The ridiculous smell of rutting was barely concealed with the many aromatic candles Madame had lightened up all through the vast hall.
He must have seemed laughable to Astrid every time she found him in there. She might not have loved him, but he did no matter how hard she tried to mother him into propriety. He chuckled bitterly again. Astrid and propriety didn't go well in the same sentence. She wasn't a lady, she might have been once, but she was nothing more than a skilled assassin.
"Oh, sweetie," A hand was suddenly sprawled over his chest, stopping him in his tracks. "I haven't seen you here for almost a week."
Arslan groaned and brushed the prostitute's hands away. "Not now, Ellie. Another time maybe." He smiled and walked away without sparing the female another glance.
Arslan had had enough of that life, a life full of nothing but wasting away in a brothel. There was no Astrid to drag him out anyway.
He knocked on Madame's door before entering. He slammed the wooden panel shut and moved to sit down on one of the chairs before Madame's desk.
"What are you doing here, Arslan?" Madame asked, her glance was stern and sharp, it would have terrified most, but not him, she didn't certainly terrify Astrid.
"You should call the leaders."
Madame placed down her quill and pursed her lips. She was of the most suspicious type, but that was how she should have been. She ran a brothel after all. "And why should I do that?"
Arslan shook his head, fighting the tears away, he unclasped Astrid's daggers from his belt and placed them gently onto Madame's desk.
"Arslan," Madame's face blanched. "Where is Astrid?"
Arslan wanted to smile, he wanted to laugh, maybe suffocate from laughter. Astrid... Astrid was gone, gone forever gone. There was nothing, no one could do to ease his pain. Nothing.
"Astrid is gone, Gwynn."
Madame clenched her jaw. "How?"
"Gwynn,” he shook his head, eyes pressed shut, keeping the tears inside. "I am not telling this twice. Call the leaders, please."
Madame's own tears glistened in her eyes. Arslan didn't remember a moment he had seen Madame crying. Astrid's death affected everyone, not only him. Yes, his heart was broken, devasted, shattered, but so was everyone's else.
He only hoped he could have given Astrid something to hold on to life.
"I will."
Arslan stood up, taking the silver daggers, the only thing he thought he had left of her, something she loved and polished every day. Madame opened a drawer and pulled an ivory envelope. She outstretched her elegant hand, the tears from her eyes finally escaping.
She shook her head and said, "This is her will,” she nodded. "She gives everything to you. The land, the title, a two third of her vaults and," Madame shook her head, her voice cracking with her shallow sobs. "I think you have to read it. I am sorry I read it first, but Astrid was like a sister to me."
Arslan let the daggers fall back on the desk, he sat on the chair and grabbed the letter. He opened it as quickly as he could without damaging the delicate papers and shook his head, as he began reading silently.
+ + +
He folded the paper back with tear stained cheeks. Astrid was... indeed, more than met the eyes. Arslan shook his head. She knew that somehow she would not have survived their journey back and had given her will to Gwynn. Feelings were not something he had anticipated from someone like her. Astrid never showed her feelings, she never allowed anyone beyond her unfaltering self-defences.
Arslan placed the delicate paper in his jacket's breast pocket and wiped his cheeks furiously. Even in death, Astrid had her own way of influencing his life, his beliefs, his every breath. Astrid was and had ever been his life.
Madame gazed at him with all the compassion she could muster. Astrid had been as much her family, too. Gwynn had been an outcast, too and Astrid had a tendency to care for those that had nothing to their name.
Arslan had more than one reason to cry, though and Madame could see it clearly, for all her years in deceiving males and females alike, she had done a poor job at deciphering Astrid's thoughts. She should have foreseen it, she should have anticipated Astrid's need to sacrifice herself for the sake of others.
But there was a war raging in their borders and they would be fools not to try and change the world for the better. Enough time for mourning the loss of a great friend, they had spared Astrid enough thought, there would be a time after the war to mourn properly, but for now.... now they must fight. Fight like never before. For Astrid, for those who hope and believe.
Madame cleared her throat, attracting Arslan's eyes at her unmoving form. "She would not want us to linger in our plans. Astrid would have fought, from this very moment."
Arslan let a sob escape his lips, "What do you want me to do?"
Madame stood, crossing her arms underneath her chest. "I do not know enough about you, Arslan, but Astrid did and she trusted you. I know you have fought before, in the war and that is enough."
"Gwynn, I can't lead again. The last time was devastating enough."
"You are a wizard, aren't you?" She quirked an eyebrow and walked forward, towards the opened window.
"Astrid didn't know-"
"Astrid," Madame exclaimed. "Was smart and powerful, I believe she should have understood your capacity for magic better than anyone."
"I wanted a clear start, a clean slate to begin a new life. I abandoned my magic."
Madame twisted around, hands firmly placed on either of her hips, her eyes widened and she said sharply, "You did, magic didn't abandon you. It still runs in your veins and whatever you try to do to stop it; you can't. It is not a gift from the gods, it's from Nature and Nature never takes her gifts back."
"Gwynn,"
"I don't care what you will do. Do you want to crawl in one of Astrid's estates in the mountains? Then fine, go, hide. I will call for a council and it doesn't matter if you will be there or not." She reached for the door, opened it quickly and spared Arslan one final glance. "I do know who you are, Arslan. But Astrid didn't. I will keep your secret to my grave."
She slammed the door shut and vanished from the room.
Arslan sighed, a heavy burden settling upon his chest. He raised his hand and patted Astrid's letter. A soft wind blew into the room and a crow's gnarl echoed outside.
Even in death, that bird still followed her.
45
“Would you care for a ride in the woods?”
Cassia’s head shot up.
Ael rubbed the back of his throat anxiously and offered her his hand. She averted her glance from him and gave him her hand. He pulled her up and pressed the handle of her sword in her hand.
She sheathed the sword back into the belt and inhaled soundly. “Thank you that would be acceptable, I guess.”
“Come along then. Don’t forget your armour.”
She glanced towards the bench and nodded. She grabbed the leather armour on the ground and nodded her head again as she walked beside him. They passed through the long corridor that led away from the training building and towards the stables to the west.
The rack was a long building with dark brown exterior and white wide windows surrounded by a thick line of yellow colour. The smell of horses had turned a well-known smell to her after all these years, she wasn’t a female that would avert her face and cover her pretty, little, unturned nose because of it.
She rolled her eyes as she contemplated on the possibility that she could have been raised that way. Her stomach rose to her throat, not because of the smell but because of the idea of being born into a court full of aromatic powders and oils, of sacrilege and adultery, of intrigue and speculation.
The horses were all placed into their boxes, neatly and as clear as a horse box could be. They seemed unbothered by the pair’s presence as they continued chewing onto their hays with great delight. One caught her glance though, strange and peculiar as it was, wearing a coat unlike the rest of the normal white, brown and black horses whose coats
were unspotted and perfect.
She tilted her head and glanced towards the third box from the eastern row of brown, wooden boxes. A strange breed she hadn’t seen before. The horse had a white face, so white she hadn’t ever met a horse so unmarred before. From the ears and along its strong spine its coat was black. It’s barrel, though and a part of its neck was spotted with the same clear whiteness as its face.
The horse turned its face towards her suddenly as if it knew that she had been observing it. She held its gaze. Its eyes were a light shade of blue, clear. They seemed to bore into her soul as she stood there watching it with great fascination. She hadn’t seen a horse with eyes such as that on the one before her.
After taking a few minutes of assessing and looking at her thoroughly, the horse averted its eyes from her and returned to the serious task of biting slowly at its tall stall of blond hay. She chuckled a bit and shook her head.
“Whose horse it is?”
Ael stopped and twisted at his feet as she motioned him towards the strange beast. “That one?” His eye brow shot up as she nodded. “This beast was found wondering a few years ago in the forest. No one could bridle it, Beathan tried but he failed.” He shook his head and took in a deep breath. “Lord Griswold though exhausted the horse so much that in the end it bowed its head and let him rein it,” he grinned. “It is said to be a stallion from the Lam Mother in the forest.”
She blinked. “So it’s Griswold’s horse?”
“Yes, a beast I tell you, just like its master.”
She rolled her eyes in annoyance. “Let’s go, I don’t want to talk about him.”
He nodded and grabbed her hand in his. The contact made her tense, her shoulders pulling up and her breath becoming shorter. She didn’t like being touched, the last time someone tried to touch her this way he ended up in the infirmary for more than a week. She should have hit Ael just as much, but she couldn’t bring herself.
After they had found a horse for her and Ael had mounted his. They left through the main entrance, riding slowly. Passing through the bright City, Ael waved at a few citizens, bid them a good afternoon and marched forward.
They reached the edge of the City soon enough. Cassia kept her thoughts to herself as she glanced firmly before her and didn’t strain from the path.
They sprinted towards the forest, the wind soft and gentle against their faces. Cassia’s brown horse groaned softly as its hooves made contact with the ground. It was a clumsy horse, really clumsy its feet stepping here and there wherever it deemed right to go.
They guided their horses around the tall rocks; little flowers sprang from the stones and came to face the woods with a newfound brightness. Cassia was still astounded to see the great change Feremony was subjected to during these two centuries of her absence. It was strange; she remembered it dark and desolate. It was green now, green and lively.
The little whooshing of the rivers was a calming balm to her overly functioning brain, and the twittering of the birds was -for once- not as irritating and stupid as the twittering of the crows and hawks that flew about the lands of Navacore.
Everything had left the southern lands after the war; the animals were different, slimmer and hungered and more violent than before and the birds were gone, most of them apart from those bloody crows and hawks.
She missed her home; she missed it no matter how dark and terrifying it was. It was the place she had grown up and it still had a place in her soul, even though she didn’t want to return. Feremony –this Feremony before her- was a place she had known laughter and happiness.
Ael sprinted beside her, his grey horse standing a few feet away. He cleared his throat and turned to her. “Do you want to go on foot or with the horses?” He smiled. “I know of a place you’d like to see.”
“Is it a long way?” She pursed her lips. “The place you want to show me?”
“No,” he shook his head. “Not long.”
“We bind the horses and we continue on foot.”
It took a few minutes to round the reins over the thick branches of some random tree before them. They walked into the forest, the grass soft underneath their feet.
The woods were suspiciously silent. Even though she knew Ael had brought her there to relax and talk. Cassia’s mind was far too occupied by a variety of thoughts; silence was something difficult for her. Every little sound in the woods made her hyperventilate. She closed her eyes and shook her head as she followed Ael into the forest.
It was dark at some places, though not as dark as her woods were. She opened her eyes and cleared her throat. She didn’t particularly like it, not when she knew that in these woods things like a Lam Mother lived. Even though the worst thing that a Lam could do them was capture them and then let them go after a month or two, she still couldn’t stay long in there. There was something odd.
The thick leaves, wide enough and long, covered most of the sky, light -somehow even dim- found a way of creeping through in rays that looked like fairy dust. The flowers were so bright though for all the darkness in the forest. If there were no lams she would never have objected to living there for the rest of her life.
The forest gave away a sense of mystery that couldn’t make her relax, there was something off and she could feel it so evidently, that the vibrations from the earth beneath her feet rambled through her bones.
Ael passed through a thick curtain of leaves and she followed him as the sound of running waters grasped about her senses. She turned around and looked at the scenery before her.
The walls of the ground were strong around them, ornamented with purple little, small flowers that reached down and dipped underneath the surface of the small the pod the waterfall poured into.
The sun sliced through the leaves in smaller waves in there, but the illuminating flowers, just as those back in her forest, were glowing dimly, but bright enough to give over a little glittering facade in this pit in the ground.
The pod was wide around the pit, but there was ample land to the left and right side for three trees to rise just to the height of the walls and cover the pit more. Darken it a bit more and make the flowers illuminate more.
It was a beautiful place, with the green grass underneath their feet, soft and calling for Cassia to caress it, it called to her heart. She had missed this; the southern lands were far too dark even for a Dark Elf to live in contentedness.
Ael turned around and glanced at her with a smile playing over his lips. He took a step closer and pursed his lips.
“Do you like it?” He asked and tilted his head to the side, casually gazing down at her.
“I do.” She turned her eyes away from the place around them and looked at him, a smile of her own branding her lips.
She bit her lip clumsily with her teeth to abort the smile that crept not just on her lips, but on her soul too and that scared her most. She wasn’t supposed to feel anything. She was a fierce warrior; she brought down her sword and sliced through flesh without having any second thoughts. She wasn’t supposed to smile and let that strange feeling climb into her stomach and fill it with butterflies.
Her pale skin must have been illuminating with the light of the flowers. She swallowed hard and let her mouth hung open for a moment. Ael’s eyes had narrowed down at her, not with anger or playfulness, but with something else, something that she knew, she shouldn’t have found so appealing or desirable inside her.
He took a step closer to her, his hand warm as it touched her cloak-covered arm. “You are beautiful.”
He had said that again and hearing him telling her anew, something made her believe it even though she knew that she shouldn’t. She wasn’t beautiful, not even pretty. She was tolerable and fine to look. Her face was harsh and hollow and her body was all hard, strong muscles that moved so visibly every time she moved. Nothing was feminine on her, no voluptuous curves, no prominent breast or smooth stomach, no unblemished skin.
She could even bet she had more scars than Ael did. She certainly wasn’t
beautiful.
“Don’t lie to me, Ael.” She whispered as a frown covered her brow.
He shook his head and smiled softly, his golden eyes had turned dark under the little light of the forest. “You are the most beautiful little thing I have ever met.”
“Then you haven’t met many.” It felt more like a bark than an answer though, but that was what she felt.
“Don’t,” he said and brought up a calloused hand to cover her cheek. She used to have a scar marring the skin there, but with magic, she had made it fade to nothingness. “Don’t do this to yourself.”
“I am not-”
He crashed his mouth onto hers, lips working against her stiff ones. She barely managed to register the kiss as he wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing her closer. His one hand drew abstract circles over her back and she relaxed onto the kiss somehow and allowed her eyes to flutter closed as her lips finally moved against his.
Her heart pounded against her chest so loud that she was afraid he might have heard it. She let her hands rest against his warm chest. Her heart willed her mind to let go, liberate herself from vile thoughts. Her head spun, none of her one time lovers had ever tried to kiss her, probably because she intimidated them, but Ael... Ael was something different. She wanted to believe.
It had been the strangest feeling in her life because never again had she kissed someone –apart from that awkward kiss with Ardan- whom she felt a tinge of caring about. It was marvellous though and suddenly, no matter how old she was and on how many battles she had fought, she felt like a child who discovered something new and wondrous and she didn’t want it to end.
She pulled back though because she knew that nothing so good could last for more than a mere moment. She smiled up at him. Ael grinned as he leant down at her and pressed his forehead against hers; he closed his eyes and breathed in. She couldn’t bring herself to close her eyes; her mind was now twice occupied by a myriad of thoughts running through it. Ael’s breath ghosted over her cheeks, tingling her sensitive skin, Cassia could barely keep her thoughts on track.
A War of Silver and Gold Page 37