Years later. | Arell: twenty-one.
Iftia: Sarein, West Iftia
• Arell •
The snow squall was howling as if by pent up divine rage, a whirl of white cascaded from the skies and clouds of heaven-spun silver. The travelling crew trudged ahead with their vision narrowed and unable to make out the path ahead. This calamity arrived without warning and losing a footing, Arell slipped and fell off the escarpment.
"Your Highness!" Clyde, his knight, shouted.
Clyde attempted to stretch towards him and out of panic, Arell shouted, "Don't!"
The world rushed him by and he knew that pain was coming when he felt his bones jangled in a manner that followed the velocity of his fall. It was impossible to summon his gift in time to stop his fall, especially not when the massive gale was pushing him faster on his way down and gravity was playing against him for some reasons. Though he tried, at least averting the direction of the wind so that he wouldn't be taken too far away. The expected crash arrived and he could only thank for the thick snow beneath for cushioning the impact of his fall. At this point, Arell could no longer move and it was almost impossible to save himself from his fading conscious. Despite how unwilling he was to submit to his fate, everything faded to black before he knew it.
※
The next time he opened his eyes, the heaviness in his head weighed him down and he blinked harder each time to clear his blurred vision. Propping himself up on one arm, he groaned at the unbearable pain that pierced through his entire being and judging from the excruciating discomfort that he was experiencing, Arell was sure that he had broken some bones.
Regardless, he forced himself to sit with all the strength he could gather and his eyes scanned to study his surroundings. His eyes quickly spotted a lady that was sitting by the fireplace, knitting.
"Um, lady?" Arell called out to her, feeling a little awkward that he had been making so much complaining groans of discomfort when someone was in the room with him.
She didn't respond to him, her attention still fixed on her fingers that were moving fast in an exact routine, tangling the strings together into beautiful stitches that extended from her knitting needles. The whole place was silent with only the quiet cracklings of the firewood and the soft clatterings of those slender needles as if they were having their own conversation with threads of wool. Arell tried again, "Lady?"
Arell assumed that she was too focused on her craft to notice the world around her but he needed to talk to her to at least understand the circumstances and if he was still in Sarein. Adjusting his legs off the bed, he walked towards her and stood behind her. She had an absolute focus on the craft that he felt apologetic to even interrupt her so he tapped lightly on her shoulder but her reaction was much greater than he expected. Letting go of her hand, the lady dropped the needles in her hands and they clanked against the ground noisily while she turned and stared at him with widened eyes. It was the first eye contact they shared but Arell stunned when their gaze met.
He hadn't seen anyone with irises as dark as hers but the black within those orbs wasn't soulless nor lifeless at all. Instead, they shone like two pristine stones of onyx, lighting up with a purple flare when they reflected the flickering flame from the fireplace. The lady recovered from her shock rather quickly with a sharp exhale and her hands moved in odd gestures towards him. Arell didn't understand her and asked, "What do you mean?"
The lady pointed to her ears and shook her head before Arell noticed that she had been staring hard at his lips as though waiting for a reply. He slowed down his pace of speech and asked again, "Are you unable to hear?"
Seemingly able to read his lips, she nodded and he knew that he had done something really wrong. He should've revealed himself in front of her first rather than tapping her shoulder from behind. Sincerely, he apologised, "I'm so sorry for startling you."
His politeness earned a smile on her face as she shook her hands and gestured to him again. Judging from the way she moved, she seemed to be asking him if he needed something to eat. Although it wasn't right to be thankful for other's misfortune, he was sort of grateful that she couldn't hear the embarrassing growl of protest that his stomach made since a while ago. Arell nodded towards her and she smiled wider, pushing herself off the armchair. It left him wondering if she was trying to laugh and unsure if she wasn't just unable to hear but also unable to speak.
Arell waited as she worked quietly in the kitchen and by her looks, he assumed that she had to be young. He looked around the house but didn't dare to touch the things without asking. There were several photos of her as a child with two other adults that he assumed to be her parents. However, it didn't seem that she lived with them because the space in this house was apparently too small for everyone. The entire surroundings only concluded that this lady was a very neat person, and her house was well-maintained, warm and welcoming even. It surprised him how comfortable he felt in this space.
The warm aroma of soup and bread soon filled the air and she knocked gently on the table to grab his attention and signal to him that the meal was ready. He pulled on the stool and sat opposite to her. Seeing that she was looking down at her bowl, he reached his hand across the table and tapped on the table beside her bowl. She lifted her head and looked at him, waiting for him to speak and he asked, "What's your name?"
She reached towards the condiments placed at the end of the table and took out a pen and paper — definitely a weird place to store stationeries but her circumstances seemed understandable. Her handwriting was neat and lovely as she wrote: Willow Reverie.
He thought that her name suited her perfectly. Slender and graceful like a willow tree. A smile lifted from his lips and he commented, "How fitting."
She nodded as a gesture of thanks and picked up her spoon. He wondered if she didn't enjoy conversing since she didn't return the question back to him. For the rest of the meal, they sat in silence but it was a comfortable kind of quietness. Occasionally, he couldn't help but look towards her while wondering about the world she lived in.
It was undeniable that he had been to many places in the last few years, even travelling over to different parts of Rivia and Thethia. Arell saw the realm that was wide and far with endless possibilities that made him enthusiastic and inquisitive. He also learned to speak the native languages of each Kingdom fluently and felt confident that he was able to communicate with anyone that he was to come across. Yet, the moment his conversation with Willow began with gestures, it created a whole other feeling within him. Curious as he always had been, he wished to understand her world.
Arell was deep into his thoughts and the sudden sound of the door being pushed open behind him caught him by surprise. He shot up from his seat in alert and he felt a hand on his arm. Turning around to look at her, Willow assured him with a shake on her head. A man eventually emerged from behind the door and he greeted cheerfully, "You're awake, young lad!"
"You are?" Arell was slightly confused.
"I'm the village doctor and you can call me Mikheil!" the man introduced himself enthusiastically before blabbering on, "Willow found you in the shallow woods, quite heavily injured with many broken bones and cuts into the skin. Oh, and yes, it had been four days since you passed out and I was worried that you may take months to recover. But look at you now! I had to say how surprised I am to see that you're up and about which meant that you're recovering really fast after that devastating fall. I just wondered where did you even fall from to be able to land in such a—"
Arell didn't dare to cut the doctor halfway but Willow seemingly knew that he was speaking way too much so she knocked twice on the table and Mikheil scratched the back of his head, "Bad habit, bad habit. I speak too much all the time but I'm here to check on you again!"
While replacing his bandages, Mikheil chattered on while Willow sat back onto the armchair to knit again. This time, she would occasionally glance over to check on them. Arell asked, "Are you close to Willow?"
"Of course, I'm her guardian after all!" Mikheil exclaimed.
"Guardian?"
"Ah, I may really be speaking too much but Willow's parents were merchants who left the village frequently. When she was ten, an unfortunate snowstorm took her parents' lives and she was left all alone since then. I couldn't bear to send her to the orphanage so I became her guardian. Legally, I am as responsible as a parent, so you better behave yourself, young lad."
"Did she lose her hearing and speech because of that?"
"No, Willow's born deaf but she's not a mute. She chose not to speak because she couldn't hear herself and it felt weird for her," Mikheil explained, fastening the bandage on his left arm and the doctor patted lightly on his shoulder, "Alright, young lad, you're in good shape!"
"Thank you, Mikheil," Arell expressed his gratitude. "It must be rude of me to not introduce myself, my name is Arell Alvraz."
"Ah, Arell Alv— what?" Mikheil was happily repeating his name until he choked on his own words and he spun around to look at him. "You're the Crown Prince of this Kingdom?!"
"I'm terribly sorry for not introducing myself at the first moment I could," Arell apologised.
"Oh Goddess," Mikheil quickly went towards Willow and started to communicate with her using hand signs. The lady turned sharply towards him with a confused gaze and adjusted her gaze back to Mikheil to reply to him using a set of gestures.
"Is it rude to ask what are both of you saying?" Arell was trying his hardest to suppress his curiosity but knowing that they were talking about him made it impossible to ignore.
"Um, you know, Sarein is really far from the Royal Grounds," Mikheil scratched the back of his head, seemingly challenged. "We hardly have anyone in the village that travel that far to send you back. You're injured and it wouldn't be wise for you to use magic at the moment."
"I've sent out a message to my comrades about my safety," Arell smiled. "But if you would allow me to stay in the village until I'm fully recovered?"
"This is a small village in Sarein, and merchants that arrived a few days ago had occupied the inn," Mikheil explained. "My house is... definitely not in the state to host a guest"
Willow was staring at Mikheil all along and she gestured towards him. The doctor seemed shocked at first but he conveyed, "Willow says that you can stay with her..."
"I won't be a nuisance," Arell responded. "I'll sleep on the couch."
"B-But you're a prince."
"It has nothing to do with that?" Arell asked, unsure.
"Okay, that sort of made sense," Mikheil mentioned and he quickly wrapped his arms around Willow protectively. "I'm leaving the village for a few days and even if you're a prince, you're not allowed to bully Willow, you hear me?"
"I'll be nice to her," Arell laughed. "Please be safe on your way, Mikheil."
※
A few days passed since then and Arell learned a few things about Willow. She was only a few years younger than him and she liked spending her time knitting or embroidering. Every morning, she wakes up early to take care of her plants in the small greenhouse that was connected to the house. Her days were simple and nice, just like her.
This night, both of them sat in front of the fireplace while a snowstorm raged on the outside. Willow reached her hands out, trying to grab as much warmth from the fire as possible. Beside her, Arell was feeling fine because he had enough magic energy to keep him warm. Noticing that she was shivering beside him, he tapped on her arm and waited for her to look at him before he asked, "You aren't gifted?"
She shook her head and reached for the pocket in her skirt to take out a pen and paper, scribbling as she wrote: I heard that you are.
"Would you like to see?" Arell grinned and she nodded anticipatingly.
"But before that—" Arell dusted a wave of magic warmth through the stole that was covering her and she looked towards her hands, wiggling them in amazement. Using the back of his finger to gently brush against the round of her cheek, he waited for her to look at him against before he checked, "Feeling better?"
A warm smile spread across her beautiful face and she wrote: Yes, thank you.
Arell pointed down at his open palm to redirect her attention. He commanded a cloud of mist with his gift of air and it swirled into a dance. Carefully holding onto her hand, he placed the silvery mist in her palm and suddenly realised the intimacy of this action. Mother always reminded him that his gift was him and he had to be careful when handing it to someone else, even if it was just a fraction of it. At this moment, he could feel the warmth of her palm when the mist brushed against her skin but he couldn't take it back because Willow would find him weird. He decided to just bear with it while he allowed her to play with his gift for a moment.
She carefully brushed her finger against it and Arell felt every trace of her gentle touch. He was all flustered but still found it hard to ask himself back from her when her dark eyes were sparkling so vividly in awe. Clenching his teeth together, he tried to calm his pounding heart and pleading it to stop hammering so ridiculously fast against his chest. Willow's touch was too tender and he was on the edge, feeling almost desperate. He really didn't plan to take his gift away from her until she inched close to it as though wanting to take look and he felt the tingling sensation when the mist brushed against the corner of her lips. Arell reached for her arm to grab her attention and he wasn't breathing when he appealed, "Willow, please don't go any close to it. I can actually feel everything."
She turned red too, noticeable even against the warm light from the fire that bathed them in pale orange. Holding onto his hand, she returned his gift to him and he began to regret telling her about it. Though, neither was it right for him to keep such a thing from her. The magic in his hand dispersed at his will and he tapped on her arm as he called her, "Willow."
Willow did not turn to look at him and his heart felt heavy all of a sudden until the lady beside him moved in closer, almost snuggling to his side. She still refused to look at him but rested her head against his arm. The softness of her ash brown hair became a messy splay on the thick material of his stole but even with all the layers, he could feel her warmth and closeness. Arell whispered, "My mother used to tell me a folktale of threads. Weird, I know."
His voice was soft even when he knew she couldn't hear him, "Mother explained that two souls that were bound to meet were tied by a thread of fate so that they could find their paths together. When their string end in someone else, it meant that they found the person they were meant to meet. My father was the one at the end of her string and I've always wondered who would be the person holding on mine."
Arell dropped his head and his fingers brushed tenderly against the round of her cheek. She tipped her head back to glance at him, the soft blush smeared against her cheeks made her looked even more beautiful. Mist formed between his finger followed when he traced tenderly on the curve of her jaw. This time, a peal of breathless laughter filled the quiet air surrounding them and the sound of it seized his heart. Willow's voice sounded light as tinkling bells, "It tickles, Arell."
I think I found the end of my string.
I'm in trouble, aren't I?
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i couldn't stop writing but it wasn't right to cut the chapter anywhere. so here's a super long chapter.
(is willow also in the same trouble?)
please vote and comment if you're enjoying the read!