The waking of storm and.., p.2
The Waking of Storm and Flame, page 2
“Good evening my lady, to what do I owe the honor at a late hour such as this?” Avery seemed a bit confused, it wasn’t like Alira to be outside her chambers after the dinner hour. The waning daylight reflected off the gold plating of his ducal guard armor that gave the impression he was a warrior of old.
“Lieutenant, is my brother inside? I very much desire to speak with him.”
Avery straightened up a bit at the question as if he hesitated to give her a response. “He asked not to be disturbed, less it be an emergency.” Avery’s worst fear was coming next, he knew she wouldn’t take no for an answer.
“Then this is an emergency.”
“Alira...”
“What? Avery I’m serious this time!”
“Then what’s the emergency?”
“Ahem, that is–uh–privileged information.”
“Alira...” Avery tried to coax it out of her. He wasn’t going to be tricked again after he was given an extra duty watch from last time she forced him to disregard her brother’s orders.
“Well, do you want to be the one to tell him why this urgent information didn’t reach him in time? I didn’t think so, now open the door.”
He hesitated but ultimately acquiesced to her request. After all, if it wasn’t truly urgent, she would likely bear the brunt of it worse than he would. The doors swung open to reveal a warm study, the room bathed in a soft glow from the fire crackling at the back. The walls were adorned with tapestries of green and gold, the proud colors of the Verbrandt house. Mounted weapons from different eras of Namelle’s history hung among them, alongside the preserved heads of animals from her brother’s many hunts.
“Duke Verbrandt,” Avery announced. “Your sister presents herself with what she deems is urgent information.”
Cael scrawled the last words onto a letter before he held it up and waved it to dry the fresh ink. As he did, he looked over the parchment to see Alira, who held a book in her arms, and a half-choked Avery worried about the duke’s reprimand for another of Alira’s requests. He folded the letter over, poured wax onto it and stamped it with the golden lion symbol of his family.
“Get these to the Ravenmaster tonight. If you have to wake him, please let him know he’ll be compensated.” The ducal guardsman who stood beside Cael placed the latter in a bag with another five or six that Alira could see from the doorway. He sealed the bag and left the study.
“What is it, Alira?” he asked with a stern expression, placing his quill on its holder at the front of the desk.
“Cael, it’s just dawned on me that-”
“It has something to do with that old book again...”
“Well, yes, but listen.”
Cael sighed as he sat back into his chair. “I should have known, it’s always the same.” He waved his hand to Avery to close the door behind him. Avery shot Alira a glance with a stupid smirk on his face. She had gotten what she wanted, now she was going to pay for it. The latch on the door closed with a loud metal clang. Alira shuttered and her teeth clenched. She knew Avery wanted the noise to resound so that an uncomfortable silence would fill the room.
“Cael, look here.” She walked the book over to his desk and opened Joren’s record. “You see this, it’s the first record after the cataclysm. The moment of our world’s history.”
“Alira,” Cael replied with a weary sigh, “you’ve read this to me a thousand times...”
“Just listen, what if the keepers didn’t want us to remember? What if this is the first and only record of the Cataclysm because they wanted to hide the truth from us? What if they wanted it to die with the past?”
“You’ve been spending too much time in the archives again, Alira. We’ve gone over this, what happened in our past isn’t more than what you believe it to be. The more time you spend pouring over the world other’s lived in, the less you stay grounded in your own. For your sake Alira, I hope you choose this one.”
Disappointment flashed across her face, and she didn’t bother to hide it. Every theory she had proposed about their history was met with the same dismissal. Cael was rooted firmly in the present, a man who no longer indulged in the flights of fancy they had once shared as children. To him, Alira was still lost in her fantasies, unable to let go of the enchanting stories that had captured a youthful imagination.
“You do this every time. Do you not see that this might be real? Everything that’s written here validates it.” She protested and pointed out the passage about the Archon, the verse in the poem which held her attention the most.
“Alira, it’s late. Far too late for things like this. There are more pressing matters that require our attention, so I suggest you focus on something else.” Cael closed the cover of the book over with no desire to entertain her any further.
“Fine,” she said, red faced and angered. She reached for the book and Cael pulled it back. “Give it back!”
“You can have it again tomorrow. If I give it back to you, it’s going to keep you up all night.” Her head might clear up if she got some sleep. Flustered, Alira stormed out of the study. Her theories had to wait until the morning.
Cael sat back and readied himself to leave, unsure of when he locked himself away. As he cleared away the things off his desk, he couldn’t help but notice a faint light which emanated from his desk drawer. As he opened it, the box which contained his father’s old ring had a slight glow that emanated from within. As he opened it, the ring’s orange gemstone held a slight glow before it faded back into its normal luster.
He removed the old ring from the box and slipped it onto his hand. Cael admired it, the way the iron band set it apart from other, more intricate pieces and he noted how comfortable it felt. The simplistic iron band seemed out of place, even when his father wore it. It was far different than any of the ornate jewelry of Namelle and far less than those made by the expert craftsmen in the eastern lands of Reyvia and Shiun. It had remained locked away for too long and Cael decided he would wear it, at least for the night. He would have to replace it in the morning, before Alira came to him with a new theory or to reclaim her kept property.
“Lieutenant,” Cael called out. Avery entered and waited for the duke’s command. “I’ve decided to retire for the evening, will you walk with me?”
“Of course, my lord.” Avery peered back out into the sanctum where two other guardsmen waited. “Could both of you please pass on my compliments to Lieutenant Kriel. Inform him that watch turnover will take place on the battlement adjacent the duke’s quarters.” The guardsmen acknowledged the order and marched off to the barracks.
Cael left the study, turning a small, metal key in its lock to secure the door. He didn’t believe that any of the castle’s older attendants would steal from him, but there were children about—far more mischievous than they should be at times. As he and Avery walked away from the dimly lit sanctum, illuminated now only by a few scattered braziers, Cael’s thoughts turned inward.
“I need to ask you something Avery,” Cael said as the pair walked through the hallway past the open courtyard. “My sister, I’d like to ask your opinion of her.”
“My lord, I fail to take the meaning of your question. If you infer that our relationship is anything more than platonic I assure you we are but the oldest of friends.”
“Nothing of the sort.” Cael sat against the bottom of a stone window that overlooked the old tree in the courtyard below. “See here, the great tree of our city. It has been a part of Namelle my entire life and yet it continues to thrive year after year. Regardless of spring flourish or autumn decay, it endures. The same cannot be said for my sister.”
“Do you want me to give you the answer you’re seeking Cael, or an honest one?”
“As honest as you can make it, if you please.”
Avery sat on the window well with him, his hands rested on his knees. “Alira is... well, Alira. She spends far too much time alone in the company of her books.”
“I don’t disagree with you.”
“But,” Avery continued, “I don’t fault her for it. Consider the life she’s had—lavish and safe by most standards, yes, but she also lost both your parents within a few short years. By blood, you were forced into your role as duke and guardian of Aenne Aelle. Whether you wanted it or not, you found your place.” Avery stood and walked to the opposite window, gazing out over the grasslands to the south. “Zahra chose another path, building her own legacy in the Royal Army, earning praise and accolades. But Alira... she’s still searching. She hasn’t found her path yet.”
“You’re saying it’s because she’s lost then? Directionless?” Cael asked.
“I’m saying that I think she’s trying to find her own identity. With the two of you worrying about the present and the future, her only chance to find it is in our history.” He turned around to look at Cael, “I think somewhere in those old stories, she’s searching for herself.”
Cael hung his head and then nodded. “I think you’re right and I appreciate your council, old friend.” He stood up from the window and contemplated Avery’s view. “Life hasn’t been kind to Alira. I know duty often keeps me from the life I wish I could lead, one in which I could re-kindle our bond. If something should ever happen to me, watch over her. She might never believe it, but if something were to ever happen to Alira... I would never be the same again. She exists as a part of me in a way words cannot explain.”
Avery agreed and put his hand on Cael’s shoulder to reassure him. “I’m sure that she feels the same way about you, even if she isn’t always the best at expressing it.” Cael and Avery, the best of friends since their youngest years, and the brother which neither of them ever had.
“Part of me believes I hold her too close to my chest, often to the detriment of her desires. Another, is afraid that if I allow her to stray, I’ll lose her too.”
“I understand,” Avery replied. “But you’re walking a thin line. Be careful, Cael. If you keep her guarded too long, you may lose her all the same.”
The pair continued walking toward the duke’s quarters near the officers' barracks. Avery bid Cael a good night and then turned down a nearby passage, heading for the wall.
“I saw her in tears, Cael. What did you say to her?”
Cael’s heart jumped as Zahra’s voice startled him from a chair inside his room. It was a talent she possessed and one he fell victim to, far too often. He took a few steps into the chamber to a small decanter on his table. He needed a drink if he was going to make it through another of his sister’s inquisitions.
“It’s her twenty-fifth year Zahra, it’s time she starts to realize that—”
“That what? It’s time to put behind her that only thing in her life which has any meaning?” Zahra closed of the door to the chamber. “You keep her pent up in this castle. You spurn her any time she has grasped even a sliver of hope for herself. Yet you tell Avery you are conflicted.”
Cael barely had time to react before Zahra strode across the room and slapped the cup of wine from his hand. The dark liquid spilled across the stone floor.
“You are losing her, Cael, and if you don’t right this course before it’s too late, someday she’ll be gone forever.”
“I have tried, Zahra. Do not lecture me on Alira, for I know more than you will ever know about her.” Cael locked eyes with Zahra and noticed the green glow in her left eye, more pronounced than usual. A mirror of her heart’s anger.
“I see, this again. We share a childhood, but not blood. That is not but your own fabricated merit if you think you know anything more about her than I do.”
“Zahra, please-”
“No. Who taught her to ride a horse, Cael? Who teaches her how to fight? Who is the only one who encourages her? You’ll never know how excited she was to share what she found with you, and how much it hurt her for you to dismiss her.”
“Encouragement is it? You offer her nothing but false hope. Alira is no warrior. She is a lady of the court, and by my thinning graces she is still a scholar.” Cael thrust a lecturing finger out toward his sister. “Do not doubt the love I have for her Zahra, even if I show it in a different manner than you.”
Zahra lifted her hand, placed it on top of his and lowered it. Cael knew that they both had Alira’s best interests at heart, and were running the same race, even if they took different ways of getting there.
“I don’t want to fight with you, brother, but I want you to hear me. She is not Zahra Ke’elle, and you can’t approach things with her the same way as you do with me.” She folded her arms against her chest and leaned back against the wall. “She’s not lived the same life as you and I.” She hung her head and whispered under her breath, “I pray she never has to.”
Cael closed his eyes and took a deep breath to release the pent-up aggression. “Where did I go wrong, Zahra?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Zahra shook her head and Cael turned away from her. “What does matter is where you go from here. She won’t be kept forever.” Zahra opened the door of his chamber and stepped out. “She’s your sister, Cael. I hope you remember that before it's too late.” Zahra turned away and disappeared down the hall. He stood, silent, in the doorway as the sound of Zahra’s boots trailed off around the corner.
Cael shut the door behind her and hadn’t realized until that moment that Hikari, his duchess, hadn’t been in bed where he expected to find her. He sat on the end of the turned-down bed and removed his boots. Cael slipped off his tunic and pants, left them on hooks for the attendants in the morning and then laid back.
The softness of his bed enveloped him, and Cael sank deeper into it. The warmth of the fireplace always lulled him off to sleep and, owing to his lingering longer in his study, the roar was more of a whimper. Its embers kept the room lit enough to see around in the dim light as his eyelids grew heavy. His fingers traced over the ring, which he forgot to take off, but was far too comfortable to worry about it.
The light receded in his eyes, and he embraced a welcome rest. As he drifted deeper into a restful sleep, the stone on his ring began to glow again.
* * *
Cael’s eyes opened to a clearing bathed in the pale glow of the moon. A light veil of clouds dimmed the stars, distant and scattered like memories from another life. This was the great clearing of the old forest—a sacred place that had connected the ruling family of Tirelle, the capital of Aenne Aelle, to their goddess for time immemorial. The garden was alive with flowers of white and purple, their golden centers signifying the divine presence, mixed among the flowers of the three noble houses. Flowers like these grew across the continent, but Cael hadn’t seen this place since he was a child.
Though much of the Nemesian continent had forsaken the gods they once believed were shepherds guiding humanity to a better future, the Verbrandt family remained faithful. They clung to the ancient world’s singular record of the gods’ innocence.
Cael approached the great fountain, its waters shimmering under the moonlight. He climbed the marble stairs surrounding it and dipped his fingers into the cool water. A rush of memories filled him—the comfort of the water wrapped around his hand, just as it had when he was a boy. He closed his eyes, recalling the days when his mother would walk here with him. He could still see her smile, hear her voice. He would give anything to hear her sing him to sleep one more time.
Why was he here? Why was he given a sense of calm, and shown these memories, leveraged as a port in a storm?
Cael was pulled out of the past and noted that things weren’t the way he once knew them. The water on the fountain no longer danced, the life and color in the flowers had been sapped, the altar was stripped of its precious, white marble and showed signs of corrosion and decay. Many parts of the garden were overgrown, a shell of its former beauty.
Faint footsteps echoed through the clearing, growing louder with each passing moment. Someone approached, walking with a light, steady pace. The sound of metal scraping against stone sent a shiver down Cael’s spine. The figure that emerged was slender, draped in a cloak of dark green and gold—the colors of House Verbrandt. The golden armor they wore bore the marks of battle, four deep claw marks slashed across the breastplate. Cael’s blood ran cold; only one creature in Nemesia could leave such scars, and there was only one person he knew who had survived that nightmare.
This was not her, for this warrior’s golden hair cascaded down out of her hood and rested over her pauldron. The figure approached the altar, not acknowledging his presence–and raised their right hand over their heart, fingers spread open. The left hand slipped behind the armor on their torso and the warrior bent forward. A complete motion he knew as the L’Cada, the royal family’s salute and show of respect to their deity. Cael learned this from an early age, and this individual performed it as well as he did.
The stranger then placed their hands down onto their knees and, with a slight tremble of reverence, they knelt. The figure looked up and Cael saw their lips move as though they conversed with something he couldn’t see. Cael grew frustrated with each second that passed, unable to hear which was said. The stranger reached up and pulled back her hood. The removal of the veil unmasked her identity. Alira Verbrandt, who knelt before a being he couldn’t perceive.
He couldn’t understand why he was shown this. A naivety and sadness were worn on her face. Cael felt connected to her pain, as though his mind were one with his sister’s. He felt her pulse quicken and a felt a wave of coldness and confusion wash over her. Her hands shook, hands which wore the Ring of Terra in a full, glowing brilliance which resonated brighter than he had ever noticed it before. As Cael looked down, he saw ring had betrayed him to his sister and wondered how she came to possess it.
Her eyes were freed from that which they had been locked on to. Cael watched her rise and walk back down the steps toward the entrance to the clearing. Unable to grab Alira’s attention, he called out her name again and again. His hope faded until she turned to look in his direction. He called her name one final time as she turned away and slipped into the forest.
