She refused.
Only yesterday, it had been too hot to cook in their small house. Without magic to keep the world in balance, nothing made sense.
She would not bow down to hopelessness.
As if called, she leaned forward and placed her palms on the ground in front of her. Her dress bunched and she shifted her skirts to kick her legs free. Her curls had fallen loose and hung forward as she closed her eyes.
She could hear it.
She always did.
The low hum echoed off the trees surrounding her, a vibration trailing up her arms. It was the only time she felt strong, hopeful – when she was connecting in this way.
After the magic was gone, she'd discovered her connection to the earth. It had taken her years to realize what it was. Her people called it the Tenelach. She could literally hear the earth sing. She could feel it in every bone.
Only it wasn't supposed to exist. Tenelach was a myth. It was said to be a deeper connection than magic had provided and therefor it could not be. When she'd first told her parents, they thought it was a child's fantasies. Then they started to tell her to grow up and to forget what she thought she knew. That was the day they began to see her as more of a burden than a beloved child.
The people were angry. She hadn't seen it at the time, but now it was plain. Losing their magic was like losing everything they knew. They didn't know how else to live. It left them empty and feeling so very alone. They didn't want to believe there were those who didn't have to feel that.
So she stopped talking about it.
Lifting her face to the sky, she kept her eyes squeezed shut and began humming in time with the earth. Her hums turned into words and before long, she found herself singing. Her pure voice rang out and she would have sworn she felt a surge of joy rush up her arms from the ground below.
A smile curved her lips and she continued, lost in a world that no one else would ever understand.
* * *
Wren had come a long way since day break. It was all he could do to stay in his saddle, but the images continued to run through his mind. Three days ago, he'd come across a supply train from Dreach-Dhoun that was traveling to the Duke's estate in Isenore.
Wren's father was a noble who served Isenore faithfully, but he'd always said his first loyalty was to the king. Dreach-Sciene contained three kingdoms – Isenore, Aldorwood, and the Isle of Sona. That was what he knew. The king was their leader and he would never sell them out to their enemies. Dreach-Dhoun was the enemy.
At his father's urgings, Wren had left Isenore behind. Lord Eisner, the duke, would call upon his nobles soon. They'd be expected to provide soldiers. Wren was his father's greatest fighter. He was considered the greatest fighter in Isenore. That was why he had to leave his home. He would only fight for his king.
The roads had become dangerous and the villages suspicious. He knew stopping was not a good idea. He barely glanced at the village as he rode passed. He'd enter the forest and take the paths the rest of the way to the palace. Once he reached the trees, he could rest for the night.
His horse needed rest as well. He'd ridden him hard. They entered the forest at a slow gait. When a woman's voice reached his ears, he pulled up on the reins and looked around. It was getting dark and the woods were no place for a woman at night.
He rode towards the sound and stopped when he saw her. The breath rushed out of his lungs.
A beautiful woman was kneeling on the forest floor, her dress was bunched up to reveal long legs. He knew he should look away, but he couldn't. Her blonde hair hung wild, almost feral, as she flung her head back. Her eyes were closed and her lips parted to release a mesmerizing song.
He jerked in his saddle and his horse stepped back, snapping a twig in the process.
The singing ceased abruptly and the woman's eyes snapped open. She looked at him for a long moment as if she knew not what to do. Then she stood so abruptly that it spooked his horse.
The brown stallion reared back suddenly. Wren wasn't prepared and a strangled cry rose up from his throat. He held on to his saddle with all his strength, but the horse stepped backwards and reared again. Before he knew it was happening, he was falling free of his beast.
His body slammed into the ground and the horse's hoof caught him in the stomach. The sounds around him faded away and his vision went in and out.
The girls face appeared before his. Her lips moved, but he heard nothing.
Blackness tugged at the corners of his vision before finally pulling him under its thick veil.
* * *
Mira stared on in shock. Finding a man watching her when she was in the midst of her connection was like having a bucket of cold water flung on her. She'd been so stunned, she'd spooked his horse.
The beast stopped its tantrum when she made no further threatening moves and now it approached her cautiously.
She glanced from the horse to the now motionless man and her wits came back to her. She rushed forward.
“Are you okay?” she asked, crouching down.
No response. Not even a groan.
She thought furiously, trying to remember what to do. Her father was the town healer, but without magic or even fresh herbs, that consisted mainly of setting bones and sewing cuts.
Then it came to her. She pressed a finger into his neck just as her father had shown her. The strong thumps against it was proof of life.
She sat back on her heels, her chest heaving. “Oh, thank the earth. You aren't dead.”
She didn't know what to do. The people of the village would tell her to leave him and take his horse. He would only be one more mouth to feed.
But that was why she was different than them.
She tugged at his arm to roll him over, realizing there was no way she could get him back to her father. Her eyes scanned the forest around them. It was as good a place as any. Most would tell her the woods were dangerous, but she felt safer there than she did back in town.
She knew how to survive on her own. She thought of the potato soup her mom had been making back home. If she didn't return, there might be enough to keep the pangs at bay for her brother and sister. It wasn't the first time she'd gone without food and it wouldn't be the last.
But the night was cold and it was getting dark. Mira looked at the man once more and noticed the shining sword hanging at his belt. She slid it carefully from its scabbard and went in search of firewood, sword in hand for protection. Everything was so dry, that wouldn't be hard.
Before long, she had a fire going. She pushed the man closer to it and then settled back against a tree. Examining the sword in her hand more closely, she noticed the quality. Blades like this did not belong among the villages in Dreach-Sciene. She wondered who he was.
For the first time, she also wondered if she should be frightened of him. The fire lit up his face in an orange glow. He was young, probably near her own age, and handsome – she couldn't deny that. His dark hair was long and tied back away from his face. She found herself wishing she could see the color of his eyes.
She watched his chest rise and fall and felt an unwelcome gratitude rise up. Mira didn't want to be happy for the excuse to avoid home. She wished more than anything to find her place there. Her eyes found a far-off point and she knew that would never happen. She would never belong there. She was meant for more.
Her eyes were beginning to drift shut, when the man started to cough. She looked towards him and found his eyes on her. She didn't know how long he'd been staring. Reaching her arms up, she pushed her hair back and tried to tame it as best she could. She had already appeared wild to this unknown man.
The man wheezed and gripped his side.
“Are you in pain?” Mira asked.
He didn't answer her, but his eyes held the truth. “You stayed.” He tried to push himself up, but didn't have the strength and ended up falling back with a frustrated grunt.
She looked on in worry and a tiny bit of amusement.
“I'd stay still
if I were you.”
His eyes assessed her and she squirmed under his gaze. It had been a while since anyone looked at her with anything other than scorn or pity. In this man's eyes, all she saw was curiosity.
“You're holding my sword,” he stated calmly.
“I am.” She ran a hand down the blade.
“Can I have it back?” He reached out, expecting her to pass it to him.
“No.”
He narrowed his eyes. “A soldier's sword is an extension of oneself. You shouldn't be handling it.”
“Are you a soldier?”
“Yes.”
“Because this blade is too good for that of a simple soldier.”
“You see much, my lady.” Suspicion entered his voice.
“What else is one to do with their eyes?” She laughed at him and he flushed.
He tried to sit up again and this time succeeded.
“How badly are you hurt?” Her face grew serious.
“Nothing I haven't felt before.”
“Don't be such a man,” she snapped. “I'm trying to ascertain if I can get you to my father for healing.”
“I don't need to see a healer. I must be on my way.”
She huffed in annoyance. “Like you could even get into your saddle right now.” She moved closer. “What's your name?”
His lips curved up into the most charming smile she'd ever seen and he stuck out his hand. “Wren. It's a pleasure to meet you …”
“Mira,” she finished for him, clasping his hand.
Warmth sizzled up her arm and her breath caught in her throat. Wren's eyes held an intensity that ensnared her gaze. She couldn't look away. His grip on her hand tightened until she almost couldn't feel anything at all.
“Mira.” His lips caressed her name, testing it out on his tongue.
The sound of her name jolted her back to herself and she released him and jumped away. Getting to her feet, she straightened out the bottom of her dress.
“I don't have any food,” she finally said. “I must return to the village.”
“It is late,” he responded. “Why didn't you just go through my saddle bags?”
“Why would I? They do not belong to me.”
“There is food enough in there so you have no reason to return this night.”
She hugged her arms across her chest. “I don't know you, sir. I am certainly not going to spend all night in the woods with you.”
“You had no problem doing so when you thought I was unconscious. Surely it is safer with me awake.”
“How do I know you aren't what I need protecting from?”
He grinned. “You're a smart woman.”
“That surprises you?” There was no offense in her voice, only curiosity.
“No. It … pleases me.”
“Then tell me why you travel these woods alone. Why am I not to fear you?”
He leaned back with a sigh. “I come from Isenore to join the king's forces as we prepare for war.”
Her face scrunched in distaste at the mention of Isenore. The Lord Eisner was almost as hated as King Calis of Dreach-Dhoun. He didn't come out as evil blatantly, but people saw beneath the surface. He was not a good man.
Wren moved around to get more comfortable and Mira found herself intrigued by him. He was so very different than every man she'd known in her life. His body was not beaten down by a life of hard work. His soul was not crushed by the hopelessness perpetuated inside the village. There was still a brightness to his eyes rather than a dull acceptance of one's fate. When he laughed, it was like music, finally breaking through into a world with no sound.
Her life had been so utterly devoid of laughter.
“I don't want to go back,” she finally admitted. “At least not tonight. But don't try to kill me.” It was her first attempt at a joke in a very long time and silence followed it. She closed her eyes for the briefest of moments, opening them when Wren's soft chuckling reached her ears. She leaned back with a satisfied smile.
Chapter Two
Wren was not immune to the charms of a beautiful woman. He was the son of a noble – a minor noble, but still – so he was constantly surrounded by women whose hair, makeup, and dress were so done up that they couldn't be anything other than beautiful.
The woman across from him had no charms to speak of. She tried to joke and it seemed so unnatural coming out of her that he couldn't help but laugh. Her blonde curls were wild and untamed. Her rosy cheeks were unpainted. She wore a dress that had definitely seen better days.
She was a commoner. His court would look down on women like her. They would say she was not worthy, that she had no smarts; no beauty.
And they would be wrong. Her calculating eyes held more knowledge in them than he could imagine. Her undone look was endearing.
She'd helped him when most would have left him for dead. There was a time when that wasn't true. When he was a child, Dreach-Sciene had been a place where the people looked out for each other. There were plenty of resources to go around so they could afford to.
Now, helping a stranger meant giving a little bit of what you had. It meant putting someone else above yourself. That was not something that people could afford to do anymore. Heck, he wasn't sure he'd stop for a stranger.
She'd done it without a second thought. Or at least, he assumed it was without a second thought because he'd been unconscious.
He watched her as she tentatively rummaged in his pack, her eyes going wide. His father had insisted he take plenty of food. They were on rations, but his father wanted him to be taken care of. He knew it meant his father would be going without enough food this week.
It shamed him to accept it, but it would have shamed the old man more had he refused.
Mira pulled out a hunk of cheese and broke it in two. She took the much smaller part and tossed the other to him. She didn't touch the bread or ale.
Food in hand, she sat back down next to where she'd laid his sword. He doubted she even knew how to use the thing.
He took a bite, hoping it would give him some much-needed strength. His ribs hurt and his head was worse, but all he needed was a night's sleep and he'd be back on the road. It was important to his father that he join in this fight, so it was important to him.
The truth was that his father had suspicions about the duke they served. He didn't trust his loyalty and if Lord Eisner switched sides in the wars to come, then many of his nobles would as well. Not Wren's family though. Their loyalty would always be to the king and he took pride in that fact.
Across the fire, he saw Mira shiver. “We can use the horse's blanket.” He pointed to where Mira had unsaddled the horse and left the blanket nearby.
She didn't respond and he knew why.
“It's cold out here,” he urged. “And that's the only blanket we've got.”
She stared at him – or through him.
“You know what? You can just use it. Don't worry about me.” He huffed an impatient sigh. He wasn't used to sleeping on the ground or in the cold. His warm, feather bed at home sounded very good right about then.
Mira finally stood, her movements stiff. She walked towards the saddle and moved it out of the way to lift the heavy blanket. Her nose wrinkled at the smell and he almost laughed. She joined him on his side of the fire and threw the blanket down before lowering herself to the ground.
“I don't know you,” she said. “I still think you might kill me.” She put up a hand to stop his protests. “But I'd really rather not freeze to death in the night.”
“You could just leave me here and go home to your warm, inviting home.”
She looked away and he sensed a hesitancy there so he didn't press her about her home. Instead, he spread the blanket across their laps, enjoying the warm cocoon it created. She was so close he could feel her movements. She smelled of earth, raw and fresh. A breeze whipped through their clearing, rustling the dried leaves along the ground and fanning Mira's hair out behind her.
She burrowed fu
rther into the warmth of the blanket, pulling it up to her chin.
He remembered how she looked when he first found her. She'd looked so peaceful yet so powerful all at once. It was mesmerizing. He knew he should be on his way to the palace, but he couldn't bring himself to regret being there in that moment.
It was the Tenelach. He knew it the moment he saw it. He'd only ever known one person who claimed to have had it. When he was a child, there was an older woman in his father's household. He'd been fascinated because she could do things with her magic that no one else could. Then the magic was drained and she turned into nothing more than a sad old woman mourning the past. She died only a few years later and he had thought the Tenelach was no longer possible without that power.
But he saw it with his own eyes. She'd been connected to the earth in a way he hadn't seen since the war. It was part of her – this wild woman.
He felt her body nudge closer to his and looked over. She was asleep, her face relaxed for the first time since he'd met her. She was no longer on guard. He let her press up against his side and closed his eyes.
The blanket fell from around her, but she was still warm beside him, only confirming his suspicions.
Yes. The Tenelach.
* * *
Wren woke slowly, cracking his eyes open to let in the blinding sunlight. The warm presence he'd felt all night was gone and a panic suddenly overtook him. Did she leave? He couldn't bear the thought of never seeing her again.
He managed to sit up, the pain still there from the day before. It had lessened, but he worried riding would still be out of the question.
His eyes scanned the area around them, finally landing on Mira's form. She had her back leaning against a tree and a book sat open in her lap.
“You can read?” He hadn't meant to sound so surprised.
She jerked her head up and snapped the book shut. “That's none of your business.”
“I'm … I'm sorry. It's just that most of the commoners in Isenore can't read, especially the women.” He cringed as he replayed those words in his head. He'd just insulted her and had no way of taking it back.
She climbed to her feet and brushed off her dress before putting the book in her basket. “How are you feeling?” Her voice held no emotion and he knew after that comment she just wanted to get rid of him.
Once Upon A Broken Dream: A Creativia Anthology Page 16
