Note: Hi everyone. This is Aaron's sister. I decided to let everyone know that this chapter was pre-written by him for this upcoming Saturday, but since right now he's actually in the hospital, he asked me to post this for him today since its the only time I can do it. He's going to be fine.
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Chapter One Hundred and Eight: Crossroads
Xaphile was on cloud nine by the time the door opened and Sinmir walked back inside.
It must have been a strange sight since the prince stopped dead in his tracks and a disbelieving grin slowly slid across his mouth. Not like anyone could blame him, though.
Xaphile was hunched forward with his head buried in his hands and his tail wrapped completely around Ella's middle, purring so loudly that the sound of it filled the room. Her small hands were weaving through his hair, plaiting it in a very elaborate fashion.
But even as Sinmir watched, she paused and took a moment to run her fingers across his scalp, which resulted in Xaphile arching his back a little and purring even louder. The sight was probably borderline incredulous, if Sinmir's wide eyes and startled grin was any sign.
"Well now," he murmured, folding his arms. "This is a sight for sore eyes."
Vrael snorted and flipped the page of his book.
"I'll say," he muttered, casting a reserved glance at the two of them. "Next time we need him to do something, I say let's use this method to coerce him."
Xaphile returned his glance with a small scowl, but Ella dragged her nails through his hair again and his eyes snapped shut. His throat visibly vibrated and the purring noise escalated again. It took him a minute of slow breathing for him to squash the sound down enough to talk.
"Vrael," Xaphile dryly muttered, rolling his shoulders, "don't be a douchebag."
"A what?" Vrael asked, raising a brow. "What's a douchebag?"
Ella suddenly snickered a little bit and shook her head.
"From what I remember of his memories, it's a common insult on Earth. It basically means you're being an ass," she supplied, giving him a smug look; when he glared, she childishly stuck her tongue out at him and smirked. "Hope that clarified things."
"Yeah, it did. Douchebag."
Sparks flew from their eyes when they glared, but Sinmir broke their silent bitch fit by letting out a booming belly laugh. Wiping a few tears from his eyes, he looked at them all with a slightly red face and shook his head.
"Not a one of you ever ceases to amuse or amaze me," he admitted. "Even though I admit that it's rather strange to see, feel free to continue."
Ella paused.
"You desire us to continue even though its strange?" she suspiciously inquired. "Really?"
"Well, why not?" he shot back, then gestured at Xaphile, who was still purring, albeit a little more quietly. "He seems to be enjoying whatever it was you were doing with his hair. In fact, he seemed to be in better spirits than I've ever seen. If he's all right with it, go right ahead."
"I'm more curious as to why he's enjoying it so much," Amelia stiffly said. "It's... strange."
Her voice was oddly tight.
Xaphile glanced at her to see that she was more rigid in the shoulders than usual, as if she were high strung or frustrated. Her face was blank, but she was oddly pale and her movements were also a little jerky. When he looked closer, he noticed a light sheen of sweat covering her face.
Although, that could have been because she'd been cooking over a naked fire for an hour.
His vision rolled when he felt Ella's fingers drag across his scalp and down the fur on his spine.
The feathers on his wings ruffled and his tail fluffed out.
"God, I can't even lie... this really does feel amazing," he finally mumbled, letting loose a soft sigh and burying his head in his hands. "I didn't know that something as simple as having my hair messed with could feel this good. It isn't the same as I remember it."
"Your body is different now," Ella reminded him, eyes jumping and dancing with amusement when he shivered violently at the sensation of her fingers combing his scalp. "That's to be expected. Although I must say, I'm rather amazed by your openness about it."
"Openness?"
"Yes. You seem to be enjoying yourself. That's a step up from how you usually behave."
"Oh... well, I can't deny that."
"Indeed you can't," Ella sniffed, then pulled back and looked at her handiwork; to everyone's surprise, she glanced at Amelia. "What do you think? Will it look pleasing when it is finished?"
"Certainly," she confirmed, not even looking up from what she was doing. "Sinmir, how fares Gus?"
"He'll be in shortly," the prince shot back, furrowing his brows for a moment. "He said he needed a bit of time to think. He's a bit... stressed, right now."
Ella straightened up and looked at him in concern.
"Stressed? Is he alright?"
Sinmir wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
"He's a grown man, little lady. He has needs like everyone else."
Ella frowned for a moment, but then she jumped and flushed red.
"Oh," she squeaked, squeezing her eyes shut and rapidly shaking her head. "Oh... I-I see... w-well, uh..."
When Xaphile's face and ears turned red and Ella awkwardly returned to tending to his hair, Amelia raised her eyes, staring at the wall with a tight mouth.
"You are in the presence of young women, Sinmir," she stiffly scolded. "Even if you are a prince, such uncouth things should not be spoken about so brazenly in front of us."
Sinmir drew back for a moment. He seemed surprised until he looked closer at her, brows pulling into a tense furrow. After a moment of taking in her appearance, he nodded, withdrawing into a taciturn silence as he sat down at his usual place, back to the wall, facing the entrance door.
Quiet filled the air.
Ella suddenly paused with her movements and frowned, eyes narrowing in dismay.
"Shite," she muttered. "I wasn't paying attention and lost focus."
"What?" Amelia asked, turning her head with a frown. "Something wrong?"
"Hm? Er, yes... I find myself stymied on how to finish the overall look I was working on. I lost my focus and now I can't remember the next step."
"I see," Amelia muttered, letting out a sigh. "Would you like my help?"
"Eh? Could you?"
Amelia sighed again, hanging her head for a moment, but then she put the lid on the pot and stood up. Straightening the apron that she'd tied over her old-fashioned dress, she shuffled around Xaphile, who looked up at her in curiosity.
When she knelt down, she was obscured by his left wing.
"All right, what's the problem."
"This braid here," Ella murmured, tugging gently on his hair, then tugged another spot, "should be connected with this one... but somehow, I lost the right braiding path and I can't figure out how to connect them again."
Amelia's eyes widened.
"Wow," she murmured, letting out a whistle. "For someone who's never handled anyone else's hair before, you got very far with this braiding style!"
"You think?"
"No, I know," Amelia corrected, then touched Xaphile's shoulder and peered around his wing to look him in the eyes. "Phil, may I have permission to touch your hair so I can help Ella finish what she started?"
He cast a sleepy-eyed glance her way.
Her irises locked with his own, their glimmering gaze broken only by a slow, lazy blink on his part.
"Sure," he murmured. "I trust you can handle it."
Amelia's smile was radiant.
Her hands worked swiftly.
Ella was amazed.
"How are you so good at this?" she asked, watching as the brunette tied the ends together with a delicate piece of leather. "Braiding hair, I mean?"
Amelia glanced at her in surprise, then slid her hands beneath her own loosely braided pigtails.
"I braid my hair every day, if you haven't forgotten."
"That's not what I mean," Ella muttered, frowning a little. "This style is far more elegant than anything I've seen you wear."
Amelia shook her head, letting loose yet another sigh.
"If you must know, I was taught by Mindy."
"Mindy?" Ella asked, brows furrowing into a scowl. "Mindy Hrothgar? That Mindy?"
"Yes," Amelia said, looking away when she gawked. "Don't look so surprised. If you remember, it was she who fostered me."
"How can I not be?" Ella scoffed, looking like she'd gone into shock. "If you had told me that my Papa had somehow returned from the dead, I couldn't be more surprised. It would be hard for anyone to believe a woman such as her would teach anyone how to style hair."
"Well, that's where you'd be wrong," Amelia shot back. "She and her husband, Asgore, have six daughters altogether yet she still clothed and fed me for three years after my father vanished. It was then that I learned how to style hair the way many nobles are fond of."
"She wasn't a noblewoman, Amelia," Ella countered, folding her arms. "She was married to a drunkard with lecherous tendencies. I can't picture her doing something like that."
"Oh?" Amelia laughed harshly, smile breaking into something... different. "And who are you to judge? Months ago, nobody would have pictured you doing something like this either, considering the very boy you now cling to was nearly whipped to death by your hand while you laughed above him!"
The room froze the moment she said it.
Sinmir's brows rose, Vrael's shoulders tensed, Xaphile's purring died in his throat, and Ella... she could only stare at Amelia like a deer in the headlights. Her eyes had gone wide and her face was completely blank.
A bead of sweat rolled down Amelia's forehead and she huffed, but then, she paused, and the irritation slowly shifted into an expression of horror.
"I... I-I'm so sorry," she stuttered, balling her fists. "I didn't... mean to say that."
Ella looked at Xaphile's back through the net of braided hair.
Even covered by his wingsand hair, the scars were so big and horrible that they spanned his whole back enough for several of them to cover his sides and rib cage. She lifted her hand, as if she were going to touch them, but then she dropped it.
"Don't apologize," Ella told her, not looking at her again. "It isn't necessary."
Amelia floundered, eyes widening.
Her hands started to shake.
"But, Ella, I--"
"But nothing," she mumbled, hanging her head. "Every word was true. I hurt him... badly. And I know that there are many from Chisago who would be shocked by how much I've changed."
"That's not what I--"
"You cared for him long before I even started to. I understand."
"No, you don't! You don't understand at all!"
"Then explain it!" Sinmir finally snapped. "Explain it so she can!"
Both girls stared at him, then looked at each other again.
"I am not myself tonight," Amelia reluctantly muttered, then wiped her forehead. "I am afraid... that my... w-womanly flowering cycle has arrived earlier and harder than anticipated."
"Yep," Vrael drawled, snapping his book shut with a nod. "I'll be outside if anyone needs me."
"No. You need to hear this, too!" Amelia snapped, jabbing her finger at the ground. "SIT!"
Vrael's ears pulled low and he blinked.
"Okay," he mumbled, looking bewildered. "If you say so."
They all waited until he slowly settled back down into his previous position.
"So," Ella said slowly, "you're saying that... you snapped at me because of your cycle?"
"Yes," Amelia sniffed, then sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose, "but... but, it's so much more than that, Ella. I've tried to be as strong as I can for everyone until now, but I can't just smile and pretend that everything is okay all the time, especially when it's most certainly not."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that my worry for Xaphile, and my anxiety about what might happen to all of us if Vrael's heritage were ever discovered by anyone, and the fear of what sort of political nightmare we've gotten ourselves into, and the stress that's been accumulating inside me these past few fortnights... it's all become a tumble of unpleasant emotion. And I wrongly took it out on you."
Ella swallowed and lowered her head.
"I'm sorry for putting so much stress on you," she said softly, looking around the room with a grim expression. "I am aware that what we're doing could be potentially dangerous in many different ways. I appreciate that you've all stood by me."
"Your choice was necessary," Amelia muttered. "It's doing more good than harm. This trip is bringing all of us closer together, and perhaps that was something we needed. We've all been letting loose our demons on this trip."
"True," Sinmir added. "I've seen it here and there. All of you seem to be getting years of stress of your chests, which is good. Bottling it up only allows it to fester."
Amelia eagerly nodded and was just about to open her mouth again when the sound of a knock filled the air.
Everyone looked up in surprise.
"Er, come in?" Vrael called, blinking rapidly. "It's not locked."
Xaphile turned and looked over his shoulder when the door opened and Zelphira appeared.
Everyone stared when she stepped forward, garbed in an opaque white gown that framed her body gorgeously, and... and... well, she looked like perfection embodied. There was no doubt with the air of grace and serenity she exuded that she was a ruler in mind and spirit.
She turned her head and regarded Sinmir with a soft smile of greeting; he returned it with a stoic nod, mouth quirking at the edges. Xaphile stood up and faced her when her arctic blue eyes once again found his, pupils soft and round like a kitten's.
There was nothing but subtle adoration behind the eyes of the one who now looked at him.
He could almost feel it.
"Forgive me for disturbing you and your companions," she said softly, clasping her clawed hands in apology; then she hesitated, looking like she didn't know what to say. "I am afraid that I have come here with a request. Would it be a bother to ask if I may sup with you this evening?"
Ella rubbed her eyes furiously and straightened up.
"Why?" she demanded, sniffing a little. "Is something amiss?"
Zelphira never removed her eyes from Xaphile's, and similarly, he somehow felt locked completely in place under the force of her gaze.
"I simply wish to spend as much time as I can getting to know my brother's son."
Ella seemed unconvinced. She opened her mouth as if she were going to snap... but then, for whatever reason, she abruptly halted. Slowly, ever so slowly, she touched her neck and blinked. Her expression changed and she glanced at Xaphile with her mouth set in a grim line.
"As you wish," she muttered, rising to her feet and walking over to the faery woman. "First, however, something needs to be addressed. Formally."
"Oh? Is that so?"
"Indeed."
And with that, Ella clapped a hand across her breast and knelt down before Zelphira, lowering her head and pressing her free knuckles against the ground. Amelia choked with her eyes bugging out of her head, Vrael frowned, Xaphile stared blankly, and Sinmir looked startled.
But none were more startled than Gus, who walked into the room just in time to see it.
He froze like a marble statue in the doorway.
"I, Ella Rochard, Countess of the Southern Provinces," Ella said in a loud voice, "swear my Undying Loyalty to your house and pledge fealty to you and all kin whom you treasure. I place my very life in your hands. Do with it as you wish."
Zelphira smiled, blue eyes dancing, but rather than speak, she fluidly sank down to her knees and leaned forward, slim arms wrapping around Ella's shoulders and drawing her upright. Gus's face darkened when she pulled the girl into a tender, gentle embrace before drawing back.
"The gesture is appreciated," the queen softly informed her, brushing a stray strand of her white hair out of her fierce pink eyes, "but your heart has always been on the same side as mine. Even without a formal pledge, I believe that you and I were on the same page about your loyalty."
Ella flushed bright red and looked away.
"Ella?" Gus said finally, breaking the moment. "Is there something we should know?"
Everyone glanced at him in surprise.
"Welcome back," Ella greeted, then frowned and stared at him with her head cocked. "No, I do not think so."
"I think there is," Gus growled, looking like a bundle of nerves. "Care to explain why you are pledging your allegiance as the countess to another ruler and offering fealty?"
His tone was unbelievably dark. Sinmir bristled and looked as if he were going to fire a retort, but Zelphira beat him to it. Turning and looking at him through the sheets of long, platinum blonde hair framing her face, she smiled faintly with eyes that missed absolutely nothing.
"Is there, perhaps, something wrong with the sight of fellow rulers displaying their trust and loyalty to each other?" she asked, inclining her head in a questioning fashion. "The country of Aerika, as I remember it, is supposed to be a land of unity and peace. This girl and I are, in no small way, the queens of Aerika. Human or not, she has my blessing in this regard."
Gus looked less than pleased.
His expression, for a moment, looked borderline acidic, but his anger was quickly covered up and he let out a long, frustrated sigh.
"I supposed there's nothing wrong with it," he muttered. "It is as you say. Aerika is about unity. Now, forgive me for my insolence, but why is it that you have come here this evening?"
"She's here to spend time with me," Xaphile hesitantly informed him. "She wants to have dinner with us."
Gus said nothing. He didn't even acknowledge the response with a nod, choosing instead to close the door and sit down not too far away from Sinmir.
"Thank you for welcoming me among you," Zelphira said in a hypnotic tone, rising to her feet and drawing Ella with her. "Young ones, I am most grateful. I am afraid, however, that I cannot stay among you through the night. I have duties and responsibilities I must tend to, after all."
"Not at all," Ella sniffed, then gestured at Xaphile. "Feel free to take your seat beside him."
Zelphira turned, but when her crystal blue eyes landed on his hair, she paused. He blinked when her face softened intensely, and a smile that made her eyes crinkle lit up her face. Like a being made of water, she glided across the room and sat down beside him, scooting in close.
Xaphile swallowed when she set a hand on his arm.
"You're looking well," she noted. "I take it things have been smoothed over between you and your uncle?"
"Yes," he mumbled. "Things are going well."
"And how fares your studies?"
The question made him wince.
"Good," he admitted, feeling a bit uneasy under the scrutinizing eagerness within his aunt's unfathomable blue eyes. "Vordt's been teaching me to train my muscles for flying, and he's also teaching me how to use my magic, among other things."
She nodded, then looked at his hair.
"I see you've braided your hair quite beautifully today. It becomes you."
Xaphile swallowed, hunching his shoulders. His ears, annoyingly, betrayed his discomfort by finally drawing back and pulling down.
"Ella was the one who braided my hair, with Amelia's help."
Zelphira's eyes danced but she merely nodded.
"That was kind of them," she noted, then turned and looked at the other people in the room. Everyone aside from Sinmir returned to what they were doing, but it was more than obvious that they'd been staring at her with equal measures of curiosity, intrigue, and suspicion.
Zelphira glanced around, long hair sliding across the floor with her every movement.
"So, what is it that you all do to amuse yourselves here?" she quipped. "Quiet and safe this island may be, but it holds a rather unpleasant lack of amenities to entertain its residents."
"I've taken to reading," Vrael offered, glancing up at her with a grin. "Amelia has some really interesting books on herbs and healing poultices that intrigue me to no end."
"Oh?" Zelphira asked, leaning forward with an eager expression. "So, is it simply plants that hold your interest, or is it the medicines that the plants can make?"
"Well, both, really," Vrael chuckled, scratching his ear. "I'm still only an intermediate apprentice when it comes to healing magic, so I'm pretty sure that there might be times when I'm too tired to do anything. In those instances, knowing what kind of plants do what might save someone's life someday."
"Ahh," Zelphira murmured. "In other words, you are learning such things because of Xaphile."
Everyone paused when Vrael's long ears turned red.
She had apparently seen right through him.
"S-so what if I am?" he mumbled, looking sheepish. "I care about him a lot, okay?"
Zelphira's resulting grin was so broad that her long, sharp fangs glinted in the firelight.
"Thank you," she said, gently inclining her head. "You are a good boy. I am gladdened that you treasure him so. It relieves me to know that he is in safe hands."
The flush tinting Vrael's ears stretched to his face and he abruptly looked down, flustered.
"I-it's nothing."
"Supper is finished," Amelia finally huffed, grabbing plates and performing the charm that made them glow gold; when everyone came over, she spooned the food onto the dishes and handed them over. "Bad tempers aside, I'm quite confident about how it turned out."
"Smells delicious," Zelphira complimented, taking her plate and a spoon. "Thank you."
"No thanks is needed," Amelia murmured, bowing her head. "You are the queen of this forest, so if anything, I should be thanking you for wishing to dine with us."
"Then let us not thank each other, but embrace each other," Zelphira quietly countered, making her stiffen and snap her head up. "You are all people that he treasures. No matter what those among my clan may say or think, you will always be welcomed back into these forests."
Amelia's face was blank for a few minutes, then she smiled.
"I thank you," she trilled. "I hope you enjoy the food."
Zelphira only smiled, inclining her head before she began to eat.
Everyone did so as well.
Although, for some reason, Gus looked like he might storm out of the room again any moment.
Ella didn't look at him much, though. Xaphile was much more fascinating. The way his hair gleamed in the firelight... his eyes and thick black brows, which were both normally shadowed by his bangs, were on full display. She ate mechanically, to the point where she didn't taste.
She was so fascinated by him, that she hardly noticed Gus, Vrael, and Sinmir leaving to take a dip in the hot springs and have a bit of guy time. And at some point, Amelia must have left, too, although why she did was hazy. It was only when Zelphira shifted her body and set her head upon his shoulder that Ella realized nearly everyone had vanished from the room.
She, Xaphile, and Zelphira were all alone.
He was half asleep, head lolling and eyes droopy.
Ella frowned.
"If you are tired," she said softly, planting her chin in her palms, "you should head to sleep."
Her statement roused him and he took a deep breath, blinking rapidly to wake himself up.
"Not yet," he protested, giving her a nod before glancing at Zelphira. "I'll stay up just a little bit longer since she came here to spend time with me."
"If you are sleepy," Zelphira murmured, smiling faintly at the fire, "then rest, dear one. I will remain by your side for as long as I am able to, even if you are not aware of it."
He blinked, then glanced at her curiously.
"Well, why?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Zelphira asked, pulling back and setting a hand on his head. "Xaphile, this past fortnight has made me both the saddest and the happiest I've felt in a very, very long time."
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"
"It is a wonderful thing," she confirmed, setting her hand on his cheek. "It means that you have started the ripples that will change everything. You are truly loved, my dear nephew. And among those who feel such things, you will always find me and your uncle Vordt."
Xaphile lowered his eyes.
"He'll never love me. Ever. He might stop hating me someday, but loving me is a completely different story."
"You are wrong," Zelphira informed him, smiling faintly. "Vordt has already begun to change for the better. He may snarl, and snap, and growl, but... you must be patient with him. He's been hurting a long time. In a way that I am sure you can actually understand."
Xaphile swallowed.
"The problem is that I do understand it. What my father did was messed up."
"We all make mistakes," Zelphira sighed. "Even we, the fae, are not without flaw. Wisdom is something that only age can bring, and as we gain it, the fewer mistakes we tend to make. I can assure you that you have done Vordt much good. He was lost to the world before you came."
Xaphile sighed, rubbing his eyes.
"I'm tired," he murmured, rising to his feet and heading over to the furs. "I'm going to sleep."
When he flopped down on his stomach and closed his eyes, Zelphira smiled at him.
Within minutes, his exhaustion sank across his body and he visibly relaxed as he fell asleep.
"Poor boy," she murmured. "He was very tired."
"What now?" Ella asked, crossing her arms over her chest to cover her growing discomfort.
"Whatever you'd like," Zelphira said, and she thought about that before answering. A rather pressing question—one which left little room for the sort of emotions she had been feeling well within herself earlier—popped up within a few seconds.
"I offered my fealty because I said that I would if he marked me again," Ella said, then added, "I was surprised by the fact that he wanted to keep it now that the threat is gone, though."
"Sweet child," Zelphira sighed, but when she started to speak with apologetic eyes, Ella cut her off, the edges of her emotions shriveling like dead leaves.
"Don't make excuses and tell me that there are things you can't tell me yet," she muttered. "I already know as much."
"Of course."
The woman's calm answer made her frustration grow. Here she was, feeling vulnerable and confused, and the same woman who knew the answers to all her questions had the gall to be so, so, so calm about all of this! The vindictive part of her suddenly wanted to make the queen squirm, because if she was going to feel vulnerable then so was Zelphira.
"I mean," Ella muttered, barbing the words as best she could, "I was a fool to think you could ever help me with the whole truth."
Her statement had the desired affect.
It managed to shake the woman's expression a little bit.
"You know I would tell you everything if it would be helpful to you," she murmured, "but it wouldn't be. In fact, it would cause great harm, so I will not interfere."
"Forgive me for saying this, but please hold your tongue," Ella snapped, not wanting to give her the upper hand. "You knew all along that he wasn't going to mark me the way I was hoping he would. You knew, knew how I felt, and yet you still got my hopes up."
Zelphira actually looked away, soft lips thinning into a hard line, like she was trying to suppress her true thoughts but didn't really want to at all.
"Try to understand—"
"Oh, I'm trying," Ella snorted, glaring daggers at her. "I'm trying so hard it hurts. It's just painful to be told that the person I love would want to do something so unbelievable, like marking me of his own volition, only to find out that he is doing it not because he really wants to, but because not doing so put him in an unpleasant situation. It feels like I forced him to."
"It was the only thing I could say without jeopardizing the future," Zelphira countered, "and while I do understand your frustrations, you should still focus more on using this opportunity to show him just how much you love him. Open the doors to your heart."
Ella's breath shuddered in her throat.
Her nerves were fluttering so loudly she fancied she could actually hear them.
"I'm trying," she growled. "My heart has already been laid bare to him."
"Then all I will say is you must be honest, open, and empathetic," Zelphira said. "Forgive me, but if I tell you all the things you'll soon learn, you won't be able to do what needs to be done. I don't wish for that to happen, so I will say nothing more of the future to you."
"Horse dung," Ella snapped. "That's complete and utter—"
"Everything happens the way it does for a reason, and when it doesn't, it is because I have chosen to interfere," Zelphira said, closing her eyes. "I have done enough. The rest is up to you."
Indignant, Ella started to protest but then the woman's eyes opened and caught her.
Eyes of sadness gazed at Ella, pained but not because of something she had said.
Her heart stabbed inward on itself.
What she was doing was wrong.
"Fine. I will say no more on this subject," Ella muttered. "You have my word."
Zelphira nodded and rose to her feet.
"I have someone I must speak to before I depart," she murmured, long hair rippling in the firelight when she turned. "Thank you for letting me sup with you."
"Not at all."
Just before Zelphira left the room, she paused with her hand on the door frame.
"Human though his heart and mind may be," she said softly, not turning around, "his body and instincts are that of a faery. He would not have allowed you to touch his hair if he did not care for you to some degree. He would have shied away from your hands."
Ella blinked at her in bewilderment, but Zelphira merely walked outside.
🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗
Cool, but humid night air washed across her body, rippling through her hair. Her tail danced behind her as she made her way across the island to the copse of trees. She heard low voices coming from the hot springs, but they did not belong to the one she was seeking.
Just as she was about to move into the underbrush, she heard a footstep behind her.
Her long ear flicked and she turned around, finding herself looking into a set of storm grey eyes. Their owner was shirtless and he'd obviously just gotten out of the springs since water was still rolling down across his chiseled body.
"So, you're taking your leave?" Sinmir asked, slicking his wet hair back and folding his thick arms over his chest. "I thought you were planning on staying a bit longer."
Zelphira tilted her head, tail dancing back and forth, and fixed him with a knowing gaze.
"I can't," she said softly, stepping forward and pressing her hand against his heart. "I have things I must tend to, but before I left, I wished to speak with you."
Sinmir raised an eyebrow.
"Me? Whatever for?"
A smile washed across her face, making her irises dance.
"I merely wish to say thank you. For offering him so much guidance, and protecting what he holds dear. Your actions towards my nephew, though unseen by most, warm my heart."
Sinmir's brows furrowed when she dropped her hand and stepped away, leaning back against a tree. A sigh escaped her lips as she lowered her gaze to the grass beneath her bare feet, but she jumped when he stepped forward without warning and smacked both hands against the tree, one on each side of her head to keep her from moving.
Zelphira blinked at his arms before meeting his gaze, brow raising in little more than questioning curiosity even after he leaned close to her face, so close that their noses practically touched, so close that his rough blonde beard grazed her lips.
Eyelashes the color of the sun dusted his fierce starlike eyes.
"You go out of your way to thank me for being kind to him," Sinmir murmured, "but in truth, there's no need to do so. Kindness is something that boy not only needs, but deserves. I am more than happy to treasure him, especially since so many others have refused to."
Zelphira's lips quirked into a smile of their own.
"You love him," she murmured, but it wasn't a question.
"Aye, I do, both him and Vrael Daael. It's actually quite alarming how quickly they found a place my heart, but I've always been soft on people who have had things rough."
"Is that why you stay with them? Because they've tasted the pain of true suffering?"
Sinmir blinked, staring deep into her eyes in a way that made him look rather handsome.
"More like," he thoughtfully murmured, "I stay with them so they can instead taste true happiness. I am hoping, at the end of this journey, those kids will find only joy and the freedom to choose their own paths."
Zelphira let out a small laugh.
"I've thought so before, and seen it many times over," she giggled, "but you really are a good man."
He smirked in a wolfish manner.
"I'm not all pleasantness," he murmured, eying her figure. "I am bad, too, when desired."
She responded to his less than subtle flirtation by gently pushing him away with a single claw.
"You are destined to do great things," she said, raising an eyebrow, "but I am afraid bedding me is not on that particular list."
"That's a shame," he noted, waggliing his brows.
Zelphira merely smiled.
"You meeting my nephew was only the first step of many that this world will take towards the right path."
What she didn't mention was that Sinmir Ein Vindrael, prince of Adanac, sometimes threw her off guard since his future was ever changing, much like his mood and his thoughts.
She actually didn't know what sort of future was in store him, but everything she had seen prior to their meeting had been nothing but thunderously clear paths leading only to good and amazing things.
Sensual and mischievous nature aside, he really was a good man, but it was for that very reason that his next actions caught her off guard for the umpteenth time.
Lifting his hand, he threaded his large fingers through her hair and cupped her left cheek. She should have fervently protested his actions and become wrathful for his audacity, but nothing within her was actually offended.
If anything... the warmth that spread to her face through the large, weathered palm caressing her hair actually felt right.
His actions left her completely frozen and she couldn't move, not even when he bent down and kissed her forehead.
Warmth spread from his lips to her skin, and her heart skipped a long beat, but when her pulse started up again it thumped against her ears so quickly and so hard it almost hurt.
Sinmir pulled away and stood upright, looking down at her with a warm smile, and all she could do was stare at him.
It was almost as if her mind had completely shut off.
All she could do was feel, but what it was that she was feeling was completely unidentifiable, and it grew increasingly so, almost as if she were sinking down under water... it all became hazy.
"I thank you for your praise," he murmured. "You have my word that Xaphile will be kept safe when we leave here. I won't let anything happen to him, I swear it."
She stared at him with large eyes as a strangely pleasant feeling welled up inside her, and like a wave of warmth that enveloped her consciousness from the inside, it dragged her mind down.
She didn't understand it, but the feeling was powerful, and it completely overwhelmed her.
"You all right?" he asked. "Don't mean to presume anything, but you've gone a little pale."
She blinked, then mutely nodded, unable to look away from his eyes.
Finding her voice was unexpectedly hard.
"I... I am fine," she said, voice coming out so quiet that she barely heard herself. "I am well."
When he smiled at her again, the feeling within her breast spread with a warm tingling sensation and she swallowed hard, mutedly wondering what was happening to her, why she was feeling so muddled.
"Good," he said, grey eyes twinkling, "I wouldn't want you falling ill. The night is young."
When those eyes crinkled and he let out a deep laugh, the feeling building deep within her, for lack of a better word, imploded and everything but that one sound went silent in her ears.
She felt the trees, the island—the world in general fading into darkness, leaving her locked together with his eyes in a mental state of enchantment, and as she continued to stare at him, her heart sped up, filling her long ears with a frantic throb.
It was only when the focus of her consciousness swirled out towards him that she knew what was really happening to her.
Zelphira slowly lifted a hand and lightly touched her chest, claws barely brushing the front of her dress, and stood frozen.
Everything slowly began to feel like a dream as she sank beneath the surface of her own feelings, lost in a haze of disorienting sensations, and the only thing that felt real was his eyes.
She felt as if she would spiral off into nothingness if she looked away from them, but he didn't seem to notice the change taking place... the fear, the yearning, the shifting torrent of muddled emotions betwixting her heart.
She hadn't seen it coming.
She hadn't expected it to happen, not ever, especially not with a mortal, but for it to happen... and with this particular man.
I've been cursed by my ancestors, she dazedly realized. They seek to torture my heart.
Yes, she knew well what this feeling was, and she genuinely dreaded it... the spark of an emotional flame born in a beautiful dreamlike state, a feeling of sudden, powerful, unshakable love bursting to life and consuming the soul like a sun being born inside the heart.
This beautiful, unending river of heat and joy was the same thing that had destroyed Vordt.
This was the beginning of an Imprint.
Most adults of her kind never saw head or tail of each other unless they wanted pleasures of the flesh or to sire a child. In fact, most of their tribe never marked anyone at all. Lots of the relationships among her kin were only skin deep: solely based on physical attraction, there were very few adult males who actually took a mate, and of the last generation, twelve men had given their mark to a chosen female, and of those twelve, only nine had sired children.
The Sysh family's offspring had actually been a huge surprise, since the mother had given birth to five boys all at once, a group of quintuplets who acted nothing alike yet remained far closer to each other than any other male siblings she'd seen throughout the millennium.
Taking a mate and bestowing a mark, however, was not the same as imprinting.
While a mark was something that could be given in many different ways and was considered by Fae society to be the most sacred of their inherent magical abilities, an imprint was an uncontrollable blessing that could only happen when one's soul connected with another.
It was so rare of an event that none knew how, or even why, it happened, but the lasting result was permanent and there was no way to take it back.
Zelphira could only stand there, riddled with the knowledge of what was happening... knowing that this would destroy her, that her life would fall to ruin... but in the end, she found that she didn't care.
A feeling of white hot, searing, burning, unbreakable love rose within her body, and as it did she felt like she was truly seeing the world in color for the first time.
When she found herself again, it was only because he set a hand on her arm: sparks of pleasant electricity flew up her nerves,
She blinked herself back to awareness, but when she met his gaze again, the feeling of pure, honest adoration flooded through her. His eyes were on her and her alone, and she felt like she would never want for anything again as long as he kept looking at her with those eyes.
It was so strange.... she knew that the two of them barely knew each other, and she also knew that such a thing would never work between them, but all she wanted to do was hold him close. Protect him. Cherish him. And these feelings overwrote everything.
The true depth of what had happened began to sink in only a moment later though, and upon coming to her senses, she had to fight against herself to pull away from him.
Her muscles began to shake involuntarily and her ears dragged low: her mind told her to run from him, clashing woth her heart and soul and being.
"Are you all right?" he asked, looking at her with a serious expression when she jerkily danced backwards and put a decent amount of distance between them. "Did I do or say something to disrespect you?"
"No, never," Zelphira whispered, looking at him hard, trying to burn his face into her memory, to consume it. "I must go now, is all."
When she turned around, walking away from him was the hardest thing she'd ever done.
Her mouth trembled and her knees shook, and she wanted nothing more than to turn around and run back to him.
I need... to talk with Vordt, she silently whimpered. This... isn't good. I've imprinted on a human, and not just any human, but a prince destined to rule a country far from our forests.
She continued walking until she made it to the water, but with a single wave of her hand, the boiling lake parted like the red sea and she continued towards the forest across the heated mud, knowing with every step she took that this was a mistake.
A mistake that should have never happened.
Before she knew what was happening, the world had gone blurry.
He had consumed her thoughts, her being, everything she was.
Zelphira walked through the forest like a wraith, eyes glassy, clawed hands shaking, fighting with herself not to turn around and run back to Sinmir. She took one step after the other, heart aching and breaking, then filling with hope only to be crushed by her own footsteps.
Her soul was tugging at her body, screaming at her to turn around.
Tears began to fall from her eyes, running down her face like rivers.
Her footsteps halted and her knees folded like rubber, for she could not return to him, and yet she was not strong enough to go any further from him. When she collapsed, everything around her felt like it would crumble.
The world felt as if it were ending.
Like her heart were squeezing, knotting, ripping itself to shreds.
She burst into tears like a youngling, every muscle quivering with the need to be held by him.
For what felt like an eternity, the queen of the east cowered in the darkness of her own forests, wailing like a small child... but she wasn't alone for long. Far in the distance, the sound of rapid, uneven wing beats began to fill the air, rapidly grow louder.
She looked up, sobbing and hiccuping, when Vordt crashed down haphazardly ten feet away from her and bolted towards her like a man gone mad. Before she could so much as blink, he was on his knees in front of her, arms wrapped around her shoulders, embracing her.
"Gods, no... I felt it... I felt it when it happened," he quietly hissed, rocking her back and forth and holding her tightly. "Gods, no... what have you done to yourself?!"
"I-I-I... I d-didn't!" she bawled. "I didn't mean... to..."
"Who?" he thickly demanded. "Who have you Imprinted on?"