SONDER : Prologue

0.4 : ALPHA - AZRAEL, Leader of Lost Souls

Their journey back to Aezareth was not a short one, nor was it particularly long. It was just long enough for the first change to take place.

She had slapped him for his stunt, and not gently. He was sure he'd have a mark, but this battle scar, however temporary, was his crowning achievement du jour. After some preparation for the horses, it came time to set out.

Azrael held his hand out to his little rose, inviting her to mount a dappled grey mare with a long, braided mane. She scowled, crossing her arms, "I'll ride with Luke."

"I'd rather him remain living, Rose," he smirked. It wasn't a whole truth, but it wasn't a whole lie, either. Her face went white and she looked appalled, then she approached the mare, swinging herself over the saddle— or, not. Azrael was there to catch her when she gracelessly tangled in her own skirt with a shriek.

She flushed, and he knelt in front of her, his good arm wrapping around the back of her knees. When he stood, she was lifted to sit on his arm as he raised her up to the saddle, allowing her to slide back in place with her legs towards him as opposed to astride as she had attempted. Once she was settled like a proper lady, he swung up behind her, then pulled her hips closer, relishing the contact as she bumped lightly into his chest. She pushed at him and almost fell off the horse, but he clutched her tighter.

"This is unnecessary!"

"I need to make sure you don't fall, I only have one hand," he teased, breath in her ear, eliciting a delicious shiver.

"Oh, I suppose..." she sighed. "What happened? To your arm?" She turned her chin to look up at him, but Azrael was now looking at Luke, who finished tying his saddle on a palomino.

"Are you about ready?"

"I'll be ready before you two are done flirting."

"We are not-" she started.

"-Going to finish any time soon," he finished.

Luke groaned, flicking his reins, "I'll ride ahead, then! Spare my poor hearing."

The dainty flower in his lap was aghast, but Azrael's heart was thrumming with life. He flicked his reins gently and they started behind Luke, a heavy peace settling in him with her in his arms.

They had only just met, but something felt so right, like a piece of his very soul had been missing for so long and only now could he be made whole. The thought was unsettling. They rode in silence until the town was out of sight, dipping below the horizon behind them as the sun began her lazy descent.

"I'll tell you about my arm," he said after some time. "But I want something for the story."

She shifted, looking up at him, "something tells me bargains from you are not in my best interests."

"This one's an easy one," her incredulity made him chuckle. "I just want your name."

She hesitated, "I'm not sure yet..."

"Sure of what?"

"My name." His brows drew together at her admission. "I need a little more time..."

"What will time help?"

"My memory. It fades, when... Well, you saw what happened."

"That's... Unusual," this was very puzzling. For what she was, he had never heard of such a condition. He wondered about the little rose in his arms, pulling her tighter as though to keep her from whatever had done this to her. "What do you mean, it fades?"

She took a moment to collect her thoughts, choosing the best tact to explain something she barely understood, "I remember things, if I abstain. But I also see things, very disturbing things. So I can't go without for long. I just... Fed," her nose scrunched up at the term. "So I forgot again. I forget different things, but I need some more time for my name to come back."

His brow furrowed in thought and anger simmered in his gut, "who did this to you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Something had to have happened, when you became Svartalf."

"When I what?!" She twisted further to look at him more directly. "I became a— a what?"

"You don't know?" He met her eyes, and that simmering anger grew. Something was screwing with her, if she didn't even know what she was. That must be why she couldn't remember: whatever changed her, didn't want her to know.

Her brows knit together on her forehead, and her eyes shimmered. His heart clenched and raced. She had better not cry! He couldn't deal with that! Why was she even going to cry? He was never good with those tender things. Maybe he should have let her ride with Luke!

They were quiet for a moment more while she wrangled her emotions down, her voice cautiously testing, "will you... Tell me?"

He needed to change the mood. She was still sad. He didn't like that— in fact, it was deeply unsettling, "no."

"No?"

"It doesn't seem fair."

"What?"

"I have to tell you two stories? And I get none from you?"

Her jaw dropped and she frowned at him, the glassiness in her eyes from a moment ago replaced with anger, "I thought we were getting to know each other."

"No, it seems like you are getting to know me and that's not fair, is it?"

"Then, what do you want? Ask me!"

The smirk could no longer hide and he chuckled darkly. "I want to know something."

"What do you want to know? I'll share. One for one."

"I want to know what those lips of yours taste like."

She choked, eyes wide, then whacked him on the chest, "that is not one for one!"

"Sure it is. Actually, you're right, it's not. It's two for one, in your favour."

Her pouty lips worked and, for a moment, she had nothing to say to that as her cheeks flushed.

He laughed, then rested his chin on top of her head, tucking her close. He couldn't get enough of her. She didn't need to know that he would have told her for free.