Edge, p.8
EDGE, page 8
His mournful appraisal of the land is interrupted by a Sapphire soldier, who clears his throat before giving his report.
“Sir, we have gathered the support of all the elves of Karna. Most did not resist in the least, as you suspected. Only two citizens, that we could see, fled into the forest.” The soldier is sombre as he mentions the runners.
“Who ran?” Flaz asks, his voice full of unmasked concern.
“Two Silver elflings.”
Flaz has many loyal followers. Sadly, he notes that many elves here are doing his bidding out of fear of repercussions. He hates that. He wishes more for the citizens of Zoriya.
“What a tragic thing, I hope they survive. They’ve suffered enough pain at the hands of their leaders.” The king looks back out at the desolate landscape as dark clouds gather.
“Let’s find out how Ediv is doing. I hope he is less inclined to violence today.” The king’s face bore grim features in the weeks following his exchange with Dola. He hopes the hunt fares well. Especially for Gati, Niha, Naly, Ilva, and Vali.
It’s a long walk down the tower stair, through the long corridors, through the entry hall, and finally to the cellar stairwell. The king’s long cape sweeps each stair behind him, his feet sure as he delicately places each heel. His hand barely touches the railings as he glides gently and gracefully from the highest point in the castle to the very bottom of the basement.
In the unnecessarily massive dungeons, a long corridor of cells stretches deep and dark. At the last door, which is heavily guarded, Ediv hangs in chains. His body slumps forward on the cold cement, his arms hyperextend overhead, and the cuffs cut into his wrists.
There are permanent bloody rings around the cuffs, and he has no idea how much time has passed. There is no light down here and the soldiers rarely speak to him. On occasion, he would get them to chat with him, but never about anything of import. They’re cautious. Intelligent enough to know that Ediv is someone they cannot trust.
Ediv hears dainty footsteps and knows Flaz is coming. He thinks, uncharacteristically, of how much he would love for any true hint of fear to grace Flaz’s ocean eyes. To get him to slip just once, and watch the too-graceful king falter. Do I want that for the one I’ve loved since I was an elfling? What is wrong with me? That’s not what I want at all! My head. It hurts.
“To what do I owe this visit, King of Cowards?” Ediv rolls his head enough for Flaz to see his face as he smiles smugly. Acting like he does not care that he is bound, bloody, and on the verge of throwing up from the pain in his ribs. Contorted into this demeanour by shuddering impulses he does not understand.
“I trust you are enjoying your stay? You do seem to be a glutton for punishment.” The king speaks in a lofty voice. “Why are you still fighting, Ediv? Where’s the elf who saved us all those years ago? Why did you marry Syli if you didn’t love her? Why did you pledge your loyalty to Dola and Alix? Why did you come to Vipsca and strike that deal with me if you had no actual intentions of peace?” The king, full of questions, stares into the eyes of the lord he finds he still loves.
Months before the death of Alix, Ediv had sailed to ask Flaz for help in restoring the balance. He requested he bring his artifacts so they could fuse them and end this war, giving every elf the same power, or none. The lord had put on what Flaz assumes now was a convincing show. Flaz was prepared to help Ediv gather every last artifact, convinced the lord had simply moved on after marrying Syli and having their daughter. He would support them, like the good friend he wanted to be. No matter how much he wished Ediv had chosen him. Until that fateful night that had exposed Ediv as a traitorous cad.
They were a few days into their voyage to Zoriya, and Flaz found Ediv staring at the water under the bow, his eyes glazed and his body tense. In the water below was a Silver Siren. She ordered Ediv to, upon arriving in Zoriya, kill Flaz and take his artifacts. The king hid behind a spar and listened. He learned that Ediv was working under the influence of old magic, and the Silver Sirens were the ones responsible for convincing him to adhere to the call of curses. What he didn’t know was that Ediv secretly hoped Flaz would help him kill these enemies he could not seem to slay.
Flaz wanted to save Ediv, but he didn’t know how. He didn’t even know Silver Sirens were real until that moment. When they arrived in Falil and Ediv received the news about Syli, he barely registered it. Giving her grave a single flower and a short farewell. Barely a hint of grief graced his features. He cried no tears. His aloofness broke Flaz’s heart. He was sure Syli deserved better. But perhaps these Silver Sirens had more influence over the lord than Flaz wanted to believe. All he knew for certain, after seeing the way Ediv responded that night as the dark water swallowed the shining scales of the siren, was that the Silver elves could not be trusted.
He tried again to appeal to his long-time crush. “I miss the intimacy we once shared. I miss being your friend and not just your ally. I miss seeing the good in you.”
Ediv rolls his eyes toward Flaz. “I have no interest in sharing anything intimately with you ever again.”
That is definitely not you. How do I reach you? “Oh yes, that cuts deep, far deeper than the decades of pining. Say it again, only with more aggression.” The king crouches before Ediv, tilting his head so their faces are parallel, longing shining in his watery eyes. How do I break this curse on you?
Ediv attempts to headbutt Flaz, who dips back easily and readjusts the folds of his satin sky-coloured skirts. “Whatever is going on, Ediv, I want to help. But I cannot save you if you do not fight for your own salvation.”
Ediv shows no emotion. But a single tear drips from his eye.
Flaz searches the lord’s deep blue eye. Noting the tear, he hopes he is reaching him.
Ediv, slipping into madness in his mind, still manages to appear aloof on the surface. He is stuck in a cycle and no one is the wiser.
No one except for Flaz. The one person who can pass through the veil of the curse. The only one who can recognize that this is not his will. His first love.
Help.
Me.
Ediv kicks away a stool Flaz tries to offer him for comfort. Every attempt to ease his suffering is in vain. Flaz cannot release the lord from these insufferable bonds, for he has become a liability. He takes lives without woe whenever Flaz offers him his freedom, destroying the peace that Zoriya is trying to broker. He is locked up here for everyone’s safety, including his own, and Ediv knows that. So when he is in his right mind, he does not fight the binds. He fights the charity. For he assumes, with the way he is now, that he deserves none.
Flaz clicks his tongue as he stands. “I would still love for you to keep your word and unite our kingdoms. I know you are stronger than whatever is making you like this.” Flaz dramatically gestures to the lord. “I know you’re still in there, Ediv, and I still love you.” His tone moves from agitated to sensual.
Butterflies flutter in Ediv’s stomach at these words, despite still wearing a stoic and rigid expression. “Do me a favour?”
“Anything.” A flicker of hope graces the king’s feminine face.
“Let me die without having to endure another one of these visits.” A cruel grin cuts its way onto his face. Why is this happening to me? Why am I saying and doing these things? Stop!
Flaz, wounded, storms from the dungeon.
Ediv chuckles darkly as the long cape billows dramatically down the hall.
Save.
Me.
Chapter 24
Vali wishes she could see Ilva now, more than ever, as she discovers who she is. As they remain in the hall of the ebony tower, it feels like everything she knew about her is an illusion. “Did you know you were a deity? Or a witch?” Vali struggles to ask in a calm voice, as her body shivers with emotion.
“No,” Ilva says, staring at Vali with incredulity. Lost in her anxiety and overwhelmed by all the newness, Ilva’s mind is whirling. Her life is becoming a burden of information and responsibility, crushing her, more than it ever did in Falil. She misses the forest. There is nowhere she can go to escape her experiences and growth. She has to come to terms… somehow.
As does Vali. She cannot expect Ilva to have all the answers, and she cannot expect it of anyone else either. I have been a fool. I believed I could just hand over some stones as payment for vision. Ilva, you do not deserve any of the sufferings my choices bring upon us, and you do not need any pressure to relieve me of the burdens I place on our lives through my cyclic behaviours. All because of insecurity and fear. All because I’m blind in the ways that I don’t need to be.
Vali struggles to convert her thoughts into speech. “I’m sorry, Ilva.” Tears threaten to spill from Vali’s eyes. She knows she has to keep trying to talk. Keep trying to choose the right words. I’m sorry still does not feel like enough.
The overload of reality crushes Vali as Ilva snatches a chair from its resting place and drags it over.
When she sits their knees touch. Ilva places a hand on Vali’s. “I forgive everything you have said and done. They’re things I have—on occasion—thought about or even done myself. It’s normal to feel things this deeply. It’s normal to want to blame others sometimes. I have blamed elves for my pain too. My mother. My father. Even you, remember? But you know now that you can expect more from yourself. That you don’t need to worry about anyone’s part in how you feel, except yours. You have everything you need to choose for yourself. You already said everything you need to say. I accept your apology.”
Vali, still wishing she could give more, pulls Ilva’s resting hand to her lips and kisses it. Then she reaches out and strokes Ilva’s cheek and ear with her free hand. She is grateful that she can at least touch Ilva. There are so many elves in her life that have gone unseen, and this is the first time that it has ever truly mattered to her that she can run her fingers along someone’s face to decipher their appearance.
However, questions nag at her: What colour are your eyes? Your hair? Your skin? I don’t even know fully what you are, Ilva, but I love you with everything that I am. That’s kind of amazing, isn’t it—that I can love your energy so much that those little details of your appearance don’t matter?
Vali’s heart quickens when Ilva’s lips brush her thumb in a kiss. She leans in to kiss Ilva, accidentally kissing her eyelid. Ilva laughs lightly and, as Vali retreats, Ilva kisses her chin. They continue pecking random places on each other’s faces, Ilva closes her eyes so that she is as unknowing as Vali, every misplacement intentional and playful. Vali traces her lips along Ilva’s jaw. Moving gently and slowly, giggling as they let their noses touch. Then their lips meet.
After a few gentle sweeps of tongue against tongue, Vali and Ilva press into a firm kiss that loosens slowly as they pull apart.
“I forgot how long it had been. We have not known each other in months.” Ilva stands, pulling Vali’s hand, urging her to follow. Ilva leads her to the ebony and glass stair, which they ascend more hastily with every stride. Child-like grins widen on their faces.
Once behind the hidden door in the dark room, Ilva pulls Vali into a passionate and desperate embrace, lips moving together again, less gently, more hungrily. They pull their clothes off, fabric catching against every joint in their haste.
“Ilva,” Vali moans into her ear.
“Vali,” Ilva mirrors her needful tone.
The two of them slow only when all their clothes have been removed, and their bodies meet. Ilva surprises Vali by reaching her hands around to cup each thigh, lifting her up and resting her legs upon her hips, bringing them both over to the still-unmade bed.
“Oof.” Vali lets out a stunned breath when Ilva dumps her onto the mattress, then she giggles at the switch in their roles.
Ilva watches Vali as the tiny giggles escape her thin mouth. She loves seeing her lover overflowing with joy, radiating pure happiness, positively giddy.
Vali lays naked upon black satin bedsheets, in a room of nothing but jet and coal, her shining raven hair blending into it all, her heavily tanned skin the only contrast in the room apart from Ilva’s stark pale complexion and copper locks. Vali is beginning to wonder if Ilva plans to leave her lying there when her fire-haired lover crawls into the bed. Ilva closes her eyes as she moves up Vali’s legs, sweetly tormenting the skin wherever her lips land.
Ilva’s mouth missing every spot Vali wants it to land drives her crazy, and she moves her hips constantly in an attempt to reach the relief of an orgasm. When she can bear it no longer, she reaches for Ilva’s vibrant hair with needy hands, and guides her to the place she has the strongest desire to have her.
Ilva, deciding Vali has endured enough teasing, allows the gesture. She teases her tongue against Vali, chasing every pulse and shiver as she devours her pleasure. Ilva reaches for her own wetness. Vali, panting heavily, pushes herself farther up the bed. Ilva moves her legs crisscross over Vali’s, and lets their wetness meet. As they caress each other, they begin gasping with every soft grind. Moving faster, swelling with excitement, they finally find the point of pressure that undoes them both.
They lay, legs still entangled and heads on opposite ends of the bed, breathing deeper and deeper.
A normal heart rate eventually resumes. Ilva crawls out from their crisscross heap and curls into Vali, who wraps her arm behind Ilva’s nape and kisses her forehead.
As always, they thank each other for the intimacy.
This time is different, it’s as if their lovemaking has fixed something broken. Healed some pain that had laid between them all these months. They know each other again, and they realize they have always known what they are.
They are love.
Chapter 25
“I am telling you, that tower is at minimum a three-day walk!” Dola thunders.
“And I am telling you, we can be there by the morning if we walk on tonight! We need food and water and we’re likely to get there sooner if we keep going,” Gati yells with just as stormy a voice.
Neither of them have a care for the other’s well-being. They are filled with nothing but frustration and stubbornness. They stomp heavily through the sand, their feet dragging, and the heat beyond blistering. Dola had wrapped her head in her scarves, and Gati wears his tunic around his head.
“If you want to continue on tonight then do so, and I shall step on your corpse as I make my way there safely in three days’ time. I care not for your life, nor the lives of those other two we lost. I can’t even remember their names. Nori? Nalu? Nemu? Whatever.” Dola rolls her eyes and waves a hand dismissively.
“Niha and Naly.” Gati grits his teeth. “Their names were Niha and Naly, and they were the two soldiers in Vipsca that I trusted the most. I just lost the last of the soldiers I call friends out here, and you treat their lives as if they are meaningless. Are you really so petty? Are you really so cold? What in your life could have possibly happened to make you such a royal pain?”
Dola darts her eyes to him with a hint of something sad, but it is gone as quickly as it had appeared. She hopes Gati didn’t see it. “Why should I tell you of my life? So you can use it against me? Not that you could, there is nothing in this world I care about. Not anymore.”
Gati does not care about Dola’s backstory. He does, however, care that her current behaviour is affecting him. And if she brings up the twins in another careless way he doubts he will be able to stop himself from slugging her in the ribs, lady or not.
“Not that it matters to me, but why the lack of trust in your many soldiers? You have scores of elves who obey you, and those two were the only trustworthy ones? I find that quite hard to believe. What exactly were they entrusted with that earned them such devout praise? Were they concubines? Do you really expect me to believe you care about them and not the roles they no longer fill?” Dola heaves as she drags her feet.
“If your life is not up for discussion, then neither is mine,” Gati says crossly.
“Fine. It’s not like I care about your sad little life anyways.” She ensures she is staring straight into his dark eyes when she says it.
“No, I doubt you care for anyone’s life, save your own.” Gati glares daggers right back, eyes filled with what Dola assumes to be a mix of pity and contempt.
She scoffs, “Do not presume, it makes you look stupid.”
They continue on until dusk, not speaking, and they do not stop to set up camp. The last sliver of sunlight leaves the sky, and stars wink to life, brightening the deep dark night. There is no moon tonight.
Great.
Chapter 26
Ilva strolls toward the greenhouse, feeling a great deal better than she has in months. The intimacy had rejuvenated them both. Ilva’s power thrums within her, from her rings down to her toes, each footfall paramount as she prepares for what she must do next.
As she enters the glass room, the Wraith Wan is drifting back and forth in front of a small pine tree at the very end of the rows of produce. Hearing her enter, their hooded head angles in her direction. Ilva cannot help the shiver that runs down her spine.
“I am ready. If I have powers unknown to me, then I must learn about them,” Ilva declares.
“You are brave, Ilva, and your willingness to learn brings me great comfort.” They lift a wispy hand and stroke a weepy branch on the pine tree. “I worry for your companion. She may not sit well with what is about to happen. Both her choices are difficult. Whatever she chooses, she will struggle.”
“She is more resilient than we give her credit for. But I am also worried for her. Always. Because I love her,” Ilva says earnestly.
