The Arcane War

by Tam Chronin

  His voice had gotten louder as he talked, and the last echoed uncomfortably around the room for a minute. He winced, especially when he saw that Byrek had cringed at the volume.

  "I'm sorry," Krecek went on, quiet again. "I've spent my life around humans, convinced of my superiority and maturity. Three months back among the elves, and I feel like an immature freak. They didn't even have to look at me for me get defensive. I began to walk around apologizing for existing."

  "You don't have to defend yourself to me," Byrek said gently. "I understand more than you know."

  "Thank you," Krecek said. They shared silence for a while.

  "Why isn't Keevan with you?"

  "He's gathering the hobgoblins. He'll come."

  There was a longer silence after that.

  Finally, "Aral didn't want to be around me," Krecek finally blurted out. "She was happy to see me, but—"

  "You know why," Byrek said. "It's the same reason a room was saved for you. Alone."

  Bitterness stabbed through Krecek's heart.

  "She doesn't trust me, still. No one does."

  "The goddess you served still dances behind your eyes." Byrek sighed and put a hand on Krecek's shoulder. "Aral will never see past that. Not after what happened to her at Porrellid's hands."

  "I killed him. For her." Even to his own ears, he sounded like a child, petulant that the world wasn't fair.

  "I'm sure she appreciates that." Byrek looked offensively patient. "She's intelligent. She knows what she owes you. But one can never owe their heart to another. Love is not a transaction. She's talked about it. More than once. How she feels about you. She's afraid of you. So long as the goddess is part of you, Aral won't touch you. Not willingly. Not the way you want."

  Krecek took a deep breath. Nodded. "It's still all worth it," he said, voice small.

  There was a mix of pity and understanding in Byrek's eyes.

  Krecek couldn't face it.

  "I'm finished here." He stood, nearly slipping on the tile as he numbly left the tub.

  He dried himself and dressed himself, thoughts so loud that the rest of the world receded from his mind.

  "It's still all worth it," he said again as he closed himself in his room. "It's all been worth it."

  It had to be.

  Within days of Krecek's arrival, Northern and Southern elves began to arrive. There were nearly a thousand of each.

  There were grumbles and complaints among the humans at first. More mouths meant less food.

  Well, it should have.

  Elves wove magic into everything, making plenty out of scarcity.

  Once the elves had laid their magical groundwork the sprites, dwarves, merfolk, and many others began to gather there as well.

  Aral found herself overwhelmed. Every moment of every day was taken by something needing her attention.

  She was the one everyone turned to.

  Others advised, but her decisions were always final.

  Her word was the word that everyone looked to.

  It wasn’t a mantle that Aral felt sure she deserved. It wasn't a decision she had made for herself. Then again, she didn't shrink from it, either.

  People followed her. When she asked for solutions, people gave them. Then, she made a decision. So far that's all leadership was to her.

  Simple, if not easy.

  Half of her had expected Krecek to take control, but he had all but disappeared as soon as he had arrived.

  She found him in his room, alone, curled up around a book.

  "I wanted to talk to you."

  Krecek looked at her, wary.

  Deep breath. This was important.

  "Of the two of us, you have more leadership experience."

  She blurted the words out.

  Spewing them forth like word vomit.

  "Now that you're with us, fully, well, you've more than earned your position here. If you would like to take over leadership of—"

  "Me?" Krecek stopped her with his laughter. "Lead?"

  It wasn't a kind, polite laugh. It was sharp as a sword, with barbs that caught on their way back out.

  "Well, you're older. And, like I said, you're experienced."

  He sobered quickly. "This isn't something you can just pass along to whoever you wish. The people will follow who they will. They've chosen you. Perhaps they showed up out of curiosity for what they'd heard, but they're staying through a harsh winter for your sake."

  "But what if I mess up? What if I do something wrong?"

  He scooted to the foot of his bed and offered her a spot to sit.

  It embarrassed Aral how long she hesitated before she did so, but she did.

  She also made a mental note to have a chair moved in here later.

  Krecek's lips stretched into a thin smile. "You've tried to pass this to Byrek already? And Davri?"

  She bowed her head, ashamed that he was right.

  "Don't be so eager to throw this at someone else. If you make a mistake, you learn from it and move on. You'll never be perfect."

  He was right, of course.

  "I might be tempted, but I could never accept." Krecek leaned toward her.

  Aral flinched away.

  "That's why I can't lead these people."

  It would have been nice to pretend she didn't know what he was talking about. To pretend there was nothing wrong. That he was still her old friend.

  "It's like she's looking at me, too."

  "I know."

  "I mean, it's not...every other high priest I'd ever met, I felt, well, intimidated. Overwhelmed. But that was normal. But, since Porrellid—"

  "I know," Krecek said again, more forcefully this time. "Aral, I understand. I think I understand it better than you do. It seemed like such a gift, once."

  "A gift?"

  "Before I met you, yes. Not as much, now." He stood, gestured to the door. "You should go. You have responsibilities to see to."

  She could hear the unspoken words beneath it.

  Please don't torture me with what I can't have.

  Aral stood, but she hesitated.

  "Be my advisor. You're wise, you're learned, you—"

  "No," he said. "You already have more from others."

  "Please?"

  He paused.

  Breathed.

  "I'll think about it."

  Days went by.

  Aral refused to leave Krecek alone with his thoughts. She sent others to ask his opinions on one matter or another. When given the slightest excuse she called for him to give advice.

  A week later he relented, spending time at her side. A show of trust and confidence neither of them really felt.

  It didn't take much time for Aral to take comfort in his presence.

  So long as she didn't look at his eyes.

  False spring came upon them.

  Refugees were eager to start planting or to move on. Many of them wanted to get away from Hodarian's Bay before battles found their way here.

  Aral had lived here long enough to know better. "Anything planted now will die. Anyone who tries to travel from here will find the passes choked with snow again within a week."

  One more crisis to handle on top of all the rest.

  She was always busy, always answering some question or another, always listening to or reading some report or spell or taking something into consideration. It was remarkable she got any sleep at night.

  She realized one night as she walked to her room that she hadn’t had time to eat all day. She was so exhausted that she wavered in the hall, torn between two conflicting needs, when Davri came up behind her and steadied her.

  "Something wrong?" he asked. "You look dead on your feet."

  "I haven’t eaten," Aral said, but she was still looking at her bedroom with longing.

  “Come,” Davri said. He wrapped an arm around her and led her to his room instead of hers. He ushered Byrek and Naran out, telling them to go sleep in Krecek’s room just this night. "He’s lonely, and he’s t
he only one with a room to himself. Now go. Aral needs to rest without some idiot pounding on the door in three hours."

  She slumped against him in relief as they left. "Thank you." She collapsed onto the bed he steered her toward. She left her feet hanging off the edge with a silent promise that she’d take her shoes off in a minute.

  Davri took off her shoes and started massaging her feet.

  She moaned in thanks. "That feels so good."

  He smiled at her. "Roll into your back. No, feet still...there. This is as warm as I could make it, without lighting a fire," he said.

  Aral was confused, then he set her feet gently into a basin of warm water.

  It felt heavenly.

  "You're going to spoil me," she said.

  "Someone needs to. It can't all be hard work and business, day in and day out. You'll forget to live."

  "I had that long enough," she said, thinking of Raev upstairs in the house, waiting on Bretav the way he used to wait on Aral.

  "You didn't have so much weighing you down, then."

  Aral said nothing. She stared at the ceiling. Davri continued working the tension out of her feet and her legs. He dried her feet off and washed his hands.

  "You'll have to sit up for this part," he said.

  Aral protested with a disappointed groan, but he sat down next to her and pulled her up against him.

  "Here, I’ll sit behind you, like a chair. You can lean against me and eat comfortably." He put a leg on each side of her, supporting her so she could relax while she ate.

  He offered her bread, water, and an apple. It wasn't much, but it didn't entail going all the way to the kitchen.

  "This is just what I needed," Aral said, twisting around to kiss him on the cheek before she ate. She managed to finish the apple and ate half the small loaf before she completely drifted off to sleep, safe in Davri’s arms.

  She woke up just a few hours later. It felt so good to held while she slept. It was such a familiar feeling, and in a sleepy haze she didn't stop to think whose arms surrounded her. Something was strange, though. She thought at first it was just from being overdressed. She undid the laces of her dress and wriggled out of it.

  That's when she realized.

  The man beside her was too thin to be Raev.

  Darkness hid her blush, but couldn't spare her the feeling of mortification. Her thin shift was hardly enough for sharing a bed with a man. But, Davri was fast asleep. If they were both under the blankets it might still pass for modesty.

  And, honestly, wasn't she past that? An entire city had seen her naked.

  She settled back into bed and waited for sleep.

  And waited.

  Her mind raced, though, clearing away even the gentle tug at her eyelids.

  She was in a strange bed with a strange man she had always been attracted to.

  With a thrill of apprehension mixed with anticipation she reached to his sleeping form and explored the strange curves and planes of him. She felt the compact strength of his muscles as she ran her fingers over his arms and across the flatness of his belly. His chin was covered in rough stubble instead of the full beard she had known the last few years.

  Aral realized she liked the feel of it. She imagined the friction it would cause if they kissed.

  He stirred a little.

  She stopped. Left her hand still upon his cheek.

  Even her own breath seemed too loud to her ears. She knew the pounding of her heart wouldn't wake him, but she held her breath until he relaxed again.

  Davri shifted a bit, but his breath was still slow and even.

  Still asleep.

  She pulled her hand away, but only for a moment.

  He was shirtless, and a sudden spark of mischief spurred her to discover just what other articles of clothing might be missing.

  Or, more realistically, to find out where his pants began.

  She grinned as she found the waistband, low upon his hips.

  "Aral?"

  He grabbed her wrist, sounding sleepy as he said her name.

  Oh. Shit. Caught.

  "I’m sorry." She pulled her hand away, rolling over onto her other side. "I got curious. And carried away. I didn’t mean to wake you."

  Shit, shit, shit. As soon as she'd realized it wasn't Raev, she should have clamped her eyes shut and kept her hands to herself. Instead, she'd gone too far, rubbing her hands all over while he slept.

  "I don’t mind," Davri said.

  That surprised her.

  "I liked it."

  "You did?"

  "Very much." He moved closer to her and placed a gentle hand on her waist. "I wasn’t sure you were aware what you were doing. If you were sleep-groping."

  Aral started to relax. "Your body is so different. My curiosity got the better of me."

  "I see," he murmured in her ear. "Is your curiosity satisfied?"

  Did he want this, too?

  One way to find out.

  "No," she said. "I want to know...what it's like to kiss you. And more."

  Davri pressed his body against hers and kissed her on the neck. "How much more?"

  "Everything more."

  He nibbled her neck playfully, and his hand slid downward to pull up her shift.

  She gasped and turned around to face him. His stubble was rough when he kissed her. It left a bit of a friction burn behind, but she didn't mind in the least. It was more of a thrill to feel that burn in places more intimate. Aral thought to herself that this wasn't at all like being with Raev. Davri was rough, playful, and passionate. It was awkward between them at times, but it was also fun.

  By morning, they were both in a better frame of mind.

  The change in Aral and Davri’s demeanor did not escape the notice of both Byrek and Krecek the next morning. The two of them exchanged looks, understanding each other for the briefest of moments.

  Davri kissed Byrek on the cheek. He must not have known how strong elvin hearing was, because his whispers were like spoken words to Krecek.

  "We were both mostly asleep. She asked and I couldn't tell her no."

  Byrek whispered something in return, too soft for Krecek to hear.

  "No. You know I love only you."

  Another whisper from Byrek.

  "Yes, it was just for fun. And, it was fun. To make it up to you, what if the three of us..."

  Krecek left the room before he could overhear any more.

  Instead of having someone to sympathize with over the jealousy burning within him, Krecek stood on the outside, watching the three of them grow closer.

  Days went by.

  It was impossible not to notice.

  He even overheard Thera and Bretav giggling over it, until they noticed him and went silent.

  Everyone went silent around him.

  Even meetings and battle reports were given with hesitation if he was in the room, despite Aral's assurances.

  The three people he'd hoped would be able to accept him, despite the choices he'd made of necessity, choices that had aided them all this time…those three people were too wrapped up in exploring whatever triad they had formed to give him a second glance.

  The three people who were his only three friends.

  Was solitude to be his reward for the sacrifices he had made?

  No.

  He reminded himself that he hadn’t done any of this for any sort of a reward. He was trying just to help others.

  He was trying just to make things right. That was what he wanted to do. That was what he wanted to accomplish. Success would be its own reward.

  Oh, but it was bitter and hard to watch Davri and Byrek enjoy the girl he wanted. The girl he had wanted for so very long.

  Even if he knew he could never have her.

  Days went by.

  It was undeniable now. Krecek was Nalia's creature through and through.

  She'd never been the hero of myths.

  Nalia was the original trickster. The one who made things happen, even when no one wa
nted those things to happen. She'd pitted the other gods against each other when they created the high magic races. Had brought them all together again when they had created humans. When she had birthed the twin gods Agruet and Baedrogan, she'd given them the strength to look into the void and not descend into oblivion or madness. With that, she'd gifted the world with death and secrecy, gods seen as a bane, but ultimately a boon. She'd always done what was necessary.

  Even when others hated her for it.

  Even when she received no reward.

  Krecek left. He strode out to the edge of the town, refusing to glance at anyone as they passed and tried to greet him.

  He glared at the ground, he glowered at the blue sky, and he grimaced at the everything that was between.

  The air was crisp. Chilly. The very cusp of winter and spring.

  Oh, how he loathed it.

  His skin crawled with the force of his anger and frustration, and it wasn’t until he was a good hour’s walk into the woods that he finally released it in a soul-deep scream that he felt even in his toes.

  "Something troubling you?" Nalia’s voice came from everywhere around him. "The girl you want is willing to fuck anyone but you? And you think that’s just so horrible?" Mirthless laughter filled the air around him. "You think that’s so horrible, Krecek?"

  Damn it all!

  He wanted to be alone! To work all of this out on his own, get it out of his system, get on with his life.

  "You chose me," Nalia taunted. "You killed to get my attention. It was so flattering. So beautiful. But when I granted you what you wanted, when I took you to my side, you know what your heart was already filled with? Her."

  Flashes of thought pierced through his mind. Nalia's jealousy and surprise that any mortal could be placed above her. The insult of finding a priest already in love, unable to let go.

  "She complains because I watch her through your eyes. What about me? That girl was everything to you, even after you dedicated yourself to worship me. And now you cry out to me that you can't have her?"

  "It HURTS!" he screamed, staring upward as if he would find the goddess there. "I can live with it, but it doesn’t mean I can stop hating how it feels!"

  "Do you know what else hurts, Krecek?" Nalia took form before him, taking on the appearance of an elf, just to taunt him. "Death."