The Keeper of Time

Chapter 10 - A new dawn

The more time Frances spent by Carlisle's side, the more she respected him. It felt like being a nurse helping a man struggle out of an addiction with nothing more than his sheer will. Carlisle, aside from being more beautiful than Apollon, used the tremendous reservoir of compassion within his heart to overcome his very nature. His control increased day by day until he was able sometimes, to touch her briefly.

Traits of humour surfaced, making her laugh every now and then in good faith. They traded traditions, view on politics and history, she gave him a few hints on climate and geography around the world while he told her stories she could never have learnt in a history book. He told her of the use of chocolate as medicine, she coaxed him into tasting the last energy bar she had. To her great disappointment, he grimaced.

"Food tastes like dirt", he sighed.

Frances wrapped the bar into its paper.

"So much for bonding over food", she muttered.

Carlisle sent her a sheepish smile. A month ago, a joke about food would have sent him into despair. This is how far he had come in such little time.

"Keep your sweets, you will need it when winter settles", he said, and disappeared into the forest.

Frances sighed. Winter was coming...

Often she sang beside her campfire, huddled below her settlement where now lay a makeshift roof of pine branches and needles to protect her from the harsh wind. Her voice soothed him, its purity reminding him of the beautiful songs he had heard in church. He asked for more, and she never disappointed, switching from the Ave Maria to more modern songs.

Today, she was humming an Irish song, 'The boys of the old brigade'.

"What is this one about?" he asked.

Frances jumped in the air, surprised by his sudden appearance. She had been in the process of roasting a hare and once more failed to pinpoint him. A harsh glare was her response, and Carlisle chuckled while he sat across the fire. The smell of smoke and roasted meat dulled hers; hence the reason why he always kept the campfire between them.

"Do not be cross, I am gifted with inhuman speed after all."

The young woman frowned. Carlisle, if still fidgety, was starting to embrace his new nature. That made him even more dangerous, for despite her numerous years spent tracking, she was entirely at his mercy. But then, this was the reason why she had been called here after all.

"This song is about the separatist army of Ireland."

"They have an army?"

As always when dealing with the future, Frances tried to keep the specifics hazy. But Carlisle's curiosity and will to learn also allowed him to retrieve his inner trust. If his brain could be fed, it meant that his integrity remained. That the beast wasn't in control of his thoughts. Fortunately, the young woman knew next to nothing about the particulars, so she wouldn't lie to him.

"They will, I guess. At some point, it would only be natural that Ireland would wish to be their own country, don't you think?"

"Will they succeed?"

"Er. Partly"

Carlisle nodded. The orange glow of the fire drew shadows across his beautiful chiselled features, a sight Frances had trouble tearing her gaze off. It was unsettling, sometimes, how inhuman his beauty was. So different from the inner glow of the elves, their brightness soothing to the soul while his appearance was addictive, nearly harsh. Unnatural. His golden gaze suddenly lifted to meet hers, and the young woman couldn't help but blush.