Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1519901.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Original_Work
  Relationship:
      Rezule/Shale
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Medieval, Fantasy, Smut, Lemon, Plotbunnies
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-04-25 Updated: 2015-04-05 Chapters: 19/? Words: 52484
****** O B L I V I O N *hiatus* ******
by TelanaMonteith
Summary
     A young soldier in the medieval Roquea Mountains knows his fears, but
     what will happen when he finds himself in the arms of the enemy?
     Abuse, Anal, Angst, B-Mod, BP, CBT, Contro, HJ, M/M, OC, Oral, Other,
     RapeFic, Slave, Solo, Tort, Toys, Rom, Minor1, Voy, WIP
Notes
     So this is my first chapter for my first story I am posting to AO3!!
     It's been doing well on other sites, so I thought I'd try it here.
     Should post remaining chapters fairly quickly, hope you enjoy!
     *** There are major warnings in this chapter for sexual explicit
     torture and gore***
***** Tenacity *****
Rezule was surprised at how effectively the thin piece of leather split the
skin. He felt his body arch, and his muscles clench in response. The burning
pain was a jolting contrast to the winter air. His head flew back with the
second strike and his vision was taken to a steady sight of softly falling
snow; a tranquil juxtaposition to the violence. He ground his teeth together,
tenaciously demanding himself not to utter a sound. By his will alone he would
suffer in silence.
Another sound of rushing air and he could feel the scorching river of blood
burst from his flesh and trickle down his back, pooling into the crack of his
bare buttocks. It cooled by the time it reached his thigh and then dripped onto
the thin layer of freshly fallen snow; a bright red onto stark white. His hands
were numb in their bindings and his feet could no longer feel the unforgiving
stone floor of the courtyard pathway beneath him.
The yard was still and silent, despite the five hundred darkly clad soldiers
that surrounded him like a dead sea of black. His blue eyes blazed out at them
challenging, no, daring them to move, to raise their voices and yell with joy
at his punishment. All stood silent. Petrified, not a single soul even shifted
their weight to the other foot. An entire army frozen, as if a great northern
wind had chilled them to the bones in a command to halt. The only sign of life
was their breathes, rising like ghostly snakes into the snowflakes.
Another whoosh, a loud crack, and the splattering sound of blood spraying onto
the snow.
The cold kissed courtyard darkened from Rezule’s vision and he snarled, letting
anger flow through him to keep himself awake as his visible breath escaped like
steam from the points of his teeth. His growl and the flash of enamel had the
soldiers in front of him show the whites of their eyes, liked a herd of spooked
yearlings, but none moved.
The last blow came swiftly.
As the bindings on his hands were cut, Rezule fell to his knees and let his
head hang with his limp arms. The last thing he saw was the ground rushing
towards his face, then his world went completely black, like he had fallen into
the darkness.
******
It wasn’t the ferociously burning pain on his back that woke Rezule from his
restless dream of dragons and charcoaled forests, it was the feeling of a vice
grip on the back of his neck. The thumb and two forefingers were like cold
metal pincers that sent sharp pain to his temples. He gasped and opened his
eyes, vision too blurred to identify his assailant. The grip pull him up onto
his feet from the wooden cot, where he had been facedown, and slammed him
against a cold stone wall. A hiss escaped him, as the movement tore the fragile
attempts of scabs across the wounds on his back. Blood welled down his back,
and the stone was frigid and unforgiving against the fevered flesh of his
front.
The grip on his neck was relinquished and his knees would have buckled beneath
him if it weren't for the quick hands that grabbed both of his wrists and
snapped then into the shackles that hung on the wall above his head. His teeth
grit from the pain of moving his arms up and the stretch of his skin that came
from his wrists solely bearing his weight.
Rough hands tied a rope around both of his ankles tightly and they were pulled
in opposite directions, spreading his legs uncomfortably apart.
The brick of the wall was slowly coming into focus in the dim light. Rezule
didn’t move his head as the source of panting from behind him spoke.
“Did you really think, bright eyes, that twenty lashings would be your only
punishment?” The words were an icy fire that curled around his vertebrae like
an eel and sank into his abdomen to hide. He knew that voice. Had seen those
cruel sharp features from a distance during his time as a child soldier, and
even now, turned the other direction when the name was mentioned. Haudly. Those
features, less severe by the sight of fewer years, haunted Rezule’s darkest
nightmares.
Rezule had dragged many bodies of men out of these dungeons and had seen their
bloodied thighs after the hours of inhuman screaming that had reverberated
against the stone. Haudly was known to have a certain appetite.
Rezule had thought the first torture that he experienced under this man’s touch
would be his last. He let his hot forehead rest against the stone and closed
his eyes in defeat. He had been sorely mistaken.
Cold hands grazed up the right side of Rezule’s torso, lingering and the slight
curve of his waist and then coming up and forward to drag across his nipple.
Bile rose up in his throat at the touch.
“You’ve grown much since the first time we spent a night together,” the voice
almost sounded sad. Rezule didn’t dare think it was nostalgia that seeped into
those words. “I won’t enjoy this as much as I did back then,” Haudly’s words
were whispers in his ear now, the dry cracked lips scratching the skin of his
ear, “ But I have been waiting for us to be reunited for a very long time.”
Dread. That’s what he felt. Like a slick coat of oil, it gurgled in his belly,
rose up at the back of his throat with the bile, and sunk down into his
abdomen.
“You know...” Haudly began as he removed himself from petting Rezule and moved
away a couple steps. Rezule heard the crunch of his boots against the dirt
floor and then the innocent sounds of metal instruments being carelessly
rummaged through. “If I didn’t know better, I would say that your good ol’ da
did try his hardest to keep me away from you. I thought after I had expressed
how much I enjoyed--”
“Stop,” Rezule barely recognized his own voice, it was weak and flat, the air
feeling like sand against his tongue.
“What was that, Bright Eyes?”
“I said stop,” his voice was a little louder, but Rezule couldn’t get it to
stop shaking.
Like a viper, Haudly’s hand lunged and clenched hard round Rezule’s flaccid
penis. He tied a leather strap around the base, and kept a firm grip. Rezule’s
leg muscles contracted and strained to move his hips away from the hand, but
this only sent his butt into the scrawny stomach of Haudly.
“I still can’t hear you.” his voice was low.
“S-s-stop” Rezule’s breath was ragged with panic. He caught a glint of silver
out of the corner of his eye.
“You know, Rezule, how well that word works with me, hmm, don’t you?”
Rezule squeezed his eyes shut. Either trying to block out the old memories from
his time where his voice had yet to deepen, or close off his vision to what he
knew was coming next, it didn’t matter. The pain was excruciating.
Haudly’s other hand was guiding a smooth tube of metal into the eye of Rezule’s
penis. The girth of the object was too much. One hand steadied Rezule’s flesh
and the other slowly added pressure to the object, which did not progress
easily. His member felt like it was burning from the inside out.
His urethra fully stretched, and hot drops of blood dripping to the ground,
Rezule tried to rid himself of Haudly’s touch. He fought his restraints with
all he had, but he only succeeded in tightening the ropes around his ankles and
splitting the skin on his wrists. Crimson streamed down his forearms. Haudly
finally stepped away and let go.
Rezule now hung limp, his skin prickling with the shivers of a fever, and his
head swam with the exertion from his struggle. Haudly’s sticky fingers grazed
the nape of his neck. Rezule had no energy left for revulsion.
“No energy left? You used to be such a fighter-”
Rezule whipped his head back, so his skull collided with Haudly’s face. There
was a crack, but his head hurt to much for him to have broken Haudly’s nose,
probably just got him on the forehead, or cheek bone.
“Son of a,” Haudly cussed, but recovered quickly.
A chain was swiftly strapped around Rezule’s neck and pulled tight. He knew
this tactic. Used it himself a few times. Reduce the enemy's airflow, causes
less oxygen to the brain. His movements become sluggish, his thoughts become
instinctual and easy to predict.
The chain dug painfully into his trachea as it grew even tighter. Rezule tried
to cough, but his breath just came out in a fast wheeze. He hoped it was tight
enough for him to pass out.
Rezule was just nearing the edge of darkness when pain brought him back. The
ice cold of metal entered his anal sphincter, and the dry metal burned against
his dry flesh. Then he felt the three prongs of the device that was inside of
him, move apart. The burn made his eyes water and his mouth gape open in a
scream of silence. He had no air to voice his torment.
“Not used to this I suppose,” Haudly slapped his butt cheek as the device
spread him wider, his voice gruff.
Rezule heard the small sound of a blade against a leather sheath, and felt fear
grip his chest. He used the remaining energy he had and reefed on his limbs. He
gave it everything he had left, jerking on the chains. All the while, Haudly
was using the blade and cutting slits into the inside flesh of Rezule’s
passage, and then turning the device to open him wider. Fingers explored inside
of him, slick with blood. They rubbed his prostate, and he felt himself
becoming rigid. The metal piece and the band restricted and hurt. His gasps for
air, were mixed with the cries of his pain.Rezule’s screams echoed through the
room, and as he struggled he felt the blood pour down his legs.
Muffled shouts mingled with his screams that had made there way down through
the slats of the wooden ceiling above. Orders were being bellowed and the swift
steps of men obeying rained a thin layer of dust down into the cell. It created
an ethereal stardust quality, but Rezule could not remove himself from the
stench of terror and blood from the scene.
The cell door burst open as the chaos escalated above their heads, and a
scrawny boy soldier stood in the frame, his eyes sunken in his pale face. His
complexion did not improve when the scent of blood hit him, and his saucer
sized eyes took in Rezule’s body.
“Speak boy!” Haudly demanded, his rage prickled at being interrupted.
“W-we are under attack sir.”
***** Lost Things *****
Shale halted his horse beside his commander. The morning was crisp and the soft
snowflakes landed on his red cloak, oblivious to the violence that his men had
committed in the valley below. Shale’s green eyes surveyed the scene before
him, watching the men in red cloaks and white furs dragging the dark bodies of
the Cayphaellian soldiers and large chunks of debris so they could camp in the
valley for the night.
Commander Lark had not meant to wipe out the first large village in this
country that they encountered, but the presence of the five hundred strong
soldier base had led to a great retaliation and their northern soldiers were
sent to slaughter anyone willing to take up arms against them, which had been
every Cayphaellian man, able of body or no. A few younger females had
surrendered but had been given to some of the captains as bed slaves. Women
from this country would not hold the information that they sought.
“Such a strangely peaceful morning, isn’t it,” Commander Lark remarked as his
horse shifted its back end to rest it’s toe against the frozen ground.
“It is,” Shale replied, his voice carrying through the sharp air. Before they
could develop the conversation into the task of the counted numbers of horses
and food the army seized, a young squire rode up on his fluffy bay mountain
pony. His nose was dripping and red from the cold, but his mittened hands were
confident on the rein as he whoa-ed his pony and his bright youthful eyes held
determination.
“Commander Lark, Captain Shale,” He bowed his head, eyes on the ground
respectfully as he addressed them both. “Captain Rill has found something that
you must see, it is urgent,” He spun his pony around, the spunky thing giving a
snort and shake of it’s mane at such an abrupt command, “you must follow, we do
not know how much longer he will last.”
Lark and Shale looked at each other quizzically. Had they found a living
soldier that was willing to answer their questions?
The page gave his pony rein and his booted calves came off his pony’s sides to
give a good kick. The pair took off cantering down the small hill, without
waiting for an answer. The Commander’s and Captain’s chargers followed the pony
at a brisk trot, curious expressions on both of their faces.
 
***
 
Half of the large building had been burnt down, but the west side was still
intact. It had once been a menacing building, half stone and wood, covering the
town in shadow. Shale remarked to himself how it now stood like a wounded
animal.
 The boy led then to a side door, reassuring that Captain Rill had checked to
make sure it was stable. He led them down several hallways until they found
Rill standing on top of s flight of stairs. His posture was stiff and his eyes
were wide starring blankly at the wall in front of him. He turned when he heard
Shale and Lark and relief flooded through his expression.
“Brother,” Shale placed a hand on his shoulder once they reached him, “Is
everything alright?”
“Aye, but the sight of what I have to show you will shake you to your bones.”
Lark and Shale nodded. They had seen terrible things before, but Rill was as
pale as the snow. Usually Lark would demand what was going on, but the page’s
wide eyes and now Rill’s dull skin were enough to quiet his demands. Rill
turned and led them down the stairs to an unremarkable door of wood, albeit it
hung a bit ascu. “Brace y’rselves.”
Shale swallowed as Rill opened the door to a dark room with stone walls. The
only light was from the lantern that the page carried, and as he walked into
the room both Lark and Shale came to a halt mid step.
The figure chained to the wall had evidently been whipped and tortured. Blood
covered the whole back side of his body, both old brown and dried, and bright
red that dribbled to the floor. His ribcage heaved with every breath and
emanated a loud wheezing, as of something was constricting the passage to his
lungs. The cuffs holding him up were caked in blood and twisted around and one
foot had been freed from a rope with the burns to prove it, as if he had
struggled for a great amount of time. Both the opening of the man and his
genitals were glazed in the colours of red and rust, the glint of metal in the
dim light showing the evidence of the method of torture.
Shale tore his eyes away and squeezed them shut. The Cayphaellian army was
known to be vile to both prisoners and its soldiers, but Shale never thought he
would ever witness something like this while fighting the war. Any possible
death by sword or other weapon yes, but this long drawn out torture, it was
enough to make him entertain the thought of losing his breakfast. Shaking the
thought, Shale came to his senses and grabbed the lantern from the page as he
instructed him to fetch a healer from the hospital tent as fast as he could.
Both Rill and the Commander were still staring when Shale slowly neared the
figure with the lantern, bringing the soldier’s injuries in more light. He
heard the Commander step out of the doorway and relieve the contents of his
stomach onto the dirt floor.
“We raided the village two days ago, does that mean he has been here like this,
this whole time?” Shale asked Rill without taking his eyes off the prisoner.
“I’m not sure, there isn’t much evidence, but my bet would be yes, possibly
even longer. Why would any army do such a thing to there own?” Shale didn’t
have an answer to his brother’s question, but as he stepped closer with the
light he had to look away again. Someone had tried to kill him, and that was
evident by the dagger, stabbed up to the hilt, in the man’s abdomen. It moved
with every breath the man took and Shale shuddered as he came close enough to
touch the man and see his face more clearly. It was a young face, couldn’t have
been older than 20 winters, etched with such pain, Shale’s stomach dropped. The
soldier’s eyes were thin slits, but they moved to look at Shale as he lifted
the light.
“We have to get him down Rill, he’s still conscious.”
“B-b-b-but we should wait for the heal-”
“Rill! We must help him. How can you charge into battle with such bravery but
are shaking when asked to help a man in pain. We need to break the chains that
hold his wrists, now! Use your sword and I will catch him.”
Feeling half insulted, Rill drew his sword, the blade making a characteristic
“shing” as it was drawn and its polished surface flickered in the lantern
light. Trying not to look at the injured man, Rill put his sword through one of
the links in the chain and twisted it against the bracket that held it on the
wall. Shale positioned himself behind the man and grabbed him under his arms
and gently lowered him to the ground after the link in the chain had snapped
under the twisting weight of the sword.
The man cried out as he was moved, but it barely came out because of the tight
chain that was strapped around his neck. Shale went to remove it but was
stopped by a commanding voice.
“Don’t remove anything until I see him! You could do more bad than good.” He
turned to find Sheera, the most skilled healer in the ranks. Shale let out a
breath, and wrote a mental note to reward the page who had managed to remove
her from her other patients.
As Sheera kneeled down to inspect the man, she didn’t even flinch. Only Shale
and perhaps a few others who knew her would have seen the darkening of her eyes
and the slight shake in her breath as she examined the soldier.
Opening the bag she had brought with her she turned to the page, “I need more
blankets, boiling water and some kindling to start a fire, be swift.” The page
dashed out of the room once more. Shale just now realized why that kid must be
so skinny.
His attention was brought back to the man as Sheera removed the chain. The
man’s eyes flew open and Shale was startled to find bright blue staring up at
his face. They were heavily glazed with pain but unmistakably not the muddy
brown of all other Cayphaellllian’s Shale had seen. Was this man a prisoner
from another country or some type of hybrid? A full, ragged, and much slower
breath was drawn in by the man, then he started choking. Sheera massaged his
throat and instructed Rill and Shale to help tip him over on his side so he
could breath easier while she quickly tended to the rest of his injuries. A
whine escaped from the man as he was moved, and he squeezed his eyes closed and
gritted his teeth. Shale couldn’t even begin to imagine what kind of pain he
was in.
 
***
 
With the chain off from around his neck, Rezule could breath freely. His eyes
opened in surprise. He wasn’t in a state to have coherent thought, but he had
assumed it was his own people who had come back to him. Instead he awoke to a
pair of green eyes and a red and white cloak. Then he smelt the fire just
before he felt the dagger being slipped from his abdomen. He screamed,
astonished that he could still make a sound by how raw his throat felt. Strong
arms held him down as he tried to escape the pain of hot metal against the
wound. He kept his eyes on those green ones, not willing to let the gaze go
until the pain was gone. He smelt burning flesh and thrashed with all the
strength he had left in his body. He managed a few blows against solid muscle
and watched as the green eyes narrowed in pain, but he was done quickly, not
having had any food or water for what felt like days. He felt his limbs quiver
with the exertion and let his head rest back on the ground. A gentle voice
began murmuring and the green eyes got much closer to his own, but he couldn’t
understand the voice through the pain he still felt. It was like blood rushing
through his head and he could feel his heart beat in his cock. Every painful
throb. He wished with everything he had that they would just kill him. He
looked into the green eyes pleadingly. If this was truly the enemy that had
attacked, why hadn’t they killed him?
 
***
“The dagger somehow missed the abdominal wall completely, and only got muscle.
What a lucky bastard,” Sheera mumbled to herself as he inspected the dagger
wound, the hot knife she still held in her hand from cauterizing it.
“You need to keep holding him down while I remove everything else.” She said to
Shale who just nodded. Hearing that young scream from the man had moved
something in his chest. He felt the need to hold the man close to him and to
run his finger’s through his midnight coloured hair. Those blue eyes had stared
into him with such sorrow and pain, begging Shale to remove him from the world.
Shale couldn’t do that. He had killed many men, but this one, this one he felt
like he had to save. The colour of his eyes proved he was no Cayphaellian, and
what they had done to him made Shale sure that he would not see them as his
people either.
He watched with wide eyes as Sheera removed a metal piece from the man’s cock,
blood following after it. Then she untied a leather strap from it’s base. The
man squirmed in Shale’s arms and gasped, and then came, his hips thrusting the
air. The semen was mixed with fresh blood and spread all over the already dirty
floor. Before the man could fully recover from that and stop his hips from
bucking, Sheera removed the other piece of metal from his opening. Shale
watched the blankets she had placed under him became soaked with blood. Sheera
was quick and looked like she new what she was doing using clean blankets and
clothes to try to stop the bleeding. Shale looked away and back to the pale
blue eyes. They staring up blankly at the ceiling, the man’s mouth opened in a
silent cry of pain.
“I’ve stopped the blood for now but I’m going to need to make up some
poultices,” Sheera said calmly while she wrapped the man in a clean blanket
while instructing both Shale and Rill to hold him up so she could get it all
around him. He wasn’t a big man, but was tall for his young age and well built.
He was smaller in stature than Shale but was still quite heavy. Shale looked
down as the man stared absently into the air, the blue eyes dull and glazed.
The man’s body shook uncontrollably and as Rill helped Shale lift him up to get
him out of the gory room. Shale ordered Sheera to make preparations for the man
to stay in his tent as they made their way slowly up the narrow stairs. It had
a fire and thicker blankets than the hospital tent could spare and surprisingly
nobody questioned his order, not even the commander.
***** Finding *****
Rezule opened his eyes slowly, his lids felt crusty and swollen. His head
throbbed, and his mouth felt like it was full of sand. His body ached
everywhere. Had he been wounded in battle? His eyes tried to take in his
surroundings without moving them too much. He was in a red tent that was shaped
in a circle with a whole at the top of it, letting some light in. A fire burned
right underneath the hole, melting and evaporating the snowflakes that came
through as it’s smoke escaped. This wasn’t a Cayphaellian battle tent, that he
knew for sure, but who’s was it then?
He tried to sit up and get a better look but his head swam and the room spun
around him. Slowly, he lowered himself back into the soft plushy pillows and
furs he was incased in. Definitely not Cayphaellian. Their cots for the injured
were nothing more that wooden tables with a blanket. Most survived but it was
never a comfortable stay when you were injured.
Sounds of a battle camp floated around him; the clinks of armor either worn,
being repaired or cleaned, and the gentle sound of lounging horses, all muffled
by the thick red blanket that made up the walls of the tent. Rezule rolled to
his side a little bit so he could try to see better around the room. The
blankets and furs he was swathed in were set up on a cot. Furs were bundled
underneath him as well, making it quite comfortable. There was what looked like
a chest at the foot of the cot and a table with papers and a quill and ink jar
set up against the red blanket a few feet away from that. A t-shaped bar held a
beautiful set of shining armor. It was polished dark mahogany leather with the
crest of a bear tooled into the breast plate. Rezule balked at this and his
exploration of the tent stilled. He had only heard of this crest in legends.
His mother used to tell him of a great king that used to rule south of the
Roquea Mountains, where Cayphaell stood now. He was a just King and was good to
his people. While out hunting he encountered a white spirit bear. The spirit
bear was a dazzling white with a pink nose and ice blue eyes. Blinded by its
beauty the King missed his chance to kill the animal. The King lusted after the
animal’s white pelt ever since, seeking it out season after season, even using
his own army to help locate and slaughter the animal. He finally found the
bear, at the base of a mountain and took its hide. Slightly saddened that he
had killed something so beautiful, the King did not have the bear skinned for a
rug, instead, he had it woven into his cloak.
About ten years later a strange traveler, dressed in silver fox furs, came to
seek his council. The stranger told of his journey’s to the North and how a
great plague had befallen the people in the mountains and that it would soon be
here, but there were healers that would be able to help cure his people.
Terrified the King sent men into the northern mountains to verify the
stranger’s story and offer healer’s gold to come and save his people if it were
true, but none returned. Shortly after, the stranger disappeared, and the
kingdom’s people began to get sick. No healer the King could obtain had the
skill to cure what haunted his people. The population plummeted and whole
families were killed.
The King had originally seven sons. The youngest four succumbed to the plague,
and the King held their little bodies until they gave out. The King cried for
help and reached out with his swiftest riders seeking aid to whatever
settlements they could find, when the silver fox clad stranger came back to the
small kingdom.
“My dear King,” he said. “I have ridden back north and asked the healers what
the cure is for your people. They say you must search for the White Bear with
eyes like the sky, and he will lead you to a pool that contains healing
properties that will wash your people of the shadowed death.”
Hearing this, the King fell to his knees in grief. “I have killed the great
White Bear,” he lamented to the traveler and those in his council. After this,
the traveler swiftly left, and was never seen again.
The King had not completely given up hope, and sent all of his men to search
through the mountains where he had killed the bear and find the pool of magic
water. When his eldest and strongest son took ill, however, he stopped trying,
and spent his days by the bedside of his son, grieving over his sickness and
the deaths of his younger son’s.
One night, with his son very near death, the King’s grief overtook him. In a
fit of rage he ripped the white fur cloak from his body and threw it into the
fire, cursing his greed for a such a pretty white pelt, and cursing his pride
for wearing it all these years. After the fire had been put out and the King
had fallen asleep in the chair next to his son’s bed, the white bear came to
him in a dream. Its blue eyes shone and it’s pelt was more magnificent than he
remembered. He knelt down in front of the beast weeping and begging for his
son’s life to be saved.
 The White Bear bowed his head as if in sadness. “ Your son has already passed
into the sky of the after life,” said the gentle, almost airy voice that came
from the tooth filled jowls of the bear. “I was unable to help him, because you
killed me.”
The King looked at his knees as he wept, accepting all of his sons’s death as
penance for killing the bear. “But what of my people? Many more will perish and
I have not the power to fix the mistake that I made so long ago.”
“Oh, but you do dear King.” The bear said, his blue eye’s blinking slowly. “You
have taken my life and now you must give it. Once you have given me life, you
will find the water that will remove the shadow that haunts your people.”
The King began to protest at these words. He could not create life. He could
not bring a bear back into existence. His dream then faded into nothing but
darkness.
When the King awoke he found his eldest son dead in his arms. Such was his
grief of another son that he could not bear to lay eyes upon the others. He
sought solace with his Queen. She grieved just as much, but knew of the guilt
that haunted him. She comforted him the only way she knew how, with love and
lust. Seven days later, the kingdom nearly in ruin and the people on their
knees, a young soldier thought he spotted something white and followed it into
the very depths of a mountain cave where he found a pool of water that was so
dazzling and clean that it could be none other than the magical healing pool.
As the kingdom was healed the King became troubled. He had done nothing in
those days between the dream and the finding of the pool, besides seek solace
in the arms of his Queen. Three weeks later, he had his answer. His Queen came
to him with news that she was with child, and both she and the court were
ecstatic. After a difficult birthing of her seventh son the healers said she
would never bear a child again, yet here she was, with child.
The King was still bothered, but decide to let it be. His Queen was happy and
his kingdom was happy, so why wasn’t he happy to have an eighth Prince too?
Seven months later the Queen had her baby prematurely. The child was so tiny,
the King could fit him in the palm of his hand. The child got a shaky start and
was not expected to live, but after having a healer on call every waking hour,
the child soon began to flourish and his eye’s opened. Bright blue, dazzling
eyes.
It was said then that the King sought people from the North to ask about the
White Bear in ernest after his eighth son was born. The child reminded him of
his guilt with every blue eyed stare, and he could barely look at him. Much to
the King’s displeasure, the Queen loved their youngest fiercely. She had always
been a timid girl, but now stood up to the King when he brushed off the blue
eyed child.
When the boy was ten, the silver fox traveler came back. Seeing the boy in
court, the traveler just stared and then dropped to his knees in front of the
boy, something that he hadn’t even done the first time he had met the King.
When the traveler looked back up, the youngest Prince just looked back at him
with a gentle gaze and blinked slowly. The boy’s behavior sent shivers down the
King’s spine. The traveler left then, without a word. On the Princes fourteenth
birthday, a strange battalion came from the mountains, with the bear carved
into their chests. They asked to take the boy and to teach him in the ways of
the bear, or else the kingdom would fall to ruin. The King agreed but the Queen
refused. She would only allow the Prince to go if she accompanied him. The King
was furious at his queen’s outspoken behavior and to satisfy his fury he
slaughtered all the men with the bear crest in front of his Queen and children.
Nobody knows what became of the young Prince or the King, and according to
legend the people with the bear crest were never seen again. The ruin’s of the
White Bear Slayer’s castle lay abandoned at the bottom of Wikent Mountain.
Wikent, meaning “pool” or “water”, in the ancient language. Strange enough, no
one has ever found a cave pool nor even a spring, on the mountain.
Rezule’s mother told him not to tell the other children this story in fear that
they would ridicule him for his “White Bear” eyes. Never the less, the whole
country new of the story and his village childhood was filled with taunts and
actions of violence against him. It was not until his father hauled him off to
the army base to be trained as a soldier that he heard many different accounts
of the story. Some said the boy with the blue eyes had turned into the bear and
had eaten everyone in the kingdom. Rezule felt that one was made of fiction to
be said in his presence for spite, but the legend and his eyes had always kept
him alone for his entire life.
Still staring at the armor that sat at the other end of the room, Rezule tried
to figure out who’s tent he was in. He remembered being whipped then, and felt
the sting of the scabs still there on his back, except with much less pain due
to what felt like padded bandages and his skin against soft fur. Then he
remembered Haudly’s hard cold hands and hot disgusting breath. Rezule began to
panic and he struggled against the blankets and firs that held him to the cot.
He gasped in pain as he moved his legs, the fire burning from inside of him,
from his lower back and up into his stomach. He felt like he had to puke, but
his breath came in such short gasps as he thrashed, he didn’t think he could.
Someone opened the flap of the tent then began shouting. There was a rush of
boots and the clink of a sword belt and Rezule saw green eyes. Those same green
eyes that had removed him from his prison and had brought him to this tent. He
remembered now.
The green eyed man wrapped his arms around Rezule and tried to pin him to the
cot to keep him from thrashing.
“Hush, you’re safe now. You’re safe.” He said, and as Rezule thrashed harder
against the man at his touch, the man hugged Rezule close to his chest and
lifted him slightly off the bed to rest in his arms. The green eyes looked down
at him in worry and Rezule stopped fighting. He was told he was safe, and the
man had saved him from his torture. With his next ragged breath Rezule burst
into tears and clawed at the green eyed man’s wool tunic, grabbing at the rough
red fabric. He needed something solid to hold onto, not just those vivid green
eyes.
***** Wonder *****
Sheera burst into the tent expecting to find the man dead or bleeding out.
Instead she found Shale holding the man in his arms as he sobbed into his
shoulder. Shale sat on the stool beside the bed he had occupied quite
frequently for the last three days and turned his head and looked in her
direction as she walked towards him.
“He’s awake now, I take it?” she said, only getting a nod in response from
Shale. “Well that’s a good sign, it must mean that his fever has broken.”
Sad green eyes looked up at her, “I think he is in a great deal of pain.” His
hands played through the man’s dark hair and held him closer.
Sheera closed her eyes for a moment them opened them. “His physical injuries
are extensive, Shale, and I can only do so much for those. I fear his wounds
run deepest in his mind.”
“I know Sheera, but do you have anything that might help him calm down and
possibly sleep? He was struggling before and he might have made himself bleed.”
Sheera took a couple steps to the end of the cot and lifted up the blankets to
look at her patients bandages. The ones she had placed around his pelvis were
more for cleanliness than necessity, for this type of situation. “He has a
small bleed that I will need to see too, nothing too serious. See if you can
get him to drink this,” She fetched the hot water that was placed above the
fire in a tin kettle and poured it into a cup that was on Shales desk. Adding a
pre-mixed package of herbs to the water and stirring it, Sheera handed it to
Shale. The captain gently lifted the man’s head away from his shoulder, the
sobbing was down to sniffles by now. He held the cup in front of the blazing
blue, red rimmed eyes.
“Drink this, it will ease the pain.” He made his voice very gentle, almost a
whisper. The blue eyes, lined by red lids, looked up at his then back to the
cup and sniffed, hands still clenched in Shale’s tunic. He tipped his head so
the rim of the cup touched his lips and sipped. Rezule feared the steaming
liquid would burn his mouth, but he was glad when it was just a warm, bitter
liquid. He let Shale tip the cup for him as he finished it, then settled his
cheek against the damp patch on Shale’s shoulder, resting his head as he felt
his eyes begin to droop. Sheera had left swiftly, but quietly, once he had
finished the drink, waiting for him to fall asleep he supposed. Shale set the
empty cup down on the floor then readjusted his hold on the blue eyed man.
Curiosity set out on a war against patience and won.
“Can you tell me your name?” Shale asked, his hand running through the dark
hair.
Blue eyes stared up at him half lidded, “Rezule.” The voice was deep for such a
young face and the Cayphaellian accent made the “L” at the end of his name
sound like he rolled his tongue against the roof of his mouth. The first sound
of his voice, such a contrast to his screams and sobs it sent shivers up
Shale’s back, and a heat growing in his groin. No other man had made him feel
like this, like he had to protect him, like he lusted after him, all at the
same time. Shale couldn’t explain it. He had been with men and women alike and
none had made him feel the way that Rezule did, with his dark hair and bright,
bright blue eyes. Shale looked down at the man to see if he noticed his
reaction to his voice, but the blue eyes were closed and the young face was
peaceful. Gently, Shale placed him back onto the cot as Sheera entered the
tent.
“Can you place him on his stomach and remove the blankets while I finish the
poultice?”
“Yes, ma’m,” replied Shale softly as he gently rearranged Rezule. Thinking his
name in his head brought a smile to his lips. A smile during war was a rare
thing.
Sheera caught it quickly, “What’s with the grin?”
“He told me his name.”
“Is that so,” she waited while she continued to stir and mix herbs into the
poultice.
“It’s Rezule.”
Sheera paused in her stirring for a moment and her eyes darkened, “I know that
name from somewhere, but I cannot place it.”
“It is quite a heavy name, maybe it’s a common Cayphaellian one and one of the
commander’s shared it and you heard Lark say it when he read the Cayphaellian
roster.”
“I don’t think that’s it, but I’m sure it’s just coincidence,” she said as the
darkness lifted from her eyes. “The poultice is done, lets get those bandages
changed.”
***
When Rezule next awoke, the sky was dark and the fire burned low. He had fallen
asleep on his stomach, giving him a good view of the rest of the room that was
behind the head of the cot. There was another, bigger chest, open and revealing
a sword hanging on it’s door by a belt and many scrolls that were kept inside.
This must be a captain's tent, thought Rezule, knowing that all written or
spoke commands from a commander had to be recorded and saved by the captains
until they could be written down in the commander’s ledger or were put into
permanent records.
Rezule’s snooping also revealed a bundle of furs and blankets on the floor,
close to the fire, that seemed to be breathing. A soft breeze blew in from the
hole at the top of the tent and the flames from the small fire increased,
shining more light onto the strange bundle of blankets. Sandy hair could be
seen coming from within the breathing pile. The same sandy, gold hair that
matched those green eyes.
Rezule watched and wondered. The man had given him his cot, held him while he
cried and called for a healer or him. His ordeal had been rough and his life
hadn’t been the easiest. He had been unwanted by his family for so long after
his mother’s death that being held like that again left him a little
breathless. The breastplate hanging across the room, did nothing to help Rezule
with his infatuation of this foreign stranger. Like something truly out of
legend and myth this man had pulled him out of a fiery pit and placed him back
on the ground.
The sun had just started to touch the horizon and the sky became a deep, dark
blue, instead of the perpetual black, when the sound of a horn being blasted
through the camp made the sleepy pile by the fire squirm and then pop out his
head.
Lying on his stomach, Rezule was able to watch easily without the fear of being
discovered awake. He watched the sandy mop of hair, plastered in every
direction as if a motherly horse had licked it clean, rise from the blankets,
followed by a fluid body. Shale looked like a cat shedding his pelt as he stood
and stretched from his slumber, completely naked in the pale early morning
light. Rezule watched with awe, as Shale raised his hands over his head and
took deep, loud breaths. It almost looked like some sort of meditation to
Rezule until the man began to move. He was more broad than Rezule and about a
couple inches taller, but as he moved he looked like the most lithe sword
master Rezule had ever seen. The man went through the movements, some of them
balancing on both legs, some on one and even some on his hands and head. He
went through the movements fluidly, holding them as if time had frozen him
there, like he had practiced the same poses to their exact form every day of
his life. He stayed on top of the pile of furs through the whole thing, not
once did he have a limb catch on a fold and stumble. Rezule studied his body,
every contour and what looked like smudge-less black ink painted on his skin.
He had what looked like a pillar starting on back of his left shoulder blade
and down to the curve of his lower back. It was filled with strange symbols and
alien scripture. A single bear track was also settled on his left pectoral
muscle, right over his heart, its design looking wild and very natural, as if a
bear had put it there itself.
Shale’s routine slowed and he finally stopped, settling into a normal standing
stance and made his way to the chest at the base of the cot, running his hands
through his hair to smooth it. He disappeared behind the mountain of blankets
on top of Rezule, where he could not see him.
“It got a little cold in here since the fire got low, want be to put more wood
on?” Shale’s voice hung awkwardly in the air. Was he talking to Rezule? Rezule
didn’t answer, confused.
“Rezule, I know you’ve been awake. I can’t miss those blue eyes of yours.”
Rezule lifted himself up onto his elbows then twisted around and looked at
Shale. The blonde man was only wearing doeskin breeches and boots and as we
walked across the room to where his belt and sword hung. Rezule’s eyes followed
him. A wicked, crooked grin spread across Shale’s face as he grabbed and then
cinched his belt to his waist and adjusted his sword and sheath at his left
hip.
“Like what you see?”
Rezule’s face heated and he lowered himself into the blankets to hide his
embarrassment. He knew he had been blatantly staring but he still felt like he
couldn’t hide anything from this man. It was as if those green eyes held their
sight on him without directly looking his way, as Shale moved about the tent
laughing softly, gathering more layers of clothing and putting them on.
“I will send Sheera to come check on you and make sure you will be fit for
travel in a few days,” He told Rezule, while putting on a military cut jacket
over his wool tunic. A red and white cloak hung at the back of the hook that
held the armor and Shale gabbed it and swung it over his shoulders and clipped
it on with an intricate brooch. Rezule had to admit, Shale looked just as good
clothed as he did naked, but with his jacket and cloak on he stood taller,
sterner and seemed to hold more of an air of authority with less of the playful
man he had been minutes before.
Shale exited the tent quickly, careful not to open the tent flap too far, lest
the early morning air rush in and chill the man in his cot. He took a sharp
left and grabbed several chopped logs, that had been set in a neat pile beside
the entrance, enough to bring a good blaze back to the fire and a couple more
for extra. He could see his breath as he organized the sticks in his arm. It
had begun to get colder as the days grew shorter. The depth of winter was on
its way from the North over the mountains.
As Shale slipped back into the tent he was met with startled blue eyes. Rezule
had sat up in the bed and seemed to have been inspecting his bandages. He had
froze when Shale entered.
“Didn’t mean to scare you,” Shale said gently, dropping his load near the fire
and began to lay more logs in it. When he was done he looked back up. Rezule
hadn’t moved a muscle, but Shale saw the tightness in his shoulders and the
defensive posture he had taken. Shale took a step toward him and the cot,
immediately regretting it. Rezule’s eyes narrowed and his mouth was quickly
made into a snarl, opening slightly as if... Was he bearing his teeth? Shale
stared dumfounded at the man. What had been big, almost doe-like blue eyes
before were now narrowed and wolfish. The showing of the teeth gave his young
face a very hostile look, as if he had grown up wild and new how to make
himself look threatening.
Backing away carefully towards the tent door Shale said softly, “I must go now,
but I will retrieve Sheera and she will fetch you some breakfast.”
Rezule’s mouth closed but his eyes remained narrowed. Shale let out a breath
and turned to lift the flap and exited the tent quickly.
He found Sheera in the hospital tent. It was empty of patients, the one’s who
had suffered from the battle with the army base had only minor injuries and had
been healed quickly. She was folding clean sheets and organizing the herbs she
had hung to dry, her long, almost white, blonde hair loose against her
shoulders, catching on the simple silver brooch and all white cloak that marked
her as a recognized healer.
“Rezule is awake, although I would be careful when you approach him. He did not
say a word to me, but he seemed quite hostile when I left.”
“Perhaps he has had enough of your coddling.” Her amber eye’s glittered as she
saw the reaction her comment drew from Shale.
“I have not been coddling him!” His face had gone a shade brighter and he
lifted his chest and huffed.
“The man has spoken only one word to you, you let him sleep in your cot under a
ridiculous heap of blankets, you have kept a fire brightly lit in your tent for
five days and now you are visiting me and asking me to go check on him before
the sun is even completely above the horizon. Those are examples of coddling,
captain.”
Shale lowered his eyes and rubbed at the back of his neck. There was no arguing
with this women. “ I have a meeting with Commander Lark that I must attend to.
Will you please bring him something to eat at least? And checking to see when
he can travel is Lark’s order, not mine.”
“Yes, sir,” She said with a little mirth as her attention continued with her
drying herbs. When Shale just stood there she stopped and turned to face him, “
I will check him, now go to your meeting,” her voice calm and assuring.
Shale dipped his head, “Thank you,” then he left the hospital tent.
***** Tooth and Nail *****
Rezule did not know what made him respond so aggressively to Shale’s approach,
but the man’s exit from the tent had broken the spell that had been set on
Rezule since he had first seen the blonde man wake up. He had been entranced by
those green eyes and golden hair and had not questioned motive, nor had he gone
through what his training and life as a soldier, and Cayphaellian, had taught
him. Kindness was not found without reciprocation or payment and beauty was to
be treated with caution. The principles had snapped back to him and he sat up
slowly in the cot, testing his condition. His back was still tender, but was no
longer bandaged. He felt it and pulled his hand back. His fingers were covered
in oil. It smelt strangely like a nut based dish his mother used to make on
special occasions. That explained why the skin on his back hadn’t felt so tight
when he had twisted himself around to a sitting position. He went to inspect
the thin bandage that was around his abdomen when Shale came back carrying a
bundle of logs in his arm.
Rezule stilled, like a deer caught in the forest, all senses alert. He would
not be lulled in by this man’s beauty nor the mythical mystery that surrounded
him.
Shale apologized, then began to tend the fire. Rezule was not cold, used to
having to sleep on the frozen ground during expeditions, always the farthest
away from the fire. Did Shale think he was cold? Did he think him weak?
When Shale was done with the fire, he stepped towards Rezule, and the blue eyed
man almost leapt out of the cot. Rezule thought the comfort of the blonde man’s
touch a vile trick that sent things stirring within him that he had not felt
since early childhood and some never before. The warmth of everything, the
furs, the fire, the tent, his arms, all an annoyance and was shoved away by his
anger. Rezule made himself look threatening, using the same look that had sent
his fellow soldiers scurrying out of his way, even before he had killed. He
watched with satisfaction as Shale cautiously removed himself from the tent
mumbling something about the healer and food.
The moment over, all of the energy left Rezule. He was alone. Just him, and the
voiceless, crackling fire.
***
“He will not leave my sight!” Boomed Shale’s loud, authoritative voice from
Commander Lark’s tent.
“Listen, Captain Shale, I will only repeat myself once and this is an order.
When he is ready to travel, we will move more easterly and make our way to take
the capital city of this sick country, and he will be escorted to Sharoake’s
Ridge. Hopefully, they will be able to get something more out of him than a
simple name.” Lark held his hand up to stop Shale’s protest. “If they get
anything out of him, it will be sent immediately to me by eagle.”
Their meeting had been smooth thus far, but the mention of their “prisoner of
war” being shipped through the mountain’s to their home country’s border city
where he would be most likely interrogated and his healing injuries not looked
after properly had brought Shale’s blood to a boil.
“ Commander, I request permission to escort him and Sheera to the ridge if he
must go.”
“No, I cannot allow our most talented and skilled healer to leave us, nor will
I allow one of our lead captains to abandon his men.”
“It wouldn’t be aband-”
“It would and you know it.”
As the argument continued, the other captains removed themselves from the tent,
save Rill. Lark, Rill and Shale all met when they had been in their first few
years serving under the Spirit Bear’s banner and considered themselves
brothers, though their training had taught them that all of the great bear’s
children that served under the banner were their brothers and sisters. It was
only with confidence that he knew Lark would at least try to understand the
situation, that had Shale defying his superior so openly. Rill stayed, probably
to prevent a childish fist fight that Lark and Shale seemed to get themselves
into on occasion.
“What if he knows about the capital and where the holy relic we are searching
for is kept? What if he is not from another land but is simply a uniquely
coloured person?”
“Have you managed to ask him such?”
“No of course not, I was summoned here early by your orders and have barely
talked with him!”
Commander Lark gave a tired sigh, “Commander Nass will be here with his units
of heavy artillery in a few days, if you have not confirmed whether he has
useful information or not by then, he will be sent to the ridge. For his sake I
hope you do. The High Healers have sent an eagle stating that we only have
until the end of winter for it to be found and the magic they will push on him
to get answers fast, will not be pleasant or lenient. They will get what they
want from him whether he knows anything or not.”
“ I understand,” said Shale, his temper subdued. If Rezule was not an outsider,
then he would be able to stay with them. His blue eyes disproved this, but
maybe he would still know something about what they were looking for.
Shale lowered himself to one knee in front of Lark , the traditional way of
accepting an order, and just opening his mouth to speak when a women’s scream
rang through the camp and soldiers began running past the commander’s tent. It
was Sheera’s scream.
***
Rezule glared quizzically at the women as she began mixing powders and what
looked like crushed leaves, from different small pouches, and stirred them into
a steaming bowl of porridge. She had stepped in the tent not long after Shale
had left, but long enough for Rezule to feel terrible about his behavior. These
people just confused him so much, he really did not know how to react. They
provided him with medical care, and his needs were taken care of to the point
where he was the most comfortable he had ever been in his life. He wondered
what had become of the soldier base that had been his home for the last seven
years, but there was nothing there for him besides his mare, whom had been
slaughtered in the fight or ended up being incorporated into the supplies that
this Spirit Bear army had raided from the base. He had had no friends to speak
of, so ostracized because of his eyes, and he had never mingled with the
townsfolk, except for the occasional trip to the overused brothel.
The bowl of porridge shoved under his nose snapped him out of his thoughts.
“Eat, it might put you in a better mood,” Sheera’s voice was strong and clear,
one that was not used to being disobeyed.
Rezule took the bowl and wooden spoon and cautiously ate without a word. The
mash was strange type of grain that he was unfamiliar with and had a creamier
texture than the gruel he was fed twice a day at the base. It also tasted
strangely spicy, but he wondered if that wasn’t from the herbs he had watched
her add to it. She watched him with a steady gaze of her gentle hazel eyes as
he ate all of the porridge. He hadn’t realized he was this hungry but it did
occur to him that this was his first solid meal since he had been whipped. When
he was done, Sheera took the bowl from him and set it aside to be washed. Then
she returned to the desk and to the bags of herbs she had been making.
“Is he angry with me?” His voice was a whisper and even he barely heard it.
Sheera went very still at it’s sound and slowly turned around to look at him.
“He wasn’t angry, more like frustrated. He just doesn’t understand yet that our
ways of doing things are so very different from your own. If I was to express
my opinion I would say you’ve done very well, considering Shale can be quite
the egotistical fool.”
Rezule liked the way she described Shale and looked at her with a little bit of
a smile knowing she had depicted, nearly perfectly, his time with the man that
morning.
“He didn’t ask you if you ‘Like what you see’?” did he?” Sheera said, the
question in her best Shale impression, tipping her head up and mocking him with
a pompous voice.
Rezule smiled, then began to chuckle, until his expression of amusement was a
deep, throaty laugh. When he sobered up, Sheera had the biggest grin on her
face, as if she had made the impossible happen. She just about had, Rezule
hadn’t laughed like that in a very long time.
Sheera was amazed at the transformation that over took his face as he laughed.
His eyes brightened and the smile that spread across his face revealed an
attractive wide mouth and dimples on each of his cheeks.
“He did ask me that,” Rezule said in a more stronger tone than before. Sheera’s
presence made him relaxed and he liked her antics for engaging him in
conversation.
“I knew he would. It’s what he asks everyone if they stare at him for too long.
He’s good looking and he knows it.” Her last words were said in annoyance and
made Rezule keep the amused curl to his lips. “Now then,” she said while she
turned and retrieved several items out of her bag. She had a pair of doeskin
breeches that she draped over her arm as well as a clean cloth. She also
retrieved a small jar from her bag, and walked back to the side of the cot with
them.
“Your wounds are nearly healed, but not quite as much as I would like. However,
the commander would like to see you fit for travel as soon as possible.” She
held up the jar in her hands and placed it on the stool with the cloth next to
it, then set the breeches folded at the end of the bed.
“You can removed your bandages and clean your self with the cloth, but I want
you to put the cream I have in the jar on them. It will help soften the scabs
and speed the healing process. You should be okay now without bandages and can
put those breeches on, but if you start to bleed anywhere,” Her gentle brown
gaze became stern, “you must let me know, understand?”
Rezule nodded.
Sheera turned and removed the pot of water from on top of the fire and poured
it into a wooden basin by the stool.
“You can use this to wet the cloth. I will be right out side if you need
anything.”
“ Thank you.”
She smiled at him before she exited the tent.
Rezule lifted the blankets off of himself to reveal his body beneath. He was
completely wrapped in bandages from his abdomen wound down to mid thigh. He
wiggled his toes. He seemed to be okay to stand. Moving his legs so they rested
at the edge of the bed, Rezule touched his feet to the floor. The cot wasn’t
very high, but he still hissed as the movement smarted his wounds. He stood up
tentatively. He expected to have to sit back down, but he felt okay, just very
weak and stiff in his legs. His fingers found the beginning of the bandage
wrapped around his abdomen and he pulled it off discarding it at the bottom of
the stool. His knife wound had been cauterized and scab that covered it was
black, but to Rezule’s surprise the healthy tissue around it was only a little
swollen and was barely pink. Sheera must be a very skilled healer, he thought
to himself.
Removing the rest of his bandages was more of a challenge than the first one.
He first had to unwrap his cock, and the bruising on it made him gasp with pain
every time he hand to move it. After finally finishing that, he managed to
unwrap the wrest of himself without any more difficulties. Grabbing the cloth
and dipping it into the warm water, Rezule washed his uninjured parts of his
body before he ventured to his wounds. He dabbed the cloth gently against his
cock, hissing and clenching his jaw in pain as he removed a small amount of
dried blood from the tip. He continued with the very tender spots between his
legs, removing dried blood and trying not to remove any scabs. He didn’t
realize how swollen his rim was, until he went to put the cream on his hole and
touched it with his fingers. He shuddered, half in pain and half in pleasure as
his body reflexively clenched at the contact with his hole.
Finishing with the cream, Rezule reached for the doeskin breeches and held them
up. They looked like they would be a little big for him, but he was sure that
the draw string around the waist would keep them on his hips and the bruised
parts of his body would be most grateful for the extra room. The leather they
were made out of was also very soft and Rezule relished in its feeling against
his skin as he pulled them on.
The uniform for Cayphaellian soldiers he was used to wearing, was made of rough
cotton and hemp, and if they were lucky a wool cloak, but it was all made even
rougher by the black dye that they added to everything.
As Rezule struggled to figure out how to properly tie the draw string, Sheera
returned to the tent with a jug of water. She gave a small laugh as she watched
him struggle, but it wasn’t in cruelty.
“Let me help you,” she said, setting the jug down on the ground and reaching
slowly for Rezule’s hands that held the strings.
Rezule stilled and stared at her cautiously, but handed her the strings when
she approached, without touching her hands to his. She tied the draw string
quickly and place the remaining rope through one belt loop.
As she pulled away to admire her handy work, she caught herself studying the
strange man’s torso. His skin was littered with pale scars, some ranging from
thin lines that looked like they were from the fresh welts of the whip and some
that were dark and ragged, only slightly faded by age.
“How old are you, Rezule?”
He hesitated, but decided that lying about his age would do nothing to improve
his situation. “Almost nineteen winters. My moon of birth is near the end of
winter.”
Sheera nodded sadly, but her curiosity got the best of her. “Will you allow me
to touch you?” She motioned to quite a large scar that looked like it had torn
from his left pectoral muscle to his sternum.
Rezule cocked his head to the side quizzically, but gave a nod for her to
continue. From the moment she had entered the tent she had been nothing but
motherly to him and he felt that he quite liked her stern, but gentle way that
he talked to him.
Sheera’s right hand reached forward slowly and touched the scar with just her
finger tips. At the moment of contact, Rezule heard Sheera scream, but he
didn’t have much time to dwell on it as he was flooded with a memory that he
would rather keep long forgotten.
The hard dirt floor of the small hut was difficult to forget as it dug into his
back. His shirt had been torn off by his father in a drunken fit of rage and
the man had Rezule pinned to the floor easily. One of his knees was against his
neck, nearly cutting off his air, and the other was against his hips,
preventing him from moving.
He could smell the sickening tang of heated metal before he saw his father lift
his old sword from the fire, it’s blade glowing red. Rezule sobbed and
struggled, but he was no more than seven years old, and his father far
outweighed him.
“Your mother can’t come to your aid, you bastard. She’s dead,” He slurred. “You
probably did something to her. I’ll make you pay, teach you who your messing
with.”
Rezule squeezed his eyes shut when he saw the glowing sword move, but it didn’t
help the pain. The sword was dull and his father sawed it into his chest. He
screamed the loudest he could, but nobody came to save him.
***** Healer *****
Sheera hadn’t expected that to happen. For Rezule’s magic to come rushing into
her and for her to be slammed into the memory with him. He wasn’t supposed to
have magic, so she hadn’t set up any walls before she touched him. Their magic
mixed together violently, and she felt everything inside of him. The physical
pain, and the feeling that no one would ever love him besides the ghost of his
mother. She felt his fear the strongest. The fear of dying, the fear of being
hurt, and the fear of hurting others. She marveled in his complexity of
emotions and thoughts, fascinated by how such an abused boy turned into such a
gentle man. He harbored no anger, just solid masses of guilt.
The screams that were in the background of her thoughts broke through and she
realized that it was her body screaming; reacting to the physical pain of
Rezule’s magic. She withdrew her’s from Rezule, and came back to her body
quickly, before the soldiers that rushed into the tent broke the contact she
had with his chest.
She was caught when she collapsed, but managed to steady herself against the
soldier’s support and remain on her feet. Her gaze cleared at the same moment
and she watched with horror as Rezule’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and
he crumpled to the ground.
“No!,” Sheera shrieked, struggling out of the soldier's grasp and rushing to
Rezule.
He lay on his back, his spine arched with such pain that his shoulders barely
touched the ground. She sat by his head and put a hand on each side of his
face. He struggled, digging his heels into the ground and whipping his head
back and forth. Only the whites of his eyes showed and foam spurted from his
mouth with every choking breath he took.
Sheera felt the hot sting of tears threaten her eyes. She had only read about
this in a book in the great library. Rezule must have not known he had magic,
and had never used it for anything. Connecting to the physical body was an
elementary thing for most magic users, however healers in training were not
taught this simple exercise until the fourth year of study. What Rezule was
going through was a loss of control of the separation between his spirit body
and his physical body. In other words, his body was going into a type of shock
in response to the sudden burst of magic that responded to Sheera’s curiosity.
In the book where she had read about this kind of situation, there had only
been one case of it actually happening. The healers had decided to leave the
patient alone, to allow for the body and spirit to recognize each other and
come into balance naturally. The patient had gotten immediately worse and had
died a few minutes later.
Sheera would not let that happen to Rezule, could not let that happen. The man
she had glimpsed beneath his hostile exterior did not deserve to be ripped out
of the world by her mistake, a healer’s mistake. Healers did not make mistakes.
Putting herself together and inhaling a shuddering breath, Sheera prepared
herself to delve into Rezule’s magic once more. She needed to subdue his magic
and make it retreat back into his spirit so that his body could process what
had happened to it.
Using her hands on each side of his head as anchor points she closed her eyes
and connected their magic.
The violence and shouts of soldiers and running feet were gone and Sheera found
herself standing in a quiet winter forest. The snow was up to her knees and
hoarfrost covered every available surface on the needles of the pine trees and
branches of taller bushes that surrounded her making the very air seem frozen.
Was this one of Rezule’s memories? Sheera thought to herself, when she heard
voices coming from what looked like a small clearing ahead of her. Two dark
cloaked figures walked out of the trees, one no more than a few feet tall, a
child. His dark hair stuck out every which way and his eyes were recognizable
even from where Sheera stood. Blazing blue against the almost grey backdrop of
the dark forest and clouded sky.
His little voice rang out through the air, “Father says I am not good enough to
get a pony, but Shevak gets into fights with other kids all of the time and I
don’t, so why won’t he get me one, Mama?”
The other cloaked figure removed her dark hood to glance sideways at her boy,
“You are a good boy, Rezzi, don’t let your father tell you that you are not,
but he is going through a storm in his mind right now, and he does not think to
train you a pony. He has other, important things that he must take care of.”
Her eyes were soft and her voice sweet.
“I know,” he sounded subdued and disappointed but then Sheera saw a
transformation in the boy. His shoulders squared and he stretched up to his
tallest, as tall as what looked like a six year old could stand. His voice came
out stronger and defiant, “But father says that I am not his son, and so he
shouldn’t have to worry about things like me learning to ride.”
Rezule’s mother immediately crouched down to her son’s eye level and turned him
to face her. “Rezule, look at me,” the anger in the young boy’s eyes was
extinguished as he gazed at his mother’s worried face. “That man is your
father, and I will take that as the truth to my very grave. And remember in our
family, how we do not lie to each other?”
Rezule nodded.
“I am not lying to you and it is your father’s own problem if he doesn’t
believe me. It is not your worry to care about what he believes is truth,
okay?”
Sheera didn’t get to hear Rezule’s response.
A great white bear lumbered into her peripheral vision and she whipped around
to face it. Blue, glacier eyes stared back at her.
“Spirit bear,” she whispered breathlessly.
The bear gave a huff in response, then lowered his head and approached her.
Sheera’s mind told her to back up, but her magic wanted her to walk forward and
meet the bear. She ended up taking a step forward then another, before her
knees buckled and she knelt at the enormous white paws. The bear lowered it’s
head to her and touched its pink nose to her forehead.
A strong wind swirled around them and the surrounding forest was gone, replaced
by the whirling wind. Sheera did not understand what was going on but the
contact with the bear sent her into an instant calm and she felt her magic act
out of its own accord. She felt it resist against the direction that the bear
wanted it to go and she helped the bear push her magic, closing her eyes and
concentrating. The wind around them picked up, whipping Sheera’s loose blonde
hair all around her and the bear. She pushed harder with her magic and she felt
the strange barrier give, slowly retreating.
The bear removed it’s nose from her forehead and rested its brow against her
chest. She felt her hands lift to hug its neck, and let her fingers grasp its
thick, white fur. She kept pushing with her magic and eventually the barrier
gave. The bear dissipated to a whirl of snow in her arms at the same time and
she felt a rushing in her ears as she was returned gently to her body.
Her hazel eyes met blue ones and she almost sobbed in relief. Her head snapped
up at the sound of Shale, shouting and struggling against Rill and Lark, before
she could let the emotions of relief get the better of her.
Rezule sat up, his arms shaking underneath as he leaned against them to support
his upper body weight. Sheera didn’t dare touch him, and so she stood, a little
unstable on her own to legs, and backed away from him.
Lark and Rill let go of Shale, who rushed to Rezule’s side and grabbed the man
in his arms. Lark made his way to Sheera. He reached for her elbow to support
her but she ripped her arm from his gentle grasp and made her way towards the
door of the tent.
Before she excited the tent, she turned to face Commander Lark, who was close
behind her. He opened his mouth as if to say something but closed it once he
saw her expression.
“He’s been touched by the Spirit Bear and has magic within him. He’s a healer.”
Her words were soft but both Lark and Rill heard her. Their eyes widened and
both remained speechless.
Sheera took a last glance at Rezule and Shale, the blue eyed man’s arms wrapped
around the warrior’s neck. Their lips were locked together in a desperate kiss
and Sheera winced, then stormed out of the tent. It was she who almost snuffed
that light from those blue eyes, and she knew that if she had, there would be
no light left in Shale’s eyes either. She made her way toward her tent, tears
streaming down her cheeks. She would now have to think about her position as a
healer.
***** Kiss *****
Rezule opened his eyes in confusion. His vision was blurry and he could barely
see anything. When he managed to push himself up, he could hear someone
yelling. The sound made his head pound. The rest of his body felt absolutely
spent, as if he had been training for several hours straight and his muscles
were done.
He recognized the shouting as Shale’s voice at the same time his vision
cleared. The man rushed quickly to his side and wrapped him up in his arms.
Rezule didn’t protest. Something inside his chest swelled at being held and he
found himself wrapping his arms around the man’s neck and pulling himself
closer, onto Shale’s lap.
Shale removed one arm from around Rezule and cupped his cheek with his hand,
the tips of his fingers in Rezule’s dark hair.
Blue eyes looked into Shale’s.
 “What happened?”Rezule sounded exhausted, and his lids were almost half
drooped.
“I,” Shale began hesitantly, his face drawing closer to those blue eyes. “I
thought I lost you.”
Confusion made Rezule’s dark eye brows draw together and create a line on his
forehead.
“Lose me?”
Shale wasn’t paying attention to Rezule’s words, all he wanted to press his
lips to the brow and make that line disappear.
“Shale?”
The blonde man lowered his head and pressed his mouth to Rezule’s. Too startled
and groggy to do anything about it, Rezule felt his lips respond to the warm
pressure, and kiss back.
The contact was electrifying, and Shale felt his body shudder with pleasure at
Rezule’s eager response. He teased his tongue along the crease of Rezule’s
lips, and they opened, accepting the languid movement of Shale’s tongue into
his mouth.
Rezule groaned as their tongues touched, and it turned into a small growl as he
moved his own tongue into Shale’s mouth aggressively. His teeth snapped gently
at Shale’s lips, making the blonde gasp and pull the smaller man tighter to his
chest, his hand rubbing the bare skin of his waist.
The fervor from Rezule was unexpected, but Shale relished in it, loving the hot
mouth on his and the feel of bare skin beneath his hands, but it didn’t last.
Rezule gasped, not in passion, but in pain, and put his hands on Shale’s chest,
pushing himself off of his lap and breaking the kiss.
Shale looked at him with concern. “Are you alright?”
“Yah, it just... hurts.” Rezule said, his voice a little tight from the pain he
was in. He reached down between his legs to try to adjust the bulge in his
breeches, but immediately stopped as the bruises on his cock sent a sharp pain
through his entire body. The pain made him yelp and Shale was up and almost
half way to the door by the time Rezule decided that if he could just get the
blasted breeches undone and off then maybe he’d be more comfortable.
 
“I will fetch Sheer-”
“No,” said Rezule loudly, stopping Shale in his tracks. “Blasted foreign knots,
help me get these damn things off!” He practically shouted while pulling at the
tie that did up the breeches.
Shale obeyed Rezule’s command without a second thought. Those blue eyes had
pierced him and he was instantly beside him. A wry grin spread across his face
as he thought of a witty comeback to the topic of removing breeches, but he
thought best to keep his mouth shut. Rezule was like an animal caught in a
snare, in pain and angry as all hell. With quick fingers, Shale had the knot
released and Rezule moved quickly to pulled the breeches off of his hips to
release his cock.
Shale couldn’t help but stare, even though he had seen it while Sheera had
healed him. It was massive, for one. It wasn’t that much bigger then Shale’s
own but it was on a smaller body and was both thicker in girth and a little
longer. And it was only half erect. The other thing that made his eyes unable
to move away was the bruising. Molted blue with yellowish hues of the healing
internal bleeding, was all over his shaft but was especially dark at the base.
“What, never seen a cock before?”
Shale’s eyes were ripped embarrassingly away from Rezule’s penis and were faced
with amused blue eyes. The blonde man’s face felt hot; he was blushing like a
ripe tomato.
“Of course I have.”
“Didn’t look like it, the way you were fancying mine.” Rezule’s young face
radiated amusement, but then it cracked and he gave a small hiss of pain.
“It still hurts?” Shale asked, his face worried.
Rezule nodded and shifted uncomfortably. “You should leave.”
“I should wha-”
“Yes, leave. You being here is not helping my dick get any softer!,” Rezule
growled the last words as Shale watched another wave of pain narrow his eyes.
“I-I could help you with it,” said Shale.
Rezule looked at him for a moment, then looked at his cock, and then looked
back at him, staring thoughtfully. Shale saw that he made his decision when his
eyes brightened. “Alright, but take your shirt off.”
Shale chuckled, “Such a bossy thing aren’t you.”
“Just hurry up.”
Shale unclipped his cloak and then worked at the buttons on his coat quickly.
Ripping his underlay of a wool tunic off over his head, he approached Rezule,
who had managed to shift himself onto the pile of furs and sat down beside him.
Rezule wrapped his arms around Shale’s neck, feeling the broad shoulders
beneath his hands. Their lips touched, more hesitant then they had been with
each other earlier. Shale’s hands began grazing Rezule’s bare skin on his rib
cage.
Their hands explored each other. Shale’s hesitant and gentle, while Rezule was
little more thorough, brave enough to move his hands down Shale’s washboard abs
and rub along his hips, even venturing to graze the bulge that was growing
between Shale’s legs. Shale let his moans drown in Rezule’s mouth and rubbed
his thumbs on Rezule’s nipples. Rezule gasped, breaking the kiss and tilted his
head back. Shale grazed his lips along Rezule’s jaw, then lightly nipped at the
tender skin on his throat, as he lowered him into the furs. His mouth traveled
from his throat down to his well defined chest, and took a nipple into his
mouth. Rezule arched against him and he felt his slender fingers kneed at his
blonde hair. He bit down a little on the nipple and he got a gasp and a gentle
hair tug from Rezule. Moving lower, he was kissing and nibbling the tender
skin, when a hand grabbed his and guided it to the fully swollen member.
Shale’s breath hitched as his fingers came into contact with the hot flesh. He
wrapped his fingers gently around the shaft, remembering the bruises, as he
continued his menstruations with his mouth on Rezule’s stomach. His hand move
up and down along Rezule’s cock and he grazed his thumb along it’s head. A yelp
escaped from Rezule, and his body jerked in pain. Shale immediately took his
hand away.
“Why are you stopping?” Rezule’s breathless, but pain tight, voice demanded.
Shale lifted his head from Rezule’s skin. “I thought I hurt you,”
“I just need to push through it. It hurts enough just being hard, keep going.”
His voice was a rumble.
Shale obeyed without a word, but his time he let his lips land on the hair at
the base of Rezule’s cock, breathing in his musky smell. He smelt like a
strange spice that Shale couldn’t place. His tongue came out and he brushed it
along Rezule’s shaft while he gently held it with his hand. Rezule bucked a
little, and Shale let go of his cock to put both hands on his hips, holding him
down. Slowly, he placed the head of his cock into his mouth and closed his
lips. He didn’t suck, fearing that would hurt Rezule, just bobbed his head up
and down a little bit, letting the tip touch the back of his throat. His dick
was fully erect and felt like a hot rod of metal covered by a layer of velvet
against Shale’s lips.
Rezule struggled against Shale’s hands, which tightened their hold. Shale
didn’t want Rezule hurting himself by pounding away at his throat.
“I-I need just a bit more,” gasped Rezule as Shale removed his hands from the
young man’s hips, placing one on his lower belly to keep him from thrusting,
although the movements of muscle were so arousing to Shale he thought he might
have to start rutting at the ground, and the other hand cupped Rezule’s balls.
They were one of the only sensitive parts of him that were not damaged when he
was tortured, and Shale fondled them freely, careful not to pull, lest he
stretched the bruised skin on the base of Rezule’s shaft.
Shale increased the speed of his head bobbing and was met with a growl from
Rezule who continued to give frustrated thrusts with his hips.
“Will you just suck already?” Rezule slurred out, his voice rough, as Shale
squeezed his balls. Worried about how much pain it would cause him, but
determined to bring him to completion, Shale gave a good suck on Rezule’s cock
and rubbed his tongue along its head.
He felt Rezule’s balls tighten, and a cry of release as hot cum shot to the
back of Shale’s throat. He swallowed and stroked Rezule with his tongue as he
rode out his orgasm.
Shale finally let the cock drop from his mouth, when all erstwhile twitches and
hip jerks were gone, and sauntered up onto the pile of furs to lay down with
Rezule.
Blue eyes watched him thinking that they both looked like cats. Shale a golden
lion, muscles rippling underneath his skin with every languid, four legged,
step he took as he moved on his hands and knees, and Rezule, a black jaguar,
laying spread out and sleepy in a soft comfy pile of pelts taking a well
deserved cat nap.
Shale settled himself down beside Rezule, close enough that the length of their
bodies touched all the way to their toes. Shale leaned over Rezule and kissed
him on the lips, pushing his tongue into his mouth slowly so he could taste
himself, salty and a little bitter. To Shale, he found that it also held the
taste of that spice that seemed to be uniquely Rezule’s own.
Shale broke the kiss and looked down into very tired blue eyes.“Does it hurt
anymore?”
Rezule shook his head, then a wry grin spread across his face. “But if I say
yes, will you do it again?”
Shale laughed and Rezule liked the feeling of the rumbling chest beside him. “
Only if you begged, but I think you’re much to tired for that right now. Why
don’t you try to get some sleep and I will put some more wood on the fire.”
Rezule’s eyes fell closed, but then fought a little to stay open, “Okay,” his
voice slow and thick with exhaustion. Unexpectedly he managed to get his eyes
wide enough to look up into the emerald pools of Shale’s, “Thank you,” he said
and then gave a little peck on Shale’s neck before he closed his eyes and let
his head fall back into the furs.
The little peck and gratitude that Rezule showed made Shale’s throat tighten.
He didn’t know why it made him so emotional. He had literally saved this man
from suffering from being tortured in a dungeon and left to slowly die, but
other than that, they had barely spent any time together where both of them
were fully conscious. However, Shale could see that Rezule’s tender side was
buried very deep within his character and maybe that was what had touched
Shale’s heart. Not the gratitude, but that Rezule had peeled back enough layers
for Shale that he was able to show a sweetness that he was probably unable to
do living in the hard country of Cayphaell.
Shale pushed away some of Rezule’s wild black hair off of his forehead and away
from his eyes, and touched his lips to his forehead. The sleeping man didn’t
stir. The breeches he had been wearing had gotten all the way to his ankles
during their rough housing, so Shale just removed them, shook them out, then
folded them and placed them on the end of the cot. He went back to Rezule and
decided to leave him in the furs, instead of risk waking him up by moving him
to the cot. Grabbing one of the bigger elk pelts, Shale pulled it up and tucked
Rezule in, making sure he was covered all the way up to his shoulders. The dark
hair man nuzzled the furs that his head rested on and curled up under the pelt.
The cute display of sleep made Shale’s cock throb between his legs. Being in
the same tent as Rezule was doing nothing to get rid of his own hard on and he
now felt the frustration poor Rezule was having when his was accompanied by
pain. Shale didn’t think that Rezule was as attracted to him as he was to
Rezule. His was border line ridiculous.
Quickly tending to the fire and redressing with his now crumpled coat and
cloak, Shale quickly made his way out of his tent and snuck off to the edge of
the camp and into the surrounding wood. He had things he had to do today and
duties to attend to and his breeches did nothing to hide his arousal.
Finding a thick patch of spruce trees a satisfying distance from camp, Shale
removed his erect cock from his pants. The frigid air did nothing to shrink his
hard on, the flash of blue eyes and dark hair in Shale’s head made it throb.
Shale wrapped his hand around himself and began to stroke, squeezing harder and
harder until it was painful. He had always had a tough time jerking himself off
and getting blow jobs. He would almost never have an orgasm and he even lasted
a very long time when he was inside of someone. Pain was the only way he could
get the fire in his lower belly to light.
Taking his other hand he grabbed his balls, took a deep breath then gave a
rough twist. He cried out a little in pain, but it wasn’t until he dug his
thumb nail into the tip of his cock that he felt his balls draw up and he
spewed his load into the snowy ground at his feet.
***** Thunder *****
Shale stood at the entrance to Commander Lark’s tent and looked at the present
company. Only Captain Rill and Sheera were sitting on each side of Lark, who
sat at the head of the table. On a normal call to the tent, Lark would have all
the other captains sitting at the table with him. Immediately suspicious, Shale
sat down beside Rill, and nodded to Lark.
“We all know why only the four of us are here” Captain Lark began. “The fate of
the prisoner must be fully discussed due to a new development concerning his
origins. Sheera, we all need to hear a full explanation for what happened this
morning and why it is relevant.”
Shale’s ears perked as Sheera took a deep, shaky breath before she began. He
noticed she had been crying, her eyes red and a little puffy and her usually
graceful long blonde locks hung limp and a little scraggily on her white
cloaked shoulders.
“Rezule has magic inside of him,” her voice started, a little shaky.
Shale was stunned into silence. So was the whole table.
It was rare for a male to be born with magic. One of every twenty children born
with magic was a male, and nobody knew why that was. For a child out of the
Spirit Bear clan, much less one born south of the mountains to a race that is
known for nothing but savagery, to possess any magical properties... It
behooved and took those at the table into stillness, no one dared to breathe.
No wonder Sheera was so shaken up, Shale thought. It must have been quite
startling for her.
Magic was like an extra body part to those born with it and a magic users spend
their entire live’s learning to control it. It usually shows itself around two
years of age, when the child will naturally try to control it and items would
begin flying around the household. At that time, the High Order would come,
train the child in its home with its mother present until it was ten years of
age. Mothers, it seemed, had an uncanny ability to help the child through their
first stages of magic control. Shale wondered if Rezule’s mother was like that.
At age ten, the magic users are sent for apprenticeships in different fields.
Farming, sword forgery, etc. The most powerful or “touched” were chosen to be
healers. Healers were chosen when the member of the High Order melded with the
child’s magic and was met by the spirit bear. Shale stopped his thoughts as
Sheera continued hesitantly.
 “He is not Cayphaellian, at least not in soul or spirit. When I touched his
scar his magic was drawn to mine and sucked my magic in while bringing his
forward. He was dying from the shock his body had at the contact with both mine
and his own magic. In order to save him, I needed to trap his magic and seal it
away. When I entered his magic to do that I was met by the Spirit Bear...” she
paused, but everyone around the table was wide eyed enough to warrant no
response of awe. “His magic is very strong and vast. If the Spirit Bear hadn’t
helped me, I don’t know if I would have been able to put his magic away.” Her
voice caught on her last phrase and Shale realized that’s what had her so
shaken. She had lost total confidence in her abilities. Shale looked to
Commander Lark and saw that he had come to the same understanding of Sheera’s
state.
“Sheera,” Lark said gently, “What is the significance that you saw the Spirit
Bear while you were in his magic? That does mean he is a healer does it not?”
She had calmed her quivering breathing a bit and replied, “It does mean that he
is a healer, I think.”
“But can’t healers, or any magic users, only be from North of the mountains?”
asked Rill.
“Yes, but the Spirit Bear is present inside of him. He has Spirit Bear magic,
that is evident, and not all magic users are healers, but,” Sheera bit her lip
and her eyes were looking a the grains in the table trying to explain. “ When
the Spirit Bear helped me and the way that it appeared, the Bear didn’t just
touch him with its magic like he does with all healers, but the bear was
actually there. Inside of him. I could touch and feel it’s presence.”
“Can you feel it now?” Lark asked, curiosity blazed.
“No, I lost the feeling and the connection when I closed his magic.”
Shale could no longer hold his tongue but he managed to restrain himself to ask
a short question. “How did the bear appear differently?”
Sheera looked him in the eyes. Her brown ones softened as she recognized the
stiffness in his shoulders and knew he would have rather screamed at her. “
When a healer is recognized, the white bear often appears in a memory of the
child and in the background somewhere, like a detail in that memory that was
never noticed before. More often than not, it is not even a white bear that
appears but perhaps the shape of a bear in the clouds or a translucent shape
moving through trees. Even shadows in bear shape have been known to appear. But
in Rezule’s case, the bear approached me. It touched me and helped me with his
magic. It is unheard of.”
“What is your suggestion, then Sheera?” stated Lark.
Sheera hesitated looking between Lark and Shale. She avoided looking Shale in
the eyes when she said, “I believe his best option is to go to the Ridge and be
counseled by the High Order--”
“But they’ll torture him and you know it!” Boomed Shale. If it weren’t for
Rill’s quick reaction of bracing his forearm against his friend’s chest Shale
would have stood and thrown his chair. Serving together for so long had made
them quite close with each other’s reactions. More specifically, Rill knew the
moments when Shale would over react.
“We have no other option,” said Lark, his voice clipped and his eyes stern.
“You will behave like a proper Captain, and stay with your troops while the
prisoner will travel back to the Ridge. We cannot risk him knowing something
that we do not.” Shale opened his mouth to interrupt, but Lark held up his
hand. “The situation has not changed, only it is more dire that he get to the
ridge so we can figure out why he has magic and who exactly he is. I will
discuss this no more with you Shale. You are dismissed.”
Shale stood quickly and stormed out of the tent, heading to his stationed
troops planning to take his anger out on them during their drills.
The other three remained seated in silence until he was a good distance from
the tent. Rill spoke first.
“He has become alarmingly attached to the prisoner, and he is going to prove
extremely difficult to handle. You know him Lark, Sheera. What are we to do?”
“You will stay at his side and watch him,” Lark told Rill, “And Sheera...” he
hesitated almost wincing before he got the words out, “I’m suggesting that you
travel to the ridge as well. Now, now before you put up a fuss you have not
been yourself this morning and we will only be seeing small village battles for
the next few weeks until we start getting closer to the capital. We also have
more forces arriving and I’m sure the other healers can handle things until you
return. You need to go back to your people and fix whatever broke in you when
you touched the strange man.”
Sheera’s head shot up at this, and Lark gave her a small smile, “I know you
better than you think, my dear. Now go get some rest and tomorrow prepare to
leave. You will depart with Rezule next moonrise.”
Sheera nodded and left the tent without a word. Rill went to follow, but Lark
stopped him.
“Please, don’t let Shale do anything stupid.”
Rill nodded, “Yes, commander” and exited with a salute.
Commander Lark sat back in his chair and sighed. His mission had barely
started, there was no sign of what he was sent to search for, and now his most
volatile comrade had gotten himself infatuated with a prisoner of war. He
wanted to ask the world what else could go wrong, but he would not dare to
utter it out loud nor even silently in his mind.
***
Rezule awoke slowly. His body felt relaxed and the tightness in his muscles,
that he did’t know he had, was completely gone. The fire in the tent was low,
the only evidence it was even there at all, were it’s softly glowing embers,
throwing a faint orange glow onto the stones of the pit. The rest of the tent
was cast in the blue shadows of the moonless night. Rezule could not tell how
late it was, although he could still hear soldiers telling stories and joking
loudly, so his guess was not too far into the night.
Shale had not been back since, and that worried Rezule. Had he done something
wrong? Was it his fault that Shale had not returned?
He gave his head a shake. No, he was still in Shale’s tent and Sheera had come
in earlier to check on his injuries.
Her face had worried him, though. Her eyes had been downcast and she kept at
least a foot of space between herself and him, at all times. The light laughter
and teasing that had occurred in their interaction before was gone. He had to
wonder if this was caused by his strange black out that morning, but the
expression on her face made him afraid to ask. She had inspected his healing
injuries without touching him or saying a word, and had given him another
strange tea to help him sleep. Rezule downed it in front of her, which seemed
to satisfy her, but did nothing to lift her mood.
When she left, Rezule sat there alone in the furs. At first he tried to
immediately go to sleep, but found at every movement outside the tent doors had
him lifting his head to see if it was Shale. After a while, exhaustion took
over and Rezule fell into a dreamless slumber.
He was brought out of his thoughts then by the ruffle of the tent door being
shoved to the side. Shale entered the tent, a little unsteady on his legs.
Rezule wondered if he was drunk, but the haggard look on Shale’s face and the
crusty hair from dripping sweat bade that he had just exerted himself
immensely. Shale dropped his cloak and the military coat to the floor and made
his way to his cot. Once he sat down, his eyes met Rezule’s. The sadness in
them startled Rezule, and he quickly got up, carrying one of the pelts he had
been laying on to cover his nakedness, and made his way over to Shale. As he
sat down slowly on the cot beside him, Shale’s eyes left him to stare at the
faint glowing coals of the fire. They were left in a brief epitome of silence.
Rezule was a little uncomfortable, his eyes searching the coals in the fire pit
for something to say. Shale was the first to break the awkward silence.
“You leave tomorrow night,” he said, his voice low, and nearly a whisper.
“I figured as much,” Rezule replied equally as quiet. “Sheera came in and told
me she was checking to make sure I was healthy enough to travel.”
Shale still stared at the fire, seemingly unaffected by Rezule’s words.
“Is everything alright? Sheera seemed very upset when she checked on me, and
now you...”
“I seem upset?” Shale huffed, his voice no longer a whisper, and Rezule
flinched a little. The more he interacted with these people the more confusing
his situation became.
“Yes,” Rezule swallowed, “was it something I did?”
“No... and yes,” Shale’s last two words seemed to carry all of is exhaustion.
“You are a prisoner of war, but when Sheera touched you today, you blacked out
because you have magic in-”
“I have magic?!” Rezule interrupted, stunned.
“Yes, Sheera will explain it all to you during your travels, I am no good at
explaining the theory of it. What I do know is that she saw the white bear
inside of you. She says that makes you a healer. “ Shale turned to Rezule then,
his green eyes almost drained of colour, due to the dim light or exhaustion
Rezule couldn’t tell. Worry laced through Rezule’s chest at the man’s
expression; one of longing and sorrow.
“Sheera will be taking you to The Ridge tomorrow. It is the main boarder
settlement of-”
“You won’t be coming?” Rezule interrupted again.
“I can’t. I have duties to attend to in order for us to reach the capitol.” His
voice sounded resigned but his face told Rezule just how unhappy we was about
the situation.
“But why can’t I just come with you to the capitol?” Rezule began, “I can help,
I am a trained soldier, you know.”
Shale let out an exasperated sigh. “You are Cayphaellian. I cannot ask you to
fight against your own people.”
“Have you even seen my eyes? Have you met a Cayphaellian? What makes you think
any part of me wouldn’t want to fight against these people. You saw what they
did to me-”
“Enough!” Shale’s voice was sharp and his exhausted gaze grew harder as the
skin around his eyes tightened. “I have no choice in the matter. Orders are for
you to travel to the ridge and for Sheera, not me, to ride with you. As a
prisoner of war your rights have been relinquished to the policies of our
country.”
“So you mean at The Ridge...” It dawned on Rezule that the extra treatment he
had received from Shale would not protect him from this oncoming war. His next
words were not a question. “I’m going to be tortured.”
“No! I won’t, I can’t...” Shale’s voice wavered, and as Rezule looked into his
eyes he saw them glass. Shale’s hands came up a held each side of Rezule’s
face. “I will not let them, okay. But you’re going to have to go with Sheera. I
cannot disobey my commander’s orders on this, but I do promise that I will come
for you.”
Rezule was frozen in silence. This was all happening very fast for him, and the
emotion in Shale’s reaction to his situation humbled him to complete shock.
Nobody had shed a tear for him since his mother passed, nor had anyone cared
for him in any form. His father had barely cared if he lived and when he was
sent to the training compound, he doubted if his father ever gave the thought
that he might never see his son again.
Rezule responded by breathing Shale’s name, and then Shale’s hands drew their
faces closer together and their lips clashed in a heated embrace. Rezule
wrapped his arms around Shale’s neck, but quickly withdrew from the kiss.
“You’re freezing,” He could feel the damp fabric of Shale’s thin shirt and the
frigid skin of his shoulder blades underneath his hands.
“So,” was all that Shale uttered before he removed his damp shirt and wrapped
Rezule in his arms. As their lips touched again, Shale lowered them both into
the plush pelts of the cot, with himself on top. Rezule ran his hands down
Shale’s back, the puckered goosebumps tickling his finger tips. Shale released
the kiss and began dragging his lips down Rezule’s throat.
“Switch me places,” Rezule suggested breathlessly.
In one deft movement, Shale had Rezule on top of him. The dark haired man’s
naked pelvis against his own; wrapped in a belt and breeches. Shale kicked off
his boots as he watched Rezule gather a large, thick pelt, wrap it around his
shoulders, then bring it down on top of both of them. Rezule’s bare body was
flush with Shale’s, and Shale relished in the feeling of their torso’s touching
and the heat that got trapped under the pelt.
Their lips met again, but with Shale on his back, Rezule had the most control
and the kiss was more languid. It became less tongues and teeth and more lips
and breathes. Rezule’s hip bones sat slightly higher on Shale, but the heat
between them grew and it became hard to ignore the parts that were touching.
When Rezule’s wandering lips found Shale’s jaw, he was able to gasp out, “How
healed did she-....” He lost his train of thought as Rezule’s teeth found the
sensitive skin of his neck. “I mean, did Sheera say you could...”
Rezule released Shale’s skin from his mouth. “She said no, not for another
week. I’d still bleed, and she said I wouldn’t be able to sit on a horse
tomorrow so she’d know and she’d have both our hides for it.”
Shale nodded, “That’s definitely Sheera,” And began to chuckle, which turned
into a sharp inhale as Rezule’s tongue tickled his nipple. His body arched into
the smaller man’s and was met with a matched groan of lust. Rezule’s hands
massaged Shale’s pectoral muscles, then moved down his ribcage as he placed his
lips on Shale’s for another kiss, this one soft and lingering.
In that split second, their attentions on each other became less lustful and
heated, and they just began to explore each other's bodies. Rezule exhaled into
Shale’s mouth and the taste of him, like smoke on a crisp winter morning, sent
shivers down Shale’s spine and caused his breath to shake. His hands griped
Rezule’s thighs and he slid them up to his round butt, his fingers gently
playing with the crease.That got a growl out of the dark haired man, and Shale
felt Rezule pull off his breeches, he hadn’t even notice him unbuckling his
belt. They were pushed to the foot of the cot, and Shale felt his back stiffen
into an arch and his pelvis thrust up into Rezule as hands rubbed their way
down the inside of his thighs. He felt his aching member heavy against his
abdomen, and his balls drew tight when Rezule’s engorged cock brushed his own.
“Rezule,” he said, voice filled with gravel.
“Shhhh,” was the only reply he got, and Rezule placed their mouths back
together, using his teeth to graze the inside of Shale’s bottom lip. Rezule’s
hand found both of their cocks and squeezed as he thrust his hips. The friction
that was made was delicious. Their hip bone’s knocked as they thrusted into
each other and the soft sound of their ball sacks slapping together was enough
for both of them to be left breathless and sweating. Shale felt Rezule’s balls
tighten, then the man came with a small cry, muffled by Shale’s neck.
Shale nearly came at the same time, but he always had this problem. He needed
it to hurt.
“Rezule, I need...” Before he could explain what he needed him to do, Shale
felt a sharp burning in his rectum. Rezule’s middle finder was inside of him.
Before Shale could panic Rezule touched something. The pain turned into
immediate pleasure and Shale came, hard. He felt his whole body arch of the bed
and his mouth opened into a silent cry of pleasure. He felt his hot cum spray
all the way onto his chest and as he settled down back into the cot, his
ribcage heaved.
“You’ve never had anyone do that for you, have you, Shale?” Rezule questioned
with his head tilted to one side like a curious puppy.
His breath still had not returned to a manageable pace but Shale was able to
answer by shaking his head. He was still a little stunned and wasn’t quite sure
if he really wanted to or did not want to do it again. Rezule laid back down
after cleaning up the mess on both of them with one of the smaller sized pelts
they were laying on top of. He snuggled into Shale’s side, head resting on his
shoulder.
They stayed like that for a few moments, Shale looking up at the top of the
tent, and Rezule reveling in the warmth of a strong, gentle body next to his.
Shale’s head was buzzing and his stomach was in knots with what he was feeling.
This strange, blue eyed creature had fully captured him, body, mind, and now
soul. His thoughts wandered to what the next day would bring, and an ache
started in his chest. Rezule would leave and he might not ever see him again.
His body tensed at the loss of control that he felt with the situation.
“What is it?” Rezule asked quietly.
“It’s nothing”
“It isn’t nothing when I finally get you to relax, and in less than a minute,
you’re rigid as a board again.”
The tone is Rezule’s voice made Shale look into his face. The young man’s
crystal blue eyes bore into his own, demanding an answer.
“Your eyes are beautiful.”
Rezule bristled, and he answered back with a demanding, “Don’t change the
subject, tell me.” But the blush that ran across his cheek bones gave it away.
No one had every called his eyes anything but strange or scary. His mother had
never even called them beautiful, always telling him that he just had special
eyes whenever he asked why their colour was so different. That Shale found
them... beautiful, it sent Rezule’s heart to beat harder against his chest.
Giving in, despite the state he had seemed to put Rezule in by his comment,
Shale took a breath and confessed, “I was thinking about tomorrow night.”
“Oh,” was the answer got. Rezule then snuggled in further into the crook of his
arm and wrapped his one arm around Shale’s torso. Understanding the need for
closeness, Shale turned on his side, wrapped both arms around the young man and
held him to his chest.
When Rezule finally looked back at Shale, his eyes blazed. “What awaits me at
The Ridge?”
“I... I don’t want to tell you, I can’t tell you,” Shale turned his head a
little so he wouldn’t have to look into Rezule’s eyes.
“The least you can do is let me know my fate. I know you can’t protect me, but
I have a right to know-”
“I can’t Rezule!” Shale realized he snapped, and he closed his eyes and took a
breath before continuing. “ At The Ridge, I cannot tell you what they will do
to you. Even I don’t want to know that. However, I can tell you who.”
Rezule looked at him a bit skeptically, “Go on.”
“The members of our tribe that occupy The Ridge are our most powerful magic
users, it being a settlement in the only passable valley to get to our lands.
But, these magic users do not practice the same magic as Sheera. My
understanding is that they use darker magic, and they get it from the
misfortune they themselves have befallen, or from...” Shale paused, not sure if
he should continue or not. One look from Rezule’s narrowed eyes had him return
to speaking reluctantly. “Or from the pain and suffering of others.”
“So I am going to be tortured, and their going to feed off of it.”
Shale’s eyes went dark at his comment. “I wouldn’t put it that bluntly, but if
you must know more about it you can ask Sheera. She’s been there before, and
has watched them.” His voice was clipped and he knew he sounded irritated. The
way that Rezule was talking about that place... Shale knew that Rezule had
every right to be angry and frustrated with his position, and he lashed out at
him. Just moments before he had confessed to himself that he would do anything
for this man, and now he would so easily hand him over to people that he knew
would break him, would change him from the fiery little warrior he was now.
This revelation dawning in Shale’s mind, he placed his hands on each side of
Rezule’s face and stared him straight into his glacier eyes.
“I will not let them touch you.”
Rezule tried to pull away from his hands. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“I will keep this promise, and that is that I will do everything in my power to
keep them from getting to you.” Shale watched as the blue eyes softened from
their frosty colour to melt into pools of blue. The young man nodded, relaxed
almost every muscle in his body, and snuggled back against Shale. With a heavy
sigh he closed his eyes and fell to sleep.
Shale stared back up at the top of the tent wondering what he had done. Defying
the dark magic users of The Ridge, the Dark Order to be more precise, was
against his very oaths of knighthood and his positions of a captain. Never go
against any form of magic, for those who have magic are touched by the White
Spirit, and the White Spirit is sacred.
Shale lay there drifting in and out of sleep. His mind was still running,
wondering how he was going to get himself out of this situation, but his body
was exhausted. He had worked himself and his men to the bone today, and
tomorrow they would all be a little worse for wear.
Dozing in and out he thought he heard something, but the more he thought, it
was what he didn’t hear that bothered him. Guards on duty usually talked all
through the night always working in pairs, and wore full armor and that in
itself was loud. Shale’s tent was near the outer southern edge of the camp, so
it was usual to hear Rud or Lorn joking around with each other this time of
night. Shale heard nothing.
He slowly crawled out of the cot, and retrieved his breeches, careful not to
wake Rezule, spirit knew the man needed sleep.
Shale was just doing the ties on his pants up when he smelt the smoke. Too much
smoke. Before he had the last knot done up a darkly clad soldier swiftly swung
a blade at the fabric of the tent to open the flap.
Smoke billowed from the base of the red fabric of Shale’s tent then, causing
little visibility as it quickly traveled upward to the opening at the top of
the tent.
Shale dove for his sword, putting himself between the Cayphaellian and Rezule.
He couldn’t tell if Rezule was still asleep or awake, but he heard battle cries
from the tents around him and let out his own. As his hand wrapped around the
leather pommel of his sword, he braced himself as the soldier charged.
 On any normal day, Shale would have been able to draw the blade and block the
downswing of the attacking blade. He saw it, and his muscle memory reacted to
time it perfectly. Only, something was wrong. As he withdrew his blade from the
sheath and proceeded to swing it upward and horizontal for a block, he felt his
arms spasm. He had nearly killed himself to exhaustion that day training, and
after sweating right through his captain’s coat and cloak he had been too busy
fretting over telling Rezule where he would have to go, to think about drinking
any water. A dehydration cramp, that’s what it was, that’s all it was. Those
thoughts were Shale’s only ones as he watched the Cayphaellian blade slam into
the top of his shoulder, burst through the skin and sink all the way to his
collar bone; all two inches of the width of the blade buried in his flesh. He
heard a crack and felt his shoulder give as the blade sunk even deeper, past
the bone.
Everything became muffled then, the inhuman battle cry from behind him and the
blur of Rezule as the man grabbed the sword that Shale had dropped. Shale
wanted to tell him to stop, to give him the sword and he would protect him, but
his mouth wouldn’t work, and he was frozen in his position, kneeling on one
knee, eyes staring into the black ones of his attacker. It felt to him like
some cruel, humiliating knighting ritual, and he felt his stomach tighten in
nausea.
It all happened so fast that Shale was still staring into the eyes of the
attacker when he saw his blade swing and fully decapitate the soldier. Blood
sprayed over him for a few seconds, turning his vision into a red haze, then he
saw the head drop. The body jerked, them slumped and he felt the pommel side of
the blade in his shoulder drop to the ground. He saw a flash of blue eyes, but
more dark figures entered the tent. His hearing was gone and his vision was
leaving him by the second, but before it went completely black it sharped for
just a moment.
A naked figure held his sword, blue eyes almost glowing against the shiny
bright red that covered half of it’s face. It had swung the blade, gutting a
dark blur, and the blood that sprayed was suspended in the air. The teeth of
the figure gleamed white as it’s lips drew back into a snarl. Shale knew who it
was but didn’t believe it. The gentle, playful man had become a beast, covered
in blood.
***
Rezule didn’t know what to do. His hands were covered in both the blood of his
enemy's and Shale’s. The Spirit Bear warrior’s blood soaked the floor of the
tent and the fire swiftly ate at the surrounding fabric holding the tent
together. He didn’t want to move him, lest he bleed even more, yet he couldn’t
leave him here and run for Sheera. If the tent collapsed on top of Shale while
he was running to find the healer that might not even be able to help... Rezule
took a shuddering breath.
He’d have to try to heal him to stop the bleeding enough to get him out of
there.
Shale had said he had healing magic, but Rezule didn’t have the slightest idea
of how to use it. Concentrating, searching for some answer, he closed his eyes
and took a deep breath before he placed his hands on Shale. He prepared himself
and knew that once he drew the sword out the blood would come faster.
He grabbed the sword by the hilt and the blade, and slid it out of Shale’s
flesh. It made a sucking, wet noise as it slid out, and a great gush of blood
followed it. He watched horrified, as Shale’s eyes rolled to the back of his
head and his ragged breath stopped. Not knowing what else to do, Rezule placed
his hands directly on the wound trying to apply pressure.
Frustrated tears blurred his vision. He had no idea how to turn his magic on,
he didn’t even know if he could do this. He concentrated as hard as he could,
trying to find that magic within himself but he didn’t feel anything, and blood
continued to soak into the dirt around them.
Overwhelmed by the closeness of Shale’s death, Rezule began to feel one of the
greatest losses he had ever felt. His mind flashed him memories; of Shale’s
smiling green eyes and the warmth and comfort that he felt when the sandy
haired man had his arms around him. Rezule choked down a wail of grief as
something in him broke. He felt a rush of painful heat, like his skin, and
insides were on fire. Then his vision went blinding white. An unearthly scream
was heard in the distance, but Rezule didn’t know it was him until he felt
something come up his throat and fill his mouth with a sickly sweet coppery
liquid, gurgling his breath, which correlated with the muffling of the wail.
The white light went to darkness, and Rezule found himself drowning; sinking
into unconsciousness.
***** Lunar *****
The crackling of a fresh, and healthy fire, awoke Rezule from his sleep. Slowly
opening his eyes, he was blinded by the sunlight that shone through the hole in
the top, and through the gap in the slightly open tent door. Letting his eyes
adjust, Rezule was able to feel how sore his body was. His muscles ached like
he’d run with his full armor on through sticky mud, and his mouth was dry and
parched. After a few moments he was able to look around the tent he was in. It
was very small with nothing else in it save his cot, but it was the same red
shade as Shale’s... Shale.
Rezule swung out of bed so fast, the splitting headache that he received didn’t
hit him until he was already out the tent door. His socked feet became wet when
they met the snow, and his bare chest became peppered with goosebumps as he was
blasted with the cold outside air. The sun reflecting off the snow made
everything seem overly bright and the moving figures that he could see barely
came into focus. The first things that were recognizable were the red tents,
like the one he had just come out of. Soldiers were seated at fire pits in
front of some, their red shapes becoming distinguishable from the tents as
Rezule’s vision sharpened. Panicked, now that he saw no sight of Shale, he spun
around. Searching. He couldn’t be gone, their was no way-
Rezule cut off his own thought as he saw just the corner of a white robe
through a cluster of the red tents. Sheera.
Running, Rezule raced after the white robe, receiving some shouts and curious
stares from the soldiers around their fires. Focusing on nothing but catching
up to the white figure, Rezule unknowingly burst into what looked like the main
street for traffic within the war camp. He spooked several horses, but managed
to dodge out of their way, and avoid colliding with any of the other traffic
that went both ways down the slick, temporary road.
With success, Rezule weaved through the horses and soldiers and caught up to
the heeler. When he put his hand on her shoulder, she spun around to face him.
Only this wasn’t Sheera. The girl looked about the age of sixteen, with golden
blonde hair and soft, big brown eyes. She looked a bit surprised to see him,
but the first words that came out of her mouth were, “Oh, you’re awake.”
Looking away from her, and searching through the crowd Rezule answered, “I need
to find Sheera,” And he did need to find her. She would be the one looking
after Shale, if he wasn’t- Don’t think that! He berated himself.
Frustrated, his eyes never leaving the faces of the crowd in search of platinum
blonde hair or a mop of sand with green eyes, Rezule went to quickly move into
the traffic to see of he could find them, when he was slammed, face first, into
a wall of warmth. Startled, Rezule looked up... and into the green pools that
he so desperately searched for.
Unbelieving, he took a step back. It was definitely Shale. The man wore a plain
tunic with his usual tan breeches, and his red cloak was replaced by a grey
one, that looked much less elegant, but was still pinned with his captains
brooch. His green eyes sparkled with amusement, and his golden hair shone in
the sun. His cheeks and nose were rosy from the cold, and it brought out the
green in his eyes, very unlike the last Rezule had seen of him, with an ashen
face from blood loss and an aura like a fading light.
“I’m glad you’re up, but you must be freezing,” Shale’s words brought Rezule
out of his gawking, but his only response was to quickly run up to Shale, wrap
his arms around his neck and hold him close.
Shale gave a huff of surprise when Rezule hugged him, but responded in turn by
wrapping his arms around the man and pulling him flush against his body. He had
to be freezing, in only wool socks and thin breeches that the healers had put
on for modesty.
Shale let go first, then proceeded to pull out of Rezule’s grasp, when Rezule
remembered, and gasped. His hands flew to Shale’s left shoulder, but no whimper
of pain came from the man, and Rezule could not feel any bandages under the
tunic. Confused he asked, “How long have I been asleep?”
“A couple of days, “ Shale said casually as he unclipped his cloak from his
shoulders and swung it around Rezule.
Rezule let the warm cloak ingulf him, but felt, or rather couldn’t feel, how
frozen his feet were. He began to shake, and Shale took him by the shoulders
and led him back into the group of small red tents.
As they walked into the tent that Rezule had awoken in, he turned to Shale.
“What happened that night?”
“I thought it was obvious,” Shale said with a grin as he lead, Rezule to the
cot. “You healed me.”
Rezule sat down on the cot with a thump. There was no way that had worked. He
slowly lifted his legs up to warm his feet, his shivering already subsiding now
that he was is the warm tent. He remembered Shale’s blood covering his hands,
and then stared at the man before him.
Shale chuckled at the expression on Rezule’s face. “If you don’t believe me,
then here,” Shale removed his tunic.
His chest now bared, Rezule gaped. Where the sword had sunk into his shoulder,
their wasn’t even a scar. The skin was smooth and healthy.
“You must have over done it a bit too,” Shale said with a small smile as Rezule
stared. “I used to have two big scars on the back of this shoulder from a
scouting skirmish a few years ago, and they’re completely gone. And I used to
have a missing molar,” he opened his mouth comically wide with his finger
hooked on one cheek, showing Rezule a perfect row of bottom molars. Putting his
mouth back to normal, he said, “But it’s back!”
The look of goofy excitement and astonishment on Shale’s face made Rezule
laugh. His laugh, turned into a cough, and his cough sprayed something warm
from his mouth into his hands. When he was able to catch his breath he looked
into his cupped hands, and saw the coppery sheen of blood. Scared, he looked up
at Shale, who had his tunic in his grasp and was quick to wipe the blood off of
Rezule’s hands.
“Sheera says you’re okay now, but that there might be some bleeding,” Shale
wiped some blood away from the corner of Rezule’s mouth. “You’ll have to take
it easy for a bit. She was able to heal you but you almost killed yourself
healing me. Your lungs and throat were ripped to shreds. Sheera doesn’t know
how you survived. She says healing the injury like the one I had, so completely
and using only your magic should have sucked your life force away. ”
“What happened after I healed you?”
“We don’t really know. I woke up to you laying beside me, and the tent burning
around us. I just picked you up and ran.”
“What about the soldiers? Was it a raid?”
“The only tent that got lit and attacked was mine.”
Rezule thought about that for a moment, but his conclusion was met with
disbelief. “They were after me.”
“Aye... When you were fighting them, did you notice if they were trying to kill
you or not?”
“ I was kind of more worried about your life than mine Shale, I barely remember
slaying them.”
Shale bristled a bit, “Don’t say it like that.”
Rezule was confused by his reaction, “Like what? That I slew them?”
“Yes, that.” Shale looked even more uncomfortable.
“I slew them Shale. I cut them down and made sure they would never get back
up.” Rezule would have continued, but the look on Shale’s face made him stop.
“Does it really bother you that much that I killed them all?”
Shale kept Rezule’s hands in his own but didn’t meet his eyes. “Healers never
kill. It turns them dark. Thats how some of the dark order ended up at the
ridge. They were healers that, by misfortune or circumstance, killed so much
that they could no longer heal. Healers of the white, like Sheera, don’t even
carry weapons.”
“Oh,” said Rezule. “Well, I don’t feel dark. And I was able to heal you after
all.”
“Look, I know you’re a trained soldier but-”
“I’m a warrior, Shale,” Rezule’s eyes were sharp and cold as ice, “A warrior is
what I was bred and trained to be.”
“I know that,” Shale’s green eyes looked sadly at Rezule, “but you know you are
so much more, don’t you?”
Unbelieving Rezule replied, “I guess, with my magic, but what does that have to
do with anything?”
“It makes you one of us Rezule,” the green eyes gleamed.
“But I was born here, in Cayphaell, to my father Nortuk Glaurden, and my mother
Verilli Shauma. I am not from north of the mountains Shale.”
“Your body may not be,” Shale put one of Rezule’s hands on his chest over top
of his bear claw tattoo, “but in here, you are. Your healing magic only proves
that.”
Contemplating what he had just said, something clicked in Rezule’s head, which
would explain Shale’s much better mood, despite being miraculously healed.
“The Dark Order can’t touch me now can they?”
Shale grinned wickedly, “Not with living proof that you contain healing magic.
They can’t touch a hair on your head.” He ruffled Rezule’s mop of dark hair as
he said the words, then both grinned dumbly at each other.
In one quick movement, Shale knocked Rezule over on his back so he lay flat on
the cot. Before Rezule could let out a surprised squeal, Shale had their mouths
together, mixing tongues and breaths. They kissed for a few more moments until
Shale pulled away.
“Unfortunately, you still have to go to the ridge,” Rezule’s face darkened at
Shale’s words, “But it is more for your protection than for our gains,
especially after the other night. And guess who gets to escort you?”
“I’m assuming from your elevated mood that it’s going to be yourself, Captain?”
Rezule said teasingly.
“Exactly. Now come, we must get you dressed so you can pick out a horse, we
leave tonight.” Shale said as he crouched down and pulled out a small chest
from underneath the cot. Opening the chest he adorned a clean tunic for
himself, then threw a dry pair of socks, a tunic and a cloak onto Rezule’s lap.
 
Once Rezule was dressed and Shale found him a set of boots to wear, they exited
the tent. Shale had a very graceful swing to his step that Rezule had never
noticed before, this being only the second time with him out of a tent.
He watched the warrior’s cloak swing gallantly with every stride, and could
have smiled, if it weren’t for the stares that he received as they passed the
groups of red clad soldiers and other group of people that functioned in the
army settlement. Some eyes were just curious, but Rezule felt many that were
suspicious, and even a few that held malice. He walked faster to be closer
behind Shale. Worried about being closer to the man, his view of the area in
front of him was blocked off by Shale’s broad back.
Rezule could hear them before he saw them. Gentle snorts and the soft, feathery
sound of the mane against hide as they shook their necks. Excited, he bounded
in front of Shale, and was met with the site of a huge herd of horses. There
were some he recognized from his army camp and his heart suddenly entered his
throat.
“Most of the horses have owners, but I’m sure one of the ones we took from your
camp will be suitable...”
Rezule didn’t hear the rest of Shale’s words. He spotted her. His little grey
mare.
Her head was down, foraging through the thin layer of snow to get to the dried
grass underneath. Her ears only twitched at his whistle. Once Rezule reached
the corral fence he called for her, “Wicka!”
Her sculpted head shot up, eyes bright and her ears forward. She then threw her
head and bolted for the fence. Her canter was balanced on the slick footing and
she managed to slow by the time she reached Rezule. He was quickly on the other
side of the fence with her as she stopped, snorting some of the cold air from
her lungs and nuzzling Rezule, searching for treats.
“She yours?” asked Shale as he caught up and climbed the fence to join Rezule.
“Yes,” Rezule answered his face beaming. “I saved her when she was two. She was
an accidental breeding between a charger and a messenger horse, and they wanted
her gone when she was born since they couldn't sell her as anything. To small
to wear armor, but too big to be the fastest.” He let his hands pet the lovely
curve of her neck, her grey dapples sparkling in the winter sun.
“She is still a fine horse, must be why somebody put a claim to her,” Shale
pointed to a piece of leather braided into her mane.
The look he got from Rezule almost ripped Shale’s heart out of his chest. His
eyes were full of sorrow and loss and his posture wilted.
Quickly, Shale put his hand’s on Rezule’s shoulders and made him face him, “Hey
now, I’m a captain in this army. I have the means to get this horse back for
you, and it will be done by the end of the day.”
Rezule looked a little cheered up, but Shale could see he was still a bit
skeptical. “You have my word, alright?”
“Alright,” said Rezule, I smile returning to his face. As he hugged the mare
around her neck, and began to talk to her, Shale checked the leather piece in
her mane for the name that should be printed on it. The carved letters made a
sliver of ice imbed itself deep in his chest: NASS.
“What’s wrong,” asked Rezule. He had spotted Shale’s ashen expression.
Shaking his head, Shale smiled a bit, “Nothing, I just remembered something I
have to do before we leave. I will take you to Sheera and you can help her pack
our supplies for the journey.”
“Okay,” replied Rezule, but he didn’t believe him. Something was up with Shale,
but the look on his face made him not want to push.
He let Shale guide him through camp to Sheera’s private tent. Rezule expected
it to be red like all the others, but it turned out to be dyed a white shade.
Shale held the tent flap open for Rezule and he was immediately struck by the
smell. It was delicious, and inviting. Herbs hung from poles strapped across
the breadth of the tent above their heads, and white pelts were draped over two
chairs and the cot. Their was also a table that held neat piles and jars of
what looked like powders as well as mixing equipment. Several large chests
littered the room half filled with bandages and other healing supplies. Despite
this, it felt very homey to Rezule, and he sat down on one of the chairs beside
the table.
“Sheera will be here with our packs soon, you’ll have to wait, I have some
business that I must finish.”
Rezule nodded but didn’t say anything. If Shale would have looked back while
exiting Sheera’s tent, he would have seen how worried Rezule had become.
***** Haunt *****
Shale stood outside Captain Nass’s tent, the pit of his stomach up against his
throat. He didn’t want to see this man again. Greeting him as he arrived the
day before at the captain’s meeting had been enough for him.
Taking a deep breath to stele his courage, Shale nodded to the guard at the
door and stepped through the flap into Nass’s tent. He was greeted by a figure
at his desk, who looked up curiously, as a normal person would to someone
entering their occupied space. When those eyes recognized Shale, however, the
wicked smile that spread across that face did not belong to a normal person. It
was filled with a sick hunger and a slimy joy.
Captain Nass was a very good looking man. Tall, built well and had dark brown
hair with hazel eyes. However, all Shale saw was the grease he used to slick
back his hair and the greed in his eyes.
“Well, well, well, you were the last person I would have expected to freely
walk into my tent Captain Shale. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Shale could barely keep his eyes off the table, but braved a look at Nass in
the eyes as he said, “I’m here to ask you a favor. I wish for you to sell me
the grey Cayphaellian mare that you claimed, for a fair price of course.”
Nass’s mocking laugh boomed within the confines of the tent. “I would never
want any amount of money from you, my dear captain, but you already knew that,
didn’t you.”
Shale stood still, his shoulder’s squared. He knew what Nass wanted, and his
hands began to shake. He clasped them behind his back so Nass couldn’t see.
Nass stood up from behind his desk and slowly walked over to Shale, like a
predator. When the darker hair man stood toe to toe with Shale, he lifted a
hand and grabbed him by the chin. Hazel eyes bore into his green ones.
“Strip.”
Goosebumps crawled down Shale’s back at the old familiarity of the command, but
his shaky hands moved and removed his sword belt.
Another laugh escaped Nass, “This must be quite the mare,” he walked over to
the tent door and told his guard to keep everyone out. When he made it back to
Shale, his grin was even bigger. “or is it your little Cayphaellian slut that
desires this horse?”
Shale’s hands balled into fists, but he otherwise stayed still, his face
revealing no emotion.
Nass looked him up and down and Shale watched as something darker grew in his
eyes. “I said, strip!” The back of his hand caught Shale on the side of his
face.
Shale didn’t even shift his weight when the strike caught him. His head snapped
to the side, but he let a blank expression remain on his face. Recovering, he
slowly began to remove the rest of his clothes until he stood before Nass,
stark naked.
“Better,” Nass said as he raked his eyes up and down Shale. He turned around
then and pulled a discreet looking chest from underneath his cot. He opened it,
removing a steel syringe and filling it with a liquid as black as ink and thick
as mud.
Shale watched, his heart in his throat. The whole time he had been walking to
this tent he had been wondering if it was worth it. To give Nass the
satisfaction, to endanger himself for Rezule’s happiness. However, the smile of
happiness that Rezule showed, was worth it. That such a tender, young face had
barely ever smiled, but that he could change that in an instant, warmed him
greatly. Every good thing comes with a price.
Nass walked silently over to Shale then grabbed a good hand full of his hair
and pulled him to the ground. There was nothing gentle about it despite Shale’s
cooperation to kneel and lower himself to the hard fabric of the mat that made
up the floor of Nass’s tent.
Once he was on the ground Nass straddled his chest, pinning both arms to the
ground with his legs, not that Shale was planning to put up much of a fight.
His hand was still in Shale’s hair and cranked it to the side to expose his
throat. Slowly, Nass dug the dull needle into Shale’s neck. The pain was sharp,
and after several attempts of Nass missing the vein, the side of Shale’s neck
burned. Finally, the man found the vein and drove the drug into Shale.
Shale could feel the thick solution entering his blood stream. The pain from
the pressure it thickness created was brutal, and he quickly forgot about his
punctured skin. He felt his limbs become heavier, and as the drug reached his
brain his vision blurred. Then the real pain started.
Shale screamed, but it was quickly muffled by Nass’s hands held tightly against
his mouth. The pain reverberated through his body, like slick fire eels weaving
around his bones. He felt like he couldn’t breath. Nass’s hands clamped tighter
as Shale struggle to get rid of the pain. Like he could expel the darkness that
swam in his veins, he fought, arms and legs flailing; his whole body clenching
and unclenching in an undulating motion.
It was over in mere minutes, but for Shale it had been more of an eternity of
molten burning within his veins. His chest heaved, and he was covered head to
toe in a sheen of sweat that glistened from the flickering lantern light that
sat upon Nass’s desk. Hands were slowly removed from his tear streaked face,
when he felt another wave come. This one crawled up his back and clawed at the
inside of his temples. He cried out with pain, but no sound came out of his
gasping mouth.
Then he felt the world around him sink, and all he was left with was an endless
oblivion.
 
***
Rezule waited politely in Sheera’s tent... for all of five minutes.
That look on Shale’s face. The blonde man had looked worried, and with that,
his mood had been shrouded in a cloud of dread. There was also fear. That was
what scared Rezule the most, once he had recognized the twisted emotion was
hidden within Shale’s vermillion eyes.
Rezule stood up abruptly from his position on the bench, determined to follow
him and uncover whatever Shale was not telling him. As he neared the door, his
plan was foiled by the silver haired healer.
She opened the tent flap quickly, muttering to herself, and furiously swinging,
what looked to be a basket of laundry, into the tent. Basket swinging first,
her attention drawn to inside the tent later, the basket hit Rezule square in
the groin. She hadn’t seen him, assuming the door way of her tent was clear,
and he hadn’t dodged, because his mind was tunneled by the thought of getting
to Shale. Surprise took them both for a loop, Rezule more than Sheera. She
dropped the basket, and began stuttering apologies, wilts Rezule had falling to
his knees in a wheezing, gusty, breath, hands held protectively over his groin.
As Rezule half stood there, hissing through clenched teeth, he felt his chest
shudder. Not in a bad way, but in an unfamiliar one. The pain he was
experiencing was less to do with the blow to his testicles, and more to do with
the slight tenderness that was still present from his past injuries. His chest
shuddered again, and he realized he was laughing. A big guffaw of a laugh, not
the small chuckles he had been giving away as of late.
Sheera, flustering around him, froze in confusion at his response. She bent to
grab him by the elbow and help him up, and Rezule saw a smile break through her
currently sullen features. She lead him back to the bench and sat down beside
him as he sobered up.
“I’m sorry,” a small after laugh of rushed air escaped his lips, “I just
haven’t had anything happen to me that was... funny, in a very long time.”
Sheera looked at him quizzically, calculating. The small smile he managed to
put on her face was still there when she spoke.
“You have nothing to be sorry for, it is I who should be apologizing,”
“Nonsense, you didn’t even see me, and timing was fluke. I can see my laughter
has become contagious though.”
Her smile broadened, but Rezule was a bit disappointed to see that it didn’t
quite reach her eyes. He knew she had been shaken by the events of the previous
days, but the air remained tense around them, despite his attempt to loosen it
with humor.
She patted his knee, lightly, with a bit of caution. “You’re all right now?”
Rezule nodded, his hands removed from between his legs.
“Right then,” Sheera stood up and collected the forgotten laundry basket from
the floor and placed it onto the table. She took the laundry out of it, folding
the ones that were ruffled by the incident. She turned toward him, empty basket
in hand. “Lets go gather supplies for our trip”.
 
Rezule spent the majority of the day with Sheera. They walked around the camp,
wandering from different supply tents, gathering food, extra clothing, and
other things that they would need for the journey. Rezule got some stares, but
one sideways glance from Sheera had them turning back to their business, so he
was relatively ignored.
Through gentle conversation that became less and less tense as the day went by,
Rezule was able to gather that their journey would take three days if they
moved quickly. A messenger had been deployed that morning, so when they arrived
everything should be prepared for them. He asked about the journey and Sheera
began to describe the most lovely of views that one could see from the mountain
tops, and although some of the trails were dangerous, the unending beauty of
the landscape was not to be missed. The terrain of the Spirit Bear Clans was
one that was filled with mountains, and almost seemed endless when looked upon
from a high peak. The Cayphaellian landscape was just a land of slopping foot
hills, and Rezule’s excitement to see these great heights grew at their
oncoming journey.
Making it back to the tent, Rezule’s arms weighed down by several saddle bags,
extra cloaks, sacks of camp supplies and three bedrolls underneath his arms,
Rezule dropped his cargo unceremoniously to the floor. Sheera set her basket of
dry food on the center table, and looked at Rezule’s heap of supplies with a
raised eyebrow. Rezule ignored her obvious disapproval of his organization
skills, and began to divide the supplies into the three saddle bags.
Working in a comfortable silence, Rezule had just finished the saddle bags for
each of them when Shale entered the tent. Rezule stood up with a big grin
waiting, but it was dulled by the sight of Shale. He hair was a mess, his
clothe’s were a bit wrinkled, and the skin on his face looked a little tight.
Rezule managed to hold onto his grin, when Shale answered with one, then came
over and gave the blue eyed man’s hair a good ruffle, but the pang of worry he
had was still held in his gut.
“Good work, I see,” green eyes scanned the neat saddle bags, “we will be
leaving at dawn tomorrow. Rezule and I will bring the horses around if that’s
alright.”
Sheera glanced up from her work on mixing herbs, “If you are able to catch my
mare, then by all means. “
Shale nodded in confidence then turned to leave and beckoned Rezule to follow.
“Goodnight, Sheera,”
“Goodnight you two” her words were directed at both of them, but her eyes
rested on Rezule. The emotion of worry that existed in those amber pools, gave
a slight twist to Rezule’s gut. There was something seriously wrong with Shale,
and he wasn’t just imagining things. Sheera’s look confirmed his suspicions.
They made their way to Shale’s tent in silence. There was a fire already
waiting for them, and what once had been a bare tent was now a small one filled
with most of Shale’s things that had been rescued from the fire. His armor was
there, a little darker that usual but with most of the soot polished out. A new
trunk was also there along with a bundle of unfamiliar furs. His captain's
chest full of papers was gone, which wasn’t surprising, and a small table and
chair were put in place to fill up the room.
Rezule turned around, his courage finally gathered to confront Shale, but the
question was lost when hot lips crashed into his. The kiss took him by
surprise, but he readily melted into it, letting Shale explore with his tongue.
Shale’s hands removed Rezule’s cloak and dropped it to the floor, and then
removed his own, gently pushing Rezule towards the cot. The back of Rezule’s
knees hit the edge and was then muscled onto the it by Shale. Tunics were
ripped over heads, belts hastily unbuckled, and boots flew closely followed by
socks. Hands raked across skin, and Rezule arched up into Shale’s touch, a
breathless gasp leaving his lips.
The blonde man, nipped and sucked at the base of Rezule’s neck; his tongue
feeling diaphanous against the younger man’s throat. His hands raked down
Rezule’s sides, and then to his hips, where he found the waistband of the
breaches and pulled them down and off. Rezule groaned as the large hands
kneaded the cheeks of his ass, slightly spreading them. He gasped and groaned
when Shale found his nipple with his mouth, and undulated to the different
sensations undergoing his body.
Shale’s fingers got closer and closer to his opening, but Rezule felt
comfortable and safe in his hands, didn’t he? A string of doubt began to foster
suspicion in Rezule, which only grew as Shale began to get rougher and rougher,
with his touch. The scrapping of fingers up and down his sides and over his
buttocks, became the biting drag of nails. Nibbles became hard bites, and
Rezule thought the one he sustained to his nipple possibly drew blood.
Fear flowed into Rezule’s throat like ethereal snake, coiling and threatening.
Rezule placed his palms on Shale’s chest and pushed gently, hoping he would get
the hint, but it seemed to encourage him more than anything. Shale’s movements
were fast now, and seemed desperate. The vermillion that was his eyes seemed to
be a bit fogged over. Rezule pushed again, but was met by an even harder kiss,
one that was enough to bruise his lips. Teeth came out, and Rezule only got a
flash of enamel before he tasted his own blood.
His terror spiked and he shoved Shale away from, but the man came back, hands
grasping, and teeth wild. Rezule fought it, clawing back with his own nails and
biting with his own teeth. Shale was just that much heavier that it was harder
to over throw him, but Rezule saw the moment when Shale’s balance was slightly
off because of the narrow cot, and used it to his advantage. They rolled off
the cot, Shale’s back landing on the hard cold floor of the tent, Rezule on top
of him. The impact knocked the wind out of Shale, and Rezule took that moment
to remove himself from the man. He scrambled away and placed himself on the
opposite side of the fire from him.
Rezule’s ribcage heaved, and he didn’t realize how close he was to a panic
attack until he felt he was a safe distance from Shale.
***** Uneven *****
Sheera’s thoughts wandered between the wide eyed Rezule and the sorrowful
looking Shale. The Cayphaellian man, who once watched with caution, was now as
skittish as a foal. A simple touch startled him, and any loud noise made him
jump. Shale was no better. Gone was his usual playfulness and general childish
joy at adventures. It was replaced with a pale visage, accompanied by purple
bags beneath his eyes. Sheera had asked if he felt ill before they had mounted
their horses but he waved her off, a deep sorrow etched into the lines of his
face, and refused to talk.
The first day of their journey was a silent one. The horses plodded calmly on
the frozen path, single file, Sheera in the lead while Shale took up the rear.
They had left before dawn, under the cover of a night sky with no moon, and it
was dusk by the time they reached their first camp. They had been traveling
through the wild forests all day, and they got off their horses stiffly and set
up camp.
The silence was beginning to get to Sheera. She new something had transpired
between them, and she at first thought perhaps a silly lover’s spat, but the
presence of Captain Nass within the camp made her pause. Nass and Shale had a
history, a very dark one. She had been one of the people to pull Shale out of
that darkness, to save his life. Fear clawed at her lungs. It couldn’t be, it
was impossible. Her head snapped up from unpacking some of the food to find
Shale. The captain was unrolling his bedroll when a fit of coughing made him
pause. Sheera’s fear sank even deeper. He coughed into his black gloved hand,
then stared at his palm for a couple seconds. He grabbed a hand full of snow
and rubbed it betweens his hands, while calling out that he would go and fetch
some fire wood. Sheera nodded and Rezule gave no indication that he had heard.
The healer slowly made her way over to where Shale had set up his bedroll once
the captain had disappeared into the trees. She moved her food around in the
shallow snow, and it squeezed her heart to see the pink streaks in the soft
powder.
“Stay here, don’t move, I will return shortly,” she barked at Rezule. He paused
from untacking his mare and turned with a look of absolute confusion, as Sheera
stormed off into the woods.
 
She followed Shale’s tracks, her racing heart and the fear nipping at her heals
making her run.
She heard his muffled cries of pain before she saw him. He slumped against the
great trunk of a dormant oak, his glove in his mouth, and left sleeve drawn up
with his dagger belt as a turnicate around his bicep.
Sheera rushed to him, removing the empty syringe from his right hand, the cold
metal of it biting into her bare fingers. His eyes were clouded and his body
was rigid with pain. She felt his pulse, and it fluttered and then pounded
against her finger tips in a wild rhythm. She removed the turnicate, rolled
down his sleeve and watched him battle with pain as tears rolled down her
cheeks.
 
Rezule stared dumfounded into the trees after the healer. Last night had
terrified him. Shale had realized quickly what he had done, and took a fur and
laid down upon the tent floor and let Rezule have the cot, yet the dark haired
man still fretted. The Shale that had walked through the tent door was not the
same man that he had growing affections for and now, as the healer rushed after
the captain, the worry that had lain dormant from fear and anger, blossomed in
his chest.
What had happened to the Spirit Bear warrior? Was it something he had done? Was
this just Shale’s true nature or was something seriously wrong? Rezule battled
with his thoughts and mechanically untacked the other’s horses.
The two people of the Spirit Bear did not return until the the last sliver if
red sun could just be seen behind the tree line. Sheera walked into camp first,
her eyes glassy and red rimmed. Shale was just behind her and what Rezule saw
made him stand up and rush to him, but a look from Sheera halted him in his
tracks.
Shale’s bright vermillion eyes were empty, almost dead looking. His face was
void of any emotion and he walked with slow deliberation that looked unnatural.
Rezule shook as he watched the captain lay down on his bedroll, cover himself
in his blanket and eerily fell asleep. Rezule’s blue eyes blazed as they
snapped their attention to Sheera, demanding answers.
The healer looked shaken and she heavily sat down on the log beside the measly
fire that Rezule had made while waiting for them to gather larger pieces of
wood. His should have been disappointed that none of their arms carried even a
twig.
Staring into the small flames Sheera began to speak, “Our country is ruled by
clans, not by nobility, as yours is. We do not serve a king, we serve a head of
clan, or Drakna. The head of clan is interchangeable depending on a family’s
wealth and military influence. However, our system is primarily run by our
healing temples. We believe all life is sacred and the ability and magic to
heal comes from the power of the Spirit Bear, the bringer and protector of all
life.” Rezule noticed her hands round into fists, but her voice was steady.
“The Dark ones, who rule and protect our borders belong to the temple order,
but they are allowed free reign to protect our people. They are in charge of
most of the military situations. ‘
‘When Shale had graduated from the academy to become a warrior, he was randomly
picked by the Dark order, and given to be under Nass’s command. At the time he
was a lieutenant, and Shale was quickly made his second lieutenant. The Order
had, at that time, developed a type of solution, one that, when injected,
eliminated the stress, night terrors, and shock that plagued many of our
soldiers.” Her breath shook at the last sentence, and Rezule saw that her
cheeks shimmered in the faint firelight.
“The drug made them fall into a semi-conscious state. They were dead to the
world for a few hours after taking it, but their senses remained sharp, their
reflexes vigilant. They held no emotion and some were even more skilled in
combat. They were able to fight for our country when before, the shock of
battle was too much. The test, however, had to be done in secret, as the
healers temple would never agree, and also to see how it effected everyone,
young and old, green or seasoned. Shale was so young. He was on his sixteenth
winter when he was first given the drug.” Her hand covered her mouth as a sob
shook her, Rezule sat still, his heart in his throat. His nostrils flared in
anger at what had been done to Shale but he kept silent and let her speak.
 “Nass was charged with getting close, onto a familiar level with Shale, and
then Shale took it willingly, using it in the battles that they saw, and even
sometimes in training. After a couple of months of minimal doses, Shale’s liver
began to fail,” Her voice became airy, and her eyes were flooded with the
memory of a blonde boy on a table, blood pouring from his nose and mouth and
writhing in pain. “That is when the healer’s temple found out about the drug,
and it was stopped, but not before it did so much damage.” Her eyes shone as
she finally turned to face Rezule, the dark haired man staring thoughtfully
into the flames.
Rezule could feel his rage prickle up his spine, but was calmed by the notion
that revenge would be sought later. Nass was a dead man.“Does one of the side
effects cause mood swings?”
“It causes eradication of regular behavior, and heightened anxiety for a bit
afterwards.”
Rezule nodded, almost pensively. He did not look at Sheera as he spoke. “I
think Shale tried to rape me last night.” His voice was soft, but it was enough
for Sheera to put pieces together to explain the odd day that they had all
shared. She put out her arm and pulled him closer to her, in a half hug, for
comfort.
“So, will he be alright now?”
Sheera shook her head slightly, “He just took a dose, and it won’t be out of
his system for about two more days.”
Rezule could tell by her voice that he was not getting the whole story. She was
leaving things out and it almost let lose the smoldering enragement within him.
“What are you not telling me?” His blues eyes were fixed on hers, and Sheera
could have gasped with the vibrancy of the blue, even in the faint fire light.
“He will begin to experience liver failure, and I will treat him as well as I
can with what I brought with me and with what I can find, but this journey will
be hard for him. And now, with him not himself we are an easier target for
whoever may be pursuing you. I have no battle training, and without the drug
Shale will not have his usual instincts and reflexes to fight effectively. Our
little journey is under the guardianship now, of the one we are supposed to be
protecting.”
Rezule rose, his face blank and eyes shadowed. “We have a long journey ahead of
us then, it seems, wake me when it is my turn to take watch.”
Sheera watched him retreat to his bedroll, the silence returning once more to
their little company.
***
The faded light of early dawn awoke Shale. That, and the pounding of his head
and the thick copper taste that coated his mouth. As he began to sit up, he
felt a sharp pain in his gut, and his limbs felt like leaded weights, that had
nothing to do from their long ride the day before. As he cracked open his eyes
against the rising of dawn, his vision was immediately filled with swirling
sapphire.
Rezule crouched in the snow next to his bedroll, the younger man’s eyes
studying him intently, like a curious cat, with a worrying scrunch of his
brows.
“How are you feeling?”
“Like a bag of dandelions, how about you?” Shale croaked, and tried to pull off
a playful grin. He could tell by the other man’s face that he wasn’t buying it.
An arm went under his for support and he was almost completely lifted up, his
legs not cooperating to perform the task of standing.
Sheera must have told him everything, Shale thought, by the tenderness in the
young man’s touch as he supported the captain to the log and when he began to
pack up the captains things. Shale went to protest but knew that he did not
have the strength to perform the most simple of tasks that morning, and his
head pounded against his temples. He had known better that to fall asleep under
the effects of the drug, and now suffered the consequences. He remembered quite
lucidly, Sheera leading him back to camp, and the worry brimmed glacier eyes of
Rezule. The drug did not allow for his mind or body to res properly, and he
felt as though he had been awake for days.
Shale had been lost in his thoughts, until arms wrapped themselves around him
in a warm hug. The embrace didn’t crack his thinning composure, until a soft,
hesitant kiss was placed on his temple. Tears of shame streaked down his
cheeks, and the tightening of Rezule’s embrace sent his body into a series of
racking sobs. His hands grasped with what little strength he had onto the front
of Rezule’s cloak and he buried his face into the crook of his neck. A wailing
noise tore through him. Never had he felt his emotions been drawn so violently
out of him. Never had he experienced such deplorable regret of his actions and
the fate that lead to them. His anguished cries turned back into sobs ad then
his sobs into coughs. The taste of copper reached his tongue and coated his
lips,. Rezule took the edge of his cloak and removed the small bit of blood
from the corner of Shale’s mouth.
“Lets, get you mounted, the sooner we reach the mountain, the sooner we can
rest.”
The captain nodded, letting Shale give him a leg up onto his bay stallion. He
noticed all of his stuff was packed and Sheera was already on her snow white
mare.
Knowing she must have packed made Shale clench his hands tight around the
reins. He felt so useless, but the wiser part of him knew that he must accept
the help.
He was drawn away from this direction of thought, by a soft hand on his knee.
He looked to Rezule, and found comfort in the young face and aged eyes.
***** Crimson *****
The crisp morning air was filled with delicately placed words. The voices were
slightly hushed, but a sheet of playfulness wrapped around their conversation,
covering the morose undertone, like a blanket fort for an unsettled child. The
two men rode side by side, one on a large dark bay stallion and the other on a
smaller dark grey mare. The delicately carved ears of the mare were tilted
backwards, listening to her gentle rider, the borough of his southern speech a
much needed comfort after being taken by the northern soldiers.
“So what was it like to grow up in the Northern Mountains if you do not have a
king?”
Shale gave a strange look to Rezule’s question, “I suppose not that much
different to if we had a king. The Spirit Bear Temples are what we warship
instead, and our military is still very important to our everyday lives,
although, from what I have gathered from interacting with your people, your
culture is very different from ours.”
Rezule gave some thought to Shale’s words, his held tilted slightly in
introspection for a moment. “Were you a happy child?”
The words startled Shale a bit, mostly from their boldness in a divergence of
the topic. He watched the darker haired man, waiting to find a bit of
explanation from where the question came from, but the blue eyes never turned
to meet him. “I suppose I was. I lost both of my parents to an avalanche when I
was five, which was deeply upsetting, but Commander Lark’s family took me in.
The aspect of having a brother and playmate quickly dulled my grief for the
loss of my parents. I don’t remember their faces, but I am told I am the
spitting image of my father,” Shale studied Rezule’s face, as it now faced him
with polite attention, drawn in by the tale of his past. “Do you look like your
father, Rezule?”
The pallor of the young man’s face visibly drained of colour, and his voice was
tight when he spoke, “No... I take after my mother.”
“Oh...” Shale stalled, not knowing how to rid the air of the tension that his
question seemed to have engendered. “So it was your mother, then, who gave you
those glimmering mountain pools for eyes?”
Instead of melting the taunt cords beneath Rezule’s flesh, like the compliment
was intended, it wound him even tighter. Years of schooling the feeling of this
subject to not bother him, portrayed an unmoved figure in other’s eyes. Shale
saw the switch though. From the slightly agitated Rezule, to the man now before
him; dead eyed and with as much expression as a slate tablet.
“Neither of my parents had blue eyes.” His tone was flat, and his words were
stiff.
Sheera turned in her saddle to look at him, her brow furrowed, “That is
strange, did you have any family members that had blue eyes?”
“None that I have ever met, and my parents never mentioned one. I always
assumed I was a bastard child, but we lived in a secluded village and none have
ever seen eyes my colour, save on a horse or a dog. As well, my mother... She
always protested that she had remained faithful to my father, and that she
loved him.”
Rezule visibly relaxed, but a haze of melancholy surrounded him when he
mentioned his mother. “And I also know that she stressed about telling the
truth until the day she died.” His throat constricted on his last few words,
but the others didn’t react. He didn’t know why he confided so much in these
people, but the sad look in Shale’s eyes and the way that Sheera’s gentle voice
kept asking him questions made him want to tell them. Irrational as that was.
“Come to think of it,” Sheera looked him straight in the eye, calculating,
studying. “I’ve never seen quite the same colour on anybody else.”
“Neither have I,” put in Shale.
“Nobody has, I guess.” Rezule cut a bit sharply, done with the conversation
now, irritation crawling swiftly up his spine.
“We are finally within the forest of Rayca,” Shale said, eyes wandering around
the surrounding trees and satisfied once he saw Rezule take a deep breath and
relax.
“Why thank you captain, I’m glad one of us felt the need to share the obvious.”
Sheera said. Rezule was then able to watch in amusement as Shale puffed out his
chest a bit and straightened his position on his horse.
“ Sarcasm, is the lowest form of wit, and I dare say, Rezule probably has never
come this far north and appreciated my announcement of our location.” At this,
the captain looked to Rezule, green eyes pleading for back up, but Sheera was
too quick.
“We’ve been traveling in this forest for the last day and a half, I’m not an
idiot Shale.”
A gusty fit of laughter erupted from the dark hair man, making him appear as
more of the boy he should have been.
***
The terrain had begun to grow rocky by the time dusk rolled over the tree tops.
The mountains could just be seen, peaking from behind the soft wisps of white,
their snowy peaks a mighty sight to Rezule. He had lived within the shadows of
these mountains all his life and had only been this close to them when on
training camp scouting missions or survival training. He felt an excited buzz
at seeing the great forces of nature towering up into the sky, knowing that
they travelled closer to them each day.
“Shall we set up camp here for he night?” Sheera motioned toward a flat space
off the path where the cover of the trees had not let too much snow gather.
“What a grand idea, if it were possible to be sick of riding, then I would be.”
Shale replied a bit tiredly. Rezule had noticed his fatigue drastically
increase after they had stopped for a light lunch, guessing it was an effect of
the drug that plagued him. Worry swirled in his gut.
Shale dismounted from his stallion, but staggered on the landing, his head
swimming and he felt one of his knees buckle as his vision blurred. Rezule
scrambled to catch him, but was shoved off once the captain regained his
footing.
“I’m fine Rezule.”
The words weren't sharp, in fact, they were said quite gently, but the
rejection for help still stung, and Rezule kept a watchful eye on Shale as the
readied camp and untacked and brushed the horses.
Sheera had cleared a good inch of snow off of a good sitting log and sat down
rummaging through her back.
“Well boys, venison and nuts it is again tonight--”
“I’m going hunting,” Shale announced, already untying his bow and quiver from
his saddle that was rested against the trunk of a small tree.
Rezule expected to here an opposing response from the healer, but she was
silent. Her face was cast down and she just continued to rummage and remove
food from her bag.
Shale also didn’t say anything as he headed off into the trees, his dark grey
cloak disappearing into the dusky shadows of the dyeing light.
Sheera’s worried words reached Rezule as he watched Shale go,“Please follow
him.”
Rezule dropped his saddle bags and quickly followed the tracks in the snow, not
looking back.
 
It didn’t take him long to catch up to the grey cloaked figure in the dying
light. Shale’s head hung a bit, and Rezule could see the movement of his
shoulders made by his labored breath. When he heard Rezule’s approach he
stopped. Rezule stopped a few feet behind him.
“You didn’t come out here to hunt, did you?”
Shale turned to face him.
“Were you hoping for fresh meat tonight?” his voice was filled with a dark
mirth that Rezule had never heard him use before.
“Are you going to take more of the drug?”
“No, Sheera destroyed what I had left. At this point it would probably to more
bad than good,” his voice stuck on the last words, and then sent him into a
coughing fit. Rezule quickly stepped to his side, unsure of himself around this
somber version of Shale. He placed his hands on the man’s shoulders, steadying
him as he leaned forward.
When Shale’s coughing stopped he looked up at Rezule, blood tinting his lips a
gruesome red. Their faces were close together, their breath’s visible between
them, smoky and mingling in the crisp air. Each breathing in the other’s
breaths. Blue eyes bore into watery green ones, and Shale saw all the missed
youth and pain the young man had already been through. Those glacier eyes
reflected worry, and a sorrow so deep it ached in Shale’s already aching chest.
They were tragically beautiful, the colour like a deep blue pool with frozen
twisted caverns that went to unknown places and held unknown secrets. Emotions
swirled inside of Shale, and he kissed Rezule on the brow, just a little up
from directly between those enchanting eyes. The other man leaned into his lips
and closed his eyes before releasing a big breath.
Rezule wrapped his arms around Shale’s neck, and when the man removed his lips
from his forehead, he buried his face into the crook of his neck; hiding inside
of the hood of his cloak.
Shale’s arms came around him and they held each other closer, chest to chest,
and hip to hip. He felt a shudder rip through the man in his arms, and then a
sob was ripped from his lips. Shale stood rigid and shocked.
Rezule had displayed this kind of vulnerable emotion his first days in the
camp, but right now the man was near hysterics. His chest heaved in sporadic
bursts of air inside the circle of Shale’s arms, and he buried his face tighter
into Shale’s shoulder. His hands seemed to be desperately clinging to him,
clawing his dark grey cloak and holding it in tight fists. Shale tried to get
him to calm down, rubbing his back in a steady rhythm, but it just seemed to
get Rezule more worked up, until he finally ripped himself out of Shale’s grasp
and took a couple steps away. His face steamed from his hot tears, eyes red
rimmed, and a deep red smudge of blood in the middle of his brow that was
direct evidence of Shale’s lips.
“I don’t...” A gasping breath escaped Rezule, “I don’t...,” more tears streamed
down his face, the tracks creating a visible sheen of the pathways that the
salted water took down his skin.
“Why...?” He choked out more words that Shale couldn’t decipher, then quickly
turned and his fist flew into the trunk of a tree.
“Hey, now,” Shale said calmly, stepping between Rezule and the tree, catching
his other hand before it bruised itself on the innocent, but very solid, bark.
“It’s not fair,” the dark haired man choked out, the side of his fist gently
pounded on Shale’s chest.
Shale remove his bloodied gloves and tossed them to the snow, placing his clean
hands on each side of Rezule’s face, wiping his cheeks with his thumbs.
“What’s not fair Rezule?” Shale inquired a bit panicked.
Blue eyes met his, and Shale saw the expression of deep sorrow and the
contortion of frustration and anger on Rezule’s face.
“Everyone...” a sob shook his shoulders, “everyone I’ve ever been close to has
left me.”
“I’m not leaving, I will never leave you,” Shale brought Rezule’s face close to
his as he said the words.
“But all the blood-”
“It’s just blood Rezule,” Shale berated him gently, as his licked his thumb and
rubbed at the crimson mark on Rezule’s brown before wiping it away with the
edge of his sleeve, “You can’t tell me such a brave, hardened, Cayphaellian
soldier such as yourself is afraid of a little blood, hhmm?”
Despite himself and the foolishness of Shale’s words, Rezule felt his lips
tighten into a small smile. It’s not the blood, I’m mostly afraid that I love
you, but he didn’t say it out loud. The spirit bear warrior wore a playful
expression, his green eyes full of a luster that he hadn’t seen in days, and a
blonde eyebrow arched.
“There we go, new I could bring you back around, but I’ve got something even
better,” Shale’s words held his infectious tone of playfulness, but Rezule just
watched the man silently, as he took of his sword belt and held it out flat to
Rezule, one hand on the pommel and the other on the part of the scabbard
concealing the blade. Confusion etched across Rezule’s face.
“Take it.” Shale said, bobbing his sword a bit.
“What?”
“Did I stutter? I said take it,”
Rezule was glad that Shale had his devil-may-care attitude back, that hadn’t
been with him the last two days, but he was sure that whatever was in that drug
had completely messed with his logic.
“I haven’t lost my mind,” the look that Rezule had given Shale was enough for
the blonde warrior to guess at his doubts, and he continued. “Look, the drug
has made me weak and I’m only going to get worse until we reach the pass.
Sheera doesn’t carry a weapon and if worst comes to worse I can always use my
bow to block an attack, it’s light enough for me to lift if my strength truly
begins to fade. I need you to take this,” again he bobbed his sword towards
Rezule. “So that if we are attacked, you can defend yourself and Sheera to the
best of your ability.”
Rezule just stared at him stunned. Sword gifting was unheard of in Cayphaellian
history, but it was inside of a couple epic stories that some told around the
campfire. A sword was just a sword, until it was given a name, a recognized
name within the army, and only came with lieutenant status or higher. If the
sword was lost or broken, it’s name became untrustworthy and a new sword was
made. If a sword was given away, especially to someone of lower rank, their
life and soul went with that sword to protect that person. And that is exactly
what Shale was proposing.
“I- I-” Rezule swallowed, stunned. “I cannot accept,” he protested, and put his
hands up in a gesture to further their distance from the sword.
“Rezule,” The command was loud, and rung through Rezule’s entire being, an
effect from years of training. Shale’s voice hadn’t been loud, but it held the
authority of a superior, of a captain. “You will take this sword, and by life,
soul and name it will protect you, as you are charged with protecting yourself
and those who are in need.” Then Shale withdrew the sword and placed it in his
upturned palms on top of the scabbard. “I give you Vockeroth, may it serve you
well.”
Rezule lifted the blade, his one hand on the dark leather bound handle, being
swallowed by the carving of a bear onto the hilt. The rest of the hilt traveled
in a gentle curve downward on both sides, the blade coming forth from the
middle. It was a two handed long sword, heavy and well used, but beautifully
crafted and well looked after. There was intricate detail in a carving on the
blade, tapering out in the middle. The carving held horses and bears, all in a
tumult of chaotic swirls and artistic interpretations of leaves. The detail was
stunning.
Rezule grabbed the simple leather scabbard and sheathed the sword, then buckled
it onto his waist. Both men stood in silence for a while, until Shale pointed
back to camp, at a orange glow leaking through the trees.
“Sheera has started the campfire without us. Come, let us eat and then sleep.”
Shale led the way back to camp, and that evening, Rezule’s bedroll lay right
next to the captain’s.
***** Ethereal *****
The man’s dark blue robes billowed behind him, diaphanous against the back drop
of the grey stone walls that towered, and then peaked, in pointed arches at the
ceiling of the epic corridor. The man’s tall stature was insignificant to the
ancient architectural majesty that surrounded him; his running figure, a mere
spec against the sheer scope of the keep. His rushed footsteps echoed against
the aged stone, making his haste known to those in near rooms and the parallel
corridors.
The man reached the doors of the library. They were a mighty sight. Made of a
wood so dark and lustrous that it was argued over what tree could have produced
it, and it’s surface was carved by a nimble fingered artist of near magical
ability. Creatures of the forest swirled in a pattern as if dancing with each
other. Wolves and deer, foxes and rabbits, even the mice were included, their
tiny carved feet and whiskers so dainty and defined that they seemed to scurry
across the wooden surface. The strangest of all the carvings were of the
creatures that had no name. There were small ones, like the depiction of tiny
children that danced with wolves and appeared to be half wolf themselves, or
the picture of the winged people with jewels, feathers, and leaves within their
hair. There were also the mighty ones, horses with grand and powerful eagle
wings, and the bears. The bears were beautiful. They covered the center of the
doors, their dance coming to a circle in the direct center. In that center lay
the handles. They were brass, and very old, but of such fine workman ship and
historical value that they were polished with the utmost care and thus gleamed
invitingly, when the man reached for it and pulled the door open.
His old, frail shoulders heaved, the hinges letting out a mighty groan of
effort with him. The man opened the door for him to just slip through, his need
for haste evident in his panicked breath and brief glance at the bears on the
door.
The Library was another sight to behold, but his eyes only fell to the group of
students gathered at the end of one of the great shelves. Whispers of,“Oh,
thank The Bear, Goudron is hear,” rippled through the crowd, letting out
breaths of relief of the students gathered. One of the head students, Ausa, a
nineteen year old, with dark brown, gentle eyes, was sat in the center of the
crowd. Before him lay Elody of auburn hair and freckled cheeks, her shoulders
being held down by him. Her eyes were a strange flat white with no veins, like
porcelain had replaced the organs, and her limbs twitched wildly, like she was
fighting off an invisible foe.
Goudron rushed to her, thanking Ausa as he replaced him at her head, but
instead of holding her shoulders he placed her head upon his lap and his
fingers to her temples. Instantly she stilled, but her eyes remained open, eery
and unblinking. The old man gently eased himself into her magic, a jumble of
images and emotions, memories that were not her own. The vision was like
burning darkness, and filled with the scent of singed flesh. His ears were
bombarded by the screech of a tortured child, nearly overwhelming him, until he
saw blue. The blue was like cool ice to the heavy red of the fire the raged
through the rest of the vision and with that blue the colour was combined with
green and exploded into an array of light that covered the darkness. The light
swirled into a vision of the blue sky and the green forest, the fingers of the
trees stretching for eternity on an endless sapphire blue. But the child’s
scream did not stop.
The forest became a sudden blur, but there were flashes of clarity. There were
three riders, then it switched to a sharp rush of pain, and screaming. There
was a cry that cut through the vision, one of sorrow, that quickly ascended to
a boiling rage. The power once felt before was now tenfold; overwhelming and
striking fear into Gaudron with a wicked blow.
Gaudron broke from the vision, just as Elody did. She sat up startled, her eyes
returning to their normal green, save the red rimming and puffiness that still
clung to her eyelids. Gaudron gently sat her up.
“What else did you see before I got here, Elody?” his voice trying to hide his
worry. The vision was vauge by the time he had gotten there but the anger that
came with it was enough to scare even him, he couldn’t imagine what having
experienced something like this at such a tender age, would do to a young
creature like Elody.
In response, her words were a choked out sob, “It was- it was horrible,” and
the tears began to stream freely down her face.
One glance from Gaudron and Ausa was shooing the remaining students away and
back to their business in the library, their curiosity peaked by the event.
Gaudron stood Elody up, her pale hands made even more white by her tight
clutching of the sleeves of his robes.
“Ausa, run a message to Aldric to meet me in my office, let him know that Elody
had another vision.”
The boy ran off immediately, leaving Gaudron to guide Elody to his office. He
had just managed to calm the girl down and make her some tea, when Aldric
arrived with a soft knock at his door. He opened to a figure of opposing
stature, one that stood tall with broad shoulders and wore robes black as
pitch. His hair and neatly groomed beard were of the same colour, showing his
southern heritage. It was said that his father was from the South but much of
his dark past remained shrouded in secrecy and that even the High Order was
unaware of most of it.
“Gaudron,” his deep voice filled the office, and he bowed a respectful head nod
towards the older man.
“Please, come in, come in. Would you like some tea?” Gaudron motioned Aldric
towards a comfortable chair beside Elody.
“No, it is quite all right,” he said gently as he sat down, his eyes now on
Elody, studying her with an intense amber gaze. “Elody,” She didn’t register
that he had said her name, her eyes unfocused toward the floor and hands
shaking around her tea cup. His hand reached out and tilted her chin towards
him, and Gaudron watched as the sixteen year old’s face blushed from the bottom
up. Aldric was not a young man, the peppering of white against his temples and
beard attesting to his forty winters, but he was rather dashing. Gaudron had
seen the way his looks effected the women within the keep, the way the
silhouette of his strong jaw and straight nose made the girls turn their heads.
Aldric let go of her chin as soon as she looked at him. He was graced with
looks as well as tact. “What was your vision of Elody?”
Her bottom lip trembled but her gaze was steady.
“It was so unclear, I don’t really know. All I saw was three figures and then
there was this anger. It was so strong and seemed to be coming straight for the
keep, I fear that is it’s goal,” tears were back in her eyes by the time she
was done.
Aldric gave her a nod, and raised his hands slowly, “I’m just going to take a
peak, Elody. Remember, concentrate with your magic on bringing the vision to
the front of your mind.”
Gaudron watched as she nodded and closed her eyes as Aldric placed his fingers
on her temples. Both of them had their eyes closed, deathly still with shallow
breaths as they experienced the vision. Gaudron knew what Aldric would see
.
When the black clad man withdrew from the vision, his face was grave, but he
comforted the sobbing Elody with a hand on her shoulder and back, helping her
out of the chair and guiding her towards the door. “I asked Ausa to wait
outside, he will take you back to your room,” he said, his voice gentle, and
not betraying the sliver of panic that Gaudron could see in his eyes.
Once Elody was out of the room, and had shut the doors behind her, Aldric
turned to Gaudron, his voice acidly void of emotion.
“We must call a meeting of the Dark Order and High Order at once. Something
with that much wrath must be eliminated before it can reach the keep.”
 
******
 
The forest was beginning to thin as the small traveling party reached the base
of the adolescent mountains, hills of rock peaking out from the trees. A shiver
ran down Rezule’s spine as they continued, climbing higher and higher into the
range. Wicka became restless beneath him, her ears twitched continuously, and
her neck would tighten and arch as if started. The other horses also seemed a
bit disgruntled. Shale’s stallion, Bur, would often jog, and through his head,
while Sheera’s little cremello mare would shy away from the simplest things,
like different coloured brambles that peaked through the snow.
“We’re nearing wolf country,” said Shale, his voice calm, but Rezule watched
him as he scanned the surrounding rock and trees.
“I’ve never been this far north,” Rezule commented dryly, and nobody in his
country had, not since the first Great War. “They say the wolf people live in
endless tunnels under the mountain, and feed on human fle-”
“Ha!” Shale interrupted, “I may have a bit of a fright against a pack of wolves
but wolf people do not exist, and even if they did, are they not the size of
children? You’re world is full of such strange mythology,” Shale began, but
stopped. No wonder they were so afraid of his blue eyes. The people who raised
him were ignorant to magic and their interaction with the world seemed to be
stemmed upon fear. Shale couldn’t even begin to wonder how he would have turned
out if in Rezule’s place. Much colder and scarred, I would imagine, he thought
to himself.
 
Sheera’s horse suddenly stopped, spooking a bit and shying to the side. She
threw her head up, almost clocking Sheera in the face with her neck. The mare’s
blue eyes were wide with fear, the whites around the blue even more visible.
Sheera stroked her neck calming her, as the mare settled. This was not the
first time the mare had behaved this way, but it was the most violent reaction
they had seen.
The mare walked on though, and they continued on their set course, moving onto
a path that wrapped itself around the side of a mountain to bypass the Valley
of the Whites.
Their journey was silent, each with their own fears and attempts to calm their
horses. Shale would send Rezule a few looks of worry every time the
Cayphaellian soldier shortened his reins, either holding back his mare from her
signs of flight, or to reduce the bone white tightening of his fists around the
leather reins.
The trail got steeper and steeper as they traveled; the face of the mountain on
one side, and a sheer drop into a white forest below. They were careful to
avoid ice, but the little rocks that escaped the horses feet that clattered
down made Rezule balk. He was trained to face anything, blood and gore,
torture. But this mountain path had him trembling in his boots, the only
comfort was Shale’s soft gaze and the horses calming down as they moved further
onto the mountain pass. However, that was short lived.
They walked into a thick mist, painting the world white, a blank canvas with
the snow that covered the ground. A howl ripped through the peaks that
surrounded them, sending the horses skittering dangerously. It echoed, the
horses blowing snorts and rolling their eyes, not able to pin point where it
was coming from.
Rezule put his hand on Shale’s sword, the hilt comforting in his hand, but the
responding howls from the first call made his breath ragged, and a cold sweat
run down his back beneath his warm cloak.
He had never been afraid of wild life. Living in a secluded village had him
spending most of his childhood in the surrounding forest and he had seen and
interacted with all like of creatures from wolves to woodpeckers. But the howls
that reverberated around them did not sound like wolves. They sounded
sometimes, more human like, making the calls imagined as if from a strange
yowling creature; the sound unnatural, ethereal, as if it didn’t belong in a
peaceful forest.
The path began to narrow, and the cacophony of calls began to dim. The change
in terrain made them travel single file, Sheera in the lead with Shale behind
Rezule. Their horses settled, but Wicka’s ears continued to twitch.
Rezule turned around with a wicked grin on his face, knowing that what had just
occurred had scared the hell out of all of them.
“Still don’t believe in wolf people?”
Shales eyes lifted to meet the chastising blue ones. He opened his mouth, to
express his mirth, when there was a loud crack beneath him. Bur dropped first,
his black mane lifting up against gravity, and then all Shale saw was white,
and the twisting gut retching spiral of a free fall. The mountain swallowing
him whole.
***** Blood *****
Rezule felt himself enter a strange emotionless state when it happened. His
body went numb, and if it weren’t for Sheera’s yells and his mare’s reaction to
the impending danger, he would have stood frozen.
As the path fell away from underneath Bur’s feet, crumbles of rock and snow
following after the pair engulfed by the fog, the ethereal howls returned. The
level of visibility had cleared a bit, but only enough for the horses to see
the shadows that lurked on the rock above them. All Rezule saw was the image of
Shale’s wide green eyes as he disappeared into the depth of white.
Sheera kicked her horse onward as hunks of stone and ice fell from above. Wicka
launched forward, herd instincts taking over when there was no instruction from
her rider, her head low and hooves scrambling. The howls rose in volume, and
gushes of snow came with the falling debris.
Something slammed into the side of Rezule’s head, bringing his mind back to
focus, his hands shortening on the reins, helping Wicka navigate the path as it
got steeper. Blood dripped and stung his eyes, causing him to squint and grab a
hold of Wicka’s mane with one hand, having no other option but to trust his
mare to keep her feet underneath her.
Sheera took a path that went sharply up, ditching the path next to the daunting
valley, but the new one looked impossibly steep. Rezule barely saw it through
his red glazed eyes. The horses puffed and groaned up the path. Haunches
bunching and eyes swinging wild in their panic.
Rezule barely noticed when they burst from the rocky path and plunged into the
cover of thick pine trees, finally on flat ground. The white mist immediately
lifted from around them, and they could see a blue sky between the coniferous
boughs, but the fog remained behind like a white curtain around the rocks,
rippling with distant, ever fading, howls.
Sheera whoa’d her mount, the mare gently slowing, breath heaving but eyes soft,
and her ears set back in a relaxed position. Sheera herself was panting, and
Rezule clearly saw each white puff of breath as she turned in the saddle a
looked at him.
He didn’t look her in the eyes but he knew what was in them. It was the sorrow,
but perhaps not the same kind or as deep, as the one he felt tearing through
his chest. It was a marvel, he had always thought, how loss felt so akin to
fear. It gave him the same lurch in his insides, as if they had been shredded
and there was a building pressure, that threatened to bring them up his throat
until he was forced to vomit them through his teeth.
Rezule hadn’t even noticed the horses had stopped and Sheera had her hands on
his leg, shaking it.
“Rezule. Rezule, get off your horse, I need to look at your head wound.” Her
voice wasn’t as tight as he thought it would be, just a little wispy. Sheera
held her emotions well. All he could manage was a gurgled grunt in response as
he removed his feet from the stirrups and slowly slid to the ground. He held
onto his mare’s mane for support with one hand as Sheera wiped away the blood
on his face with her sleeve. He barely noticed her going to her saddle bags and
she didn’t bother asking him to sit down, she took his arm that was clinging to
Wicka and guided him to a nearby fallen tree.
 Water trickled down his face as she cleaned the wound. Rezule barely felt the
sting, but the water that dripped into his hands were like cold tears, mocking
the burning he felt behind his eyes, the consequence of the barrier he had
tried to build to bury his emotions and confusion.
“He might not be gone, you know.”
And the walls broke.
Rezule’s breath came in gasps as he drowned in the grief that gripped his
throat. He felt the odd soothing sensation of the tears against his burning
eyes before they began to throb.
A gentle face came before his, tawny eyes, red rimmed and crying with him.
Sheera cupped his face in both of her hands, and brushed his tears off his
cheeks with her thumbs.
“Let it out, young one, breathe,” her voice soothing as a mothers, and Rezule
buried his face into the white robes of her shoulder, his hands gripping her
arms like a life line, as they wrapped around him. He sobbed like he hadn’t
sobbed since his father told him his mother was dead.
***
Shale first became aware of the searing pain in his left leg. It felt like a
creature was gnawing on it, and his head swam with noises he didn’t understand,
as if a large beast beside him, breathing in gurgles and gasps. But form where?
He had no recollection of it before. Fear caused his eyes to shoot open, but
his wit was still about him and he remained still as the fallen snow. His
vision was blurry, the low light still blinding him and stinging his eyes. It
didn’t help that the environment around him was all in shades of white and
grey. It slowly sharpened to reveal the rocks and the high obsidian walls of an
icy canyon.
He felt for the hilt of his dagger as his belt, trying to move as little as
possible. The creature’s noises behind him had not changed, but they sounded
like something quite large. Was it a bear? A wolf? What was it eating? Where
was he and what happened?
Shale tried to pump his brain for the information, but the last thing he
remembered were the wolf howls in the trees. Wrapping his hand tightly around
the hilt of his dagger, he drew it fast and sat up as quick as he could to face
the beast.
Sorrow took the breathe from his lungs.
Bur lay in the snow, his legs a crumpled mess underneath, and the white snow
around him an ombre of pink and red. The flesh on his neck quivered with sweat,
and his heaving breathes sent tendrils of blood out of his nostrils. His head
swiveled towards Shale’s movement, the bridle jingling in sick joy.
“Oh, my dear boy,” Shale breathed, his voice a calming murmur. Bur nickered a
bit, and his ears flickered towards.
Shale tried to stand, but the pain in his leg wouldn’t let him. He slowly
crawled over to Bur, laying a hand on the sweaty neck of his dying steed. The
stallion calmed under his touch, and as if he felt safe now or simply had no
energy left, and lay his regally sculpted head in the snow.
With cold, numb fingers Shale managed to get the buckles of the bridle undone,
and gently lifted it over Bur’s ears and slide it off his face. The stallion
chewed as the bit was removed from his mouth. His once lovely brown eyes were
milky and now barely registered Shale’s movements.
Shale took his dagger and cut the girth, then pushed the loosened saddle off of
Bur’s back as gently as he could manage. The rise and fall of Bur’s barrel was
erratic and as he rubbed the horses back, the familiarity and comfort that came
to him from his hands on the horseflesh brought water to his eyes. He held the
dagger more firmly in his hand and made sure the blade was between the ribs,
aimed at the heart. He began to whisper a old prayer, one he had learned and
recited at the funerals of his fellow warriors.
“Do mo deartháireacha beidh mé a chosaint agus do mo dheartháireacha beidh mé
bás . Is féidir leis an spiorad a chur orainn ar shiúl ach deartháireacha
againn fós . Rugadh againn faoin spéir céanna , throid , agus theip faoi don
ghrian céanna . Taisteal Aonach , deartháir , is féidir linn a bheith
deartháireacha arís, “ and drove the blade deep. The stallion inhaled with a
quiet squeal, and with his exhale, relaxed, and was gone.
Shale murmured another prayer and placed the stallion’s broken legs as best as
he could into a normal position. The stallion now looked like he was sleeping,
and free to dream about running in the wind.
***
Rezule’s eyes stung when he rubbed them, and his head throbbed from the crying
and the blow that the falling rock had delt him some hours before. Sheera had
said they were only a few hours from the ridge, but she had left to find some
fire wood so that they could rest the horses, and settle their minds. He was
brushing Wicka, letting the smell and warmth of her pelt calm him and trying
not to think about Shale. But the more he tried not to, the more he thought
about it and the more frustrated he became.
It was always him that brought misfortune, to himself and others. He tried so
hard to know what was right and what was wrong. To try to see good when their
was barely any. He had finally found someone to love again and the world had
taken it away. And now, without Shale as proof that he was a healer, they would
most likely torture him for information. Sheera would vouch for him but he
could tell from her expression that she probably had little sway within the
Dark Order.
He stopped brushing Wicka, and moved to put the brush in his saddle bags. His
anger burning in his chest. There was the sound of footfalls, Sheera’s return,
but he found he couldn’t calm himself down.
“Rezule,” her voice was cautious. The soldier slowly turned around, and she
dropped the fire wood she was holding. “Your eyes are glowing.”
He was momentarily confused, and that seemed to dampen the red hot streaks
inside him for a moment but then there was the twang of a bow string and Rezule
looked to find an arrow embedded straight threw his shoulder.
Sheera gasped but was whisked out of sight by the figures in black and blue
robes that quickly surrounded Rezule. It was if they had come from the trees,
and his mind raced about how he couldn't tell they were there. How he didn’t
know of their presence until that arrow ripped threw his flesh.
“Stand down Southerner,” Yelled one of the black robed figures.
Rezule felt something curl within his chest, that tight coil of rage, and it
seethed up threw his throat. He growled, and took a step forward.
 A blistering pain tore threw Rezule’s thigh and he looked down to see another
arrow, with a rope attached to the end of it. He wondered if the one in his
shoulder was the same. They were trying to detain him?
“I said stand down!”
Something more akin to a roar left his throat. The ropes on the arrows snapped
tight. He didn’t know what was going on, he didn’t know what was happening to
him. The pain was enough for him to want to stand down but something raged
within him and told him to fight.
Their were more arrows, more ropes, and more blood than sweat dripped onto the
snow.
***
Sheera struggled in the arms of one of the blue robed soldiers, screaming for
them to stop. She could see Rezule losing himself, his eyes wild and his teeth
bared. His eyes were blazing, no longer a natural shade of blue they glowed
with ethereal light until his pupil was no longer visible.
Another arrow hit his other shoulder, the squelching sound of ripped tissue and
spurting blood burning in Sheera’s ears, almost louder than the pained and
enraged cry that Rezule burst with. It nearly shook the mountain.
The ones in blue robes looked unsettled, their faces etched in worry. The one
holding Sheera turned her away and covered her ears.
“Close your eyes Healer.” His voice was soft and calm, but his eyes were wide
and his face pale.
***
Aldric saw a wave of uncertainty and fear go through his ranks. The blue clad,
high order soldiers, nearly shook in their robes and he watched with distaste
as one sheathed his sword and retreated to the trees. They never did have the
stomach.
Despite the difficulty, his soldiers held tightly to the ropes as the creature
thrashed before them. It was more like some sort of beast now; long black beast
nails had replaced the soft human ones, and the large canines that snapped and
ground could only belong to something wild. The animal needed to be put down.
Aldric drew his sword as the creature tired. It fell to it’s knees, blood
dripping and no longer spraying over the faces of his soldiers. His walk toward
it was slow, his mind wondering how something could have become so imbedded
with anger and saddled with this powerful, obviously uncontrollable, magic.
It choked on its own blood and he watched with fascination as the animal
characteristics retreated. The blue eyes were still softly glowing, but the
creature, who looked now like a common Cayphealian boy, was now writhing weakly
in pain, and gasping through mouthfuls of blood. It slowly collapsed on it’s
side, the tautness of the ropes and protruding arrows keeping him at an odd
angle.
Aldric reached him, and slowly knelt down. The boy looked at him with eyes that
he would have expected to be full of anger, or fear. What he saw was relief,
and it struck him to the bone. How could one so young be relieved to relinquish
their life? After the fight that he had just put up, Aldric expected one last
violent outburst. But it seemed that the boy had given up. He lay limp in the
blood sloshed puddle in the snow.
Aldric placed a gentle hand on the boy’s head. “Why do you wish to go so soon,
little one.”
The voice was a gurgled whisper. “Because he’s gone.”
Aldric moved his hand to the cheek of the boy wiping away the tears. “Who’s
gone?”
He wish he could have taken back those words. The anguish that ripped across
the young man’s features, left his heart tight in his chest. How could one so
young have suffered so much?
He efficiently moved his sword and angled it to the boy’s heart. “You’ll be
with him soon”. And drove the blade clean through his chest.
***** Chapter 15 *****
Shale had never killed an animal before. He’d hunted many times, but always
with a bow or a trap for the small ones. He had been far away from their fight
for life, and was blinded from their pain for his necessity for food.
 
Bur’s death had shaken him, to the point where he now sat on a rock some ways
down the narrow valley, away from the stallion’s body. He now remembered how
they had gotten there. The crack of rock like the sound of a split in reality.
And Rezule’s face. Flush with excitement and enjoyment, smiling so big there
was the slightest detection of crows feet at the corner of those amazing eyes.
Shale was glad he never saw his face when he was sucked into the abyss.
 
The rock he sat on helped the cold seep through his breeches and into his
bones. He had been trying to find something that fashioned into a walking
stick, or even splint his leg, but all that was down there was rocks and brush.
He had managed to walk this far; to rid himself of the smell of the horse’s
blood, by leaning on the cliff wall and hobbling.
 
The silence of the valley was getting to his nerves. Every clink of a fallen
rock had him as jumpy as a doe, and the wind sometimes carried whispers. Shale
figured he had hit his head hard in the fall and tried to take no notice of his
nerves.
 
Without realizing when he had passed out, he woke up a second time flat on his
back, half a step from the rock he had just been sitting on. He didn’t bother
getting up. His stomach hurt from hunger, his lungs burned from walking, and
his eyes stung from crying.
 
He had no idea how long it had been before he woke up after the fall from the
path, but knew that he had spent the remainder of the whole day hoping around
rocks, and he was done. He tried to sit up and his head swam. The pain in his
leg had dulled, and so did all the other aches in his body. He knew that wasn’t
good.
 
A cough escaped him and with it, came up blood. He was so sick of blood. Of the
smell, of the metallic taste that stuck on the back of his tongue, of the damn
colour. He rolled onto his side trying not to choke and more came out. A sharp
pain ripped into his side and he gasped, then nausea hit him like a rough slap
on the back. He puked, the dark maroon chunks and bright red crimson
splattering in a steaming river and flowing downhill, covering his hands and
knees with warmth.
 
No, this can’t be happening again. Not so soon, Shale’s thoughts spun and spun
around in his head. Confusion and understanding blurred as more blood came up,
so hot and acidic, that it felt like his throat was being skinned.
 
He knew this wasn’t from the fall. His liver was shutting down from the drug,
just like it did last time. A heavy sweat broke all over his body, and he could
feel the salt water dripping off the bridge of his nose as he tried to keep
from passing out. He was dying. There were no healers, no one to help. He knew
he would be dead within days, hopefully hours, possibly minutes. But he
couldn’t let go, he just couldn’t. Not until the darkness took him. And it did.
***
Aldric dusted the snow off of his robes as he stood up, his eyes locking onto
the target. The blast had sent every one reeling, flat on their backs, and had
thrown Aldric about twenty feet away from the boy. The trees around them had
broken branches, some of the smaller ones were completely flat. Green pine
needles riddled the snow, the crisp scent of sap mingling with the undertone of
copper.
 
His sword was nowhere to be seen, but Aldric felt his magic flicker up in
response to the attack, despite the fogginess in his head. It twisted in a
lithe way beneath his skin, daring to be let out, trying to sweet talk him. It
was eloquent as always, but he shushed it when he saw white robes burst from
the ranks and head straight for the source of the blast.
 
The healer had been the first to gather her wits. Aldric rushed after her. He
hoped she wouldn’t need to join the dark order after this ordeal.
 
He was surprised to see her with the boy half in her arms. He was conscious,
shivering, and stark naked. His wide eyes a magnificent, but earthly blue.
 
“What happened?” he managed to stammer out, his hands gripping the healers
robes like a life line.
 
“That is exactly what I would like to know,” replied Aldric. But his voice was
low and he said it more to himself. The boy didn’t have a mark on him, despite
the harpoons they had hooked him with, which were no where in sight. The only
evidence to the earlier conflict was the crimson that splattered the snow below
his feet.
 
The boy was completely lucid now. He was cold, but his eyes no longer had light
emanating from them, and his voice, while thick with the cayphaellian accent,
was a normal tinder.
 
Aldric watched his troops recover themselves, allowing the healer to be handed
a blanket for the boy to cover himself with. The healer stood the boy up, one
arm draped over her shoulders.
 
At this point the sound of approaching horses was herd by his men, and he
wasn’t surprised to see a captain whom he had left at the keep, quickly
approach him with fresh men behind him. The black robed captain dismounted
before his commander.
 
“We all saw and felt the blast from inside the walls, sir. Is no one injured?”
 
“I don’t believe so, but have the men gathered and return them to the keep. I
will see to the healer and the young man.”
 
His captain looked at him a bit confused, “Has the threat been extinguished
sire?”
“No. Yes. No- just go do something useful!”
 
Aldric didn’t want to snap at him, but the confusion of what had just occurred
had his mind a bit boggled.
 
As the captain scurried off to help the shaken troops collect their horses,
Aldric approached the healer, who, with the help of a blue robed soldier, had
the boy mounted on a small grey horse.
 
“What is your name healer?”
 
She turned to him, a look on her face as if she was ready for a fierce battle.
It immediately softened, but the burning in her golden eyes was still there.
Aldric assumed that she must have recognized him. “Sheera of the Eastern
Houses, sir.”
 
“Mount up, and bring the boy to the healing chambers. Place him in the charge
of Mica, and then meet me in Gaudron’s office. We have much that needs to be
discussed.”
 
“Yes, sir”
 
He turned from her and waved for one of the pages to bring him a horse. He
mounted, and rode back swiftly to the keep, the gears of his mind grinding
together in confusion and disbelief.
***
Gaudron just stared at Aldric once the commander of the dark order had finished
he recount of the events. It unnerved him a bit, how he could never tell what
the old blue robed man was thinking. He didn’t looked shocked, nor bored
just... pensive. As if the story he had just heard did not send his mind into
near scatters like it did Aldric’s. As if he would let the old coot know that.
 
Before his patience wore thin hoping for the faintest glimmer of a reaction,
the office door opened, and Sheera entered, her face a little pale. She bowed
before Gourdron and himself.
 
“Greetings, healer.” Gaudron said, standing up and waving his arms at another
chair that sat in front of his desk, urging Sheera to take a seat.
 
“Now, I suppose you have quite the story to recount as well.”
 
“Yes, sir. I don’t know what exactly happened,” her hands turned to fists,
bunching her white cloak at her knees. “But they were killing him and before
the blast-”
 
“Now, now,” he shushed her as he took his own seat. “I mean for you to start
from the very beginning. I want to know the entire story behind this
cayphealian boy.”
 
The healer visibly paled, her face going the colour of snow where before it had
been the shade of alabaster. Her mind raced. She would have to edit herself
very carefully around these men. They controlled the border and were highest
ranking next to the high family. They could pull and cut strings where ever
they pleased. Rezule’s future was in their hands.
 
In the mountains of the spirit bear, homosexual interactions were severely
frowned upon. Not only were they considered such things as unnatural, and
unspirit-like, but she had seen first hand how the public treated them. They
were stripped of their ranks and exiled by the temples, the people they had
once known and trusted, would turn their backs. They did not believe that they
deserved to die, but that their spirits had been lost and were somehow
corrupted into finding each other. In the army, it was common to find same sex
relationships within the men, but that was shrugged off as needed relief from
the stresses of battle, and it was expected for each soldier to return
dutifully home to his wife. Shale and Rezule’s relationship must remain a
secret from these two, lest they do much worse to Rezule than she feared they
planned to. And Shale was part of a very high standing family, and it would
stain their reputation, lessening the prospects for the younger generations.
 
“Sheera,” the gentleness to Aldric’s voice surprised even him. “You may begin.”
 
She wallowed and nodded. Her voice started off tight but she recounted her
story as best she could, only mentioning Shale when it was necessary. When she
finished, her hands were shaking.
 
“I was wondering what had happened to the third person of your party.” Gaudron
placed a fist to his chest and bowed his head. “May he rest peacefully between
the bear’s paws.”
 
“You think he’s dead?” Sheera burst, outraged. “You won’t send a team to search
for him?”
 
“Sheera, if I believed him to still be alive I would not be sitting here. “
Goudron’s voice a tone that discouraged her argument. “We are short on men as
it is with so many of us stationed in the south, and you know how deep that
canyon goes.”
 
A single tear fell down her cheek. Something moved in Aldric’s chest. “I can
spare three men-”
 
“Aldric,” Goudron warned but was hushed by Aldric’s raised palm.
 
“I can spare three men for three days, but that is all. Shale is a warrior of
the bear and I will not abandon him, but this war has us stretched thin,
despite our victories.” He put a hand over Sheera’s white fist. “If he is
alive, my men will find him.”
 
He was surprised to find her locking gazes with him, her watery eyes strong and
determined, holding him to his promise.
 
“There is the other matter of the boy, that we must attend to.” The older man;s
voice cutting through the silent vow.
 
“His name is Rezule.” Sheera said, annoyed that they never even bothered to
ask. “ I saw the spirit bear in him when his magic touched mine, and he healed
Shale from a near fatal wound without even leaving the slightest scar.”
 
“But there is no proof of this, besides your word,” Aldric questioned.
 
“If you ask anyone in Rill’s unit they will vouch for him, they saw some of the
old scars on Shale’s body disappear over night.”
 
“Even so, we both know he cannot control his magic, and his magic isn’t purely
healing magic.” He almost spat the word healing, almost. “His magic broke trees
in half. He’s not safe to be around.”
 
“He can contain it like it isn’t even there when he’s not going through a
trauma. Your interference today--”
 
“Silence!” Goudron’s bounced off the walls of his office, effectively cutting
the argument. “Aldric, we will call another meeting of the High Order and the
Dark Order tomorrow at dawn. For now, let the caypheal-- Rezule-- rest in one
of the healing rooms. He will be in your charge until it is decided how to
proceed with the past events.” He put a hand to his face and rubbed his
temples. “You are dismissed.”
 
***
Rezule relished in the feeling of the furs against his skin. Mica, a healer in
the late part of her fifty winters, had seen that he be brought some proper
clothes shortly, and that a lovely, steaming cup of tea was placed between his
hands. Here he sat on a cushioned bench, inside warm rock walls, adjacent to a
blazing hearth.
 
Sheera had seemed relieved once she had entered the healing chambers. Her eyes
lit up as many of the healers approached her in greeting, her steps light as
she made her way over to Rezule.
 
“You’re staying with me tonight.” She held out the clothes and a pare of worn
boots.
 
Rezule nodded with a mouth full of tea.
 
The Healing chambers seemed to consist of a large hall, almost like a common
room, with cushioned benches all around and a couple tables. There was even
more that one hearth present. Branching off down different hallways were
private rooms, some of them large and some of them quite small. They walked
passed the variety of rooms as they made their way to where Rezule would be
sleeping. Some had doors, while others didn’t. Healers in the rooms that didn’t
have doors were sometimes examining somebody, mixing something, and he even saw
a group of very young healers sitting in a circle and singing. Rezule found he
liked it, and the atmosphere was very comforting, and maternal. It was a busy
place, but in a soothing way.
 
Rezule slept that night in a small room with a door, right next to Sheera’s
larger room with a door. He didn’t even bother getting dressed. He draped the
extra blanket over the ones on the bed, climbed in and was out the second his
head hit the pillow.
***** Dawn *****
The snow sparkled in the moonlight. The soft din as it hit the dried leaves
made the wolf's ear twitch. His nose was on the ground, breathing in ice,
trying to catch a whiff of ermine. The wolf moved, rippling through the trunks
of small trees, as if going in and out of them; the russet colour and dapple
pattern of his fir matching the tree's bark. He made sure to keep his steps
light, the back paw fitting into the print of the one before it.
Then he smelt it.
Rich and hot, the smell of blood had wafted through the trees. The wolf perked
his head sharply up, nose in the breeze. It was fresh.
He took off at a trot, his nose leading him to the edge of the mountain, then
increased his speed until he came to the sight of a dark lump, half covered in
fresh snow, and laying among the rocks. It was no fallen billy goat, nor was it
a gored cougar, as he would sometimes find near these parts. It was a man. He
smelled of sweat and woodsmoke, so the wolf approached cautiously, but curious.
He had never been this close to a man before. They usually rode the large
beasts through his forest and had powers to kill, so were usually too fast or
too dangerous to get a good look at. The wolf lowered his head and silently
crept forward. The metallic scent hit the back of his throat, and his eyes
registered the blood that surrounded the man. He looked like what the goats did
if they accidentally took a tumble, laying in a heap with blood seeping
underneath them. He touched his nose to the man, testing.
"Uh, uh, uh. Alpha says the hooman belong to heem."
The wolf whirled, startled by the shrill voice that bounced along the falling
snowflakes. His yellow eyes caught the wolf-child, all knobby limbs, matted
fur, and strange black padded human hands, scampering over to the man. The
wolf-child had large yellow eyes, much like the wolf's, and they searched the
rocks around them until it gave a strange high pitched howl. More wolf-children
scampered over the rocks and towards the man. The wolf flattened his ears. He
didn't much like wolf-children and here they were to bother him in a rather
large number.
"Looks! I foonds heem, I foonds heem!" called the first present wolf-child, and
the many gathered around, curiosity brimming in their eyes. Some wrapped
themselves around the wolf's legs, and much to his disgruntlement, hopped onto
his back and head to get a better view of the man. Wolf was pretty sure the
poor man was dead, as some of the braver wolf-children were not too gently
climbing all over him, and he had not stirred. Two wolf-children began to argue
by his head after one had discovered how to pull at his hair.
"Hairs 'oppoosed to be sky, noot the colour of grass!" said a blonde one with
his large hands on his hips.
"Hair is the colour of sky!" the other exasperated, waving his scrawny arms in
the air.
"Noot the one with the soon in its," the first wolf-child almost groan grabbing
at his face. Another one shoved him aside,
"I thoots the hair to be blue."
A wolf-child that had its legs wrapped around the wolf's neck bounced off and
into the middle of the three others.
" What's blue?"
Wolf couldn't listen anymore. Their rambling and "cooing" way of speech made
his hackles raise. The sight of their tiny canine grins and the oddness of
their fluffy tails didn't help to sooth his temper, and if they didn't get off
of him and leave he was going to loose it on them.
Before it quite came to that, there was a rustling of branches and the wolf-
children stopped talking. They were all still, staring at the bushes, Their
small chests were ribby, and showing every quick breath they drew in their
silence.
The wolf new that is was the Alpha. He often toyed with the wolf-children like
that. He liked to scare them and delighted in their reactions.
When the Alpha finally revealed himself, the wolf was not amused by the
screeching and barking that assailed his ears from the sudden excitement of the
wolf-children.
"Alpha! Alpha you're here!" was the only intelligible word, the wolf assumed it
to be from one of the more eloquent ones of the pack.
"Ah, my woflings, so I am," chuckled the Alpha, wrapping his bare arms around
the wolf-children that had thrown themselves at him. "But it seems that Ooki is
right, the one you felled is not the right one."
The wolf-children visibly deflated in unison, but the one called Ooki puffed
out his chest. "I told yo-" his crescendoing deceleration was cut off as the
Alpha picked him up by the tail. The wolf-child's eyes were wide and stared at
the Alpha.
"Is he alive?" the Alpha addressed the scrawny upside-down wolf-child. The
wolf-child shrugged.
The wolf quirked his head, and gave a wine as the Alpha gently set down the
wolf-child and knelt beside the head of the man. He didn't want the Alpha to be
near such a dangerous creature. What if it came suddenly lively and he took
injury? He watched with nervous yellow eyes as the Alpha stretched out his hand
to the cheek of the man. He turned it's face over, showing the pale skin and
blood covered lips. The vapor that could be seen from it's breath was present,
very faintly so. It was a wonder that they could see it now, in the darkness.
The Alpha had a displeased look upon his face but went and lifted the man into
is arms. The wolf wined.
"Hush, lone wolf. I will be fine. Right now we need to do whatever we can for
this one, don't we."
Much to the wolf's chagrin, the wolf-children answered the Alpha in a chorus of
squealing agreement that drew a smile to his face. They scampered after him as
he walked towards the mountain, to the den. The wolf stayed and watched the
Alpha disappear into the rock, leaving nothing behind but the stranger's trail
of blood.
The meeting was heated. It had even come to the point that none of the other
council members were brave enough to step in. Goudron and Aldric were at each
other's throats. If Goudron had been younger the argument would have been
brought to the courtyard and finalized with blows.
They had both exhausted the topic by midmorning and neither was ready to decide
what to do with the uncontrollable power within the boy.
"We must give him a chance. See if he can train himself to control it. He might
become a very valuable asset, not only for the war but for there after. You
know this, why must you deny it."
"Deny it!" Aldric snapped, making the other bodies present on both sides of the
council jump. "I saw first hand what it looked like when he did not have
control of that magic. He felled trees Gaudron, some of them older than this
keep. I will not have him prancing around free as he pleases, only to lose
control at any moment."
"But none of the men were harmed." Goudron said calmly. Finally, he was getting
somewhere.
"The threat is still there, and you know it. I will not have anything endanger
this keep. We have children here Gaudron."
"Then he will learn with the children, it will be a good opportunity to bring
to the very basics of magic control."
"Have you not been listening to anything I have said! He is a dan-"
"Enough!" Gaudron slid back his chair and stood up, silencing any outburst from
Aldric. "All those in favor of training the boy, say 'Aye'."
The room was dead silent. Aldric stared at the dark order council members
daring them to go against him. He knew a few who were strong enough that they
might, but everyone was quiet. They all shifted restlessly.
"Aye" came a faint voice from one of the high order members, the one beside him
repeating the word in agreement.
Another "Aye" was from a dark order member, who refused to look Aldric in the
eye. The table got braver and soon it was obvious that the majority had said
"Aye", despite their hesitation.
"Anyone wish to annul this notion to torture and terminate the boy?" The room
was silent, and this time it stayed that way.
"The boy will be put into training with me by midday. You are dismissed."
The room cleared quickly, the council members filing through the door with a
whoosh of their robes. Goudron was half way to his office when a hand on his
shoulder stopped him. He turned around, and faced Aldric.
"I have to say, I'm not surprised you would wish to speak to me further but the
council has decided."
"What I don't understand is how you do not see the emanate danger in this. You
saw Elody's vision just as I did. His anger is strong, and his magic is one of
the most powerful and wild I have ever witnessed." Goudron sighed at these
words and Aldric could tell he was beginning to lose. "There is also the fact
that he is Cayphealian. He is the enemy. I do not care that Captain Shale's
wishes were for him to be unharmed, he is a danger to us all."
"You forget one thing Aldric."
"And what is that?"
"Sheera saw the bear in him, and you saw him not only heal his harpoon
injuries, but also remove the shafts just by magic. He has extraordinary
healing capabilities."
"That may be so, but his magic is also destructive. It must be dark to be able
to destroy the trees like that. It was probably just self preservation and vast
amount of magic that healed him."
Goudron was silent, his eyes pensive on the floor. When they finally looked to
Aldric they were cold. "I don't need to bring The Temples into this do I?"
Aldric clenched his fist. The Temples had never agreed with the Dark Order,
feeling that using dark magic, even in defense, went against the spirit bear.
If it involved The Temples in any way, he would be fighting a losing battle.
Goudron was threatening him.
"Now," Goudron began, his expression turning gentle. "If my training does not
work, or he has no healing magic, I believe you are the only one qualified to
train magic of that caliber so that he can control it to be of service in this
war." The surprised look Aldric gave him was almost comical. "I know we haven't
always agreed on certain things, but I believe it will take both of us to help
this boy. You also know as well as I do that we may be in need of him come the
end of this war." He turned to walk away, but was stopped by Aldric's voice.
"Never go against any form of magic, for those who have magic are touched by
the White Spirit, and the White Spirit is sacred."
The familiar scripture was a comfort. Goudron didn't like arguing with Aldric,
but sometimes the man was just as foolish as he was in his twenties. "I'm glad
to know you finally remembered." he said, then walked away.
Rezule woke to the eastern sun bursting rudely through his window. He wasn't of
the right mind the night before to shut his curtains, and so buried his head
within the blankets regretfully. No amount of blanket cover would blacken out
that sun, so he decided to get up. The clothes he was given were still neatly
folded on the small stool that sat in the room. He got out of the bed, rubbing
his arms to ward off the morning chill. He dressed, then approached the door of
his room.
The sounds of a waking community were faint behind the wood. He hesitated with
reached for the door knob, only to have the door whip open. It revealed a small
child, about seven years old, her hair a platinum blonde with green eyes.
"Sheera told me to wake you up." Her speech was very good, and her attitude
surprised him a bit; her words came out as if she was scolding him. "Its past
breakfast time but we were nice and saved you food. Come! Before someone finds
it and gobbles it up!" With that she grabbed his hand and nearly dragged him
from the door way, with barely enough time for him to shut the actual door. She
led him down some twists and turns, until they found themselves in a common
area set with long tables and many stools, of which most were empty.
There were mostly empty serving dishes in the center of the tables and the odds
and ends of dirty and clean cutlery strewn about. Rezule noticed a couple
women, wearing grey dresses and aprons, were clearing away most of it, and
wiping down the tables and stools.
The little one dragged him past this room and into what looked more like a
kitchen, with pots and pans hanging everywhere. Sheera stood leaning on a
counter, next to a heaping plate of food. She smiled at them as they
approached.
"Nice of you join us," she berated him teasingly. Rezule took notice that her
colour looked better and her eyes were more vibrant. "Did you sleep well?"
"Y-yes, thank you."
"Eat up, you're getting scrawny." She said shoving the plate for food at him
and pointing him towards a stool next to the middle counter. He sat down
obediently and began to shovel food into his mouth. Slowly at first, but then
his stomach gave a good growl and he found himself inhaling the food. He was
starving.
Sheera gave a small laugh, "You need to slow down, or it's going to come up
faster than you can make it go down."
"I'm just so hungry, and this food is amazing," he replied, through mouthfuls
of some kind of delicious cabbage wrapped squishy stuff.
"You have Ona to thank for that, she made sure she got you a good serving of
the sweet potato rolls. Those are everyone's favorite, I watched her fight for
extras."
"I did!" Pipped up Ona, her blonde head only coming to Rezule's elbow from
where he was on the stool.
He looked down at her with a smile, "Thank you, Ona."
The smile she gave him was beaming.
"Okay, he's thanked you, now off you go. You're probably being missed at
lessons are you not?" The little girl nodded at Sheera, then skipped through
and out of the kitchen, taking quick backwards glances at Rezule as she made
her exit.
"She likes you,"
"I noticed," he said, before shoving another roll into his mouth.
"I have some good news for you," Sheera began. Rezule looked at her
expectantly, trying to chew and swallow at the same time.
"At noon you will join in on the lessons and Goudron is going to teach you how
to control your magic."
Rezule choked. Enough that he barely managed to swallow what was left in his
mouth rather than spit it out in front of Sheera. He blacked out every time he
had supposedly used his magic, how in hell were they going to get him to
control it?
Sheera spotted the skeptical look in his face. "The method is very different
from what you've experienced, you'll see."
They sat in silence for a bit as Rezule finished eating, but his attention
became less on his food and more towards Sheera. Her face looked a bit worried
and she had begun to fidget with her hands.
"Is something wrong?" He asked gently, afraid of the answer.
Sheera nearly burst, "I convinced the dark order to send out some riders to
look for Shale."
Rezule just looked at her as his chest tightened. He turned back to his food.
"I know that we shouldn't get our hopes up but-"
"Sheera," his interruption stunned her a bit. He never interrupted. "It will be
enough for now, okay?"
She felt tears prick her eyes.
"If they can't find him, once I learn to control this magic of mine and can get
out of here, the first thing I'm going to do is look for him. I refuse to
grieve him and believe he's gone."
Sheera just nodded, afraid to speak. Rezule had gone back to eating, as if he
believed that there was no way Shale was gone. She recognized the determination
in his eyes.
Rezule didn't know what exactly to expect, but this was not it. They had him
change into some blue robes, which he admitted were very comfortable, but what
was not comfortable, was the position in which he was sitting.
After his wardrobe change they had him take off his boots and sit on mats with
four children around the ages of ten. Little girls to be exact, and just like
Ona, they fawned over him and asked incessant questions. There was some
resistance when one of the healers came in a made the girls settle, getting
then to sit cross-legged and "focus on tickling their magic". Whatever that
meant.
At first Rezule just sat there, but a loud clearing of the throat at a glare
from a girl with sharp dark eyes had him going cross-legged and mimicking the
girls. The had their hands resting palms up on their knees, their backs
straight and their eyes closed.
His left thie began to cramp, and he began to wonder if he was supposed to
relax his muscles or if he should keep his shoulder's back and square. There
was a rustling sound by the door, and soft bare footfalls on the stone floor.
Rezule cracked an eye open, but the girls remained with their eyes closed as a
blue robbed figure moved to the front of the circle, right across from Rezule,
and sat on his own mat.
"Close your eyes, " Began a deep, timeless voice.
Rezule snapped his shut, a little embarrassed.
"Take deep breathes, in and out, allowing the air slowly out. Don't be afraid
to make noise."
The girls breathes deepened, and Rezule followed, finding his shoulders
relaxing, but staing back in good posture.
"Now I want you all to imagine that you are the sky. No clouds, no stars, just
an unending blue of whatever colour you choose."
Rezule felt like he go it, a deep sapphire in his mind.
"Nothing else is in your mind, just the endless colour of blue. If anything
else comes to mind, just let it slip away." There was a pause in the man's
speaking, and Rezule felt his breaths with the blue sky in his head, ridding
himself of any other distractions.
"Now, you must imagine that sky within your self, never ending, and just as
vast, but within your body. But not your physical body. Remember you are
everything and everything is you."
Rezule tried. He let his mind fold out, felt himself open up. He felt a tingle
in the opening of his palms, but remembered to keep his breaths and remain
still.
The man began walking around this room, but Rezule became too focused to take
notice anymore. He let himself flow into what he felt, when the tingling
suddenly seized his whole body. He felt something inside of him then, bubble
up, as if it was being playful. It made Rezule want to laugh. It then felt as
though his palms had opened up and the tingling was flowing out of him. He felt
himself get warmer and warmer.
The gasps of the girls finally reached him in his meditative state, but all he
did was open his eyes. It's all he felt he could do. And what he saw took his
breath away.
It was though they were sitting in a forest, every spruce needle was sharp and
clear, but made of a beautiful translucent blue, stars shone in the trees and
twirled around, flowing in and out of his own palms, that were glowing a bright
blue. The laughter of a child echoed around them, the sound moving in and out
of the trees.
"Close your eyes and concentrate on closing your hands, Rezule. Remember, deep
breaths."
Rezule closed his eyes back up and thought about bringing the tingling back to
himself, back to his palms, where it had all started. The tingling receded and
stopped, so Rezule closed his palms and opened his eyes. The sets of eyes that
stared back at him were wide.
"We are done our meditation class for today, girls if you would excuse us."
The little girls, with their awestruck faces, said nothing and quickly got up
and left them alone in the room. The air became a bit tense, and Rezule's eyes
fell to his lap. A cup of tea was presented to him.
"Drink this, it will help."
Rezule grabbed the cup and nursed it a bit.
"I have never seen anything quite so extraordinary in all of my times teaching
healers and others to control their magic."
Rezule looked at him a bit puzzled. "I just did what I was told to do."
"Yes, you did," the man sipped at his own tea. "But for you to be able to
project the personality of your magic is astonishing."
"Project my- hold on a second. Who are you?" Rezule was confused. He hadn't
done anything besides breathe and concentrate on "being everything". He had no
idea what was so great about what he figured had come out of his palms. He
assumed it was his magic, but wasn't his magic supposed to do something? Like
heal or just... do something?"
"My apologies. I am Gaudron, head seat of the High Order. I was a little late
to class today. Normally I would have introduced myself at the beginning of
class."
"So if you're the one teaching me, what just happened?" Rezule felt flustered
and still confused.
"I was teaching you how to touch your magic safely. In order to fully control
it, you have to get to know your magic. It is a separate entity from you and,
as you well know, can have a will of it's own."
"So what was with all of the trees and stars?" Rezule had calmed down a bit,
and he felt himself soak up the answers Gaudron was giving. The tea also
helped, as he took sips of it wile listening to Gaudron's words.
"That was an image of your magic. It was the image that you seek when you
meditate in order to touch your magic. You however, took it a step further than
just touching. Your magic seems to be quite curious, and not at all bashful so
when you let it out it wanted to introduce itself."
Rezule gave Gaudron a look. This man was nuts. "You're talking about my magic
as if it is a completely other being."
"Oh, but it is. And your magic in particular is very powerful. The more
powerful the magic the harder it is to control."
"So you knew this would happened?"
"To be completely honest I was expecting your hands to glow and that was it.
You seemed to have reached deeper into your self than most people can their
third year of training."
"So that's a good thing?"
"Yes and no. I don't think you intentionally showed your magic, I think the
vast amounts of magic that you have, as benign as it seemed today, has no
intention of following any kind of exact order from you. This is what we call
entity magic. Your magic has had no guidance from you for so long it is now the
sole thing that looks after you."
"So it has developed it's own mind now?" asked Rezule. The magic part was
barely sinking into him, let alone the fact that it could do whatever it
pleased whenever it wanted.
"Precisely! Although all magic has a kind of conscious or personality, but
yours is much more of a handful than others. I think it would be best if I gave
you private lessons from now on. Your display was great for the girls to see,
not many get to experience a magical projection, but that just proves how much
magic you have."
"You keep saying that. That I have so much and how hard it is going to be for
me- is for me- to control it. How do I control it?"
Gaudron set down his tea cup, "All in good time Rezule. I propose we meet after
morning meal in this room." Then he stood up and nodded to Rezule. "It's close
to the time for our afternoon meal. Don't wait too long, or all the sweet
potatoes will be gone."
On that note, Gaudron exited the room, leaving Rezule in a dumbfounded silence.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
-----
So for those of you who wanted a longer chapter I have about 1,500 more words
than usual, yay! I'm going to try to keep this chapter length. Also, story
wise, things are going to settle a bit in the next few chapters. I'm hoping
nobody will find it slowly paced. I'm also going to pump a lot of information
at you guys as Rezule learns more. If there is something you don't understand
don't be afraid to message/email me! Also I'm writing this kind of fast now so
if you see and discrepancies in plot or anything give a shout. Thanks for
reading!
***** Questions *****
REZULE HAD SKIPPED THE AFTERNOON MEAL and spent his time exploring the keep.
His mind was wandering, asking questions he had no answers to yet and fretting
over the challenges that he knew he had ahead.
He found out surprisingly quickly when the afternoon meal was over; what had
once been deserted hallways of stone soon came alive with all different colours
of cloaks on all ages of people. Everyone was talking, some laughing. The
positive energy that flowed around him gave him goosebumps. In the keep, people
were relatively happy. Rezule couldn’t remember a time in his life, where so
many people were together and going about their business, when everyone was
happy.
He wandered through the crowds turning down hallways that were familiar and
also ones that were new. Some people stared openly at him and he saw two
teenage girls in blue robes blush when he looked at them, and they walked
quickly past him, heads together, whispering and giggling.
Rezule didn’t mind the attention. He was used to it in a way. At the military
base people tended to give him a wide berth, but every so often he would get
glares and curious stares from people of whom he had never even talked to.
His thoughts were disrupted by a ruckus that he could see coming down the
hallway towards him. A little white dog burst from between a blue clad women’s
legs. Right on it’s tail was a recognizable platinum blonde girl with bright
green eyes.
“Ussy!!! Ussssyyyyyyy!!” She bellow after the dog, her arms and little white
robe flailing.
Rezule crouched down and easily caught the fluffy creature as it tried to zoom
past. It struggled in his hands but when he brought it to his chest it calmed
down.
“Ona, what are you doing?”
She gave him a suspicious look when she stopped in front of him.
“I was playing with Ussy.” Her enfaces on the past tense of her sentence made
Rezule want to laugh, but he didn’t dare.
He set the dog down, expecting it to run, but it just sat at their feet and
wiggled its tail.
“Why do you have a wrinkle on your forehead?”
Her question was out of the blue and he stared at her a bit dumfounded.
“Sheera says people get wrinkles on their foreheads from thinking too hard.”
“I guess I do have some questions that I have no answers to.” Why was he
confiding in a little girl? It felt rather ridiculous.
“Have you checked the library?” Her tone was condescending, but Rezule decided
that she wore it quite charmingly.
“I don’t know where the library is.” He had been wondering for hours, and had
yet to find anything that resembled a library. At his words her face lit up
with excitement.
“Follow me and Ussy!” She said. “We know where it is!” She took off at a run
halfway through her sentence, the dog hot on her heels. Rezule had to follow at
a jog just to keep up.
 
They passed countless halls and Rezule had to sidestep many people to keep the
little blonde haired girl in his sights. The yapping dog helped with her
location, when Rezule lost Ona’s white shape in the crowd. They passed many
doors where a person of authority would shout “No running in the corridors!”,
only to have Ona completely ignore them with Rezule apologizing in her wake.
Rezule realized he was completely lost, knowing he would probably not be able
to find his way back to the healing chambers by himself, when Ona stopped in
front of a pair of huge doors.
Rezule had never seen anything like it and it made his feet stop and stole his
breath. In Caypheal nothing is decorated much except for in the cities and the
castle. The ornamentation upon the door was the most beautiful he had ever seen
and he put his hand up on the door, letting the smooth surface of his skin
brush over the details. He recognized some of the creatures from the stories
he’d heard as a child and others that he didn’t recognize. The work was
maginfic--
The left door swung open, nearly hitting Rezule, and a group of blue clad and
red clad adolescents strolled out in a pack. Some gave him odd looks and others
smiled. He smiled back, but a small thought, or rather, a feeling in his chest
didn’t let it reach his eyes. These children, no matter their background or
future were in a warm happy place. They were able to be surrounded by peers and
they weren’t chaperoned for every waking hour. Rezule didn’t recognize his
jealousy until he thought of his life. Always hard and cold, a complete
contrast to the world that stood inside now. Not in his wildest dreams had he
could imagine that a society could function where people were allowed to choose
where to be, or were happy about where they had to be.
Their was laughter from the group that managed to pull Rezule from his inner
turmoil. He spotted a white streak running down the hall with white robes
chasing after it.
“Are you wanting to go in?” The voice rumbled behind him, and he turned fast,
startled.
He came face to face with a tall man in black robes, “I...” but his voice
dropped when he recognized the face. His blood ran cold through his veins.
The man had dark hair --dark cayphealian hair-- and his face was the match to
the man that had commanded the ambush the day before. He held the big wooden
door open now, motioning for Rezule to enter the library, his face look
expectant, no longer stern.
“You’re Rezule, aren’t you?”
All Rezule could do was nod, fisting his cold hands. The man didn’t give any
sign that he noticed.
“Go on, “ His eyes softened and he nodded his head towards the open door way.
“You may be surprised but you will find what your looking for.”
Rezule swallowed, and somehow his feet moved him to the threshold of the great
doors. The man just nodded respectfully then let go of the door and let it
gently swing closed behind Rezule.
The shock of meeting the man who had wielded the sword that had attempted to
kill him allowed Rezule to remain moving, as if in a daze, through the grand
library. He barely noticed the desks that he moved around and found himself
climbing a set of stairs, barely picking up on the stacks of books that towered
over his head that he left behind. The upper floor held some couches and more
huge shelves. Rezule paused in front of a hearth that burned and sat himself
down on the couch. He stared into the flames, letting the benign hushed
whispers of the inhabitants and the silent presence of the books calm him. The
meeting with that man had him wound tight as a bow string, but Rezule felt a
need to calm himself down. His head throbbed, like his blood was being
pressurized behind his eyes and he put his hands on his temples. He needed to
relax. He felt stressed, worried anxious and by the spirits did he miss Shale.
His chest tightened and the pressure behind his eyes increased until he felt a
tear drip off of his chin. He wrapped his arms around himself and let the fire
warm him. His eyes followed the swift flame, and cried silently until his eyes
felt raw and heavy. Then he closed them, and drifted off to the sound of the
crackling embers.
 
ALDRIC SLAMMED THE DOOR OF HIS office behind the messenger. His soldiers had
found Shale’s horse, untacked and killed by a blade. The tack was still there
so they assumed it had been a merciful killing by Shale and not bandits. But
they had found a lot of blood. Blood wasn’t good. Hope would have been on their
side if they had only found the dead horse. That meant he was alive. The blood
meant he was dead or dying. His best tracker reported strangeness too, how the
blood changed from droplets most likely due to an external injury, to full out
dumping, as if someone had poured a bucket, or had split open his guts. And the
tracks, they just seemed to disappear. His body wasn’t dragged away, but
spirited away. Why? By whom or by what?
Aldric was distracted from his thoughts by a light knock at his door. He opened
in, not surprised to find Sheera.
“Did they find anything?”
Aldric motioned her into his office and shut his door behind her. He moved to
his desk and grabbed the reports and handed them to Sheera to read. When she
was finished she looked up in confusion.
“This doesn’t make sense.”
“Of course it doesn’t.” Aldric agreed as he sat down behind his desk. “Shale’s
disappearance has become more of a mystery. My men are still out there combing
he bush for him though with the blood...”
Sheera sighed, “I know well enough what the blood means. It’s just...” Her eyes
fell to the floor and she flushed a bit. “The dark order is more... open, to
the discussion of men sharing relationships.”
“Sharing... Oh.” Aldric’s eyebrows rose. “So that’s why our young Rezule is so
unstable.”
Sheera nodded and spoke carefully, “I didn’t want to say anything in front of
Gaudron, but that is why I fear what will happen if we don’t find anything that
is a clue that Shale is still alive, not that I also don’t hope for it myself.
You saw Rezule. He got angry and when that happens his magic takes advantage of
him.”
“We still have two more days, and my soldiers are still out there combing the
bush. They will find something more.”
“We can only hope.”
 
SHEERA’S APPREHENSION TOWARDS HIS SOLDIER’S tracking skills left Aldric
disgruntled and he spent the better part of the afternoon madly doing paper
work. He didn’t leave his office until sundown, carrying a couple books with
him to return to the library. He set the books down on a desk on the first
level, knowing some apprentice librarian would freak the next morning and put
them back in the proper place.
Aldric rolled his shoulders back, stretching his sore spine and trying to rid
himself of an ache that plagued his muscles. He didn’t know whether it was from
working over his desk for so long or the stress that the war was causing. And,
to top it off, Aldric was pretty sure that Gaudron was going to get someone
killed letting the unstable Cayphaellian boy run around the keep. He sighed,
noticing that there was only a couple of lamps lit in the library. The
bookshelves had been put to bed and everything was meticulously tidy, yet
Aldric’s brain itched about the mystery that was the missing warrior.
The valley the warrior had fallen into had quite the lore attached to it, if
Aldric remembered correctly, he just had to find the book. He wandered up to
the second floor of the library trying to go back in his memory to where he had
found the book before. He walked slowly weaving in and out of bookshelves, the
faint lamp light and moon glow from the windows not enough for him to read the
spines of the books. He brought up his hand, as if holding something and
brought his magic forth. A ball of light began to grow in his hand with an
ethereal white glow. Then he strolled through the book shelves, occasionally
stopping to read a spine or open a book. He had gathered several promising ones
in his arms when he heard the crackling of one of the hearths.
It was odd for somebody to be up this late, even odder for someone to be in the
library, but he figured it was probably one of the students. They over did
importance of the theory Gaudron taught them, in Aldric’s opinion, and he found
some of their shared students hard to get focusing when doing on hand work
because they were too tired from studying for some stupid written test.
Aldric was in the middle of his thoughts when he rounded the book shelf to the
gathering of comfy chairs. The student was fast asleep, curled up in his blue
robes. Aldric sent the books down gently on the middle table after
extinguishing his ball of light. The fire was dying a bit, and Aldric put a
couple more logs on so he had better light for reading. The fire crackled up
with flying glowing sparks as the log settled.
The noise made the student stir, but he didn’t lift his head from where it was
sheltered under the robes.
Aldric made himself comfortable on the chair opposite the student and cracked
open one of the books. Folklore had never been one of Aldric’s forte’s, but
remembered as a child being told about little wolf-people. It was a fond
memory, one with his mother and a snuggly blanket. Before him on the page of
the book was a depiction of the creature she had painted for him that night.
Small, human like in the face, with large eyes, small nose, large wolf ears,
and a fluffy tail. Cute, but deadly, or so the legend went.
The written part of the page held nothing that Aldric didn’t already know, so
he put it down in exchange for a different one. This next one was thicker and
in gold leaf on the front read, “The Language of Trees, and Other Oddities.”
Aldric skimmed through it finding nearly nothing until he reached the picture
of the canyon. The book said the canyon was not passible unless taking the
dangerous route high on the cliffs. The excerpt read, “It is not often that one
will fall into the canyon, but when one does they are surely never seen again.
Man must always be wary of the wolf that lives under the mountain.” That was
it. The paragraph ended with that sentence and the book moved into the chapter
about glowing lights often seen in muskeg.
Aldric slammed the book shut in frustration. The paper of the innards of the
book smacking together in a loud clap. The sound rang out impossibly loud
through the empty library and made the poor student jump out of sleep. A mop of
dark hair popped out of the robes and blue eyes squinted in confusion. Aldric
swore.
***** Lethrune *****
The nausea that rolled up through Shale’s insides, bubbling like a sea beast,
waking him from his dead sleep. He rolled himself onto his side and heaved, the
contents of his stomach spraying across a stone floor. It took him a moment to
get his bearings, before he realized that he was completely naked and in some
kind of cave. The only light along the craggy stone walls was a low blue glow
that gave his blurry vision an odd monochrome tint.
The world began to spin away on Shale again, when he felt a gentle, warm hand
stroke up his spine from buttocks to his nape. The touch sent a flush through
his body, like a fever. He shuddered.
A wooden bowl was pressed to his lips as the person lifted up his shoulders a
bit. There were soft words spoken, but Shale couldn’t make out what it was
saying. He drank a few gulps, the water soothing his chapped lips and parched
tongue. The water hit his stomach soon after he had gulped it down and it
burned like rolling lava as it twisted through him.His back arched with the
pain, and he could feel the tendons of his neck draw impossibly tight as the
unbearable heat moved slowly from his belly to his extremities. As suddenly as
it had come it was gone, but Shale was left gasping and limp as a doll.
His vision was even more blurry and he tried to blink, to focus, but his eyes
were still watery from the pain. Those warm hands were placed on his stomach,
just above his naval. Shale expected to feel the burning pain that had
originated there from the water and flinched as he felt the touch, but nothing
happened. Those hands followed the movement of his belly from quick breaths. Up
and down. Counting?
When they finally moved, one remained while the other stroked from his stomach
to his sternum. Again Shale was hit with that odd feeling of warmth. He felt
sweat prick his naked body, and shivered. But with that wave came more clarity
to his eyes, and his breath came easier.
He caught a peek of his healer through the odd light. It was male, but Shale
knew better than to identify him as human. He was tall and lithe, with a shaggy
mop of dark coloured hair and yellow eyes. The fingers that spread on his chest
were long, the nails thick and black, tapered into blunt claws.
“Who are you?” Shale managed to croak out. His throat felt like the inside had
been burned.
“My name is Rikosha, but please, do not try to talk, you must heal.”
The next moment Shale felt eyes rolled to the back of his head and his world
became shrouded in darkness.
 
RIKOSHA GRAZED HIS half hooded eyes over the Bear Warrior. The healing had
taken the energy out of him, exhausted to the bone, and he wished he could
sleep as peacefully as the warrior did now. Although the pale skin gleamed with
sweat and the blonde hair was plastered to his skull, dark and wet, his sleep
was relaxed and no longer plagued by internal terrors.
Rikosha had placed him beside the healing pool on the cold stone. It had been
three days that he’d tried to draw the fever out of the man, but still it had
yet to break. His leg had been set to heal on it’s own, as soon as Rikosha
understood the poison that writhed in his veins.
He had went to heal the leg first when he’d first found the man, so that
infection would not set, but was forced to stop when his hands withdrew from
the leg with magic that was black and sticky. Like a pestilence it had eaten
his healing magic with ravenous speed as he tried to heal the leg. Startled,
Rikosha had planted his hands into the healing pool. The pool had shivered in
the presence of such darkness. Painfully slow, the water dispersed the darkness
into its depths and off of Rikosha’s hands.
The pool would not be able to handle the amount within the warriors body all at
once, Rikosha knew, so dunking the man’s whole body in was not an option.
He returned to the warrior and started with trying to draw the black out of his
body a bit at a time. With every withdraw the body resisted, fever rampant.
Rikosha found a way to scrape the darkness off of his hands so the pool didn’t
have to consume so much but it started to take considerable magic.
And here Rikosha sat, leaning heavily against the wall of the cave. Hands
shaking and his magic quivering with the fear of the unknown poison. Every
attempt at curing the man before had that darkness baiting him, calling him.
Rikosha clenched his shaking hands into fists and stumbled to the pool. He let
himself collapse into the water and disappeared beneath its glowing surface.
 
REZULE LOOKED LIKE he had seen a ghost before his eyes widened and he tried to
scramble away. Aldric had already stood and brought his magic forth. If this
kid decided to blow the top off of whatever was holding in his magic, Aldric
would be damned if he let him burn down the library.
But the eyes never started glowing. They remained glacier blue, bar the
reflection of the firelight. Rezule had ended up in a defensive position next
to the armrest of the couch, legs spread, arms up.
Aldric waited half a breath before he released his magic, letting it settle
back into slumber. The kid hadn’t lost control, or rather, Aldric figured his
magic recognized that his life was not in danger. Interesting. It was a long
time since Aldric had met someone with instinctual response type magic like
him.
When he had faced Rezule at the library doors earlier in the day, he figured
Rezule was looking for information on magic. The dried tear tracks down the
boy’s face and the red that lined his stunning eyes said something else. Thanks
to Sheera’s spilling of a discretion Aldric would have assumed locked water
tight, he felt more of an understanding to Rezule’s desperate nature. Love was
a fickle beast.
“You’re safe, Rezule.” Aldric let his voice break the silence first, hoping it
sounded comforting enough to get the young man to leave and go back to his
chambers or at least settle. Although the wild magic in him remained dormant
Aldric recognized that his muscles were wound tight, ready to fight if it came
to that. Aldric’s words had no effect on the tension.
“What are you doing here?”
Rezule’s voice was gravely and rough.
Aldric settled himself back into his own chair, picking up a new book from the
table and opening it. He didn’t look up from searching the pages. “I’m looking
for information to help find the missing Warrior. What are you doing? It’s
quite rightly past the middle of the night, didn’t Sheera give you a place to
sleep?”
Rezule’s shoulders lowered, his body relaxing an inch, but his eyes were
flaming and his expression was wary. Aldric’s words had peaked his interest.
At least that’s something, Aldric thought to himself.
“I have a room where the healers are.”
Aldric nodded then motioned to the chair. He waited patiently and was satisfied
when Rezule sat down.
. “It seems our previous interactions have been strained--” Rezule snorted in
contempt. Aldric pretended not to notice, “--and by happenstance our paths have
crossed again. Perhaps it was I who needed the help finding something.” He
handed a book to Rezule. Rezule took it gingerly, his eyes widening.
He flickered his eyes up nervously to Aldric, “I haven’t held a proper book in
a very long time.”
Aldric couldn’t help let a small smile tug at the corners of his mouth. No
wonder that warrior was drawn to him. If not his stunning, exotic colouring,
then his ability to behave like a seasoned warrior one minute and a child full
of wonder in the next.
“Shale fell into a canyon covered in very mysterious mythology,”
Rezule looked down at the book in his hands, “Wolf-people” his lips mouthed as
he read the title.
“Or more technically known as a ‘lethrune’, but that’s only if your a scholar.
They’re said to have once ruled the forests.”
“There was a lot of howling. How do you know it wasn’t normal wolves?”
“Normal wolves would have eaten the body of Shale’s horse.”
Rezule shot up to attention, “You found where he fell?”
Aldric felt something akin to regret at what he would have to tell Rezule.
“There was a blood trail,” The young soldier’s face fell, “But his body had not
been found. In fact, we have reason to believe he might still be alive.”
“We do?”
“I used to live in those same woods,”
Rezule threw him a calculated look that Aldric ignored. That would be a story
for another time.
“And I remember as a small child a messenger that had gotten himself lost. Do
you know how he found his way out of the woods, before starvation and the
elements took its hold?”
Rezule just shook his head, waiting for him to get to the point.
“A perfect row of rabbit bones, lined up end to end, making a followable line
all the way to our house.”
“How do you know it was the wolf-people?”
“Who else would it be?”
Before Rezule could sputter the incredibility of Aldric’s claim, that the
messenger had been crazed, or it was just by chance, Aldric held up his hand to
shush him.
“What if I told you that I’ve seen them?”
Rezule looked at Aldric darkly, “I suppose the catch to this is that you had
been a child at the time? You could have dreamt it, imagined it, how old were
you even?”
“Oh, it was no dream, boy.” Aldric opened the book to a picture of a small
creature, with a human face and body, and wolf tail and ears. “But this, was
not what I saw.”
 
REZULE HAD ALMOST had it with this man. Was this a ruse? Some sick joke?
With a sigh, Aldric put down the book. “You don’t believe a word I’m saying do
you?”
Rezule cocked his head, “If your asking if I’m having a hard time believing
that Shale was spirited away by a pack of tiny wolfy children, then yes. But I
have to believe he is alive. He can’t be dead.” Rezule knew it. Felt it right
down to his bones, through skin and flesh. Shale was a live. He had to be.
Aldric’s chest tightened a bit, in a way it hadn’t in many years. This boy’s
relationship was formed by more than a simple infatuation, and that was
reflected in the hope in those eyes. The desperation of those words.
“What I saw when I was a boy was not what is illustrated in those books. I saw
a man with wolf eyes, and he is possibly the only lead that we have to finding
Shale.”
“How?”
Aldric leaned back in his chair with a sigh, “The answer to that question is
the reason why I am digging through these dusty tomes. I’ve found a little
about a wolf living in the mountain, but nothing else. I think that Shale was
taken, even possibly rescued by this ancient creature.”
Rezule nodded then cracked open the book he had in his hand and began to leaf
through the pages. “Let’s get to finding some answers, then.”
Aldric’s smile crooked to the side. It had been a while since he’d been around
someone with such determination. This kid waisted no time.
They worked in companionable silence well into the early hours of dawn. Aldric
occasionally going and fetching more books while Rezule stoked or fed the fire.
They had barely found anything, except for one noted account by an author about
the wolf and how lonely it seemed to be the only one of its kind. As the dawn
light broke through the windows, both of their spirits were low. Aldric felt
like an incompetent ass, leading the kid on in hope of some fantastical
creature, and Rezule felt that he shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up. Shale may
really be gone.
Until Aldric stood up as if someone had thrown hot embers under his seat.
He read from a small book in his hands, “ The that wolf lives under the
mountain, was seen today. He merged from the side of the mountain as if
bleeding from the stone, and when my men had ran to check after, at the point
where he had appeared and disappeared, they found no cave, nor fissure in the
rock. He had stood and watched for a couple moments, his yellow eyes studying
us curiously, then looked down to the half butchered deer. We should have been
more careful about taking down the doe so near to the base of that mountain. He
lunged toward us and my men scattered away from the deer. We would let him have
it. He grabbed it by the head and lifted as if it weighed only one stone,
turned back to the rock, and was gone.”
Rezule looked tired, but the excitement in his eyes seemed to outweigh the dark
colour underneath them. “So we think this wolf took him?”
Aldric nodded, “This account was taken in the exact corner of the mountain
where Shale’s trail completely disappeared. I’ll assemble a party and go down
there and check the walls. I have a feeling only magic will be able to find
him.”
“I’ll have to let Sheera know where I’m going. I didn’t--”
“You’re not going anywhere, Rezule.” Aldric let his tone boom authoritatively
through the empty library. End of discussion. Aldric, however, was unsurprised
by the shocked rebellion plastered over Rezule’s face.
“You can’t be serious. I have to go with you, I have to find Shale. If he’s
still alive--”
“If he’s still alive he will be found, but you’re not allowed out of this keep
until we have determined that you can control your magic.”
Anger rolled through Rezule, and Aldric’s magic could feel it.
“I’ll walk you back to your room, you must be exhausted.”
Rezule stood up and began to walk away before Aldric even finished the
sentence. “I know my own way back.” and left the warm little sitting area to
walk blindly through the cold book shelves.
 
THE TRUTH WAS he had no idea where he was going. He just needed to leave,
feeling the tightness in his throat and the burning behind his eyes.
Frustration mingled with the grief. His hope at seeing Shale again wasn’t
completely extinguished, but even with the new lead to why Shale’s trail had
gone cold, he felt it waver. The so called wolf sounded like a wild goose chase
to him, and didn’t even fit with the well known legend of the little wolf
people. There was also the fact of Shale’s illness from the drug. Sheera had
said he didn’t have long, and it was already past the date that she had
predicted.
That thought put ice through Rezule’s chest, and he was surprised he made it to
the library doors with his composure still intact. He slammed he hands on the
wood and burst into the hall, the cool morning light spilling in from the
eastern windows. The hall was completely empty, the torches from the night not
yet extinguished.
He walked along it, turning at random intervals going nowhere in particular,
the large lavish stone corridors turning into unpolished narrow passages. His
gait was slow and meditative, yet his insides were in a constant writhing of
turmoil, so he barely noticed the change in decor. All he thought about was how
he didn’t want to go back to his chambers, he didn’t want to go to morning
meal, and he most certainly did not want to face Sheera. She’d see his hurt and
would try to fix it in her motherly way. That just might break the walls he
built to hold it all in.
Instead, Rezule wandered, until his nose brought him to a halt. Horses. He
smelt horses.
His pace quickened, his eyes searching for the door that must lead to the
stables. He found it rather easily, the sounds of snorting and a couple
whinnies coming from behind the wooden panels.
A waft of warmth from animal bodies hit him like a wall, a very soft,
comforting wall, when he opened up the small door. It wrapped around him nicely
and he found himself walking through the middle of the alley of stalls. Half
walls of stone and wondrously carved half doors where horse heads popped out at
him curiously, some munching hay, and following him with their swiveling ears,
welcomed him.
He let his hands graze over a couple velvety noses, and almost instantly the
sense of loss that plagued him shed off like a layer of clothing.
“Oi! Mocaso, bout time you-- Oh, you’re not Mocaso.”
Rezule turned to face the raggedy looking man who had popped out of one of the
stalls with a pitch fork in his hand.
“Can I help you with anything?” the man said as he took off his hat, shook some
hay off of it and replaced it back atop his head.
“No... It’s just... Could I help?”
The man scrunched his face, “With the chores? Aren’t you one of Goudron’s
boys?”
“Yes, well... Not really.” He looked to his feet, “I just need to keep myself
busy today.” He smiled at the man, trying not to bristle at being called boy.
“If it’s busy you’re looking for, you’re in the right place.” The man gave him
a once over then nodded to himself and held out his hand. “Name’s Tripennary,
but people call me Trip.”
Rezule took his hand in a firm shake, “Rezule.”
Trip cocked his head, “Odd name that, don’t suppose mine’s any better,” he
laughed as he turned and waved for Rezule to follow down the row of stalls.“You
know much about horses?”
“My father was a horse trader and trainer and I’ve cared for them since I was
small.”
Rezule wasn’t expecting the odd look Trip gave him.
“Yer not from around here, are you.” Trip said looking away from him as they
stopped at what looked like the first stall in the barn and opened the door.
“No, sir.”
A bucket was slapped into his chest with a slosh of the little remaining water
as Trip gave a dismissing grunt. Then pointed down the rows of stalls.
“Take all the water pales out of the stalls and dump what’s remaining outside
the side door there, then refill them and place them back. Doesn’t matter which
order but if somebody hasn’t drunk anything, let me know.”
“Yes, sir”
Rezule felt his day pass quickly, now that it was filled with shoveling straw
and scrubbing tack. The company of the horses and the hums of rhythmless toons
from Trip were only interrupted when the missing stable boy appeared an hour
after Rezule had started work. He had gotten a smack on the back of the head
and was sent to haul all of the old bedding out of the barn. Quite a disgusting
and tricky job, Rezule knew.
He was delighted when he found Wicka, safe, sound, and happily munching her
breakfast. He took extra time grooming her, and managed to sneak a couple
handfuls of oats into her feed bucket.
When he had finished grooming all of the horses, Trip had take some of them out
of their stalls and tied them with ropes that were on either side of the alley
way to the sides of their halters. Once he had six horses out he began saddling
them, then instructed Rezule to help.
Rezule knew these horses were for the riders that were going to the mountain
with Aldric. That information kept taunting him, stirring up ideas of how he
was in the right place at the right time. He didn’t make any move yet, not
until the six black robbed riders came from the main entrance and mounted.
Aldric was the last to enter, and with a surprised look, noted Rezule’s
presence. Rezule held his horse for him while he mounted. He didn’t look at
Rezule but before he trotted out of the barn to follow the other riders, his
voice broke the tranquil quiet.
“Don’t do anything stupid.” Then Aldric’s heels nudged the sides of his horse,
and he was gone.
 
Rezule couldn’t ignore the itch despite Aldric’s warning. As Aldric disappeared
out of the stable, he turned and grabbed Wicka’s halter. Before Trip had time
to notice, Rezule had tied the lead rope to both sides of Wicka’s halter like
makeshift reins and was vaulting onto her. She was cantering out the open door
of the barn and the wintery blast of cold air cut through Rezule’s blue robes,
before Trip’s shouts reached their ears. Maybe he should have grabbed a cloak.
***** Absence *****
The fur brushed his skin, warm and soft. Shale’s lungs filled easily, although
his chest felt sore. He stretched his arms and legs out, sighing as his
shoulders, knees and hips popped, releasing their stress from being so still.
He felt his muscles uncurl under his skin, attempting to be limber. He didn’t
open his eyes or try to sit up. A heaviness hung on his bones and made his
movements feel weak and feeble. He settled back into the rug and took a deep
breath moving the stale air from the bottom of his lungs. The softness and
warmth of the fur had him releasing all the tension he felt inside, and wrapped
around him almost tangibly. He felt so safe. So protected. His stomach turned,
irritated from the lack of food, but Shale refused to open his eyes and
snuggled deeper into the furs. He had no idea as to where he was, but he felt
no panic, no need to get up.
There was movement off to the side of his fuzzy oasis, but he barely registered
it. He didn’t care if the world blew up around him, as long as he got to enjoy
his comfort as long as possible. He was also, oddly enough, not started when a
body lay behind him and wrapped its arms around his waist. He would have though
it would instill panic into him, but the strong arms and the warm chest that he
was pulled against seemed to melt away that feeling. Those arms felt familiar,
like home. A tired smile graced Shale’s face and he twisted to give Rezule a
kiss on the mouth.
The lips he found were eager, but Shale was too tired to do anything but turn
himself so we was snuggling chest to chest. Rezule’s hair seemed longer, Shale
thought, as his fingers played with the strands. Rezule’s hands wander all over
his body, much more confident than he had been before with touching Shale
. Shale didn’t have time to analyze any of it before he was drawn back into
slumber.
*******
Rezule’s hands were so cold that they hurt. An ache that went from his
fingertips to his elbows felt like his exposed skin was on fire and it took
everything he hand to hold on to the reins and Wicka’s mane and focus on
steering her through the brush with his legs. The black figures and their long
legged black mounts had made good time through the forest, leaving only their
hoof prints in the snow for Rezule to follow. He’d thought he’d be able to
catch up with them, but the trees were unfamiliar and Wicka was spooky without
other horses around.
A command to halt echoed through the frozen branches and Rezule’s heart lifted.
He was close enough to be in hearing range and they must have reached the
destination. He eased Wicka into a walk, though her nerves had her shaking her
head irritably after their brisk run. They had flat out galloped out of the
stable yard until she had become too winded for the pace, and the six black
figures had disappeared behind the standing pillars of grey bark and dense
bush. She slowed to an easy canter before the distance became too much and
Rezule slowed her into a trot. He did not want to fall behind but he wouldn’t
risk his horse. Rezule didn’t know how long they had traveled but he could no
longer feel his toes, nor his hands, and judging by the steam and moisture that
came off of Wicka, they were a fare distance from the keep.
Rezule knew he was almost upon them when Wicka’s head lifted and ears pricked
and she widened her nostrils, smelling the other horses. Rezule could hear them
too. Men’s voices and the occasional equine snort.
He stopped on the trail and dismounted, his legs and arms stiff from the cold.
He knotted Wicka’s reins so she wouldn’t get tangled and left her to much on
the brown grass that stuck up through the snow. She’d stay within calling
distance like she was trained to.
The brambles pulled a little bit at Rezule’s breeches, but he quickly figured
out how to move through them silently and approached the party, taking heed to
stay hidden. His blue robe didn’t really help him any, but he found a spot
where he could hear and see without being easily noticed.
Four were still mounted, their horses steaming as Wicka was and restless. They
were holding the two riderless horses, who’s reins were an absolute mess as the
horses shifted disobediently against their mounted handlers causing a comically
confused mess of man an equine. The two dismounted figures faced the line where
the forest ended. A great, sheer wall of stone rose up into the sky, casting
the small clearing before it in shadow, adding to the strange feeling that
Rezule already got from the place. It was like an energy flowed somewhere and
he could hear it, yet it made no sound. The skin on his neck pricked and his
shivering began a new, but not from the cold.
One of the dismounted men was clearly Aldric. He cut a distinguishing figure in
his black robes with his matching midnight hair. Rezule noted with an odd
twinge in his belly that Aldric was quite attractive when he wasn’t being an
ass and even from this distance one could see the line of his square shoulders
and the sharpness of his exceptionally groomed beard.
Aldric raised his hand toward the wall and the unnerving sound that was not a
sound increased in Rezule’s head. It had to be all in his head. Aldric lowered
his hand and said something to the second dismounted man too low for Rezule to
make out. The man turned to the four mounted men, “Why don’t one of you go
fetch our visitor?”
Rezule instantly froze. One of the men made eye contact with him and had his
horses nearly on top of Rezule in four strides. Rezule tried to scrambled, but
his movements were slow and sluggish from how cold he must have been. He didn’t
even make it past a tree before the black robed man had dismounted and grabbed
him by the collar of his blue robes. The man quickly dragged him back to the
party where he was met with a very unimpressed Aldric. The man’s brows were
furrowed, and a scowl scoured his features taking away all that Rezule had once
found possibly attractive about him.
Rezule opened his mouth to defend himself, but was cut off by Aldric’s raised
hand.
“I told you not to do anything stupid,” Aldric couldn’t keep the acid out of
his voice as he looked Rezule up and down before unclipping his brooch and
taking off his cloak and handing it to him, “Ursid, you’re nearly blue from the
cold.” His voice ballooning with rage.
The warmth from the recently worn cloak enveloped Rezule as he wrapped around
his shoulders. He hadn’t realized how cold he was. Aldric secured the brooch as
Rezule began shivering again. He was left silent from the unexpected generosity
and the extent of Aldric’s anger. Surely it wasn’t that bad to be out of the
keep? Aldric was the one who had wanted him out of there in the first place.
“Arjax, take him back to the keep.”
One of the soldiers obediently stepped forward to grab Rezule but he stumbled
back away from Arjax, snapping out of his thoughts at the realization that he
was going to be removed from the search party.
“No!” he protested. “I’m not leaving until we find Shale.”
Aldric rounded on him, his eyes going cold as steel. “You will obey my command
and return to the keep. Do not behave like a petulant child.”
“I am not yours to command.” Rezule’s words were calm, but as cold as the snow
beneath his feet. He didn’t back down to Aldric’s show of intimidation either,
taking a step forward closer to the man, knowing his eyes blazed blue.
Normally, people backed down to Rezule. All his life all he’d had to do to
intimidate someone was stare at them for too long. Sometimes it worked in his
favor and sometimes it got him a fist in the face. At least it rendered a
reaction.
Aldric met his stare straight on and took a responding step towards him. “Go
with Arjax. Now.”
“No-”
Rezule had barely finished the end of his word before Aldric’s hand was around
his throat and his back was slammed into the rock face. The back of his head
hit the rock hard and the wind that was knocked out of him couldn’t recover
with the hand around his wind pipe. The buzzing from earlier was now tenfold,
causing his temples to throb and he didn’t know whether to claw at Aldric’s
hands or at his own head.
Aldric lowered his face to Rezule’s, “You can feel it, can’t you?” Rezule
almost didn’t hear his words the buzzing was so loud. “This is what a shield of
magic feels like.” The hand around Rezule’s neck got tighter as he was pressed
harder into the rock. “And one this powerful, is nearly impenetrable. If that
creature really did take Shale, it does not want to give him back.”
Aldric let go of Rezule and watched him with a cold gaze as he dropped to his
hands and knees, choking and coughing into the ground.
Fury burned in Rezule’s chest as his eyes streamed with tears from being
choked. His hands made white fists in the cold snow.
“We will all head back, the search for the warrior is over.” Aldric spoke to
his soldiers and began to walk back to his horse.
Rezule didn’t move. He couldn’t believe that Shale was gone. There had to be a
way into that mountain. He pounded one of his fists into the snow with
frustration.
Rezule hadn’t realized that Aldric had paused and turned around until he spoke,
“Get up Rezule.”
The fury sparked anew in his chest, and Rezule lunged at Aldric. His
unthoughtful leap had caused him to severely miss his target, engendering a
skeptical look from Aldric and a couple low chuckles from the other dark robed
men as he passed Aldric propelled by his initial charge. At least he was now on
his feet.
“That’s not how I would have done it, but I guess you listened.”
Rezule turned back to Aldric at his words, furry blurring his vision. He
charged again, intent to bludgeon the smart aleck expression from Aldric’s
face. He was two paces from that face when his legs were swept out from
underneath him and he landed on his chest, hard.
His chin cut on the ice and snow, but barely felt it as he reached back with
frustration to try to untangle the bolas that had been used to trip him, thrown
by one of the men on horseback. His near frozen fingers did little to help and
barely were able to grasp at the snug rope. Foot steps in the snow had him
abandoning his attempt at freedom and his attention was drawn back to Aldric,
who's black boots stood a mere inch from his nose.
Aldric leaned down to Rezule, so close that he could smell the man’s aroma of
Bay oil and oak moss and couldn’t meet his eyes.
“You are going to need to forget him Rezule.” He said as he grabbed Rezule by
the neck of the cloak and lifted him into a sitting position. “Warriors are
lost to us all the time. Ones that had families; wives and children that needed
to be supported and cared for. All Shale left behind was an adoptive mother and
father, and you. Shale was a great bear warrior, one of the finest, and his
unfortunate demise will cause sadness to those he held dear, but we are at war.
There is no time for us to be grieving like children over someone who fell down
the side of the mountain. We did not find him, and our days of searching are
over. So are yours. Now stand up-”
A cry went out as an arrow shot from the bush, embedding itself into the leg of
one of the mounted men. The others drew their swords at the same time that
Aldric let go of Rezule to come to the aid of his men. All was utter chaos in
mere seconds. The horses reared and screeched as twenty men came crashing
through the trees on their own mounts, swords glinting in the evening light.
Rezule tried to scrambled out of the way of being trampled, but his legs were
still tied and him squirming like a worm and only able to use his hands to
maneuver was no where near fast enough. A blast of magic sent the enemies'
horses skittering and falling as they reached Rezule. He wasn’t trampled but
some came close and he was lucky he wasn’t hit with a stray hoof as they fell
around him.
War cries and commands mixed with the scared screams of horses rang through the
trees and echoed off of the rock wall in a cacophony of noise. Rezule’s panic
skyrocketed as his cold hands slipped on the tight twists of the bolas that
secured his legs. He didn’t have any weapon and he doubted he was in any state
to summon his magic on command. He was a sitting duck in the middle of a war
zone. He had to keep wiping snow out of his eyes as forces of magic kicked up
the layer of white and whipped it around them. Rezule could hardly see, he
could no longer feel the rope beneath his fingers his hands were so frozen. His
panic gave way to hysterics where he gave up on the knots and focused on
wiggling his feet free and clawing at the rope and the weights it was tied to.
Instant relief washed though him when the rope suddenly loosened and he could
spread his feet enough to remove them from the rope coil. He was almost back to
his feet when someone grabbed him roughly and flung them over their shoulder.
Where Aldric was tall and appealingly broad, the one who grabbed him was built
like an ox. Rezule could barely breath, much less wiggle out of the man’s
grasp.
The man had nearly succeeded in spiriting Rezule away into the trees when one
of the men from the keep saw them. He was nearest, but easily fifty yards away,
not enough time to do much of anything but watch Rezule be taken. To Rezule’s
horror the man took his sword and threw it.
Rezule closed his eyes. How humiliating, to die in battle with not injury flung
over another man’s shoulder. He waited for the blade to hit the both of them
when the man beneath him staggered and let go of Rezule. Rezule dropped to the
ground with barely enough time to roll away as the mountain of a man came
crashing down into the mix of snow and brambles. A sword stuck out of his lower
back that glowed with magic. The magic faded until just the iron sword remained
and Rezule used his remaining adrenaline to stand and lean against a tree.
The warrior that had thrown the sword was the first to appear, drawing his
sword out of the dead southern soldier’s back and cleaning it on the snow and
then with the edge of his cloak, then giving Rezule a once over.
“Are you alright?”
Rezule nodded, but his legs started to give out and he slid against the tree to
sit at its base. He had been so close to dying and he had been so accepting of
it. He’d fought that huge man’s hold but had balked and been still when that
blade had been in the air. The memory sent chills down him.
The northern soldier was now crouched in front of him so they were eye level.
Rezule removed his gaze from his hands and was surprised to see the face in
front of him was very young, nearly the same age as him, maybe younger. Dark
blonde hair hung in his eyes like an unruly forelock and his cheeks were
pleasantly rosy and round. “I didn’t mean ta’ scare yah that bad. Just that I
couldn’t be letting ‘im get away with yah now could I. Aldric would ‘ave my
head.”
He grabbed Rezule’s arm gently and assisted him with standing, even brushing
the snow off of his robes and pants. Not one to enjoy being coddled, Rezule
ripped his arm out of the man’s grip and pushed away his hands.
“I’m fine now.”
“Well yah donna look it. You ‘ave blood on your chin and are as pale as the
snow--”
“Faun.” Aldric had approached them, unnoticed through the trees. “Leave him
be.”
Rezule was glad for the intervention, although Faun’s lilting voice had soothed
his nerves.
“Your pony found us, and we must head back to the keep or else we will be
riding all night.”
 
They walked back to the group and indeed, Wicka did look like a pony next to
all of the Cayphaellian chargers and the six tall black steeds. Out of the
twenty, three Cayphaellian soldiers sat tied to their mounts and were still
breathing. Fourteen of the chargers were standing and sound, the rest had been
put down. Two of the dark robed soldiers were already herding them back toward
the keep.
Rezule swung his leg up on Wicka and followed Aldric’s horse at a walk. The sun
was almost gone now, covering the snow in a gold sheen as the last of it rays
stretched above the mountain range and the temperature dropped considerably.
Rezule kept having to put his hands underneath his thighs to warm them between
his own body heat and Wicka’s back.
Rezule was in one of these sessions when Faun trotted up beside him.
“Hands cold?”
Rezule immediately removed his hand and wrapped it back around his makeshift
reins. “No.”
Without warning, Faun leaned down and grabbed one of Rezule’s hands, cupping
the fist that still held onto the rein. Instant warmth flooded up his arms and
his whole body felt comfortably warm. His toes defrosted to where he could feel
them again and even his other hand felt like it was basking in warm sunlight.
“How... How did you..?”
Faun chuckled and lifted up his hands letting playful blue sparks twirl off his
wiggling fingers, “Magic.”
“Faun.” Aldric’s commanding voice had the spark dispersing into the air and an
obvious blush rose up Faun’s face.
“Yes, sir?”
“Go ahead and make sure Arjax and Crick don’t need any help with the horses or
prisoners.”
“Yes, sir.”
As Faun’s horse trotted ahead Aldric slowed his mount and moved to walk beside
Rezule. Rezule eyed him suspiciously but he didn’t talk at first, not until
Rezule relaxed a bit.
“He used to be like Sheera, you know.”
Rezule let the silence hang a bit before responding.
“Shale told me a little bit about you,” When Aldric lifted an eyebrow at that,
Rezule clarified quickly, “About the Dark order. How some used to be healers
but they witnessed or had too much to do with death.”
Aldric nodded at this, “There was a disease that ripped through Faun’s home
village. He went back to help with another group of healers but they could do
little to help anyone. It spread and killed swiftly. They had managed to
contain the disease in a neighboring village but they could not determine how
the disease spread, whether it was on clothes or in the very air. They burnt
both the villages to the ground. Everyone and everything was killed and burned,
even those not showing symptoms. Faun was one who performed mercy killings so
no being had to know the feeling of being burnt alive.”
Rezule was a little shocked by the story, and found his eyes searching for the
darker mop of hair in the soldiers that rode in front. Faun was easy to spot,
his horse trotting lazily and him laughing at something one of the other
soldiers had said.
“Then why is he so happy?” Rezule had surprised himself that he had spoken the
words out loud and even more by the small smile that Aldric gave him.
“He has been retrained in the Dark order, and in that retraining he has dealt
with his demons of his past. He’s learned to live past them even though he can
no longer heal with his magic. The darkness doesn’t destroy us nor does it make
us stronger. It just makes it a bit harder to find ourselves again.”
Aldric’s words had trailed off with his last sentence and his gaze remained
aloof and on the trees ahead. Rezule was itching to know more, but he kept his
mouth shut out of stubbornness and the rest of the ride home was a silent one.
*********
There was a well sized greeting party awaiting them when they reached the keep.
Black and white robes mixed together like river stones as they watched the dark
clad men, and captured Cayphaellian soldiers and horses, come up the road. The
three horses with the prisoners were halted and stable boys came to fetch the
horses as the northern soldiers were cut from the saddles and swung to the
ground by members of the dark order and lead into the keep.
Rezule had been watching with interest, but was brought out of his observations
and thoughts by the spine curling feeling of someone grabbing his ear and
pulling him off his horse. Luckily he had no saddle on so he slid off Wicka
easily and a stable boy immediately grabbed her halter to lead her off, leaving
Rezule alone to face the read face of a very angry women.
Sheera did not wear anger well. Her pale eyes and platinum hair contrasted
darkly with her cherry coloured face and her scowl gave her frown lines. She
didn’t loosen her grip as she laid into him, “I can’t believe you! Not only did
you disappear for an entire night and had me looking all over the damn castle
for you but then I have to hear from the stable lead that you had gone
gallivanting off to somewhere for the entire day with no hide nor hair as to
any clue where you’d gone off to.” She paused to take a breath and swing her
hand out in exasperation. “Then I have to here from the scout that you’d been
attacked and could have been kidnapped and --oh, Rezule, you’re bleeding.” Her
anger died instantly and she raised her fingers and touched his chin gently,
rubbing her thumb on her forefinger as it came away from his face bloodied.
“It’s just a scratch, Sheera.”
Both her hands now rested on his shoulders and her complexion was now returning
to normal. “You’re not hurt anywhere else, are you?”
“No, I’m fine. Really Sheera,” his voice was sincere enough that she didn’t go
through the motions to check his body to make sure he was telling the truth.
Shock was a bit of an understatement when Sheera enveloped Rezule in a tight
hug, her arms wrapped around his shoulders. He slowly put his hands at her
waist and hugged her back, noticing the way she relaxed.
Rezule yawned, deep and long, covering his mouth his with hand as he pulled
away from their embrace.
Sheera grabbed him by the arm gently and walked with him into the keep. She
made sure he ate all his food then sent him to bed.
Rezule took her mothering in stride and fell into the bed absolutely exhausted
and was instantly asleep.
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