This is the third installment of this story. A new character emerges and another side to this story revealed! Thank you for reading! : )
The witch of the woods sang her seductive song. A siren of the swamps within Bas Darga. Ravens flew over head making a racket of screams. The river flowed calm in the oarsman's favor. He docked the boat at a beaten down dock. Fresh effigies made of draglann remains stuck out from the ground. The prince stepped out of the boat and onto the land, his hood falling off of his head. His skin was fair and his locks were a deep green like kelp. He looked onward down the path ahead of him with amber eyes. The prince strode forward into the mists, flipping the oarsman a single gold coin which fell into his bucket with a cling.
"Well, well, well... you're back to see me so soon, my prince."
She spoke in the ancient tongue and lingered as a voice in his head. Her magic was potent here. No matter how far he walked, he never seemed to move any further forward into the distance but ever further from the dock. The mists in front of him got thicker before they cleared, revealing her to him. Her appearance was ever changing. This time she was tan skinned with bright blue eyes and white hair that seemed to flow so long it merged with the space around her. It was a common look for her to show him. As she stared at him, her eyes seemed to change colors. She extended her arm, beckoning him closer.
"Come to me, Nidus."
Nidus approached her, wrapping his hand around her throat. She moaned as he gripped it tighter. He wanted to kill her. End this terrible bond they shared. She didn't even need to breathe. Choking her was useless. He loosened his grip. The monstrosity she was. It made him sick. She pulled the cloak off of his frame, running her hands along the muscles of his chest. "You can't resist me forever, my love," she sang, planting kisses along his jaw, making her way towards the corner of his lips. He stood firm. Her lust emanated off of her and soaked into his skin like an aphrodisiac.
He hated her but he kept coming back. It was a curse she put on him. A spell. Nidus shoved her backwards, climbing on top of her and placing his hand on her face. "I will kill you." She grabbed his hand, bringing his fingers to her mouth. "Kill me," she teased, running her tongue along his digits. Her legs wrapped around his hips, dragging him further down. He growled at her, driving his claws into her stomach. Her blood was cold. He grabbed a hold of whatever organ he could find and ripped it out of her. As it fell to the ground it deteriorated into ash.
Nidus tore into her over and over again but every time he damaged her, the wounds closed. It was at a point of frustration, he grabbed her body and slammed it down into the slab of rock below them. Her body simply disappeared. He panted, digging his fingers into the stone.
"What have I done to make you so angry? I like it."
She was still in the area but he couldn't tell where. Her voice came from all directions. He grit his teeth, saliva dripping from his jaw. Her hands pressed against his back, pushing him down against the slab. He fought against the pressure but was only able to turn over onto his back. She was there on top of him, exploring every ridge of his chest with her fingers. He grasped her thighs, pressing his claws into her flesh. The witch leaned down to kiss his neck, rolling her hips into his. He felt an ache in his groin and he growled. Nidus felt helpless and like every time, he was overcome by her lust.
He was rough with her, leaving bite marks in her flesh and breaking her bones. Nidus wanted control and she liked it which aggravated him even more. A few hours passed until he exhausted all the energy he had left. Sweat beaded off his skin. His chest rose with each breath he took. She had left, satisfied from the full belly of seed he gave her. It was like she fed off of it. The creature couldn't bare her own child if she wanted to. His vision darkened as he drifted off into sleep.
When he awoke, the witch was back but her demeanor was different as he expected. She was sitting above his head, relaxed and smoking from a long wooden pipe. "You're awake," she cooed, running her fingers through his braids. "I'm leaving," he groaned, sitting up from his position. "So soon?" She sounded disappointed but she had no more use for him. "Of course. I can't spend another moment here," he hissed. Her arms wrapped around his neck and her chest pushed into his back. "You should stay and lay with me all the time." Nidus snarled, forcing himself away from her.
"I really do love you, Nidus."
He shook his head. "I really do hate you, witch." She gasped, holding her hand to her chest. "How cruel. But you don't say that while you're ravaging me."
"Okay. I'm leaving. Bye." He waved to her and hurried away, buckling his pants closed. She kept talking but he didn't care to listen.
Nidus took the ferry back to the better side of Bas Darga. He flipped the man another coin and went on his way down the road. It was time to get back home. Nidus hoped his brother was there. He didn't want to see another woman for at least a decade after that. The rest of the way to the capital wasn't long but it took him an hour to get to the castle.
When he entered, it seemed like nothing much had changed since he left. There was a lingering smell of death in the hall. Someone must have been executed. Figures. He made his way up to the bathing room, swiftly removing his clothes and stepping into the water. It was already scented. Someone had been in here not too long ago. He shrugged his shoulders and sunk into the depths. His whole body ached. The witch completely drained him of everything he had.
After he finished, he made his way into the garden. His mother was tending to the plants like always. "I'm home," he said, walking over towards her. Galadriel turned with a warm smile on her face. "My son. How was your trip?" She opened her arms, bringing him into her embrace. He returned it but didn't hold it long. "It was good," he said. His mother looked pleased, returning back to her task. "Raphael brought a woman home today and finally it wasn't just a fling. I could tell it was something more."
"Did he? I was about to ask where he was." Nidus couldn't imagine his brother being serious with anyone let alone himself. "I believe he just left. I'll give him a few days to play run away with her until I retrieve him. He can't run from his duties forever." The plants around her seemed to come to life, coiling around her and blooming beautiful flowers on their vines. She was so serious about him being the heir. He wished she would just leave him be and let him have the crown. His brother hardly deserved it with all the trouble he had given them. But he dare not tell her that.
"Where's father?" He asked, lifting one of the nearby flowers in his hand, smelling it's aroma. "He's with one of his many consorts. Perhaps a few." She chuckled, "I'm just glad it isn't me." Nidor couldn't blame her. His father was her brother by blood. It wasn't atypical being that they were one of the first to come from the great dragon himself but it was odd to think about for the current age. "You smell like her," she mumbled, clipping a few leaves with her claws. "Hm?" He looked at her with a puzzled look. "His woman. You took a bath, right? Figures." She laughed again. Nidor raised his eyebrows and wandered away from her. He would rather leave her be.
He made his way up to his room, climbing on top of his bed. His mind was restless. Nidus curled up in the fur blankets that lied on top of his bed. It was warm, comfortable. He wondered what kind of woman she was and if he would ever meet her. Did his brother truly find someone who shared a bond with him? He couldn't quite wrap his head around the idea of him settling down. A bit of jealousy boiled inside of him as he thought about it. Would his brother push him aside for a woman? He hoped not.
This is the second installment and as usual-- if there are any awkward errors or if you just like the story, let me know! A like and a reblog is always appriciated as well. Thank you for reading!
Raphael paced back and forth in the hallway. He wanted to hit something, anything. How frustrating it was to be in that situation and with a stranger to be roped even further into it. He knew his mother would torture him with talk of marriage and children. Raphael had no interest in any of it and she knew it. The cunt just wanted to twist her fangs deeper into him. And his father was another story. How badly he wanted to spill his blood all over the floor. He fantasized about how he would do it, how it would look after. But the damn bastard wasn't alone for long if ever. Raphael gritted his teeth, slamming his fist into the wall. The heat from his spirit melted the stone around his fist.
"M-my lord, the queen wishes for you to join her and our guest." The maid's voice quivered. It was the ugly one. Her body broken from years of punishment. He turned to her, placing his hand on her face and forcing her down to her knees. He sucked his teeth, moving his two digits to her left eye. "You could do without an eye, hm?" He needed her to bleed. Her scent was soaked with fear but her face was ever stoic. He hated it. Raphael dug his fingers into her eye socket. She whimpered but showed no signs of physical pain. Blood poured from her eye socket as he slowly pulled the flesh out of it. There was guilt that came after the sudden soothing of his anger.
"You may go," he grunted, pushing her back. The woman hardly moved, raising up on wobbly legs and walking away from him. A trail of blood followed her. He looked at the eyeball in his hand, letting it roll onto the floor. "Disgusting." Raphael wiped his hand on his pants. "I just got changed too," he mumbled, heading off towards the gardens. If he knew his mother, they would be dining there this morning. She liked to show off to her guests.
His eyes caught a glimpse of the table, his mother was already there but their guest was not. The girl was most likely horrified. He didn't blame her for it. But he couldn't quite tell. She was too far from him. He couldn't feel her as much as his body craved it. It was an odd sensation but he knew what it was. Their kind had a rare tendency to be able to imprint on others. It was often referred to as a connection of spirit. You can feel the emotion of the other and nothing can break the bond except for death. It could happen with a stranger, a child, a parent. Anyone. She was beautiful but he wouldn't bring her into this life. The feeling must go away after being separated for a long time, he figured. He just needed to send her home.
"Ah, my beloved son. Come, sit." His mother caught sight of him. He sat down at the far end of the table well away from her, looking upon her with disgust. "Such a sour face. Where did my handsome, happy boy go? You'll get wrinkles looking like that," she laughed. Raphael neutralized his face after feeling a bit insecure about the whole wrinkle comment. "That's better," she hummed.
It wasn't long until he felt her presence again. The same nagging nervousness as before that he hated. He wanted her to stop. It was like a bunch of boulders were crushing his chest, he could hardly breathe. Footsteps grew more noticeable as she approached. He turned his head to look and he smiled at the sight of her. Her scent was more alluring but part of him missed the smell of ash that had clung to her before. It suited her. He had a sudden urge to touch her but he kept his hands folded in front of him. She sat a seat away from him and seemed to calm down.
"I told you that you'd be okay," he sneered. She glared at him but it seemed playful. "You look lovely. Ah, I never quite got your name. You may call me Galadriel. I do not wish for you to be burdened by formalities." His mother was trying to get too friendly to her. This poor girl didn't know what she was in for. He was cautious but it didn't seem to connect with Opalia the way it should. "My name is Opalia, my lady." Raphael chuckled. She kept the formalities even when told not to as peasants do. Galadriel was sly like a fox yet held a venom in her more toxic than the deadliest of vipers. His brother got that from her.
A maid arrived to the table with a large platter and more followed in suit. They poured hot tea into each of their cups and revealed a tray of fruits in front of his mother and himself. He watched Opalia look at the food. She must be hungry, he certainly was. "You can help yourself. Don't worry about eating properly, okay? No one cares. My father eats like a pig." The queen slammed her hand down on the table. "He does not, Raphael. But yes, Opalia, feel free to indulge to your hearts content." He smirked, she scolded him. It was always a joke. She coddled him for some reason. Maybe she wanted her husband dead. He couldn't read her.
Raphael picked at different fruits. He wasn't big on them but Opalia seemed to be enjoying herself. He knew she was happy, at least. Raphael took a napkin cloth from the table and opened it up, stuffing the corner into the top of her dress. "Just so you don't get it dirty." She went completely red which made him laugh. "I'm not a child, I know that," she mumbled. He felt bad for her. She didn't have to be here. Her family surely was grieving for her and he was certainly wanting to disconnect their bond. A simple girl like her wouldn't survive being queen. He wouldn't even entertain the thought.
As they ate, he noticed his mother watching them. She was full of herself. He could tell by the smug look on her face. She wanted him to wed so badly she would do anything to make it happen. But he would not do it. Not with her. The maids stepped back with more plates, revealing the main course. Eggs in different styles, potatoes and vegetables, fresh breads. It was simple but he was ready to eat anything. She must have arranged it for Opalia in case she was a picky eater. It was good his brother was away adventuring. He would be having a ball with their guest.
"Is this alright for you to eat, Opalia?" His mother chimed in again. He wished she would go away. Every time she spoke the poor girl nearly had a heart attack. "Yes. It's alright. Thank you." Raphael watched what she chose to take. Even with food the girl was gentle in picking it up. She was his complete opposite. He couldn't believe that she worked even near a forge of all places. "You're cute when you eat," he hummed, resting his chin on his fist, watching her. Opalia froze in the middle of eating her food, her face flushed. It was fun to tease her but not fun feeling the sudden jump of his heart when she processed it. His mother must have been having a field day, though. All worth the torture.
When Galadriel was done eating, she left the table with a simple excuse and then it was just the two of them. Raphael picked at the rest of his plate. He ate more than he should have. His stomach felt tight from how full it was but Opalia seemed to still be eating. How could she eat so much? When she caught him staring, she seemed to hesitate. "Do you want to go home?" He decided to ask her without the presence of his mother. Opalia swallowed the food in her mouth and leaned back into her chair. Her eyes wandered around the gazebo as she sat in silence. "Not yet? I don't know." She sunk into the chair, pouting like a child. He sighed and leaned in forward.
"May I be honest?" He asked. She nodded her head, pulling at the napkin in her shirt anxiously. "You will end up being my wife if you stay here. That is what she is planning because she knows about our bond. You should go home because your family is missing you." She looked puzzled and a bit worried. "What? Bond? What bond?" And almost a bit disgusted. This was awkward. It was going to be like explaining sex to a child. "You know... when two people... connect. I feel what you are feeling and you feel what I am feeling. Like how I was in agony before when they splashed water on me. You saved me because it hurt you as well, right? That is what it is." He let in a deep breath. It was a lot to say and she still didn't seem to understand. He took a sip of his tea and sat back in his chair.
"So... like how you're so hot?"
Raphael nearly spit the tea out of his mouth. He swallowed it and coughed a bit. His cheeks filled with heat. "What?" She shook her head. "Not that kind of hot. There is this aura I feel when I'm around you. It's hot but it's not uncomfortable. Actually, it's comforting. It makes me feel safe. But when they poured water on you. It made me freezing and afraid." Raphael felt a bit confused but was she referring to his spirit? He does have an affinity to fire and a bit too much so. Water is horrible unless it's scalding hot. "Yeah. That is the jist of it. Between us-- I was afraid. That can kill me." His voice grew distant as he remembered the pain he endured last night. It almost made him cringe. She looked sad and moved closer to him. He flinched as she reach out to grab his arm. "Then you never took a bath before?" Raphael stared at her with a blank look.
"I can take a bath. It just needs to be really, really hot." She looked amazed at the concept of it. Most likely because he can survive temperatures like that. "Do I smell dirty to you?" He sneered. She leaned in to smell him which was something he didn't quite expect. "Mm. Nope," she replied. Raphael felt the same urge to touch again but he wouldn't dare. He didn't trust himself nor did he want to entertain this bond. It wouldn't last. But she just looked at him. Her eyes were truly beautiful. He had never seen anything like it. "You're not as terrible as they say you are," she said.
"Don't believe that or you'll get hurt."
She frowned, backing away from him and into her seat. "Don't say that." He didn't respond to her. Raphael knew he would hurt her even if she didn't think he would. It was in his nature. A curse. "Excuse me." He rose from his seat and turned from her. She felt nervous again. Her emotions were so intense and he hated it but he kept walking.
Raphael made it back to his room and fell back into the pile of lush pillows on his bed. They smelled of the many women he brought into his chambers night after night. But it only left him aching for her. This was going to drive him crazy. The stupid girl didn't want to go home but he would make her no matter what it took. He tossed and turned in his bed, thoughts running through his mind. She was nearby and she was upset. Raphael groaned into one of the pillows, using all of his energy to block her out. Eventually it faded and he was able to relax. "Just go home."
Time passed and it was already lunch time. He wasn't very hungry but he needed to get up out of bed. A few knocks pelted his door. "My lord, your mother wishes for you to dine with them in the gardens." Her voice was partially blocked by the door but he could tell it was her. The broken one. He hated her and he didn't quite know why. Raphael growled and sat up, his spine letting out a few crackling sounds as he rolled his neck. He moved over to the mirror in his room, pulling his hair back in a loop with a hemp string. It felt a lot better.
Raphael made his way to the garden from his room. The castle was always empty. It was irritating that they didn't let him leave often. Always dragging him back in chains. The flora was in bloom at this time of year as the weather was warm. It made his nose itch. He sneezed, groaning at the tight pain it left behind. They weren't far inside at all. He could hear his mother talking but couldn't be bothered to listen. As he turned around a hedge, he saw them. Opalia didn't look at him this time. Why?
He made his way over to them and sat down next to her. Forbid he sat next to his mother, she'd most likely eat him instead. "I'm not hungry," he hissed. Galadriel shrugged her shoulders, "Then don't eat." He couldn't argue with that. But as he drew his attention over to Opalia, she didn't seem to be eating either. More or less picking at whatever food was placed on her dish. The queen had squinted her eyes and rose up from the ground. "This is rather dull, I will be browsing the grounds." With a clap of her hands, the maids followed. Opalia seemed to sink lower into herself, pushing the plate off to the side.
"What did she do to you?" He asked, laying back into the short grass. "Nothing," she replied in a low voice. "Do you want to go home now?"
"I... don't know."
"How can you not know?" He snapped at her, ripping some grass out of the ground. She slammed her hands onto the ground, making a light thump. "Can you stop asking me?" His eyes went wide. She shouted at him. That was a first. "No." He rolled onto his side to face her. She pouted, her brows furrowed. "Why?"
"Because I don't want you here." It was cruel but in a way, true. She recoiled back into herself, her face relaxing into a more hurtful one. At this point, he realized he should have explained further. But perhaps this would be enough to push her away. "You know why you want to stay, why not just say it?" He was annoyed with her. Was it her family life? The sudden luxuries of the castle? His mother's seductive words? Raphael had not a clue but she was hiding something.
She took a deep breath and crossed her hands together. "I don't have to hide here. I can go outside when the sun is still bright and meet new people." Opalia bit her lip, her hand raising up to touch her forehead, tracing her fingers around her mark. "But if I am not wanted, I will leave. I know this thing we share isn't even realistic to follow. I'm no one and you're a prince. I know that. I'm not stupid."
"That's not the reason I don't want you here." He lied, partially. This bond forced him to be infatuated with her. If he could, he'd go back to her home with her. Palace life wasn't for him and he didn't want to be king. But they wouldn't leave it to his brother. "It will kill you to be here. Once my mother tires of you, she will kill you. If my father decides you need to die, he will kill you. Catch me at a bad moment, I will kill you. There is death all around you and you're stupid each second you stay here. I'm surprised you trust us enough to eat our food." She had brought something to her lips which she gently placed back down onto the plate. "I'm not serious about that. We have never poisoned food. Just eat if you want."
He sighed and rolled onto his back. "You could be my queen if you wanted to be but it isn't a life for you." It hurt to say that, physically. He nearly cringed at the thought of having a queen. "How do you know that?" She spat, her mouth full of food. The sound almost made him laugh. She was certainly a character. "I live it. Why do you think I was all the way out into the forest where you happened to reside, hm? I was running away from it all. No one will let me." His voice faded off as he stared into the sky. The clouds shielded the sun for moments at a time and a cool breeze flowed through the air.
"I know of places you could go-"
"No. There is no where I can hide. You can't be my knight in shining armor all the time, Opalia."
"I only rescued you once and look where it got me."
"Exactly."
They laughed for a moment. It felt good to relax like this. He almost didn't want to let her leave but if anything happened to her, he would surely lose it. She looked down at the ground. "Raphael," she said. "Yeah," he replied. "They wouldn't have hurt my family, right?" He felt a tight ball well up in his chest. Was she going to cry? "I... don't know. I wish I could tell you. That's why you should get home. I'll go with you if you want but I can not stay." She nodded her head. "I would like that."
"Then it's settled. We can leave after you eat. I'll give you a ride." Opalia looked concerned but she pushed her plate off to the side. "We can go." Raphael shrugged his shoulders and sat up. A large cloud of black smoke enveloped him which grew larger and larger as seconds passed. Strips of bright red streaks appeared from it's depths and a low growl rumbled the area around it. Opalia scooted herself back a bit as the cloud inched towards her. It cleared as fast as it came and she just stared in awe.
He had transformed himself into his draconian form. A large black dragon with scales that shimmered crimson in the light. They cracked in certain spots revealing hot, pulsating magma that flowed through his insides like blood. She reached her hand out to touch him but hesitated as if she knew it'd burn her. "Not there." His voice was similar but now it held more bass to it. He took his body as low to the ground as he could, the heat from his scales burning away the foliage below. "If the bond is true, you will not burn." He wasn't quite sure of that but it would be counter productive if it weren't true.
Raphael felt her press against his scales as she climbed up on his back. She squealed and spread her arms around the back of his neck. "This is so cool," she hummed. If he could, he would smile. He felt her excitement make his heart race. His wings extended outwards, spitting magma out of their loose vessels. "Hold onto my scales." He felt a bit of pain as she gripped onto them but it was more or less a pinch. With a swift flap, they were into the sky. She gripped his scales tighter.
"Afraid?"
"A little but it's so beautiful up here."
He chuckled, going a bit faster. At the speed he covered ground, they would be there faster than they would on horseback. The closer they got, the more regret he had for making her want to leave. Even if it was for a few hours, he got comfortable with her presence. Perhaps he would stay a while.
It wasn't long before they had to go down to the ground. His wings tore down a few small trees as they landed on the road. "We have to walk from here." Before she could get off, he undid his transformation which made her fall onto the ground. "What'd you do that for?" She spit, stumbling up to brush herself off. "I just wanted to see you fall," he chuckled, squatting down to the ground. "Get on, you don't need to walk." She gripped his shoulders and he grabbed her legs from under her, resting his arms under her knees as he lifted off. Her arms wrapped around his neck. He felt the heat of her breath against his skin as she rested it on his shoulder.
Her body heat was cooler than his own. He knew why she thought he was so much warmer now. It wasn't just his magic. "How do you know where you're going?" She asked. "I was here before, remember?" He had a good memory and this road didn't seem to branch anywhere else. "Won't they come for you?"
"You ask a lot of questions," he said, lifting her up a bit. She was so small and light that she slipped a lot easier. "I'm just concerned." It was kind of her to be. But as long as he wasn't gone for days, they wouldn't care. "It'll be fine." She seemed to grip him tighter as they walked down the road. They weren't far. He could smell the familiar scent of ash that once blanketed her. It mingled with the floral smell she had on and it was right. He took a deep breath through his nose to take it in.
When they arrived, it was quiet. The flames of the forge were now mere embers. He let Opalia down but she didn't budge from behind him. Her hands gripped tightly onto his shirt. Something wasn't right. They were both uneasy. "We're here. You should get inside," he said. She moved forward, her hand moving down to his. He took her hand in his. Raphael didn't want to let her go. It wouldn't hurt to stay, would it?
She led him to the doorway. No words were spoken. Opalia lifted her hand to push away the leather straps and froze. Raphael couldn't see much in the dim space but it seemed empty. She let go of his hand to rush inside. His skin felt cold in her absence. He followed in after her, trying to be calm but both their hearts raced. "No one is home?" He looked around some more but there was no one there. She opened up all of the doors in the small home, frantically looking around for any sign of her family. Opalia began to sob and eventually just fell to the ground in tears.
He didn't quite know what to do or what to say. Did they abandon her or was she just over reacting? "They must have went out. I will wait with you until they return. Just... stop crying. It'll be okay." He didn't know that but perhaps it would console her to hear it. "He never goes out! You don't know that!" She threw a rag at him which smacked into his chest and fell to the floor. He wanted to say more but it would only make her angrier. Instead, Raphael just backed out the home, leaning beside the doorway. He placed his hand over his jaw, trying to think.
If they were truly dead or worse, his first thought was it was his mother. She would go to any length for him. Even if it meant hurting innocents. The only difference is that he wouldn't want this. There was a pain she felt now that he had never felt in his life. Grief. It was unbearable but he dared not tell her to stop.
The foliage across the road began to shift and crack before revealing an old woman. Her face was pale in comparison to her earthy skin with dark bags under her eyes. She looked like she hadn't slept in days. When the woman noticed him, she looked at him in horror, dropping the baskets in her hands. The contents spilled out into the road. Herbs, fruits, raw hides. "Who are you? Are you a soldier? A thief?" The sound of her voice had Opalia running out of the home, crashing into an embrace with her. "You're alright! Thank the gods!" They both cried and kissed each other. At least her family was alright.
A man came out behind her but instead of joining in with them. He stared at Raphael, his eyes piercing into him like knives. The axe in his hand creaked as he gripped it tighter. "Is this all of them, Opalia?" Asked Raphael, keeping his eye contact with the old man. She nodded her head before breaking away from her grandmother. Opalia wiped the tears from her face and rested her hand on the old man. "It's okay." Her words seemed to calm him down, his demeanor changing instantly.
"Well, come in. Both of you," said the man, setting his things down by the workshop area and heading into the home. His shoulder bumped into Raphael's own purposefully. The prince entered the house behind him.
"I am Malal and the woman out there is my wife, Rubia." He let out a rough cough and spit out saliva into a jar nearby. Raphael watched as he sat in a rickety chair that was a bit too small for his plump frame. He was definitely an elder much like his father. Raphael moved forward to lean against one of the pillars of the house. "Raphael," he said, crossing his arms across his chest. "The crown prince?" The man looked him up and down. There was no mistaking it. He looked way less disheveled than before and the royal crest was crisply dyed on his shirt. "She is a lucky girl. Will you take her from us?" His tone was somber. "Not if she doesn't want to go," he replied. It wasn't what he would have said when he first met her. But things change.
Malal didn't seem happy with that answer. But it was natural for him to not want her to go. If he knew anything of the capital, it wasn't good. "I'll keep her safe." Raphael knew he would. There wasn't a reason not to. "Even if she stays here." The man chuckled, coughing into his sleeve. "If she goes with you, she will die much too young. I know it in my bones, boy. As your bond with her grows, you will know. So, please, leave her here. I don't care if you make her hate you. Do it for her." The old man pleaded with him but something told Raphael he was telling the truth.
"She won't go back. I won't have to force her." Raphael knew this to be true. As much as she wanted her freedom, her family held a much higher place in her heart. The man scoffed, leaning back into the chair. "You both want your freedom but only one of you can truly have it."
The leather flaps flew open as the two women entered. They were happy. Raphael smiled as it warmed his chest. "You're home," he said, gazing down at Opalia. She was so small but in her best moods she seemed so much larger. Her smile was beautiful and her aura felt warm like the rays of sun peaking through the forest top on a summer day. He lifted some of her hair in his hand. Her mane was thick yet soft to the touch. He stroked it between his fingers before letting it fall out of his hand. She looked up at him, offering him a fruit in her hand which he instinctively took.
"You should stay for dinner," she hummed, moving over towards the kitchen and placed a pot on the iron hook hovering over the flames. "Alright," he complied with her. He just watched her as she moved around the house. Life went on as if he wasn't even there and that was okay. The smell of lemon and sage settled in the air, mixing with the smell of the river fish they had caught. Her hands. They wrapped around his own, pulling him down to the ground. He sat down at the base of the pillar. She stood just barely taller than him. Her hands slipped from his and she handed him a hot bowl of fish and rice. It wasn't unlike anything he had ever eaten before but he appreciated it a bit more after seeing it prepared.
He brought the utensil to his mouth, savoring the flavor for a moment. It was good. The sour of the lemon and the earthy flavor of the sage complimented the fish. The rice that was paired with it helped each bite feel more filling than the last. Opalia had been watching him eat with a content look on her face. He didn't get embarrassed like she did when he watched her. It wasn't a big deal.
Malal ate a few servings before he was satisfied. Raphael just had one despite wanting more. He didn't want to over do it. Opalia only ate as much as he did and Rubia barely finished a bowl. The old woman got up from the floor and shook out her dress. "I am going to go lie down, chama. It was nice to meet you, sir. Thank you for bringing her back to us." She rested her hand on his head, ruffling his hair. Malal followed after her with an abrupt grunt.
Opalia rested her hands on his. The coolness of her skin made his tingle. "Don't worry about him. He's just concerned about me." Raphael shook his head. "I know." She broke away from him, taking the bowl out of his lap and gathering the others, placing them in a basin of clean water. "It's getting dark," she said, looking out the window. The sun was starting to set. "It is. I need to leave soon." He sighed and she cupped his face in her hands. "You'll be okay?" She must have felt his uneasiness. It wouldn't be far fetched if she knew he didn't want to leave. Perhaps she didn't want him to either. "I'll be fine." He gazed into her glistening eyes. They captured glints of his own fiery color. She leaned down, resting her forehead against his own. They took a deep breath in unison with each other.
"Maybe... you can visit." Her lips were barely touching against his own. "That would be torture." He moved to kiss her. "Opalia, it is time for your guest to leave." Malal's booming voice shouted out from his room. Opalia pressed her lips against his and then moved away. Raphael held onto her arm, not wanting to let her go but he did. He got up and followed her out the door. The air seemed so cold, stagnant. She turned around to face him but didn't look at him. Opalia placed her hand on his chest before going inside. A silent goodbye that tore at his heart.
This is the first chapter to this novel I will be writing. If you like it or spot any errors, let me know! Thank you for reading it if you do. n __n /
The water rippled as gentle, ashen hands breached it's surface. They released a black soot into it that bloomed like a cloud in it's depths. A distorted reflection shined back when the sunlight licked at the peaks of the ebbing waves. A pair of opalescent eyes gazed back, framed by blushing olive skin that was blotched with dirt and ash. She brought her hands to her face, rubbing the water into her skin. "That's better," she hummed. A tired smile formed on her lips as she wiped her hands on the washcloth nearby.
"You're finished with your work today?" asked a man, walking through the leather flaps that made up the door to the dim workshop. His voice was deep, aged, and held a weight to it. He groaned as he sat in a wooden chair which seemed to groan back. She turned her body around to look at him. "Yeah. You're alright?" A thunderous laugh and a vicious cough blurted out from his mouth. "I'm fine! Don't worry about me," he choked, "You're like you're mother with that, you know!" He continued to stifle his cough as best he could as he took a few sips of water.
She frowned and scooted a bit closer to him, resting her head on his thigh. He was warm and smelled of fire. She knew she would have to wash her face again but it didn't matter. "I'm not goin' anywhere." He sounded offended. A huff blew out his nose. "I know." She didn't know that. He was old, much too old. His fingers pulled off the sweat damp cloth that covered her forehead and he rubbed the birthmark that it was hiding. It was much lighter than her skin and never seemed to darken.
The mark of Flodea, they called it. A blessing from a Goddess who had never been seen before. In the tomes, they say she died at the hands of the great dragon but her spirit lives on through the unicorns. But it was a curse to her. Her following demanded the baby girls born under her blessing to be taken away and placed into covens. She didn't believe in it nor did her family. The covens couldn't check all the babies born and most families willingly sent their children off. Each mark was different. Her own resembled a twinkling star.
"They will find out one day," the old man wheezed. She knew that but she made it this far without accidental revealing her mark. "I'll fight anyone who tries to take me away," she said with a smug grin on her face. "Opalia." He tensed up, giving her a light smack on the back of her head. "I know." The reality of the situation was she couldn't stop herself from being taken. It was tradition and they wouldn't take any chance to anger their gods. Most of them were living after all. Thankfully, the small amount of people permitted to see her never dared raise an alarm.
Her people were tall and she was short. She was a sick child, they claimed, stunted her growth. It was true but it wasn't the reason. Her eyes were a rare color. An opalescent silver that captured a rainbow of colors like a kaleidoscope. They all had actual horns as well. A variety of earthy colors but mostly muted. Their eyes typically shades of crimson to gold and their pupils stilted like the great dragon they descended from. Her pupils were horizontal and square like a horse. They had patches scales on their skin as well of their own unique color. She had none but her tanned skin glistened when in the sun.
Her grandfather was a muscular man in his youth but now he was fattening with old age. He had light brown horns that stuck out of his head similar to a ram. Dark brown scales spread across the bridge of his nose like freckles and sprinkled themselves along the top of his arms and hands. She always liked how they felt as they were much softer than his rough skin. His eyes were a golden brown color and his hair was pitch black, peppered with grey. She inherited the color of her locks from her mother who inherited it from him. It was the only thing unusual for those who had her gift as they usually had white hair. But a gift it was to be the same as her mother. It kept the priestesses away.
"Your grandmother will be home soon. I can feel her drawing near," he grumbled, drawing a deep breath and a rough cough followed, "Wash up and start dinner." Her grandfather gave a few pats on her back. She didn't want to get up but dinner wouldn't make itself. Opalia crawled her way over to the basin, dipping the washcloth into the cool water. She heard the leather straps leading outside slap against each other and assumed her grandfather went to walk his wife the rest of the way home. The water was much too cold now but she washed away the remaining soot on her body before running into her room to change.
A few moments later he returned with her grandmother in tow. Opalia was in the middle of chopping up vegetables, placing them into a pan with a bit of animal fat. A wave of relief settled in her body since she didn't have to keep cooking. She wasn't very good at it much to her grandmother's disapproval. "How was your day, grandmother?" She asked, getting up to walk over to her, embracing the old woman when she did. "Good, good," she huffed. The woman was tired as always but out of the three of them, she was the best at hunting and gathering so no one else could do the job. "Thank you for starting the food, chama." She chuckled, kissing Opalia on the cheek. Her lips were chapped and damp from spit, leaving a cool sensation on her skin.
"Only for you," Opalia winked at her. "And only for you do I come home, chama!" Her grandmother cackled, resting her bones on the floor by the basin, cleaning herself up. Opalia laughed along with her. Her grandfather sat down on the floor by the fire, chuckling. "Hey, hey! That's not nice." All three of them were laughing now and there was a good energy in the air. Their home was warm and their bellies soon to be filled. Her grandmother began to sing in a tongue she couldn't understand but somehow the words revealed themselves in her heart. It was a language of emotion and made the spirit in her body surge.
Opalia hummed along to the tune, making her way to the door and stepping outside. It was getting dark out and there were to be no more travelers to pass. They lived far from the capital in a small, remote village. Folks passed by on the road in front of their house. Caravans, travelers, and other sorts of people that occasionally bought their wares. Her family was known for their quality handicrafts and metalworking so they had enough money to keep their land. They had a forge on the side of their home along with a loom and a variety of other tools.
She wandered over by the garden, idly running her hands through the foliage. They had checked them for yield in the morning and harvested for the day. A variety of fruits and herbs grew in it. Mostly herbs due to it's size. The poppies and spirit flowers began to close their petals for the night to prepare for the morn. She walked out into the clearing in the yard, settling down among them. Opalia laid back into the grass, closing her eyes. Just for a moment she'd rest. For a little bit.
The sound of rumbling hooves woke her from her nap. Startled, she sat up, looking down the road in their direction. "Opalia, get inside!" Her grandfather shouted, waving over to her. She did her best to scramble up, slipping on the long silk-like grass a few times before she could catch her footing. In the side of her vision, a figure ran past and a sudden wave of heat collided into her. At first it was just that but an intimidating power made her freeze in her tracks. The shouts of her grandfather grew quieter and her ears focused onto labored breathing that wasn't her own. Then, the thumping heartbeat that raced alongside her own. All she could do was turn as did another. Her eyes met with those of someone else. They were blazing like molten metal and they left a searing mark on her soul as they burned into her.
She didn't know who he was nor did he know her from the startled look on his face. None of them knew what was happening until a splash broke the force connecting them together. He screamed in agony, falling to the ground. A plume of steam emitted off of his body.
"Go inside! Do not get involved!" A soldier shouted, pointing his sword at her and her family. She couldn't see the faces of the soldiers. They were just as heavily armored as their horses. Opalia looked back over at the man on the ground and somehow she could feel his pain even if it was just a fraction. A voice echoed in her mind.
It burns. It's so cold.
Her fingertips felt like they were dipped in ice water and it traveled up her arms slowly. A rough grip on her arm broke her from her trance as she was carried off towards her home. "Are you deaf, girl?" Her grandfather was furious, she could tell from his tone. But all she could do was stare at their victim and the pain in her body intensified. They clamped chains onto his body and wrapped them around tightly. It was inhumane, cruel.
I'm dying.
The chill she felt began to burn and paralyze her. Her knees gave out from under her. "What is wrong with you? Get up!" Her grandfather tugged her upwards but she couldn't move. "Stop," she mumbled. He paused, loosening his grip. The soldiers splashed another bucket of water onto the man and another burst of steam come off of his skin. He screamed and it was louder than before. It intensified in her ears. "Stop!" She shouted, spirit flowing out of her in waves of light. Opalia lifted her hand, pointing it towards him. A orb of magic erupted from his body, surrounding him in a barrier which pushed the soldiers back. They were as astounded as her grandparents who stood by her.
Beads of sweat dripped down her face as the sensations subsided. The man had collapsed, his breathing labored and blood dripping down the corner of his mouth. "What... happened," she huffed, her gaze drifting away for a moment to the soldiers. "S-she's just a child, forgive her," said her grandmother, stepping in front of Opalia. They had to improvise for her a lot but this was a mess they weren't sure they could get her out of. She knew this. "I'm sorry," said Opalia. But the soldiers ignored her words and said nothing. "No, please! She didn't mean it!"
The clang of armor approached them swiftly. "She is under arrest and will be brought to the capital for trial." Their voices were muffled through their helmets but they were clearly flustered. Opalia was pried from the grasp of her grandfather who needed to hold his wife back as she struggled to reclaim her granddaughter. "You can't take her from us!" She shouted but to no avail. Everyone knew that there was no trial. It was either death or dungeon and either resulted in never seeing the culprit again. No matter how small the crime.
Opalia wanted to struggle. But she felt more and more fatigued as they brought her closer to the man. The soldiers linked their chains together and shoved them into a cage made of magic she couldn't even comprehend. The screams from her grandmother and the pain on both of their faces broke her heart. They couldn't stop this. It wasn't any use as it would only get her killed. They could only hope that there was a trial or that she would be sent away to the coven to serve Flodea. As long as she lived, as long as she could come home.
The road was to be long. They were far from the capital. All she had was this stranger who she felt a strange connection to. Opalia let him rest his head on her lap. He was bound and extremely hurt. She lifted her hand over his body and tried to command her spirit to flow but it wasn't working. Their prison floated behind the horses, keeping close to them.
He was young and his hair was silver. It was long, reaching a bit below his shoulders and straight. His skin was tan but not quite as dark as her own. He had black scales along his jaw and a bit under his eyes. The warmth she felt before returned to him. He wasn't wearing much and what he was wearing was soaked. His horns were pitch black and emerged from the front of his head. They went straight out and had a slight curve. They were not akin to any animal she had ever seen. Who was he? She leaned down to smell his hair. It was perfumed. He was either a thief or someone of high status. His current state made her believe he was a criminal. A good one to be restrained like this.
The reality of the situation set in after a few minutes as the adrenaline subsided. A tightness in her chest and throat pained her along with a flutter in her stomach. She didn't want to die or be trapped in a dungeon for the rest of her life. What would even happen to her? The worst things came to mind and it made her sick. She felt like vomiting but there was no place to do so.
It seemed as if an hour or so had passed. The sun retreated behind the horizon and night was there. The road behind them was pitch black and the only thing illuminating the area was their cage and the torches from the soldiers. He began to stir in his sleep, waking from his slumber. She was jealous he had slept for so long. The grip of slumber was upon her but her nerves wouldn't let her sleep. His hand brushed over his chest and stomach as he peered up at her. His eyebrows lifted but his eyes were still heavy with sleep.
"You're quite beautiful to wake up to," he yawned. "Who are you?" She asked, her body tensing up as he rolled onto his stomach, nesting his head into her thighs. "None of your business." His voice was muffled and his breath was hot. "G-get off of me," she grunted, pushing at his shoulders. His body size was so massive that he wouldn't even budge. "I'm not some lady of the night, y'know." Opalia was flustered. Didn't he know what personal space was? Pervert.
"You smell like shit. So I'd be happy to," he grumbled, rolling off of her and landing with a thump to the side. She rolled her eyes but couldn't say much as it was most likely true. She didn't even get to bathe yet. The man hissed, the chains rattling as he tried to sit up. Out of pity, she placed her hands on his back, helping him lift himself up. He rested his back on the bars of the cage, staring at her. "Who are you?"
"I think you should answer that first," she spat, crossing her arms in front of her. He chuckled, nodding his head. "Fair point. My name is Raphael. That's all you need to know." It wasn't like she cared but at least she'd meet someone that wasn't her family before she was sent to her doom. "I'm Opalia and that's all I'm telling you, criminal." He burst out laughing, stopping in worry as he nearly fell over. "Criminal? Is that what you think I am? I'm a prince, you idiot. I'm going to be king and you've never heard of me? Classic."
One of the soldiers sneered. "My lord, you're not going to be king if you keep this up. I'm surprised your father hasn't killed you yet." What he said was both respectful and disrespectful all at once. Opalia was impressed. "Good one." Raphael shattered the chains around his upper body, growling at the soldier. "You're the one who is dead once I get out of here." She backed herself up in the cage. Opalia did not want to be in here with that wreck. He was more hot headed than a wild boar. Raphael looked at her and relaxed his body.
"When we get back, I'll make sure you'll be okay." He seemed guilty. His posture seemed to sink and he looked smaller despite being so large. "What is that supposed to mean?" She had every reason to worry. It wasn't like this happened every day. Would he make her a slave? Throw her out into the wilderness? Worse? "Stop doing... whatever you're doing. It feels weird." He shuffled in his spot uncomfortably, trying to make distance between them. "What am I doing?" She asked, curling her knees close to her chest. "I don't know." Opalia let out a sigh and stared out the cage away from him. He did the same. Eventually, she fell asleep.
When they finally reached the capital, the sky was bright. Lavender strips of color brushed across the sky, mingling with the orange hues of sunlight that appeared as the sun rose. Her eyes fluttered open as he shook her awake. "We're here." His voice sounded so distant. She moaned in response, not wanting to wake just yet. "Can you just open the cage? I'm not an animal." He commanded, tapping his fingers impatiently on the floor. "No," responded one of the soldiers. Raphael slammed his fist against the bars, jolting her awake. She could feel his anger in bits and pieces. It felt like the vibration from slamming a hammer against hot steel.
Opalia wiped the tears and crust away from her eyes. She looked around at the capital. It was empty for what she knew a city to be. Everyone must still be asleep, she thought. "Raphael," she mumbled. "Yeah?" He gave her his attention for a moment before looking back at the soldiers to make childish faces. "Am I going to die?" The man froze, looking back at her, his eyes wide with surprise. "Are you sick? If not, no. You're not going to die. Can you stop with that?" He sounded annoyed but she couldn't help it. For the first time, she was truly without her family. She felt herself getting choked up as she thought about the possible fates that may be upon her. "Don't let them take me away," she cried, covering her face with the cloth of her dress.
"What are you talking about? No one-- Oh." It clicked for him. "You can stay with me until I can get you home. You aren't afraid of being a maid... or something, right?" He was anxious, she felt it. But she couldn't stop sobbing. Raphael rested his hand on her shoulder. "You're going to be okay. Just... stop crying. Please." His voice was soft. He was trying to comfort her. She had to give him that much. "Take some deep breaths, okay?" Raphael took a deep breath in and she tried her best to as well but it was shaky.
He moved closer to her, wrapping his arm around her slowly. His body was even unnaturally hotter this close. Raphael didn't say anything but he kept breathing with her until she stopped. "I'm sorry," she chuckled, wiping the moisture from her face. Her eyes felt puffy and irritated from crying. He let her go, slinking away from her. "It's fine." He looked out towards the castle. "We're nearly here. I can't wait to get out of these clothes."
The horses stopped after a few minutes of silence between the two. She felt better and he made her feel safe. There was a genuine concern for her that she knew was sincere. A man with a robe came out from around the soldiers and to the cage, releasing the magic upon it. The two of them fell onto the gravel below. She gasped as the pebbles poked her palms. "Ow," she winced. Raphael broke the rest of his chains off, standing up onto his feet. He stumbled a bit but he was alright. She looked up at him in awe. He was a lot taller than any man she had ever seen. Twelve feet at least compared to her stature of about a bit above six and a half. Nearly twice her size.
He held his hand out to her, bending down a bit. She grabbed onto his hand and he pulled her up with a single motion. It took her a moment to catch her footing but she finally let go of his hand. "Thank you," she mumbled. "Come on, my lord. You are to answer to your father." The other soldiers dispersed, leaving what she could assume was their captain behind. Raphael groaned, following him as he began to walk towards the large doors of the castle. Opalia didn't get a good glimpse of it but as she looked up, it made her dizzy.
It was huge and made of a glossy, black stone that captured light similar to a pearl. The designs of the pillars and trim was intricate with ancient designs and magical runic symbols. It's towers were tall and everything about it was sharp. A large, black dragon curled around it that rivaled it's size. It's scales seemingly blending in with the stone. She could hear it breath as it slumbered. Opalia was in awe. A living god. The great dragon in the flesh in front of her. "Come on," said Raphael, breaking her out of her trance. "S-Sorry," she apologized.
"Yeah, my grandfather tends to have that affect on everyone. Don't be too impressed, he's a foul, rotten soul. No one worth meeting." His words disappointed her. Everything she heard of the great dragon was... well, great. But he would know the god more, wouldn't he? She shuffled quickly behind the prince, her eyes still locked onto the dragon. It's snout nearly touched the doorway and as they approached, she couldn't help but touch it. A deep rumble emanated from it's throat at her touch, shaking the ground. She quickly pulled her arm away, moving closer behind Raphael.
The hall was gigantic and much brighter than the outside. The black stone was mostly replaced with a white stone and gold accents. Large windows let in copious amounts of light, illuminating the room yet concentrating most of the light on the throne. Her eyes traveled to it and she made eye contact with the king. A man she had never seen before in her life. He was different than what she imagined. The complete opposite of what she was told. Raphael tensed up and his anger returned. The sensation made her nervous.
The king was an evil looking man. His hair was thin and long, growing past his shoulders. It was completely white. His face was wrinkling with age and his eyes the same color as his son yet they burned hotter. He was in full armor made of a black metal she wasn't familiar with. The scales lining his jaw were black with a red sheen and his skin a muted tan color, nearly grey. His horns were much larger but similar to Raphael's own.
"Tell me why I shouldn't kill you now."
Raphael spit in his direction, a sour look on his face. "You couldn't even if you tried." The king went to stand but the queen rested a delicate hand on his chest. She was as beautiful as they said. Her hair was the color of moss and stretched like vines down to the floor. Opalia looked at her, infatuated. The queen had eyes the color of pure gold and skin like milk. It didn't even look like age had taken a hold of her yet but she was definitely mature. She changed the mood instantly with her interjection. Her voice was melodic and soothing.
"Who is this beautiful young woman, my son?"
Opalia nearly choked on her own spit. Beautiful? Her? She could barely process the compliment let alone that it was from the queen. "Me? I'm not--" Opalia laughed nervously but Raphael interrupted her. "She's just a girl that got caught up in my mess. I'll make sure she's sent home." The queen rose from the arm of the throne, making her way over towards Opalia. Her hands cupped her face, lifting it up. The golden eyes seemed to examine her features. Opalia couldn't help but blush in embarrassment. Her own eyes treasured the beauty of the queen. She hummed, drawing closer to the girl. "She can accompany us tonight as a guest." Her thumb grazed over her forehead, making Opalia flinch backwards. The queen furrowed her brow. "A free little foal, aren't you? Such beautiful markings... you will do."
Raphael placed his hand around his mother's wrist. "Stop. Leave her alone. She just wants to go home to her family." Opalia felt torn. What he said was true but the queen was seductive and she didn't want to be disrespectful. "It's okay. I can stay if she wants me to." She said, trying to rub the goosebumps off her arms. It was an awfully awkward conversation. Raphael let out a low growl and stormed off up the stairway, leaving her alone with the wolves. Her heart dropped as she watched him storm away.
"Is that true? Did these horrible soldiers take you from your home?" The queen's pupils dilated and her eyes seemed to glow with magic. "When you were trying to save my poor son? How cruel." Her lips formed into a twisted smile. She turned away from Opalia, twirling her hand in the air. The captain began to choke and fell to the floor. Opalia took a few steps away from him, looking on in horror. Vines began to tear out of his body, leaving him to bleed out onto the floor. The warm blood made contact with her feet. Opalia wanted to gag at the mere touch of it. She hadn't seen anyone die before. Is this what they did here?
"Don't worry about him, dear. He wasn't very good at his job and you should be glad he is dead. That man is the one who ordered you to be caged like an animal. Such a beautiful creature such as yourself should be treated like royalty."
The once beautiful queen seemed like a viper to her now. She was afraid of her and had every right to be. This woman could kill her at any moment. A group of maids came out from behind Opalia, cleaning up the mess with no fuss and surprising speed. One of them stuck out to her. A woman with lavender hair and metallic prosthetic limbs powered by spirit. Her skin was tan and the grey horns that stuck out of her head were broken. She looked up at Opalia with her magenta eyes. "My lady, if you would excuse me." Opalia wasn't sure what she was excusing but she put two and two together, stepping away from the blood. It didn't help as she left tracks but the maid lifted her foot, wiping them free of the bodily fluid.
"Thank you," she said. The maid simply bowed and went on her way to carry the body out of the room. When she looked back at the throne, she was met with judging eyes from the king. He seemed to be analyzing her as well but it was different from the queen's way. It felt savage. Like he was dissecting her like a butcher with a corpse. He didn't say a word but he watched her as the queen grabbed her hand and began leading her up the steps. "Let's get you a warm bath and clean clothes."
The queen led her to a room with a large bath in the center. A gentle mist floated along the ground and the air smelled of floral oils and perfumes. "I will leave you to have privacy but please bathe as long as you like. I will send a servant to bring you clothes and escort you to breakfast." Opalia nodded her head and watched the queen slither out of the room. She took a deep breath and looked back at the bath. It felt weird to undress in a place that wasn't home but she did so. Her skin was still stuck with ash and soot from the forge.
As she stepped into the water, it all seemed to clear off of her. The bath was a nice temperature. Not too hot and not too cold. It was much deeper than she expected but it was most likely much more shallow for them. They were larger after all. Opalia explored the room with her eyes. Different bottles were lined across the bottom left corner of the bath which she swam over to. One by one she opened the bottles, smelling what was inside. Honeysuckle, rose, lavender, mint, and other scents were there for her to mix into the bath. It was a larger selection than she had at home and it was exciting.
For the first time since she was here, she put on a warm smile. All it took was a bath. She took a bit of the honeysuckle and a vial of mint, putting a few drops into the water. "All better." Opalia dipped her head under the water to wet her hair. When it was wet, it straightened out the waves in her hair, letting it drop to it's full length which reached her lower back. The door inched open and the purple haired maid from before entered with a blindfold on her face. Opalia raised her eyebrow and watched her set down a towel and folded garments before leaving.
She spent a few more moments in the bath before getting out, wrapping herself in the towel and wringing out her hair. A sharp knock on the door startled her. "My lady, the first meal of the day is starting and the queen wishes for you to come as soon as possible." Opalia rushed to dry down her body. "I'll be ready in a moment," she said. The dress she gave was plain and white. It held itself up on her shoulders with thin straps and flowed down her frame nicely. The fabric was soft and matte but had a nice weight to it. A bit of extra fabric gave the bottom of the dress some body but not too much. The queen definitely had taste in fashion.
World of Warcraft | Talk to Me of Love and Immortality
“All those years ago, did you ever have a lover?”
“Yes.”
The question was innocent yet part of her didn’t want to know. His confirmation made the pressure in her chest drop. Galadriel knew he had children but with whom? She looked up at him. He looked sad.
“It was a long time ago.”
She didn’t press him further but he seemed itching to continue the tale. He moved his arms around her. They surrounded her like a halo. She relaxed back into his chest. His heartbeat steady yet firm against her back. She felt compelled to touch his tree-like fingers protruding out from his left hand as he unraveled her braid with his right. The texture was rough like bark yet they were slightly malleable like flesh. He took a deep breath, pressing his nose into the top of her head.
It was silent until he lifted his head. She felt sleepy. He was warm and she felt comfort like this. “Does that sate your curiosity?” His voice sounded distant. “Yes,” she replied. Her posture sunk in guilt. Perhaps it was wrong to ask. “How about you?” The question was abrupt but she felt she needed to answer. “No. Not really. Nothing serious, at least.” Her fingers fiddled with the tips of her unraveled hair. “Really?” He teased. She was sure he was curious about their current state. But even she was unsure how she felt about the druid. It hadn’t been very long. They found each other beautiful and enjoyed the company of the other but that was the extent of it.
“Do you have children?”
“You ask a lot of questions, don’t you?” He laughed. “Yes. I have a son and many daughters.” He said it like it was normal for him. Perhaps it was for his kind. Immortal. She remembered when she was like that. It had been gone for some years now. Part of her missed it but she adjusted. A mortal life was more beautiful in concept but she didn’t know when she would die. She frowned at the thought.
“Are you upset?” He asked. She shook her head. “Not at that. I was thinking of how it used to be.” Galadriel reached her hand out, looking at it. She had still kept her youth yet time wore on her more than it had before. “Immortality.”
“You are lucky to be mortal. I would never wish it to return to your kind.”
The statement seemed harsh but she understood him. His chest pressed into her back, pushing her forward until he could position his hands well enough away from her. She slouched down slightly, gazing at the magic forming in his palms. A variety of flowers bloomed within them. They were fresh yet had no root to hold onto the soil. In moments, they started to wither. “Everything beautiful has an end but it will always have purpose and a new beginning.” His voice was soft, nearly a whisper. The flowers rapidly decayed into a glittering soil that spilled out onto the ground beneath them which grew new flowers around them.
“A mortal life is more beautiful than you think. Watch the life around you and you will see.”
The leaves crunched under the footsteps of heavy hooves. The hunter kept her own quiet with hardly a trace. She watched the body of the stag weave into the trees. It was calm, unaware of her presence. She moved in closer, her bow bending as she drew an arrow into it. Her reaction must be quick for it to be successful. As she turned around the tree to shoot, she stopped, her glowing diamond eyes wide in awe. Her bow creaked as she relieved it of pressure.
It wasn’t an ordinary stag. The creature had the body of a man as well. He was beautiful as he was terrifying. The flora around him flourished as he trekked through the forest. A spirit, perhaps? She had only read texts of these types of creatures. Cenarius being one of them yet only those who have been to the dream had ever witnessed him. It was said he had many sons and daughters. Perhaps this was one of them. She couldn’t be certain.
“You can come out, stranger. No need to hide.”
As he addressed her, she nearly dropped her bow. She hardly knew what to do with herself. Her heart felt like it was going to burst. Words couldn’t form upon her lips. She stumbled out into the open, hiding her bow behind her. She felt ashamed she was about to fire at something like him. His head turned towards her. His beauty caused her cheeks to flush a soft violet against her cool, cerulean skin.
“A hunter? Mistook me for prey, have you?”
He chuckled with a warm smile on his face. She didn’t know what to say. “Ye- I mean, no. Not at all.” Her embarrassment was clearer than glass and shown all over her face. The centaur let out a hearty laugh as he began to approach her. She stepped back a bit and he stopped.
“Are you afraid? I can assure you I am no threat.”
He frowned, crossing his arms over his bear chest. His hair was long and rough in texture similar to a horses. Leaves, flowers, and vines wrapped sparsely around his frame as if it was natural for them to grow there. If she knew better, he was definitely a druid. “I’m not afraid. Just… I’ve never encountered anyone of your kind before. My apologies.” She felt bad for feeling uneasy. If she were to be honest, he was intimidating. His sheer size alone was twice her own. He smiled at her once more and it made her stomach flutter.
“Don’t apologize, it is alright. Would you like to walk with me?”
As a hunter, she had a sole responsibility. It was to bring food back to her village before sundown. Unable to resist the request of the magnificent man before her, she neglected this duty. She could only nod in response. “Excellent,” he said, “Let us walk.” His movements were slower than before. It was as if he was consciously doing so to allow her to keep up. “I am curious, what is your name?” His hands returned to his sides as he looked back at her. “My name?” She hesitated to answer. “Galadriel. Though some call me Gala. If you would prefer that. It’s just a shortening of my name. I know it can be a mouthful.”
Galadriel blurted out a nervous laugh, trying to rub the goosebumps off her arms as a chill shook through her body. She felt like an adolescent girl, fawning over her first crush. How stupid. “Galadriel. It’s a beautiful name. A shame that some will not say it in full.” Her face was completely red from embarrassment. He was teasing her or was he truly flirting with her? The very thought made her want to kick herself. How could he? “I am Remulos.”
I was always susceptible to whispers. They weren’t from the Naaru. No. They came from a place deeper than anyone could imagine. The voices bounced off the walls of my psyche. They tempted me with lies that seemed too good to be true. At times, they even wanted me to do horrible things to those around me. I am resilient to them. But they are all I’ve ever had. Elune had shielded the light of the moon from me and not even the purest Light would touch me.
