by Rosie Scott
“Well, he had a few choice words for me, to be honest, but that's neither here or there. Just remember, you've swayed your father's opinion before. I know you remember how much he resisted siding with you on Nyx.”
Nyx. In a quick distraction, I wondered where she was. She knew that today was important for me, and yet I hadn't seen her. There had to be a reason for it. As stubborn and even arrogant as she was by nature, the Alderi held a deep respect for me after my pleas had kept her from execution. When both of us had been sixteen, five years ago, we'd met under unusual circumstances. I had been sleeping in my bed, and had awoken abruptly to find the girl standing over me, a dagger in hand.
She had noticed I had woken up, and had said, delicately, “I am here to assassinate you.”
I had heard how young her voice was, as young as mine, and had replied through fear, “Then why are you hesitating?”
She had responded, “Because I don't feel like it would be right if I did.”
Nyx and I had spent hours exchanging stories and simply talking. It had gone from me talking to her to keep her from killing me, to actually finding a lot in common with her and wanting to befriend her. She'd come from underground, where the massive cavernous cities of her race were hidden discreetly from the rest of the world's view. Like most Alderi, sometimes referred to as dark elves, she was raised to be heartless, brutal, and vengeful against the races of the above ground world. She had been employed as an assassin from twelve years of age, and though she enjoyed both the chase and the brutality of the job, she'd been searching for reasons. When I had been listed as her target, instead of adding someone high profile to her list, she had finally found someone who understood what it felt like to be raised with certain expectations while desiring something different.
Nyx had been caught in the morning when we had still been in mid-conversation, and thrown in the dungeons of the Seran University, as it also served as the city's castle. As with all caught assassins, she was to be executed for her crimes within the fortnight. With much pleading and compromise with my father, I had gotten her pardoned. We had been best friends ever since.
“You'll no doubt hear some rough words from your father today,” Bjorn went on, pulling me out of my thoughts. “Don't let him get to you. You are your own woman and you will do grand things with your life, whether or not he has planned them for you.”
I nodded, wishing my father felt the same way. “Will you be disappointed in me, Bjorn?”
“Are you kidding? You couldn't disappoint me if you tried, child. I feel lucky everyday just to be a part of your life.”
I smiled wide, before pulling the big man into a hug. His muscular arms surrounded me, squeezing lightly. He kissed me on the top of the head.
“Thank you,” I said to him.
“I'm here for you, Kai. Always will be.” He pulled back a bit, nodding behind me. “You're being summoned again.”
I turned to see a young, teenage boy running toward me. I recognized the messenger from the previous times he'd come to me.
“Kai, your father requests your presence immediately,” he said, slightly out of breath.
I tried to ignore the anxiety that traveled up my esophagus from that statement. I nodded, before turning back to Bjorn. “Call upon the Priests of Hades, Bjorn.”
“Why, my girl?” He replied, curious.
“My funeral will be held a few days from now,” I said, attempting to jest in my nervousness.
Bjorn only laughed heartily at my words. I turned back to the messenger, who was listening over our conversation with a mixture of curiosity and unease. “Where is he?”
The boy turned back toward the university. “Follow me.”
*
Silas and I walked slowly into my father's office. It was a large, dark room with floor to ceiling bookshelves filled with spell books and informational texts about various kingdoms. A large map of the entire world of Arrayis hung on the wall to my left, free from markings. A single window made of stained glass allowed little sunlight in on my right.
Father's desk was an organized mess of texts, papers, and letters from the day's mail. A candle holder sat on his desk, allowing a much needed orange glow to wave along the walls. Beneath my shoes was an expensive woven rug my father had received as a gift from the king of Nahara in the capital of T'ahal, an expansive city in the sand dunes of the Arobe Desert, as part of a trade deal from the somewhat recent past.
With my father's chair facing away from us, I let my eyes wander around on the rug, taking in the deep red dyes of the thread. After a few moments, I focused on the candles instead, watching melted wax roll slowly down toward the candle's holder, my mind trying to stay off the impending conversation.
The chair slowly turned, and my father's eyes immediately fell upon Silas.
“I trust you can separate yourself from Kai for the amount of time I need to talk to her,” he said. It was a clear command.
“Yes, sir,” Silas said, bowing slightly before turning to leave.
It hurt me to hear my father talk so bluntly to someone so dear, but I said nothing, for I was as used to it as I would ever get. The door softly closed behind me, my father's eyes unrelenting on my own.
“I have secured you a place in the Seran Army,” he announced, his stare unwavering as he watched me for a reaction. “The Fourth Order of the Mages will be in town in a few short weeks, and you are to join them. They have plans for you. Plans I expect you to be able to handle.”
“The Fourth Order, father?” I asked.
“You didn't expect to get a promotion before beginning your career?” He asked.
“I don't expect a promotion, father. I just expect a taste of combat, and as far as my knowledge goes, the Fourth Order deals in nothing of the sort.”
“Each army is critical to the success of the entire unit. The Fourth Order is currently working on escorting diplomats from Dagmar to T'ahal.”
I hesitated. “How much combat does this involve?”
“Damn it, Kai, get your mind off of combat. Very little, if any. What's important is that the money involved is better than most, since we're dealing with dwarves. They're gullible bastards.”
“No, they're just more willing to trust,” I corrected him softly.
“Yes. As I said. Gullible.” After a slight pause, my father went on, “I trust you have no objections to these plans.”
I swallowed hard. “Actually, I—”
“Speak up, Kai. I haven't the time for your stuttering.”
“I heard you've talked to Bjorn.”
“Bjorn has absolutely no relevance to this discussion,” my father replied sternly.
“He does, actually, because he spoke to you on my behalf.”
“What are you, a child? Sending men who have much better things to do to me because you're too lazy?”
“That's not what happened. I didn't send him to you. I expressed my concerns, and he took them to you of his own choice.”
“Hmm. Well. In either case, I cannot see how his words to me about you has anything to do with your plans with the Fourth Order.”
“His words to you should have outlined exactly what I felt about your plans for me and your army.”
Anger slowly creased the skin of my father's forehead. “You would waste your life? You were trained by this university, and I expect you to show respect for your upbringing by serving in its army. I fail to see how you believe this is up for discussion.”
“Father, you are the one who is wishing me to waste my life. Sending me to the Fourth Order is not a good use of my skills. It borders on insulting.”
“How stupidly arrogant of you to assume your skills are any more valuable to the army than any other mage,” he seethed.
“How absolutely blind of you to assume they can't be,” I retorted, angry. “I know I have no experience on the battlefield. That's why I desire it. Why waste time sending me on escort missions? Aren't you aware that I might not have that much time to be of use
to you?” I spoke of the fears I had of my own mortality. Because no mage had ever before wielded all six elements, it was untested. I was a guinea pig in the studies of magic. My very existence should have been an impossibility. I had the unwelcome knowledge that any day could be my last.
“What time you have left is of little concern to me,” he replied, unaware of how badly it hurt for me to hear him say it. “Regardless, before you are ready for combat, you must be trained in being part of an army, following the orders of your superiors. It is something you have failed at time and time again, so before I can trust sending you into combat, we need to see if you are capable of following simple directions.”
His statement was insulting, and followed too closely to the hurtful words I'd endured from him just before it. Anger sizzled and popped within me from the pit of my stomach.
“I trust your silence to mean that you have no further questions,” he stated.
“You trust wrongly, then. I reject your plans for me, father. I have something else in mind for my future.”
My father sat stiff in his chair, unmoving save for a nerve beside his right eye. “Such as?”
“It doesn't matter, does it? Regardless of what they are, my plans differ from yours. You won't agree with them.”
“You are naïve and juvenile, Kai. Words cannot express how disappointed I am in your decisions.”
“I accept that. Unfortunately, though, father, your approval has not been at the top of my hopes and goals list ever since I found it was impossible to obtain.” I turned, opening the door to the hallway beyond.
“I did not excuse you,” I heard him call from behind me.
I closed the door behind me, calling back, “Yes, I know. I excused myself.”
Two
Silas opened the door and held it for me, and I thanked him in a mumble before I walked through it and into the Howling Wolf Tavern. I quickly scanned the room for familiar faces, finally finding who I was looking for.
A thin figure sat at the bar, clothed in light black leather armor and a hood. A belt with a number of sheaths hung from her hips. After the tavern keeper whispered some words to her, Nyx turned, her deep, dark purple face looking up at me from under her thick hood.
“I was wondering if you'd ever come,” she greeted, motioning for Silas and I to take the saved stools from beside her. Nyx's hair escaped the sides of her hood from around her face in dark wisps, and she watched me with a deep concern swirling in her black eyes.
“We didn't have plans to meet here,” I replied in defense.
“No, but your talks with your father usually end in a hefty tavern bill, so I figured I'd wait for you here.” Nyx grinned at me, before glancing over at Silas to judge his expression. “I'm paying.”
“Nonsense, I can vouch for myself,” I replied. I raised my hand at the bartender.
Nyx called to him, “Anything this woman orders is on my bill. Don't let her tell you otherwise.”
With a resigned sigh, I ordered a mug of ale before crossing my arms on the bar, banging my head onto them.
Nyx laughed heartily beside me. “I cannot wait to hear this story.”
I told Nyx the same story I'd told Silas about the conversation with my father. She listened with enthusiasm, as usual, laughing as I told her the final moments.
“Well, no shit, you told the old man off, did you?” Nyx glanced toward the bartender. “Bring us a pitcher!”
I shook my head in response to her antics before taking a few swigs of my ale.
“So is that it, then?” Nyx asked, intrigued. “Are we going on an adventure?”
“I don't know. What do you think?”
“I think it's about bloody time! I'm tired of having to live in this dump of a place. There's barely any work for me here. I have to take cuts in pay to serve the poor, and the holier-than-thou upper district wouldn't dare hire me, the racist bastards. There's coin to be made elsewhere, I'm sure of it.”
I looked to Silas, whose only concern at the moment seemed to be keeping a close eye on how much ale I was consuming.
“What about you?” I asked him.
“I'd come with you wherever you decide to go,” he replied.
“How sweet,” Nyx teased, though she cut it off at that out of respect.
“But how will we make our livelihoods?” Silas pondered aloud.
“I have enough coin to last the three of us for a few years as it is,” I admitted, my voice low as a precaution against any potential thieves. “Though some people can make a fine living off of being a mercenary, and they don't come from the same background I do. We'll be able to do it. The three of us.”
“We have to decide where to go,” Silas mused. “We can't leave the city without any direction or clue as to where we're going.”
“Why not?” Nyx retorted, before taking another swig of ale.
“Because that would be unwise,” he replied evenly.
“Does dear brother know about all this?” Nyx asked, a quick change of subject, but a relevant question.
My thoughts went to Terran, and my stomach soured. “He knows I am unhappy here with father's direction. He has advised me against disobeying him multiple times. His main concern is my...” I trailed off, staring at the swirling gold of the ale below me. “...my lifespan.”
“He would rather you stayed here and wasted your life being unhappy than to leave and find happiness in what little time you may have? Smart one, that.” Nyx ran one dark finger around the lip of her mug.
“He knows my life will be shorter if I use the powers I have, that's all.”
“Yes, but you have them. You are the first in history to have such powers, as far as we know. Live a little, right?”
I'd often thought the same. I had come to terms with the death sentence of being a mage long ago, before I'd even known I was more skilled than most. Still, we were talking about how long I had to live, here. Part of me was still uncomfortable with that. I was only twenty-one and still waiting for life to begin. Looking over to Silas, I found him avoiding my gaze. Our vastly different potential lifespans had been the source of much turmoil for us.
“So, when are we leaving?” Nyx asked, once I'd said nothing. I knew she was eager to leave Sera. Much of the pretentious, mostly human populace were judgmental against dark elves, given that they were a rare sight in the city, or above ground at all. On top of that, just the appearance of an Alderi could be frightening; they were known for their murderous ways. If it weren't for her being friends with me, I was sure Nyx would have left years ago.
“I don't know. Give me a few days, maybe a few weeks. I need to talk to Bjorn about it. See if he has ideas for us. And to...say goodbye.” Saying goodbye to those I loved who would be staying here would be the hardest part about leaving, but I knew Sera was not where my future was. I'd been flirting with the idea of leaving ever since I had figured long ago my father wasn't going to take my skills seriously. I should have left years ago, actually. Most mages began fieldwork at eighteen. Here I was, three years past, with a shorter lifespan and still no battle experience. I was flabbergasted as to why he was so afraid to put my skills to the test.
“Ugh. Please make it closer to a few days than a few weeks,” she mused teasingly, before ordering another pitcher of ale.
It was a plan we finally decided on. After quite a few more mugs of ale and hours of talking, the daylight faded outside and turned to darkness. The tavern held a golden glow from the various candles and the fireplace, and a lute player came into the tavern, setting up a seat in the corner of the room, a small cloth pouch on the ground at his feet for tips. He began to play his instrument, and the music soon swirled lovingly with the effects of the ale in my head.
“All right, I think you need to be leaving,” Nyx said to me, a few hours after the darkness had fallen outside. “You look like you're ready to pass out.”
“It's been a long day,” I replied.
“Are we going back to the university?” Silas asked fro
m beside me.
“I'd rather not.”
He nodded. “I thought you'd say that. Let's get a room here, assuming they have a vacancy.”
Nyx lifted an eyebrow, but said nothing. Silas called the tavern keeper over, paying him for one room for the night. Nyx waved us off with a friendly goodbye.
Silas held my arm as he led me up the stairs to the tavern's second floor, the room key in his hand.
I tugged at his hand. “I can walk,” I protested.
He kept his grip. “You've had one too many mugs of ale.”
“Pfft.” Despite the disagreement, I didn't try to pull away again. Silas unlocked the door before us, leading me within a room that smelled as if it hadn't been cleaned for weeks.
“Well,” Silas commented matter-of-factly, as was his personality, “That stench is quite interesting.”
I laughed louder than I should have at the statement. “How eloquently put,” I said, collapsing onto the bed without a care.
Silas closed the door behind him, turning to face me. He looked at me for a moment, his eyes portraying words his mouth resisted saying.
“Maybe I should ask for a second room,” he suggested, suddenly uncomfortable.
“Oh, Silas,” I said, rolling a bit on the bed so that it made enough room for him on the other side. “I expect nothing more than a good night's sleep. Let the past be the past.”
“It wouldn't be a problem. I'd pay for it out of my own pocket. I simply figured you'd want to save the money.”
“Stop your bickering,” I replied, readjusting to be under the covers, lying on my side. “I have respected your wishes for over a year, haven't I? All I want is sleep. Promise.”
Watching as my eyes fluttered close from losing their battle with sleep, he replied, “As you say.”
*
Nyx was waiting for us at a small table the next morning, her hood uncharacteristically off, allowing her to show off her dark purplish-black skin and even darker black hair. The tavern was nearly empty at this hour, so she would have to dodge fewer stares than usual. Despite the thick heat of the air, she was in full leather armor again. It served as more than just protection from elements and weapons; because she was an Alderi, her skin was made for thriving in dark and moist environments. She was constantly avoiding direct contact with the sun, and always carried around lotions that she had made for her at an alchemist's shop to keep her skin from peeling.