She heard thunder between the waves. She was sure it was Thor, but he would never come for her. She left her people. There also would be no Valkyrie for her. She had not fought valiantly in battle. She was a robber - a thief. Perhaps Loki would come and offer her a deal, or Hel would call for her to join her in the underworld. The thunder rumbled closer as the white spots in her vision began to grow ever wider and more frequent. Something gripped her arm. It was tight and firm. It hurt, but pain didn’t matter to her now. She suddenly found herself slammed upon the ground. She coughed hard. She rolled to her side as she continued to cough. A hand slammed against her back. The water that had begun to take the place of air in her lungs flowed out of her as violently as it went in. “Are you okay?” she heard someone say. The voice sounded familiar; it’s him. Oh gods, it’s him, she thought as she coughed. “I…” she continued to cough, “why?” Farrah asked as she struggled to breathe.
Ash rubbed her back, patting it gently. “Why not?” he asked. “I heard you scream.”
She coughed again, “and, so you came running?”
Ash looked to Selene, “Well galloping, but, yes.”
She giggled between coughs, which were beginning to be less frequent. She rubbed her head.
“Is your head hurt?” Ash asked. “Let me see.” He gently examined her head. “You’ve a nasty bump and a small gash, but you’ll live. You shouldn’t try robbing anybody for a while though.” She looked into his eyes, her lips made the motions to form words, but none came out. She felt that chill run downward to the pit of her stomach again at the mention of her robbing others. “We should get you dry, and fed, and rested. You’ve had quite an experience,” Ash said.
Farrah tried to get up but stumbled while trying to keep her balance. Ash put his arm around her waist, putting her arm around his neck. “We’ll take it slow. I’ve got you,” he said as they walked back towards the forest to look for a place to make camp for the evening.
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One of the Hylaen soldiers spat on Ash audibly, drawing Farrah’s attention back to the present. She struggled to be free. Marric noticed both the soldier’s action, and Farrah’s reaction. He was seething. He wanted the heart; he needed the heart. Allying himself with King Caelen allowed him the use of these soldiers. He needed their numbers to take the castle. He thought this would allow him to right the wrongs of Alric, that lecherous bastard of a king. Even if he had to… His gaze turned to Ash then back to Farrah. “Try that again and the flames of my rage will be felt in earnest next time, my dear princess.” Marric opened his right hand to reveal a flame swirling upward in his palm. It began climbing ever higher towards the sky. The flames flickered in her eyes and she thought back to the fire that Ash had built for her that night.
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“Nopeeking,” she said.
“Why, I would never,” Ash replied as he rummaged through one of the packs on Selene. Of course, you wouldn’t she thought to herself. “Here. Wrap yourself in this blanket. It’ll keep you warm and covered until your clothes dry.” He tossed her the blanket. She came to the fire wrapped up as tightly as she could manage while still being able to walk and carry her clothes. He took them from her. “Sit,” he said, as he laid the clothes out around the fire. “Rest.” She did as she was told. She was tired, but she was just happy to be warm and able to sit again; not lying permanently beneath the water on the bed of the river.
“Why did you come back to help me?” Farrah asked.
Ash smiled broadly, “I didn’t know it was you at first,” he said gently scratching the back of his head, “I heard a scream that sounded as if it came from someone in trouble, and so I came to help. I recognized that it was you when I got close enough to see you fighting to keep you head above the water.”
Farrah’s head hung low. Who runs towards the screams of others? she thought to herself. No one from where she came from did that. Her father might have done that for her mother, but she was long gone.
“But, I robbed you,” she said. “I pointed an arrow at you and threatened the lives of both you and your horse. And, yet, you still saved me?”
Ash stoked the fire’ “Of course. Why wouldn’t I? I gave you the gold because you seemed to need it badly enough that you would attempt to rob a knight of Larutte. You saw my armor, and I’m sure you saw the sword strapped to Selene, and yet you still felt it was worth it to attempt to rob me. I admired your tenacity and I felt badly about whatever circumstances forced you into such a situation. I can always get more gold. I have that luxury.”
She felt that warm sensation rise up in her once again, but this time it was without the chill. And, where the chill had previously been, the sensation of butterflies had taken its place. “You gave me the gold?” money?” she asked.
“Yes,” he replied.
“But I was going to shoot you with an arrow.”
Ash scratched his right eye brow as he looked into the fire with a smirk. “No, you weren’t. You kept switching between me and Selene, never giving yourself a chance to focus on either target. If you had let loose an arrow it most likely would have missed either target you chose. And, you weren’t drawing back far enough to cause any real damage if you did hit your mark.”
Farrah’s eyes were wet. “You gave me the gold. I felt terrible for having robbed you.” She couldn’t quite decide if she was angry at having been deceived or happy that she wasn’t actually a thief. In her effort to decide, she knew that she had never met anyone like him before. She wondered if that boy Euan knew this would happen when he suggested she travel north.
She remembered being skeptical of the boy at first, but he knew things that men older than he did not know. He had earned her trust by helping her maintain her identity as an Emerald Sister, by helping heal an elderly man who she had no idea how to help. She had thought that because she found the book of the Emerald Sisters it would be enough to help people and be enough to give her a new life outside of her father’s reign. She had hoped that in time she could find a cure for his illness, his madness. She wondered if that boy had been Loki on one of his less troublesome days, but he didn’t seem very Loki-like. She put that out of her mind. “Thank you,” Farrah said. She was glad now that she took the boy’s advice. She got up and walked over to Ash. She sat beside him. “I’m Farrah, she said as she extended her hand.
“Ash,” he replied, gripping her hand. “Nice to meet you.” Their eyes met, and she could see the depths of an ocean in his eyes. They revealed a calmness that restrained something powerful. They talked as the evening grew darker. She told him about her father and how he slowly fell into madness after her mother died. She told him about how he beat her because she reminded him of her mother. Because they were both the children of kings, they understood each other in a way that few others could. Their fathers tried to forge their children as they did their kingdom - through force and will; a tactic that only further alienated each from the other. This too, they understood, and recognized in the other.
The moon was visible now and the darkness had begun to fully set in. Farrah’s clothes had dried, and she put them on. They ate a rabbit that Ash had caught earlier in the day and continued to talk well into the evening. Ash told her about his quest to slay the dragon which had been on a rampage harassing the farmers of his land. He proudly spoke of how he would be the first to slay such a beast in generations thanks to the advice of his dearest friend, Marric. He spoke so highly of his friend. There was so much admiration in his voice as he recounted tales of their childhood together. It was somewhere around this time, she clearly saw him for who he was. She saw how someone who had been through so much could be capable of so much love for others. With that realization, she kissed him; he kissed her back. She pulled off his tunic and shirt, kissing him, pulling him closer to her as she unbuckled his pants. She let them drop to the ground. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close to him. He kissed her, gently biting her lip before he lifted her shirt over her
head. He kissed her lips once more, then began to kiss her neck softly, pulling her closer with each kiss. She could feel the heat of his body against hers. She could feel his heart beating more quickly with each passing second. Hers was too.
She kissed his neck as he caressed her body, feeling every curve of her until his hands found the buckle of her pants. He unbuckled them and let them drop to the ground as well. He laid her down on the blanket that had kept her warm earlier. She looked up at him, her eyes were big and blue and soft, like the sky on a warm spring day. His, bright and soft as well - the color of the calm ocean. She lifted her head to kiss him; he met her midway. She could feel him between her legs. She nodded. She could feel him inside of her. She lost herself in his eyes; in his arms; in that moment she felt connected, and her heart opened to the possibility that she could love this man and be loved in return.
An owl screeched somewhere in the distance. It awakened her from her sleep. The night air was cool, and the moon was full, but Ash’s body was warm and so she wiggled her back gently closer to him. He wrapped his arm around her again under the blanket. She smiled softly, closed her eyes and went back to sleep.
The morning came quickly, and she awoke to a kiss on the back of her neck. He squeezed her tightly and whispered good morning into her ear. They dressed together quickly. Ash cooked up some fish from the river for breakfast. Try as they might to deny it, their departure was inevitable. She needed to find the means to pay for a ship to sail and find a cure for her father’s illness. She knew that there was no guarantee of this and that it was largely based on blind hope. But, she needed to know that she had tried. She remembered how kind and loving her father had been before her mother, his wife, had died. Despite who he had become, she had hope that somewhere out there, there was a way to bring back the father she once knew. But, she resolved that she would not rob anyone again. This was the first time she had done so, and it had almost cost her life, not to mention the guilt she felt.
Ash, she knew, needed to complete his quest to slay the dragon and save his people. She helped him pack up his things and saddle up Selene for the rest of his journey. She knew she would miss him and would likely never see him again. They hugged. They kissed and as they were about to part he pulled her back. “Go to Larutte and wait for me there,” Ash said. “Wait five days, and on or before the fifth day, I will find you. If I have not arrived by then, I am dead, and you should go about your journey to save your father. Do not tell anyone who you are. Don once more the guise of an Emerald Sister and help those in need as best you can without putting yourself in any danger. There are many who could use that kind of help in the wake of these dragon attacks. Go by the name of Dawn. Tell no one your true name. No one must know you are the daughter of King Caelen.” His voice was charged with concern and tenderness.
“I will. I will do just that,” she remembered saying before kissing him for what seemed like the last time.
She did as he had told her to do. For the first two days she was fine, but on the third day she was seized by soldiers from Hylaen on the outskirts of the village surrounding the castle.
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Farrah wished more than anything that she could go to Ash, but they were both tied to posts and he had not moved since she noticed him after Marric had hit her. She stretched her neck forward to see how he was doing, to look for a breath, a movement, a blink, anything to let her know that he was still alive. Marric’s pronouncement that no one kill him, seemed unconvincing to her. She saw him there, bloodied and beaten - a lifeless being. Her heart suddenly jumped. She thought she saw his eyelid move; then the other. Thank the gods, she thought to herself, he’s not dead. The corners of her mouth raised almost imperceptibly.
CHAPTER 8
“If he won’t open the chest, find me the boy. Find me Euan,” Marric commanded the soldiers. “Keep an eye on the girl, Pike. Clint, go find some men to search the town and bring me the boy,” Marric said as he glared at Ash, his face awash with the dancing shadows cast by the fire.
Ash blinked, attempting to familiarize himself in his new surroundings. The world was fuzzy and distant. He heard Marric barking orders to his men to find Euan. Ash smiled inwardly, they’ll never find him, he thought to himself, but he’ll find them when he’s ready. He could feel the fire against his skin. He could see the world in only faded orange and black. I need to wait. I need to think this time before I act. I need to be less foolish, Ash thought as he remembered the evening spent with Euan after slaying the dragon.
“Do you know how to make fire?” Euan asked as sat across the fire from Ash. Puzzled by the question, Ash motioned with a look at the fire burning between them.
“Yes.” Ash said.
Euan, smirked at his response. “That’s right. Marric is the one who knows magic. You just kill things for him,” Euan said eyeing Ash carefully. “I,” Ash began angrily, but stopped himself to take a breath. “As far as I know only those of the Order of Clerics can use magic, and even of those few, not all can, only a select few among them can actually use magic.”
Euan sat for a moment contemplating his response. “Yes…and…no… You see Ash, everyone is connected to the forces of magic. Magic runs through all things. But, not everyone has the ability to manipulate it. And, even among those who do, that ability varies greatly. Dreams are a kind of magic, as is love, and even intuition is a kind of magic. Every being here, now, that ever was and will ever be, experiences these forms of magic. But, to most reactionaries they are things that happen to them; things they themselves cannot explain nor command. It is not just those of the Order of Clerics who can use magic, Ash. Many more can; they just don’t know how to do so. You can. You were just never taught.”
Ash stared into the fire, rubbing his face in the palms of his hands, “You make my head ache.” He paused, “I can use magic?” he asked.
Euan smiled slyly. “Indeed, ye can young man, your family is quite adept at it in fact. Comes from your father’s side, it does. Neither he, nor his father ever learned to harness it. Or, it seems, ever knew they could, but it was there. The ability…is… there. Ye will not be at Marric’s level because he has been studying for many years. But, I can teach ye to summon fire. That is always a helpful skill to have.” Euan looked almost ancient in that moment as the flames cast their shadows across his childlike face.
Ash wondered what it would be like to be able to use magic. He wondered how, and more importantly, why, if his family could use magic, they didn’t.
“If you are willing to teach me, Euan, I am willing to learn. In the short time I’ve known you you’ve made me realize there is a lot I do not know. And, now, if you are correct, there is more to my family than I thought.”
Euan, stared into the fire momentarily. “More than ye know, indeed. Come, let us begin. Tapping into it isn’t difficult; controlling it is. Come sit in front of me near the fire.”
Ash did as Euan instructed. Both he and the boy, who was a boy in appearance only, sat facing one another. Euan extended his hands, palms facing up. “Place ye hands in mine,” Euan said. Ash placed his hands, palm facing down onto Euan’s. “Good, now, close your eyes and feel the fire beside you. Focus all your attention on it. Become aware of the way it devours the air around it, the way it dances as it weaves through the wood, feeding on it. Feel its heat.”
Ash’s hands began to warm. He felt a sensation of warmth winding its way up his arms into the rest of his body. “I feel it,” Ash said.
“Shhh, no ye don’t. You feel my energy showing your body how to use its own. I’m opening the pathways for you to do this on your own. Now focus on the fire.”
Ash followed Euan’s directions. He felt the energy permeating throughout his body slowly. Every bit of him tingled. Even bits he didn’t know could tingle, tingled. He could feel the fire. He could sense the fire. It reminded him of a person or an animal. It had wants. It had needs. It desired life. It was hungry.
“Can ye feel it, Ash?” asked
Euan as he slowly let go of Ash’s hands.
“I can,” he replied.
“Ye ready?” Euan asked,
“Aye,” replied Ash, confidently.
“Turn up your right hand,” Euan demanded.
Ash turned up his right hand, waiting for Euan’s next direction.
“Now that you have felt the true essence of the fire, think of it in your hand.”
“Aye,” Ash replied, as he focused his thoughts on creating a small flame in his hand. His focus was drawn to the campfire and then back to his hand. A tiny flame sparked in the palm of his hand, but quickly faded away. Euan watched carefully. Teaching any new student had its share of exciting potentialities. Not everyone handled magic in the same way. He was curious how Ash would handle it. Ash created the spark in his hand once again, but this time he was able to make it last longer. It was similar to the flame atop a candle - small and delicate.
“Good. Good. Now I want you to envision it as a ball. A ball of flames crashing on top of one another, like waves in the ocean.”
Ash closed his eyes and tried to imagine what Euan was describing. He saw in his mind one small wave of a flame crashing on one side and rising on the other. The brilliant oranges, reds, and whites weaving together as each wave of fire grew, feeding off the energy from the one before.
Hope Chest Page 4