by Brindi Quinn
I had, of course, made up my mind about Nyte’s age long ago, so I was certain that such a thing was a lie, but I was still too shocked to retort. I knew he wasn’t an old soul, but still, if that girl really had been two or three decades and she still appeared a child, then someone looking like Nyte should’ve been . . .
But Nyte stepped behind me and wrapped his arms around my neck. “Do I seem like an old man to you?” The back of my neck erupted in warmth.
“No.” My heart drummed a tempo that was much too quick for my body to keep up with. Again, that conviction that Nyte was as young as he appeared was reinforced.
“Disgusting.” Ardette turned away from us.
Warm. I closed my eyes and let Nyte rest against my back. Just a little more before . . . I stepped away from his embrace. “I’m sorry. It’s getting to be a little too much again.”
Nyte’s brow-line furrowed, and a hurt once again crossed his eyes. I hated doing that to him – and to myself. But it’s for your sake, Nyte. Until we can figure this all out.
“Ah, anyway,” I said, trying to recover from the rejection I’d just delivered, “all people born of Elf and Daem have those sorts of powers? Amazing.”
Nyte’s brow-line relaxed a bit, but only a bit. He shook his head and said, “It was not her lineage that gave her such power. It was the scale that she carried.”
“The scale?” I asked.
He nodded. “It is one of the ancient treasures of Sredna, all of which were confiscated by the Druelcans at the time of Elder Nosrac’s treaty. It is only by the scale’s power that that woman possesses the ability to transform.”
“That’s right,” said Ardette, glancing over his stiff shoulder, “you have one of them too, don’t you, Nyte?”
“Huh?” I looked to Nyte for elaboration. Did Ardette mean he somehow had a scale like that?
But my inquisitive stare was pointless; Nyte appeared not to know what Ardette was referring to either. “What manner of confusion are you trying to spur now?” he said through gritted teeth.
“Never mind,” said Ardette, both his tone and smile arrogant.
It was frustrating.
A clearly-disturbed Nyte studied the discord-loving Daem suspiciously. There were a few moments of awkward, too-still silence where even the wind seemed to feel out-of-sorts. It remained static as though to give us an opportunity to reflect on the quandaries of our trio. But it was far too uncomfortable for any resolution or reflection to be met.
Someone say anything.
“Wait!” Luckily, I suddenly remembered something that would serve to break apart the heavy discomfort. “She was a woman but . . . did she really want to eat me?” I gulped even before the last bit of question was out, instantly regretting the choice of topic that had only served to replace my discomfort with disturbance.
Ardette gave a great, sinister grin. “Most likely. After all, who doesn’t want to devour you in some way?”
~
Evening was quickly approaching, but we wouldn’t make camp. Crystair lay just ahead, and we’d definitely find lodging there.
As we made our way towards the glittering city’s outskirts, I inconspicuously studied Nyte from the corner of my eye – as I’d been doing for a while now – but I was forced to dart my eyes away from him in an entirely too-suspicious manner when he unexpectedly said,
“You may ask me.”
“Eh!? Ask?” My attempt at sounding offhanded failed miserably.
A smirk crossed his lips. “Not that it displeases me to have your gaze upon me in such a way, of course.”
I blushed. Apparently I hadn’t been as ‘inconspicuous’ as I’d thought. “Er, all right then. How does it work?”
“It?”
“The aging thing. I’m just curious.”
“I thought you were ‘quite certain’ you already knew my age. Is that not what you insisted back in Yh’tak?”
“Hey!” I feigned annoyance. He laughed.
“Really,” I said, “I haven’t changed my mind about that, but if she really was that old it just doesn’t make sense.”
“The process is reversed. At some point, I will begin to age slowly, and at some point, that woman will begin to age at a pace akin to yours.”
“So, that’s how it is.” Why did I feel so relieved? “Then, how long will you live?”
“Is that not up to the Creator?”
I rolled my eyes.
“Although,” he continued, “if my time comes, you would rush in and save me with your song again, correct?”
“And if I’m not around?”
“I fear I will have to stay by your side at all times, then. But only for my own safety, of course.”
“Blegh.” Ardette interrupted us with a loud, forced dry-heave.
“Cute,” I said curtly.
Nyte’s nostrils flared, but he said nothing.
Ardette said nothing more and stared off at the distant city’s gates. As usual, he was wearing that ‘mask’, but lately it was like the mask was getting weaker . . . or maybe he just wasn’t trying so hard to conceal his true feelings anymore. Even now I could see a bit of sadness lining the corners of his bored face.
It must be hard for him to be around us like this. At least with the others along there was some distraction, but now . . .
“I’m sorry, Ardette.” The words subconsciously escaped my lips, though I’d only meant to think them. I immediately wished they’d remained unspoken, for at their utterance, Ardette stiffened and turned towards me with a beaming, plotting smile on his face.
“Sorry?” he said. “Why, whatever are you sorry for, my cherry pit? Oh, that’s right. You must be referring to the battle earlier. You remember me saying I’d have you ‘make it up to me later’?”
“No, that’s not-”
“My, my, how kinky! If I’m not mistaken, I believe you’re asking me to punish you in some way?” Ardette’s hand flickered to shadow and he started towards me. “Well, very well then-”
“Enough,” said Nyte.
In an act of chivalry, he sprang in front of me to block whatever ‘punishment’ Ardette had been about to deliver. I hadn’t, of course, been anticipating this save, so I slammed into Nyte’s back, stumbled forward, and tripped, hitting my knee on a sharp piece of scrap metal protruding from the ground.
“Uh!” I winced upon sharp, cold contact. The metal dug in only deep enough to cause a scrape, but the shallowness of the cut throbbed.
“Ah! Miss Hav- Aura! Forgive me!”
“Way to go, Elf! See what you’ve done now?”
Both of them bent down to help . . .
“I’m fine, real-”
. . . but Nyte’s hand was first to reach me. I couldn’t even finish my protest.
It became instantly clear just how gravely the concern-filled Elf felt about what had happened, for he was letting his spirit loose at an alarming rate. An entirely too-generous pour-in of warmth overtook me.
No! You have to get back! But even as I thought the words, I couldn’t help myself. I grabbed Nyte’s hand from my knee, entwined my trembling fingers in his, and pulled in even more.
“Aura! You can’t!” Ardette understood that hungry look in my eyes, and he started to push Nyte’s warm hand away, but it was too late. My entire body was already infused with spirit.
Feel yourself growing stronger! Take it all!
No! Please!
You need this.
Please . . . please . . . I don’t want to hurt him . . . please.
I grabbed my wrist with my other hand and tried to yank myself away, but the fingers woven between Nyte’s were like the gripping talons of a monster far stronger than I. I couldn’t break myself loose. Again, Nyte’s stare was blank and murky.
“These occurrences,” said Ardette, reaching toward us again, “are starting to get tiring. But alas, I guess I’ll have to put a stop to it again-”
But a betrayal on my part forced him to stop. The once-faithful hand gripp
ing my wrist turned on me, lifting into the air and latching itself around Ardette’s neck before he could follow through. I could only look on in confused horror at the ugly side of me that was taking over.
“Er?” He stiffened in surprise but didn’t resist.
“No!” I shrieked at my hand, incredibly ashamed for the actions I couldn’t control.
I could feel Ardette’s Adam’s apple beneath my palm, his warm pulse against my fingertips.
Squeeze! The addiction urged. He wants to steal the warmth!
No! I won’t . . . I won’t . . .
“I’m . . . so . . . sorry.” I could only mouth the words and look at him with eyes full of apology. Change to shadow, Ardette. Flicker away from me, please! Or at least peel my hands from your neck; you could surely toss me away easily!
But his cherry eyes only stared back into mine, and on his face there was contentment.
You need to show him that the warmth belongs to you alone.
NO! I DON’T WANT THE WARMTH THAT BADLY!
Inside my head, I sobbed.
In one hand, I was clutching a murky-eyed Nyte and still pulling in unnecessary power; in the other, I held Ardette’s neck and struggled not to squeeze. I was the spoke on a spinner’s wheel, forced to hold my ground amidst the spinning that threatened to wear me down. With the edges of the world pressing in on me with each spin, I had to push back out, or the balance would break, and the wheel would crumble. What a straining cycle, remaining strong-limbed only to resist such pressure, but then, the spinning was what I was made for. Without the spinning there would be no spoke.
I really am a monster. How has it gotten to be this way? While I wallowed in self-loathing, desperately trying to draw my hands back, one of the internal sobs escaped me.
Ardette reacted to the sob in a way I couldn’t have predicted.
His pupils started a rapid dilation that was over before I realized it’d even begun, making him suddenly appear like an excited cat after its prey. Though my hand resisted, he pushed himself forward in a burst of aggressive strength and jammed his lips against mine.
What?! I was angry and startled for only a moment until . . . Oh . . .
My insides started to get cloudy. Ardette was pushing his shadow into me, down my windpipe, and into the depths of my body.
Warmth . . . and . . . shadow . . .
Everything around me grew foggy, but I felt both hands loosen their harmful grips.
Thank . . . you . . .
The shadow was swimming freely within me, but Ardette was now kissing me like a lover, holding my heavy head in the palm of one hand and clasping my now-limp wrist in the other. I was tingly and growing confused, and the world was heavy, but the kiss felt smoky and good.
The last thing I remembered before losing consciousness was kissing him back.
Chapter 3: The Reunion
The room was hazy. No, those were just my own eyelashes getting in the way of my sleepy, half-closed eyes. I tried again. This time I was able to open them fully, but it was only a second before my lids came together once again. I’d let them have their way awhile longer. My body felt heavy, like it was full of sand.
I tried to groan, but nothing came out.
Where am I?
There were murmured voices somewhere close by. I couldn’t focus on much with this heaviness, but still I strained my senses in an attempt to escape its weight.
Come on. Listen.
But the sand was getting in the way, and after only a moment or two of pushing against it, I realized such a thing was futile. The harder I pushed, the more my mind wanted to shut back down along with my body.
This bed is comfy.
Actually, it was too comfy, and it easily convinced me to give-up my fight and return to the absence of thought.
Oh, alright. I relaxed and allowed myself to be suffocated into silent compliance.
But instead of fading altogether, the murmurs became stronger. It seemed that by stopping struggling, I was able to clear up enough space to focus somewhat.
It was then that I was finally able to discern an arrogant, bored voice through my sandy thoughts.
“One thing is certain,” it said. “We cannot allow them to touch until we speak to the elder ourselves. To think he would willingly give that thing to him is quite appalling if you ask me.”
Is that . . . Ardette? Ardette is near me? That’s good. I felt the sand thin slightly with the understanding.
“Do ya think that’s the truth, though?” said a second voice. “See, I can’t figure out why the elder would have it in the first place, so I’m thinkin’ he only thinks that’s where it came from.”
And that voice is . . . Grotts? The sand within me shook a bit with excitement, freeing up even more space to think. Yes, such a gruff voice was most certainly the burly, good-natured Yes’lechian. Thank Creator. And if he’s here, then Kantú must be too!
I tried to sit up, but again I was too weighted. I could barely open my eyes, let alone move something as heavy as muscle. Once again, I surrendered to the sand.
“Oh,” said Ardette, “and just what are you suggesting? A conspiracy of some sort? How intriguing.” In reality, he didn’t sound the least bit intrigued.
“Could be his memory was messed up, not just lost. After seein’ what happened, I’m not sure what ta think.”
“Well, there is that, I suppose. They’ve asked me to help unlock those memories, so it could be that he doesn’t really know, himself. What a bothersome person. Completely unreliable and uncouth.”
Grotts chuckled. “Well, I dunno if ‘e’s uncouth necessarily.” He paused for a moment, and when he spoke again, he sounded troubled. “But if he’s an emulator, then what’s that mean fer Miss Aura?”
“How should I know? Really, why they send us off with so little information is beyond me. I’ll bet good ‘ol Scardo knows more than he lets on too. By the way, what do you think I should do about her forgotten memories?”
“Ya mean of that night? I dunno. The officers wanted em left that way, didn’t they?”
“Well, I for one am through relying on those old fogies. I think that resurfacing them could be helpful.”
“But do ya really want ‘er ta know? Won’t it just be more painful for ‘er?"
“Yes, well, once the Elf finds out, he’ll most likely tell her anyways. That is, if he’s not too ashamed. The villain.”
“Still goin’ on about that? I understand that havin’ the gal ya’ve admired yer whole life bein’ choked in front of ya, and then havin’ ‘em fallin’ in love with the guy who did it must not be easy but-”
“Oh, spoken to Darch lately, have you? Damn Magir doesn’t know how to keep his mouth shut.”
Grotts grumbled but didn’t get a chance to answer. There was a knock at the door followed by the creaking of hinge.
“Yo, Grotts,” said a voice. The voice sounded familiar, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on whose it was. “Hey man, I understand if you want to be left alone, but Bergra’s niece says she really needs to talk to you.”
“Er, sure, Kugar. I’ll be right down.”
Oh, right. That’s Kugar. Then that means . . . we’re at his inn?
The door shut.
“Well, whatever are you waiting for? Wouldn’t want to keep Bergra’s niece waiting, for heaven’s sake, would you?” Ardette seemed annoyed.
“Heh. Don’ do anything uncouth to the Pure Heart while I’m out, okay?”
“Hm, I just might have to, now that you’ve spoken against it.”
A bed creaked heavily like it was sighing at the release of Grotts’ weight. There were heavy footsteps followed by another door creak and slam, and then it was silent. I was alone with Ardette, left to contemplate the strange conversation.
They have to talk to an elder about ‘touching’ and about something someone gave to someone? My head was too sandy to understand it at all, but one thing was clear: I needed to have both of our memories unblocked if I ever wanted
to escape this hopeless oblivion. And then there was one more thing . . . ‘Admired yer whole life’ . . . But how is that possible? We met only how long ago?
But those thoughts came to an abrupt halt when I felt a heavy presence on the edge of my bed. Ardette was leaning or sitting or something just off to my side. Even with my eyes closed, I could feel the weight of his stare.
Er . . . What should I do? I don’t want him to know that I heard, but I don’t want to be like a sneak either . . . but I really can’t get up right now . . . And then without the distraction of murmur, the tiredness started to overtake me again. I really can’t get up . . . Can’t get up . . . My thoughts trailed off, and I almost fell back to sleep.
Indeed, I would have if Ardette hadn’t spoken just then. “Songstresses really are like angels, aren’t they?” His voice was a whisper to himself, but it was enough to pull me back from the edges of dream.
The interest of an angel . . .
This time when I tried to open my eyes, they moved sluggishly but cooperatively. I rolled my head to the side and dozily searched for his face.
“Egad. Have I awoken you, my angel?”
Ardette was sitting on a chair, resting his chest against the side of the bed, and holding his cheek in his curled fist.
“Good . . . morning,” I said quietly with an entirely unattractive rumble in my voice. Gross. I cleared my throat and pulled the covers up under my chin to hide my slumpy self away.
He sat up and smirked. “Care for a snuggle, my cherry pit? Now that we’ve broken the barriers of intimacy?”
Intimacy?
It was then that I remembered precisely what had happened before I’d fallen unconscious. Along with the cocky grin he now flashed at me, came the memory of him ramming his lips against mine and then taking advantage of my fogged-up state to seduce me into returning the gesture. That memory rushed back like it had just happened, fueling my tired body with anger.
Psh! N-no! Like hell, I want a snuggle from you, you violating, kissing, ill-mannered – But when I opened my mouth, the only thing that came out was, “Un-uh.”
