Elespeth listened to to his account of his own misadventures; to what he had suffered, in her absence, in tandem to how she had suffered in his. Madness… that was certainly something with which she could empathize. He had been kept up at night by the pain in his arm; conversely, she had been kept up by the pain in her heart, and the turmoil in her mind, brought on by the recurring nightmares that refused to let her rest. “When you tried to break our connection… when you were afraid of what I would discover, with your link to the Serpent, I think I almost broke down.” She confessed, feeling embarrassed and ashamed, but he deserved to know the truth. “You were my only connection to any source of hope. And when that was gone, for a moment in time, I didn’t know how to go on. It was Lysander, of all people, who suggested I use the sword you enchanted for me to try and re-establish that connection. So I used it to reach out to you… it was a connection to your magic, and I figured it was my only hope that I would find you, again.”
She didn’t want to break contact with him. Even as he slid out of her reach, she was too eager to lean forward and to pull him back. Elespeth remembered the feeling of being severed from him; how cold and hopeless she had felt without something, the existence of someone she loved, to cling to. Atvany was gone to her; her brother was gone, and it wasn’t safe for her to seek out her other siblings. Alster was all that she had left; without him, she was truly alone. “Make me a promise. Right now.” She took his prosthetic hand in her own, turning his palm upright to bear the scratch on it that resembled the scar on her palm. “One as strong as our blood oath. I want you to promise that you’ll never distance yourself from me, ever again. Whatever happens, I want us to face it together. Because if I am forced to face any more of what unfolds alone… I don’t think I will be able to bear it.” Her smile couldn’t quite reach her eyes. “Whether it means dealing with Chara or facing off Mollengard. I don’t want to go about any of it, alone.”
Pressing a hand to his chest, she added, more softly, “This is your true nature. What is in here. The selfless man who would give anything to help another soul. You are still you, Alster--I see it in your eyes. Whatever occurred when you bound yourself to the Serpent, you did not lose all that you think you did. In fact,” the smile softened, looked more genuine. “Perhaps you did not lose anything at all. Perhaps something else is there, that wasn’t there before, but you are no less for it. You are still my Alster… isn’t that what truly matters?”
And it was just like her Alster to go and buy her something frivolous yet inherently meaningful, in his absence. Just like him to try and find a way to make it up to her, knowing he had caused her pain. This was one of the many reasons she found it so difficult to stay angry with him: he knew how to sweet-talk her, to find a way around those feelings of resentment. And she couldn’t even be annoyed with him for it. Not when she had spent all this time longing to see his face, to hold him again, to feel his skin close to her own. With or without a tiara (which had probably cost him more than she was comfortable with him spending, for her sake), she realized that not forgiving him was an impossible task. She wasn’t sure if the regal headpiece suited her, despite that it for her brow perfectly, but it had been chosen by the man she loved. Wearing it to their wedding made it nothing less of a symbol of their union. Not that she would openly admit it, but she couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy toward Vega and Haraldur. Having the time and the luxury to marry, even if it had been impromptu and informal… they were joined, now, united as a pair.
She couldn’t wait for the day that she and Alster would feel that same joy.
“I guess it is going to be difficult to convince people that I am deserving of you,” the Atvanian warrior admitted, feeling like a different person in the mirror with the glittering headpiece drawing attention to her. “The least I can do is look like I can play the part; be a Rigas. If wearing a tiara to my wedding is what it takes for people to realize I take the role seriously… well, then I suppose I can admit, it doesn’t look half bad.”
She let Alster take the precious piece of jewelry and place it back in the box for safe-keeping, feeling far more at ease that she wasn’t at risk of damaging it, now that it was beyond her reach. The intensity in his eyes, in his voice when he insisted that Chara would not be a problem, because he would make it so… that was when she noticed it. A gleam to his eyes that struck her as unfamiliar. For a moment, it was not the self-deprecating, complacent, at best compromising Alster Rigas that she expected. Whether or not it was the influence of the Serpent, or just the matter of self-growth he’d undergone, it seemed that he no longer responded to adversity with a sense of defeat. Rather, he challenged it, took it head on with the expectation that he would emerge victorious. He might hold power over Chara, to an extent; perhaps he always had. But this was the first time she had ever heard him address it, with a sense of certainty and self-importance.
And, she had to say… it rather suited him.
Wrapped in Alster’s embrace, with her urgent lips on his own, Elespeth gladly fell back against the soft bed sheets that hadn’t touched her skin in what felt like so long. The familiar feeling of his hot breath on her neck drew a sigh from her lungs. “Forget the clothes; I’m not sure I need them anymore,” she murmured, her voice as sultry as the smoky green of her eyes. Reaching up, she pushed the shoulders of his tunic down over his arms, fingers roving hungrily over his bare chest. “I wasn’t sure I needed this… until you took your shirt off.”
She helped him shrug the tunic off of his body, already aching to get out of her own, to feel his hands peel it off of her, when his completely unexpected confession made her pause. “You… what?”
That hand roving his chest pushed up, putting distance between them, enough for her to search his face for some meaning. “I think you’d better explain,” Elespeth said, her voice testing the borders between calm and angry, “before we lose this moment entirely.”
Of course it wasn’t how he made it sound; how could she possibly think it would be? There he was, once again, the Alster that she came to know and love. One that blustered his words and turned red in the face for it, all the while knowing just how to explain himself. She couldn’t help herself: Elespeth laughed, feeling foolish for ever thinking, for even a second, that he had a conscience that would allow him to sleep with another woman while he was away from his own fiancee. Even in the nuanced differences she detected in his personality, that was not one of them. “Well, what a way to put it,” she rolled her eyes. “It’s fine, Alster. I believe you to be capable of a great many things, but infidelity is not one of them. Although I might suggest a more tactful approach to telling your fiancee that you healed someone’s reproductive organs.”
When her chuckled subsided, she relaxed her hand, where it then traveled to his face. “You’re right, though; there is something different about you. Although…” Her eyes traveled from his face, down his body, and back again. “I don’t think it is something you should worry about. Not in this instance, anyway. I’d say… I’m pleasantly surprised.”
The corner of her lips curled into a sultry smirk, as she ran her free hand over his shoulder, and down along his prosthetic arm, its weight pushing her against the sheets. “A few months ago, you wouldn’t have been on top,” she pointed out, arching an eyebrow. “Not that I mind either way, but you’ve really come into yourself. You stand your ground; you take initiative… I daresay, I like this newfound confidence. Something about it is… undeniably alluring.”
Contrary to her previous thoughts, there was no possible way this moment could be lost to them, not with the demand of their congruent needs. Slipping a hand behind his neck, Elespeth shivered at that familiar feeling of electricity between them as she tugged on the front weave of her own tunic, loosening the ties so that it would fall away more easily. “I don’t feel like I want to sleep tonight…” She murmured, the breath already stolen from her lungs from his mere proximity. “I want you to awaken my senses--all of my senses--instead.”
It did not seem to bode well for the Dawn warrior when she found Chara near the dungeons, having a rather heated conversation with one of her guards. A familiar face, in fact: it was the guard she had seen not even an hour ago, locking lips and limbs with the wolf man. She hadn’t intended to say anything to the Rigas head about him, but it didn’t seem to have mattered. Chara Rigas was not impressed that he had left his post, and dismissed him without further warning. As Antares walked away, head hanging in shame, she tried to catch his eye. As a result, he gave her a wide berth, and did not look back.
She couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for him, having been in that situation, herself… or, one like it. The shame, the dampened spirit… part of her wanted to reach out to him, but what did she have to offer? It isn’t as though I’ve been successful or happy, being as I am. But she would keep his secret, if only because were the situations reversed, she would want him to keep hers.
“Lady Chara,” she approached the frustrated woman, her shoulders slumped in defeat. “I must offer my apologies. I found the man in question, but I did not manage to apprehend him…” Uncomfortable in her almost immediate failure being her first experience in Stella D’Mare, she scratched the back of her neck. “I did heed your advice, though. I knew he would tap into my fears or discomforts, and he did; I expected it. What I didn’t expect was that he would… unabashedly disrobe.” And then shift into a wolf, she thought, but honestly, that hadn’t startled her as much as a man who wasn’t one of her brothers casually getting naked in front of her.
What Sigrid was even less prepared for, however, was Chara’s ire. She all but flinched when the Rigas head tossed a stone at the dungeon walls, unraveling like an old washrag out of anger toward the shapeshifter who had eluded her. The Dawn warrior watched those licks of flame between her fingers in her fist. Vega Sorde was benign compared to this woman…
“I am happy to continue searching for him when there is daylight,” she offered casually, as she followed Chara to her chambers. After a good night’s rest, she would be a far keener hunter. She noticed her own footfalls were growing sluggish by the time she arrived at the door, where Chara proceeded to hand her a key--followed by an unexpected question. Sigrid felt her shoulders tense.
“It is called Gaolithe,” she explained, the monotone of her voice in no way suggesting that this was a topic she wanted to discuss. “It can only be touched by the hands of its wielder. It guarantees death to all else who come into contact with it. One of my brothers fell before it; and then, somehow, it chose me. I don’t know why, and I don’t particularly want it, but I am stuck with it. Although…”
Turning to Chara, something fierce shone in her eyes. “I would wield it against Solveig. Haraldur is my cousin; it is because of people like her that he suffered. And I would not hesitate to kill her. So count me in.”
She never thought the day would come when she would willingly wield Gaolithe, but there it was. Perhaps this was the reason it had chosen her; the reason she was stuck with it. Maybe, after all was said and done, she could return it to Braighdath, and have nothing more to do with it. That part of the plan, she had no qualms against participating in. But for Chara’s last request…
“You want… me to find him and talk to him?” Sigrid raised her eyebrows in obvious confusion. “I mean, if it would help, then I will do so, but I don’t exactly have much to offer as a stranger. Of course… if you feel everyone else has alienated him, maybe it takes a stranger to be successful in this sort of endeavor.”
If for no other reason than she didn’t want to be on this dangerous woman’s bad side, Sigrid agreed to it all, regardless of whether or not she would end up regretting it in the long run. “I’ll see what I can do about the shape-shifter, but I cannot make any guarantees. If he is fond of the young summoner, then it might be wise to involve her, as well.”
Bidding the Rigas head goodnight, Sigrid stepped into her shared chambers, finding Haraldur sitting up, still awake. “I have no idea what I just agreed to… but that fierce, blonde woman has a way of being convincing.” Shaking her head, she wandered over to her bed and collapsed on the mattress. “If you have any advice on catching sly shape-shifters with fearsight, it would be much appreciated.”
He remembered making the same promise to her, not so long ago; obviously, he fell short in maintaining the promise, but not without good reason. At least, he thought them to be good reasons. I’m sick of making her worry. My problems cause her too much harm. I’m tired of hurting her. If I tell her, will she truly understand? Could anyone understand the shift that I’m undergoing?
Elespeth was no more eager to wake up than Alster, that morning. She had never experienced love-making quite like she had the night before, with that new, curious sting of Alster’s assertion. He was as relentless as she was; and in the aftermath, they had left tiny bruises and love bites on various parts of one another’s bodies, so lost had they been in the zeal of their reunion. But it had left them limp and weak in the early hours of the morning, when they had collapsed in one another’s arms. She was reluctant to stir, even when he placed a kiss upon her brow.
“Too early…” She murmured, hugging a pillow to her otherwise bare chest. “Go back to sleep…”
That was when heavy rapping on the door startled the both of them into wakefulness. Sighing, she did not hold back a groan. “Of course it is Chara.” She mumbled, reaching over the bed for her clothes. “Probably payback for keeping her up… we weren’t exactly discreet. Next time, maybe you can cast a silencing spell over the room… for everyone else’s benefit.”
Just as she secured her belt around her waist to ensure her decency, Alster answered the door. As she’d expected, their night-long intimacy had kept up everyone else within the suite, and Elespeth found herself unable to look at Chara for the mild sense of guilt she felt for it. Not simply because she had interrupted her sleep, but because while she had been happily making love to Alster, Chara was still desperately missing Lilica. It was hard to be happy for others when one felt so miserable, themself.
The former knight released a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding when Alster closed the door. “I’d say at best she tolerated my presence. But let’s not press our luck, too much. Either we both have to learn to be quiet, remember to silence this room with a spell, or take our love-making elsewhere.” She grinned a little and collapsed back on the bed. “Go and talk to Teselin, for the love of everything. That girl needs a voice of reason, after listening to Chara and Hadwin for weeks… I guarantee, I’ll still be here when you’re done.”
Teselin eagerly awaited Alster’s company, waiting on the ornate sofa as she picked at one of the cushions out of a nervous habit. This man with the metal arm, this hero, was yet another stranger. She only knew of him through Chara and Elespeth’s anecdotes, but when she’d met him late last night, she’d sensed it: the immense power that emanated from him like a heat wave. She’d felt the warmth before their hands ever met, and for a moment, it had almost frightened her to touch him. But that was the moment she knew that he was the one she needed to talk to. In the absence of her brother, he was perhaps the only one she could talk to.
When he turned the corner, she almost stood out of eagerness, but Alster sat down next to her and extended his uncanny metal hand. She didn’t stare, though. It wasn’t as shocking to her as it might have been to others. She closed her small hand around his and gave a weak shake. “That is a result of your magic, isn’t it?” It wasn’t a rude comment, or at least, she didn’t intend it to be. If anything, she was merely stating the obvious. “It took your arm… I’ve heard the others talk about it, from time to time. Did it hurt, when it happened? Or… did you look down, and realize that something was just suddenly... gone? Something you never thought you would lose?”
Dropping her own hand, the young summoner looked away and turned her own palms up, staring at them curiously. In lieu of answering his question about how she was faring, she simply stated, “You’d think that with my magic, I’d have disintegrated entirely by now. There shouldn’t be anything left of me. But… my magic doesn’t seem to work the same way, as yours. It’s doesn’t hurt me; it just hurts everyone else.”
It caught her attention when Alster mentioned her brother, and she looked up, her dark eyes suddenly hopeful. “He knows I’m here?” Why did that thought bring her comfort? Was it that he spared her a thought, at all, or simply that were anything to happen to her… her disappearance wouldn’t be a mystery to him? “And he… said that? Then he does remember…”
A small smile graced Teselin’s youthful features, turning her expression rather hopeful. “This might come as a surprise, given how much I respect my brother, but our relationship can be measured in hours. I only saw him periodically as a child, whenever myself and our mother happened to cross paths; he didn’t much give me the time of day, probably because he resented our mother. I was just another offspring that she would later fail in life, like my brothers. But there was once… I was young, and I had an awful nightmare of monsters stirred up from my wild imagination. Typical, for a child, I know, except that when I awoke… it was there. In my room.”
Teselin shuddered against the memory, remembering it all too vividly; and why wouldn’t she? After all, that was the moment that had changed her life forever. “I don’t know what would have come to pass, had Vitali not happened to be in the right place at the right time. I was paralyzed with fear--yet, he told me I was the only one who could make it go away. To this day, I don’t know how it happened, or how I managed to overcome it, but he helped me. He guided me, and he went away. And then he looked at me--really saw me, for the first time, and he said, ‘I’m sorry--it will only get worse’. And that was the last I saw of him. But I never forgot. Evidently, neither did he.”
It was nice, reassuring to have the ear of someone who at least partially understood. Someone who might be able to help her. Then again, she’d thought Hadwin could help her, as well… it was really up in the air, until they tried. “I don’t expect you to change my life, Alster. I’ll summon the tidal wave; I am not fearful for my own life, but I am for the lives of others. Help me find a way to manage this while sparing the lives of innocents; anything beyond that… I don’t believe is within your capability. Your magic feels… different from mine.” She met his eyes, as if she could see the power of the Serpent swimming in his blue orbs. “It is all inside of you. Something so much bigger than you, yet you’re able to contain it. But mine… it is everywhere. And I don’t know where it will come from, next. But Vitali… I think he is the key to understanding all of this. Because he and I… we’re the same.”
Despite that they were the only two within earshot, the young summoner lowered her voice, intending her words for Alster alone. “That night, when Vitali helped me vanquish the monster… I saw something, in him. A memory, clear as day, when he looked at me. I doubt he knows that I saw anything at all, and I don’t plan on telling him if I can help it, but I… I know what he came from. And what he had to overcome. And that is what gives me hope.” She smiled, though it was flat and humourless. “You don’t like him--it’s all right, nobody does, it seems. Perhaps you are right, not to. He has caused people pain. Maybe I am naive, but his sins don’t interest me. It is the other side of it that does.”
Teselin shifted closer to Alster, and turned her hands palm up as she searched his face imploringly. “Can I… show you something? I’m not sure it will work, but you seem to have the sort of magic that is receptive to it. It’s better to show you than to explain.”
With his permission, Teselin reached up and gently rested each of her hands on either side of Alster’s temples. She closed her eyes, and concentrated…
Alster suddenly found himself a ghostly onlooker of a curious scene. He was no longer surrounded by the finery of Chara’s suite, but in a small caravan, not unlike that which he’d visited when helping Briery Frealy. A woman and a young boy sat down to a plain meal at a table, eating in silence; or, at least the woman was. She had dark, wavy hair, half-tied back from her face, and piercing blue eyes, and was in every way the general definition of beautiful. The young man sitting across from her couldn’t have been more than ten years old, with dark hair like his mother. He looked thin and malnourished, and impossibly pale with dark circles beneath his dark, red-rimmed eyes, looking as though he hadn’t slept or eaten in quite some time. He held a fork in a trembling hand, but only stared down at his plate, as if he wasn’t really seeing what was on it.
Though a far cry from the man he was today, there was no mistaking that the wretched young boy was none other than a very young Vitali Kristeva.
The woman looked up, her red mouth pursing in a pout. “You haven’t touched a meal in almost a week. This is a tragic waste of food, you know. There are children out there who are starving unwillingly.”
The young Vitali barely reacted. Keeping his head up and his shoulders straight seemed to require all of his focus. He didn’t touch the vegetables and meat on his plate. “Mother… why do they call to me?” His voice was soft, bewildered. No trace of the bravado it contained, today. “The dead… I did what you said. I tried not to listen. They… won’t let me ignore them.” He didn’t have to tell her what he meant. Deep, ugly scratches marred the pale surface of his neck, disappearing below the collar of his shirt. They also peeked out from the tips of his sleeve cuffs, which, like his shirt collar, were stained a sickly-red brown, like they’d only recently stopped bleeding.
But the woman (who was evidently his mother) didn’t so much as look up from her own plate. “You attract them. It is in your nature. If ignoring them isn’t working, then you will have to find another way to deal with them.”
“But I… don’t know how. I don’t know what is happening to me…” His fork dropped to his plate, and he moved his trembling hand to his lap. It seemed to take everything he had not to show the fear on his face, which was otherwise evident in his mannerisms. Against his better judgement, he dared to look into her lovely face. “I… need help, mother. You have magic. Can’t you… help me?”
His mother chewed her food slowly, putting silence between them for several moments. When she met Vitali’s eyes, there was no affection in her own. “I am, Vitali. I am helping you the only way I can: providing you meals, water, and a place to sleep. But I do not have your magic. How you handle it is up to you.”
Vitali was careful not to let his face fall, though he looked as though something in him had already given up… “I just want it to stop…”
“Well, it is not going to. That is not how magic works. I can only guess that you inherited it from your father, and he is as lost a cause is any. You’ll find no help from him, either, unless you can find him at all.” Sighing, as though her son had ruined her perfectly good meal, she stood and took his untouched plate away. “You have but two choices, Vitali; let your power burn you out and ultimately kill you. Or, learn to take it by the reins, and use it to your potential. I cannot make the decision for you, and I cannot tell you how your abilities work. You will have to experiment with what you know, and learn what you do not.”
“But what if… I am not strong enough?”
His mother paused, placing both her empty plate and his untouched one on the counter. “Well, then it will spell your doom. So, if you want to have any semblance of control over your life, you will have to learn to be strong enough.”
Dishes aside, she moved toward the door of the caravan and donned a cloak and her boots. Vitali abruptly stood up from his seat. “Where are you going?”
“You know you are not allowed to ask me that.”
“It’s just… if you stay, maybe they will leave me alone, for a night. They don’t seem to come around when you are near…” He hated how his throat felt tight. How he felt the burn of tears behind his eyes. His mother hated signs of weakness. “...I am so tired, mother. Just one night’s sleep, and maybe I can eat again. And I can be strong, as you said, and find a way to… to turn this around.”
But the lovely dark-haired woman did not pause. She spared him but one more fleeting glance. “I am not your solution, Vitali. Better for you to learn now that you are your own greatest ally. I trust the answer will come to you.”
She departed, then, leaving her own son staring at the door with hopeless, dark eyes, and raw wounds beneath his shirt from the restless and angry spirits that his power attracted. Left him to face another sleepless night of pain and horror, alone.
Teselin withdrew her hands and folded them in her lap when the memory came to an end. A memory that didn’t even belong to her, but was no less visceral. “Do you see?” She asked Alster, her voice barely above a whisper. “His magic left him so wrecked from what he attracted… he should have succumbed. He should have died, but he didn’t. He survived, and found a means of controlling it. He was so weak, but now… now, it is as if he is invincible. Like nothing can truly touch him. I know this from accounts of people who have crossed paths with him… he was like me. He overcame it. We’re the same; the only difference is his summoning abilities are specific to the dead. Mine… are just wild.” Your power is your own, but only when you come to realize who is the master. I have faith that you will.
He had faith in her--which meant, that maybe, just maybe, he cared. And that unlike their cold and unfeeling mother, he might be able to help.
Pressing a sigh from her lungs that could have deflated her, she took Alster’s flesh and blood hand in both of her own and smiled. “In so many ways, you’ve already helped me, just by assuring me of my brother’s safety.” She informed him. “I know I will survive Stella D’Mare, because I need to. I plan to see him again. The beginning of the end of this turmoil, all of this destruction I leave in my wake, lies in him. But before I can get to him… I want to help you, and this city, in every way I can. Chara has been more than hospitable to me. It is the least I can do.”
A silencing spell. Of course. “Well, don’t I feel like an idiot,” he said, his smile contrite. What he failed to mention, was that he had considered using a silencing spell the night before, but one thought spoke louder than all the rest, and he ended up heeding its counsel. You’ve been quiet all your life, Alster. You’ve let people control you without speaking your dismay. They will hear you now. Don’t hide your pleasure. Show them all that you won’t be silenced.
“Tivia… of course. Chara mentioned this name.” Teselin seemed to derive a modicum of comfort from the reminder that her brother was not alone, and not only that, but someone was looking out for him in her stead. She already held Tivia in high regard, despite not having met her. “I can’t begin to tell you how much of a relief that is. That my brother is not only alive and well, but that someone has been looking out for him… I do not think he as ever had that. Not even from our mother, as you just saw.”
In so many ways, the young summoner couldn’t help but feel fortunate, compared to what she’d seen of her brother’s past and what he had endured. Her childhood hadn’t been spectacular, but it hadn’t been anything like his own. “Our mother is… a different sort of person. I do not believe she ever intended to hurt Vitali; in her own way, I do believe she cared for him. But her way of showing her love is by giving her children the space they need to grow and evolve on their own; she does not provide guidance, or affection, or help. Just food and shelter. The rest was largely up to us--at least, I can assume as much from my other brothers. But Vitali… he was her first. I think, only when she saw what he had become, did she realize her mistakes. There… is something you should know, about him. About them.”
She wasn’t sure why she was divulging all of this to Alster. In part, it felt cathartic to get it off her chest, and this Rigas caster had a rather disarming nature about him that seemed to encourage her confiding. But it would also lend him a better understanding of who she was, through her origins. “Vitali is much older than he appears. I believe my mother is, as well. She hasn’t changed in all the years I’ve known her; and I imagine that neither has Vitali, or he’d be dead from old age, by now. He has never told me as much, but it just something I’ve always known. That there are decades between us… more than a handful of them. I do not know if I’ve inherited whatever it is that seems to have stunted their age, or prolonged their life, but if I haven’t… I worry that there is not enough time in the world for me to even begin to understand my magic. Vitali has assumed full control of his, but who knows how long that took? I can only hope that between the two of you… that I might at least begin to harness these energies.”
Straightened her shoulders, she sat back against the sofa, her dark eyes staring at something far away. “There is something uncanny about our bloodline. I cannot begin to understand what it is, but it is there. It’s true, I’ve never fallen ill to so much as a common cold. Although… I’ve learned that suppressing my magic and my magnetism to other energies could likely kill me.” Teselin blinked and turned back to Alster to explain what she meant. “When I first arrived in Stella D’Mare, Chara had me stay in the dungeons--and understandably. She did not know me or who I was, and my relation to my brother made her suspicious. I chose to stay there willingly. But come the next morning, I’d become very ill overnight… it was as if everything, every illness I’d repelled, had caught up to me. Chara removed me from the dungeons, and within a day, I’d recovered again. I bounced right back as soon as my magic was not suppressed. I am not sure if Vitali has experienced the same thing, but… it frightens me, just how ingrained my magic is to my very being. Suppressing it is not an option, because it seems that I cannot survive without it. I must harness it, or else yield to its power, and… I do not want that to happen.
“Hadwin, when he tried to help me… he showed me something. Something awful.” The very memory of that image in her mind, of a different Teselin standing among the rubble of what had once been Stella D’Mare, among the bodies of those who used to be her friends. Standing there, indifferent, taking what she wanted, and then moving on. A Teselin who was, perhaps, not so different from Vitali. “He showed me what I can become, if I do not harness it. I think… I am at risk of letting go of what makes me human. If my very presence brings danger to those around me, if I attract rainfall that drowns a city or lightning that sets a village alight with fire, then I am left with two options: do something about it, or… stop caring. Accept the inevitable. I don’t want to become that person, Alster. I… I would rather die before I become that person.”
At the Rigas caster’s suggestion that he gain access to her mind, Teselin’s reaction, understandably, was to recoil from it. The last time she had given anyone a glimpse into her mind, she’d run back to the Rigas dungeons, deciding it was better to let death slowly take her with her magic suppressed than to risk seeing that possible future through to fruition. “I don’t have anything to hide… but I am afraid of what you’ll find. Of what I will find.” The young summoner confessed, looking down at the dull toes of her boots. “I’m afraid to find out, because what if what you see is something condemning? What if there is something in me beyond my knowledge that provokes all of this magic into being wild? Something that can’t be stopped…
“Then again… I guess that is what we’re here to find out, isn’t it?” Teselin looked up again, uncertainty in her eyes as she met Alster’s. “It… didn’t go well, at all, when Hadwin tried to help me. And he did try, despite that his methods are not on the gentle side… If it starts to look bad, then we need to stop. Immediately.”
Alster did not begin all at once, though. He shifted his body and this thoughts, aiming to draw her attention to something else. Back to Vitali. “Something… happened to him? What do you mean?” The young summoner seemed genuinely startled. “Chara said--she told me that he was safe, with Tivia…”
And, maybe that was the case, as it turned out. Chara had no lied; he was safe. But what she had neglected to tell Teselin was that Vitali Kristeva was far from well…
She could feel her heart leap into her throat as the Rigas caster described what had happened to her brother. How he had been attacked, what it had cost him, and what was to be made of his current condition. Stable, but… maimed. Blind. And, as Alster said, not so invincible, anymore…
“But he… he is all right? He is alive and still managing?” Teselin was trying to stay strong, but there was a distinct tremor to her voice that she could not hide, any more than the brightening of her eyes. “Regardless of what happens to him, he will bounce back. It is in his nature to do so. I don’t think he is capable of succumbing to whatever ails him; it isn’t in his nature…” Here she was, yammering on and on about how he would rise above it, when she wasn’t even privy to the severity of her brother’s condition. What if his condition took a turn for the worst--what if he didn’t survive? For all she know, Vitali was immortal. But invincible… evidently, it wasn’t the case. And given what he had already suffered, it dawned on her that anything could take him, at any time.
And yet… she couldn’t lose hope, not even a thread of it. It was all she had left to hold onto.
“I… I do want to go to him. He was the entire reason I came to Stella D’Mare; somehow, I sensed that he would be here. And, he was… only I was too late to arrive.” Teselin turned her head away to dab at the tears in her eyes with her sleeves, but it was already evident by the sound of her voice and the tension in her shoulder that she was failing to contain her crying. “But I made promises. Chara was kind to me; she didn’t have to give me refuge, here. I don’t know what would have happened to me, out in the cold, if she hadn’t let me in. So I… I will follow through with this plan. If Vitali is safe, and stable, then I shouldn’t be out of time. It shouldn’t be too late.”
Drawing a shaky breath to calm her nerves, the young summoner breathed through the shock of the news and tried to center herself. “So, let’s do this. See what you might find, however awful… I will have to face it sooner or later.”
When she managed to compose herself, she gave Alster the go-ahead, trying not to feel nervous, given her poor experience with Hadwin’s earnest attempt to help her. But, she soon found that it wasn’t the same thing at all. She was not faced with a terrible scene marking a harbinger of what could become of her. Instead, she found herself in the middle of a calm meadow, where nary a gale of wind rustled the branches of trees in the distance. Nothing was amiss, and nothing was dark around the edges.... But it wasn’t altogether normal, either. For in the middle hovered what looked to be a crack, a hole in the fabric of this beautiful, placid scene. It flashed shades of dark violet and indigo and black, a nebula, a small galaxy that reached out with quick tendrils, pulling, pulling life itself and everything that it comprised toward it. Greedy, hungry, ever reaching, ever pulling, like the essence of a magnet that sought to attract anything and everything.
“What…” Teselin spoke, but she barely had a voice. Her dark eyes were wide with confusion, and concern. “What… is that?”
Despite the absurdity of her task, Sigrid had promised Chara to seek out the shapeshifter who had escaped her mark the night before, so that was precisely what she prepared herself to do as soon as she woke the next morning. It felt as though she’d been assigned to search for a needle in a haystack; Stella D’Mare was only a city, but it was a vast city, plentiful in its forested areas, and how was one to track down a man who could also be a wolf?
Furthermore, Hadwin now knew what she looked like, and was likely aware that she was working for Chara--or, at least, paying her this favor out of goodwill. If he took note of her, then he would avoid her, and she wasn’t entirely certain that he would be open to discussion. After all, the Rigas head had thrown him in a dungeon. Regardless of whether her reasons were entirely justified, the Dawn warrior, as an impartial third party, couldn’t exactly blame him for feeling sore about it. What were the chances that he would want to listen to her plea to work with him, and not alongside him, while he was behind bars?
Haraldur had mentioned that the wolf-man had a penchant for seeking trouble and mayhem, when he was not causing it, himself. That he had heckled Alster’s fiancee, Elespeth, into a ‘friendship’ that she really hadn’t wanted. Could be that you’re next, the mercenary had warned her with a pitying smile. It was not a statement that struck confidence in her, nor did it make her feel any more assured about setting out in search of this man. If he wasn’t palatable as a friend, she could only imagine what he would be like as an enemy.
Sigrid left Gaolithe behind, this time, and did not arm herself with a bow. Unlike last night, this was not a hunting mission; if he ran from her, then he ran. No one could say she didn’t put in the effort. So she made for the wooded areas, just as she had the night before. There was no telling if he would still be dwelling among the trees; and, frankly, she didn’t know if she would encounter him as a wolf or a human, or if she would recognize him as a wolf. “What kind of fool’s errand have I agreed to…” The warrior murmured to herself, before she paused, hearing a rustling in the bushes. Sigrid turned sharply to her left, and lo and behold, there he was: or, at least, it was some wolf. Though she did not know wolves to be so curious or so brazen, especially without their pack. This one was acting more like a coyote.
“Wait… are you…” She began, taking a cautious step toward the wild animal. The wolf wagged its tail at her--and then it took off.
“Hold up!” Sigrid called, and gave chase, despite hot foolish it made her feel. “I just want to talk! Chara isn't interested in incarcerating you--but she needs your help. You are integral to the plan…”
It did not come as a surprise to hear of Vitali’s advanced age. Though never told by the necromancer outright, Alster was aware, by the peculiarities of his aura: aged, but not old. As a Rigas, the extension of years was a normal phenomenon. Even without Rigel’s gift, immortality sacrificed for the long-lasting survival of his progeny, it was well-known lore that casters born with rich amounts of magic and high resistances could live beyond the normal range. Such was the case with a handful of Rigases of the past, some living up to six hundred years. Considering the pact he created with the Serpent, did he also gain an expanded range of life? Or, like the otherworldly beast and Rigel Rigas, did he become...immortal?
"You… you are almost a hundred years old?” Teselin’s jaw visibly dropped. “That… that is incredible. I don't know Vitali’s true age, and it shouldn't shock me that you are also beyond your years. It makes me wonder about the nature of certain magic, honestly. How some seems to destroy you from the inside out, and… then there’s you, and Vitali, and me. I can’t even get sick, which makes no sense. If my power is so immense, it should be destroying me. Not enhancing my health.” Sometimes, I wish it would destroy me, were the words left unspoken.
“Magic doesn't really give us a choice, does it? Embark on a gruelling journey, or succumb to it.” The young summoner shook her head slowly, dregs of sunlight catching the inky shine of her dark hair. “I’d have had a happy enough life without it, I think… but suppressing it isn't an option. Not in my case, at least. I would actually kill me.”
Strange, how great power wasn’t necessarily what led to someone’s ultimate downfall. Not in her case, at least, and not in her brother’s. Never would she have anticipated that Vitali’s life would change as a result of bad luck. She felt foolish, shedding tears over his misfortune, particularly at the news that he was still alive and well, but it had shattered the illusion of his invincibility. Maybe she was wrong to ever have thought he was untouchable; she had no one to blame but herself for her disappointment. “He will find a way. He is adaptable,” She said, to try and console herself and took the proffered handkerchief. The words were for her own reassurance, if for no other reason. “I shouldn’t be crying. I should be happy he survived… thank you. For helping him… when you had no reason to do so.”
Alster could be trusted. Someone who so disliked a man, yet who went to great measures to save his life, was someone worth trusting; and for that, she did not hesitate to let her into her mind, to explore what lurked beneath the surface of her physical being to see what lurked beneath. And when Teselin bore witness to that which dwelt within the calm and placid framework of her soul, her very existence… well, needless to say, she was glad not to be alone.
The young summoner did not have to be told twice to step away from the yawning mass of electric, magnetic energy, reaching with hungry, greedy tendrils in all directions. No wonder, she realized, that every standing tree was far in the distance. This all-consuming mass would have dragged any and every living thing within its extensive reach; not even the flora dared settled near the chasm. “It looks… it feels wrong.” She whispered, afraid to raise her voice. The magic was an entity in and of itself; like another being that shared the space within her small body. It had different wants, different needs from its host, and it extended its reach to sate its hunger. How something so wild and untamed could be part of her at all was a mystery.
“I don’t like how it reached for anything that it can possibly consume… it isn’t right, it isn’t even natural. I don’t want it…”
As if it card what she wanted. As if anyone had any control whatsoever over what they inherited, whether it be the colour of their eyes, the height of their stature, the texture of their hair. If this power was truly God-like, and if that was what it was intended for, then what was it doing in the body of a meek young girl? Teselin had never come to know her mother’s magic; like Vitali, she knew the woman’s life must have extended beyond what was natural for any given human being, yet she had never born witness to her power. Never used it or spoke of it, and Teselin had never had the courage to ask. Likewise, she had never known her father, just as Vitali had never known his. The similarities between the two of them must have spoken to something their mother passed on, but if Vitali was limited to summoning the dead, and yet her power was entirely unbound and versatile…
She was at once disappointed and relieved she had never known the man her father was.
Eyes wide, the young summoner turned to Alster. Like he’d said, he’d had years to learn about magic and its ins and outs, its nature. If anyone could provide her with any answers, it was him. “I am not a God,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I shouldn’t have this power… how can I possibly hope to harness something that is so much bigger than I am?”
At this point, bearing witness to the beast that dwelt inside of her, Teselin was apt to beg him to teach her how to extinguish it--because surely, there must be a way. It couldn’t be that it was intrinsically tied to her very being, could it? But the Rigas caster had other ideas up his sleeve. He pointed skyward to a cloud, and suggested she reverse the magic’s wild polarity, and focus its power on a single source. Outright, she wanted to deny it; to deny any further interaction with something that should not belong to her at all… but, that was irrational. It was not going anywhere, and for now, her only hope was to learn to control it. To come through for Chara and Stella D’Mare, and find a means to safely summon that tidal wave.
“What if I end up hurting us?” Teselin fretted, shaking her head, wide eyes still locked on the writhing nebula of power before them. “I’m afraid… I know it is cowardice, but I am afraid of it. Of what it can do, to me, to others… what if it goes terribly wrong?”
Alster gently reassured her that he would pull the both of them out of this excursion, should anything go wrong. Even if she could not trust the magic, and could not trust herself… she could trust him. She had to believe that he had the means to keep the both of them safe. So, Teselin Kristeva took a deep, shuddering breath, and stepped forward. The dark, irridescent nebula licked it fingers up and down, toward and away from the earth, looking for something, anything, to grab onto. The closer she became, the more those snake-like tendrils seemed to reach for her, sensing something new in their space to take, to consume, to bind to…
You won’t take me, Teselin thought with a surge of defiance, despite that she could practically taste her fear on her tongue. She took another step forward, and just before those tendrils could shoot forward and grab her, she stopped them short with the flat of palm, just inches short of touching her. And then, with another gesture skyward, she directed those greedy tendrils toward the clouds--and, to her surprise, they obeyed. Shooting upwards like reversed lightning, the fingers of the dark neubla filled the innocent cirrus clouds, turning them dark, filling them like black ink upon virgin paper. The clouds stirred, they grew, they writhed and pulsed with the raw power, buzzing, vibrating, until they could hold no more
The sky filled with dark, and then it opened up. The clouds bristled with electricity, glowing like starlight through cracks in the dark, until they couldn’t contain the power that filled them to bursting. With a crash, they released that power in the form of lightning, bound directly for its very source--the nebula that fed it. Rain was soon to follow, pouring from the now inky clouds in sheets. Teselin and Alster were soaked in seconds, and the young summoner looked so startled that she backed away again, toward Alster. Her eyes were wide and shocked at the sight before her, afraid that whatever was brewing within that dark chasm of her power, she’s made it worse.
“Did I… make that happen?” She breathed, a tremble in her voice. “Okay… I’m through with this. I’m done--take us out, of here, please…” She grabbed his hand, her knees weak from the terror of the power she was witnessing. “Please, Alster…”
Teselin squeezed her eyes shut, and when she opened them again, she was safe and dry, sitting upon the couch in Clara’s suite. Alster sat next to her, his steel arm resting in his lap. She placed her own hand to her chest; her heart was still racing. “What was that, Alster? How did that… how is that thing inside of me? I’m not a God. I’m not…” Clearly distraught, the young girl held her forehead in her hands, elbows resting atop her knees. “What am I supposed to do with it? Why would anyone be born with power like that? It’s too great a responsibility.” I just want it to drain, she thought, picturing expelling it harmlessly into the ground, where it would remain forever detached from her being. If only…
Maybe. Maybe there was a way; maybe someday. But not before she made good on her promise to Chara. Her magic had use, yet.
Pulling her hands away from her face, Teselin turned to Alster. He looked far calmer than she did; like they’d had a breakthrough, although she wasn't exactly sure what it was. She hadn't liked the feeling of that power. “What I just saw… how do I possibly channel that into summoning a tidal wave? Without doing more damage than I’d intended? That storm… I don't know that I’d be able to stop it.”
A dull throb began to pulse in her temples, and Teselin brought her fingers to either side of her head. “I’m… going to lie down, a while. I imagine Chara has a lot to discuss with you, today. Maybe if you have a moment later, or tomorrow, we can… I don't know. Maybe you can help me figure this out.”
With a shy, thankful smile, the young summoner rose from the sofa and took her leave of the exquisite suite. A few moments later, Elespeth emerged from the bedroom, looking fresher and brighter than she had in quite some time, wearing a placid smile. “Everything go well?” She asked, placing her hands on Alster’s shoulders as she leaned down to kiss his cheek. “Don't feel too much pressure. She’s been longing to see you and pick your brain about magic, but don't expect to be her Savior, Alster. She’s Vitali’s sister, after all. There are layers to her magic that we might never comprehend… leave that to her brother when she finds him.” His sister, his problem, she wanted to say, but thought better of it.
“Chara wants us to discuss our position on this plan after dinner, tonight.” She changed the subject, pulling her long braid over her shoulder. “Until then, I can show you the lay of the land, so to speak. Or what has occurred in your absence. Better for you to be in the know about everything that your cousin won’t be eager to tell you about.”
Well, the wolf didn’t turn tail and run for long. Something she said must have resonated with him, whether it was her sincerity, or the fact she was visibly unarmed. Whatever it was, she counted her blessings that he didn't make her chase him for too long, for she wasn't sure just how long her patience could endure. “I am not your handler, shape-shifter,” Sigrid assured him, folding her arms, trying not to feel uneasy that her romantic and sexual preferences were somehow so visible to him. “She merely realizes that it is far easier and more beneficial for you to be her friend than her enemy. You have valuable skills and Intel on Mollengard that we cannot otherwise access. As for my involvement…”
The Dawn warrior shrugged her shoulders and stepped forward. “I offered to be of assistance. I am here in Stella D’Mare to assist Alster, whom Chara called here, in need of his help. But when he is not in need of me, I might as well be of help elsewhere.” She shifted her shoulder, where Gaolithe was typically situated behind. “I’d be happy to take down Solveig with my sword. Chara would like me to incapacitate her, at best. So I suppose we will see how it plays out.”
Drawing a breath, she expelled it slowly, desperately trying to channel her inner diplomat. Negotiating was not something she often put to practice, particularly with difficult individuals. “I do not know what she intends; I won’t lie. But it seems to me like she prioritizes her plan to throw off and vanquish Mollengard more than she values condemning you. Not sure if you care, but she terminated that guard of yours; he might be due for consolation. It’s safe for you to return to the upper city proper, if it interests you at all to seek him out.
“Regardless, what you do makes no difference to me.” She spread her hands, palms up. “I am literally just the Messenger. I've nothing else to address with you, so whatever you mean by the ‘good stuff’ eludes me.”
“Is that right?” The wolf-shifter’s face broke out into a wide grin. “What a strange concept for Lady Power-Grab to adopt. Friends are more valuable than enemies; how novel. Now, did she take this stance after I escaped? Because I sure as shit didn’t see this glowing hospitality when I was whiling away in a dank dungeon cell. Funny that this change of heart should happen after I escaped my bars. I guess she didn’t know how good she had it until it got up and walked away. But we both know she’s trying to protect her own ass, so the point of ‘friendship’ is moot. Though,” he cocked his head to one side, eyes curiously trained on the warrior, “she was sure quick in her decision to throw a stranger at this urgent problem. Why not Elespeth? Or the gifted Alster Rigas, who could wallop me with the flick of the wrist, with all his brimming Serpent power? Or the kid? If I’m honest, sending Teselin after me—not a good idea. I’m staying away; bad influence and all.”
“Of course, she reminds you of you; which is precisely why I thought it would be wise for you to talk to her. For both of your sakes.”
Elespeth took a seat next to him on the settee and snaked an arm around his waist. “She gets under my skin, I have to say. But I can’t dislike the girl… she reminded me too much of you. So insistent on helping, caring for people who don’t deserve care… Now that I am saying it out loud, I am not sure why I thought it would be effective for you to talk sense into her.” She teased, and pecked him on the cheek. “But… you’ve taken the words right out of my mouth. You’ve seen her, now, seen what she is capable of. If she is practically your mirror image… what does the mirror show you?”
He went on to confirm that he was exactly what she had expected: that Teselin was not ready, and in no way prepared, to summon the tidal wave. Not on her own, at least. “Whatever it is that makes you want that power,” she began gently, taking his flesh and blood hand. “I don’t think you really want it. Look at what you already have; how you feel it’s changed you, how you struggle with it. I’ve seen Teselin struggle in her own skin. Whatever the extent of her power… it should not belong to anyone. Not even her; and yet, she is stuck with it.”
Pressing a sigh from her lungs, the Atvanian warrior stood. “Chara anticipated that she might not be readily prepared to summon that tidal wave. So… she had a contingency plan. To afflict Teselin with the same draught that she intends to use on Solveig; one to put her under someone else’s control. Use her--and her magic--like a puppet.” Her mouth and words soured, both audibly and visibly, as she paced the room. “I don’t like it, not even a little, under the most dire circumstances. But Teselin, if all else fails, has agreed to do it. To have some part in this ludicrous plan… Chara has managed to make her trust her that much. So,” she spread her hands helplessly, “There’s that. I’ve tried to do my part, to be the voice of reason. But my voice can’t be heard in this city. Maybe,” she the turned back to him, her green eyes soft and pleading, “maybe yours can. If not to convince Teselin not to go through with the plan, then to convince Chara not to let her go through with it.”
The corner of Sigrid’s mouth curved into a knowing grin, as she explained, “I think the both of you know why Chara did not send Alster or his fiancee to negotiate with you, shape-shifter. They have been longing for one another’s company for quite some time, now. I am willing to bet that neither of them would have agreed to this errand had Chara asked them. I haven’t seen either of them since we touched ground, last night; though I am willing to venture a guess as to how they have been occupying their time.”
Perhaps it was because she had mentally prepared herself to deal with someone of Hadwin’s temperament, but the Dawn warrior wasn’t fazed at the suggestion that perhaps Chara Rigas simply deemed her ‘disposable’. Perhaps she did; but winning her favor wasn’t exactly a long-term goal, since she had already secured Alster’s as a friend. And she had a feeling that he held more sway here in Stella D’Mare than he was readily willing to admit. “Maybe I am disposable to her. If that’s the case, then I’m fine with that. This city is not my home, and she is not my leader; I am here for Alster, and for Haraldur. He is my cousin, if your mind-prying skills haven’t already detected that.” Sigrid shrugged her shoulders, arms folded. “But if you ask me, I think I am here merely because Chara found me at the right place at the right time, and she is desperate to see her plan to fruition without a hitch. So,” she unfolded her arms, and spread her arms wide, “here we are.”
Like mind, indeed. Admittedly, Sigrid couldn’t help but have felt a pang of sympathy the other night, as well as guilt, in interrupting the moment between the shape-shifter and the Rigas guard. Indeed, a part of her had wanted to turn her head and lie to Chara, stating she’d seen nothing and hadn’t caught wind of Hadwin… but at the time, and even now, she recognized him as someone valuable to the blonde woman’s plan. At the very least, she hadn’t embarrassed them… or, rather, that hadn’t been her intent, upon finding them. Though that Rigas guard had looked plenty embarrassed… “You like me because I’m attracted to people of the same sex as myself?” She couldn’t help but arch an eyebrow at the absurdity of his claim. “Rather a strange reason to take to someone, although I suppose it is preferable to hating or shaming me for it. Beyond that, I am not sure that you and I have enough in common to be considered ‘like-minded’, shape-shifter. But I will grant you that: neither of us has had much of an easy time with regard to personal relationships, it seems. I’ll offer camaraderie, insofar as that.
“However,” she looked down at his proffered hand, and her lips curled with suspicion. “I’d advise you don’t snoop around in people’s heads without knowing the whole story. You might already think you know me, but what you think you know is but a snippet of my reality. I don’t care that she embarrassed me; I don’t even really care that she outed me to my brothers and my city. I was in love with her, and she led me to believe there was reason to have hope--and then, she took great pleasure in tearing my heart to pieces. And that is the sentiment that sits in my mind and my heart. A hard lesson to learn, but a lesson, nonetheless.”
With that clarification out of the way, the Dawn warrior sighed and decided there was no harm in standing on level ground with this character. After all, they were all supposedly on the same team. “Sigrid Sorenson, of the Dawn guard,” she said, only to realize he probably had already deduced that second part. “You can call me what you want, but I won’t guarantee that I’ll respond to anything but my name. So the choice--and the risk--is yours.”
Sigrid couldn’t help but feel hit with deja vu, however, at the wolf-man’s proposition. Just how ‘wanted’ was he, and far out of favor of practically everybody--including those on his side--that he felt he needed a bodyguard? And the gall of asking a Dawn warrior, at that… That doesn’t necessarily mean anything, here, she reminded herself. Alster’s fiancee, Elespeth, seemed to be the only one that had heard tell of the age-old warrior clan from which she hailed. But aside from all of that--from the fact that he sought her as a bodyguard, of all things… Why was yet another busybody so insistent on involving himself in her personal life?
“Look. I need to make something perfectly clear,” she began, and scratched the back of her neck out of her own discomfort. “I… appreciate that I don’t need to explain myself to you. Frankly, it’s a relief that you already know the part of me I tend to keep secret, except for around close, safe friends. Gods know how many times I needed to explain myself in Eyraille… but I don’t want what you are offering.” Lips pressed into a firm line, shoulders squared, she took a step forward, lowering her voice. There was nobody else within the vicinity, so deep in the woods, but it had become a habit when she spoke on this topic in particular. “I know your type, Kavanaugh. You seek thrills wherever you can get them--and from whomever you can get them. Don’t get me wrong, you will not find judgment from me for your way of life; who am I to say what should make people happy? It’s just…”
Sigrid’s face twisted, and she turned her gaze to her the solid tips of her boots. “It’s not for me. I have enough difficulty as it is, taking myself seriously since… well, since that past incident. I can’t do what you do. I don’t have it in me. Hell, I can’t even dance with a woman, let alone... I want… what I thought I could have with her.” For whatever reason, she didn’t know how to say it: love. That connection. What Haraldur had with Vega; what Alster had with Elespeth. What Lady Chara had with Lilica. She wanted that, but had no expectation that she would find it. Not after the rude awakening, some years ago. “Now… isn’t the time for it. Not during war, whether or not it is mine to fight. Not with that damned sword weighing me down.”
Feeling sufficiently red in the face, she stepped back, to give herself some space if for no other reason. “Look, if protection is what it will take to convince you to cooperate with Chara Rigas, then I can give you that. Only because I assume she wants you in one piece, as well, or else how are you to be of any use to her?” The Dawn warrior shook her head, unable to shake the feeling that she was somehow being played--if not by Chara Rigas, than by this fellow. If not for Alster and Haraldur’s involvement, she’d have no interest in any of this. Her allegiance, the Dawn Guard’s allegiance, was to Braighdath, and to Galeyn through their rich history… another, unrelated war was not what she needed to occupy her time.
“You want steel, I’ll bring steel--but it will not be Gaolithe. If it is at all within my control, then that blade will not be wielded at all.” There was no room for argument or negotiation in her tone, or in the sharp glean of her blue blue eyes. “And… do us both a favor, and pray stay out of my personal life. Go find your Rigas guard and make amends for the trouble you have caused him; it is the least you can do, for costing a man his position for your thirst for brief dalliances.”
With nothing left to say, Sigrid turned and walked away from the wolf-man. Haraldur had been right; he was a headache, and he sought trouble like a child sought sweets. She only hoped she hadn’t made a grave mistake, offering him assistance.
It had only been a week, but somehow, it felt much longer. Perhaps it had to do with all of the progress that Galeyn had seen, in such little time; the strengthening and proliferation of the Night Garden, the growing sense of calm as people began to fall back into their old rhythms, beginning to feel a sense of security within their city again, and the growing help of the Dawn Guard, since they had sent an emissary to Braighdath to inform them that the kingdom of the Night Garden had risen again.
To her relief, Lilica had found ample reason to keep busy. With the improvement of her fever in the past week, and the deeper, more restful sleeps she found at night, devoid of nightmares or anything to distract her from well-needed rejuvenation, she had also found it in her to be more productive. To be where she was needed, without being overbearing; to working with the Gardeners, and gradually spending more and more time in the Night Garden, if only to better understand it. Occasionally, she would hear from Vitali or Tivia, but the two seemed to be content keeping to themselves, while her brother learned to navigate the world all over again as a blind man.
Despite her involvement in doing what she could for a foreign kingdom that was somehow still her home, the dark mage spent the majority of her time alone--but not alone with her thoughts, as she felt that would lead down a dangerous slope out of which she might never find a way. So, instead, she spent those moments deep in meditation--in search of him: Theomyr Tenebris, her father. She refused to accept that she could not find him, again; that he had abandoned her to something she had never asked for and never wanted, that he still must have existed somewhere, in some form. She searched, and she searched… She tried to feel him through the Night Garden, to which he was inexorably connected, looking for a sign, anything that she wasn’t entirely alone in this strange and beautiful place.
She always came away, hands empty of hope, but she didn’t stop trying. It was a calm morning, after breakfast, and with no other means to occupy her time that day without aggravating the Gardeners, Lilica found a quiet spot in the Garden itself to sit and to seek--anything, any sign that there might be some essence of her father attached to this place, some way to contact him…
Something, a warm buzz, alerted her in the pocket of her tunic, drawing her out of her trance-like state. There hadn’t been a moment that she hadn’t kept the resonance stone close, since Alster had given it to her, and she always delighted in hearing the voice of a comrade, even if it was only to discuss matters between Galeyn and its potential allies. Removing the stone from her pocket, she sat up from where she lay. “Alster? What is it?” She asked, but the voice that came through did not belong to the Rigas caster. Well, not that Rigas caster… but another one.
“...Chara?” The chthonic caster almost dropped the stone, and had to do a second take. Her heart skipped several beats. “Is… is that you?”
The shrug that rolled off Hadwin’s shoulders was as glib in form as his mouth, a casual stretching of muscles, rotating in uneven patterns. “In times of war, people bond over way less than sexual preferences. Look at Elespeth and her fiancée, Chara and her dark mage lady-love. On the surface, mismatched as fuck, but they made it work. So I see an ounce of something worth celebrating in you, that resonates with me; is that a crime? It’s better to analyze my allies and see similarities than the bitter differences. It’s all about the tribe. Pack mentality. And seeing as Chara is reliant on my resources, you’re going to want me to care. Risking neck as I am, once I get what I came here for, there’d be no reason to contribute a lick more to this cursed city and its cause. Consider yourself lucky for my interest in you; believe me, you’re better off that way.”
Speak of the devil herself, and she should appear. However much she’d heard, Elespeth didn’t know, and Chara did not let on, but the Atvanian warrior did go a little red in the face with shame. “We apologize for keeping you awake,” she offered, figuring it was the least she could say, but the Rigas head did not reveal how bothered or indifferent she was towards their actions the night before. She quickly moved on to more important matters.
But Elespeth could hardly believe what she was hearing. Chara planned to… delegate the task of leadership to Alster? All for the purpose of remaining near Teselin’s side? “No, you’re right; there is no dissuading Teselin from performing the task. She’s made up her mind and it can’t be changed.” She agreed, and to Chara’s credit, it was no fault of her’s that the young summoner was so stubborn. “But… it is noble of you to wish to stay with her, through it. I was thinking that someone will have to, or else we risk investing in a dangerous and unpredictable individual, left to her own devices. The best we can do is give her the help and support she needs to be successful, without it being at anyone’s expense. Alster has already started the process; he spoke with her just moments ago.”
As Alster and Chara argued over his position on the front lines, leading in her place, it occurred to her before Alster even mentioned it that, yes, they would be separated once again. She hadn’t given him all of the details of her part in the plan to take on Captain Solveig, because she hadn’t been sure of how to portray them without giving him more causes to worry. She didn’t have to; Chara went right ahead and did that for her.
“I was going to tell you,” she said to Alster, looking guiltily away from both Rigas casters. “But I cannot in good conscience let Sigrid and Haraldur face Solveig alone. Having her on our team definitely ups our odds at success, but Solveig has already made it clear that she doesn’t like me. That might come in handy for goading her into combat, distract her enough to use the Devil’s draught, and have her transfer control of the Forbanne to Haraldur. I was always the decoy; I won’t put Sigrid in that position.” Chancing a glance at Alster, she took his flesh and blood hand in her own. “You aren’t leaving me; I’m merely going to be delayed, but I will catch up with you. We all will. You don’t have to worry about me, when I’ve got both Haraldur and Sigrid on my side. Even if that shape-shifting bastard does not pan out as useful to us. But… Chara is right.”
Her other hand reached up to cup his face, and she boldly met his eyes, “You cannot wait for us, no matter how bad it seems. You have an entire city relying on you. Get the people to safety, and Sigrid, Haraldur and I can take care of ourselves. We are all of us survivors; I wouldn’t have agreed to it, if I didn’t think I would ever see you again.”
She was at a loss to make an argument against Hadwin’s reasoning--and that was not something that Sigrid had expected to occur. If he spoke the truth, then he was right. She already knew Haraldur and Vega had met during the war between Andalari and Tadasun, form her conversations with her cousin, confirmed by what little the princess had confided. Evidently, so had Alster and Elespeth, as well as the pwoud, blonde Rigas head and her distraught lover back in Galeyn. War did make people fall in love, sometimes out of the mere necessity to feel something other than fear and sorrow.
Gaolithe was just an excuse, like any other. He was right; she was just plain afraid, to be hurt again. “So I’m a coward when it comes to affections.” She shrugged her shoulders, trying not to sound as bothered as she was for the fact that the wolf-shifter was right. “It’s true. I don’t know how to court women, and I wouldn’t know what to do, if given the opportunity. But sometimes, it is just easier to be afraid and avoid what we fear than to face it head on. As someone who sees fear as clearly as you do, I am sure you are already aware of that.”
Was it worth it? She wondered, just for a fraction of a moment. Sigrid Sorenson didn’t have the courage to face what she feared head on, but with someone to walk her through it, provided he respected her boundaries and understood what she was looking for… Was it ludicrous of her to consider taking him up on this offer, after all?
“Wait.” She said, pausing in her step, before he could walk away. “I’m not blaming Gaolithe--not entirely. But no one has held it for over a century. If it has chosen to be a part of my life now, of all times, then it must mean that something is coming, since it was crafted as a weapon of war, and is intended to be used as such. What if… well, what if I agree to your offer, and find it successful? It could be dangerous for anyone to get too close to me. And the only thing that frightens me more than having my heart broken again, would be to find someone, and… to lose them. I don’t know if I could bear it. So, yes, Hadwin Kavanaugh, I’m afraid to venture too close to anything related to love for a variety of reasons. I wish I wasn’t. But no one has ever been successful in wishing away their fears.”
Pressing her lips together thoughtfully, she added, “You have my word as a protector that I will not let harm befall you, for as long as you prove loyal to Chara Rigas and her cause--a cause that I am also a part of, for the respect I hold for Alster Rigas. Show me you can be trusted, and I’ll do my best to ensure your safety. As for everything else…” She pressed a few fingers to her forehead, wondering if she was going to regret this. “We’ll talk, maybe, if you are willing to be discreet about it. And only when and if I’m feeling a little more daring.”
You’ve made some stupid decisions before, Sigrid Sorenson, she thought sorely to herself. We’ll find out if this turns out to be the stupidest one, yet.
It was her. That voice… Lilica would know it anywhere. Time and again, she had yearned to hear it come from that stone, knowing full well that it was near impossible. The resonance stone partnered with her own was in Alster’s possession, and he hadn’t made any comment about giving it over to Chara when he reached Stella D’Mare. Still, she hoped, but now that that hope had finally seen fruition, the chthonic caster could hardly believe it. She even considered that she was hallucinating the familiar cadence, hence why she had asked for clarification from the person on the other side. It was her; the fierceness in that voice was unmistakable.
Unbidden, the dark one felt herself smile for what was likely the first time in a very long time. A real smile, one that evoked feelings she had diligently been trying to keep at bay, in her loneliness. She didn’t need to leave them unacknowledged anymore. “Of course. Nothing could make me forget your voice.” She responded, as the hand holding the resonance stone trembled. “I’m…” Lilica paused. What was the protocol, when you hadn’t spoken to the person you loved in what felt like eons? What was it that Chara wanted to hear? The truth… or, something more palatable? “I’m… doing well.” Ultimately, she opted for a version of the truth that would best allay any concerns the Rigas caster might have. “Still a little bit overwhelmed. I am sure that Alster has already debriefed you, if he is in Stella D’Mare, but we have found Galeyn; it exists. And, evidently… it has turned itself over to me.”
There was no filtering the uncertainty from her voice when she spoke of her inheriting a leadership position in a kingdom she had never known. It didn’t feel right to her, for so many reasons, but namely, it was because Chara was not here with her. “The people here are confused and getting back on their feet after being bespelled for over a hundred years, but the Dawn Guard of Braighdath has recently come to lend a hand. Evidently they have been loyal to this place for centuries, even when it seemed lost to the world. You might have already run into one of them--Sigrid Sorenson. She accompanied Alster to Eyraille, to help with his arm, and because it turns out she is related to…”
The Rigas caster interrupted with an abrupt change in subject, and for a moment, it threw Lilica off. Hearing Chara’s voice had opened up a flood gate of words in her, ones that she’d yearned to speak, conversations she’d been hoping to have with the new Rigas head. That infallible desire to feel connected to someone, no matter how far away, had won out over using their time wisely. Stella D’Mare, after all, was still facing a dire threat, and there was no time to spare spending idle minutes chatting about things that did not matter, and things about which Chara could easily hear from Alster. Of course she had called to better coordinate her plans; of course, that made perfect sense.
But her heart fell, nonetheless, when she realized this would not be the correspondence that she was hoping for--that she needed.
Pushing her feelings aside, she answered her questions to the best of her ability. “Of course the D’Marians may seek refuge here. There is more than ample room; Galeyn’s population saw a decline when the spell was lifted, since many of the sick, the weak, and the elderly did not recover from an enchantment of that length,” she explained. “I have already discussed it with them. Of course, many are apprehensive, but that is to be expected when you’ve just awoken after over a century of cursed sleep, only to be informed that you should expect guests. Having help from the familiar faces of Braighdath has assuaged a lot of that concern, but I also mentioned to them that the more able-bodied D’Marians might lend a hand in restructuring this place. To make it a little less overwhelming.”
Lilica looked out, beyond the Garden, and took note of the various individuals clad in deep indigo who had traveled all the way from Braighdath to be of help to the struggling people of Galeyn. “The Dawn Warriors have agreed to help with Stella D’Mare’s evacuation. They will travel by Night Steed to meet the evacuees at an agreed-upon location, on the condition that it does not put Galeyn at risk. It will all be futile if Mollengard only ends up following you, here.”
Ignoring a nagging pain in her chest, Lilica cleared her throat to rid the tightness from her voice. “When… when can I expect you? I realize that your timeline depends entirely on Mollengard’s position, but it would help in order for us to know when we should be prepared to receive you…”
When will I see you again? Was the unspoken question, not directed at Stella D’Mare as a whole, but solely at Chara. And when I see you, will I be able to hold you again? “You know… I don’t know the first thing about being a leader.” The dark mage went on, veering slightly from the topic of their evacuation. If she didn’t say the words now, when would she be able to, knowing full well that the Rigas caster was actually hearing them. “I didn’t ask for this; I’ve gotten good at running and hiding my entire life. Motivating and inspiring people is not my forte.” Particularly not when one of my first acts as their leader involved an effort to destroy the single thing that gave them all hope, she thought, remembering her unwarranted aggression toward the Night Garden. She did not blame these people for not having any faith in her. “I could use your help… if anyone has experience in putting a broken kingdom back together, then it’s you.”
I wish you were here with me. Maybe with Chara at her side, she wouldn’t be so mystified by this place that was supposed to be her home. Maybe… maybe she could even learn to be truly happy, here. A place where she belonged… wasn’t that what she wanted?
Not without Chara.
“How are you, Chara? Are you well?” She didn’t want to avoid the topic of personal wellness. Because she wanted to know she wasn’t alone in her longing; but also that she was invested in Chara’s well-being, and did not know what the stress of this operation was doing to her. “I haven’t a shadow of a doubt that you have things under control; you always seem to. I just want to know you’re safe… and that you’ll safely arrive, here. Tell me whatever it is I can do to make that possible.” To make you come back to me.
Even as Elespeth explained her stance, insofar as her contribution to the operation, Alster lowered his eyes to his lap, and took hold of her oath scar hand. “I’ll sense if you’re in danger,” his voice was little more than a mutter. “If I do, and I’m traveling...there won’t be any way for me to help you. Even with all this power at my disposal. I trust that you’re in the safest company I can ask for, among Sigrid and Haraldur, but you’re facing up against Solveig. What if she leads you into a trap? What if you’re apprehended, and tortured—or worse? Then again,” he brought her hand to his face, “I’m not immune to danger or capture, either. If the Forbanne intercept us, we’re defenseless. All the magic in the world can nary cause a scratch on their magic-resistant forces. I know we’re slugging through enemy-infested territory and all, but,” his smile was a sad one, “I was hoping you’d stay by my side, like old times. With this sudden responsibility over thousands of individuals, who will expect me to prevent them from harm,” he took a steadying breath of air, “it’s not the kind of power I exactly wanted. I have little desire to lead this family. It’ll be hard for me to remain impartial, should any complications arise. And with you gone, along with Sigrid, Haraldur, and Chara...there is no one familiar to watch for if...for when...I lose my mind.” He pressed her hand to his forehead, and closed his eyes.
Elespeth shook her head slowly, giving Alster’s hand a gentle squeeze. Why does this have to be the way things must be? She asked herself, asked the universe and divine intervention. Why, when all we want is a chance to be together? What would it do to them, to spend so much time apart because war dictated it must be so? If time and distance had not diminished what filled Alster’s heart with feelings for her, then she had to believe that this would not be any different--and that nothing, not even danger, could part them forever. “I will be in danger; there is no avoiding that. Captain Solveig… as much as I hate the woman, I know she is a formidable adversary. If we were to fight to the death, I do not think that I would win. But that won’t be the case; I am only to engage her in combat until I manage to strike. Open up a passage to her bloodstream to poison her with the Devil’s draught. It will be dangerous, and I don’t know that I will be entirely unscathed, but I believe that neither Haraldur nor Solveig will let irreversible harm befall me. So if and when you sense that I am in danger… just keep walking.” The Atvanian warrior cupped his face with her other hand and looked into his eyes. “I am right behind you. Just delayed; nothing more.”
Regardless of her safety, Elespeth realized he had a right to be concerned in her absence. He hadn’t been back twenty-four hours; she had not seen it to its full extent, but binding himself to the Serpent had changed Alster in small ways. Ways that expanded beyond the unbridled vigor of their love-making last night… something in his azure eyes that just wasn’t him. It was there, and though she’d only seen glimpses, she could imagine what he meant when he referred to ‘episodes’. Not feeling fully in control, with a distorted view of reality that he did not necessarily endorse… In a way, she had just seen it surface in their conversation with Chara. It made Alster confident; determined, with a vision finally clear enough to see his worth, and his importance to Stella D’Mare and his family as a whole.
And yet… she had a sinking feeling that it also had the potential to make him very dangerous. That was what he had been trying to tell her the other night; it was high time she listened. “You won’t sabotage the mission. You haven’t sabotaged anyone or anything so far; whatever in you has changed… that other part of you appears to be in accordance with your values. Enough that it sees this mission as important enough to make others follow you, when you lead in Chara’s place.” Removing her hand from his face, she rested it gently on his knee. “You won’t sabotage the mission, because you are too aware that it could compromise people; it could compromise me, and my safety. And through all of this, through your change and everything you have endured… you never forgot about me, Alster. And I won’t let you forget about me now. But, I want you to listen to me now.
“None of this is your fault. Nobody here is at fault.” Elespeth enunciated the words, slowly, deliberately. Enough to make him understand, and so that he could not mistake them. “When you left, I’d have gone mad if I couldn’t find a way to help this cause. I am not someone who thrives from sitting idle. Even if you had not suggested I infiltrate Mollengard to learn what I could, that mutt, Hadwin, still would have found me. Chara still would have assigned me similar tasks to keep me busy. What is happening now was inevitable, for me, at no fault of yours or anyone else’s. I need you to understand that; just like I need you to believe that it will be all right.”
She followed his gaze to her ring, glittering on her finger like something far too precious to adorn hands such as her own. “I had a feeling you had done something of the sort; perhaps that is why I so recklessly agreed to be part of this plan.” She smiled grimly, watching the small stone glimmer like starlight on her hand. “I don’t know how I knew, but I think I did. I knew that you would not leave me, entirely unprotected, in this strange and dangerous situation. I believe it will see me through safely. I’ve always believed in your magic, Alster.”
Leaning forward, Elespeth pressed a kiss to the Rigas caster’s lips. “You promised we would be married,” she said softly, wearing a ghost of a smile on her mouth. “Neither of us is going to break that promise, before this is all said and done.”
Lilica considered Chara’s words, as they filled her ears through the resonance stone. She had always valued her input, though she’d never said so much in words. Since Andalari’s war encampment, Chara Rigas had been like a steadfast pillar in a storm, for the dark mage, and her ability to get through to had remained a constant. Like many times before, she could see the Rigas head’s reasoning, and although it did not make her feel better, it was a reassuring thought. “I hadn’t considered that. That it might be some sort of divine intervention that this all fell into my lap, at a time when Stella D’Mare was in dire need of help,” she said, rather pensively. “It is fortunate for both Stella D’Mare and Galeyn. This kingdom did not have a good deal of allies upon which it could rely, in the past, from what I have learned so far… it will be good for these people, to connect with those who have lived and experienced the past century or so.”
One week. One more week, give or take a few days, and Stella D’Mare would execute its evacuation. It did strike her as rather odd and surprising that Chara had plans to relinquish her leadership to Alster, long enough for him to see the evacuees to safety, but she could not argue the logistics of that strategic decision. It did, however, plant a seed of worry in the pit of her gut that she would not be among the first refugees to arrive, but instead planned to arrive almost in the aftermath.
“Who will be seeing to your own safety?” The words fell from her tongue like an avalanche before she could stop herself from voicing her concerns aloud. “You are a survivor and a fighter… but know that I want to see you among Stella D’Mare’s refugees, Chara, if not sooner than later. I understand you need to oversee the safety of your people. After coming to understand what these people, in Galeyn, have experienced… even if I don’t fully understand it, I do find myself wanting to help them. But… not enough to compromise my chances of seeing you again.” Lilica’s voice fell, and her chin dropped to her chest, overburdened with the guilt that accompanied that statement. A glimpse as the kind of ‘leader’ she really was. “Just… promise me that you will also keep an eye out for yourself. We have both worked too hard and come too far, not to see this through…”
Conviction curled her free hand into a fist, and sped her heartbeat. Who was she kidding? She was not in love with Galeyn and its people, and no one could realistically expect her to be. Not yet, when she couldn’t see past Stella D’Mare plight enough to properly tend to Galeyn’s. But she was in love with Chara; and if she could make a difference for her, then for now, that was enough. “I don’t care about your views on your own leadership, or how effective or ineffective you think it might be.” The chthonic caster said in a steady voice. “You are still a symbol of strength to your people, Chara. And to me. I left you at a time when you needed me the most. I don’t expect you to forgive me for that anytime soon… but I do expect you to survive.” Can’t you see that it is only because of you, that I’ve managed to endure any of this? She wanted to tell her, but the Rigas head made it clear that the only thing that she wished to discuss was the evacuation. So Lilica forewent her flowery words of encouragement, in hopes that they might be able to talk more casually when all was said and done.
“Your place is with Stella D’Mare, right now, as is your mind. I understand that; I accept it, because this is everything you have worked towards. But if… if I don’t see you again,” Lilica swallowed, her throat feeling suddenly, uncomfortably, tight. “I don’t know… that I’ll ever be able to forgive you. Or myself.”
Just come back, she wanted to say, as a stray tear found a path down her cheek. If not to me, then for your own sake. I just want to see you again…
There was still hope. So long as the both of them were alive, then there was still hope, for another moment between them, someday. The dark mage lived and breathed for that day, whenever it might come; and she would hold onto that hope, for as long as they were alive.
Her consultation with Alster Rigas had left Teselin exhausted and feeling a little worse for the wear, a light throb in her temples and a tightness in her throat, both which she attributed to the stress of broaching the subject of her magic. She had thought a few more hours of rest would take the edge off of the anxiety that the meeting had left in her wake, but upon opening her eyes again, she felt just as confused and just as scared as ever. This is only the beginning, she thought to herself, raking shaky fingers through her dark hair as she slid her feet back into her boots. Alster will help me; he understands the magic. He can get me through this, until I see Vitali…
It was difficult to get that image out of her head. That violent nebula in a field of calm, greedily reaching for whatever it could take, untamed and guiltless… She had controlled it, if just for a moment, but that storm it had created had been terrible. And she wasn’t confident that she’d have been able to stop it, had the Rigas caster not pulled them out of the deeper parts of her being, where her magic lived and festered. She didn’t like it, didn’t like how it looked or felt, and frankly wished she could hand it off to him, or to someone more capable and well-versed in magic…
Stop wishing for the impossible, she chided herself, making her way for the door of her chambers. She hadn’t eaten yet, that day; perhaps a meal would help put her mind at ease, when her stomach wasn’t clawing at itself for nourishment.
Teselin left quickly, dark eyes unfocused and cast downward, such that she did not see the soldier not too far from her path, and collided with him straight on. “Oh…! I am so sorry!” She scrambled to apologize, looking up at a man who appeared to be twice her size, all height and muscle. “I wasn’t looking… I’m sorry. I should have been paying attention…”
Upon a closer look, she recognized the man--Haraldur, one of the people who had traveled with Alster Rigas from Eyraille. A friend… well, insomuch that she could trust Aslter, it stood to reason that she could trust this man, as well.
“I… I don’t drink, actually,” she chuckled nervously, and scratched the back of her neck. “I was sleeping. Or, I was trying to sleep, I should say… late night, and all. I’m sure you can appreciate that.”
Flashing a nervous smile, she could not think of a good reason to decline a walk and some fresh air. All things considered, it would be good for her. “I… I’d like that,” she told him, and followed him outside into the early afternoon sun. The brightness took her by surprise, and she squinted, shielding her eyes. “You came here with Alster last night,” she stated the obvious, as a pitiful means to start a conversation with an almost-stranger. “But we haven’t formally met, have we? My name is Teselin.” She offered her hand, which was dwarfed in comparison to his larger one. “And my job is to summon a tidal wave that will take out Mollengard’s militia, ultimately… if I can manage to pull that off. I understand you will be working with Hadwin and Elespeth? Along with the blonde warrior? That’s a brave mission for you to take on… more dangerous than even what I will be attempting. Atli would be happy to know we’re carrying on his plan.”
The young summoner’s face fell a bit, her dark eyes turning away from his face and toward the ground. “The war hasn’t even begun, and it is already taking lives… Atli was kind to me. So many people here, in Stella D’Mare, have been kind to me when they don’t have to be. And I am afraid they are all in great danger…”
“Just keep walking,” came his melancholic response, an echo of her assertion—without any of the conviction. Instead, it was garbled, the auditory equivalent of drowning. “After all this time, and already, we’re meant to separate. I’ve held out for months, pushing my mental state to the limits, so that I could appear...better than how I was actually feeling. Hoping to trick myself into well-being...in preparation for seeing you at last. I made it through; we’re together once more, but this swift exodus that distances us...it’s too cruel.” He set down her hand, and fiddled with the segmented digits of his prosthesis. “To be the one to make the judgement...of moving on, without the assurances of anyone’s safety...Again, there is no end to all this strife, Elespeth. No end to the war. I understand what must be done, but I wish none of this were the case. It’s an inane sentiment on my part, I know. Of course, the majority of people don’t want a crisis that splits them from contact with their loved ones. I can’t be unreasonable in denying the state of the world in which we live. This is...how things are now, Elespeth. Why am I so slow to accept the inevitability of destruction, after all I’ve seen and experienced? It’s time to shed away my naïveté, like a,” he hesitated, “serpent’s skin.”
“You know it is only temporary, Alster. It always has been; we’ve left one another before, and even when the situation was dire, we returned to one another.” Elespeth stroked his arm, trying her best to be reassuring, which was a difficult feat when even she had reservations about her part in this plan. “You said yourself, our stars are aligned. We are meant to be together. War has tried to tear us apart, time and again, but it has never succeeded. You’ve always come back to me, I’ve always come back to you… and I always will. I will always come back to you, Alster. This is why you need to believe that everything will be all right.”
It bothered her, seeing her fiance so defeated, when she had grown so accustomed to his optimism. Rather, it made her fear for herself, for he was and always had been her ray of hope in the clouds. Without him, she wouldn’t have been able to see past her brother’s death and find a way to move on, however difficult it might have been. She wouldn’t have had any faith in rebuilding Stella D’Mare or saving its people, were it not for his insistence that everything would work out in the end. But now, it was her turn to reflect that very hope back onto him… and she wasn’t sure that she could do it justice. “You just came back to me, again, last night,” she reminded him gently, her green eyes soft with unadulterated affection. “Every time I think the worst, Alster, you always prove me wrong. But our bond is indestructible… and for that, so are we.
“And, I believe in your, wholeheartedly. You won’t fall apart. Because I will always be here.” She pressed a hand to his chest, feeling the thrum of his heartbeat beneath her fingertips. So strong and steady, a reassuring rhythm that lulled her to sleep, at night. Perhaps the only heart left in the world that beat for her. “If you are distressed, call out to me. Find me in our bond. I will reach back; maybe not immediately, but your calls won’t go unheeded. I worked so hard to find a way around it when you tried to sever our connection; and I did. I still reached you. This is why you must believe that although I will not be there with you in person, you are not going about this alone, Alster Rigas. And neither am I. It is because of your strength that I know I will succeed.”
Her words, however genuine, did not seem to resonate with Alster, however. He spoke of diminishing, of becoming lesser, of not having enough left of him to save. Yet he couldn’t be more wrong; everything about him mattered to her, the same and the different. Certainly, she had fallen in love with gentle and uncertain Alster Rigas, one who would lay his life down for anyone he cared about. But that did not invalidate the new side of him; a colder, more determine side that she never thought she would see. It was still part of him; and so long as she was still bound to the Alster Rigas with a big heart, then that part of him would not diminish. “Every aspect of you is worth saving, Alster. All you are doing is leading a large band of desperate people to safety; I don’t believe that that task will compromise who you are in any possible way. The man you are talking about? That is the man I fell in love with. So, no.” Elespeth gave a firm shake of her head. “I do not believe that Alster must disappear. That Alster has saved my life, countless time. That is the Alster to whom I am bound. And I won’t let anything happen to that part of you--do you understand me?”
It was as if he wasn’t hearing her with his own ears. Like her words were reaching someone, something else, and they did not matter to the listener. The Atvanian warrior watched with fear and concern as he stood, not looking like… himself. Or at all human. Instead, his posture, his gait, the look in his eyes resembled something that was stuck in a human form, and uncomfortable because of it. Something that did not fit his skin, and was trying to shake free. “We all have shortcomings, Alster; myself included.” Elespeth stood when he did, afraid that he meant to leave--which seemed to be the case, as he made for the door. “Loving someone means loving their shortcomings as well as their virtues. Do you really think I agreed to marry you because I thought you were perfect? Entirely without flaws?” She held up her left hand, upon which Debine’s ring glimmered like the stars the tiny gems represented. “I agreed to marry you because I love everything that makes you who and what you are. Because you accepted me, my stubbornness, and all of my shortcomings. I love you for the whole of your being… not select pieces. Why is that suddenly so difficult for you to see?”
Elespeth’s heart dropped and her stomach churned at the sight of the red streaks down Alster’s neck. What had happened, in the past ten minutes? It was as if he’d regressed; broken down, all because of her part in this ludicrous plan to overthrow Captain Solveig and transfer control of the Forbanne over to Haraldur? She did blame him for being concerned; she couldn’t, for she was just as concerned for him, leading Rigases and D’Marians, alone, to safety. But her choice did not warrant… it did not warrant this.
“Alster!” She called as he stepped out of the room. She was on his heels in the corridor in just seconds, and grabbed him by the shoulders to halt him. Forgive me for this, she thought silently, before she drew back her hand, and delivered a sharp slap across his face. I didn’t strike him, the reasoning voice at the back of her mind assured her. I struck the thing controlling him. Manipulating him… I promised I would keep it in check. And she would, even if it hurt her to do so.
The former knight did not let go of his shoulders, and instead gave them a firm shake. Just to make sure he was really with her--the real Alster, the Alster who she had fallen in love with. Not the new part of him that struggled to integrate. That was, evidently, trying to assume control… “You are not a god. It isn’t your job to save people, to answer prayers, or to make miracles happen.” She spoke in a low tone, a severe one that left no room for negotiation. A dangerous tone that she hoped would startle him into listening to her. “And you do not get to speak for me. I know who I want, and what I want. And while I can accept this new part of you, because it is inevitable, I did not become engaged to it. I agreed to marry you, Alster. And it is up to you if you will honour that. Because if you are truly insistent in shedding your humanity… then you shed me along with it. I won’t be able to follow you, anymore, if I cannot glimpse at the man I fell in love with.”
Elespeth let go of his shoulders and took a step back. He looked startled, shaken, whether it was by the strike that had left his cheek a tender red, the authoritative tone of her voice, or the ultimatum. She wanted to believe that that was a good sign; that something had gotten through to him.
“So, what is your decision, Alster? Are you willing to work to temper these impulses, and accept my help in tempering them? To maintain the part of you that makes you who you really are?” Her voice softened, and though they were unbidden, tears glistened in her eyes like the diamonds on her hand. “Or are you really insistent on giving it all up… me, included?”
“You can call me awful for saying this. But I’d almost prefer you take the cowardly route… if it meant that I am guaranteed to see you, again.” Lilica sighed. It was no mystery, though; Chara knew well that the dark mage’s loyalty was to her, first and foremost, and not Stella D’Mare. “I will leave it up to you how you get here. Either by roc or steed, by foot, or some other fantastical means, so long as I can find you in Galeyn. I wish you didn’t have to relinquish the resonance stone… but I understand why it is necessary.”
Just hearing her voice, after weeks of longing to hear it, was enough to lift her spirits, and instill hope that all would turn out right, in the end. And a promise that Lilica would see her return… Almost out of nowhere came the desire to suddenly step up her activity in making Galeyn more accommodating. Somehow, housing refugees was not sufficient motivation, exactly. But knowing Chara’s promises, and knowing them to be solid and impenetrable, it was just the boost that she needed. Because she would not disappoint her lover by introducing her to a kingdom that only barely had it together.
“When you return to me, you can have whatever the hell you want. I will make it happen.” Lilica laughed--she laughed! For the first time in… in… When had been the last time she’d laughed? Felt this peal of hope and joy? “Right now, there is nothing grandiose about this place. It’s too disjointed and disoriented. But that will change. I will change it, for you. You’ll have whatever room you want, whatever food you want. Though, sadly, game is not common in these parts, so I only hope that your appetite won’t be for any meat beyond fish.”
And yet, Lilica knew well, at the back of her mind, that if Chara demanded a roast, she’d send for hunters to search beyond the periphery of Galeyn and make it happen. The dark mage had left the Rigas caster at a point when Chara had needed her, the most; she would not deny her anything. Never again. She would turn Galeyn inside-out to accommodate, and the kingdom would just have to forgive her for it if it disagreed. “I won’t disappoint you, Chara, if you don’t disappoint me,” she said, revelling in the sound of her lover’s laughter. It almost felt as though she was right there, with her… She could picture her laughing. The lines that formed near her mouth, the dimples in her cheeks. But she would see it, again. She had to believe that. “I’ll be waiting for you--and preparing for you. Rest-assured you won’t be walking into anything remotely unsuitable. You live the life of a queen, in Stella D’Mare; and so should you, here.”
The mention of Hadwin’s escape took Teselin by surprise. She faltered in her step, turning her face to the soldier with wide, dark eyes. “He escaped?! But how? I’ve seen Stella D’Mare’s dungeons. They are always under such tight surveillance; even magic is dampened so as not to prove to be a means of escape.” Unlike Chara last night, however, the young summoner did not seem upset about it; merely perplexed. “I suppose I cannot rightly blame him… I feel as though Chara was too hard on him. You see, he tried to help me, but… well, it turns out that I am a coward, and it did not end well.” Her smile very much resembled that of Alster Rigas’s, then and there. Self-deprecating, laughing at herself because it was easier than feeling down. “But he didn’t deserve to be locked up. I realize his methods are questionable, and he may be a tad unstable, but I don’t think that he is a bad person. He’s been kind to me, too… I hope that, if your cousin finds him, she will not use too much force. He is as integral to this plan as any of us, if we want it to be successful.”
Admittedly, Teselin was half-considering tuning him out, when he--among seemingly everyone else--expressed his concern for her part in all of this. To say it didn’t frighten her would be a lie; it terrified her. And yet, if she was successful… maybe she wouldn’t be afraid anymore. To her astonishment, however, Haraldur did not seem to be of the mind to try and deter her, as Elespeth, Alster, Hadwin, and, recently, even Chara had, of late. Of course he didn’t; he was, as he said, a soldier, and someone who understood when fighting was a necessity. She appreciated that much.
“I can’t help but feel as though people would be responding different to me, and my endeavor, if I was someone different.” She commented, shaking her head. “I’m young; yes, I understand that, and inexperienced, and cowardly, in a lot of ways. And I have this terrible power residing inside of me that I cannot for the life of me control. But I’m not as fragile as I look; I’ve never even been sick. Well… only once, and only for a few hours, but something about my magic has granted me this miraculous immunity to illness. I’ll do what I need to do, just as you will, and Chara will, and Alster and Elespeth, and Hadwin and your cousin will…”
Teselin started slightly when he grabbed her arm, and in the hardened look of his eyes, she saw fear. “...I understand,” came her soft reply. “I’ll be careful. I won’t get caught. And I won’t be alone, either. Chara has said that she will be with me while I summon the tidal wave. But so far, as it stands, I don’t believe they know anything about me. I’m just another stupid girl; I’ve given them no reason to suspect. And if they do try their hand at anything…” She pressed her lips together, and for a moment--not even a moment, but a handful of seconds--a familiar determination shone in her dark eyes. One not so unlike Vitali’s. “Then I will make them wish with their lives and souls that they hadn’t.”
The world outside the villa was at his mercy. Ahead, a collection of individuals who subjugated him as a youth, lashing him with cruel-tipped tongues more forked and venomous than any Serpent. He could out-venom them, spit and send them to their knees with acid burns, with the smell of sweet flesh roasting in the air. Their desperate apologies would ring in his ears, the melody oh so intoxicating, like the crunching of bones as a serpent’s body contracted and pulped its meal, in a surge of powerful digestive muscles. They could not keep him imprisoned for so long and expect him to lead without wrathful retribution. Only when you wish to save your lives do you come to me. When you are faced with no other option are you interested in relying on the being you enslaved. Do any of you deserve to be saved? That is for me to decide. I shall pass my judgment, and it will be swift and certain.
If she was being honest with herself, Elespeth was taking a gamble. The truth was she had no idea what she was dealing with. She hadn’t been present when Alster had sealed his bond with the Serpent; and even if she had been, she wasn’t magically adept, and didn’t know what it entailed, or how it has intrinsically changed him. Didn’t know the extent of what he was fighting, when it would surface, or how he fought it… and for all she knew, this ultimatum wouldn’t mean anything to him. It could be that all that this would accomplish would be casting herself from his life, indefinitely, if this sudden onset of a god-delusion ultimately mattered more to the new Alster Rigas…
The Atvanian warrior searched Alster’s face, her heart hammering in her chest, a steady thrum that sounded in her inner ears. He appeared shocked, uncertain of exactly what had happened, but otherwise his familiar (yet suddenly, unfamiliar) face revealed no real affect in response to what she had said and done. Just like that? Her mind and heart raced, in wait for him to say something--anything. One moment, he’s there, and the next… he is gone? For how long? What… what if he doesn’t come back?
Her vision blurred from the tears gathering in her eyes, such that she didn’t notice when his face changed. When the steeliness of his eyes faded and yielded to the azure warmth that she was so used to seeing. It wasn’t until she heard her name on his tongue, the change in his voice and demeanor, the arms that drew her into an embrace. Elespeth couldn’t hold back any longer: her tears flowed freely down her cheeks as she leaned into Alster’s embrace. He was back… he was him again. Somehow, she’d still gotten through to him; she only wish she knew how, exactly, or what had turned the tables for him.
“I don’t… know. You weren’t making any sense. You just weren’t… you.” The former knight breathed, her shoulders shaking in quiet sobs. “I’m sorry I made light of this, Alster. I didn’t realize… I didn’t realize how severe it was. I thought you meant that the Serpent influenced your thoughts. Not that… that it infiltrated you, completely. I was so afraid you were lost, for a moment…”
She held him tight for a moment that extended into another, and another. Time and again, Elespeth had dreaded losing him to the hands of death. Never in her wildest dreams would it have occurred to her that she might lose him to… well, himself. Or the new part of himself that had surfaced, and that was inevitably part of his new gestalt whole. Suddenly, she felt wracked with doubt, and uncertain as to whether she could reconcile it. Much though she didn’t want to doubt him, as much as she wanted to believe in him, and that he was strong enough to overcome anything… what would become of him, when the power of Stella D’Mare was in his hands?
“Alster… I want you to listen to me.” The warrior pulled away, but her hands remained on his shoulders. She met his eyes, now clear and understanding, back to kind-hearted caster she knew and loved. “I love you. That is all that you need to understand. Understand that I love you, and that I believe in you. I understand… why you had to do what you did. That Mariana’s curse was killing you. And if I’d been there, if I’d known, I’d have encouraged you to make that pact, myself. But I will not lose you to something else, entirely. And if I can’t reach you… if our bond isn’t strong enough to pull you back to yourself remotely…”
She looked at her hand; her left hand, one that bore two connections to the man in her arms: the engagement ring, and the raised, pink scar on her palm. A scar that Alster now only had symbolically. Was their bond really not strong enough? What if… was there possibly a way to make it stronger? More infallible? Most importantly… could it become stronger than that he had formed with the Serpent?
Her thought went unfinished, as Alster shook off his doubt and reaffirmed his belief that they would make it through yet another ordeal. Much though she wanted to partake in that renewed faith… she was ashamed to admit that she was, herself, uncertain. And perhaps for the first time since realizing just how in love she was with Alster Rigas, she could not say without a shadow of doubt that they would inevitably find a way to maintain stability in light of this new obstacle. However, she wouldn’t say as much. Not right now, when he--when they--so desperately needed this hope.
Managing a smile, Elespeth nodded, too caught up in the relief that he was back to his old self--for now. Of course there was the threat of it happening again, of losing him to another foreign, alien side over which he had so little control; it was inevitable. But for now, he was one-hundred percent Alster Rigas, the man who she loved and would marry. And if they were to be parted through the necessity of war, yet again, then she wanted to cherish every moment she had with him, until then. Chara had already hinted on several occasions that she wanted to act sooner than later, ideally within the week, before Mollengard could catch wind of the fact that they were formulating a plan… Minutes like this were limited.
Following him back inside of Chara’s villa, she said to him, in earnest, “We’ve already survived everything else. Messino, the Serpent, my own family and kingdom… and your trials, following Lilica to a place that might not have existed, at all.” More than anything, she spoke to convince herself, in hopes that putting words to the feelings might solidify them. “This won’t break us. It won’t break you… I promise it won’t. Our bond…” Elespeth took his prosthetic hand in her own, looked at the scar that marred its otherwise pristine surface. “Alster, is it possible… to reaffirm it? To make it--”
Once again, her thought went unfinished, when Chara swept in, all pride and grace and… something else. A peculiar lightness to her step that the former knight had not seen for quite some time. Not since Lilica had left the city. In a matter of moments, Alster had shifted his train of thought from the guilt-ridden, terrified topic of the Serpent’s influence over his thoughts and actions, back to something that she vaguely recalled discussing the night before. Admittedly, the majority of what had imprinted on her mind from last night occurred after they had shed their clothes, making it difficult to think back to what they had discussed prior to the lengthy bout of passionate love-making. The ceremony… After everything that was happening, in Stella D’Mare, in Galeyn, and to him, he was still insistent on taking that first step toward their forever: ensuring that her lifespan, from this day onward, would mirror Alster’s. That neither of them would die of natural causes without the other. Not for a very, very long time.
Of course, Elespeth was not so foolish as to think that this would occur without argument or reasoning, especially if Chara was the one who must sanction it. The Rigas Head no doubt had a myriad of reasons to refuse their request, ranging from petty, to vaguely relevant, depending on how she chose to spin her words. Like Alser, she had taken a deep breath, and prepared to make a rebuttal… except, the opportunity was entirely unnecessary.
The Atvanian warrior’s jaw dropped, and Alster took the words right out of her mouth. Whatever had become of Chara, between last night and just now, it had certainly worked in their favor. The Rigas Head was now in possession of more than one resonance stone, according to Alster; one which linked her directly to Lilica. She couldn’t help but wonder if she had made use of that stone, and if that was what had incited this change in her. Delightful as it was, Elespeth knew that Chara Rigas’s moods, no matter how pleasant, were always transient. So better to make her promise now, so that it would be harder for her to justify changing her mind later.
But… tonight? “I… don’t know that I have anything suitable to wear,” she confessed, tinting a little red in the face. “I didn’t realize the formality of it… although, I probably should have anticipated it. As well as it being heavily attended…” Her stomach twisted nervously. Alster was about the only person who insisted she had a place here; Chara merely tolerated her. Even if the council did blindly agree, there was bound to be a good deal of silent dissent. “Well, if Haraldur is to be there… then everyone might as well be. The Dawn warrior, and the young summoner. I… that will be a lot of people, and only a few friends, among the numbers.” She raised a hand to her temple, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. “But if this is our only opportunity for an indeterminate amount of time… then we’ll do it. Tonight. Chara…”
She met the Rigas Head’s eyes, with a solemn and genuine look of gratitude… and, of apology. “Thank you. That you’ve agreed to this means more to me--to us--than I can properly express…”
“Better?” Teselin squinted her eyes at him, as if uncertain as to what he meant. Finally, she shook her head. “No… not better. Trusting, maybe, but… I have to be. I have to have hope. Not everyone is concerned for my well-being, you must understand.” Stuffing her hands into the pockets of her long tunic, the young summoner looked ahead of her, without focusing on anything in particular. “Terrible, awful things have happened because of me. Not for any intent to harm, but just… just because I exist. The last village that I tried to make a home, I worked odd jobs, primarily as a healer’s assistant. I tried to ignore my magic, not to pay it any heed, but it refused to not be heard. Something happened, one night… I still don’t know what, exactly, but this flatland village that seldom saw thunder or lightning storms was suddenly struck from the sky. As a result, fire wreaked havoc on it, and burnt a good third of its prone buildings. People were badly injured. I don’t know if anyone was killed; I was afraid to ask. But, they suspected me. Sensed I had power. They incarcerated me, and I think they’d have killed me, if I hadn’t escaped… and that’s when I ended up in Stella D’Mare.”
Her mouth twisted into a wan smile, and she shook her head. “I was desperate, I’ll admit. I’d been traveling for weeks with little food and water, and I begged Chara to give me refuge. She agreed… in a lot of ways, she saved my life. I had to risk trusting another stranger, or I might not be here, now. So you must understand…” She turned to him, and her obsidian eyes were clouded with something heavy and somber. “If I don’t have hope… then I don’t have anything. I cannot relinquish it, even at risk of trusting the wrong person. I have to believe that all will turn out well, in the end.”
It took her by surprise when, unexpectedly, the soldier brought up her brother. He, too, had crossed paths with the infamous necromancer? But of course… Vitali somehow always ended up in the lives of people who despised him the most. She couldn’t help but flinch when Haraldur spoke of his former (and current) desire to kill her brother. It wasn’t something she hadn’t heard before, but nonetheless, it never failed to shake her. Vitali, in a sense, was always in danger… and always managed to find a way out. “I can’t… I won’t make excuses for what he has done. I know that he has done wrong. I would apologize on his behalf, but I know it would mean nothing to you.” Her voice went soft, and she had taken her hands out of her pockets and folded them across her chest, as if to ward off a chill. “All that I can tell you is that he is a product of his up-bringing… if you could call it that. A result of his circumstances; as are we all. I think things could have been very different for him, had he had people to trust at a very sensitive time in his life. It does not excuse what he has done, I realize that. But I understand how and why he is who he is.”
Maybe he hadn’t been a doting and loving brother to her; and maybe she was a fool for trusting him, at all, for searching for him so tirelessly. Teselin couldn’t explain the connection she felt toward the necromancer. Perhaps it had to do with the similarity in their magic, or that single incident where he had saved her as a child had really resonated with her, more than she’d thought. But she could not ignore the incessant feeling that she needed him; that if she ever wanted to make sense of that dark chasm of power inside of her, he was the answer. “I know it wasn’t your choice, but… thank you. For not killing. I probably cannot make you understand, but he is possibly the only person who can really, truly help me. Our magic is similar. I know that, once, he suffered because of his… but he learned to control it. I need him to teach me, before… before it destroys me.”
She looked on, over the horizon at the fleet of ships that had caught Haraldur’s gaze. They were a dire threat, that she knew. And yet… they did not scare her. Not as much as the notion of what her magic, unbridled, could eventually do to her. She would never forget the image that Hadwin had shown her. “I’ve already witnessed things more terrifying than Mollengard,” she said to him. Not to dismiss his cautions, but for the sake of honesty. “I’m aware of the danger, and I’ll take it into consideration. But they aren’t who I’m afraid of. And I have come too far, and sought my brother for too long, to be stopped by them.”
Chara merely grunted, shook her head, and crossed her arms over her chest, hiding, as best she could, her amusement over Elespeth and Alster’s complementary reactions. “I know you have nothing suitable to wear, warrior. Even if you did, I am certain it would be unacceptable to our Rigas standards. We shall supply all that you need. Rather, I shall supply it.” She shifted her gaze to the door and uncrossed her arms. “I need to make the proper arrangements, especially as this is such short notice. When I return, Elespeth, make sure you bathe, first. No matter the current state of our affairs, I will not welcome a foul-smelling woman into my family. As this is an open ceremony, anyone is free to attend, so you will have to look presentable for the public. In fact, I require it.” By now, Chara had relocated to the foyer, and was slipping on her boots and light cloak. “We are starved for any light of hope right now. Stella D’Mare is a city of celebrations; this ceremony will be a reminder of our roots. Therefore, I will demand that it is up to all standards, and more. It will be a bittersweet gathering, the culmination of identity, and what we’ll be leaving behind. This will be our remembrance space; where we can all say goodbye.”
Teselin nodded her head in confirmation, eyes focused on the ground. It was almost symbolic, her tendency to look down at her own feet, than to look up and face what was in front of her. Hope could be like that; both a blessing as well as a curse. Enduring, uplifting, but also, often very misleading, blinding you to the truth of what really was. “No. Nothing catastrophic has happened since I came to Stella D’Mare,” she said. “Mind you, I felt very weak and exhausted when I arrived, and on top of that, Chara kept me in her dungeons that first night. I don’t blame her one bit--she didn’t know who I was or if I could be trusted, especially since I am related to a man she very much despises. But Stella D’Mare’s dungeon dampens and repels magic, and it turns out that blocking the reach of my magic also makes me very ill. I became afflicted overnight, and recovered over the new next few days. For all I know, that prevented anything catastrophic from the get-go. But where the tidal wave is concerned… well, it has yet to be seen what becomes of all of that.”
She couldn't fault him for taking an opposing perspective to her own, any more than she could fault him for his list for vengeance toward her brother. Circumstances, as she’d spoken to her brother’s behalf, changed people. Formed them, molded them, wore them scars that influenced their thoughts and decisions indefinitely. It was a wonder, after what she had already experienced in her short time among the living, that she was not embittered and cold. Growing up without care or attachment to any secure figured, perpetually on edge about what mayhem her magic would cause next… Teselin was an anomaly. Or, perhaps, simply stubbornly insistent that the best was yet to come. She just had to work harder for it--and she would find her happy end, her solution. Hers was currently awaiting her in Galeyn, despite Haraldur’s cautionary note. He might be right, reasonably so… but she had to believe otherwise. Because there was no room and no time to break down.
“I’m sorry for what happened to your wife--well, your former wife. And your current wife, as well…” She offered, if for no other reason than because he brought it up; brought Vitali up. “I can respect your wishes. I won’t tell you about Vitali’s whereabouts, and I will tell him to keep his distance from you. Although I suspect he is already aware of your disdain for him, and is smart enough to know to keep away.”
She shrugged her shoulders, and while she couldn't share in his humourless delight at her brother’s condition, she did say, “I can’t speak for him myself, but Alster informs me that he has been… different, since becoming acquainted with the woman named Tivia. For the better, I hear. I can't say that it is true, but Alster shares in your disdain for Vitali, and I cannot see him lying to simply placate me. It doesn't atone for what he has already done, but… it is reassuring, to say the least.”
Looking up for the first time since they had begun their trek, Teselin started as they came face to face with a stranger who appeared to be looking for them. Based on his regal attire and the pointed tips of his ears, he was undeniably a Rigas. The man addressed Haraldur, and then, to her surprise, her as well. It still astounded her that anyone outside of Chara’s inner circle knew her name. “Why? Is something wrong?” She followed up after Haraldur’s question, immediately thinking the worst. Had something happened? Was Chara calling an emergency meeting to execute their plan, or dissolve it altogether?
That was fortunately not the case, and the true nature of it stunned the young summoner. “Elespeth is becoming a Rigas? But it is… not a wedding?” She was left scratching her head, unsure of what exactly was taking place at Rigel Rigas’s tomb at sunset. Haraldur seemed in the know, however, and by his appraisal, it was just as significant. “A celebration, during a time like this? Well… I suppose I cannot blame them. Everyone needs hope and a reason for celebration, ever during a time of war. You should consider yourself lucky, to experience so many celebrations in such a small amount of time, Haraldur. Who knows when we will have a chance to be happy, again?”
The remainder of the day passed in a blur of voices, sounds, scents, and hair-pulling. Frankly afraid not to follow Chara’s instructions, Elespeth departed to bathe almost as soon as she Rigas head left to get started on preparations for that evening. She shouldn't have been surprised at the amount of attention she received on Chara’s orders, suddenly finding herself inundated with attendants to ready her for the ceremony. A few presented her with a billowing dress, which shone silver and blue depending on how the light hit it, and another few teased and combed the tangles from her dark hair. They weren't exactly gentle, but with the weeks of neglect her chestnut tresses had experienced, she knew that they couldn’t afford to be. They adjusted the gown to her measurements, fetched her sandals that climbed as high as her calves, and presented her with earrings and a necklace that dangled like a cascade of water. After the painstaking hour it took to tame and style her hair, yet another attendant brought the ornate case containing the glittering tiara that Alster had purchased for their wedding, and arranged it carefully atop her head.
When they finally left, and she had a moment to breathe, the Atvanian warrior couldn't quite reconcile what she saw in the mirror. A pale-faced, tired-looking warrior in attire that simply didn't suit her… Who did she think she was, assuming she could pull this off and look as naturally elegant as Chara? Well, she didn't have the final verdict, anyway.
Taking a breath, she left the bathing chamber, to find the Rigas caster ready and waiting for her. Well, at least pure disgust and disappointment didn't register on her face. “Presentable?” The former knight grinned and shook her head. “If that is as good as it gets, then I’ll take it as A compliment, Chara.”
When the proud Rigas head instructed her to take a seat at the vanity, she obeyed, but not without a brief look of concern. “I don't think I've ever applied paint of any kind to my face in my life,” She confessed, tugging on her lower lip with her teeth as she watched Chara removed small pots of arrayed colours--red, black, and blue, and all shimmering somewhat--from the drawer. “So I am going to be honest with you and say that this makes me nervous. But if you’re taking it upon yourself to do it, then I know you well enough to feel confident that you are not one to display your skills unless they are impeccable… and for that, I trust you with this.”
So she put her vanity in the Rigas head’s capable hands, trying to ignore the discomfort of brushes scraping across her cheekbones, her eyelids, and her lips. Tried to ignore the tightness in her throat at the memory of the last time someone had made her up to be presentable. The memory of Priane, dressing her well, weaving her hair into an intricate braid on the night before the day that she was supposed to die at her older brother’s hands…
Elespeth waited for a moment where Chara turned away to dip a brush into a pot of exquisite blue and exhaled a shaky breath, hoping she wouldn’t notice. But of course, little to nothing surpassed the Rigas caster’s attention, and she frowned, naturally thinking it a slight on her abilities. The warrior blinked slowly. “It isn't you. It’s… the last time someone tended to me, this way, it was my younger sister. On the night before I was supposed to die at my brother’s hands… the night Alster saved me.” And the night before my brother died in my stead. “Forgive me. It just… makes me remember things that I would rather forget.”
Regardless of the feelings it dredged up, Elespeth sat compliant and patiently as Chara painted her eyes and lips, shaped her eyebrows, and lined her eyelids with kohl. When at last the Rigas head stepped back and instructed her to turn and look in the mirror… that was when she saw it had all come together. Her eyes were framed with a breath-taking ocean blue, and widened with kohll along the upper and lower lids, giving them the appearance of being larger, more elegant. Her cheeks were more defined, eyebrows arched symmetrically, and her lips flushed a coral shade of red. She didn't look like herself, but rather, an evolved, ascended version of herself. She looked like a Rigas.
“It’s… remarkable, Chara.” There was no trace of sarcasm in her voice, only amazement. She no longer looked as though she didn't belong in that gown or that jewelry. She looked the part, and who better to make her into the image of a Rigas than the Rigas head, herself? “I didn't think it was possible to make me look… well, even remotely elegant. I’d say you’ve accomplished the impossible.”
But she wasn't sure that Chara heard her. She was looking at the vanity, lost in a thought, in a memory. She didn't look back at the Atvanian warrior when she declared she was finished, and that Elespeth could take her leave. The former knight hesitated, but obliged her, and made her way for the door. She had just stepped outside the bathing chambers when she heard the sobbing. Casting a glance over her shoulder, she was shocked to find the Rigas caster collapsed on the vanity, her shoulders shaking with heavy sobs. And that was when Elespeth knew that despite Clara’s desire to grieve in private, she could not leave her alone in a moment of such devastating sorrow. Nobody deserved to be along with their sorrow.
Turning around, she made her way back into the bathing Chambers. “Chara… we will come back, here. It will be ours again.” Suspecting the proud Rigas head would not accept an embrace from the likes of her, she placed gentle hands on her shoulders. “We will fight not to lose Stella D’Mare. I… understand what you’re feeling. It’s how I felt when I left Atvany. The difference is, I can never return to Atvany. But we will return to Stella D’Mare. We will not lose it to Mollengard. It isn't the end.”
But she knew well that there was nothing she could say or do that would change the way that it felt to walk away from your home, uncertain of what you would find, or when you would see it again--but at least, she could let the Rigas caster know that she wasn’t alone. For now, though, she likely wanted to be alone, so the Atvanian warrior took her leave. She found Alster waiting for her in the other room, and saw the way his jaw dropped when he saw her. Chara was right; this new look on her was to his taste.
“You have Chara to thank for that,” She told him, a blush creeping into her sculpted cheeks. “She and the attendants had to work hard to make me presentable. This is definitely not natural, so… don’t expect me to dazzle you often.” She chuckled, and shook her head.
“Chara… I think she is taking this exodus to heart. It’s breaking her.” She mentioned to him, in a softer tone. She figured he already suspected as much, but it was good to have him in the know, just in case. “Whatever her behaviour tonight, she’s doing us a huge favour… I say this more for myself than to you, but we should tread carefully with her. She isn't asking for sympathy or for support, but I think she needs it.”
Sigrid couldn't really comprehend the significance or importance of a “naming ceremony”, or why her presence was required at it when she hadn't even spent two days in Stella D’Mare as of yet. But as she was a guest in this exquisite albeit wartorn city, she wasn't about to sully her imagine by refusing the invitation--even if the idea of yet another celebration set her on edge, a little. Following the sounds of voices and bodies, the Dawn warrior had no difficulty finding the site of Rigel Rigas’s tomb, where the ceremony was to take place. Immediately upon her arrival, she looked around for a familiar face--Haraldur, in particular, as he was her most comfortable acquaintance. She couldn't imagine that they would invite the likes of her, a stranger, and not that of someone who was a proven ally. Nonetheless, she had dressed well and tamed her blonde hair into twin ringlet curls that fell over either one of her shoulders. If this was a significant event, then she was determined to treat it as such, namely out of guilt for not looking her best during her own cousin’s wedding, no matter how impromptu it had been.
The newly-crowned Sorde prince likely was among the growing crowd, but his face was not the first familiar one to come into her view. Sigrid raised her eyebrows as she found herself greeted none other than the wolf-shifter--admittedly, the last person she’d have expected to see.
“I know this is technically a public event, but something tells me you didn't receive an invitation.” She said to him, shaking her head. “So what brings you hear, shape-shifter? Trying to crash the party before it has begun?”
Under the impression that she was alone, Chara hunched over the vanity and buried her head into her arms, letting her cries wrench from her body in loud spurts of agony. She cried for the city, for the ghost it had become, for its unknown future, for the people she was forcing to flee, for the stubborn few D’Marians who refused to budge, and for the series of events which led them to such a drastic decision. She could have done more for the city; she could have prevented this worst case scenario. If she were a more capable leader, a craftier one, with a magical inheritance to rival Alster, perhaps their alternate present would look different, more favorable. Or, if another Rigas head stepped forward in place of her, hells, if Cyprian cinched control and yanked the position out of her hands, it was possible that Stella D’Mare could be saved, and not discarded like a broken toy and burned for little warmth.
