by T. C. Edge
The figure ahead enters and gently shuts the door, doing so in a manner to suggest they're attempting not to wake me. Turning their back to close the hatch, I quickly note that the size of the shape, and it's proportions, is dramatically insufficient to be Perses. The faint glow of red light, however, immediately marks out the morning intruder.
"What are you doing here, Elian?" I ask croakily, sitting up in the bed. Beneath the covers, my lithe frame remains modestly covered by a comfortable white nightgown. Elian spins on the spot, his eyes locking immediately to the top of the garment, visible above the covers as I press myself into a sitting position.
"I...sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you."
"Frighten is hardly the word," I say, covering my yawn with the back of a hand. "It's only you." I grin at him, but find his gaze squarely fixed on the curve of my shoulders, the tanned skin around my collar and neck. I swiftly lift the blanket to guarantee full coverage. "Hey, eyes up."
He shuffles his gaze up, his usual smirk not hovering about on his lips. Instead, something altogether different sits there in its place; a sort of vacant expression of lust, though bordered with a frame of awkwardness that doesn't match up with his usual, swaggering manner.
"Oh...yeah, sorry," he says. "It's a...nice gown, that's all."
"Right. A nice gown." I nod several times. "Sure."
I turn my eyes over him, and rub my own once again. Another yawn finds its way up my throat and past my lips. I can smell my own breath. It's not particularly pleasant. "So, creeping in to watch me sleep or something?" I say through the yawn. "Or did you have something else in mind?" I raise my eyes at him. His own stay wilfully on my face and no lower.
"Don't flatter yourself, Amber. I'm here on official business."
"Official? You're trying to make this official now, are you? That's a little fast, Elian. I'm not that easy, you know."
"You could have fooled me, the way you prance about."
"I do not prance about," I tell him. "I'm not graceful enough to prance. I tend to lumber if anything."
Elian can't help but smirk, one corner of his mouth tugging upwards just enough for me to pounce.
"Aha, yes! I win," I announce. "You broke first, and that means I win!" My brag is accompanied by a smug, beaming smile.
Elian bows low, still smiling. "I concede," he says. "Though, I got to see you half naked, so I kinda win, don't I?"
My eyes rocket down to my nightgown, expecting to see that it's slipped off somehow during the night. "You saw nothing," I say, breathing a sigh of relief, though with a dash of disappointment added to the mix. "Stop kidding yourself."
"I've got a good imagination, Amber," Elian grins. "Seeing that flimsy thing on you is plenty for me to work with."
"Like my skintight combat suit isn't enough."
"Well, there's nothing like seeing a bit of flesh, is there? But yeah, I'm a fan of the suit. Why do you think I pushed so hard for us to train together?"
I pull the covers just a little higher up towards my collarbone, shaking my head. "So, why exactly are you here? You could have knocked, you know."
"I did knock. Quietly," he adds with a smile and a whisper. "I'm here to collect you to go train. Nothing like an early start to the day."
I look past him to the door. The rain continues to lash outside, the skies thick with dark cloud. But, more to the point, the carriage is still moving. Not as fast as normal, and at a fairly gentle pace, granted, but it is moving.
"Um, we haven't stopped yet," I say. "Perses said we might be able to train when we do. Later on."
I turn away, dropping back under the covers as if that's the end of the conversation. Frankly, the idea of getting out there in the howling wind and rain is about the last thing I want to do right now. A day tucked under these blankets, listening to the storm, sounds far more agreeable to me.
I feel a tug coming from behind, however, and flick back around to find Elian there, fingers clasping the blankets, slowly trying to draw them off me. My eyes narrow and flash red. "What the hell is this? Are you trying to piss me off?"
"No, I'm trying to get you up. It's time to train. We're going slow, and Herald Kovas has said that we can find a nice spot to train and then catch up later. He said he'll even monitor things himself from Worldshaker."
"Worldshaker?" I say, rolling my eyes. "That's the name of that ugly carriage you two travel in?"
"All the Heralds' carriages have lofty names. It's no more ridiculous than Black Thunder."
"Well, it kinda is, to be fair. And at least Perses earns it with what he's accomplished..."
"And Herald Kovas hasn't? You act as if you know what you're talking about. What do you have against him anyway."
Elian leans in, frowning heavily and I back away a little bit in response, clearly touching a nerve. "Er, nothing, I guess. I just don't like him much. There's something about him that creeps me out."
"Something that creeps you out," repeats Elian slowly and with a heavily sarcastic tone. "Oh, and I foolishly thought you were going to say something weak and flimsy about him, something completely unsubstantiated. But no, you have a profound reason to talk down about the man. Because he creeps you out." He shakes his head, tutting and rolling his eyes. "Grow up, Amber."
"Spare me your preachy rubbish, Eli," I return, my tongue snapping to action in my defence. "I've got every right to dislike someone on nothing but instinct, you know. And yeah, I know he was friends with your dad, and you've known him a while, but we're all entitled to make snap judgements on people. Don't pretend like you don't. You're just being a hypocrite if you say otherwise."
"Well..." Elian huffs. "Maybe, but we're talking about a Herald of War here. He's a great man who's achieved great things, and he deserves your respect."
The force of his delivery makes me consider things more closely. I realise, without too much thought, that he's probably right. And even if he's not, I can't be bothered with pursuing this little bickering match any longer. We both seem slightly on edge today for some reason. Probably just because it's morning, and that damn storm won't relent...
"Fine," I say eventually, conceding. "Anyway, what's Herald Kovas giving the go ahead for us to train for? Isn't that Perses's job?"
"He's not around. Off with the scouts. Not everything has to go through Perses, you know. Herald Kovas is quite able to run things while your master is away."
I smile knowingly, nodding. "And now who's being immature? If I've got a problem with Kovas, then I'd say you've got one with Perses. What, he's not giving you enough attention or something?"
Elian's teeth clench a little, his posture stiffening. He takes a couple of deep breaths, puffing like a bull. "OK, enough," he says through those gritted teeth. "If you want to train, I'll be outside. I'm going to wait two minutes. If you're not there, forget it. I'll find something better to do with my time."
He spins around with that, storming off and out of the carriage, all but slamming the door on the way out.
"Whoa, touchy," I say to myself, a little flustered and quite unsure of what sparked such a reaction. I have seen him try to live up to Perses before, try to impress him. Perhaps all he really wants from the big man is respect and recognition?
Does he get it? I wonder idly. Is he jealous, perhaps, of my position here by his side?
Of course, an answer won't be easy to come by through pure speculation of my own, and I'm unlikely to get a straight one from Elian should I ask him. No, best to just let this one slide and move on. There seems to be little else for it right now.
With my mind made up, and the clock ticking, I quickly hop out of bed, squeeze into my combat suit, and step outside to join Elian in the rain. Something in me needs to. Something in me suddenly hates the idea of falling into Elian's bad books.
I think, without him, I'd feel awfully lonely here.
I think, perhaps, I'm starting to need him.
I drop into the mud outside Black Thunder, the rain falling hard upon me, and find
my training partner and fellow Fire-Blood in grumpy form at first, walking sullenly to one side of the carriage as the convoy rumbles slowly along. The speed of the respective parties means that he's already losing ground, slowly disappearing into the gloom as he stubbornly refuses to run to catch up.
Around him, protecting him from the rain, a shield of heat glows, burning off any drop that spits in his direction. Where others would be soaked to the bone, Elian remains dry as one, his radiant golden hair as bright as ever, his blood red combat robes without a speck of water on them.
I hop down from the carriage and let it rattle off away, walking back towards Elian as the rest of the convoy splashes and rolls its way past. Stopping ahead of him, we share a moment of silence as we stare at one another. I'm relieved to see his surly facade quickly crack, his lips working into a faint smile as he shakes his head, unable to keep up this ill-tempered charade. I do the same, standing ahead of him, no shield around me as there is with him. Instead, I allow the pouring rain to soak me quickly through, giving me the appearance of a drowned rat ahead of his glowing prince.
It is, of course, deliberate, and not lost on Elian.
His smile works a little higher. "Come on then, get in here," he says, waving me over.
I scuttle eagerly, almost apologetically, over and under the cover of his shield, which seems to shrink just a little as if to force me just that little bit closer to his body. Standing there, out of the rain, as it pelts and batters us fruitlessly from above, I marvel for a moment at the pure wonder of the circumstance. I take much of it for granted these days, but there's truly something magical about what we can do.
He reaches out with his hand, and takes mine in his own. I feel the warmth of his flesh, his blood, his elemental aura shine out and through me. It seeps from his fingers to mine, working up through my body, quickly igniting the powers that lie within. Within moments only, my sodden hair is drying, all moisture burned off; my clammy, cold flesh dismissing all residue of the rain.
The shield that surrounds him spreads to me, a bubble in which we can both take refuge. And there, in that bubble, I feel more connected to him than ever, more drawn to this man who shares so much in common with me. A primal lust, a deeply ingrained desire, simmers within. The fire in my blood that yearns to feast and be set free, yearns too to stay near this man, join with him. Become...one.
A powerful urge hits me, and standing there in our own little world, I feel myself drawn forward. I look into his eyes and see the same; a longing, a need. It's as though there's something beyond our own personal wants and desires driving us. As though the elemental powers in our blood seek to bond with another of similar gifts.
I don't question any of it as our lips touch. I don't question how much I disliked him at first. How poor a pair we are, in some ways, given where we come from. I don't question anything beyond this moment, this flash in time. I let it happen because it feels right. I let it happen because...because I feel I have no power to stop it.
And nor, in that moment, do I want to.
Within that bubble, it's silent as we kiss. The howling wind, the rushing rain, the rattling of the chariots and carriages as they pass. None seem to make a sound, all noise cut off by the shield that surrounds us, protects us, hides us.
Can they see us? I wonder. Do I even care?
I get a sense that the shield burns brighter, helping to conceal us from view, but it's little more than a passing thought, the flick of a light in my mind that quickly goes out.
No, this moment is one I fall into, forgetting the outside world in its entirety. It lasts, perhaps, for a few seconds only, but it seems like so much more. A bonding beyond anything I've felt before. A joining of two great powers, of Chosen and Herald. A joining of fire that creates an inferno.
I feel his hands move, touching the sides of my face. They flicker with flame as they hold my cheeks, sending pulses of warm energy through me. His lips are tender, gentle, on mine. They lock together in harmony, pieces of a puzzle meant to be.
The spell is bewitching, tangling me up in its tendrils, yet it doesn't outstay its welcome. I feel Elian's hands slip away, and my eyes, shut tight to this point, begin to slide back open.
Dreamily.
Intoxicated.
I fix them on Elian's lips, his smile. He seems more handsome than ever, though without that arrogant, cocksure facade. There's something honest and earnest in his eyes as they stare at me. Something almost apologetic, as if he's pounced upon me in a vulnerable moment. As if he's taken advantage when he shouldn't.
It isn't true, and I show him with a smile in return. We moved together, as one. This moment came from both sides, not one or the other alone.
For a few moments, we continue to look at one another, basking in the final embers of that spell. I expect, soon, to feel an awkwardness take its place, to find myself suddenly coy and regretful. For my mind to fill with self-loathing and guilt for something that, really, it shouldn't.
It is Jude that springs to mind? Should I feel guilty for this, knowing we have gone our separate ways? Knowing that he likely still cares deeply for me, as I do him, despite the fact that little can ever come of it. Or is something else? Is it wrong for me to enjoy this, to relish in Elian's company and attentions, when he once represented all that I found unpleasant and unsavoury in this world?
All such questions will likely find their way to my mind in time. I will surely sit alone in Black Thunder, when I get a chance, and decide that all of this is one big mistake, that it should never have happened, and will never do so again.
But...why?
Aren't we, in truth, an ideal set? Forgetting where we come from, our paths are now aligned. And more than that, we get along so well. We have fun, and we laugh, and we enjoy testing one another's limits. His fire and mine are so similar. And so, in many ways, are we.
Don't second guess it all, I try to tell myself as we stand there beside the convoy, rattling and splashing by with a little more volume now, the spell breaking apart. Don't close off like you usually do...
The thought brings a smile, casting away any slight awkwardness, or embarrassment that might brew. I allow myself to beam, to shake off the shackles now creeping upon Elian's face. His own lips curl up into a delightful shape, peeling past those beautiful white teeth.
"I thought you might..." he begins.
I reach out and press my fingers to his lips, shushing him, and begin to shake my head. "I don't regret it, Elian," I whisper. "I felt right to me too."
I draw my fingers from his face. His smile grows smaller, though somehow more real. "Really?"
"Really," I say softly. "I guess...I guess it's training together. It makes you so...close."
He nods, and reaches out to take my hand, turning his eyes off towards a group of soldiers now gathering to one side. "We can talk about it later," he says. "If...if you want, that is."
We begin walking towards the group, standing in the open rain. I can't see their expressions quite yet but imagine they're likely harbouring those of profound jealousy at the shield that protects and warms us. Our protective group, who'll watch out for us as we train. And beside them, the carriage known as Worldshaker, Herald Kovas no doubt within.
"Time to train," I say as we go, turning my mind once more to the task.
Elian nods and we speed our step, walking together in rhythm and harmony.
76
A day passes, and several others follow. The storm fades and the skies lighten, beckoning in a period of fine weather. Our pathway begins to straighten out once more, becoming less circuitous and meandering, more direct. Our progress begins to speed, and a new energy starts to brew.
My mood swings alongside the changing of our fortunes, a stupid smile plastered to my face that I cannot seem to remove. More and more, I spend time with Elian, our spare hours spent training whenever we get a chance, our evenings spent together talking strategy, new techniques, battle plans we might ourselves deploy if, and when, we're act
ually unleashed.
As the other Heralds and senior Chosen continue with their war councils, so Elian and I enjoy our own; a response, as much as anything else, to our - and my, in particular - ostracisation and exclusion from such discussions. We fall into our mutual passion with great relish, spending so little time apart, including Hestia whenever possible to ensure she and her Fire-Blood troop are kept up to date with what we're doing.
And besides the daytime training and nighttime planning, and the fun we have in between, we continue to work together to police the camp. It is, to my surprise, on Elian's suggestion that we make sure to continue along the path I started, moving around the camp at night for an hour or so at least, keeping up appearances even as war draws near.
And though we draw ever closer to the inevitable, I feel little anxiety of what lies ahead. I suppose, mostly, that's down to simply keeping my mind on the task, to doing what I've started to do best, hour by hour, day by day. But I'd be remiss if I didn't recognise Elian's influence too. Is it me who sticks to my task, or Elian who makes sure I do so? He helps calm me, keeps me focused, and ensures that my mind doesn't waver.
I suppose the likes of Perses would be thankful for that, though I continue to get the feeling that Elian's not doing any of it for him. To the contrary, he grows cold at any mention of the man, scowling, if subtly, if ever we see him. No longer does he seem to try to impress him or please him. Now, he avoids him whenever possible, often departing on an 'errand', whatever that might be, should a run-in between the two look likely to arise.
I don't know why, and decide not to ask. What we've managed to fashion between us, this fine balance we've established, does more than keep me focused; it's beginning to make me happy. Why would I wish to risk wrecking that by poking at something that Elian is clearly upset by, toying with a raw nerve that is surely better left alone?
