The Storm We Start || Book One

Chapter Nineteen: A Family and a Promise

"I don't typically stay up here for long periods of time, nor do I really need food in the first place." Ordephus sat stone-still as Iver inspected the wound at his neck, and if he were being honest, he was terrified. Not only could he sense Iver's displeasure, but there was also still the "No consequences" threat in the air. And the elf currently had his hands near his throat. "I'll have to go down to one of the towns for real food later, but for now, all I have are the potions."

"How old are these?" Noctifer asked, holding the bottle dubiously.

"Well, technically potions don't expire so—"

"Ordephus."

He turned slightly to give him a sheepish grin. "Trust me, you don't want to know."

With a reluctant sigh, Noctifer tipped the potions into his mouth, expecting a rotten taste. He was pleasantly surprised, however, finding that it tasted just fine. It was filling and distinctly tasted of bread and table beer. He would have mistaken it as table beer if it weren't for the consistency. Still, it had nothing on a good, solid meal, but it would do for now.

"It is quite odd," Iver suddenly said, beginning to rewrap Ordephus' neck. "I know it is a sword wound, but it behaves as an unseelie wound."

Ordephus blinked at that. "I suppose I did suspect it wasn't healing as it should have, but I didn't think it would be like that."

"Perhaps it has something to do with what King Ragvnarch said to you?" There were a few beats of silence as Ordephus only stared back in bewilderment. "He said something to you, and you reacted to it before he—well . . ."

"My deaths aren't a sensitive topic to me," Ordephus assured, but shook his head. "Unfortunately, I sometimes lose my memories of what happens seconds before my death. That must be the case in this scenario because I don't recall the King ever speaking to me."

"Is there a chance that you will recall it eventually?" Iver asked, his brow furrowed. "It looked to be important."

"Perhaps," he replied tentatively. "I suppose it has happened before, but that's usually years after the event when something triggers the memory. But I'll keep thinking of it." He then stood as Iver moved to Argent, who still slept as the Dew of the Gods continued to do its work. "Now to find my spellbook."

"Oh!" Iver picked the spellbook up from the side table. "Noctifer picked it up before we ran."

"Ah, not that one. I made that one to carry the common spells since I can't have my real one stolen. That would be disastrous. In fact, Argent should keep it until he's old enough to make one of his own. I need my old one since it has an illusion spell that doesn't need a constant supply of mana like the one I cast on Argent before." He looked to Noctifer. "That's why you had trouble seeing through my illusion. Don't think I didn't know you were trying."

Noctifer shrugged. "I was suspicious, and it turns out I was right."

"Do you need it now?" Iver asked.