So I truly was to live here forever. As much as I longed to ensure that Phoebus's word about caring for my family was true, as much as his claim that I was taking better care of my family by staying away—even if I was truly fulfilling that vow to myself by staying in Asteria ... Without the weight of that promise, I was left hollow and empty. It was almost a struggle to not run for the gates and start my hunt for the Imperial Lords myself.
Over the next three days, I found myself joining Kallistê on border patrol while Phoebus hunted the grounds for the Baphomet, unseen by us. Despite being an occasional bastard, Kallistê didn't seem to mind my company, and she did most of the talking, which was fine; it left me to brood over the consequences of firing a single arrow on immortal lands.
An arrow. I never fired a single one during those three days we rode along the border. That very morning I'd spied a red doe in a glen and aimed out of instinct, my arrow poised to fly right into her eye as Kallistê sneered that she was not a faerie, at least. But I'd stared at her—fat and healthy and content—and then slackened the bow, replaced the arrow in my quiver, and let the doe wander on.
I never saw Phoebus around the manor, nor Oberon—off hunting the Baphomet day and night, though Oberon was nowhere to be seen, Kallistê informed me. Even at dinner, Phoebus spoke little before leaving early—off to continue his hunt, night after night. I didn't mind his absence. It was a relief, if anything.
On the third night after my encounter with the Water Eidolon, I'd scarcely sat down before Phoebus got up, giving an excuse about not wanting to waste hunting time.
Kallistê and I stared after him for a moment.
What I could see of Kallistê's face was pale and tight. "You worry about him," I said.
Kallistê slumped in her seat, wholly undignified for a Fae lady. "Phoebus gets into ... moods."
"He doesn't want your help hunting the Baphomet?"
"He prefers being alone. And having the Baphomet on our lands ... I don't suppose you'd understand. The Water Eidolons are minor enough not to bother him, but even after he's shredded the Baphomet, he'll brood over it."
"And there's no one who can help him at all?"
"He would probably shred them for disobeying his order to stay away."
A brush of ice slithered across my nape. "He would be that brutal?"
Kallistê studied the wine in her goblet. "You don't hold on to power by being everyone's friend. And among the faeries, Unseelie Faeries and Seelie Faeries alike, a firm hand is needed. We're too powerful, and too bored with immortality, to be checked with anything else."
It seemed like a cold, lonely position to have, especially when you didn't particularly want it. I wasn't sure why it bothered me so much.
.____________________.
There are days when the dawn proceeds as if it were not ready to come, yet schedule demands and entrance, and so the sun rises all the same. Unable to sleep from tossing and turning the night before, I had let myself wander around the manor, my legs leading me to wherever they wished.
Everything, Phoebus had said to me a few nights ago. What could be so different to ensure the wards between fae lands were weakened? If these attacks were weakening magic itself, what would happen if it spread onto the human lands? I left the questions unanswered as I strolled down the softly-lit halls, my arms wrapping around my torso as an attempt to protect myself against the brisk temperatures.
It had only been moments later had my ears perked at the sound of clashing metal, instantly jolting me out of my daze. A heartbeat, and my hand was on the hilt of my makeshift dagger hanging loose on the belt on my waist. I drew it out, no more than a whisper of steel on leather. If it was an intruder, I could possibly sprint by the close corner where I knew two sentries were stationed. But if I wasn't fast enough ... I didn't let myself consider that option as I slipped down an open corridor.
A benign gust of wind was what first greeted me when I reached an open area of what looked like a training ground. Shelves and shelves of weapons lined the edge of the clearing ranging from the deadliest of javelins, calvaries, and swords to the most intricate of bows and arrows. I eyed them with envy, contemplating if I should steal a weapon of sorts. Though it was not the weapons which had caught my interest but rather the two figures battling in the middle of a sandy ring, sparks of embers and sand flying up when their blades met. I shifted my weight and position to angle myself ever so slightly towards the hallway which I had come from, readying myself to run if need be. Slanting my dagger to reflect the fight in the ring, my breath became shallow.
The first figure struck as swift as an asp, though the second had caught his sword on the broad side with his blade, avoiding the sharp edge, and leapt back sending plumes of sand into the air. But the first had only chuckled which earned a growl of impatience in return. It was almost impossible for my eyes to catch up with their fae swiftness as the second sliced the sword through the air, aiming for the first's unprotected neck. But he deflected, and though the second spun and tried to knock him in his stomach, he blocked him again, flicked the second's sword in the air, and caught it. I had only managed to suck in a breath when the first held the second at swordpoint.
"Looks like I won again, Nolan," he said and though there was something familiar about his voice, I didn't dare breathe too loudly.
The second male huffed and snatched his sword from the first's hand, auburn hair fanning around his face. "For the five-hundred and ninth time Oberon and I still have yet to beat you," he said and slipped into an offensive position, "Again."
"No." Oberon jerked his chin to the weapon racks. "We've practiced enough for today and I need you to return to the war camps to ensure those bastards are not fooling around." He turned to face Nolan. "I trust you enough to make sure they stay in line. Tell them they will be cleaning horse shit for a month if they don't, an order from me."
The male—Nolan—smiled and mocked a bow as he said, "Yes commander," and sauntered off to the racks. Yet he took only a few steps before he paused with his foot on the edge of the ring. "The attacks have been getting worse Oberon," Nolan said and Oberon put down his glass from where he had been getting refreshments. "They've started attacking the northern borders and it has formed a new gap. It's wide enough just to fit a horse at a time. We're not sure when and how the gap was made but I have my scouts searching for answers."
A pause. Then, "When are we going to fight back? By Vonain, Oberon—there isn't much time and you haven't even made the move to ask him about planning an attack of our own. All he does is sulk and glower. He's not even trying to fake it anymore!"
My brows rose. Oberon wiped his face with a washcloth before facing his friend and I fought against a shudder. Another attack. It was spreading slowly towards my village and I had no doubt war would brew if the humans ever found out about them. My heart twanged with fear—real fear I realised at what my family and Aslan would become if they were caught in the middle of it. "I will respect his wishes, Nolan," Oberon said, his voice rising, "We have stayed with him out of hope, and we will continue to hope. And though he is certainly soft these days, I will continue to stay with him and I would suggest you do too. If we fall, we fall together."
Nolan opened his mouth to speak but Oberon interrupted. "Do whatever you want," he said, his face a mask of stone, "Make sure every hole or gap is secured long enough until we can find a way to patch them up permanently. All we can do now is hope, Nolan. There is not much we can do against those teeming filth."
Nolan lifted his head to look at Oberon. Still and silent and weary. Then he said, "Yes commander," and turned to walk away.
But just as I was about to leave, my legs aching from crouching for so long and my head throbbing from absorbing all the new information, Nolan's pine green eyes flicked in my direction. His lips twitched up into a small, knowing smirk though it didn't reach his eyes. "You have company Oberon," he said, before sliding between the shelves of the armoury.
The commander said nothing as he watched his friend depart. My muscles quivered with the restraint of breaking into a run. It was only when the last of his friend's auburn hair disappeared behind the shelves did a sharp sigh reverberate in the arena. Now. I had to leave now—
"You can come out now human."
Goosebumps pricked my skin. Dead, dead, dead ...
Though perhaps it was because exhaustion had nulled my thinking, I took step after step towards Oberon. My dagger had been hidden beneath the sleeve of my tunic, a firm tug the only thing to set it free. Though I doubted that it would be little more than a toothpick compared to a creature who had been born and bred a cruel warrior. Oberon's pale green eyes were ablaze as I stopped before him.
"I would have never imagined yourself being a spy or eavesdropper, Eleena," he said, leaning against his sword jutting out from the ground. His face was still cold but his eyes said otherwise.
My face became hot, and I fought the urge to fidget. The words Oberon and Nolan had exchanged still echoed in my mind. "And I would have never thought you would be such a sagging ass."
Oberon snorted. "The last time I checked Eleena, my ass was perfectly fine."
I bristled at his arrogance and retreated a step, though the corner of my lips tugged upwards. "If you just want to hear yourself talk then let me take my leave," I said, keeping my voice cold yet amused. "What do you really want to know, Oberon?"
He smiled, though it looked forced. "I heard tales that you've killed the Baphomet a few days ago. Is this true?"
A cold stone dropped into my stomach as I narrowed my eyes. Scanning the area for any snooping eyes or noses, I tried to peer through the veil of sun and mist. I found nothing of interest, and no curious eyes and ears attempting to eavesdrop. "What have you to gain from my answer?"
I tried taking another step back, but his eyes help me firm. "Can't one know the answer to a simple question?" He folded his arms across his broad chest—a sign of impatience. I supposed he was so far gone in thinking about his problems in the war camps that he hadn't realised the compliment he'd given me. If it was a compliment.
I shrugged. "Fine. If you are so keen on knowing how to kill it, I just stabbed it through its heart," I hissed but he was smirking at me—a predator sizing up its prey. "Though I wouldn't have to explain if you were here for the past few days."
"I had my ... reasons," he said, pulling his sword from the ground. It left a slit no wider than my finger in the damp sand. My eyes flew up to meet his again. "Besides, it's impressive you managed to take down the Baphomet that easily. None had been left very much alive to tell the tale, much less a human girl." Kallistê had said something similar four days ago. Oberon rolled his neck and retired to the weapon shelves. I followed close behind. He continued, "I would have thought you would be barely clinging to your precious life after the encounter."
"But where were you?" I asked, and he clicked his tongue as if he knew I was just playing stupid. If he was truly the general of Elanor's armies, perhaps he knew where the Imperial Lord lived as well. I shoved down my hope.
His grin faltered and his eyes turned cold. Oberon grabbed a piece of cloth on the shelf and started cleaning his sword as he said, "Away in Elanor's war camps."
"But to do what?" I pressed.
His head snapped to mine and I swore I could see a dark storm in his eyes. Raging and burning like wildfire, made stronger from the horrors he has seen. I swallowed my nausea. "There were some ... problems—if you could call them that—which arose. I needed to sort them out. Though you probably already know that after hearing our little exchange."
I stiffened. "How do you know?"
His brows were raised. "I was trained to notice those things. But I could smell you nearby, mostly."
He gave me a crooked smile and I tried to return it but failed. "Perhaps with your affinity with eavesdropping, maybe you'll someday learn something valuable."
My ears flared with heat. "I—I wasn't ... Sorry," I mumbled. But I ran through what I'd overheard. There was no point in pretending I hadn't eavesdropped.
He finished his cleaning and returned the sword to its shelf, just another deadly weapon amongst a sea of weapons. I stared in silence as Oberon turned to face me again. "Ask it human," Oberon said. "I can smell your nervousness, more than anything."
Alone with Oberon, I swallowed hard.
He stood there, waiting.
"I want to learn how to fight," I finally said quietly. True. After observing the swiftness and ease of the fight between Nolan and Oberon, I'd decided that learning how to fight would be the first on my list to assassinate the Imperial Lords.
Oberon cocked his head—as if in confusion. "What for?"
A sigh escaped my lips as I wrung my hands. "I nearly died on that unfaithful day when the Baphomet nearly choked me to death," I got out, my voice calm but trembling. "I don't want to only know how to run, I want to know how to stand and fight, and not back down." Lies. And truths. A mixture of both.
Oberon sighed sharply, contemplating my request. "Phoebus will kill me for this."
I went rigid, scanning the arena around us, taking in every sight and sound and scent. Then I shrugged, too stiff to be genuine. "Teach me," I said casually, "Teach me how to fight."
But he only strode further down the racks and picked up two sparring pads before confronting me. The silver spots in his eyes seemed to glow under the weak, watery daylight.
"Get in the ring," he said, "If you want to learn how to fight, we better start now."
.____________________.
Hello again readers!
So this is a long-ish chapter to make up for the delay. Quick questions: Was the flow and dialogue good? I had a doubt about that. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter!