Threads of Emerald

Ropes of Fate: Chapter 39

I stopped abruptly, turning to face Orion who's features were mostly concealed as the sun cast shadows from his velvety green hood.

"What?".

"I know that man. He was Ivor's fake father", the words came out in a tangle as the man made his way over to where we stood a few feet from the side of the road. Flat, grassy plains traded for the jagged shadows of building jutting into the cloudless afternoon stretch of sky.

"He might not even recognise us", even Orion sounded tense as the man stepped even closer to us. He was a thin, weedy man with a receding hairline and dull blue eyes. I should have guessed he wasn't Ivor's father, Ivor was far too handsome to have come from him.

In the few encounters with his father, he'd turned his nose up at me. The Tellars were far below his status, a well-travelled and wealthy mercenary. I always thought that it went deeper than that. That he didn't like the way I acted. That my value was diminished by the freedom with which I used my body, as if I was a prize mare who knocked market value off herself every time she was touched by a man, my skin marred by each pleasurable encounter. I saw it in the way his eyes looked over my body, as if I was a piece of metal, rusting with each sweaty encounter.

I didn't like him. He didn't like me. I just prayed he didn't like me enough to forget my face.

The crunch of gravel stopped, and the squelch of wet grass rung through the taut air as his boots came into view as I turned around and stared at the ground.

"Excuse me, do you know what town we are at?", his voice was surprising light and cheery, so much different than the almost gravelly and monotonous tone he'd used only months prior.

An odd question too. Neth Drandon had been in Chrysaris for months, in which he'd bought the most expensive estate in the town and had a market stall every weekend. The silhouette of the town was already visible, the sun's shadows shifting and drenching the various coloured stones in yellowy sunlight.

"We're in Chrysaris", Orion had lowered his voice into a dry monotonous tone as he stepped up beside me.

"Thank you, Sir", Neth didn't stop to inquire as to what were doing here or our identities, he climbed back onto the wagon and continued toward the town.

"Weird", I said as soon as I heard the clanking of wheels, "He used to basically run Chrysaris, has he hit his head or something? How would he not know it was Chrysaris?".

Orion pulled his hood down slightly as the wagon raced ahead, Neth not sparing a glance behind as he made his way right into the centre. My heart squeezed painfully in my chest as I realised I wouldn't be able to meander through the streets as the sunset set the square alight, or run into one of the small cafes as rain drenched the muddy pavements.

"Orion", I wasn't sure whether I wanted the answer to the next question, "Can people with magic compel others?".

I almost cringed away from the answer as he quietly replied, "Yes. It is a rare ability, especially as it requires so much magic which those with the ability can longer tap into anymore, but some people have managed to withstand the drought of their magic and almost adapt the ability to be able to use less magic."

It was the only explanation. The Drandon's family history was a mystery to most people in Chrysaris and they'd appeared only a few months before the winter months on a grey morning in June.

"Do you have the ability?", I wasn't quite sure whether I wanted to know this answer either as we stepped into the centre of town, the only entrance from the south of the Kingdom.

"No, SP, I don't need compulsion to get you in my bed", he nudged me slightly with his hip. I was thankful that the hood hid the furious blush roaring to life on my cheeks as we finally arrived in the centre of the square.

It was market day.

Shit.

The square was teeming with people, from mercenaries trading sweet honey and vanilla smelling treats and coloured glass crafted into beautiful dangling decorations that clinked together softly as they clattered against each other in the gentle breeze flooding the square.

Orion and I kept our heads down as we made our way to the entrance of the Forest that would lead to Bluebell Cottage, Aphina's Forest, my naming it the Forest of Life now felt as if I hadn't really chosen the name but some thread of fate had woven its name into my head and allowed it to stick.

With a few jabs in the shoulder and sides, and muttered cursed words, we made it to the fluttering forest.

A small tear slid down my cheek as I smelled the rosemary and roses and dew drenched oak trees, would I ever see Aphina again I wondered as we made the final stretch of the journey to Bluebell Cottage under the cover of the luscious canopy, a few rogue sunrays peeping through the small slits in the canopy.

Another few steps closer to finding out what the world had in store for me I thought as I pulled my hood down and made my way along the main path that led down the centre of the forest, others veering off from the wide stretch of sodden and boot-crunched earth into various pools of light and darkness, some that smelled of life and others like the dampness of death.