Page 117
Story: The Arrow and the Alder
“I don’t suppose you’ve scried anything that might be able to help,” Seph said.
Rasia shook her head, and as if the saints were conspiring to punctuate Seph’s present futility, a great boom shook the cavern. Both Seph and Rasia glanced up to see a black cloud of smoke billowing from the veranda where the elders worked. Explosions had become a common occurrence as the elders tried different methods to extract the light from the coat.
“I suppose we should all be thankful they haven’t collapsed Velentis with those blasts,” Rasia mused.
Seph sighed. “Can you scry Alder?” It was a question she’d asked Rasia often these past three weeks, but Rasia never complained.
The girl stopped kicking her ankles and those unique lavender eyes rolled back to whites. Her head tipped to the side very much like a bird, and then the lavender reappeared. A small smile touched her lips. “He is working with some of Lord Hammerfell’s warriors in a training yard.”
From Rasia, they had learned that Alder’s mission had been fruitful and that Lord Hammerfell agreed to join forces with them and bring down Massie and his witch once and for all. But Alder hadn’t been able to come back to Velentis—not yet. There remained a few powerful kith Lord Hammerfell wished to recruit.
Still, Seph wished she could borrow Rasia’s ability right then—just to see Alder.
“Do you know,” Rasia continued thoughtfully, “I think I might understand why you look at him the way that you do. He is very striking, even for a kith. He is not wearing a tunic right now, and with his height, he looks a bit like a god walking amongst his creation.”
Seph couldn’t help but smile, and she felt a sharp pang in her heart because she missed him. Dreadfully. It was alarming, really, the extent to which she craved his company. Even his arrogance. Especially his arrogance.
“He wears the necklace you gave him, by the way, and he writes to you almost every night,” Rasia said suddenly.
Seph had just set another arrow, but at this unexpected proclamation, glanced back at Rasia. “He’s writing…letters?”
“He can’t send them, of course,” Rasia replied. “But it is how he talks to you in your absence. I do believe he is storing them up to give to you when he returns.”
Seph was still affected by the letter he’d given her, and she’d worn its creases soft with the many times she’d read it. To think that he was writing more…
“Can you read what they say?” Seph asked, unable to help herself.
“Let me see…” Rasia’s eyes became whites again as she stared into the space that only she could see. “Ah, there is one upon his desk now.”
“And you’re certain it’s for me?”
“Are you hislittle arrow?” Rasia asked.
Seph grinned. “I am.”
Rasia nodded, eyes still white, and Seph imagined her scanning the letter’s contents. “I do not want to spoil the contents entirely, but his letter is very beautiful. He is quite in love with you, princess, and he cannot stop thinking about you and your…oh. Oh, my.” Rasia’s cheeks colored. “He…well.” She coughed, her eyes shuttered lavender again, and she wouldn’t meet Seph’s gaze. “Your prince has quite an imagination.”
Rasia looked so embarrassed, Seph didn’t ask her to elaborate. She’d wait to read his letter in person.
“Yes, the Weald Prince has always possessed a vivid imagination. It’s why he’s never been able to settle down,” Serinbor said suddenly, striding down the steps and into the empty training yard.
Seph drew up straight. “Serinbor,” she said stiffly.
“Princess.” He tipped his head. “Aren’t you supposed to be resting your arm?” He nodded at the bow in her hands.
Seph did not appreciate being told what to do, especially by Serinbor. He wasn’t as friendly as he’d been initially, and she suspected it had everything to do with her affections for Alder.
Uncharitable, indeed.
And Seph felt a growing defensiveness for Alder with every snide remark Serinbor made in Alder’s absence.
She turned away from him, set her arrow, and made a show of drawing it back. “Is there something you needed, Serinbor?”
The little glowing orb appeared, and she shot it—and the next three—in quick succession. She paid for this little act of rebellion with a sharp pang in her shoulder, though she steeled her expression. She wouldn’t give Serinbor the satisfaction.
“Your elders would like a word,” he said.
“This wouldn’t have anything to do with the explosion we heard a moment ago…?” She cast a knowing glance at Rasia, who grinned.
Rasia shook her head, and as if the saints were conspiring to punctuate Seph’s present futility, a great boom shook the cavern. Both Seph and Rasia glanced up to see a black cloud of smoke billowing from the veranda where the elders worked. Explosions had become a common occurrence as the elders tried different methods to extract the light from the coat.
“I suppose we should all be thankful they haven’t collapsed Velentis with those blasts,” Rasia mused.
Seph sighed. “Can you scry Alder?” It was a question she’d asked Rasia often these past three weeks, but Rasia never complained.
The girl stopped kicking her ankles and those unique lavender eyes rolled back to whites. Her head tipped to the side very much like a bird, and then the lavender reappeared. A small smile touched her lips. “He is working with some of Lord Hammerfell’s warriors in a training yard.”
From Rasia, they had learned that Alder’s mission had been fruitful and that Lord Hammerfell agreed to join forces with them and bring down Massie and his witch once and for all. But Alder hadn’t been able to come back to Velentis—not yet. There remained a few powerful kith Lord Hammerfell wished to recruit.
Still, Seph wished she could borrow Rasia’s ability right then—just to see Alder.
“Do you know,” Rasia continued thoughtfully, “I think I might understand why you look at him the way that you do. He is very striking, even for a kith. He is not wearing a tunic right now, and with his height, he looks a bit like a god walking amongst his creation.”
Seph couldn’t help but smile, and she felt a sharp pang in her heart because she missed him. Dreadfully. It was alarming, really, the extent to which she craved his company. Even his arrogance. Especially his arrogance.
“He wears the necklace you gave him, by the way, and he writes to you almost every night,” Rasia said suddenly.
Seph had just set another arrow, but at this unexpected proclamation, glanced back at Rasia. “He’s writing…letters?”
“He can’t send them, of course,” Rasia replied. “But it is how he talks to you in your absence. I do believe he is storing them up to give to you when he returns.”
Seph was still affected by the letter he’d given her, and she’d worn its creases soft with the many times she’d read it. To think that he was writing more…
“Can you read what they say?” Seph asked, unable to help herself.
“Let me see…” Rasia’s eyes became whites again as she stared into the space that only she could see. “Ah, there is one upon his desk now.”
“And you’re certain it’s for me?”
“Are you hislittle arrow?” Rasia asked.
Seph grinned. “I am.”
Rasia nodded, eyes still white, and Seph imagined her scanning the letter’s contents. “I do not want to spoil the contents entirely, but his letter is very beautiful. He is quite in love with you, princess, and he cannot stop thinking about you and your…oh. Oh, my.” Rasia’s cheeks colored. “He…well.” She coughed, her eyes shuttered lavender again, and she wouldn’t meet Seph’s gaze. “Your prince has quite an imagination.”
Rasia looked so embarrassed, Seph didn’t ask her to elaborate. She’d wait to read his letter in person.
“Yes, the Weald Prince has always possessed a vivid imagination. It’s why he’s never been able to settle down,” Serinbor said suddenly, striding down the steps and into the empty training yard.
Seph drew up straight. “Serinbor,” she said stiffly.
“Princess.” He tipped his head. “Aren’t you supposed to be resting your arm?” He nodded at the bow in her hands.
Seph did not appreciate being told what to do, especially by Serinbor. He wasn’t as friendly as he’d been initially, and she suspected it had everything to do with her affections for Alder.
Uncharitable, indeed.
And Seph felt a growing defensiveness for Alder with every snide remark Serinbor made in Alder’s absence.
She turned away from him, set her arrow, and made a show of drawing it back. “Is there something you needed, Serinbor?”
The little glowing orb appeared, and she shot it—and the next three—in quick succession. She paid for this little act of rebellion with a sharp pang in her shoulder, though she steeled her expression. She wouldn’t give Serinbor the satisfaction.
“Your elders would like a word,” he said.
“This wouldn’t have anything to do with the explosion we heard a moment ago…?” She cast a knowing glance at Rasia, who grinned.
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