by Will Bly
So she shamed herself into behaving and waited patiently. She guzzled her ale, fighting the bitterness to take in a little more than usual with each gulp. Fuzziness crept up into her head and loosened her up. She implored Quinn to play his fiddle, which he did with teardrops welling in his eyes. She talked more about how pretty Kay was, how well Merek’s speaking improved, how glad she was to have Quinn back, how crazy it was for all of them to come together in such a way. She toasted the fallen, and she felt the ghosts of the past leave her. Peace settled, and normalcy cradled her in its arms. To be carefree again, to laugh for the sake of laughter instead of putting on some brave face, this is the best, most underappreciated feeling in the world.
◆◆◆
Quinn slapped the table and swung a fist through the air. “Ha, so this fella gets ridden around the village like a horse completely naked like nature planned him to be!”
Irulen coughed as he laughed. The actions conflicted and sent ale up the back of his throat and splashing into his nose from behind. He wiped at his face as the stuff came out of his nostrils, but he failed to hide what had happened.
“I know it’s funny but you don’t need to be pouring ale out yer nose!”
“Ah, you son of a demon.” Irulen smiled after wiping the foam away with his arm. “Hmm, I think the beer foam has made my kidneys yearn to piss.” His chair teetered backward as he rose.
Quinn reached out a quick-thinking hand and caught it from falling.
“Whoops,” Irulen said as he stretched, rotating his back left to right. “Okay onto business.” He walked outside to where the pissing troughs were. The wooden planks of the raised platform creaked as he walked. The water lapped gently against the pillars below. He couldn’t see it, though, not even through the holes in the planks or even when he peeked through the crevice between the tavern and the docking. A tube of some kind of giant reed cut in half and nailed in along the tavern at a downward angle. Irulen shrugged and unsheathed the smaller of his swords. Drops turned into a heavy pelting as he increased the force of his urination. He traced his golden river as it flowed down the conduit to let out into the water below. Why not just let us pee into the water? Maybe they are hiding it from our eyes. Out of sight, out of mind, right?
He turned to find Farah looking at him. “Oh!” is the only word of surprise he could muster. He wondered if he had finished sheathing his short sword before he had turned toward her.
“I hope they get their drinking water from elsewhere,” she said before clearing her throat.
“I just thought that, or was about to think that,” he replied as stately as he could. “Though I suppose if you boil it…”
“Ugh.” Farah turned to walk away.
“Wait. You’ve done this before, you know. Bothered me when I was having a piss. The night of the campfire attack.”
She turned with a smile and a slow, royal nod. “S’pose I have. Walk with me.”
He shrugged and complied. He felt a little suspicious, but her hair was down. He liked it when she let it down. All tangly and long, wild and red. Her head scarves were nice, but nothing showed better than the shine of the many strands of hair shimmering like a beautiful reflection of the many things inside her that made her so attractive. Careful, there. Careful. Just think about… No, don’t think. I’m not ready for thinking.
He followed her onto a bridge where she leaned back with her elbows against the rail.
“How are you doing?” she asked.
“Fairly fine, I’d say. You ask me this pretty often lately, eh?”
“A lot has happened.”
“S’pose I have to agree with you there.”
“Is it over?”
“Is what over?”
“Everything… Ithial, the shards… do you think it’s over?”
“Ha! You are wondering if fate’s been fulfilled.”
“It doesn’t quite feel like it.”
“It doesn’t, does it? But then again, I’ve never spoken to someone who’s actually accomplished such a thing. Great expectations make for fickle rewards.”
“Only sometimes,” she said and bit her lip before continuing, “Do you remember when you held my hands on the road to Northforge, after saving me from that nasty imp?”
“Sure do.”
“It hurt a little while you healed me.”
“Oh, sorry about that. I never know—”
“Sometimes we have to hurt a little to feel better in the end, I think.”
“I suppose you are right. Maybe we have to hurt a lot even. Why are you getting all wordsy on me?”
“I want to help you heal and for you to help me.”
“You know I will.”
“We lost friends, and with them we lost pieces of ourselves, but we can help put each other’s pieces back together. Do you believe we can?”
“If this bridge were to break, I swear you’d hold me up somehow. You are the reason I made it this far, Farah. That’s the damn truth. Your unwavering belief in something more than can be seen in front of us. I’ve never believed in anything outside of how damned I am or in the punishment I’d receive for all the nasty shit I’ve done.”
“You can’t give up today with the promise of tomorrow.”
“See, stuff like that you say keeps me going—that keeps all of us going. You’ve helped Merek talk more, even. Your belief in all of us pulled us out of the muddy pool that’s been sucking at us this whole time.”
◆◆◆
Maybe she was just a sucker for compliments, or that Irulen rarely spoke so openly, but flutters tickled at her ribs. “Mm!” She turned from Irulen and looked out over the side of the bridge. Mangroves and homes framed her view of the sun as it lowered over the open water of the lake. “This place is beautiful. Hard to think those caves are so close to here all quiet with Ithial’s body rotting all slow like.”
“Ew!” Irulen laughed at her. “Pretty, quirky, and randomly morbid, you are.”
“I’ve been around you way too much,” she said.
They fell silent for a while as the wind blew soft and the sun fell between them.
She spoke up again. “We aren’t done, right?”
“Mm?”
“We aren’t done with our journey together, right?”
Irulen shook his head. “I don’t see why we’d have to be.”
“I want to travel. See the world. Explore the other great trade roads. Sail through an ocean. I heard the ocean looks like the silhouette of large treetops blowing against the darkening sky.”
“Something like that. Especially if you are on some strong potion while watching the leaves of trees sway back and forth against a darkening sky.”
Farah glanced around to make sure they were alone. The time didn’t feel all that right, but she feared it never would. She wanted companionship. She wanted devotion, and she wanted Irulen to herself. These feelings had been with her all along except only recently did she realize what they were. First they disguised themselves as admiration, then they were hate, then pity and more. But in the end it all boiled down to love. She had come to love this man, and she felt sure he loved her as well. We deserve our happy ending. The green grass of the farm, the sound of children playing, peaceful faires and festivals.
She leaned in close to him and relished his widened eyes and lifted brow. She grabbed his arms and placed his hands on her hips. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and she swayed gently.
He smiled and shook his head at the random gesture, but she remained persistent. His hands squeezed gently at her, and his reluctance melted before her. He swayed with her as the sun set over the lake, and she looked into his eyes. Something wasn’t quite right.
His eyes. No, his eye. She kept swaying as to not alarm him, but something looked off around his pupil. She leaned in closer and kissed him, then opened her eyes and looked into his as she drew away.
The circle of the pupil appeared vague and liquidy as if a drop of black paint had hit the ground of his iris.
Along the edges were fluid, actually. Black flames licked around the edges of his pupil, as if a campfire reflected off a puddle. Is that his darkness? Is this thing not over, after all? But she no longer panicked in the face of challenges. Whatever the shadow in his eye was, whatever it meant for them, Farah would help make it right.
About the Author
A word-wizard who enjoys his craft. Husband, father, and dog-owner living in Southwest Florida. Proud alum of University of Auckland and SUNY Buffalo. Tolkienite. Libraries.
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