Shadows and Embers

by Lindsey Richardson

“Are you ready?” Alaire asked.

  I looked up and the guilt started to sink in again. We stood outside of the guest room. All it took was the turning of a doorknob to reveal the dreaded reality of my actions. It wasn't her fault that she was on that bed or that she hadn't be able to withstand the torture.

  “Ready,” I whispered, hoping that he had not heard my voice crack.

  He creaked open the door and then pushed it so that it was fully ajar. Though he gestured for me to enter first, I declined the offer and followed slowly behind him.

  Gavril stood by Celestria, examining her shoulders. “I've treated the wounds, but her neck and shoulder sustained the most damage. There already seems to be a scar on her shoulder from a previous battle, and I'm afraid the burning will leave permanent damage.”

  “When we first met she was attacked by Aldemund. I took her to a healer as soon as I could,” Alaire explained, wincing.

  Noticing that Celestria's eyes were closed again, I asked, “And what of her chances to survive?”

  Gavril glanced up for a moment, and then he returned to his work, applying yarrow to the shoulder. I recognized it only from watching him use it often on battle wounds.

  “Master, before your family requested my assistance I worked out in the field. Magicians went off to war, and I traveled with them to treat the horrendous injuries they suffered. I've seen the strongest men die from the smallest wounds. Your friend... might not have anything to fight for anymore.”

  Pointing my finger at him, I approached him and said, “Listen, I pay you more than enough for everything you do. If there's a cure, find it. If there's a way, take it. Treat her like one of those soldiers. I cannot bear the thought of losing her forever, understand?”

  He stopped working and looked up at me. “She is my utmost priority, master.”

  Nodding, I turned and led Alaire outside of the room. It was time for one of us to admit that Esmour had been murdered.

  “I've been thinking a lot about Esmour... and how the man behind the murder should be caught for the crime,” I said.

  Alaire sighed. “This is hardly the appropriate time to seek revenge.”

  My body tensed up, but I knew better than to believe that vengeance would fix what we had lost. I had expected Alaire would understand, seeing as him and Esmour had bonded. Instead he stared at me, judging my true intentions.

  Calmly, I tried again. “We never looked further into his death whereas had it been one of us he'd have everyone working. After everything, don't we owe it to him? Both he and Aldemund are dead, and I find it hard to believe that's a coincidence.”

  He rubbed his chin while his eyes glanced around the hallway. When he looked back at me I noticed how swollen his eyes were. Was Celestria the cause of him being more emotional lately?

  “It would be easier if I could blame someone, but I survived by a miracle and now I'm praying that Celestria will too. S-she... she's all that I have, the closest I've had to family, and right now she needs me. If you need to search for a fight to deal with the pain, I won't judge you, but please understand that my place is by her,” Alaire said with his voice shaking.

  “You're falling in love with her...” I gasped, realizing I had spoken the thought out loud.

  He chuckled, sounding relieved. “I never stopped, but this is a secret between me and you.”

  “You haven't told her?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.

  His silence spoke for the words he would not say out loud. I understood -perhaps better than anyone-why he couldn't say those three words. Three words could change everything between two people for better or for worse. Some people had their entire life to tell their significant other, but for us it could all change at any given minute. Perhaps the true reason for him staying was so that he could tell Celestria before it was too late.

  As Alaire turned to enter the room, I asked, “Would she want you to spend all of your time worrying?”

  He stood still for a moment, and then he opened the door and returned to the bedside again. I winced, watching him as he offered to help Gavril, and considered telling him about my encounter with Jacquette. Now would be the worst timing for such ill news, and thus for the second time I tried to ignore the facts that only I knew. For the second time I walked away from telling him the truth he deserved to know.

  ***

  The rain poured down my face as I approached Esmour's house. The sun had set and now dark clouds filled the sky. Nicia's hovel came into sight, but I refused to acknowledge its presence. In all likelihood Rostland hadn't left, and no matter what kind of effect he had on Nicia, I wasn't convinced that his intentions were harmless. Turning my attention to Esmour's house, I was shocked by how normal it looked as if nothing had ever changed. That wasn't the case; everything had started and ended with this house. With the turn of a doorknob, I entered into the house and observed what was left.

  Everything looked exactly as we had left it the night of his death. Alaire had cleaned up the blood, but the broken vase and the food had remained on the floor. I stood by the vase unable to move, remembering the night we found him. The blood had covered him, and the memory alone was enough to make it seem like his blood was smeared across my face again. Kneeling down, I picked up a molded piece of bread. He had been returning home to prepare dinner, but someone had been waiting inside to attack. A surprise... that was what killed him.

  Dropping the bread, I walked across the room and headed for the cellar. I feared more than anything that something of his would be missing, but once I made it to the bottom of the stairs that fear was the least of my worries. All of his books, papers, and journals were as he had left them. For the first time no one was around to guard his precious possessions. I circled around the room, picking up books to read the titles and then returning them to their original positions. It wasn't like Esmour was here and could stop me from digging deeper, but this room had always been his to manage. I felt like I was trespassing, and more than anything I wished Alaire had joined me because he would know the right thing to do.

  Resisting the urge to flip through any of the journals, I focused on the papers that were out in plain sight. One of the first I noticed stood out due to the strange complexity of the paper. Cautiously, I picked it up and took a closer look. The edges of the paper were burned, and it appeared most of the paper had been damaged in some way and then rearranged. The bold words were foreign to me, but there were three words that stood out clearly: “Aldemund,” “fire,” and “Iacobs dorff.”

  “No...” I nearly choked. Nothing else mattered; I had to find Alaire. With the paper in my hand, I dashed up the stairs and ran out of the house. I barely took the time to shut the door entirely as I ran through the pouring rain to return home. As I ran I folded the paper and hid it underneath my vest. If I was lucky it wouldn't be further ruined by the rain.

  “A pretty lady like you can't put up a fight against someone like me,” I had said.

  Iacobs dorff was where I had met Celestria, where I had found her by luck for the second time. We didn't find anyone who could explain why the entire city had been burned down, but now I may hold the key to it. The part that did not factor in was why Esmour would have a paper revealing the events that happened that day before Celestria and I arrived. Had he known it would be burned to the ground and tried to stop it? Or was this one of his secrets that wasn't meant to be uncovered? The questions spun around in my head, but I kept running until I reached my manor and opened the door. One of the maids was cleaning the floor as I entered, causing me to slip and slide across the floor.

  “My apologies, sir!” she said, rushing over to help me up.

  “Never mind me. Where's Alaire?!” I asked, grabbing her hand and jumping up.

  “He's with the lady,” she replied.

  Again I ran up the stairs, ignoring the maid as she warned me about falling. I felt like time was running against me, and if I didn't show this to Alaire as quickly as possible we would lose answers. There had t
o be something I had missed skimming over the paper that would explain what Esmour had known about the fire.

  “Alaire! Alaire!” I shouted. I quickened my speed, but just as I darted into the room Alaire came rushing out and we collided. We both fell back, but I managed to jump up more quickly than him. Impatiently, I held out my hand and helped him up.

  “I'm not fully recovered, you know,” he said, rubbing his sore leg.

  “The fire... The fire...” I panted. When he gave me a puzzled look, I took the paper out of my vest and handed it to him. Gavril glanced up from his work, suggesting that I sit down before I collapse, and I didn't bother arguing with him. I sat down in a chair by the bed, and I tried to remain still to catch my breath. My heart was beating out of my chest enough so that I had to hold my hand against it just to try and calm myself.

  “You found this at Esmour's house?” Alaire asked, looking up from the paper. I nodded slowly, though the motion made me nauseous. At my silence, he remarked, “You ran all the way from Esmour's house to show me this? No wonder you're quiet...”

  I sighed, wondering if he had even taken the time to read it yet. The answers were there on the paper; someone had to know what they meant.

  “Aldemund was involved in a fire of some sort?”

  My faith in him solving the mystery was running short. Taking in a deep breath, I explained, “Iacobs dorff was where Celestria and I met. The entire city had been in ashes by the time we arrived there like someone burned it down.”

  “Burned... on purpose?” Alaire asked, reading over the paper again. Continuing with a frown, he added, “I've never seen these symbols before, but they might be an ancient form of Eldarian. The question is... why would Esmour have this?”

  Just as he finished there was a quivering voice from inside the room that said, “I'm drowning.”

  My eyes darted to the bed, and then I pursued after Alaire into the room to see who had spoken. Celestria's eyes were open, and this time she was looking directly at me, seemingly aware of who I was.

  “I'm drowning,” she squeaked again in a voice that sounded nothing like hers. Alaire knelt by the bed and cupped his hand around hers. Softly, he said, “No, we've brought you home to Neutadt. You're safe now; I promise you that.”

  He was looking at her like he had before we left Daciana. The brightness in his eyes and the full smile on his face was something I had never seen before. Not even Jacquette had ever made him burst into a smile, and it seemed like this was the first time he was truly and entirely alive. For him it seemed that Celestria was a burning and radiant candle; the one light in all of the darkness.

  “Be careful; she might be in shock,” Gavril warned, appearing more grave than before.

  Stepping over to stand by him, I whispered, “If there's something you're hiding from me I'd advise you speak up.”

  Quietly so that only I could hear him, he replied, “I am not a miracle worker, master. Look at her... she's absolutely horrified.”

  I took another look and understood why he was distraught. Celestria could not lay still; her hands shook even while Alaire comforted her. Then her entire body started shaking, and she hit Alaire viciously. He took each blow, looking more heartbroken after each hit.

  “Prop her up and hold onto her. I'll try to settle her down,” Gavril ordered, rushing to the side of the bed.

  Alaire sat on the bed and did as instructed. He held her close to his chest, but she only continued to pound her fists against his body. Though I offered to help, he shook his head and persisted in reassuring Celestria that everything would be alright. Meanwhile Gavril waved his hands in a sequence of motions, and closed his eyes to focus in on his energy. Gradually Celestria stopped moving, and once she came to a complete halt Alaire laid her down.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  Gavril leaned against the wall behind him. “She's scared, and it seems she's reliving the battle. She'll need sleep now after using up all of her energy.”

  Soundlessly, Alaire slid off the bed and into the chair. His face was red, and there were several scratches on his arms from where Celestria's nails had clawed into flesh. Any happiness he felt minutes ago had vanished like his heart had been ripped out. I considered saying something, but anything I would have said he already knew. That hadn't been her attacking him; it was her fears. A single tear rolled down his cheek, and I decided to leave and give him privacy. Without a word, I picked up the paper, which had been dropped on the bed, and carried on out into the hallway. The only legible words sent a chill down my spine, and I wondered if someone else had been in Iacobs dorff at the same time as Celestria and I. The man behind the crime could have been there, and somehow we had never noticed.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Punishment for Eternity

  Drowning is an inescapable death. Your lungs burn for oxygen, your body tenses from the sting, but you never have the chance to reach the surface. That's how I imagined Celestria spent her last minutes in Belsgar before I rescued her. After what I had witnessed from her recovery I wasn't certain that I had saved her after all. Alaire was waiting for the right time to talk to her, but I refused to believe that time was patient. Fate could catch up to her and decide that there was no chance of cheating death.

  Holding the note from Esmour's house in my hand, I headed for the study. It was two doors down from Celestria's room. No matter what fate Celestria was bound to face, I wanted to tell her the whole story before it was too late.

  Arriving in the study, I sat down and came face to face with a quill and paper. The room was a fair size, large enough to fit several bookshelves but small enough that it felt cozy and secluded from the remainder of the house. There were stacks of paper covering my desk, most of which were paperwork from the press, and perched onto was a black crow. To anyone observing, the crow appeared to be real, but with a closer look one would realize it was nothing more but an expensive statue. Glancing down at the paper, I panicked at how intimidating one blank piece of paper could be. The words wouldn't come to me. I dropped Esmour's note on the desk, propped my feet up and sat in complete silence.

  One simple letter; that's all I had to write, but I couldn't even decide how to address Celestria at the beginning. Each time I dropped the quill in ink and started to write I scribbled out the words, crumbled up the paper, and threw it on the floor. Though I hadn't written many letters in my lifetime, this wasn't like wooing a girl or sending a message. All I wanted to do was explain to her that when she woke up her life would be changing forever. She was in the care of two magicians who had severed under Esmour, and one would be wanted for murder. The White magicians knew I had won the battle fairly, but Aldemund's death might as well have been murder because for his kind it meant war. I hadn't thought about the danger we were placing her in before we had traveled home.

  “Just write something...” I murmured, scribbling again on a new piece of paper.

  Time held no importance as I turned this way and that to write out the simple truth. It was the story of the most powerful man I knew and one of his weakest magicians, who had ended up saving one life after taking hundreds. Finally when I glanced around the room once more I noticed the crumbled letters on the floor. Sighing, I started over, writing various forms of addressing Celestria. It was during this time that I felt a strange presence in the room. I could hear someone breathing, and I was convinced I was not alone.

  Glancing up, I called out, “Who's there?”

  No one replied and it was possible that after all of the time I had spent in the room my mind was playing tricks.

  “Hello?” I whispered as I stood up and walked toward the far corner. During the moment I held my breath, awaiting a response, I could still hear another person breathing. Had one of the White magicians arrived to punish me for the act I committed? Except the harder I looked, the more convincing it appeared that the figure in the shadows was a woman. She stood without saying a word, making no movement at all. If she was my assassin I would have been de
ad minutes ago. Cautiously, I raised my hand to her...

  Abruptly the door swung open and Liliana's voice said, “Sir?”

  Lowering my hand, I exhaled deeply. The woman seemed to have disappeared, but that didn't assure me of what I had experienced moments ago.

  “How is she?” I asked, waiting for the color in my cheeks to return before I turned around.

  “She is better, sir. She needs rest and time, but she has improved since she first arrived,” Liliana answered.

  At last I faced her with a smile. I refused to look back into the corner of the room, and Celestria would be one excuse to escape the madness.

  “What of these papers, sir?”

  Laughing, I replied, “Clean this up and leave the letters in my room. I shall attend to them when I return from speaking with our guest. I expect Alaire is with her already?”

  “Yes, sir, he has been with her ever since the accident,” she said as she started picking up the letters.

  As I advanced to the door I was certain that I heard her humming, but a darker possibility crept into my mind. What if the figure I had seen was real? That would mean that someone had entered into my home without being noticed, or quite possibly someone already inside was a traitor. Either that or I really was losing my mind, and I did not fancy either thought. I descended down the hallway, determined that when I found Alaire I could convince him to leave Celestria's bedside for a least a few hours. I saw the candlelight from the guest room before I stepped inside. Alaire was in the same place I had left him, except there was a wet rag in his hand and his eyes were closed. Across the room Gavril was sitting against the wall, appearing gravely ill himself. He started to stand up, but I waved my hand and motioned for him to stay where he was. I approached the bed quietly so not to stir Alaire, and though Celestria was asleep, her color seemed to be returning.

  Whispering, I said, “We'll fix our wrongs... you'll see.”

  Then I returned to where Gavril was and knelt down to his level.