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Dimension Shifter

Page 23

by T. M. Nielsen


  “Wait!” Alric interrupted. “No, do something else.”

  She nodded and looked around the lawn. A small bunny appeared out of the apple orchard and began to lick his paws on the fluffy grass.

  Alric followed her gaze, “You wouldn’t…”

  Without warning, Kyrin’s hands grew red, and she threw a flaming ball at it, hitting is squarely. It immediately burned down to the bone and the grass around it turned black.

  The elves were speechless. Magic was dead, yet they were seeing it first-hand. A murmur ran through them, and Kyrin looked at Alric, “What?”

  “That was a harmless bunny.”

  “Which serves no purpose. It’ll never be missed.”

  He was glad the elves were talking among themselves and didn’t hear what she said. Her evil ways were going to be harder to hide than he thought if she kept spouting off with things like that.

  “Qualsax cannot know,” Auldian said at long last.

  “They don’t,” Alric assured him.

  “If they find out that Sithias has a magic user, they will stage a war.”

  “Against both of your kingdoms at once?” Kyrin asked.

  Trox turned to her, “Qualsax doesn’t have the rules our kingdoms have.”

  “So you’re saying that Qualsax is much bigger because they don’t have to adhere to rules?” For some reason, she thought that was funny.

  “Yes, they are much bigger than both of our kingdoms combined,” Auldian told her. “The only reason they don’t attack us is that they are also lazy. If Erianah finds out you are a magic user though, that would all change.”

  “How would she find out?”

  Auldian turned to Alric, “Sithias knows?”

  “Of course.”

  “Has he considered that she might be an evil?”

  “Yes, that was what we first thought also.”

  “Well I’m not convinced she’s not.”

  Kyrin wandered over to the burnt grass to avoid getting in on the argument she saw coming. She didn’t care if they knew she was what this dimension called an evil.

  She looked back long enough to see that Alric and Auldian were still bickering, so she disappeared into the apple orchard. When she got to the tallest tree, she hiked her skirt up and climbed up into its branches. Once high above the ground, she leaned back with an apple and listened to the others.

  “If we deem her an evil, she will have to be destroyed,” Auldian snapped.

  “She’s not an evil and to destroy her, you have to come through my army,” Alric replied evenly.

  “I’m not afraid of your army.”

  “I still think this is senseless! We have the Qualsax after us, and we’re fighting. We have to stand united against them, or they will eventually take over.”

  “You’re right,” Auldian said, a lot calmer than before. “We’ll expect your magic user to protect us if the call comes though.”

  “I don’t control her.”

  “You should. She’s in your Kingdom.”

  Kyrin grinned, knowing neither of them could control her.

  “Well I don’t. She’s free to come and go as she pleases, and as you’ve seen, she doesn’t bow to my command,” Alric told him.

  “Then you need to get a grip on her.”

  “She’s a special case, and I’m sure Sithias will agree. She’s not part of my Kingdom and isn’t under his influence even.”

  “No, she’s not in your Kingdom, but she’s obviously your lover.”

  “I wouldn’t say that exactly,” Alric said, and she could tell by his voice that he was smiling.

  “Control her.”

  “She’s not mine to control.”

  “I’ll be talking to Sithias about this,” Auldian threatened.

  “Go ahead.”

  “Four of my assistants will be arriving to work out details of our peace treaty within the week.”

  “Very well, they are welcome here.”

  Kyrin looked over from her perch up high, and saw the elves heading out toward Valhara. She leaned back with another apple and watched until they disappeared.

  “Kyrin?” Alric called from in the orchard.

  When he passed below the tree she was in, she dropped down behind him, “Yes?”

  He turned quickly and shook his head, “You were up in a tree?”

  “Yes”

  “In a dress.”

  “Sure”

  He grinned at her, “You wouldn’t know proper etiquette if it slapped you in the face, would you?”

  “See, that’s your mistake,” she said, slowly circling him. “I know proper etiquette if I really try to think about it. The question then becomes, if I wish to follow it or not.”

  “Interesting”

  “Ever considered taking off the official tunic and climbing a tree once in a while?”

  “I do, maybe not literally.”

  “I haven’t seen you.”

  “I don’t do it often, especially in front of the people of Valhara.”

  “Why not? You’re the King. If you want to walk around naked, then they shouldn’t have a say in it.”

  He laughed at that, “I try not to.”

  “Well at least you can. You should relax a little.”

  “It is good to be King.”

  ***

  “Lady Kyrin?”

  Kyrin sighed and turned behind her, “Don’t call me that.”

  “I’m sorry.” The young tailor came in with a garment bag and bowed.

  “First off, don’t bow either. Second, I don’t need any more clothes. I have three entire outfits already.”

  “I thought… well… I heard what you said… to the other tailor. I thought you might like this.” His nervousness irritated her.

  “What is it?”

  “A dress… sort of.”

  This caught her attention, “What do you mean?”

  “Well, we’d need to check with the King… but it’s not long, as is proper…”

  She smiled, “Really? Let me see.”

  Kyrin took the bag and disappeared behind the dressing curtain. She pulled the dress out and was fairly impressed. It was deep blue and gray, and had no embellishments or jewels. The top was a halter top with an under shirt of dark gray and the skirt was full, but would only come to her knees.

  She slipped it on and looked in the mirror. It was much nicer than the tunic she wore every day, but not nearly as fancy as what they usually made her wear. She moved a bit behind the curtain and saw that it wouldn’t restrict her movements at all. The body was fitted and not at all bulky, and she had free range of motion with her flail.

  Kyrin came out and smiled, “I like it.”

  “We still, well we have to get it approved through the King.” He said, looking over his work.

  “Why’s that?”

  “It’s not proper.”

  “Well he’s not my King, and I like it.”

  “We still…”

  “No, we don’t. Now can you make me a way to hold my flail?”

  He nodded and then rushed off.

  Kyrin had to smile. Alric was going to love the dress, even with its modifications. It wouldn’t inhibit a fight, so she thought she may actually like it. Because it was fitted on the top and flowing on the bottom, she didn’t think it would get in the way at all, and it was much cooler than the tunic and pants she’d been wearing.

  It wasn’t but an hour later when the young tailor returned with a belt made out of the same material as the gray shirt. It was thick and accentuated her small waist, but had a loop for her flail that fit perfectly. She was nervous about looking as feminine as she did, but figured she wouldn’t wear it out of Paragoy anyway.

  “Perfect!” Kyrin said, slipping her flail into her belt.

  “Ma’am… I need to get permission, please.” The tailor seemed even more nervous.

  She turned to look at him, “Why?”

  “I’m new. I can’t cause problems or I could get sent back to
the village.”

  “You designed this dress?”

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  “Stop calling me Ma’am.”

  “Yes… ok.”

  “Let’s go talk to Alric.”

  “What!?” His eyes grew wide.

  “Alric, your King.”

  “I know who he is. I just… why bother him?”

  “Because I have an idea,” she said, and started out the door. The nervous tailor followed her and kept watching around him. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be walking around the palace with the Lady, and he knew he wasn’t supposed to be designing dresses for her.

  When she knocked on Alric’s office door, the young tailor cringed and sunk back slightly away from her.

  “Who is it?” Alric called out.

  “Me,” she said, and then glanced behind her.

  “Come in.”

  Kyrin opened the door into the massive office. She often suspected she could fit Creteloc’s entire home into his office, and it seemed ostentatious, but so were so many other things in Paragoy.

  “Hello,” he said, smiling. Alric stood and moved to her and then kissed her lightly after taking her hands.

  She backed away, still irritated that he held her hands, and turned, “I want him as my tailor.”

  Alric was looking down at her dress, “Wow.”

  She looked down, “What?”

  “You’re wearing a dress, and no one died.”

  “This one… I like.”

  “I’ve never seen anything like it,” he said, and walked around her. A proper dress had long sleeves with billowing cuffs, long, full skirts with petticoats and sometimes even a hoop, and low necklines.

  “That’s why I want this tailor.”

  Alric looked up at the tailor, who was just starting to back out of his office, “Who are you?”

  The tailor bowed deeply, “Dison, Sir.”

  “You made this?”

  Dison simply swallowed hard and nodded.

  Alric grinned, “How did you get her into it?”

  Kyrin slapped him on the arm, “He didn’t force me. I told you, those dresses you all put me in don’t allow me free movement. If I can’t fight, then I won’t wear it.”

  “I… I… well… I heard… and then…,” Dison mumbled, looking at the floor.

  “Are you afraid of me?” Alric asked him.

  “Sir?”

  “You look like you’re going to have a heart attack.”

  “Well…”

  Kyrin sighed, “He’s afraid because apparently he thought he had to get the designs for this dress approved by you.”

  Alric grinned sheepishly, “That is true.”

  “Why do you have to approve my clothes?”

  “It’s not that exactly. You’re… well… for all intents and purposes, barely dressed.”

  Kyrin looked down, “I’m covered.”

  “We’re just used to women being more covered.”

  “And helpless.”

  “That too.”

  “Well either he’s my tailor, or I go back to pants.”

  Alric leaned back on his desk, “Dison… you came up with this?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Based on what she said to someone?”

  “To the head tailor, Sir.”

  He smiled, “Perfect.”

  “I can move in it,” Kyrin explained. “There aren’t any long sleeves to get caught on things, and no long skirts. He even gave me a spot for my flail.”

  “Yes, I saw that.”

  “If he’s going to take the time to listen to me, then he’s the only one I want to sew for me.”

  “No one, not even me, has a personal tailor.”

  “Then I don’t need a tailor at all. I already have three entire outfits,” she said, crossing her arms.

  Alric studied her, appreciating how the dress showed off her figure, “Fine. Dison is your personal tailor.”

  Dison’s eyes grew wide, “Sir?”

  “Tell the Head Tailor that you are Kyrin’s personal tailor.”

  Dison nodded, bowed, and then left quickly.

  Alric tensed when he felt the hair on his neck stand up again. His entire body was suddenly on edge and he looked around, as if a dark shadow should have covered the land.

  “What’s wrong?” Kyrin asked, frowning.

  “I feel an evil again.”

  “I’m right in front of you.”

  “No, a greater evil,” he said, looking out the window. “I’ve felt it before. Once when Creteloc came to me, and then when Daemionis is in Paragoy.”

  She smiled, “Creteloc’s here?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Other than those times, you’ve never felt it?”

  “No, and it’s making me nervous.”

  “I can go look.”

  He turned toward her and then smiled, “No, stay in here where it’s safe.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Or… just stay in here with me?”

  “Depends, are you going to hold my hands?”

  “Yes”

  “That’s getting old.”

  “You still tense when I kiss you,” he said, moving toward her slowly. “Until you stop, I have to hold your hands.”

  “I told you I won’t cast on you.”

  “I don’t trust you.”

  She couldn’t help but smile, “That’s probably not a bad idea.”

  “Why would Creteloc be here?” he asked, now just inches from her.

  “I don’t know. She does what she wants.”

  “She’s your friend. I figured you’d know.”

  “Creteloc doesn’t have friends,” she said, backing up until her back hit the wall.

  “Running from me?” he asked, leaning toward her with his hands behind her on the wall.

  “I don’t run.”

  He grabbed her wrists in his hands and then kissed her softly. She fought to get her hands loose, but couldn’t.

  After a few minutes, Kyrin turned her face away from him, “Let my hands go.”

  He shook his head and then began to kiss her neck, working his way up to her lips again. She hated how his kiss made her stomach flutter and how her body seemed to draw closer to him. As much as it made her nervous, part of her craved it and couldn’t help but respond if he persisted.

  When he broke the kiss and let her hands go, she was able to compose herself enough to sound on the verge of being angry, “Stop holding my wrists!”

  “No”

  “Then stop kissing me and you won’t have to hold my wrists.”

  He grinned, “No to that too.”

  Without another word, Kyrin spun on her heels and walked out, furious when she heard him laugh behind her. She hit the stairs running and ran out into the apple orchard to get away from him.

  By the time she hit the trees, she was mad and didn’t care who saw her. Engaging her boots of speed when she hit the tree line, she flew through the forest. When she was far enough from the castle to know she was alone, she slowed down and looked around.

  While she inwardly yelled at herself for the feelings her body put out for Alric, she looked around the area. She hadn’t been this far north before and wanted to see what she could find.

  The more she thought about Alric the madder she became and tears started to form in her eyes. She knew better than to let herself get attached to a man, and figured Creteloc would probably punish her if she were to find out.

  She couldn’t fight the tears, the main reason she’d run from the castle, and finally sat down and buried her face. It wasn’t often she cried, but when she did she preferred to be alone. The feelings she had for Alric were in conflict to what she learned growing up and while running from the Shadowmere.

  “Venduii”

  Kyrin sprang to her feet when she heard the soft voice. She turned slightly and faced the shadow elf that stood before her, “Hello.”

  The way he moved was indicative of an Assassin,
so she slowly grabbed her flail and kept a close eye on him.

  He smiled, “You are going to fight me with a weapon?”

  “Yes”

  “Why not use magic? I heard it’s not banned here.”

  “Are you a shifter?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

  “No, I was led here.”

  “By who?”

  “You know who,” he said, and began to circle her. She spun with him, never letting him at her back.

  “Why would Daemionis send you here?”

  “To watch over you.”

  “I don’t need a tender.”

  “Don’t you? You’ve fallen in love with a human in this dimension… a good aligned dimension.”

  “I have not.”

  “Daemionis tends to disagree.”

  She sighed, “So you’re to stay here now?”

  “For a while. Just to see where this is going.”

  “I’m not sure Sithias or Alric will agree to that.”

  “They don’t have a choice, do they?”

  “They could send me packing,” she said, starting back for the castle.

  “Not dressed like that they won’t,” he said, and she could tell that beneath the dark hood, he was grinning.

  “Don’t insult me. I don’t like you already.”

  “Then don’t dress like a girl.”

  “Shut up!”

  He followed behind her, though she couldn’t hear his footsteps. She’d learned with Creteloc not to expect a single noise out of a well-trained Assassin, and it shocked her when she heard a tiny twig snap. He paused and then continued to follow her.

  “New to walking?” she asked him as they neared the orchard.

  He didn’t answer, so she smiled and walked to the castle. The Knights instantly moved to block the dark figure from entering the castle.

  Kyrin turned around when she heard the Assassin unsheathe his dagger and step back.

  “He’s with me,” she said, though she wished he wasn’t.

  “We cannot let him enter.”

  “Then bring Alric down.”

  “To face this dark one? No.”

  Kyrin shook her head when the shadow elf tried to fade into the shadows and managed to fall on his way, knocking over a suit of armor that stood beside the door.

  The Knights chuckled, “Issues?”

  “You’re sure Daemionis sent you?” Kyrin asked him.

  “Yes,” he whispered, still trying to be cool and calm, when he’d managed to attract half of the castle.

 

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