the organization I mistakenly worked for once upon a time, I¡ª¡± ¡°Which you will explain to me.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s just say I¡¯m a consultant now. A contract worker.¡± He shook his hands. ¡°Who cares about that stuff? What I¡¯m saying is that I decided I would keep watch too. Because whenever a portal opened, they got that special blip¡ª¡± ¡°I don¡¯t care.¡± ¡°Well care now, because they can see your people coming, and they can haul ass to wherever that blip tells them. Unless someone like me deletes the data and keeps it from reaching the Alliance¡¯s radar. Just saying.¡± ¡°You did the same thing to detect Jemier.¡± ¡°What about Eleric?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not talking about Eleric; I¡¯m talking about Jemier. You used that¡­radar blip thing and discovered he had arrived. And¡­subsequently left.¡± ¡°Yeah. Except his blips read differently than yours do. Well, not the one that dropped you here, but your¡­other¡­one. Ones. From a few years ago.¡± ¡°Because he is using technology. I use magick.¡± I scoffed. ¡°Used magick.¡± I leaned my head all the way back, massaging my temples. ¡°You¡¯ll tell me when someone arrives? If they arrive?¡± ¡°I already have.¡± ¡°But in the future?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll tell you, Solin. Don¡¯t worry.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not worrying.¡± I sank into the couch, attempting to mask my frustration, then winced when I remembered for the millionth time that this millennia-old habit needed to be curbed. ¡°Anyway,¡± Sam said, standing. ¡°It was nice sleeping on the couch I bought you. I have good taste. See you.¡± ¡°Wait,¡± I said. ¡°You came all this way to tell me that?¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t exactly want to advertise that I¡¯m¡­let¡¯s say¡­scouting certain channels.¡± ¡°But we aren¡¯t friends. Why did you stay with me?¡± ¡°Still got my own shit to work on, Solin. That¡¯s why.¡± He snatched his blazer. ¡°Later.¡± ¡°Wait.¡± He sighed and stopped. ¡°Again?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± He turned around. ¡°Fine.¡± ¡°Your technology. Has it detected any portals near a local abandoned hospital?¡± ¡°Recently?¡± ¡°Or further back.¡± His eyes darted to the side in thought. ¡°Not that I know of. Why? Someone else you¡¯re worried about?¡± ¡°No. Just wondering.¡± ¡°Yeah, no. I can run some checks if you want, but you¡¯re gonna have to tell me what¡¯s really going on.¡± ¡°No, that¡¯s all. Just curious.¡± He let out a puff of air. ¡°Okay then. I¡¯ll see you around, Solin.¡± Chapter 10 22629 YD (1304 CE) Heartwing, Cydrithenna
I gazed up at Corian Scaleborn from the soft, green grass. The sun formed a halo around her long, black-brown locs and glistened in the sweat beads on her skin. She smiled at me. I smiled back. Her necklace, bearing the symbol of her house, dangled off her neck. She reached out her hand. I reached back for her with one hand and for my sword with the other. She¡¯d disarmed me during our sparring match. I gripped her palm, then grabbed the sword, only to find its blade pinned to the ground by a boot. Varin. His jaw and brows took after my father more and more every day. My father was mostly gray now with many hard lines in his face, but the resemblance remained. ¡°You let her win?¡± He pressed his foot down harder when I tugged. ¡°He did not!¡± she protested, but he scowled at her. Even at our age, she knew that one day, he would have the power to make her the first female general of the Drakon military. ¡°Yes, you did,¡± Varin said to me. In his eyes, all other sexes and genders could not speak for themselves. Even our father didn¡¯t believe that, at least not privately. ¡°You¡¯re supposed to beat them.¡± ¡°She bested me,¡± I said. I¡¯d failed to calculate her next move, and when I responded, she got me. ¡°And she would best you too.¡± I gave the hilt another tug, and he gave his foot another few pounds, shoving my sword down hard enough to crush my fingers between the ground and hilt. I let out a puff of air, but I didn¡¯t give him much else. ¡°Varin,¡± said Eleric Foundry. He¡¯d started to grow his hair longer but kept it tied back neatly and showed no hair on his face. ¡°It¡¯s as your brother says.¡± ¡°Feh,¡± spat Varin in Eleric¡¯s direction. ¡°You don¡¯t know him like I do, but maybe that¡¯s why you keep defending him, hmm?¡± A malevolent grin tugged one side of Varin¡¯s face, and Eleric¡¯s own charm faded while his skin paled. ¡°Want me to beat him down for you so that you can take a shot? Maybe you want a little more?¡± Eleric grimaced. ¡°No, no, of course I wouldn¡¯t want that¡ª¡± ¡°Then shut up and tell me the truth. He let her win, didn¡¯t he?¡± Eleric looked at me, and I looked back at him through the grass. ¡°Come on, Eleric,¡± I said, ¡°just tell the boy what he wants to hear so he can finish tormenting me.¡± Eleric shook his head and stared at the ground before a passing group of noble girls caught his attention. ¡°I need to talk to them. Excuse me.¡± ¡°What a disgrace,¡± Varin said to me. ¡°I¡¯ll have to beat that habit out of him if he wants to be one of my senators.¡± He stepped off and flicked the sword at me with his toe. ¡°Get up.¡± He drew his sword. I took my sword and stood. ¡°Typically, one challenges the victor of the prior match. Or are you too frightened to face her?¡± ¡°This isn¡¯t a challenge, brother,¡± said Varin. ¡°This is a lesson!¡± He charged at me, his sword a poised battering ram at my chest. I swept his sword aside then thrust my palms at him, pushing a gale against his body. He dropped his sword and flew back several feet before tumbling in the grass of the training yard. Telekinesis. Terribly underdeveloped, but I¡¯d only ventured into this realm of magick recently, and only because I liked the idea of pushing Varin away with a strength he couldn¡¯t see or overpower. I approached him and offered my hand. He spat on my boots. ¡°You cheated with magick again,¡± he said. ¡°You tried to kill me.¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have killed you.¡± ¡°Aiming a sword at the center of someone¡¯s body is a move meant to kill.¡± He swung out at my ankles and pulled me down, then wrestled me until I lay beneath him. He whaled on my face. My blood painted my brother¡¯s knuckles red. ¡°Varin, please stop!¡± Corian said. ¡°Use¡­your¡­sword,¡± I pleaded. She hesitated, and Varin got in another hit. A shadow cast over Varin. Jemier. He¡¯d recently shaved his budding beard but could not hide the other ways his body had transformed. I blinked through the blood and tears in my eyes as Jemier pulled Varin aside and threw him back to the ground. Jemier kept his foot on Varin¡¯s chest while two sets of arms belonging to unseen people helped me up. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. ¡°He cheated, Jemier!¡± Varin cried. ¡°You were beating him to death! Your father will ask what happened to him. Do you want to disappoint him?¡± ¡°I have to teach him a lesson!¡± ¡°Then ask your father to teach it!¡± Varin launched Jemier off him, then scrambled away in a huff. ¡°I¡¯ll have to beat that insubordination out of you too!¡± he shouted. ¡°Try it,¡± Jemier said beneath his breath. Varin had marched too far to have heard it. Jemier took me from the strangers, who turned out to be Renny and Eleric, then removed his shirt and offered it to me as a towel. ¡°Look out, ladies!¡± Eleric teased. When I removed enough liquid and grass from my eyes, I saw what Jemier¡¯s friends poked fun of him for. The outline of our standard training armor had been burned pink into his peach skin. Giggling, Eleric and Renny patted me on the back. ¡°Are you okay now?¡± asked Eleric. ¡°He got you pretty good this time,¡± said Renny. ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± I said. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about Varin,¡± said Renny. ¡°That¡¯s what brothers do.¡± I did not think that love should be shown in the form of beatings and wondered why such a ridiculous idea lived on in so many forms. Corian glared at me as I received their consolations. She stomped toward me, interrupting their laughter, and put her face inches away from mine. ¡°I obviously don¡¯t need your help, so don¡¯t ever do that again.¡± She stormed away from us despite the calls from Jemier and Renny, the latter of whom broke away to chase after her, followed thereafter by Eleric. ¡°Aren¡¯t you going to follow them?¡± I said of Jemier, who had found more blood on me and had taken his shirt back to help me remove it. ¡°I am taking you home to clean you up.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t want to go back there.¡± ¡°Not your home. My home.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t want to go there either. If my father finds out that the prince could not go to his own home to clean up¡­what would that say about the House of Felwing?¡± ¡°That it cannot take care of its own. Does it matter? It¡¯s not as though I let them take you to the Houses of Foundry or Vivifyal.¡± I chuckled to myself. Eleric was of a lesser nobility, his ancestors Gaian blacksmiths who¡¯d served our earliest ancestors. Thus, they kept their namesake, instead of creating one anew, to honor that history. Renny was of the noblest family; Vivifyal was one of the Last Dragons, specifically the final dragon to die and make their kind extinct. Vivifyal gifted their essence to the Gaian line Renny descended from. House Wraithstone sat somewhere in the middle; noble but not so noble as to be ambitious, though there were two Wraithstone kings in our history. Karrdil would not see their treatment of me as a slight against our house, nor as some favor driven by ulterior motives. ¡°They do not take their future seriously,¡± I said as Jemier walked me to the barracks, a neutral place we had both silently decided would be where I cleaned up. ¡°For that matter, neither do you.¡± ¡°There is no need to. It will be ages before any of us are senators.¡± ¡°Foundrys are not senators,¡± I said. ¡°I doubt Varin will change that.¡± ¡°But they serve in other ways, and maybe Eleric will be one someday. He has the face for it.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not about a face, Jemier. It¡¯s about studying and skill. Practicing your diction.¡± ¡°¡®Practicing your diction.¡¯¡± He chuckled. ¡°The only thing we need to practice is our swing.¡± He mimicked a sword swing, which made it more difficult for me to walk. ¡°Anyway, Eleric could still be a senator. Corian wants to be a general, so her seat will be available. If not, then Eleric could be a general or something.¡± ¡°Someone from one of the other houses may petition Varin. Not one of us has a guaranteed seat.¡± The Daerlyvian Federation gave every faction five Senate seats, but left filling those seats up to the discretion of the faction. Jemier believed what most of the Drakons believed: the houses bearing senators would always bear senators, and no one would contest that. ¡°If you paid any attention to your other studies, Jemier, you¡¯d know that. Foundrys aren¡¯t senators because they believe in tradition, but the other houses have given the Federation senators before.¡± ¡°Varin won¡¯t bother with that. We¡¯ll all serve beside him, and the one who doesn¡¯t will command our armies.¡± I let out a groan of disgust. Drakon law dictated that the king was automatically a senator, and that he and he alone appointed the other four, who, according to these same laws, had to be of noble birth. The subtext of this law, unwritten but sunken into our societal consciousness, was that nobility contained the purest Drakons, those genetically capable of shifting into dragon form. Embodiments of drakanthropy. Foundrys were the exception. ¡°What?¡± said Jemier. ¡°I thought you wanted it that way.¡± ¡°I agree that Eleric should be a senator, and Corian a general. They will both provide a much-needed perspective to public discourse. I¡¯m only saying that Varin probably won¡¯t feel the same.¡± ¡°But you just said the thing about the other thing!¡± ¡°So did you!¡± ¡°I was just thinking about it.¡± ¡°I was also speculating, Jemier. But I was also reminding you that things are not so fantastical thanks to law, history, and my tragically horrendous brother.¡± ¡°You are so odd sometimes, Solin.¡± We reached the barracks. I let Jemier tend to my wounds as he would not allow me to take care of them myself. ¡°Do you think Corian can do it?¡± he asked as he rubbed healing poultice on my last wound. The pungent menthol of the grainy balm made my nose crinkle and my stomach clench. I had no immunity to the smell of this stuff, even after hundreds of years of beatings, yet Jemier never complained. ¡°I think she will be more than capable, but the only way she will convince Varin is if she can convince my father.¡± ¡°If only you had been born first. Then you could be king.¡± ¡°Wishes do nothing.¡± I sighed. ¡°Though sometimes I wish I could be as carefree as the rest of you.¡± ¡°You are. Your illusions have brought us many laughs.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t remind me.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t mean that.¡± He wiped the poultice aside and showed me a mirror wherein I saw no trace of what Varin had done to me, though the memory of the pain remained. ¡°I just mean that you know how to have fun with the rest of us. You simply know how to turn your eyes forward, drathos.¡± He embraced me, and I him, but I didn¡¯t agree with him. I knew how to turn my eyes forward because that was all I could do. That was what survival forced me to do. Chapter 11 2017 Polaris, New York
Redemption is a path that runs alongside but never touches the person you were before you sinned. I can never be the Drakon youth I was, and for that matter, I would not want to be him. I grew up with privileges, but I did not grow up happy. Perhaps I¡¯d never been happy, and I doubted I¡¯d find happiness here on Gaia. After Sam left, I barely bothered with formality. Unbathed, my hair in the waves I did not prefer, I pulled only what I needed to wear out of the dryer and dragged myself to Our Lady of Sorrows. I felt pathetic and wondered if Drakon spies watched me and reported my pitifulness to the king. Victoria didn¡¯t like when I put in too many hours in the kitchen and began scolding me for staying too late. I reminded her that I was a volunteer, and she did not have to worry about overtime pay. The work brought me peace and made me feel closer to being whole than I had felt in a long time, but when my shift ended, the peace faded, so I worked longer. Today, Victoria would make sure I¡¯d be out before the dinner service, so I tried to do as much as I could before that happened. I diced ingredients for meals I wouldn¡¯t cook, cleaned my station twice, and topped the shift off by auditing the shelf life of goods. A gallon of milk had become rather thick. We could not afford waste here, but I still would not compromise our ethics just to save pennies. I dumped it down the drain. I thought of an old friend, Dorais, and how he drank an Elvish drink of the same consistency. Then I thought of what he¡ªwe¡ªdid. And what had happened to him. What his blood had tasted like. I could not allow myself to relive the memory of my friend¡¯s death while so many relied upon my work in the kitchen. The seeds of that tragedy had been planted with my brother¡¯s murder, but sometimes when I replayed the years between Varin¡¯s and Dorais¡¯ deaths, I didn¡¯t always find shame. I found moments of intense emotion and glorious destruction that exhilarated me. Things I had done prior to arriving on Gaia that I would do again if given the chance. My rehabilitation could not begin until I viewed these deeds as wrong. Perhaps I¡¯d never had it in me to be truly good. Denying that I took pleasure in some of my sins felt like a lie, and I could not lie to myself. It did not align with my quest. Hands shaking from adrenaline, I turned the water on and rinsed the milk away. I had to tend to the delivery. I received the shipment in the rain. Victoria and I put it away, the byproduct of our labor being mountains of empty boxes. I broke down the cardboard obstacles within minutes and took them outside to recycle despite the rain, while Victoria and the others prepared the cafeteria for early arrivals. We could not leave people out in the rain, but we weren¡¯t exactly ready to serve either, so once the doors opened, people would be led to the connected church to wait. Kyle, my fellow food prepper in the kitchen, continued his work at the butcher block. ¡°Can the rolls go in yet?¡± Kyle asked when I returned. ¡°Let¡¯s wait until we are closer to opening.¡± Kyle and I only ever spoke about work with the exception of group conversations. I knew he was an academic at heart because of conversations he had with Brida, but we had nothing in common, despite his studious nature. Truthfully, I had nothing in common with any of them, but Brida made an effort because she desired my companionship¡ªand I hers¡ªand Victoria made it her business to know everyone who worked with her. Just as I began chopping the next batch of vegetables, a knock resounded from the back door. I ignored it; I knew better than to just open the door to the alleyway. Kyle had other ideas. The target of my blade changed; I gripped my chef¡¯s knife like it were a dagger. ¡°Don¡¯t open it.¡± Kyle paused, his hand on the handle of the door. ¡°Why not? ¡°You don¡¯t know who¡¯s out there.¡± ¡°It could be a delivery.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not. They¡¯re done for the day.¡± ¡°It¡¯s raining. Maybe someone needs to come in.¡± Before I could protest further, Kyle cracked open the door and peered through the dangerous slit to the outdoors. I expected a hand to snatch his neck and pull, breaking his nose against the hefty door. I stepped closer, glancing at the doors to the cafeteria. The others would not pay for Kyle¡¯s mistake; I would stand between them and danger. ¡°Kyle,¡± I said calmly, quietly, ¡°who¡¯s at the door?¡± Kyle waved me off and relaxed against the doorjamb. ¡°Who are you looking for again?¡± I tried to peer in the sliver of space between hinges but only saw a mass with no other identifiers. My limited human hearing couldn¡¯t understand anything clearly with the sound of the rain and the whirr of the convection oven¡¯s fan. The two spoke in murmurs. I stepped closer. Anyone speaking so quietly in the rain had either lost their voice or wanted their prey to lean in further to hear them. Nothing in the air provided any clues; I smelled only the scent of rain and onions. I silently cursed my dulled senses and fully approached the door, pretending to wipe off my knife with a cloth. The cloth had another purpose: I would stuff it in the attacker¡¯s mouth and hold the knife to their neck. Damn it. If I had only investigated Saint Mary¡¯s instead of brushing it off as folklore, then I¡¯d have my magick back and be better prepared to face whatever danger stood behind the door. ¡°I don¡¯t know who that is, sorry,¡± Kyle said. His hand grabbed the edge of the door, and he stepped back. ¡°Sorry man.¡± He waved and swung the door shut, but the latch didn¡¯t click. The visitor must have kept it open. ¡°He has dark hair.¡± Jemier? Finally? ¡°Oh.¡± Kyle left the door ajar and looked my way. Confusion and fright painted his face, probably because of the way I held the knife. I adjusted my posture, then set down the knife and cloth before removing my apron. I did not know if Jemier were here to watch or speak to me. I put a brick between the door and the doorjamb and stepped outside to see my rain-drenched visitor. He did not look like himself. He still had his perfect skin, his long, light-brown hair with a few elegant yet slightly messy twists and braids and the short, even beard covering his jaw. But he wore a long black coat and other human attire. If he carried weapons, then they were hidden in the large messenger bag slung over his shoulder. I took him in, my eyes curious and my mouth agape. How had he found me? Why wait until now? And did he not realize that his disguise would be better with an umbrella? This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. I wanted to tell him I missed him, and that I had been working hard to undo what I had done. I wanted to ask how he was doing, ask how Cydrithenna¡¯s most powerful kingdom fared under the rule of a self-righteous bastard. I wanted to ask Jemier if he had met anyone, if he was considering marriage or children, and whether or not Karrdil forced such decisions to be made or if Jemier had met someone on his own. I wanted to ask him the most mundane of things, things I¡¯d never thought were important before now. Instead, I continued looking foolishly at him. ¡°Solin,¡± he said quietly, and I leaned in to hear him over the pounding rain. ¡°Jon,¡± I said. He nodded and cast his eyes down. ¡°Jon.¡± ¡°Who told you I was here?¡± I asked. ¡°The soldiers were forbidden from telling me much,¡± Jemier said, rain dripping from his chin, nose, and lashes. Not really an answer. ¡°You are getting wet.¡± I opened the door and let him inside. He glanced around but said nothing. ¡°Wait here.¡± I needed Victoria¡¯s permission to let him in. Gaia was my new prison, but Our Lady of Sorrows was not. Victoria eyed me with authority, a hint of a smirk on her face. ¡°Your friend can come in, but he can¡¯t stay long, and he can¡¯t help unless he signs a few forms.¡± ¡°I understand.¡± I bowed my head to her, and she gave me a quizzical look. Another alien gesture, at least in this city. I took Jemier¡¯s coat and hung it up, and he set his bag beneath it. ¡°Why are you here, Sol¡ªJon?¡± ¡°We feed those in need,¡± I said. ¡°We?¡± ¡°Yes. You met Kyle already.¡± ¡°I hear others,¡± he said. I held my finger to my lips. ¡°Must you always be so loud?¡± The only noises allowed back here were the clanks of pots, pans, and dishes. Anything else sounded too much like goofing off to Victoria. ¡°Sorry,¡± he said at a volume much more tolerable. I washed my hands. ¡°It¡¯s the least I can do.¡± I returned to my workstation where partially chopped carrots awaited. I picked up the knife, and Jemier did not flinch. ¡°Some of these humans have no home.¡± Kyle caught the word ¡°humans¡± and gave me a weird look. ¡°I¡¯m an alien,¡± I said with a smile, and he gave a quick laugh and returned to his work. ¡°It is admirable work, drathos.¡± ¡°I am not your friend,¡± I uttered. I moved on to the next carrot. ¡°Sorry. Habit.¡± He reached for one of the sliced carrots, and I swatted him away with the elbow of the arm not holding the knife. ¡°Your hands are filthy, and this is for them, not us.¡± ¡°I haven¡¯t eaten since yesterday,¡± he admitted. ¡°Why not?¡± ¡°I spent the night searching for you until a tall device rang at me and told me where to look.¡± ¡°A pay phone?¡± I asked. He shrugged. Sam, no doubt, had his various eyes watching for Jemier. ¡°Wash your hands immediately. Those things are disgusting.¡± ¡°The rain took¡ª¡± ¡°You are in a kitchen, and you¡¯ll wash your hands.¡± Jemier grinned, then took my command seriously and washed his hands. When he returned to my side, I said, ¡°When we get home, I will cook you something.¡± The words came out of my mouth before I gave them permission. I didn¡¯t mean to come off so nice. When the criminal is nice, everyone questions why. Jemier did not. But we had been nice to each other before. Long ago. ¡°You will cook for me?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± I said, my face warming. I feared my embarrassment showed to Jemier, so I caught my reflection in an appliance and saw it did not betray me. Good. Masking was not an option. Jemier eyed the carrots again. ¡°I would like that.¡± ¡°You snuck into the portal chamber, didn¡¯t you?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Why have you come?¡± I said much quieter than before, not needing to destroy my cover with Kyle present. ¡°I came because of what you said.¡± Jemier fixated on my work, watching the sliced carrots tumble into the mixing bowl. ¡°I¡¯ve said a lot of things. Many of which you never listened to.¡± ¡°What you said at the trial.¡± I started on the celery. ¡°Which part?¡± ¡°That you would seek redemption. I believed you. I begged your father to¡ª¡± I said nothing. He seemed to anticipate I would speak, and I had wanted to. ¡°I begged him to reconsider even after you were gone.¡± ¡°I embarrassed his¡ªyour¡ªkingdom.¡± I moved from slicing carrots to celery. ¡°You know that I don¡¯t believe you killed Varin. I found his killer.¡± I threw him a dark look. ¡°Watch what you¡¯re saying, please.¡± Onions next. My eyes teared up, but Kyle didn¡¯t notice. ¡°I do not deserve your kindness,¡± I said softly. ¡°You have always deserved my kindness, drathos.¡± ¡°I am not your drathos, Je¡ª¡± I stopped. He needed an alias too. ¡°James.¡± He accepted it immediately. ¡°What I did to you was¡ªyou shouldn¡¯t be here.¡± It was selfish of me to have wished for him to find me. The childish want of an entitled prince. The homesickness of a lonely boy. He put a hand on my shoulder. ¡°It¡¯s been forgiven. For a long time.¡± ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have done it.¡± His touch did not erase my guilt, but it comforted me, perhaps a little too much. ¡°I literally hurt you. With a weapon not unlike this one.¡± I set down my knife. ¡°You thought I was there to capture you.¡± I¡¯d thought worse, actually. ¡°Were you?¡± ¡°It¡¯s more complicated than that.¡± ¡°Like everything else between us.¡± I checked on Kyle again. Still no indication of eavesdropping. I tried to cloak my conversation with magick; nothing. Damn habit. ¡°I don¡¯t understand. Why did you forgive me without any act of contrition?¡± ¡°Because I did.¡± He withdrew his hand. ¡°And now you save Gaians¡ª ¡°Humans,¡± I said. ¡°Humans,¡± he corrected, ¡°even though I do not understand how. They have hungry in this city?¡± ¡°Of course you wouldn¡¯t know.¡± I picked up the knife again. ¡°You¡¯ve barely spent any time here.¡± My knife cut into the onion with a satisfying, watery crunch before smacking the cutting board with a loud thwack. ¡°They have hungry all over Gai¡ª¡± I paused; my voice had raised with my anger. ¡°All over Earth. They have so much food, and they waste it. They keep it, and they¡ª¡± I sighed. No use trying to explain anything further. Besides, I¡¯d already chopped the hell out of this onion. ¡°That is¡­strange.¡± ¡°No stranger than the Giants who starve at Drakon borders,¡± I said. I glanced at Kyle; no indication I¡¯d been heard. ¡°The ones Karrdil forgets.¡± Jemier said nothing and looked about the kitchen. Kyle washed potatoes in the sink. I went to retrieve the next vegetable, but Jemier stopped me with a gentle hand and took me into his arms. The embrace confused me, and I didn¡¯t know whether I should give in to emotions I had long held back or become a statue. For all the jealousy I had felt toward Jemier in the past, I did love him even if I didn¡¯t always like him. He was my only true link to home and the self I had known before my life became filled with lies of greatness. I embraced him in return, lightly, so as not to make it seem as though I missed him and Cydrithenna so much I had become desperate. We parted. He held my shoulders square. ¡°Will you still cook for me?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± I said. ¡°You should go to my apartment and wait for me.¡± ¡°Where is it?¡± ¡°You were not told?¡± ¡°The soldiers either don¡¯t know or would not¡ª¡± I raised my brows. I didn¡¯t mean the soldiers back home; I meant Sam, but I couldn¡¯t simply say his name in case Kyle was familiar with the famous, addictive application that gave Sam his wealth. Worse, if Kyle had actually understood Jemier when he said my real name earlier, he might¡¯ve remembered the first time he¡¯d heard the name ¡°Solin.¡± He must have been old enough to watch the news when I¡¯d last been here. No. The more I kept secret, the better. I could not ruin Sam¡¯s good name with my sins. Jemier understood my unstated clarification and shook his head. ¡°No, only that I could find you here.¡± ¡°So you did talk to him first.¡± Jemier nodded. Just like Sam to be so curt and direct. I found a pen and paper and gave Jemier directions as well as my key. ¡°Do. Not. Lose. This. The front is unlocked, but you¡¯d do well to come in from the back.¡± I whispered to him the passcode; I couldn¡¯t risk that being in writing. ¡°Don¡¯t get the paper wet. And don¡¯t touch anything.¡± ¡°What am I to do?¡± ¡°What did you do when you came here the day it rained just like this?¡± He looked a little embarrassed, and I urged him to tell me with another raise of my brows and an annoyed lean of my chin. ¡°I wandered around looking for you.¡± Perhaps Sam had only contacted him this time because I¡¯d drunkenly admitted I missed my friend. ¡°And?¡± ¡°I went to the local tavern¡ª¡± ¡°You¡­drank.¡± ¡°No! The tavern is where locals gather. I thought you¡¯d be amongst them.¡± ¡°This doesn¡¯t answer my question.¡± ¡°I am getting there, Solin.¡± I groaned. Did he not remember my name was forbidden? ¡°Get there faster. And quieter.¡± ¡°The tavern had this incredible technology with instant access to various Gaian plays and stories.¡± ¡°Netflix?¡± I asked, and he sheepishly nodded. ¡°I have Netflix.¡± I wrote down instructions on how to access it from my television or primitive tablet. ¡°There you are, James. You may watch all the Netflix shows and films you desire and be counterproductive from the comfort of my home.¡± I handed him the instructions and walked him to the door. ¡°Just don¡¯t delete anything from my queue.¡± Chapter 12 22658 YD (1336 CE) Heartwing, Cydrithenna
One of the rare moments I had to sneak off to the market occurred shortly before one of Jemier¡¯s birthdays. I found the perfect gift, one that spoke to Jemier¡¯s apparently sole intellectual pursuit as an amateur battle historian, a runic dagger. Inlaid with gems and beset with magickal runes of the Last Dragons, runic daggers had fallen out of favor during the second Drakon dynasty. Once ubiquitous, many were smelted, sold off-world, or simply buried beneath time. Jemier had always wanted one, citing an old general of House Wraithstone and how he¡¯d fended off Frost Giants single-handedly with nothing but a runic dagger. I¡¯d found one and paid mountains from my meager princely allowance for it. I¡¯d all but drained what I¡¯d acquired over my youth. Its formidable condition came from eons of care and the original, polished wood chest the maker had placed it in. I kept the dagger in its chest and tucked it beneath my bed. In the meantime, I drove up Jemier¡¯s anticipation through friendly taunts. ¡°I have the perfect gift for you,¡± I said as we walked amongst the tall pillars in the palace. ¡°You keep saying that, yet you won¡¯t show it to me.¡± He gave me his devilish smirk, one that said I would be in for a bout of wrestling or some other form of friendly torment. ¡°I want you to wait for it.¡± ¡°I think you have no gift.¡± ¡°I think you have no patience.¡± I darted through the halls of the palace, waiting for that perfect moment to mask and throw him off. I¡¯d finally perfected the skill of personal illusion, and he fell for the trick every time, just as he fell for my teasing. His birthday came, and House Wraithstone threw him one of their famous, wondrous bashes. Where there weren¡¯t people, there was food, alcohol, or entertainment. Scents were always a focus of a Wraithstone party, with incense and oils permeating the air. Open spaces became the stages for the drunken and shadows the nooks for the amorous. This year¡¯s theme created plenty of shadows, coaxing Jemier into manhood by giving the manor the violet-and-red ambience of a brothel. Varin, young as he was, inebriated himself before the bash reached the halfway mark, but I avoided him, making a point to stay as bruise-free as possible before presenting Jemier with my gift. I clustered with my friends, though Jemier and Eleric were currently missing, each for different reasons. ¡°You¡¯d better not be lying,¡± said Renny while we waited for the Wraithstone¡¯s hallmark gift-presentation ritual to begin. His voice cracked in all the wrong places, and his face bore all the marks of adolescence. ¡°I¡¯m not lying. It is going to be the best gift he¡¯s ever received, and I dare you to beat it.¡± ¡°No one¡¯s going to beat your gift,¡± said Corian, stepping between us. ¡°Jemier already told us you¡¯ve won this year.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not a competition,¡± said Renny. ¡°But he still declared Solin the winner, and you¡¯re still upset about it.¡± Renny gestured at me. ¡°We don¡¯t even know if it exists!¡± I smiled, thinking of the box beneath my bed. I didn¡¯t dare bring it here where some drunkard could take it. I would wait until the last minute. ¡°It exists.¡± Renny rolled his eyes, and Corian said nothing. ¡°I can prove it. Come with me.¡± Corian looked at Renny. Renny looked at Corian. ¡°I said I can prove it. Come on!¡± ¡°We¡¯re coming,¡± said Corian. Renny grumbled and followed. We ran until we were breathless, with Corian reminding us of how little time we had to return to House Wraithstone¡¯s manor. Our legs weak and faces flush, we arrived at my ample bedchamber, panting. ¡°Over here.¡± I dashed to my bedside, sliding to my knees in my excitement. I pulled up the lavish bed skirt and shoved my arm beneath the bed. I reached for the box, my fingers waggling, grazing it until I was shoulder-deep beneath the mattress. ¡°Got it!¡± I tapped the floor for Corian to pull me out. She did, and the box came with me swifter than expected. I rolled out from my position and, grinning wildly, flipped open the lid to the chest. The dagger was not there. Renny laughed so hard that I immediately lunged for him. ¡°Give it back!¡± I cried out, pounding on his chest while Corian wrestled me away. ¡°Give it back, Renny!¡± Renny had tears in his eyes and hacked from laughing so hard. ¡°You think I actually know what you had in there?¡± he wheezed between chortles. ¡°It was a dagger,¡± said Corian. ¡°You can see the shape it left behind.¡± ¡°It was,¡± I said, ¡°and you need to give it back.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t take it!¡± she said. I shot a glare at Renny. ¡°Don¡¯t look at me! This is hilarious.¡± I freed myself from Corian and stared at the empty chest on the floor, my fists clenched. ¡°Maybe it was your brother,¡± said Corian. ¡°No, there¡¯s no way,¡± I said. ¡°He couldn¡¯t have known it was here. He couldn¡¯t have known I even had something here to look for.¡± ¡°With all the bragging you did to Jemier, did you really think Varin wouldn¡¯t find out?¡± Renny wiped tears from his eyes. ¡°Varin finds out everything eventually. Solin, you can be so na?ve sometimes.¡± ¡°Stop it, Renny!¡± said Corian. She hit him in the arm. ¡°He¡¯s your prince, and you¡¯d better act like it!¡± ¡°I am acting like it!¡± he said, rubbing where her fist had landed. ¡°Someone needs to tell him when he does thoughtless things so that he doesn¡¯t do them again.¡± I growled. ¡°I don¡¯t need either of you! If you aren¡¯t going to help me find Jemier¡¯s gift, then just leave.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll look for a dagger on the gift table,¡± said Corian. ¡°Maybe someone wanted to give it to him first.¡± ¡°Yeah, I¡¯ll help you with that,¡± said Renny, still nursing his arm. I shook my head. ¡°No! Help me look here. Help me look in Varin¡¯s room.¡± ¡°No offense, Solin, but your brother will literally stab us if we break into his bedchamber,¡± Renny said. ¡°Not if we get the dagger back.¡± Corian shook her head and grabbed Renny by the arm. ¡°No, I¡¯m sorry, Solin. Renny¡¯s right. For the wrong reasons. We can¡¯t break into the crown prince¡¯s room. We¡¯re going back to the party to look for it. Maybe Eleric¡¯s still there, and he can help. He knows daggers¡ª¡± ¡°Just go,¡± I said, masking my tears. ¡°Leave now.¡± Renny crossed his arms. ¡°That¡¯s what you get for waiting this long to¡ª¡± ¡°Fine,¡± said Corian. She grumbled and dragged Renny away with her. I tore my bedchamber to pieces, knowing every passing moment brought me closer to the gift ceremony. I wished for the ability to lift furniture without accidentally smashing it against something, and wondered what spellwork would make this search go quicker, but it only stirred my anger and impatience whenever I wanted to use such a power. I cleaned myself up and returned to the party long after all the gifts had been given and well into the drunken hour of singing adults, who no longer cared that it was a party for a young person. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. I found Jemier clustered with Corian, Renny, and Eleric in a room filled with other youths of nobility and enough alcohol to put the adults in the other room to shame. Eleric flirted with two young women, one of whom tried her hardest to seat herself in his lap while the other pet his shoulder with manicured hands. Jemier didn¡¯t notice me until Renny loudly announced my arrival. ¡°Prince Solin,¡± said Jemier, his voice flat and eyes narrowed. ¡°I¡¯m very pleased you¡¯ve finally decided to come back to us this evening.¡± ¡°Have you been drinking?¡± I asked him quietly. Behind him, Corian shook her head. ¡°No,¡± he said. ¡°But maybe I should. I hear it helps you forget all kinds of betrayals.¡± ¡°Jemier, please let me talk to you.¡± His voice grew louder. ¡°If you want me to talk to you, then you¡¯ll have to order me, Prince Solin.¡± The eyes of the room turned our way. ¡°That¡¯s absurd; why would I do that?¡± ¡°Because you¡¯re a liar, and your cruelty knows no bounds!¡± ¡°Jemier,¡± said Eleric, ¡°maybe you could talk to him about this later? It¡¯s just a gift.¡± Jemier grunted and ignored the request, choosing to glare at me instead. Liar. Did he truly think I was lying? Hadn¡¯t Renny or Corian explained what had happened? ¡°I had something for you, Jemier. It went missing. I¡¯ll find it, I swear¡ª¡± ¡°I don¡¯t care what you had for me, Solin! You weren¡¯t even there! I should¡¯ve known you wouldn¡¯t be given how often you hide behind that magick of yours. How often you embarrass us with it. You¡¯re a disgraceful snake, Solin.¡± Any eyes that weren¡¯t on us before were on us now. ¡°Jemier, you¡¯re making a big deal out of¡ª¡± Louder than before, he said, ¡°I told everyone here that you would be presenting me with a gift so grand that no one could top it. I presented you in front of my father, in front of everyone, and instead heard silence! You weren¡¯t even in the room! Do you know what it¡¯s like to hear whispers crack through a moment so humiliating?¡± I grimaced. ¡°You announced me?¡± ¡°To the whole room,¡± said Renny. ¡°It was pretty bad.¡± Corian hit him. ¡°You¡¯re not helping.¡± Jemier shook his head at me. ¡°You¡¯re a laughingstock, Solin. Don¡¯t make me one too.¡± He stormed away from us, and with it came whispers that returned to the normal din of a Wraithstone party. The flirtatious youths vying for Eleric¡¯s attention slipped away as well, and Eleric chased after them. Corian sighed at Renny. ¡°Go make sure he doesn¡¯t drink himself to death?¡± Renny groaned. ¡°Yes ma¡¯am.¡± He slapped me on the shoulder on his way. ¡°Tough break, Solin.¡± Corian looked at me. ¡°I couldn¡¯t find it here.¡± ¡°Yet you didn¡¯t exactly explain what actually happened to him?¡± She huffed. ¡°It¡¯s not my job to take care of his feelings. Or yours!¡± She pushed past me, hitting my shoulder with her own on her way out. I masked and headed for home where I waited for my parents to return outside of their bedchamber, but they came home far too late for me to confront them. I was woken by Auleia, one of my attendants, who whispered to me the hour and guided my sleepy form back to bed. Of course, the next morning, my parents were indisposed, cursed by the Wraithstone sickness that seemed to follow all attendees of raucous Wraithstone parties. Something entirely different afflicted me: betrayal. Varin had stolen Jemier¡¯s dagger, and now my friendship with Jemier was as fragile as my brother¡¯s ego. To go from being Jemier¡¯s beloved friend, his drathos, to a ¡°laughingstock¡± and a ¡°liar¡± whose ¡°cruelty knows no bounds¡± devastated me. I refused to allow Auleia and the others to pick up after my mess. I tidied up, using the time to reflect on the previous night and to concoct a plan that would urge the answer out of Varin. My mind wandered to my books, volumes upon volumes of knowledge on the magickal arts, but I could not concentrate enough to learn anything. All I could think of was Jemier, and my mind brought my feet to House Wraithstone¡¯s manor. The manor stood as quiet as ever, and where light was wanted, open windows aired out the stench of alcohol and all it could do. Like many of nobility, Jemier was afflicted with the illness but remained mobile in his darkened bedchamber. The curtains remained shut tight, and few low-light candles were lit. ¡°What is it?¡± Jemier said. He gulped water, grimacing as each healthy portion went down. ¡°It was not my intent to embarrass you,¡± I said. ¡°Intent doesn¡¯t matter now, does it?¡± He groaned and rubbed his temples. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t drink so heavily. Not at our age or any age.¡± ¡°Shut up.¡± I drew nearer and caught the purpling of bruises on his eye. ¡°What happened?¡± ¡°Between us?¡± ¡°To your eye?¡± He hid the mark poorly behind a lock of bedraggled hair. I caught more bruises on his knuckles. ¡°I needed to hit something.¡± ¡°It looks like it hit back.¡± ¡°It¡¯s nothing, Solin. Leave it. Why would you care, anyway?¡± ¡°Because you are my drathos, Jemier. Please, one mistake with a mere gift can¡¯t be why you¡¯re this upset¡ª¡± ¡°You should leave,¡± he said. ¡°Before my father sees you.¡± ¡°Why would he care?¡± He swallowed. ¡°I¡¯m not to see¡­friends right now. Not after I destroyed the¡­¡± He gestured to somewhere outside the room. ¡°And then it fell and¡­¡± He gestured to his eye. ¡°Just go.¡± ¡°Did you get into a fight?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Was it my brother?¡± ¡°No. Leave it, Solin, and leave here too.¡± I stared at him, breathing heavily through my nostrils. Pungent menthol hung in the air. ¡°I could order you to tell me.¡± ¡°But you won¡¯t.¡± After a moment, I nodded. ¡°But I won¡¯t.¡± He glared at the water as though daring it to come up again if he took another much-needed gulp. ¡°I¡¯ll leave now,¡± I said. ¡°Good.¡± I masked, hiding the sunken feeling of my chest. I ran back to the palace, passing Varin, who seemed to have recovered from his hangover and now beat a training dummy in the yard. I clenched my fists, feeling hot tears roll off my jaw, and ignored the urge to set him on fire. Better for him that I had no such power. I barreled into the palace, hoping to cause the loudest clamor that had ever been caused in Drakon history, and dropped my mask, only to be called for a late-afternoon breakfast. My parents looked much more themselves than they had earlier that day, and as they ate, albeit in dainty, somewhat forced bites, I darted my eyes between them. Who was best to broach the dagger subject with? ¡°How are your studies coming, young Solin?¡± said my father. ¡°They are coming along well.¡± While my table manners appeared as polite as ever for his benefit, behind a mask I stabbed at my food. My mother, Risayne, glared at me. I mustn¡¯t forget the magickal inclinations of House Omayu. I reduced the occurrences of food stabbing and joined the conversation more fully. ¡°Of course they¡¯re coming along well,¡± said Varin, who stabbed his food on a good day despite all table manners expected of future kings. ¡°He doesn¡¯t have any friends, so all he can do is read those stupid books.¡± ¡°I have friends, you¡ª¡± ¡°Solin, don¡¯t give in to your brother¡¯s baiting.¡± Yes, because I was in the wrong. Clearly. ¡°He stole my gift for Jemier.¡± Varin snarled at me. ¡°What?! How dare you, you dainty little abomination!¡± My chest leapt. ¡°Varin!¡± snapped my mother. ¡°What? It¡¯s true. He¡¯ll be crawling into men¡¯s laps in no time. In fact, I¡¯m not sure he isn¡¯t already doing it. He¡¯s the perfect age for it¡ª¡± Smack! Varin held a hand to his face while my mother held her hand up in warning, daring him to speak that way again. My father had paused midcut to watch the two of them in their showdown. Risayne of House Omayu held the power in the room, and all of us knew it. ¡°You will apologize to your brother, and you will mean it. And if you can¡¯t bring yourself to understand why you¡¯ll mean it, then I will send your service staff and attendants away for a while and watch as you struggle to clean the shit off your own toilet.¡± I snickered and received the motherly glare of doom for it. ¡°You¡¯re not out of the woods either, Solin. You accused your brother of something he did not do.¡± ¡°How could you possibly know?¡± I said. ¡°He always does these things to me, and now Jemier hates me.¡± ¡°She knows because I took it,¡± said Karrdil. ¡°Father?¡± I gaped at him. ¡°Why would you take that from me? I¡¯ve done nothing wrong!¡± ¡°You did plenty wrong,¡± he said. ¡°You gave another child a weapon¡ª¡± ¡°We¡¯re not children anymore, and we¡¯re already training to fight¡ª¡± ¡°And you squandered years¡¯ worth of savings on something petty and frivolous. How will the Senate or the people you represent feel about you spending their money that way?¡± ¡°It wasn¡¯t their money, Father; it was mine!¡± ¡°Given to you by the grace of the king!¡± His voice boomed off the walls of the dining hall. ¡°Not all children under our watch are fortunate enough to receive allowances for studies well done.¡± I shook my head. ¡°It wasn¡¯t for play, Father. It had a historical significance to him, an emotional significance¡ª!¡± ¡°I told you. An abomination,¡± muttered Varin. Karrdil stood, and Varin quieted. Although Risayne was the master of magick in our family, Karrdil had a formidable strength and some magickal powers of his own. I did not doubt he would unleash them upon Varin. I wanted him to. ¡°Both of you will retire to your rooms until you are instructed otherwise.¡± ¡°I will take Solin,¡± said Risayne, standing. ¡°Come, my son.¡± Masking was of no use with her, but it spared me from Varin¡¯s future jeers about the natural response to upsetting events. When we were safely in my room, Mother¡¯s face softened, and she sat on my bed, patting it for me to take a seat beside her. Once there, she took my hand. ¡°Do not listen to Varin.¡± All I¡¯d held within during our disgraceful mealtime came out. Everything from my argument with Jemier joined the deluge. She held me, smoothing my hair beneath her calming hand. ¡°He¡¯s right,¡± I murmured between sobs. ¡°He¡¯s right, Mother.¡± ¡°You are not an abomination.¡± I shook my head. ¡°No, you¡¯re wrong. I am. I can feel it. I am broken.¡± ¡°Am I broken?¡± she asked. ¡°Is Quezhan¨¦?¡± Quezhan¨¦, a second mother to me, Risayne¡¯s spouse-in-secret. Quezhan¨¦, who had taught me more magick than I could have ever dreamed of. Quezhan¨¦, the reason my mother could detect my illusory magicks. ¡°No, you¡¯re not broken.¡± ¡°You may find that you¡¯re more like me than you realize. Able to love without boundary. And that¡¯s okay, Solin. The Daerlyvian Federation says it is so.¡± ¡°But Drakons do not.¡± ¡°Drakons will learn under your guidance. But for now, try not to hold anger toward your father. He means well.¡± ¡°Intent doesn¡¯t matter,¡± I repeated. ¡°Perhaps not, but in the future, you may be more forgiving. As will Jemier. He will come around to you. He will understand what happened. You will not lose your friend.¡± I relaxed and stared at the wall of my bedchamber. ¡°He hurt himself last night.¡± ¡°Did he now?¡± ¡°So he says.¡± She sighed, and my head lifted at the sound of her breath. ¡°This place is a mess, my love.¡± ¡°I tried cleaning it.¡± ¡°You can do better. Start with¡­there. Those books.¡± She kissed my head. ¡°I must see to your brother. He needs to unlearn certain words.¡± As she stood, I clutched her sleeve. ¡°Please don¡¯t tell him.¡± ¡°He doesn¡¯t know, and he won¡¯t know. He will never know who we really are, Solin. I promise.¡± I nodded and glanced at the books she referenced. Volumes on unusual magicks, ones that could grant the student use over the unseen. We shared a flicker of a smile, and she left. Chapter 13 2017 Polaris, New York
I shut the door to my apartment and wiggled my sore feet out of my shoes, which I loathed wearing because they offered no protection for my ankles. I had no choice but to wear them because the floors in the kitchen could get slippery, and boots were too warm for this season. Jemier slept on the sofa, his body taking up every cushion. He¡¯d fallen asleep watching a show about two handsome ghost-hunting brothers who traveled in an equally handsome car. Thankfully, he did not wake when I¡¯d shut the door, nor when I had accidentally flung my shoe at the wall. Another miscalculation of my cursed human strength; I had trouble with motions that previously required far less strength, and I often overcompensated. I hadn¡¯t realized until now how noisy I¡¯d been; what could my neighbors hear? What attention did I draw to myself with my pathetic attempts to adjust to this cursed body? Work had exhausted me, and the rain on my walk home had chilled me to my bones. I had no physical or mental energy to cook another meal, but I had waited for Jemier¡¯s visit for so long and had a promise to keep. I shuffled off toward the dryer, looking for a dry set of clothes, and eyed the closet where the spare blanket and pillow were. Should I offer them to him? I decided against it. I missed him, and he could not know it. He could not know how weak, sad, and angry I had become. Then he would worry I could return to old habits. Sometimes I wanted to. I wanted to do something about everything because no one had done anything about anything when it had come to me. Yet I wanted him there because he already knew too much. I wanted him there because he knew me and accepted me, and I wanted him there because I did not have to lie to him as I lied to Brida and those I had come to know. I let my hair loose from its tie and toweled it dry, then changed. Cooking would cause a ruckus, so I lifted every dish with care and did my best to keep him asleep. I didn¡¯t need him to see how desperate I¡¯d become for his friendship anyway. He did not wake. He was a warrior before he was a politician, trained to keep watch and wake at the slightest of sounds. He must have been truly exhausted to stay asleep for as long as he did. Perhaps he pretended for my benefit. I roasted poultry with herbs, a recipe I¡¯d found on my tablet. Since he had seemed so eager to eat my carrots earlier, I threw in some of those too. The leafy greens I had originally bought had since wilted¡ªmelted into a black, mushy mess, really¡ªand I threw them away, substituting frozen peas from a bag. I tapped Jemier on the shoulder. He shifted violently, attempting to grab my hand. I snapped my hand away in time and smiled; I still had the muscle memory to dodge a trained Drakon soldier. ¡°Solin.¡± ¡°Jemier. I told you I would cook for you.¡± He rubbed his eyes and inhaled deeply. ¡°That scent is from you?¡± I hadn¡¯t showered today, but I did not go from clean to ripe so quickly. ¡°You¡¯d best be speaking of the food.¡± He gave me a sleepy, childlike smirk, and nodded lightly. ¡°Let us feast.¡± I did my best not to serve him, though I did hand him his plate. He took sparingly from the offerings, and I encouraged him to take more. ¡°You should eat more, Solin.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t need as much. This is enough.¡± ¡°It doesn¡¯t look like enough.¡± ¡°That¡¯s because human metabolism is different, Jemier.¡± ¡°You refuse to refer to me as ¡®drathos.¡¯ You used to call me that.¡± ¡°Because you are not my cherished friend.¡± We set our plates on the dining table, which I had only used for eating once. I tended to eat at the sofa or at the counter. I poured us wine, leaving the bottle on the table, then ate the first bite to show I hadn¡¯t poisoned him. I don¡¯t know if he¡¯d even considered that, but he did start eating once I had swallowed. ¡°You cooked this?¡± he said, mouth full of food. I took a sip of wine before answering. ¡°No. I used my powers of coercion and brought in an executive chef.¡± For a short moment, he believed me. I scoffed and gave him an incredulous look. ¡°I have no powers of coercion, Jemier. Other than my clearly unpolished silver tongue. And why would I bother bringing in a chef? To impress you?¡± He gave me a half shrug. ¡°I thought cooking for me was supposed to do that.¡± I avoided his knowing, playful gaze and hid behind my wineglass. ¡°Why are you really here, Jemier? It can¡¯t be to check up on me. There are much better candidates for such a task.¡± ¡°I missed you, Solin. That is the truth. And there is little mayhem to distract me from missing you.¡± Missing me wasn¡¯t a distraction. Everything else was the distraction. ¡°How could you miss me?¡± ¡°Because of all I had done to you, and you still focused attention on me.¡± ¡°Focused attention on you? When have I done that?¡± Aside from the myriad of days I¡¯d spent waiting for him. ¡°You don¡¯t treat me as everyone else does.¡± ¡°I treat you worse.¡± ¡°Sometimes.¡± ¡°That is not a quality to miss. You understand that¡¯s how unhealthy relationships work.¡± ¡°But we have a relationship.¡± ¡°We probably shouldn¡¯t.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t think so?¡± I sighed and sipped the wine, focusing on the window instead of my guest. I expected him to burst through the silence in his normal fashion, but he never did. ¡°What?¡± ¡°There¡¯s another reason I¡¯m here,¡± he said, paying more attention to the edge of the table than his food. ¡°Other than you missing me. Even though we¡¯ve barely spoken since¡­¡± I twirled my fork in the air. ¡°I can¡¯t remember when, actually. Was it the balcony, or my capture? Years, or weeks?¡± ¡°If you count actual conversations, it was long before you came here.¡± ¡°Years then.¡± I shrugged. ¡°I suppose I could understand the guilt you¡¯d have over leaving me alone for so long. Although my prison sentence was longer, and you certainly didn¡¯t make an effort then.¡± ¡°Solin, that was centuries ago. Why can¡¯t we move past that?¡± ¡°Because no one came to see me, perhaps? Not my family, not my friends, and not even the person I¡ª¡± Too late. His expression said he¡¯d filled in the rest of that sentence for me. ¡°Who, Solin?¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t mean you if that¡¯s what you¡¯re asking.¡± ¡°What if I am?¡± ¡°Are you?¡± He shrank in his chair. I tried to meet his eyes without leaning so far over to the right that I¡¯d also meet the floor. ¡°Jemier, I¡¯m not lying. I was seeing someone at the time. I didn¡¯t mean to scare you.¡± His eyes shot up at me. ¡°I¡¯m not scared, Solin. That¡¯s why¡­why I¡¯m here.¡± I lifted my head and relaxed my grip on the fork. It fell to the plate with a sharp clank, startling both of us. ¡°You¡¯re¡­¡± I narrowed my eyes at him. ¡°You¡¯re¡­like me? And you like me?¡± ¡°I think so.¡± Adrenaline pumped through me. ¡°You think so? You only think that you¡¯re like me.¡± ¡°An abomination.¡± I shook my head. ¡°No, Jemier. Stop it. Don¡¯t ever say that.¡± ¡°Why? I¡¯ve said it about others before, so I might as well say it about myself.¡± ¡°Absolutely not. That¡¯s Varin¡¯s word, not ours. Never ours. You are not an abomination.¡± I wanted to stand. To hold him. To scold him for not telling me sooner. To yell at him for invading my exile and making it about him. About¡­us. I took a deep breath instead. ¡°Jemier, the second part of what I said. Is that true too?¡± His face pinked in shame. I¡¯d never seen him look so guilty before. ¡°I think I have feelings for you, Solin. I couldn¡¯t leave things the way they were.¡± ¡°Actually, you could¡¯ve.¡± I sipped my wine. ¡°I¡¯m in captivity right now, and you think that¡¯s an appropriate time to confess your feelings to me?¡± If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡°You¡¯re in exile, Solin, not captivity.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not talking about this damn planet, Jemier!¡± I put a hand on my chest. ¡°I¡¯m talking about this body! This curse! Do you know what it¡¯s like to get stripped of the very things that make you you? Do you?¡± ¡°You don¡¯t need your magick to hear how I feel about you!¡± ¡°Yes, I do.¡± I stood and gripped the back of my chair. ¡°Because I am not me without the powers that have kept me alive. Do you get that? I wouldn¡¯t have survived anything without magick. It has saved me from so much more than you¡¯ll ever know. And then you come at me with this? When I¡¯m most vulnerable, unable to say no, unable to escape?¡± His face twisted in disbelief. ¡°You want to escape? From me?¡± I breathed with a fury whose source I could not pinpoint. ¡°No, but I¡¯d like to know that I have the option.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve always had that option.¡± ¡°Not in exile.¡± ¡°You ran away from Cydrithenna, not the other way around.¡± ¡°I was banished before I was exiled, Jemier. Do not mistake that as me running away.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡± I thudded the chair against the floor. ¡°Damn it, Jemier. Must I always be so literal? I did another bad thing, and my adoring, loving parents wanted to send me away for good this time. So I fled off-world, then I came here, and then Gaians died. And now I am stuck here in this cursed body trying desperately to claw at redemption.¡± If I¡¯d had my strength, I could have crushed the chair beneath my fingers. I wanted to shatter it into splinters. ¡°And then you come here and tell me that you¡¯re like me. That you have feelings¡ªsorry, think you have feelings for me. You don¡¯t even know for sure.¡± ¡°This is new to me, drathos.¡± ¡°It¡¯s Solin, and I don¡¯t really know what to say to that, because I told you centuries ago who I was. You never had to hide anything from me.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not hiding anything from you now.¡± ¡°Oh, shut up.¡± ¡°Drathos, this is not what I intended.¡± He stood. I put my weight on my back heel. He stayed behind his chair. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t know that about your parents, and I didn¡¯t think about the timing. I¡¯m sorry, drathos.¡± ¡°Solin.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Solin, and I won¡¯t interfere with your redemption. I¡¯m here because the king doesn¡¯t think this is possible for you, but I trust you more than him. I know you can do this.¡± My hands shook. ¡°I need a moment.¡± I stood from the table. In seconds, I chose the bathroom instead of the outer hallway, though the hallway would have been a better mode of escape if needed. It had other doors to flee through, while the bathroom had a sorry excuse for a window. I did not deserve his trust, and I did not deserve his company. Jemier had the admiration of the Federation Senate, the admiration of other factions, the admiration of the Drakons, and more importantly, he had the admiration of the king. I hated myself because I was hated. I was always hated. But Jemier didn¡¯t accept that. He did not miss me out of perceived duty to the king¡¯s son. He missed me because he actually did care for me, and the depth of that care had changed. Did I feel the same for him, or did this ruin everything between us for good? I locked the door behind me like so many humans do in films. I gripped the sides of the sink and pressed my teeth against my tongue, giving me just enough pain to keep from collapsing into a pathetic heap. I wanted to destroy something. I could crack the mirror. I could crack the glass of the shower door too. I would need to clean up afterward if I broke anything. Not worth it. As Jemier knocked on the door, I considered notifying the Shadowfall Alliance of my presence. Let them kill me and be done with it. I could also renege on my promise to myself. If I proceeded with caution, if I abandoned all I believed in, I could turn the Alliance upside down until I was at the top. Jemier knocked again. I still wasn¡¯t ready to see him. ¡°Solin, come out,¡± came his muffled voice from behind the door. ¡°Go away.¡± ¡°Solin, please come out.¡± ¡°I said go away.¡± I might as well act like a human child if that was how everyone saw me. ¡°I¡¯m coming in there.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not breaking down my door.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll use the window.¡± ¡°You¡¯re too big.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll use the wall.¡± I wiped my entire face of tears. ¡°You will not use the wall!¡± ¡°So stop hiding in there!¡± ¡°I¡¯m not hiding! You know where I am.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t see you.¡± ¡°How is that any different than normal?¡± ¡°It isn¡¯t, except now you can¡¯t disguise yourself as a pillar. Will you open the door?¡± ¡°Will you go away?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Go away.¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t need you here, Jemier. I don¡¯t need your help. I don¡¯t need your trust or your friendship or whatever it is you feel for me. I can do this on my own, and I don¡¯t need you.¡± ¡°There is no shame in asking for help, drathos.¡± I pounded my fist against the door, wincing at the pain that followed. ¡°I am not your drathos! Why won¡¯t you understand that?¡± Silence, then very quietly a mumbled ¡°I do understand that.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°I said I¡ª¡± ¡°I know what you said!¡± I hit the door again on that last word, and evidently, the force hit Jemier, who must¡¯ve been resting his head against the door because I heard a reactionary grunt of pain. ¡°Sorry!¡± I said. I heard something else. ¡°What did you say?¡± ¡°Did you not hear me or are you asking for clarification?¡± he shot back. ¡°I didn¡¯t hear you.¡± ¡°What did you say?¡± I growled and opened the door with force. ¡°I said I didn¡¯t hear you.¡± ¡°I said it¡¯s been hard to deal with.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve had quite some time.¡± ¡°Barely a breath in Cydrithennan time.¡± ¡°It does not take Cydrithennans so long to adjust. We are very Gaian in that respect.¡± ¡°Were you weeping, Solin?¡± I scoffed and let my hair fall into my face. Without my powers, I had little else to rely upon to hide myself. ¡°No.¡± I steadied my breathing. ¡°I know,¡± he said softly, putting his hand on the doorjamb for support. ¡°I¡¯ve had a hard time dealing with all of this. Knowing what you were denied because of something outside of your control. Knowing I cannot undo what I have done, that I have taken something from you that is rightfully yours. Knowing that you will never forgive me, and that our time as friends has been eternally spoiled.¡± He sighed and leaned against the doorframe, his large form embodying most of the space. ¡°Knowing all of that, and still coming here to tell you how I feel anyway. You¡¯re right, Solin. We are not drathos, not any longer. Maybe it¡¯s our fault, or maybe it was done to us. Sometimes it feels like we¡¯ve been manipulated into playing someone else¡¯s life out.¡± ¡°What would it have even changed?¡± The vitriol had left my voice, replaced by tired curiosity. ¡°Had everyone been honest with me from the start, or if Varin never died, would anything have been different? I would have been accepted into your circle of friends, do you think?¡± ¡°They¡¯re your friends too, and they like you,¡± he said. ¡°I see you¡¯ve forgotten all the times they mocked me, distrusted me, and undermined me.¡± He opened his mouth to defend them, but I interrupted. ¡°Don¡¯t say it. I had the same training and same experiences as all of you, and everyone always treated me as an outsider. Varin was the crown prince. I was nothing, not even worthy of a breath that wasn¡¯t a laugh.¡± ¡°I am sorry, Solin.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be.¡± ¡°I wish¡­I wish we weren¡¯t going through this.¡± ¡°But we are.¡± I stared at the wall behind him. ¡°I have important work to do.¡± ¡°I wish to help you.¡± ¡°It has to be done alone.¡± ¡°Solin.¡± He took my hand in his, trying to shake my gaze away from the wall and toward him. ¡°Solin.¡± He shook me gently again and drew out the syllables of my name. ¡°Soh-lihn.¡± ¡°Stop. If I accept your help, then I¡¯ve failed.¡± ¡°You took Sam¡¯s help.¡± ¡°You weren¡¯t supposed to retort with that.¡± He swung my arm. ¡°We should finish eating. You made a fine meal.¡± ¡°Stop it, Jemier. We¡¯re not boys anymore.¡± He did not mention the fact that I had locked myself in the bathroom, but he also didn¡¯t stop swinging my arm. ¡°I could just pick you up and take you to your seat.¡± ¡°That¡¯d be assault or battery. I¡¯m not clear on the difference yet.¡± ¡°What are you speaking of?¡± ¡°Local laws as portrayed in film,¡± I replied. ¡°Do not pick me up.¡± ¡°I won¡¯t. Trust me, Solin.¡± ¡°I¡¯m having a hard time with that. As should you with me.¡± ¡°What happened between us didn¡¯t happen because of trust,¡± he said as we returned to the table. I let go of his hand and took up my fork. ¡°It did. You trusted me not to harm you, and I did.¡± ¡°You trusted me to trust your decision to leave, and clearly I didn¡¯t.¡± He stuffed a carrot into his mouth. ¡°I should have tried to find you on my own and heard you out first. Instead I came to collect you while you were clearly in crisis.¡± ¡°No, as much as I hate to give Karrdil any credit, you were right to trust your king, and no, do not excuse my actions. I don¡¯t, and the Gaians don¡¯t either. You should follow their lead.¡± ¡°Do you really think you¡¯re in danger here?¡± ¡°Of course, and I should be. That¡¯s the whole point of this punishment, isn¡¯t it? If the family of the man I accidentally killed should find me, they should seek vengeance. If the Shadowfall Alliance should find me, they should seek vengeance.¡± ¡°Sam hasn¡¯t hurt you, has he?¡± ¡°No, and he¡¯s not exactly with them anymore. I¡¯m not clear on the details.¡± ¡°But he found you. How can you be sure?¡± ¡°He has a way of tracking the signature of portals, so he knows when one of us arrives.¡± I didn¡¯t have enough wine to finish this conversation. I topped off our glasses. ¡°The Alliance can apparently track them too. Sam says he can stop them. Still, you should be careful if you insist on thinking about having feelings for me.¡± I smiled. He returned the smile. ¡°Have we ever been like this?¡± ¡°Going from fighting to getting along? Yes. All the time.¡± ¡°No, like this.¡± I skewered a carrot and shook my head. ¡°No. You¡¯ve never visited because you missed me and mistook that as having feelings for me, and I¡¯ve never cooked dinner for you.¡± ¡°It is a fine meal.¡± ¡°We¡¯ve gone over this already.¡± ¡°I mean it is truly a fine meal, Solin.¡± ¡°I¡¯m certain you¡¯ve had better Gaian food before. Surely at that tavern?¡± ¡°Different food. Not all of it good.¡± I did not know how to take the compliment. ¡°Understand that I can¡¯t thank you.¡± ¡°I understand. I don¡¯t think you should thank me. I do not compliment you to garner gratitude.¡± I gave him a regretful look, and we ate in silence for a while, processing our reunion. I finally broke the tension by asking him about the Netflix show, which I had already watched at length but gave up on. It reminded me too much of my own life, and I couldn¡¯t enjoy something that upset me so often. I suppose that made it rather good fiction. I set our dishes in the sink, and we retired in relative silence to the sofa, still sipping our wine. I could bear the quiet no longer and clicked on the news only to pick up my tablet and surf for supplemental information on each story we received. My Gaian constitution could not keep up with the mix of meal, wine, and the exhaustion of seeing Jemier again. Sleep screamed at my eyelids to close, but Jemier remained wide awake. I awoke when he slipped his hands under my body to carry me to bed. ¡°I¡¯m awake,¡± I yawned. ¡°You¡¯re exhausted.¡± ¡°I¡¯m cursed to be exhausted.¡± His hands were still beneath me. ¡°I can walk to bed on my own.¡± He brushed a curl out of my face. ¡°Let me take care of you.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know how to process your kindness, so please don¡¯t. Also, your other hand is still under my back.¡± ¡°You¡¯re crabby,¡± he said, and he hoisted me effortlessly. I didn¡¯t fight him despite my irritation. He only saved me a few footsteps and a modicum of energy. ¡°Crabby? You¡¯re already sounding Gaian,¡± I said. ¡°Am I?¡± ¡°Imagine the looks of the court when they hear your Drakon peppered with Gaian slang.¡± I smirked at him when he set me down. ¡°The king does find me more irritating lately.¡± ¡°Are you tired?¡± I said suddenly. ¡°I already slept.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not what I asked of you.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not what you asked. It wasn¡¯t a command.¡± He grinned. ¡°Oh, shut up.¡± ¡°I am tired.¡± ¡°Did you fit on the sofa?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Do you trust me enough to sleep on the sofa, knowing I could kill you in your sleep?¡± ¡°You won¡¯t kill me.¡± ¡°How could you know?¡± ¡°I know. Are you telling me I can stay with you while I help you?¡± I hesitated. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Thank you, Solin. It is a very kind gesture.¡± ¡°It¡¯s nothing.¡± I retrieved the spare bedding I had purchased just for him, proving I could indeed travel without his assistance. ¡°I have these if you want them.¡± ¡°Thank you. I could have gotten these myself.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not your duty as a guest.¡± He chuckled and settled down on the sofa. ¡°Thank you.¡± My hand reached for the light switch. ¡°Jemier. I¡¯ve been thinking about you too.¡± He gazed up at me. ¡°You have?¡± I should have said this while I had a pile of bedding to hide behind. ¡°I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s in the same way. I only know that you¡¯ve been showing up lately. You¡¯ve tried harder to keep our friendship alive than I have. Even when I didn¡¯t want you to care for me, you showed up and assured me I had a home. You might have tried to bring me in, but you also came to my trial and spoke up for me. And that¡­that¡¯s confusing for me. We were so close as boys, Jemier. You¡¯ve literally healed my wounds.¡± His cheeks glowed rose pink. ¡°You¡¯re my friend first, Solin. Always.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry about earlier. Feelings aside, you confided in me a great secret, and I completely glossed over it. And I did want you here. In fact, I was starting to wonder what took you so long.¡± ¡°Were you?¡± ¡°Yes, I was.¡± I turned out the lights. ¡°You may continue to watch your show if you¡¯d like, but I warn you, the later installments are infuriating.¡± Jemier sat up and smiled at me. ¡°I shall venture forth with caution.¡± I gave him a half smile. ¡°Good night, Jemier.¡± He gave me a dreamy look in return. ¡°Good night, Solin.¡± Part II, Chapter 14

Part II

Love, magick, and murder.

Chapter 14

22953 YD (1662 CE) The North Mountains, Cydrithenna
¡°Plenty of cold women to warm up in that town,¡± said Varin, as though people were prizes for him to sack. Beside him, his battle squire sharpened his sword. Other battle attendants filtered in and out of the ornately decorated royal tent. Two tended to the fire while we rested from the first day of yet another quelling. The moment we¡¯d become adults, we were deemed fit for a real battle, and my father often placed me and the others in a unit commanded by my brother. I didn¡¯t know whether this was to keep us all safe while we forged ourselves as soldiers, or if it was to keep Varin out of trouble. I would¡¯ve preferred to not take orders from my brother, but his horrific remark reminded me of my duty to not just Drakons, but the factions we fought. These were peacekeeping missions after all, and if I wanted to stop believing in that paradoxical name, it meant preserving the honor of our enemies in other ways. ¡°Who knew you were capable of providing anyone warmth?¡± ¡°Oh, shut up, brother. They¡¯re cold because they¡¯re Frost Giants, and savages at that.¡± ¡°They¡¯re not savages, Varin,¡± said Corian, whose leadership I would have preferred over Varin¡¯s. She must have been truly disgusted with him to not even use his designated title. He rolled his eyes. ¡°Here comes the history lesson¡­¡± ¡°No, really, tell us the difference, Varin. How are they savages and you, for example, are not?¡± I didn¡¯t mask the massive smirk that spanned my cheeks. Eleric and Jemier tensed. Renny glanced nervously between all of us. ¡°Because I¡¯d know better than to cause an uprising against my Drakon masters.¡± ¡°This uprising is against Storm Giants. We¡¯re on Storm Giant land. They fight alongside us and are in this camp right now and can probably hear you.¡± ¡°So? As our allies, they owe us fealty as their masters.¡± ¡°No, as our allies they are our equals,¡± she said. Renny put a hand on Corian¡¯s shoulder, and she shrugged out from beneath it. ¡°No, don¡¯t you dare. I¡¯m not wrong here.¡± ¡°I am your prince,¡± said Varin. ¡°If I tell you that those mountains are covered in sugar, you believe it.¡± Her eyes could kill worlds. ¡°And if you march into those snow-covered mountains tonight, Varin, I will stop you. I promise you that.¡± Yes, a much better leader than Varin indeed. He sneered at her across the fire, then his eyes flitted to the blade his attendant was sharpening. ¡°And how will you stop me, exactly?¡± ¡°The same way I do every time we train in the yard.¡± I snorted, drawing both of their glares. ¡°What? She¡¯s not wrong.¡± ¡°Forget both of you.¡± He stood. ¡°I merely wanted to suggest a night of fun, and Corian had to ruin it, as always. I wouldn¡¯t really take up with some Giant, enemy or ally, Frost or Storm. And besides, it¡¯s not like I was leaving her out of anything. There are plenty of men around here for her to warm herself upon. Some of them stronger than others.¡± He tilted his head quizzically at her. ¡°That is if you even like swords.¡± She stood. ¡°Oh, I like swords plenty. Sharp ones, steel ones, short ones, long ones, slender ones, thickones¡­¡± Varin grinned. ¡°Well now you¡¯ve gone and turned me on, Corian.¡± She hid her disgust well. ¡°Have a drink at tonight¡¯s feast with me.¡± ¡°Gladly,¡± she said. ¡°So long as the boys come with.¡± ¡°And why¡¯s that?¡± ¡°So they can watch me drink you under the table.¡± Jemier and I burst out laughing. Varin bit his bottom lip in intrigue, and Renny furrowed his brow. Eleric blanched. Corian commanded us with raised brows to get up and follow her. We obeyed the order. * Eleric and I did not get along very well. I found him to be more jester-like than warrior, more licentious than romantic. Like me, he¡¯d grown his hair long but styled it roguishly and kept it tied back almost permanently instead of in moments that called for it practically, as I did. Beardless, but not clean-shaven, his face bore only the wrinkles of smiles and laughter. Women often surrounded him, including Corian Scaleborn¡¯s sister, Safryne. Eleric¡¯s good looks and the attention of the elder Scaleborn drove Varin wild with jealousy. And now we were stuck together during this ridiculous feast that our Storm Giant allies had thrown for us. A reward for a battle well won. No casualties, unless you counted the loss of Renny¡¯s favorite dagger. Mead, wine, and beer flowed freely. Entire animals roasted above fires. Drums and horns had found their way out of trunks. No wonder so many warriors like my brother relished in war¡ªthey had an excuse to exercise their blood lust and get rewarded for it. No matter how necessary it was to keep the Frost Giants from invading Storm Giant lands, we didn¡¯t have to cheer about it. But a prince had to do right by his country. Varin and Corian¡¯s contest had been put on hiatus by a conversation Varin had to have with the Storm Giants¡¯ general, giving me the opportunity to sneak away. To my dismay, I hadn¡¯t masked my exit and Eleric had followed me, perhaps using me as his excuse to leave the others. I tolerated his presence since he seemed unusually distant and uninterested in becoming a proper reveler, and it was probably better that I not be seen alone. We stood off to the side of a tent for battle attendants. Eleric¡¯s eyes focused sternly into nothingness, and he¡¯d barely sipped his beer. Still. Odd for Eleric to not enjoy himself. Even odder for the two of us to engage in conversation or be friendly off the battlefield. Only in combat did any of our relationships change for the better. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Of our squad, Corian and I were the most magickally inclined, but the magicks we studied vastly differed. She took the offensive, brandishing the elements as a supplement to her deadly sword. I was the opposite, attacking the enemy¡¯s wits with deception and then setting them up for a killing blow from a squad mate or my own blade. Only Varin scoffed at a setup for a takedown. The others enjoyed it, Renny especially. Eleric, however, rarely needed a setup. He worked the battlefield like a dance floor, executing enemies with a grace that showed them dignity in their final breaths. He was the antithesis of Varin in combat. ¡°I suppose we should eat something soon,¡± Eleric said. ¡°What would you prefer?¡± I asked, staring at the blanket of tents and glowing fires cascading down the gentle slope. ¡°Cow? Boar?¡± I peered deeper into the camp. ¡°Whatever that is?¡± ¡°Bear?¡± I squinted. ¡°Is it?¡± ¡°I like not knowing my food has a face.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll take care of your plate then.¡± He laughed. ¡°The prince, serving me?¡± ¡°You¡¯re too good of a warrior to go hungry at night.¡± I weighed our options again. We had a blended camp of Drakons and Storm Giants set up along a tree-sheltered ridge overlooking a ravine. Here in the mountainous, frigid north lay the border between three factions of Giants: Storm, Stone, and Frost, the latter two having banded together to disrupt the Storm Giants¡¯ lumber mills in nearby towns. The ravine provided a natural barrier while the ridge acted as a watchtower, but the location could not have been colder; Eleric¡¯s nose and cheeks were cherry red, and my face tingled. The chill bit into us despite the outdoor cookfires, despite the old-fashioned wood stoves that heated the interiors of tents, despite our cloaks and layers of clothes and fur we buried ourselves beneath. Eleric inhaled deeply through his nose. ¡°Is that dough?¡± I stilled and tried to find the scent amongst the grease, alcohol, and smoke. ¡°Pan bread?¡± ¡°I think so.¡± ¡°That doesn¡¯t have a face. Let¡¯s head in that direction.¡± The tents were arranged in a maze by design, and with every soul in the camp braving the cold for the sake of fun, the pathways were cramped, made worse by the drunken soldiers who weren¡¯t drunk enough to not salute me as I passed, but drunk enough to not realize they were stepping right in front of me to do it. I uttered ¡°at ease¡± so often that I began to question the existence of the phrase. ¡°We¡¯re not getting too far away from the others, are we?¡± Eleric asked. ¡°The farther the better.¡± ¡°What about Corian?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve learned the hard way not to interfere on her behalf. She is quite capable of handling herself. Besides, Jemier and Renny are within earshot.¡± ¡°Renny¡¯s stood by before.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t I know it.¡± I told another soldier to cease their salute and carry on. ¡°But Jemier won¡¯t, and Renny¡¯s in love with Corian anyway.¡± The bread eluded us. ¡°Where the hell is this bread?¡± Eleric gestured with his beer. ¡°This way, maybe?¡± We walked through a cloud of tobacco smoke. The Storm Giants must have passed out the cigars already. We choked on the cloud, waving the smoke from our faces as we tried to navigate the path. ¡°So sorry, Your Highness!¡± Another soldier at attention. The intoxicated Storm Giant soldier beside him looked up as though waking from a dream and gave me a half wave. Other Drakon soldiers took the cue and stood at attention. I cleared my throat. The smoke smelled good, but it burned like hell. ¡°At ease, seriously. All of you. Spread the word. No more saluting tonight.¡± The soldiers gradually relaxed. One pulled out a cigar. ¡°Would you like one?¡± ¡°No thank you.¡± Eleric nudged me. The soldiers shared a circle of golden-brown pan bread. ¡°The pan bread,¡± I said. ¡°Where did you get it?¡± ¡°Um, up that way.¡± I nodded at the soldier. He saluted me. I let it go and thanked the whole group for their service today. ¡°All right, we¡¯re going to do something,¡± I said to Eleric. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± ¡°I¡¯m going to mask us, and we are going to get that damn bread if it¡¯s the last thing we do.¡± He chuckled. ¡°You can mask me too?¡± ¡°I absolutely can.¡± ¡°How does that work? Like your other illusions?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°So we don¡¯t need to be touching for it to work.¡± ¡°No, we don¡¯t have to¡ªactually¡­¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°We would move around faster.¡± I extended my hand. He set down his beer on the side of a tent and took my palm into his, and away we went. We wove between soldiers and attendants without incident, if you don¡¯t count the time Eleric¡¯s hand slipped from mine and he smacked into someone, who, because Eleric was cloaked in my magick, twirled around to look for the source of the impact and could find no one. Otherwise, we made it to a glorious source of fresh pan bread unharmed and, more importantly, unsaluted. The attendants baking the bread for any who wanted some also offered us beer and private seats near the cookfire to sit and enjoy our meal. ¡°So.¡± Eleric leaned over, talking quietly to avoid the ears of our baking host. ¡°That¡¯s what it¡¯s like to move around while invisible.¡± ¡°Yes. How did it feel?¡± ¡°Strange but liberating.¡± He stared at the fire. ¡°I wish I could learn to do that.¡± ¡°To hide from your many admirers, no doubt.¡± ¡°From your brother, actually.¡± I jolted. ¡°Eleric, what did you mean earlier? That Renny¡¯s stood by before?¡± ¡°Your brother just seems fixated on me lately. Calling me all sorts of things, threatening to teach me lessons. And Renny laughs like it¡¯s a joke, but it¡¯s not. I think Varin¡¯s serious.¡± ¡°He¡¯s a troll. They both are.¡± ¡°I think Renny¡¯s just scared, so he goes along with it.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t excuse his cowardice.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not trying to.¡± He huffed out a cloud of white air. ¡°I¡¯m guilty of the same thing, anyway. I always leave when things get tense between you two.¡± ¡°Not always.¡± ¡°Enough for you to hate me.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t hate you.¡± ¡°Strongly dislike me.¡± I gave him a nonchalant shrug. ¡°No, not even that. I think I was more indifferent to you.¡± ¡°Was?¡± ¡°Well clearly we¡¯re getting along even better than we used to when we were smaller.¡± ¡°That¡¯s true. And you helped me get food without a face, so there¡¯s that.¡± I lifted my beer. ¡°Cheers, Eleric.¡± ¡°Cheers.¡± We clinked glasses. ¡°Now that we are more than indifferent to each other,¡± he said. ¡°Tell me what Renny did to you?¡± ¡°Are you sure?¡± ¡°That bad?¡± ¡°Very much so.¡± My throat tightened just thinking about it, but my body seemed more focused on defrosting than panic. ¡°We were playing in the river, the shallow part.¡± ¡°The swimming hole?¡± ¡°Yes. We were very young. I think Varin had only picked up his first practice sword. Renny and Jemier were there, but Jemier had to find a tree, and so it was just the three of us. Anyway, Varin decided to play sharks, and he grabbed me and pulled me under.¡± Eleric gasped. ¡°Oh, Solin, I¡¯m so sorry.¡± ¡°And then, um¡ª¡± I held up my hand to pause and took a sip of beer. It went down my throat like a shard of glass. ¡°¡ªI¡¯ve never told anyone this.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t have to finish.¡± I took a beat to breathe. ¡°It¡¯s fine. I¡¯m fine.¡± After another deep breath, I said, ¡°Varin swam up and then held me down there. I swallowed water. He started laughing and said I had to learn to breathe underwater if I wanted to swim better. I thrashed at his legs, and he fell only to come up angrier. My lungs burned, and I started choking so much I almost got sick right there in the river. And then¡­well Jemier came back at some point and was yelling. Varin let go, and by the time I could get above water Jemier was already in the river, halfway out to me. Renny¡¯s face was red like he¡¯d been laughing the whole time, but Jemier just took me home. We sat in my room on the floor for hours. He locked the door so no one could get in.¡± I¡¯d knocked the words out of Eleric. ¡°And that¡¯s why Renny can go straight to hell with my brother, and why you¡¯ll never catch me choking down the smoke of any cigar.¡± ¡°Solin, I¡¯m so sorry. What do you need from me?¡± What did I¡­need from him? ¡°Nothing?¡± ¡°You sure?¡± ¡°I am?¡± ¡°You¡¯re giving me a look.¡± ¡°I¡¯m just not used to that being the first thing someone says to me.¡± ¡°Well get used to it.¡± I couldn¡¯t help but laugh and release all that tension. ¡°Yes sir.¡± ¡°All right,¡± said Eleric. ¡°New pact. We¡¯ll always have each other¡¯s backs and annoy Renny whenever possible.¡± ¡°Oh, we¡¯re forming pacts now?¡± He smiled. ¡°Yes. Is that not allowed at this upper level of not-quite indifference?¡± ¡°Typically not, but we can make an exception. Especially since you seem particularly adept at making me laugh.¡± I held up my beer again. ¡°To pissing them off?¡± ¡°To pissing them off.¡± Clink. Chapter 15 2017 Polaris, New York
I unlocked the door to my apartment an hour later than expected. Mishap after mishap occurred after we closed the kitchen at Our Lady of Sorrows, and I had no way to contact Jemier and let him know. I endeavored to purchase him a phone somehow with the tablet. I stepped into a dark apartment. Had he gone out looking for me after only an hour? ¡°Jemier?¡± I flicked on the light. I checked the sofa, wondering if he had fallen asleep, but instead found his blanket folded neatly beside his pillow with a piece of paper atop it. A note, written in Drakon. After only three days here, he was already gone, his farewell containing no explanation. I sat down on the sofa and stared at the note for a long time. I contemplated the history and the futures I would never have. I contemplated until the night became morning. Sleep-deprived, I soldiered on and visited Star Caf¨¦. Armand smiled at me from behind the counter. I ordered my latte, not decaffeinated even though I knew what I was in for¡ªthat was the point¡ªand sat down in the corner away from the windows. The place soon filled up with busy, unpleasant people. Many treated the baristas poorly and did not clean up after themselves despite the many trash receptacles available for their use. They did not respect others in the caf¨¦. Thank goodness for Our Lady of Sorrows. When a guest became unruly, it wasn¡¯t personal. Here, humans treated one another with an egregious amount of disdain. Although the baristas seemed accustomed to the behavior, I¡¯m sure they didn¡¯t appreciate it. A dry sandiness filled my eyes. I needed another boost. I stepped into line again, holding a new book I¡¯d acquired using the tablet, and waited. Armand spotted me and found his way to the register when I approached. I ordered another suspended coffee, a second latte¡ªdecaf¡ªand decided my boost would be glucose in the form of a muffin, a kind I will never get again. Whoever thought that all those fruits needed to be crammed together and destroyed with sickeningly sweet jam in the center? They must¡¯ve been born without a tongue or a digestive system, because they lacked respect for either. I ate the muffin, but I did not enjoy it. The latte helped destroy the taste. Traffic in the caf¨¦ died down, and the baristas dispersed from the counter and took on other tasks. Armand came out to wipe the tables. ¡°So,¡± he said, tending the table next to me, ¡°when did you start ordering muffins?¡± ¡°Worry not. Today was my first adventure into such a precarious order.¡± ¡°Glad we could take it together,¡± he smiled. ¡°How¡¯s the latte?¡± ¡°Expertly made.¡± ¡°And the book?¡± ¡°Grotesquely over-reviewed.¡± I¡¯d actually closed it several minutes ago and had picked up an abandoned newspaper from another table. ¡°I thought the same thing.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve read it?¡± ¡°Unfortunately. Her other works are better. You should check them out. They probably have them at the library.¡± He stuffed a crumpled napkin into an empty cup and tossed both in the trash. ¡°Where is the library?¡± ¡°You¡¯ve never been?¡± ¡°I¡¯m new to the area.¡± His eyes darted upward. ¡°Um, let¡¯s see. From here you go¡­actually, do you have your phone?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± I pulled out my phone. Gaian advertisements on the tablet had alerted me to all of the various map apps available to me. They had a long way to go when compared to Daerlyvian technology, but Gaians weren¡¯t exactly devoted to interplanetary travel either. I opened the map app. Armand held out his hand, and without thinking, I passed him my phone. He made a gesture, zooming out the map, and then leaned close and pointed to the library. ¡°That book icon right there.¡± He smelled of vanilla and coffee. He returned my phone. ¡°Thank you,¡± I said. ¡°No problem.¡± He held out his hand. A handshake, a gesture found in some parts of the Daerlyvian system as well. Albeit with its nuances. ¡°What was your name?¡± ¡°Jon.¡± I shook his hand. ¡°Armand. Nice chatting with you, Jon.¡± ¡°You too.¡± I paused, staring at the map on the phone. ¡°Actually, while I have you here, would you mind showing me where Saint Mary¡¯s is?¡± ¡°I would, but I don¡¯t actually know.¡± ¡°What have you heard about it?¡± ¡°Not much. Apparently it¡¯s beautiful.¡± ¡°Because of the architecture.¡± ¡°Yeah. Sometimes people and local bands go there to take pictures.¡± An urban legend then. No way a Daemon would go unnoticed by so many cameras. ¡°Thank you, Armand.¡± ¡°Let me know if you ever go there. I¡¯d love to see some photos.¡± ¡°Assuming I¡¯ll come back to show you?¡± I grinned. He gave me a sly smile. ¡°One can hope.¡± * Two weeks passed without Jemier, but not without Armand. I spent the cloudy morning at the caf¨¦, sitting close enough to the counter to talk to him between his customers. ¡°You were right, by the way.¡± I nodded at the book on the table. ¡°Her other books are much better.¡± ¡°Seems like we have the same taste in books, huh?¡± Thunder boomed, rattling dishes behind the counter and interrupting my witty reply. When we were younger, Jemier and I used to watch storms from a palace tower. As we grew older and our friendship more fraught, I watched them from my balcony alone. ¡°It¡¯s raining,¡± Armand said. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Are you all right?¡± My wistful glance must have said more than I desired it to. I brushed the question aside. ¡°Fine. I find rain calming.¡± ¡°Ah. Me too.¡± My phone annoyed me with one of Sam¡¯s texts. His surveillance infuriated me. Never mind that I¡¯d agreed to it. We¡¯d have to seriously revisit that unsteady contract later. The more pressing issue was the contents of his message. ¡°Excuse me.¡± I grabbed a topper to keep rain from infiltrating my latte and headed out into the storm. ¡°You don¡¯t have an umbrella!¡± Armand called out to me, but I pretended I hadn¡¯t heard him. I ran into Jemier on the street, just as Sam¡¯s texts said I would. He was appropriately dressed in Gaian clothing. Still no umbrella. At least I had an excuse. ¡°Where the hell did you come from?!¡± I demanded of him, fearing for our security. ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± he said. ¡°I was with the Shadowfall Alliance.¡± I shushed him, and I didn¡¯t apologize. ¡°What do you have?¡± he asked. ¡°A latte.¡± At his puzzled look, I clarified. ¡°It¡¯s a type of coffee.¡± ¡°Oh, I enjoy coffee very much. Would you show me where you got it from?¡± ¡°You¡¯ll be noticed.¡± ¡°I won¡¯t be noticed.¡± ¡°You¡¯re a striking man without an umbrella whose often too loud and too cheery.¡± I led him toward the caf¨¦ anyway. ¡°You¡¯ll be noticed.¡± ¡°Striking?¡± ¡°Oh, shut up. You know you¡¯re attractive. Don¡¯t pretend it¡¯s never given you an edge before.¡± ¡°Your hair is starting to curl.¡± ¡°Yes, because I had to come out here and collect you before you did anything suspicious.¡± Long-lasting, maximum-hold product¡ªwhat nonsense. I vowed to switch brands the next time I went shopping. ¡°Come on.¡± We stepped inside the caf¨¦, and most of the patrons within held their gazes long enough to prove my point. I switched to the regional English, hoping Jemier would take the cue. ¡°See?¡± ¡°Perhaps they look at you.¡± At least he didn¡¯t speak in Drakon. ¡°They see me too often to think such of me. What do you want?¡± ¡°What you have. A delicious latte!¡± I brought my hand to my brow. ¡°What did I just say?¡± ¡°Oh, I heard what you just said,¡± he smirked. Armand snickered at me and poured ¡°a delicious latte,¡± or so the writing on the side of the takeout cup said. I paid and gave Armand an apologetic look before taking Jemier to a table farther from the counter. ¡°How are my enemies in the Alliance?¡± I removed the top from my latte, dripping rainwater into it. I let out a quiet scoff of disgust but drank it anyway, if reluctantly. ¡°They are well. You really don¡¯t like them.¡± ¡°Hence the use of ¡®enemies.¡¯ I thought we established this last time you were here. Anyway, why would I? They want me dead, and even if they didn¡¯t, they broke their sacred oath to the Last Dragons and formed their own faction. They¡¯re traitors.¡± ¡°Except Sam.¡± ¡°That¡¯s a given by now, isn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°I was just making sure you still felt that way.¡± ¡°Sam hasn¡¯t betrayed me yet.¡± ¡°Your father agrees with you. Not about Sam, about the Alliance. When I first told him of what transpired¡ª¡± ¡°That they are on a long list of those who have betrayed me? Or that they broke their oath?¡± Jemier readjusted his grip on the cup. ¡°About the oath.¡± ¡°Figures. Did he command you to slay every last one of them?¡± ¡°No. Not at all. Is that what you would¡¯ve wanted?¡± ¡°Of course not.¡± He sipped his coffee. ¡°Don¡¯t seem so surprised that your father didn¡¯t either. They still protect the portal.¡± ¡°They do it for their own survival, not because of an oath.¡± ¡°Gaians were bound to discover it eventually. Can you blame the protectors for¡ª¡± Patrons sat beside us. He lowered his voice. ¡°For what they did?¡± I couldn¡¯t, but I wanted to. I understood survival. I struggled more with the broken promise. Our Dragon ancestors had no choice but to open a massive portal and seek refuge here when the Giants had been hunting them into extinction. Could they have known Shadowfall would be the portal that never closed? That in their urgency, they would make a wound in spacetime that would never heal? All they had known was that they wouldn¡¯t be there to protect the link between our worlds, so they had to entrust their allies to do that for them. This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡°The Daemons and Fae made a promise to their dying friends,¡± I said. ¡°They went against that, took Gaians into the fold, and the Gaians betrayed them.¡± I sighed. ¡°Humans.¡± ¡°Oh, right.¡± He leaned in and whispered, ¡°Humans. Hu-mans. Hee-yu-mans¡ª¡± ¡°Stop, please?¡± ¡°Sorry.¡± ¡°The topic at hand, perhaps?¡± ¡°The promise? You may not want me to continue.¡± ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Because their promise was the same promise you broke when you were last here.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not the same.¡± ¡°It¡¯s kind of the same.¡± ¡°Enough, Jemier.¡± ¡°I know you well, So¡ªJon.¡± I tapped my latte. ¡°Let¡¯s just drink these and make attempts to be civil while we dry.¡± I glanced at Armand to be sure he hadn¡¯t overheard anything that would scare him away from me. He caught my glance and dipped his brows in curiosity. I tilted my head in reply. I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re asking. He exaggerated his expression, as though asking, Who are you with? I shook my head and sent him a slight wave. I¡¯ll tell you later. He nodded and carried on with his work. ¡°Who¡¯s that?¡± I turned back to find myself beneath an accusing stare. ¡°Armand, the barista.¡± ¡°I see.¡± ¡°What do you see?¡± Jemier sipped his coffee. ¡°We¡¯re going,¡± I said, standing up. I discarded my rain-infected latte on my way out. Jemier followed. Partway home, I scolded myself for wasting a luxury. We arrived at the apartment. As we removed our shoes, I scowled at him. ¡°What is it?¡± ¡°Armand is no one. I¡¯m allowed to have Gaian acquaintances. It¡¯s sort of a necessity on Gaia¡ªEarth!¡ªjust as it is on Cydrithenna, not that you would know that I don¡¯t know what that¡¯s like.¡± ¡°Solin, that¡¯s not what I meant.¡± ¡°Then what did you mean? Because it certainly didn¡¯t sound like an apology for leaving so suddenly and with a note of all things, and that could¡¯ve been the only other thing you were supposed to say.¡± He held my shoulders square. I squirmed out of his hold and walked into the kitchen even though I really should have been fetching a towel for my soaked hair. I needed to calm down. I brewed myself a fresh cup of decaf coffee, cheating with my new appliance that made single-cup brews on demand. I went through the steps with swift, stiff motions and tapped my foot while the coffee brewed. ¡°Don¡¯t you worry that they¡¯ll discover I¡¯m here?¡± I said. ¡°Who?¡± ¡°The Shadowfall Alliance. The people you so casually visited without a reason.¡± ¡°Your father wanted me to.¡± ¡°How many years has it been since he discovered they broke their oath? And he sends you, at the same time his son is in exile on their home planet? All they¡¯d have to do is follow you once, and I¡¯m dead.¡± ¡°They know nothing of your exile, Solin. They wouldn¡¯t even think you were here to look for.¡± ¡°So don¡¯t change that. No more¡­liaison missions, or whatever the hell Karrdil calls them. Not while I¡¯m here, which is going to be for the rest of my life, if you recall.¡± I retrieved my coffee and made it perfect with a touch of regular milk, stirring it vigorously. I¡¯d learned to tolerate milk since arriving on Gaia, especially if it was cloaked beneath the flavor of other things. I certainly tolerated milk better than I currently tolerated Jemier. ¡°If he orders me to report on their status, then I must.¡± ¡°Then you won¡¯t be welcome here.¡± ¡°Because I am so clearly welcome right now.¡± Jemier stared at me while I stirred, while I brooded, while I tried not to hate that I could no longer use my powers or any sound argument to defend myself. ¡°I don¡¯t understand why you¡¯re so upset,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m upset that you left me without a proper goodbye, gallivanted over to visit with the people who want my head on a stick, then came back here and had the nerve to question me about the people I¡¯m befriending. But of course you wouldn¡¯t understand that. You wouldn¡¯t understand because you¡¯ve never taken time to understand anything when it comes to us.¡± ¡°I thought we came to an understanding the last time we argued?¡± He removed his coat, and finally set down his bag. ¡°Solin¡ª¡± ¡°Don¡¯t you dare make yourself at home,¡± I said. At once, I feared he would not ask to stay one last time. He did as I feared, and he reached for his coat. ¡°Wait,¡± I said. He paused. Had he hoped I would stop him? I ceased stirring my coffee so vigorously and set the spoon and my favorite cup aside. ¡°I only wish for us to be honest with each other, Solin. I don¡¯t want to see what has happened between us happen again.¡± ¡°What happened in our past was not merely between us,¡± I reminded him. ¡°Part of it was.¡± His brow raised. ¡°Do I make it harder for you?¡± I gave him a snarky shake of my head and a smug gesture to elaborate. ¡°To reinvent yourself. Do I remind you of what you don¡¯t have? Is that why we fight?¡± ¡°We fight because we always fight, Jemier.¡± ¡°We haven¡¯t always fought, and you haven¡¯t answered my question, Solin.¡± I glanced at my hands, seeking the courage to tell him the truth. ¡°We fight because it is all I can do.¡± He approached the kitchen. ¡°You do not have to fight me.¡± I stepped back. His kindness would make this more difficult. ¡°I cannot escape you. I cannot trick you. I cannot hide. I cannot use any of my magick, and I cannot even give advice. There is nothing else I can do other than fight you.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t trust that I trust you again.¡± ¡°Why would you?¡± ¡°Because¡ª¡± ¡°I¡¯m not asking you a direct question, Heir of Karrdil. I am being colorful about giving you several reasons why you should not trust me. For instance, I tried to murder you.¡± ¡°Self-defense, and I firmly believe you wouldn¡¯t have been able to deal with the gravity of such a deed had you succeeded.¡± ¡°You believe it was self-defense?¡± I kept the island between us and circled it. He followed, eyeing me across the short yet metaphorically vast distance. ¡°You think I actually did not understand that you would be dead forever had I killed you?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°And at what point did you think of me as an infant? I had already slain many by that time. I was not some child who could not understand the finality of death, and I never needed tales of any heavens to make that easier as an adult.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t believe in an afterlife.¡± I merely shook my head incredulously. ¡°There is no real reason for you to be here. It doesn¡¯t benefit you to be here.¡± ¡°I did not think about a benefit to me, aside from getting to see you.¡± ¡°And I¡¯m telling you, Jemier, that I don¡¯t have the history to understand that! I have nothing in my past to make me trust that!¡± ¡°Damn it, Solin!¡± His fist hit the counter, leaving a noticeable crack, and not only did my coffee leap from its cup, the cup tipped over and broke on the floor. Whatever he was about to say got caught in his mouth. His eyes grew as wide as mine, and his mouth hung open in shock. ¡°Solin, I¡¯m sorry.¡± ¡°You spilled my coffee,¡± I said with an eerily calm tone of voice. That calmness left, and a grin of anger tugged at my mouth. ¡°And you broke my cup.¡± I stared at the shards. ¡°That was my favorite cup.¡± My eyes journeyed toward the crack in the granite. ¡°And you¡­¡± The anger faded to madness, and I started laughing. ¡°You cracked my counter!¡± I tried to stifle my laughter as I retrieved towels to clean up the mess. ¡°Solin, I¡¯m sorry. Let me help you.¡± I said nothing as he snatched another tea towel and bent down beside me to collect the sharp remnants of my favorite cup. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t mean to break anything,¡± he said again, crouching only inches away from me. We huddled over the mess, and I kept trying not to laugh as he kept trying to apologize. ¡°I don¡¯t understand why you¡¯re laughing,¡± he said. ¡°Because this is so very apropos.¡± I wiped the cupboard door on the side of the island. ¡°You and I care about each other so much that we fight until something gets utterly and completely destroyed, and then we have to clean up the mess.¡± ¡°We should be thankful it was only a cup.¡± ¡°And my countertop.¡± ¡°And your countertop.¡± He gave me a look, his eyes and lips smiling at me. I started laughing loudly then, and he joined in. I leaned back to sit on the floor, using my hands for support, then let out a yelp of pain and the hearty human curse of ¡°Fuck!¡± ¡°Solin!¡± Jemier stood and took me over to the sink. Bright-red blood gushed from my palm where my no-longer-favorite cup had flayed my skin into a flap. I clenched my teeth. I¡¯d been hurt worse before, and I¡¯d been subjected to far worse weapons than a broken shard of my no-longer-favorite cup before too, yet the cut burned. I let Jemier clean me up, mostly because I was both intrigued and shocked that my threshold for pain and injury had diminished this much. I had not even cut my fingers so terribly when I had started my journey as a cook. ¡°Where is your healing poultice?¡± ¡°I have a first aid kit.¡± I nodded to a cupboard. ¡°In there, bottom shelf.¡± While he retrieved it, I gave my cleaned-off flap of palm a good look. What a curious injury. A bandage would suffice. The cut would impede my ability to prepare food; I suppose I could serve in the cafeteria for a week. Although I could chop with the other hand, even with a glove I couldn¡¯t continuously wash dishes. ¡°Are you all right, Solin?¡± ¡°I¡¯m fine, just surprised.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry I missed that shard. I should have seen it.¡± He wrapped my wound. ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not fine.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not fragile.¡± ¡°Solin.¡± ¡°I am fragile, but not that fragile. I will be fine.¡± He finished and put the kit away. ¡°I shall cook for us. Where do you keep everything?¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t say you could stay again.¡± I leaned against the sink. A mistake. My shirt absorbed water that had splashed on the edge of the counter. I groaned and peeled the wet fabric away from my skin. My hair had soaked my shoulders and back just as much. I groaned again and pulled off the shirt entirely as I headed for the dryer. While I found myself a fresh shirt, Jemier stayed in the kitchen, insistent on cleaning up what remained on the floor. ¡°May I stay with you then, Solin?¡± ¡°Must you?¡± ¡°I have nowhere else to stay in this city.¡± I returned with a shirt that had the image of a green mushroom on it. After purchasing it, I had discovered that this green mushroom image identified me as a ¡°gamer.¡± At least it made me blend in. I toweled off my hair and threw Jemier a towel to do the same for his. ¡°Yes, you may stay, but I don¡¯t want any letters from you before you disappear.¡± ¡°So you don¡¯t want me to tell you.¡± ¡°No, I want you to tell me in person. I won¡¯t have to worry that the Shadowfall Alliance stole you and left a letter in your stead.¡± ¡°That¡¯s why I wrote it in Drakon.¡± He searched through my cupboards. He had watched me cook during the later days of his last stay, but he must not have paid attention. ¡°I think you are pretending you did not miss me.¡± ¡°For fuck¡¯s sake, Jemier, I¡¯m trying to keep at least a little bit of myself.¡± ¡°You¡¯re speaking like a Gaian.¡± He shook his head, then massaged his jaw. ¡°A hu-man. A you-min. Which one is it?¡± I growled. ¡°Just cook us something, will you? And don¡¯t give me food poisoning. What you¡¯re looking for is in the bottom cupboard. No, not there. How would pots and pans fit in one that size? Yes, there.¡± ¡°I can cook eggs and boil noodles.¡± ¡°Who can¡¯t cook eggs and boil noodles?¡± ¡°I do not know, Solin, but I am amongst those who can.¡± I returned to the island and sat on a stool, finger running along the crack he made. ¡°Please be gentler with my dishes than you were with my countertop.¡± ¡°I have the touch of a feather, Solin.¡± He poured two glasses of orange juice. ¡°You won¡¯t have to worry.¡± He prepared us eggs and toast. The eggs were scrambled by design, it seemed, not by error. I leaned forward, my elbow on the counter, chin in my uninjured hand, the wounded one in my lap. ¡°It was a runic dagger,¡± I said. He buttered our toast. ¡°What are you talking about?¡± ¡°For your birthday. The year I taunted you, and you ended up with nothing, and we fought, and you broke something. I had a runic dagger for you.¡± ¡°Solin, you don¡¯t have to pretend now that I¡¯m serving you breakfast.¡± He set our plates down. An ugly presentation, but the food had no visible flaws. ¡°I¡¯m not pretending. Karrdil stole it from me. He said it was wrong to give children weapons. The irony of that.¡± I rolled my eyes. ¡°Anyway, the box is still under my bed.¡± His arm brushed mine. ¡°You got me a runic dagger.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°You kept it under your bed?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not just trying to make me feel better?¡± I swallowed a chunk of egg. Seasoned better than I had expected. ¡°I promise you. It is not some ruse I had planned for years, only to finally lead you to an empty box beneath my bed. I had truly purchased you a runic dagger.¡± I took another bite. ¡°You would have loved it. It was in perfect condition. The engravings and fuller had little buildup in them.¡± ¡°What did he do with it?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I said. ¡°I looked for it many times but never found it. He may have resold it.¡± His faint smile grew wider the longer he thought about it. ¡°You got me a runic dagger.¡± ¡°Yes,¡± I said with a slight chuckle. He nudged me playfully with his elbow, only it was a bit too hard because it nearly sent me off the stool. He caught me, and I regained my balance. ¡°Sorry.¡± ¡°Never fall for a Gaian,¡± I said. ¡°I shudder to think of what they¡¯d endure in bed with you.¡± He nearly choked on his food. ¡°Are you all right?¡± I said, placing my injured hand between his shoulders. He cleared his throat and drank his orange juice. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t tell me that all I had to do to kill you was tell you a crude joke while you were eating.¡± He swallowed, then laughed again. ¡°That might be the case.¡± ¡°Very well then. Armed with this information on your weakness, I should probably add that any Gaian companions should take top.¡± He cleared his throat, mumbled something, then said, ¡°That¡¯s not the only method, Solin. You¡¯d know that if you took your nose out of books more often.¡± ¡°Oh, you¡¯d be surprised at what books contain. Gaian literature in particular has some interesting uses for telekinesis, ones that would make even a Wraithstone blush.¡± ¡°Oh, I highly doubt that.¡± ¡°Oh no, my dear Jemier, books would be quite useful to someone as prudish as yourself.¡± I smirked, raising my glass to my lips. ¡°Even bookshelves have their purpose. They can be quite sturdy when they need to be.¡± Jemier let out a congratulatory laugh and patted me on the back far too hard. I choked on my juice. When I finished hacking, and he finished apologizing, I glared at him. ¡°Could you make an effort to remember that I¡¯m human¡ªGaian!¡ªnow?¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry. And are we using ¡®Gaian¡¯ or ¡®human¡¯ now?¡± ¡°By the Scales, Jemier!¡± ¡°Sorry!¡± He spun in his stool, his foot knocking against mine, once again disrupting my stability. ¡°Sorry!¡± ¡°I understood that the first time you said it.¡± ¡°I promise to be gentler when I touch you.¡± ¡°Please do.¡± ¡°How very forward of you, Solin.¡± I brought my hand to my face. ¡°These jokes between us have suddenly taken on a whole new meaning, haven¡¯t they?¡± ¡°I was thinking the same thing.¡± He chuckled. I poked my food. ¡°What does your king think of this anyway? Karrdil would never allow you on Cydrithenna again if he discovered you wanted to consort with me this way.¡± ¡°He doesn¡¯t know, and he¡¯d have no right to do anything about it anyway.¡± ¡°He is the king, I am an enemy of Cydrithenna, you are his heir, and we are both men. It would be a violation of Drakon law.¡± I shook my head. ¡°Actually, never mind. I just want to eat without choking, falling, or getting injured.¡± ¡°As would I.¡± Our forks clinked against our plates. We ate for several minutes in a conversational silence that I welcomed. My gaze drifted to him. ¡°Do you remember Jossavin?¡± ¡°I remember you hardly being around when you were seeing her,¡± Jemier said. ¡°Karrdil ended that. Not us.¡± ¡°Her family are from the guardship, aren¡¯t they?¡± ¡°And he said as much. About the dynamic of power between us. That when I came of age to become a senator, things between us would shift.¡± ¡°She might¡¯ve exploited you for your power.¡± ¡°Or, more realistically, I might¡¯ve exploited my power to make her compromise herself. Even on accident.¡± ¡°One of his lessons?¡± ¡°One of the few good ones.¡± I poked at the last chunk of egg on my plate. ¡°One he rarely heeds himself. Don¡¯t go out of your way to question him. Don¡¯t even joke about it. He thinks he has a right to do whatever he wants. Remember that. Because you won¡¯t change his mind by defying that perspective.¡± ¡°But he has no right in matters of the heart.¡± ¡°He¡¯s not betrothed you to anyone?¡± ¡°Well he has talked about it, but¡ª¡± I set down my fork. ¡°Who?¡± ¡°Safryne.¡± Not the Scaleborn I expected. ¡°Not Corian?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°When is the wedding?¡± ¡°The betrothal is not even set yet. It¡¯s been frivolously discussed.¡± ¡°What do the sisters say of this?¡± ¡°Corian doesn¡¯t care. She and I¡­aren¡¯t well matched.¡± Interesting. ¡°You finally tried?¡± ¡°And it didn¡¯t work. Instantly. Safryne isn¡¯t pleased either. She¡¯s hung up on Eleric.¡± ¡°Eleric.¡± I snatched my fork and shoved the last bite of egg into my mouth. ¡°He¡¯s different lately.¡± No shit. ¡°Perhaps upset about Safryne,¡± I said. I had no more of anything to shove into my mouth. He shrugged. ¡°Maybe you¡¯re right.¡± ¡°I am.¡± I stood and cleared our dishes from the island. ¡°It¡¯s not official yet anyway.¡± ¡°So don¡¯t worry about it until it is.¡± I set the dishes in the sink and absentmindedly turned on the faucet. My hand stung. I cursed beneath my breath. ¡°Could you take care of these, please? I have to work at the kitchen soon. Evening shift.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be here,¡± he said. I took him at his word. Chapter 16 22953 YD (1662 CE) The North Mountains, Cydrithenna
After the camp feasted, courtesy of our Storm Giant allies, we turned in for the night, the sober amongst us even making it back to our tents without assistance. As a prince, I had a tent to myself, a blessing on nights like this when everyone thought recuperating meant soaking in alcohol. By the light of a small lamp, I studied a tome of magick, lying in a bed too oversized for my need. An icy breeze swept across the pages of my book, chilling my hands and flipping too many pages over. The faint scent of woodsmoke, coming from the personal heating stove in the center of the tent, rushed out with the warmth. I covered the tome with a pillow to save my place, and I sat up to retrieve another fur from the end of the bed. Downcast, Eleric peered at me from the open flap of my tent. ¡°Eleric? What is it? And could you please not let the warm air out?¡± Eleric nodded and stepped inside. Lightweight leather armor covered his clothing, but his shoulders were absent his cloak. ¡°Sorry. I wish we were allowed to bring proper heaters to these things. How could theybe a violation of Federation law?¡± ¡°Because warm troops do well,¡± I said, from beneath layers of furs. ¡°Our technology would give us an unfair advantage, even with the smallest of disputes. It¡¯s one of the few Drakon laws that I¡¯m proud were adopted by the Federation.¡± ¡°I know, but couldn¡¯t the First King have made an exception for heat?¡± ¡°The First King was a Vivifyal. Of course he was stubborn.¡± ¡°And probably the only Vivifyal you¡¯ve ever agreed with.¡± ¡°And posthumously, at that.¡± We shared a short-lived, quiet laugh. ¡°I don¡¯t mean to complain,¡± said Eleric. ¡°I know it¡¯s the only way our kind can pay penance for what our ancestors did.¡± ¡°Shh,¡± I quipped. ¡°Don¡¯t let the others hear you. They might be offended by your ability to see the gray in our history.¡± He smiled broadly, looking beyond the tent walls as though someone might hear that smile turn to laughter. I gave him a mischievous grin and nearly forgot that he had arrived with a far more melancholic countenance. ¡°Why are you here, Eleric?¡± ¡°He¡¯s¡­down for the night,¡± he said, and I knew he spoke of Varin from the dart of his eyes to the rumble in his voice. ¡°And he took Renny and Jemier down with him, though he¡¯s got the most to sleep off.¡± ¡°Wonderful,¡± I remarked, unhappy with the thought of dealing with three hungover comrades in the morning. ¡°And the other problem?¡± ¡°There is no other problem.¡± ¡°Come, Eleric, there must be another problem.¡± I masked, becoming him and mirroring his current disposition. In his voice, I said, ¡°You look awfully dreadful for you. What else has my incredible brother done?¡± Eleric sighed. ¡°Please stop.¡± I let go of the mask. ¡°Sorry.¡± ¡°Renny decided they should celebrate in our tent, not Jemier¡¯s or Varin¡¯s. Renny¡¯s passed out on the ground next to his bed. Jemier is literally under a table. And Varin¡­he¡¯s in my bed. With my furs.¡± ¡°Where¡¯s Corian?¡± ¡°Apparently, Varin got drunk with that general and was too far gone for her to challenge with honor, so she wisely ditched them to play cards with some of the Storm Giants.¡± ¡°And when we parted, you found no one else to spend your night with? Must be strange for you not to have a warm bed at night.¡± ¡°Solin, I am not in the mood for this. Your brother, he said things¡­¡± He turned away from me. ¡°Forget it. Good night, Solin.¡± ¡°Wait.¡± I shook my head and got out of bed. The cold latched onto my skin, despite the thick shirt and pants I wore. ¡°That was wrong of me. You came here to talk, and I¡¯m being crass while you freeze to death.¡± ¡°It¡¯s fine. I don¡¯t want to impose.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not imposing. We made a pact, remember? To hell with them.¡± I motioned to a storage chest close to him; I¡¯d set my cloak atop it when I returned earlier. My magick pinched at the garment, sucking the fleecy pool of fur-lined black into the air. ¡°At least take this.¡± ¡°Take what?¡± I nodded at my cloak, which billowed and swayed toward him like a ghost on stilts. ¡°You need to grab it from the air; I¡¯m not very good at this¡ª!¡± Eleric uttered an ¡°oomph!¡± as the cloak careened into him and flung itself over his head. I cringed. ¡°Sorry.¡± At least it had flown into Eleric and not the central stove. He swam out of the cloak, plucking hairs and bits of its fur lining from his lips. Once he was free of it, he did not put it on, but instead appraised it. ¡°Is it good enough for a man of House Foundry?¡± I asked. ¡°I can¡¯t take this; it¡¯s too nice.¡± I brought my novice telekinesis skills to the top fur covering my bed; the swathe of brown hovered threateningly. ¡°Don¡¯t make me give you this,¡± I grinned. He shook his head. ¡°No thank you. The cloak will do just fine.¡± With an elegant swoosh, he draped the cloak around his stable shoulders. ¡°When do you even get to train all of your magick, anyway?¡± ¡°Every moment I get,¡± I said. ¡°Only telekinesis hasn¡¯t gotten that message yet.¡± ¡°But your illusions are masterful,¡± he said. ¡°Thank you.¡± ¡°Although incomplete.¡± ¡°Pardon?¡± He winked at me, and I gave him a quick roll of my eyes before sitting atop the bed, pulling the now-relaxed fur over my cold feet. ¡°What would you suggest I do differently, oh Eleric, master mage of House Foundry?¡± ¡°Do you really want to know?¡± He and I had never spoken about magick before, partially because he hadn¡¯t a fiber of magick sewn into his being, and partially because he and I had only recently become reacquainted as maybe-friends. ¡°Well, sometimes, I¡ª¡± His eyes flitted to my side. ¡°May I?¡± I shrugged, nonchalant. ¡°Of course you can.¡± He sat down. I passed him one of the many furs I¡¯d been previously buried beneath. It did not curb the frequency of white clouds he exhaled, but at least he wasn¡¯t shivering so much. ¡°You know books?¡± I snorted. ¡°Yes, I know books, Eleric.¡± ¡°Well, you know how some writers give you every detail, engage every sense?¡± ¡°Sometimes at great detriment to the pacing or dialogue¡ªwait, why are you discussing literature with me? Since when do you read?¡± He looked aghast. ¡°I beg your pardon, Your Highness, but I do read. The library is one of my favorite places.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve never seen you there, not alone anyway.¡± ¡°I go to the room? Near the back?¡± I tilted my head at him. ¡°Really?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°My mistake. Go on.¡± ¡°Is that something you could do with your illusions? It will make them seem more real.¡± ¡°I already go to the library, Eleric. Why do you think I go there if not to study?¡± ¡°No, I mean engage every sense.¡± Oh. ¡°I¡¯ve tried. It¡¯s not easy. I have no way of knowing if it¡¯s working.¡± ¡°You have no master to give you feedback?¡± ¡°Not for this.¡± I angled my head at him, bewildered. ¡°Didn¡¯t you know that?¡± He shook his head slowly. ¡°I¡­no, I suppose I didn¡¯t.¡± He looked about the tent, then back at me. ¡°Before we came to this place, did we ever spend time together? Without everyone else?¡± ¡°No. Probably not since we were kids.¡± We hadn¡¯t. I had made sure of it. Jemier was the only one of the lot I¡¯d trusted lately. ¡°Odd how that worked out because it feels like we¡¯ve known each other forever.¡± ¡°You are surprisingly easy to talk to,¡± I said, withholding my saucy remark on the centuries we¡¯d been acquainted. ¡°So are you.¡± His eyes flitted away, and when he noticed I¡¯d caught his winsome smile, he focused on his hands. Were it not so cold already, I¡¯d swear he were blushing. ¡°Do you need help with your magick, then?¡± Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°Like someone who can tell you what works and what doesn¡¯t.¡± ¡°I¡ª¡± I¡¯d been on this journey alone since mastering illusion. Quezhan¨¦ had long run out of magick she could teach me. She¡¯d become a mentor who occasionally tested me, but those moments were fewer and fewer lately, especially since Karrdil kept sending me along on these quellings. ¡°Actually, would you mind? There¡¯s something I¡¯ve been working on.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s see it.¡± I raised my brows at him. ¡°Are you sure? You¡¯re not tired?¡± ¡°Weren¡¯t you the one trying to sleep when I interrupted you?¡± I grinned, shaking my head. I stretched across the bed, losing the fur, until I could reach the open book resting beneath my pillow. ¡°I might¡¯ve been reading this instead.¡± After Eleric passed me my lost fur, I plopped the book between us. He beamed and studied the open pages, asking with his eyes if he could leaf through them. I granted him permission. ¡°This is definitely not the kind of book I tend to read,¡± he said. ¡°What kind of books do you read?¡± He gave me a devilish smirk. ¡°I¡¯m not telling.¡± ¡°Oh, you are dastardly.¡± I held my smirk until his gaze broke, then said, ¡°Make a bowl with your hands.¡± He wrapped his hands in the edges of the cloak first. ¡°All right.¡± An apple appeared in the furry bowl. ¡°I don¡¯t feel anything,¡± he said. ¡°Right, so now¡ª¡± I checked the book to be sure of the next step. The technique just didn¡¯t make sense to me, but I tried it anyway. ¡°Do you feel any¡ªwhat?¡± He snorted staccato. ¡°It¡¯s like I¡¯m being tickled by a puppy¡¯s nose.¡± I gaped at him, horrified. I dropped the illusion. ¡°In your hands, right?¡± ¡°Yes, in my hands.¡± I sighed in relief. ¡°That is not what¡¯s supposed to happen.¡± ¡°Are you using telekinesis?¡± I gave him an incredulous look. ¡°Are you just aching to have a hook for a hand, or¡ª?¡± He burst into laughter, then covered his mouth. ¡°The puppy nose?¡± I asked. ¡°No,¡± he said. ¡°You. You¡¯re really funny, Solin.¡± ¡°I try.¡± When we both settled down a bit, I said, ¡°But did any of that work?¡± ¡°I saw an apple.¡± ¡°But you didn¡¯t feel it? Not the texture, the weight?¡± He shook his head. ¡°Your other senses? Nothing? Couldn¡¯t hear it?¡± ¡°Could I hear the apple?¡± I rolled my eyes. ¡°Fair enough. What about the smell?¡± ¡°All I can smell is you.¡± ¡°Sorry?¡± He blinked at me. ¡°Your cloak. It¡¯s nice; I¡¯m not complaining.¡± Heat rushed up my neck and landed on my cheeks. ¡°Oh.¡± I met his eyes. ¡°It suits you.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± He pinched the cloak and rolled the fur lining between his fingers. ¡°Actually, that¡¯s brilliant, Solin. Here. Feel this.¡± ¡°My cloak?¡± I took the proffered hunk he handed to me. ¡°What am I feeling for?¡± ¡°Close your eyes. Think about what you¡¯re feeling.¡± I closed my eyes but refused to think about the latter. ¡°Tiny bristles of hair.¡± ¡°You must feel more than that.¡± ¡°I do; hold on.¡± I played with the fur, then moved my fingers to the heavy woolen fabric of the interior. ¡°Scratchy.¡± ¡°Everyone knows that.¡± ¡°Ooh, you¡¯re a tough master, aren¡¯t you?¡± ¡°I try.¡± ¡°Scratchy in a wool-like way.¡± I opened one eye to see his deadpan gaze. Footfalls outside drew our attention. Eleric pricked and stilled. ¡°It¡¯s the Elite Guard,¡± I whispered. His shoulders relaxed. ¡°Did you want to stay here tonight? I can retire to Jemier¡¯s tent since he¡¯s not there.¡± ¡°There¡¯s no need.¡± I offered him the ample space in my unnecessarily regal bed. ¡°Do you really think I need all of this?¡± ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter if you need it.¡± ¡°But it matters if you do.¡± I closed the book. ¡°Did Varin threaten you?¡± ¡°More than normal, you mean?¡± ¡°Enough to make you jump at sounds and come to my tent, of all places.¡± He shook his head. ¡°No, he didn¡¯t do anything worse than usual. I just¡­did he have to colonize my space while doing it? It just makes me feel¡­strange¡­and I don¡¯t really know anyone else here to talk to and get my mind off it.¡± ¡°That¡¯s all?¡± He nodded. ¡°That¡¯s all, I promise. You don¡¯t have to worry about me.¡± ¡°Good, because I was starting to, and the next thing you know, the world will be upside down, and I¡¯ll be buying Renny drinks at the Wily Boar.¡± Eleric snorted, then flattened his smile. ¡°I like this, Solin. Right now.¡± I gazed at him. ¡°I like this too.¡± ¡°You do?¡± I nodded, my pulse quickening. I drew in a deep breath. ¡°We should get some rest, especially considering what we¡¯ll be dealing with in the morning.¡± He cleared his throat. ¡°Right, of course. Wouldn¡¯t want to cross a rancorous Varin after a poor night¡¯s sleep.¡± ¡°Or a still-drunk Wraithstone.¡± ¡°The last thing we need for breakfast is a slew of asinine dares.¡± ¡°You mean you don¡¯t want to streak through the camp wearing nothing but a pair of boots just to prove your member¡¯s invincible to frostbite?¡± ¡°Oh, so you were at the last party then?¡± Eleric winked. I laughed. He stood from my bed, straightening the cloak. ¡°Thank you for letting me borrow this.¡± ¡°You¡¯re welcome.¡± We looked at each other, then looked away, and when I stole a glance at him in my cloak again¡ªdamn, it suited him¡ªI said, ¡°Actually, if you wanted¡ª¡± ¡°I might take you up on that¡ª¡± We both paused, then laughed. ¡°You first,¡± I said. ¡°I was just thinking that I would take you up on that offer to stay, and I wouldn¡¯t be bothered if you didn¡¯t disappear to another tent.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t have to disappear if you don¡¯t want me to.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t.¡± ¡°All right.¡± I made space for him to join me. He pulled off my cloak with great care, refolding it and placing it where it once lay. He took off his boots and belt and removed what leather he wore. He sat down, giving me a tentative look before sinking beneath the blankets and furs and resting his head on one of my many pillows. ¡°Thank you for your hospitality,¡± he said. The stove light glowed bright, casting orange light upon the curves of his face and turning his hair into a translucent amber. ¡°I am capable of being hospitable from time to time. Especially when someone resolves to mock Varin and that oaf Renny with me. Consider this as a thank-you for the entertainment.¡± His laugh came out like a whisper amidst the silence that had fallen over the camp. Only the footfalls of sentries sounded. ¡°I want to thank you, Solin.¡± ¡°You just thanked me.¡± ¡°No, for earlier. For the talk, hell, for not making me eat a bear¡¯s face.¡± ¡°I was the one thanking you.¡± He propped himself up on his elbow. ¡°I mean it, Solin. Thank you.¡± ¡°You¡¯re welcome.¡± Silence returned, but what would the quiet bring us if it sat too still for too long? Then again, what would silence tell Eleric about his Varin problem? The balance of power had shifted between them, and Eleric rightfully worried that this painted a target on his back. I suspected one already existed, and that every day it became clearer and more visually striking. ¡°Apologize tomorrow. Say you were battle weary and then promise to share a drink with him when we get back to Heartwing. Take Jemier with you.¡± He shivered. ¡°Will that be enough?¡± ¡°Are you still cold? And yes, it will be.¡± ¡°I¡¯m adjusting to the cold.¡± ¡°Would you like¡ª¡± ¡°Would it be weird if¡ª¡± We paused and chuckled softly. I gazed at him. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be weird, Eleric.¡± I sat up, rearranging the furs to be more efficient at warming two, and he sidled in beside me. In his hair, I smelled the intangible comfort of closeness, and I lay on my back, stilling myself so that he would not hear the sudden reaction of my heart. We lay with his head on my shoulder and his hand on my arm. Rustling pines, footsteps, and someone¡¯s coughing fit broke the night¡¯s tranquility, but with him, I became more attune. I heard every whisper of air through his lungs, his mouth, his nose. I knew how much space every breath demanded of his ribs, how soft-weighted his body was in this mattress, how the thin wisps of hair escaping his tie ran along the curve of my neck and tickled every nerve. ¡°What if he were to see us now?¡± he asked. ¡°We are sleeping, Eleric.¡± I closed my eyes, shifting focus away from this scent-based heatwave of a revelation and toward the realm of magick. Illusions clung to us and every surface in the tent. ¡°He will not catch us. We are masked. I have not mastered how to mask sounds yet, so be mindful of that, but my magick should last all night, even while sleeping.¡± He lifted his head from my shoulder. ¡°You can fall asleep, and your magick will still work?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°You have¡­become powerful, Solin.¡± I tilted my head his way, lifting only one brow. ¡°According to you, that¡¯s not the case.¡± ¡°We can work on that,¡± he smirked, patting my chest. ¡°I look forward to it.¡± I placed my hand atop his. ¡°You really are freezing, aren¡¯t you?¡± He curled his thumb around mine and nestled closer. ¡°Not for long.¡± ¡°No, not for long.¡± We pulled each other closer until no gaps remained between us. Heat ran along the length of my body, and my chest ached with every breath of his scent. ¡°Not all in Heartwing are as simpleminded as him.¡± ¡°With regard to¡­?¡± ¡°Everything, and¡­this. Someday I¡¯ll have a chance to change how this is perceived. I hope.¡± ¡°You¡¯d try?¡± ¡°It makes both economic and social sense. Plus, I also have a conscience. It¡¯s true. Felwings come with those occasionally too.¡± We shared quiet snickers. He flattened his palm on my chest. ¡°I can feel your heart, Solin. I can hear it.¡± I massaged his hand with my thumb. ¡°What does it feel like?¡± He sat up now, the furs a cloak draped over his shoulders. He took my hand and placed it on his heart. ¡°What does it feel like?¡± I smiled and closed my eyes, listening with my fingers. ¡°Like a drum.¡± ¡°Any drum?¡± ¡°A large drum.¡± His heart thrummed against my fingertips. ¡°It¡¯s the middle of the skin when its hit, but there¡¯s no mallet. Just the bouncing of it, rippling up and down like a puddle in the rain.¡± He leaned down, but my hand didn¡¯t leave his heart. ¡°What else?¡± ¡°The warmth of life, supple skin beneath soft cloth¡­¡± I opened my eyes and gazed at him, trailing my hand up his neck to rest along the curve of his prickly jaw. ¡°Eleric, tell me you didn¡¯t come here tonight for this.¡± He shook his head. ¡°No, I came here for protection.¡± ¡°You have it. Unconditionally, you have it.¡± I traced his chin. He kissed the heel of my palm, and then I kissed his lips. ¡°We are still masked?¡± he clarified. ¡°Yes,¡± I said between kisses. ¡°But not for sound.¡± ¡°Not for sound.¡± We shared another small chuckle, nose to nose, and kissed. And kissed again. And kissed until our clothes were half off because it was too cold for us to tread further, but I took in his scent¡ªfresh linen, dried in a warm spring breeze on a field of wildflowers¡ªand he took in mine, and we connected until we fell asleep in each other¡¯s arms. * I awoke to the comfort of floral linen, and my stirring caused Eleric to stir from sleep as well. He gazed dreamily at me, and a smile spread across his face before he kissed my cheek. ¡°Good morning,¡± he whispered into my neck. ¡°You smell incredible.¡± A shout from the vicinity of Varin¡¯s tent stilled us. I sat up, shielding him from the flap of the tent, and checked my illusion. ¡°We are safe,¡± I whispered. ¡°But not with sound,¡± he whispered. ¡°Not with sound.¡± I patted his hand, signaling for him to dress. We avoided detection and made our morning appearances. I took breakfast with Jemier, Eleric, and Corian around the stove in Jemier¡¯s tent. Renny was still stuck on Varin duty. Varin was too drunk to come to breakfast. ¡°I hate everything,¡± Jemier complained, struggling to eat the morning¡¯s greasy meat. ¡°Maybe you shouldn¡¯t drink with people like Varin,¡± said Corian. ¡°Listen to her, Jemier,¡± I said. ¡°She speaks the truth.¡± ¡°Must be why she bailed on us.¡± ¡°He was already drunk. So not worth it.¡± ¡°It was worth it,¡± he said. His nostrils flared as he brought a bite of food to his mouth. ¡°Was it, now?¡± ¡°He wasn¡¯t joking. The drunker he got, the more hell-bent he got about those Frost Giants, so yes, it was worth it. Now please be quiet.¡± Corian huffed and stabbed a piece of meat with a fork. ¡°So your solution was to nearly poison him.¡± She waved the oily hunk in front of his nose before huffing again and shoving it into her mouth. He groaned and grimaced. ¡°A solid punch to the face does the same thing.¡± ¡°I agree with Corian,¡± I said. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t be putting your leader at risk. There are better ways to calm his urges.¡± ¡°Renny and I were too disgusted and pissed off to care about that.¡± ¡°As you should¡¯ve been,¡± added Corian. ¡°I¡¯m not saying I disagree with your motive or the tactics.¡± I took a tray from a very enthusiastic battle attendant and poured two glasses of water. ¡°I merely want it on the record that I¡¯ve berated Jemier for endangering the crown prince.¡± I passed Jemier a glass and gave the other to Eleric. Corian looked at me with raised brows. I feigned that I¡¯d only wanted to do two at a time and poured us each a glass too. ¡°You are lucky his own anger did not reveal itself to the whims of alcohol. For that matter, that yours didn¡¯t.¡± Jemier looked at the water with disdain. ¡°Am I supposed to drink this?¡± ¡°It is quite literally going to help you feel less like death. Yes, drink it. Drink mine too. You deserve it after a night of protecting the world from Varin.¡± ¡°And mine,¡± said Eleric, passing his water along. Corian shook her head and sipped hers. ¡°I¡¯m not going into battle dehydrated.¡± ¡°I hate all of you,¡± whined Jemier before groaning into a glass of water. He eventually swallowed. ¡°Sorry about your bed, Eleric. Where did you end up for the night?¡± ¡°Your tent,¡± he said. ¡°Someone had to use it. Don¡¯t worry, I barely touched anything. It¡¯s like I was never there.¡± Oh, he was good. Jemier took another, more successful sip of water. ¡°I¡¯m glad you didn¡¯t freeze to death.¡± Jemier recovered enough for the day¡¯s battle, picking up after Varin¡¯s messes on the battlefield. Eleric was stunning, gloriously defeating his enemies with swift, fatal strokes, delivering mercy where mercy was wanted. We won the battle, disabling the town, and Varin never made good on his hideous threats. That night, Eleric retreated to my tent, and we met beneath the furs again.