by Todd, E. L.
They left the wild lands of Suaden and advanced through the roadways of the city. They were enjoying each other’s company under the light of the sun flickering through the canopy. Accacia eyed Zyle’s sword that hung on his belt.
“Will you teach me the fighting skills of the Asquithians?” she asked as they walked through the marketplace. She caught the glances of the men and saw one attempt to approach her. She grabbed Zyle’s hand and ran away from her admirer.
“Go to the Battle Academy,” he said as she pulled him through the market. He smiled at her retreat. He knew she was being pursued by another male, yet again. “That’s what it’s for.”
“I don’t want to look like an idiot trying to fight like a brute. Teach me the basics so I won’t make a fool out of myself. I don’t want Laura to hate me.”
Zyle laughed. “She would never hate you. Even if you fought like an idiotic brute, she still wouldn’t.”
“I still want to learn just the same,” she said. “Please?”
Zyle looked at the expectant look on her face. “Okay,” he agreed.
She kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you.”
When they returned to the eave, Accacia picked up the book of poems she had been reading the past few weeks and continued where she left off. The words were put together in such a way that it made her heart squeeze. The person lost the love of their life and couldn’t face the truth. They were really gone. Accacia thought of Aleco when she read it.
Zyle sat beside her on the couch and removed his shoes. The sun set and left the forest in darkness. Koku usually came every morning and every evening, but tonight he was absent. Zyle felt mildly worried. It was unusual behavior. Zyle looked over at Accacia. Her legs were crossed and she had a light blanket over her shoulders. Even in this humid climate, she was still slightly cold. He looked at the book in her hand. “Are you enjoying it?”
Accacia looked up from the vine-bound book. “Yes,” she said. “These poems are marvelous. The pain is so raw—I can actually feel it.”
“Thank you.”
Accacia stared at him. “You wrote these?”
“Yes,” he said. “I did a very long time ago. I haven’t done much writing since.”
Accacia closed the cover and placed it on the counter. “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean—I didn’t know it was yours.”
Zyle grabbed the book from the table and handed it back to her. “I don’t mind at all, Accacia.”
“But—they are so personal.” Accacia clutched the book in her hand. It detailed so much emotion from his lifetime with his life partner, her unexpected death, their physical relationship, even his regret of not having children. “It is none of my business.”
“Yes, it is,” he said. Zyle felt innately comfortable with Accacia, a sensation he hadn’t felt in many years. He was guarded with his personal information to everyone, but his walls began to crumble before her. Other than Koku, she was his closest friend, and he had no qualms sharing anything with her. “You are my friend—I enjoy being open with you. I haven’t had someone I felt this comfortable with for the past twenty years. I only confided things to my life partner.”
“I’m honored, Zyle.”
“You and I are family, Accacia,” he said. “Well, the closest thing to it.”
Accacia smiled. “I suppose we are.”
Zyle opened his hand to her and she accepted his gesture. He pulled her towards him, and she rested her head on his shoulder. They both stared out the window in silence until they fell asleep.
Accacia found herself in a dream. Her visions were usually about Aleco and tonight they were no different.
Accacia wore a white dress with yellow blossoms in her hair. She looked down and saw her arm in the crook of a man’s elbow. When she glanced up, she saw her father smiling at her. He kissed her on the cheek. They continued to walk forward down the forest road, which was blanketed in snow, passing tall elk trees and brush of the woodland. The slight breeze ruffled the pink blossoms on the trees, and they drifted down from the branches to her feet. She couldn’t make out her surroundings in detail, but she knew she was in Orgoom Forest. Aleco stood at the end of the road. He wore the uniform of the king, with a shoulder belt that depicted all the realms under his command, and he was beaming at her, more than happy to see her walking towards him. She returned his smile and couldn’t wait until she reached him. When she got closer, Aleco’s features changed and he was no longer the man she knew. It was Zyle.
He stood before her in a black suit with a crown over his head, smiling at her approach. He held his hand out to her and she took it. Suddenly, she was in Canu Forest. The Canu birds were singing overhead, whistling the tune she loved so much. She felt the sun’s kiss on her skin and the damp moisture from the humidity. Zyle grabbed her face and kissed her, and she kissed him back. She didn’t pull away. When Zyle ended the embrace, Accacia saw Aleco watching them. Drake had Aleco’s head pulled back with a sword held to his throat. Accacia screamed at the sight, but no one around her cared about the scene. It was as if they couldn’t even see them. Zyle stared at Accacia, completely unaware of Aleco and his imminent death.
“ALECO!” She stared at Drake. “Let him go.”
Drake severed his head from his body and the blood splashed everywhere, drenching the green grass with a puddle of Aleco’s essence, his very soul.
“STOP!”
Drake moved to her father and decapitated him. His head rolled passed her feet. She screamed as loud as she could and began to convulse from the nightmare, trying to wake herself up.
Accacia opened her eyes and saw Zyle leaning over her. She saw her fear reflected in his features. His eyes were wide open with shock. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him to her. He returned her embrace and rocked her back and forth, trying to calm her breathing and stifle her cries. Eventually, she fell asleep, and Zyle wondered what she had been dreaming about.
Accacia awoke the next morning with Zyle’s arms wrapped protectively around her. She felt warm in his embrace then immediately felt guilty at the comfort. It reminded her of Aleco. She had only felt that way with him. She sat up and moved away. Accacia looked out the window, expecting Koku to enter through the window, but he didn’t come.
Zyle sat up and stared at her. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked. She knew he was referring to her nightmares, which seemed to happen every night.
“No.”
Zyle didn’t remove his gaze. “I wish you would be open with me, Accacia. Discussing the nightmare will help you get through it. If not me, then we can find someone else.”
Accacia ran her fingers through her hair. She didn’t want to offend him. She wasn’t uncomfortable talking to him about the nightmare—she wasn’t comfortable discussing it with anyone.
Zyle waited for her to speak, but she said nothing. He leaned against the couch. “I went through the same thing when Cassandra died. I had nightmares about her death every single night. They were so disturbing I stopped sleeping altogether. I didn’t close my eyes for days at a time. When I started discussing the dreams with Laura, they went away.”
“You two are close?”
“Yes, we are good friends.”
Accacia thought it was odd that he stressed the platonic nature of the relationship, but she didn’t question it. Accacia sighed before she spoke. She recalled the dreams in her memory, every single one including the most recent vision. Zyle didn’t comment until she was finished. He just listened.
“You are marrying me in this dream?”
“Yes, I think so,” she said. “But it is just a dream, Zyle.”
Zyle nodded. “You obviously feel guilty about leaving him behind, letting him die while you start a new life.” A tear dripped down Accacia’s face and Zyle wiped it away. “You have to remember why you came here to begin with—he wanted you to come here, Accacia. To start a new life and move on.”
Accacia sniffed. “I’m not moving on f
rom him—I love him.”
Zyle sighed. “That isn’t what I meant, Accacia. He understood the conditions of his choice—he wants you to be happy. Honor that sacrifice and be happy, Accacia.”
“And leave him to his fate?”
“Yes,” he said. “You knew that when you left him.”
The next few months passed by in a flash. Zyle trained her in the sword every day, but had a difficult time forcing her to change her battle tactics—she was accustomed to fighting the way she was taught and struggled to adopt the new style. When they weren’t sparring, Zyle took her on forestry missions and taught her the basics of healing and plant identification. He was impressed how quickly she learned everything. Whenever they found an injured creature, she immediately began to heal them even though Zyle would volunteer to do it in her stead. She would smile when it was over, blissful of her selfless accomplishment.
They spent their evenings at home, taking turns preparing dinner and exchanging books they enjoyed. Zyle said people were spreading rumors about her existence. Since Roxian hadn’t removed her temporary freedom, he decided to keep her out of the public eye as much as possible. Even when they walked through Canu to leave the city, the men still threw flowers at her feet or waved to her as she passed. Accacia avoided their gaze when they did that and kept her eyes downturned to the forest floor. Zyle knew she would need a life partner soon—she hated the attention.
Koku visited the eave once a week—never more than that. Zyle wasn’t sure what had caused the drastic change in his behavior—he knew it wasn’t Accacia—Koku adored her, but when he asked Koku if he was alright, he always nodded yes. Zyle didn’t know what to think.
Accacia’s nightmares seemed to stop—or at least she didn’t wake up screaming in the middle of the night anymore. They ended after they had their conversation—when she confessed she had a dream where she married him.
Zyle continued his weekly reports to Roxian, much to his displeasure, and stated she was what he said she was—harmless. He told her about her progress in herbal remedies and creature healing, but Roxian seemed disinterested at this information. When Zyle detailed her instruction in the sword, Roxian grew angry.
“Why are you teaching her our secrets?”
“Because she asked,” he said.
“I never approved of that.”
Zyle sighed. “She already knows how to fight—she almost disarmed me when she arrived here. She means us no harm. How many times do I have to tell you this?”
Roxian ignored his comment. “Did you tell her you are her guardian?”
“Yes,” he said. “I think it’s time she knows the truth about Laura as well.”
“I don’t,” she said. “That information is privileged.”
Zyle ran his fingers through his hair. “They both have the right to know.”
“No, not yet,” she said.
“What are you waiting for?”
“I still don’t trust her.”
“She has given you no reason to distrust her. She is our ally, our friend, our family.”
Roxian shook her head. “Has she disclosed any personal information to you?”
Zyle thought for a moment. “Nothing that is relevant.”
“I will be the judge of that.”
“She was in love with a man that she left behind—she loves him still.”
“Why did she leave him?”
“He told her to go.”
“So he knows she is here?”
Zyle looked away. He regretted mentioning this. “Yes.”
She rose from her desk. The white satin of her gown clung to the curves around her waist. “So, she lied to us?”
“Technically, yes, but it was a petty lie. She probably didn’t see the relevance, too heartbroken to speak about the loss of her love.”
Roxian watched his eyes drop as he spoke. His lips curved into a frown. “Does that bother you?”
“What?” he asked.
“That she loves another man?”
Zyle was growing tired of her constant jealousy. He never expressed any interest in her, but she always controlled his life like he belonged to her. She just wanted to secure her line as the queen by having a suitable male partner—there was no competition—Zyle was the best candidate. “No,” he answered. “It bothers me that she is in so much pain. I am her guardian after all. I’m supposed to care for her.”
The answer seemed to satisfy Roxian because she returned to her seat. “A lie is still a lie,” She said. “How do I know she won’t do it again? That man could come searching for her with a fleet of ships.”
“He won’t,” he said. “He forced her to come here so she would be safe. Why would he blow her cover by sailing the seas in search of her? He is the least of our worries.”
“I hope you are right, Zyle.”
He stared at her. “I know I am.”
Roslyn Keep
27
Drake sat at the head of the table in the grand library and stared out the window. He felt the dust from the hundreds of books fill the air and enter his nose, tickling his sinuses at the intrusion. He wished he could open the window and let the air clear the stagnant stench of the room. The king had his servants dust the books of his library once a year. Accacia loved reading in his massive library, and he never wanted her to breathe in the filth. The thought of Accacia made his heart squeeze. She was always in his thoughts.
The councilors sat in their usual seats on the long side of the table. They sipped their refreshments as they waited for their guest of honor. Artremian sat at the end of the table, silent as always, waiting for the conference to begin. Artremian lost substantial weight and it was obvious in his appearance. His dress trousers sagged at the waist and his uniform shirt, the one of the Duke of Roslyn, fit him like a large blanket. Pity rose in Drake’s heart but vanished just as quickly. The man tried to kill him after all.
Father Hyphalia sat in his usual seat by the window. He stared across the room at Drake, not bothering to hide his disdain for the King of the Continent, then looked away. The holy priest assumed he was safe from Drake’s wrath, but nothing could be further from the truth. The king assumed he would have learned from Father’s Giloth’s mistake. Apparently, he hadn’t.
Drake looked to the door and waited for the guest he was anxious to meet; Father Rhonian of Orgoom Forest. The king killed his mentor and now he wondered if the Nature Priest and his forest held him accountable for the death of their beloved priest. If there were any problems, Drake would address it immediately. He would kill him.
The chamberlain opened the grand doors. “Father Rhonian, Chief Nature Priest of Orgoom Forest has arrived.”
Drake nodded. “Bring him forth.”
The chamberlain nodded then left the room, closing the heavy doorway behind him. A moment later, the doors reopened and a man walked through. He wore the white robes of his office and carried the staff of his post. He appeared to be the Nature Priest they expected, but there was one exception. His face was hidden within his cloak.
The king stared at him for a moment before he rose to his feet. Artremian was the closest to him. He stood up and greeted the priest. “Hello, Father,” he said with a forced smile. “I am sorry about the loss of your mentor and for the fire that took the edge of your forest, burning some of you in the process.”
The man’s voice was deep in tone, deeper than the king expected. “Thank you,” he said. “We have suffered the burn of the flames, but the forest persevered. That is the only thing that matters.”
Artremian nodded. “Of course it is, Father.”
Drake dropped his suspicion of the man. His face had obviously been torched in the fire and now it was hideous to behold. The king was grateful the Nature Priest hid the sight from view. Father Rhonian stopped and bowed before him. “Thank you for including me in your delegations, Sole Sovereign of the Unified Continent. It is a great honor to be asked.”
The king nodded. “Thank you for accepting my invit
ation. Your presence is also an honor. I hope there are no ill feelings between us from recent events.”
The Nature Priest shook his head. “No, the forest does not hold grudges or anger against its allies. Let us move forward.”
“I am very glad to hear that, Father.” Drake walked back to the head of the table. “Please take a seat.”
The Nature Priest sat in the chair next to Father Hyphalia. He extended his hand and the Guardian of the Channeled Souls took it. “I am honored to make your acquaintance, Your Grace.”
Father Hyphalia smiled. “As am I, Father.”
The king cleared his throat and the room fell silent. Drake smiled at the immediate reaction. He enjoyed the authority he had over his inferiors. “We are here to discuss the events of the Continent. As the Sole Sovereign of the Unified Continent, I have a few reports to make and I hope you will be pleased by the events.” Drake folded his hands on the table and surveyed the people of the room. Artremian appeared lifeless, no longer interested in the tidings of the Continent. The councilmen looked at him with expectant faces, wondering what else the king had decided to change. Father Hyphalia looked out the window and Father Rhonian met his gaze, or at least the king assumed. There was no way to know for certain. “The construction of the new Roslyn Keep is almost complete, and the destruction of this keep will immediately take place afterwards. It will be hard to see it vanish from the city, but I feel that it is necessary.” Drake rested his gaze on Artremian, who showed no emotion at his words. He didn’t care. “The Mercantile Project of Paso Robles is flourishing in the production of goods and weapons. The slaves of the province have responded to the delegation of the guards and they are working around the clock to provide our kingdom with goods. The other realms of the Continent have continued on with their shrunken populations and have adapted to the change in size. So, our current undertakings have been a success—I am very content with the news.”
