The Prince's Mark

The Road to Dezmer - Thirteen

The next few days passed by quickly for Tracou. Minor issues had built up while he was gone, like disputes between villagers, marriage requests, and general village maintenance. He also took care of some pressing issues of his own—namely getting his hair trimmed by Serpouhi. His routine, which had previously been hands-off, now involved him going into the village often. Typically Serpouhi handled things for him, but it felt strange to return to his normal way of doing things when he now had an audience.

Pendaer and Mirthal spent much of their free time training. Tracou occasionally watched them, even helping by making targets move. They practiced so often that Pendaer had decided to abandon the sticks and work with the steel.

It didn't take long for Tracou to realize that Mirthal hated being alone. He spent his days attached to someone, either Tracou or Pendaer, and wouldn't go off by himself at all. Even when slept he couldn't be alone—each time Tracou woke up he found either an arm or a leg on him.

For the most part, the villagers treated Tracou's guests as novelties. They were, first and foremost, guests of the lord, so badmouthing them would not be wise. Children from the village sometimes came to watch as the elves trained. Elves had hardly seemed like real creatures before this. Everyone knew about humans and elves and their countries, but it was all so far removed from them that the world might as well have ended inches past Terel.

One morning, as Tracou got ready to meet with Ardit, the last of his father's direct subordinates, Mirthal managed to open his eyes before Tracou left the room.

"Ugh, what time is it?" he asked, blinking hard.

"Just after sunrise."

Mirthal groaned and sat up. "You're dressed already. Where are you going?"

"I'm going out to speak with Ardit."

"So early?"
"Yes?"

"Mmph. Wait for me—I'll come, too."

"You don't need to come with me, Mirthal. Why not go back to sleep?"

The elf shook his head and moved to get out of bed. "I'm coming with."

Why he wanted to accompany him still confused Tracou, but he wrote it off as Mirthal getting tired of dealing with Pendaer. Tracou would be more than willing to trail behind Mirthal as he worked entirely in Elvish if it meant Pendaer stayed out of it.

Yawning, Mirthal tried putting his cloak on but had some trouble. He somehow couldn't find the sleeve, which amused Tracou until it became sad and threatened to make them late.

It wasn't until the two of them went outside that Mirthal woke up. The bitter cold hit them like a continuous slap in the face. Even Mirthal couldn't sleep through it. Tracou shuddered. Frost had gathered on the ground in the night, giving the brown earth and beige grass a faint powdering that would fade by noon.

"It's winter now," he said, his voice visible in the air. Grabbing his wand, he warmed the area immediately around the two of them just enough to keep the cold from chewing on their faces. Too pleasant and Mirthal might doze upright.

"Pendaer will want to practice archery anyway."

"You don't have to do that either, you know. Why don't you have him teach you how to ride a horse? Horses are warm."
"He can't—the queen forbade it."

"She forbade you from learning how to use a sword, but he's teaching you that."

Mirthal considered this briefly. "Maybe you could teach me."

Tracou looked at Mirthal as best as he could without facing him and began to walk. After having known each other for a while, Mirthal had gotten better at catching up to him when he darted off.