The sun is so warm here. The air is crisp, the ether without malice. Without faint. I practice my channeling, my connection to the very Aether that runs beneath my feet.
I see her. She looks just like mother.
Just like me.
Except her eyes are a prismatic gold without equal in beauty nor sheen. She smiles, nodding approvingly at me. A thin but elaborate white cloth, a mix between Roman toga and Japanese kimono, wraps around her kneeling form. There is a radiance about her, as radiant, if not more radiant, than the Aether itself. Jeweled bracelets and necklaces decorated her in layers. An earring hangs from each of her four elven ears, longer than a Vasque's. Not like a Vasque's at all.
She claps as I cast my first spell, a perfect sphere of wind suspended motionlessly in the air, creating a cool relaxing tempest that couldn't even ruffle the petals on a flower. She beckons me over to her and I oblige. There's a kinship I feel towards her, much like the one I feel to my own parents.
I rest my head in her lap and she runs her long, delicate hands through my hair. She whispers sweet refrains of old to me in an archaic tongue, both familiar and foreign at the same time. And then a word, a command that I do understand.
"Awaken."
- - -
I awaken in a cold sweat – the sign of a broken fever. Before I can focus my eyes on my surroundings, two thin arms wrap around me in a boa's embrace.
"Lady Raelle!" May cries, tears splashing down and mixing with the sweat on my brow. "I-I-I was so afraid you'd never wake up! Thank the Divines for our Lady's [Life Mend] ability. We thought we lost you!"
[Life Mend]? Why did mother have to heal me? I try to recall the past events, the hazy dream I just had with a familiar face but alien features. My morning lessons with mother in the meadow . . .
I blink for a moment. How did mother know we were in trouble? Did she have some kind of ability to sense our distress? My distress?
"What happened?" I ask.
"You should rest, Lady Raelle. All is taken care of, and you need not worry. You are home and safe."
I squeeze out of her tight grasp, trying to ease myself to the edge of the bed. Something is missing, something I should remember. I want to get up to find out.
"Lady Raelle! You really must rest! Even if your wounds were not lethal, you don't have the strength to move. Please!"
Wounds? Not lethal? In some ways I want to be dead right now. It's my fault that he . . .
"Fvenn!" I shout at the top of my lungs, tears pouring from my eyes. My first friend. My only friend. "We have to go back! He's —"
"The peasant boy that was brought in with you?" May asks, a little bewildered. "Our Lady was able to heal him as well."
I have to see him to make sure. I move to get out of bed but my legs fail me and I crumple to the ground.
"Lady Raelle!" May cries, moving to help me up.
"Shut up, leave me alone!" I yell. I shock May, even myself. Guilt fills me but I push past it, getting unsteadily back to my feet. Fvenn is more important right now. I caused this. If I can get to the doorway, I could use the wall to help support myself. I make it to the wall and with the needed support, I leave the room.
I hear a distant conversation down the east wing of the manor. The familiar voices become more distinct as I draw nearer.
"You nearly got her killed, taking her out there!" my mother's voice rang out. I can hear the anger in her voice. The sorrow. The fear.
"Tell us, boy. Where do you hail? It's quite a walk from Esterly," my father speaks. His voice is more level, calm but stern.
I hobble down the hall, step by step, growing closer to the light peeking out of the ajar door.
"M-my father built a cabin for us on the northern edge," Fvenn says.
"And on our land too. You are no better than a foreigner spy, an interloper!" my mother spits.
Don't you think you're going a little overboard, mom? I need to stop this interrogation before she demonizes the tranquil, kind image I have of her in my head. I half leap to reach the door a few seconds quicker, turning the intricate handle while face planting into it at the same time, the door flying open with me sprawled over on the floor.
"Y'Raelle!?"
"Raelle!"
"R-Raelle?"
The three occupants say in unison as I crawl into the room and try to sit up. Y'Silda runs over to my side, holding me tight against her breast. It surprises but comforts me at the same time; her anger might be misdirected, but she is a good mother.
"I-It's not Fvenn's fault. He helped save me!" I finally manage to say as I wiggle out of my mother's tight grasp. "And he's my friend so please don't blame him."
The three of them stare at me with wide open eyes, Fvenn's eyes tearing up, perhaps at me vouching for him.
"Aye, it's true," a stranger's voice rang out.
I turn to the corner of the room and notice a tall, muscular hooded figure clothed in a combination of leather armor and furs. His arms are crossed, and he leans against the wall – his arms are scarred with old slashes and deep gashes. A large crossbow hung from his side along with dual kukri-styled knives. He runs a hand over his face, pulling back his hood; his face nearly resembles his arms, partially obscured by a heavy, matted beard and mustache.
"It may not have been long, a minute mayhaps, but the lad undoubtedly helped save the lady's life," the stranger answers.
My eyes dart over to my father, his brow furrowed in thought.
"Raelle, what do you mean its not the fault of the boy? This . . . Fvenn is it?" Astoros asks.
"I-I convinced him to come along. To play knight and mage in the woods," I lie. I don't care how grounded I get, or if I take a hundred paddles of the hand I got. Did they even do corporal punishment here? Either way, all I want is for Fvenn to not be subject to any kind of punishment, severe or not. "Like you and mother – when you fought together for the king."
My embellishment causes my father to guffaw and Fvenn to turn red. I hope you two aren't misinterpreting what I tried to say! I look at my mother whose anger has now subsided to surprise. Are you going to blush too now!?
"Still, boy. Fvenn," Astoro says, his eyes narrowing back at my friend. "You should know better than to bring a girl, my daughter, deep in the woods like that."
"I didn't know there'd actually be a Beast of Ruin there!" Fvenn says and quickly bites his lip, my father's lips creasing into a downturned frown.
"That was no Beast of Ruin, lad," the figure says. "A direboar I was tracking. Corrupted by daemonic essence from a tainted font. Got five bolts into it before it ran into you both."
I recall the huge shafts that stuck out of the creature's rib cage, letting flow a dribble of black ichor. I can even recall the poisonous stench of it. That damage came from this guy? Is he some sort of ranger class?
"Nevertheless, even a regular boar or buck can pose a significant danger," Astoros interrupts, distracting me from thought.
"I'm sorry, sir," Fvenn says. His head slumps forward as if awaiting the blade of an executioner.
"And there is the matter of trespassing on our land, construction without permission of the landlord," Astoros says, "Punishments for which typically are deferred to the town magistrate."
I imagine his entire family lashed, stockaded, sitting in a cesspool cell surrounded by rats and decay. I open my mouth in defiance.
"However, as Lord, it is my discretion to whether I defer or make summative judgment myself," my father says, eyeing me in anticipation. My mouth closes and I sit quietly, letting him finish.
"In lieu of punishment and eviction, if you swear to be in indentured service to me, to serve my family and I as servant and guard, and to never put my family, servants, and property in danger ever again,I shall release you after fifteen years of earnest service and your family will be allowed to stay on the land following a lease agreement of that same term."
Fvenn nearly falls out of his chair, clambering to the floor and kneeling.
"Yes my lord. Thank you, my lord! I swear, my lord!" Fvenn stammers in thanks.
I let out a heavy, exasperated sigh that draws the attention of all eyes on the room.
"And you are forbidden from entering those woods again," Y'Silda says, her eyes narrowing onto me.
"Y-yes, mother."
"Huntsman Nystrom," Astoros says.
"Yes, my Lord?" the figure responds.
"It will be first light soon. Can you escort the boy and inform his parents of the arrangement? He is to return first light tomorrow to live in the servants' quarters."
"Aye, sir," Nystrom said with a bow. "Come."
Fvenn and I exchange last looks at each other as he follows Nystrom out of the room. When the door is closed, the entire room is bathed in an unbearable silence. My father and mother both look at me and then each other. It's at times like this I wish I had telepathy – a skill used among guild mates, to read their minds. My father gives a nod of understanding to my mother, prompting her to help me to my feet and lead me out of the room, leaving my father in the chair to his thoughts.
I hardly remember the walk to the room, having expended more physical energy coming to Fvenn's defense than I realized. I do recall her careful hands tucking me into bed, her orders to May for me not to leave May's sight, and her lips leaving their love on my forehead. And then blissful sleep.
. . .