The Warrior (Kiss Me at Midnight)

by S. S. Skye

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Book Details

  The Warrior

  About the Author

  The Warrior

  S.S. Skye

  Kiss Me at Midnight

  Edander has been at the Conservatory for twelve years, ever waiting and hoping for the day he finds a warrior with whom he can bond. But hope and opportunity are running out, and even the arrival of a promising stranger cannot quite convince him that perhaps his chance has come at last.

  Book Details

  The Warrior

  Kiss Me at Midnight Collection

  By S.S Skye

  Published by Less Than Three Press LLC

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission of the publisher, except for the purpose of reviews.

  Edited by Michael Jay

  Cover Illustration by V. Rios

  This book is a work of fiction and as such all characters and situations are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is coincidental.

  First Edition January 2013

  Copyright © 2013 by S.S. Skye

  Printed in the United States of America

  ISBN 97816200417833

  The Warrior

  It’s a new year; everything’s going to be different. It’s a new year; everything’s going to be–

  There was a streak of lightning, the following crack of thunder, and a sudden downpour of rain.

  –exactly the same.

  Edander sighed. He hadn’t really expected anything to change, but it had been nice to pretend that this year was going to be a little less hellacious, even just for the morning. He’d been deluded if he’d thought for one moment he’d receive some sort of reprieve in this kingdom. The clouds eternally brewed and the rain never stopped pouring and Edander couldn’t remember what it was like to be warm and dry.

  Sometimes, in the dark of the night, he thought about home, while the thunder crashed outside his window. Compared to this kingdom, most would consider it a desert, with the sun beating down and warm, dry breezes blowing through the open air houses in the afternoon. Rain was only a seasonal occurrence back home, and even then, it was nothing like the rain here, driving and biting and cold.

  With another sigh, he put it from his mind and kept trudging, thankful at least that the Conservatory had been designed by a competent architect who’d had it built almost entirely of stone. The ground might always be wet, but the great flagstones that made up the paths kept the mud to a minimum.

  Edander yelped in surprise as two boys came bounding through the planter of trees beside him, splashing him with mud as they whooped. "Hey!" he protested, though it was simply a bit more mud on an already mud-splattered coat, and it was still raining besides.

  "There’s a stranger in the Receiving Hall!" one of the boys called over his shoulder, before the two rounded a corner and disappeared from sight.

  Edander’s eyebrows ticked up a notch. He’d been at the Conservatory for a number of years, since his magic had first presented itself and he’d been sent there to learn to control his magic. Once he’d achieved that, he’d been forced to remain there, to wait until he could find a bondmate, that stabilizing force which would balance him out and keep him grounded as his power increased in breadth and strength as he matured. Outside of the Conservatory and without a bondmate, it would only be a matter of time before he either lost his control or went mad trying to keep it.

  While he'd lived there, the Conservatory had seen any number of arrivals every day, most of them mages who came seeking control and bondmates, the rest traders who did regular business bringing goods to the thousands of students and boarders who lived here. The one thing they did not get was strangers.

  Deciding against returning to the dorm barracks, where the rain would be unbearably loud on the roof and drive him just a little bit crazier, Edander cut around the same corner the boys had, making for the Receiving Hall.

  It was unsurprisingly crowded when he arrived. No doubt everyone in the Conservatory knew by now that there was a stranger.

  Edander couldn’t see from his vantage point, pressed against the wall not far from the door, but he could hear the Conservatory’s chancellor going through the welcome speech, and could hear the unintelligible answer in a deep baritone. He couldn’t understand what was being said, but he knew it would filter through the crowd quickly enough.

  As expected, it was only a few moments before the people around him started whispering bits and pieces to each other.

  "…very handsome…"

  "…suppose he thinks his scars look…"

  "…says he’s heading to war…"

  "…pity he’ll die and that voice’ll go…"

  "…didn’t see a bondmate; wonder if…"

  Edander slipped away then, having gotten enough of a gist to appease him. He was not much interested in the direction the gossip would soon take. It was a truth universally acknowledged, that a warrior in possession of his stars must be in want of a bondmate, and if the rumor was true that he was indeed unbonded, the stranger was going to find himself drowning in the sudden attentions of unattached mages.

  Edander knew better than to bother by now. In a kingdom as damp as this, it was hard for a mage who dealt in fire to truly excel. He’d managed well enough for himself, getting good marks in his studies and receiving his accreditation with no problems. This kingdom boasted more weather and water attuned mages than anything else, though, and mages with other affinities were scarce at the Conservatory. When warriors came looking, the professors were always sure to put their best pupils in the warriors’ ways. Edander had no such advantage.

  Rather than risk the public spaces in the Conservatory which would no doubt be flooded with gossip, he headed back to the dormitory. Relieved to find it empty, he sat to write his weekly letter home and then complete his reading for the next day’s seminar.

  When the rest of his dormmates finally wandered in in the wee hours of the morning, he was fast asleep at his desk.

  *~*~*

  The next day dawned a bleak gray, clouds hovering oppressively low and mist hanging in the air. Edander had woken up still slumped over his desk, a crick in his neck. His dorm was already half empty as he got up and stretched, moving stiffly to collect all he would need for the day.

  The corridors he favored were mostly deserted at this hour and they sheltered him from the weather when it became extreme. He still wouldn’t call them pleasant, but at least they kept him dry.

  As if on cue, the wind whistled in through a crack under one of the doors that lined the hallway, and Edander pulled the collar of his coat higher, trying to burrow into the scarf his mother had sent after his first year there. He’d been wholly unprepared for the cold that winter, but in the years since, he’d at least figured out how to survive, if not terribly comfortably.

  Too immersed in his thoughts, Edander didn’t see the person coming around the corner until too late. His nose smacked into what he thought might be the other person’s chest and he flailed as his balance shifted. Large hands clamped onto his elbows and they almost toppled over, before the person he’d crashed into tugged him forward. The ground steadied under him, but he only distantly noted it.

  Pulled into the other’s personal space, Edander felt a wave of heat wash over him and blinked stupidly for several moments before he realized how inappropriately close they were standing.

  He jerked back a couple steps, looking at his boots as he blurted, "Terribly sorry – my fault – wasn’t watching where I was going –" He started edging around the man he could just make out from the corner of his eye.

&n
bsp; Edander was making progress down the hall when the man called, "Wait!" He turned slightly to look, taking in a brief look of him finally. "I… can you tell me the way to the Chancellor’s offices?"

  He stared uncomprehendingly for a minute. "Uh… just head straight down this corridor until you reach the library. Take a right there, and then the next two lefts."

  The man shot him a grateful smile that showed a surprising number of teeth and that made the hallway seem a little brighter. He offered an absent thanks over his shoulder as he turned away and headed in the opposite direction.

  Edander was halfway down the corridor before he realized there were a limited number of people with business concerning the Chancellor and only one who wouldn’t know where her offices were.

  He tried to pull up a mental picture of the man he’d run into, so he could judge for himself how true the rumors of the stranger's appearance were. All he could summon, though, was that fleeting moment of finally feeling warm.

  *~*~*

  The afternoon found him in one of the practice courts, meditating and using his powers to shape a small flame to exercise his control. He drew it into a long wire, weaving it in and out around itself, a burning knot that floated in front of him and whose flames licked at his hands as he manipulated it.

  "I’ve never seen such control before."

  Edander startled, recalling his fire so quickly that he nearly scorched his fingers. He whipped around, finding he’d been joined at some point by the man he recognized as the stranger from earlier that day.

  The man held his hands up in a gesture of peace. "My apologies. I’ve never been a quiet person; I was sure you had heard me approach. It wasn’t my intention to alarm you."

  Edander waved his hand, as though dispelling some nonexistent smoke. "When I meditate, I miss most of what goes on around me." He didn’t mean to seem rude, but he was mostly sure he failed. "Was there something I could help you with?"

  He thought the stranger’s face might have fallen a bit, but he’d become distracted tracing the scars that crisscrossed the stranger’s face with his eyes. It took a moment for Edander to realize the stranger was talking again. "I didn’t mean to bother you. They told me I was free to wander the Conservatory, but it seems to be mostly empty and I’ve been a bit at a loss. I’ll admit, I was feeling a bit nosy when I came in here." He scrubbed a hand across the back of his head, looking remarkably sheepish for a man who Edander suddenly realized was dressed in a warrior’s everyday leathers. "I think perhaps I’ll just go," the man said, shifting his weight in the direction of the doorway.

  "You don’t have to," Edander blurted without thinking, having to scramble to keep up with his mouth. "I don’t mind the company; I just thought you must have some reason for being here. I had imagined they would keep you busy showing off all that the Conservatory has to offer."

  Weight shifting back and settling, the stranger grimaced, oddly guiltily. "I’m sure they would like to, but I’ve been begging out of everything they’ll let me."

  Edander cocked his head curiously, absently calling up a flame that he twined over and over through his fingers.

  The stranger started talking, though his eyes were fixed on Edander’s hands. "It’s a very nice university, but they seem to spend a great amount of time outdoors in this awful weather. I’ve just spent three weeks traveling through it. If I’ve only got two weeks to rest and await my messenger, I’m certainly not going to waste it being soaked through all the time." His nose wrinkled in distaste, though his gaze hadn’t wavered from the flame.

  Edander laughed softly, eyes on his flame. "If you’ve managed to stay dry, stranger, then you have managed more than I have in the dozen years I’ve lived here."

  "Ignifer."

  Edander looked up only to be caught by bright green eyes.

  "What?" Edander nearly rolled his eyes at himself. It would be entirely in keeping with his life that he would have the opportunity to speak with the stranger and be incapable of anything resembling intelligence.

  The stranger grinned at him, revealing a dimple nestled between what looked to be two nasty claw marks. "My name. It’s Ignifer. If I am to be intruding upon your day, I thought I had at least better introduce myself."

  "Oh. Yes, of course." Edander blinked mutely, several long moments passing before he remembered himself. "Oh! I am Edander. I…" He trailed off, clearing his throat self-consciously. "I don’t know how to entertain guests," he admitted, rather at a loss.

  The dimple deepened as Ignifer replied with a wink, "I’m not sure I know how to be one. I’m too much a warrior to find interest in anything but training courts and sparring matches." He stared at Edander, brows furrowed slightly in the middle, and continued, "I know it would be rude to ask, but… well, I’ve been from home so long, and it’s been such a time since I’ve seen a flame walker. I don’t suppose…?"

  Edander laughed quietly as he let the question hang. "Even back home, I’ve never heard of anyone who still called us that; I don’t know that I’ve ever actually walked in flames. But I’d be glad to oblige. I’ve few enough people to show off for, usually."

  So saying, he called up a single, long flame, quickly braiding it with other flames that he pulled to him. He kept going until he had a decent rope of fire, little licks flicking out here and there. Turning his back on the warrior, he tossed the flames to hang in front of him, quickly arranging it into the shape he’d chosen. With a final tweak, he stepped back, letting Ignifer see what he’d done.

  Ignifer laughed in delight, beaming at Edander. "It’s my name. I mean, of course, it’s my name, but I can actually read it as my name. In flames."

  Edander smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. "You must have been away from fire mages for a long time if you’re impressed by that." He wrinkled his nose, but his pleased smile wouldn’t go away. "It’s nothing but a party trick and I’m rusty, at best."

  Ignifer shook his head, still grinning. "It’s not as unimpressive as that, but I will admit, it’s been some time since I was last home." A shadow passed across his face, but it was gone in the blink of an eye and he was smiling again. "So what else does a fire mage do with himself?"

  Edander spent the rest of the afternoon showing Ignifer his own corners of the Conservatory – unglamorous places, perhaps, but they were dry ones, and the warrior seemed more than pleased with that. Throughout, he stuck close to Edander’s side, a warm and steady presence the mage stupidly found himself thinking he could get used to it.

  Ignifer had a nice laugh too, but Edander didn’t let himself think about that one at all.

  They separated at the dressing bells to go change for supper, and Edander reflected that this year might not be so bad.

  *~*~*

  He found himself rethinking that sentiment when, no sooner had he set foot in the Great Hall, he was being escorted to the high table.

  Ignifer smiled as Edander was seated next to him. He raised his wine in salute. "They must have found out you were playing guide for me." Edander glared at him in accusation. All he got in response was a bland smile, but that quickly cracked and turned to a smirk when Edander leveled him with a flat look. "I might have mentioned something to someone," Ignifer admitted, looking thoroughly pleased with himself.

  Edander rolled his eyes as he lifted his own wine to his lips, just the twitch of a smile visible. "And why would you tell them something like that?"

  "If I was going to be expected to attend these meals, I thought it might not be so bad if I had someone to talk to. Do you mind? After this afternoon, I had rather hoped you wouldn’t." He looked at Edander a touch worriedly.

  "No, of course not. I just—"

  He didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence, distracted by the runner who burst through a side door, sprinting for all he was worth toward the high table. He was a fairly young boy and he came to a stop only when he stood right in front of the Chancellor, clutching his knees as he panted.

  The Chancellor’s voice was sharp
as she stood to look over the table at him. "What exactly is the meaning of this?

  The boy was still panting, blinking rapidly as sweat dripped into his eyes. He had to take in a great gulping breath between each word, but they were still clear. "Brigands... attacking... caravan..."

  The Chancellor’s sharp intake of breath was audible only to the head table, but the tables closest could hear as she questioned him. "The Tierag Caravan?" The boy could only nod. "Alright, I need volunteers to help—"

  "They’ve... plant... mage..." The boy interrupted, before his knees gave way and he crumpled to the ground.

  "I’ll go." The words were out before Edander realized he was saying them, but he remained sure even as his brain caught up.

  A warm presence leaned close as Ignifer moved so he could see the Chancellor. "I volunteer as well. It’s the least I can do to repay your hospitality." From the lower tables came several other volunteers, until the Chancellor seemed satisfied with their number.

  It was a mere matter of minutes before they were riding from the Conservatory on hastily-saddled horses, heading down the route the caravan would have taken.

  Ignifer kept pace with Edander's horse, checking over a rather dizzying array of knives which, from what Edander could see, included two swords that had appeared strapped to Ignifer’s back.

  By horse, the journey to the besieged caravan took little time, and they could see it before they reached it. Great vines had sprouted from the sides of the road, tying down wagons and hobbling the horses. It looked as though the plant mage was still busy, more vines adorned with vicious looking spikes reaching for anyone who came too close to them.

  Edander was pulling up flames before they were quite in reach, long ropes trailing from his fingers, glad that the hostler had had enough sense to saddle Edander’s horse so his flames wouldn’t spook it. He heard the snick of blades being released from their scabbards behind him and a glance over his shoulder showed Ignifer lit only by the flames and the reflection off his swords.