by Aimee Moore
“I am Seraphine of Lambston.”
“An unremarkable, provincial little village further west than any of us care to spare a thought to.”
“And yet you spare enough thought to don the wool of my village on your back this moment. Enjoy it, for Lambston is no more.”
Sol Lalpund's expression changed from boredom to intrigue. “Why should we offer hospitality to a beast? It is because of his kind that your village is presumably dead and the world beyond our walls crumbles to the skies. Tell us why we should not throw him into a cell and force the truth from him. He is the first Kraw captive we have taken, an asset like that is a turning point to the war, whether he is willful or not.”
I glanced at Dal, who was watching me with a neutral expression, trusting in me to find resolution. Mindrik watched as well. No one offered aid to my fight for Dal.
I raised my chin. “If you wish to act like the animals you are being slaughtered as, then I will not stop you. But I will stop you from locking my friend away like a criminal when he offers himself freely as an ally.”
Sol Vraldok gave a snort, and Sol Lalpund smirked.
“Do you know to whom you speak?” Sol Lalpund asked.
“I speak to three men who are shrouded in wealth and blinded by arrogance,” I said. “If we continue in this way, everyone will die in this war and it will not matter what we wear or where we hail from. I have leveled a battlefield of Kraw for the man chained next to me, and I will level a thousand battlefields more, human or Kraw, for his safety.”
I let my fire simmer within me. The three councilmen flicked gazes down at my hands again, and I glanced to see flames licking their way up my arms. I pulled my fire inward.
“She speaks the truth,” Mindrik said in a neutral voice, and all eyes were on him. “I have witnessed her power, and I owe her my life because of it.”
I inclined my head ever so slightly as I looked into his eyes, a silent thank you.
The councilmen all exchanged glances. “Well then,” Sol Lalpund said, turning to me. “If your conviction for the creature is so—"
“Dal.”
“Excuse me?”
“His name is Dal. He is not a creature. He is not a beast. His name is Dal.”
The councilmen gave each other perplexed looks before Sol Lalpund turned to me again. “As I was saying, if your conviction for this Dal is so strong then be it upon your shoulders should he harm a single person in the city of Elanthia.”
“If not a single person in Elanthia brings me harm, then they too shall pass unharmed. Dal is my guard, gifted to me by Patroma, the Eyes and Ears of the Kraw Warlord.”
The councilmen exchanged glances of obvious surprise.
Sol Vraldok spoke up. “It seems we have much to discuss. Come, we shall remove the chains from your, ah... Dal, and find rest and food for all of you. Tomorrow, the council will gather and we will speak of this war.”
I glanced at Dal as we were led into the grand castle. Finally, food and rest and answers.
✽✽✽
After an evening of squabbling over living quarters, I finally managed to get a magnificent room to myself, with Dal's own attached guard quarters. The room was usually reserved for delegates under heavy guard, not “country bumpkins” such as me. Mindrik was across the hall from me, in a smaller room, pouting about the arrangements.
Dal was out of place as he walked around the fine furnishings in nothing but ragged pants, his chains removed. We were alone in our quarters, and a meal was to be delivered soon. I told them to deliver double what they thought we would need, and they agreed, eyeing Dal with speculation.
Dal said on a sigh, “This room is like being in a child's overstuffed doll house.”
I smiled as I sat on a chair upholstered with fine blue silk. “Kraw children have dollhouses?”
Dal turned to me. “You thought that Kraw children only played with axes?”
“Well, I didn't exactly see dollhouses or lace in any of the Kraw camps. The small boy caught in the trap certainly never had a dollhouse.”
Dal gave a soft smile as he sat next to me. “My son had just learned to walk when he was taken from me. He favored toy war wagons and a small version of the Warlord himself.” Dal held his thumb and forefinger apart just high enough to encompass the size of a small human doll no taller than an apple.
I watched him, sadness in my eyes. “I have never heard you speak of your son like this. What was his name?”
“Lojar, after the scholar whom I studied under.”
“It's so awful... what they did to him. Your own people.”
“The warriors of my people live by different rules. In my home world, things are civil, much like this capital. But to be a warrior is to follow different laws, suffer different consequences, almost be a different race. The Warlord is such because he is very good at saving worlds. He is efficient, merciless, power without equal, and has never failed.”
“How long has he been Warlord?”
Dal looked at me, giving a noise in his throat as he thought. “Hm. Over three hundred of your years, that is the only way I know to say it.”
I gasped. “Dal... how old are you?”
Dal shifted with a frown of concern. “Humans attach much significance to things like age, when really they are of little consequence.”
“Dal. How old?”
Dal let off a soft breath, looking into my eyes. “I am nearly two hundred of your years, Sera.”
My jaw dropped. “But that's, that's—"
“Very young for my species. Perhaps equivalent to a man of your species in his twentieth year, which I believe you to be approaching.”
“Well, yes, but by the math... Your people live to be almost a thousand years old?”
“Closer to seven or eight hundred of your years.”
“How old was that child in the Kraw camp? The one that I nearly got us killed for?”
Dal furrowed his brow as he thought. “Perhaps ten of your years.”
My eyes got wide. “He looked to be no more than six.”
Dal gave a nod, his gaze holding my own. “Our young are a long commitment,” he said slowly.
I sighed, letting my eyes travel down the intricate lines of Dal's tattoos. Two hundred years’ worth of them. It was mind boggling. I stole a glance at his eyes to see him watching me, and I smiled and traced my finger down the tattoo I had been looking at. It ended on a harsh symbol on his right pectoral. “What does this one mean?”
Dal glanced down, then back to me. “It is a spell.”
“Like a spell put on you or a spell you can use on others?”
Dal glanced away, thinking for a moment, before turning back to me. “A spell upon me is the closest way for you to understand.”
“What does it do?” I whispered, following the bold black lines.
“All Kraw carry this mark. It keeps our allegiance in check.”
I furrowed my brow up at Dal. “Allegiance?”
Dal let a long breath out of his nose. “You know so little of me. And yet you look at me as if it is all you need.”
I looked away, letting my hand drop. “You have your secrets, and I have none.”
Just as Dal opened his mouth to speak, a knock sounded at the elaborate door, and a man came in bearing a cart full of food. The smells made my stomach growl as if an angry raccoon were in the room, and I thanked the man and waited until he left before lifting every lid and smelling everything. I poked at some of the dishes for signs of being tampered with.
“No, Sera, it is not poisoned.”
“Poison would be an easy way to get you out of the way, or at least incapacitated enough to cooperate. Once I'm not here to pretend to protect you anymore it's that much easier,” I said.
Dal picked up a game hen and sniffed at it. “They value me for questioning, so we can assume that they want me alive. And I do not smell poisons of any sort here. Eat your fill, Sera, you need it.”
I needed no further encouragement.
I devoured a little bit of everything, groaning in bliss at each bite.
Dal ate three large game hens – bones and all – before moving on to most of the water and anything else his heart desired. I watched him pick and taste things, now that I was too full to fit any more food in my stomach. I laughed at the faces he made at some things, and made a note to myself of all the things that he did like so that I could prepare them for him in the future. I found it curious and endearing that Dal was especially fond of a pickled cactus, according to the jar.
“What about this is tantalizing to you?” I asked as I wrinkled my nose and chewed. “It's too bitter and salty.”
Dal gave a short noise of thought as he grabbed another piece. “There is a food in my home world much like this.” Then he glanced at my plate with various cakes and pastries. “What about those appeals to you?”
I looked down at the delicate crumbs and smears of frosting. “Have you tried them yet?”
“No. They do not look appetizing. There are no spines and the colors are too pale.”
I smiled. “Prepare to be proven wrong, Dal. Have some water to wash away that awful cactus and try a bite.”
Dal gave a wary look to the fluffy pink slice of cake I was pulling toward me and downed some water. I got a good chunk of cake and frosting on my fork and stuck it in his mouth, watching the way his lips closed over the metal. Dal leaned back and chewed, betraying nothing as he took his time with the cake.
“Well, what do you think?” I asked.
Dal looked at me for a moment, then reached forward and grabbed the rest of the cake for himself. “It is agreeable.”
I laughed. “Admit it, you like it.”
“It tastes of flowers. Kraw do not like flowers.” He shoveled a large hunk into his mouth.
“It's rose flavored,” I said with a smile. “And you can't stop eating it.”
After a time, Dal and I had finally had our fill, and we sat back with sighs of satisfaction.
“I haven't eaten that well in... well, since before I was captured,” I said.
“Your race appreciates nourishment. I count myself lucky to be here.”
I turned to Dal. “Only because of the food?”
“No. I have also found everlasting friendship and trust. It pains me to be separated from such a strong bond, we should have invited Mindrik.”
I burst out laughing. “I'm beginning to think the food was poisoned after all.”
Dal gave a deep laugh, standing and pacing about the room.
“What are you looking for?” I asked.
“This becomes tiresome,” Dal said, pulling at a lock of his black hair. It had been long enough to tie back for some time now.
“Do you want it cut off or tied?” I asked.
Dal glanced at me. “I wish not to be inconvenienced by it any longer.”
I rose and walked over to Dal. He watched me, and I raised my fingers and ran them through the silken strands of his shining black hair. I loved the feel of his hair.
Dal let off a sigh. “I shall tie it, Sera.”
I smiled. “I bet there's some leather ties in my room. And a shirt and pants, too. Oh, maybe a dress.”
“Kraw do not wear dresses.”
“A dress for me,” I called over my shoulder as I disappeared into my quarters.
After twenty minutes Dal's hair was tied back, and he was wearing new, loose legged pants and a simple, loose shirt that did nothing to hide his muscle. I had found a dress to replace the torn one I had been wearing, complete with way too many layers in the skirt and matching slippers. It was ridiculous and I enjoyed it.
I only had eyes for Dal, though. “You look very handsome,” I told him from the doorway.
He scowled at his reflection in the mirror. “I look human.”
“You could never look human. You're not even wearing shoes. Not that they make any in your size.”
Dal gave a short laugh and turned away from the mirror to look at me. “You do not need butterfly wings, Sera.”
I looked down at my pale blue dress, adorned with pearls, before raising my lashes to Dal. “You don't think it's pretty?”
Dal strode to me, tilting my face up to his. “Pretty is a silly word,” he said as he bent to brush his lips over mine.
I melted into him, my body lighting up at Dal's kiss. But all too soon he broke away, brushing a thumb over my cheek as I tried to probe into those stunning hazel eyes. Dal was nearly two hundred years old, that thought alone staggered me. I was in the arms of a very old being, and yet by his standards he was young. What other secrets did his people possess? What kind of magic did Kraw wield to carry them all the way to my world?
Dal murmured between us. “You look at me as if you are hoping to unravel mysteries in my gaze.”
I smiled up at him. “I was wondering what kind of magic your people have. Is it like mine?”
“No, not like yours.”
My heart beat as I realized that he might actually tell me. I ran a hand over the place on his shirt where the tattoo spell resided below. “Curses?”
Dal smiled at me. “I will show you. Come.” And with that, he headed toward the door.
I followed without question. We stepped out into the grand hall to see Mindrik's door, across from ours, closed and no sounds issuing from within. Dal didn’t stop to assess; he turned left and strode down the hall.
“Dal, where are we going?”
“You shall see.”
I trotted to keep up, my dress flowing around my legs with soft swishes of fabric in the echoing halls. On and on the halls went, fine tapestries and dazzling paintings being the only things to let me know that we weren't going in circles. The few people we did pass nodded to me and scowled at Dal, who ignored them and kept up his stride. Finally, he led me out of a grand double door, and we stepped out into the cool night.
The smell of saltwater tickled my nose along with the honeyed perfume of thousands of flowers. Fireflies winked in and out of existence around us.
“How did you know this was here?” I asked.
“Kraw navigate well.”
I suppressed an eye roll and a smile as Dal led me through the lush greenery, stopping at a cushioned bench in a grove of red blooms that permeated the air with their spiced scent. The fireflies winked all around us, reflected in Dal's eyes. I had wanted nothing more than to be alone with him in this place, but now the excitement of what he was going to show me overrode any sort of romantic ideas I may have had. Dal sat me on the cushioned bench.
I let out a soft breath. “Why do we need to be out here for me to see what you can do?”
Dal surveyed the area. “You must not speak of this to anyone.”
I nodded.
He turned to me then. “I will not harm you.”
“I know,” I whispered.
Dal gave a single nod and turned away, and within moments, there was a strange light in his eyes, as if a reflection from a lamp shined in them. I looked around, but noticed nothing unusual. A slowing sensation came over me, as if each breath was too slow to feed my body, and my heart began to pound.
I gasped and turned to Dal, who waved one hand through the air, an intense look of concentration on his face, and air came to me as normal once again.
“What did you do?” I asked.
Dal gestured forward with one hand, and I looked to see the fireflies slowed to a near crawl in midair. Each beat of their wings would take minutes, each flower was still as stone. My breath caught, and I stood to approach one of the fireflies.
“How is this possible?” I breathed. Still, the bug’s movements were slowed to near stillness. I turned to Dal, who approached me, the light still shining in his eyes.
“What did you do, Dal?”
Dal reached out a hand and carefully lifted the firefly in front of me on one finger. “Time as you know it is simply another tool to some of my people.”
I furrowed my brow. “What does that mean?”
Dal glanced at
me, putting the firefly in front of my nose. “What is time, Sera?”
“Day and night. Hours and weeks and days.”
“How do you tell them apart?”
“The sun moves through the sky, plunging our world to darkness and then light again.”
Dal gave a nod. “Light and dark.”
I looked at the firefly that made its own light, then back to Dal. “I don't understand, Dal,” I whispered. “What does light have to do with you slowing time?”
Dal smiled, putting the slowed firefly in my hands with a gentle touch. “I do not slow time any more than you do. Your perception of time is based off of light, and some of my species wield light as easily as a sword. It is how we travel from world to world, and it is how I can make this moment last as long as I like.”
I pulled my hand out from under the firefly, and it hovered as its wings continued their slow beat.
“Some. Not all Kraw?”
“No, not all.”
“The warriors all have it?”
“No. Only a select few.”
“Patroma?”
“Yes.”
“Can your people see your Gifted the way you see mine?”
Dal smiled at my description. “No. And to answer your next questions, Kraw have been made aware of my ability, I cannot use it against them because I will suffer a blood brand, and it is just another ability that some Kraw are born with. Others have similar gifts.”
I furrowed my brow at Dal, having more questions now than before, then walked over to the bench, sitting down to brush my fingers over a crimson bloom. It stayed in place as my fingers left its silken petals, but rose ever so slowly, rising back to its original position. It was as if I was apart from the world.
I glanced over my shoulder at Dal. “You said this is how your species travels between worlds.”
Dal gave a small nod. “My species is old, Sera. Yours has harnessed water and fire, as mine harnessed other gifts eons ago. Let us leave it at that.”
I let out a soft breath, wondering if I was too inferior to understand or he just didn't want to explain. The flower near me was still rising to its original position before I had brushed it.
“This is beautiful, Dal. Truly.” I turned to him. “Thank you for showing me.”
