7. Aether lilies
Aether lilies
A ll things concerned, the start of their journey was not a bad one. Luella, snippy as she was, turned out to be a more than excellent guide and tracker. She made it clear she considered him a bit of an idiot, which he thought was highly amusing, but they worked together well enough.
Garren proved to be decent company too. He didn’t pry or push – he simply shared the occasional story of a good fight or a good horse, which Felix was not required to respond to beyond a nod or a hum.
The group quickly settled into a rhythm.
They rose with the sun, broke camp, and covered as much ground as they could before dusk while the forest stretched endlessly around them.
Even Isolde adapted, helping wherever she could.
To Felix’s mild surprise, she was capable enough to handle her own horse, and she never complained about the long hours or rough conditions.
As Felix was setting up his tent one evening, a handful of days into their journey, light, hesitant footsteps approached, and he glanced up to see Isolde. She stopped a few paces away, her fingers intertwined, shuffling her feet.
“So, where in the Medraj are you from?” she asked, her voice curious .
Felix paused, his hand tightening on the stake he was holding. He’d assumed she needed help with something, and her question caught him off guard. He wasn’t used to people asking him about himself. “I’m not,” he replied after a moment. “As far as I know, I was born in Azuill.”
Her brow furrowed, and her head tilted. “As far as you know…?”
“Yes, as far as I know,” he said, a hint of impatience creeping into his voice. He sat back on his haunches, brushing dirt off his hands. “I never knew my parents.”
“You… Oh! That’s why you don’t have the accent.
” Realisation dawned on her, and her eyes widened.
“You’re an orphan! But they did name you?
They must have been from Medrajium. It is a Medraj name, after all.
And you look… Well, you look like the people from the south.
Did you know it means luck? I always found it a very fascinating language, if difficult. Do you speak any of it?”
Felix blinked at her, caught off guard by her babbling. Was she making fun of him? Her tone didn’t suggest malice, but he couldn’t help being wary. “I didn’t,” he said flatly. “Must be some kind of joke from the universe.”
She frowned. “A joke? Why? It’s a nice name.”
He looked up at her, his expression wry. “I’m not exactly the luckiest person, my lady.”
Her eyes widened again, and this time her voice softened, her earlier enthusiasm dimming. “Oh… I see.” A brief pause, then, “I’m sorry, Felix. I don’t mean to pry. It’s just… it would be nice to get to know each other. It’s going to be a long journey.”
Felix regarded her in silence for a moment, her words turning over in his mind.
She was not wrong, but there were things she did not – should not – know.
It would be better, easier, if they maintained a polite distance.
He turned back to his work, giving the tent a lot more attention than it needed.
“I prefer not talking about myself,” he said, his tone making it clear the conversation was over.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her shoulders slump. She lingered for a heartbeat longer, then walked back toward her own tent, where Garren had just appeared to assist her.
Felix exhaled. He’d expected relief at her withdrawal, but it somehow never came.
** *
It was only a few days later that she engaged him again, apart from polite exchanges about travel matters.
The sun hung high overhead, casting long streaks of light through the trees as the group followed a trail that had widened enough for two horses to walk abreast. Felix rode a short distance behind Isolde, his thoughts preoccupied with scanning the surrounding forest. Garren had gone up to speak with Luella, their low voices carrying from farther up the path.
Isolde cast a thoughtful expression over her shoulder. She slowed down her horse until she was alongside him.
“I only left Azuill twice before this.” Her tone was casual, with only a hint of uncertainty shining through.
“When I was a little girl, we went to visit family in Lledia. I barely remember any of it, except having to sit in a carriage for what felt like forever. The house there was very dusty and dark. I hated it. My aunt was so nice, though. I wished she lived closer.”
Felix glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. Why was she telling him this?
“The other time was just a few years ago. My father told me we were merely going away for the season, but later I found out it was because of the Aetherglass Feud. We spent the summer in Taruel, down the river. We took a barge to get there – it was wonderful.” She sighed wistfully.
Felix remembered the Aetherglass Feud very well.
He had more than a few scars courtesy of that affair, and he had been flush with gold for a good while afterwards.
‘Wonderful’ is not how he would have described it, but there had been worse times.
He felt her watching him, waiting for some kind of response.
He kept silent, but the ghost of a smile crept across his face at her piercing expression.
Her lips pressed together briefly, but she didn’t seem deterred. “Apart from those trips, I’ve spent my entire life in Azuill,” she continued. “I’m an only child. My mother died when I was little, and my father never remarried.”
Felix glanced at her again. She spoke with little emotion, but the way she kept her gaze fixed on the trail ahead suggested careful control .
“I like books,” she added after a moment. “And nature, and animals. And learning new things. I’ve been studying alchemy and reading a really exciting book recently called Tales of the Sands. Until…” Her voice faltered, the words hanging in the air.
Felix risked a proper look at her this time. Her expression betrayed nothing, but the faint shimmer of magic swirling around her was impossible to miss. It pulsed, the energy wild and unsteady. Her mare flicked its ears and shook its head, agitated by the sparks.
“I’m sorry,” Felix heard himself say, “for what happened. I can’t imagine what this must be like for you.”
She turned towards him and blinked. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “I really appreciate that.”
“I’m still not going to share my life story.”
Isolde huffed. “I didn’t expect you would. You can be as mysterious as you like.” A glint of mischief sparkled in her eyes. “I have plenty of time.”
Felix thought she was very odd for a highborn lady.
***
Apparently, as Isolde was concerned, the ice between them was well and truly broken now.
She talked freely, sharing stories about her life, the subjects she had studied, and her favourite childhood memories.
All that afternoon she stayed beside Felix, her enthusiasm unrestrained.
The following days were no different – she would often ride alongside him, pointing out trees, plants, and even fungi with genuine delight.
Felix kept waiting for the irritation to set in, expecting to grow tired of her chatter, but to his surprise it never happened.
Instead, he enjoyed her company. There was something infectious about her energy, and how much sheer knowledge she possessed quietly impressed him.
Even the driest facts about the forest seemed to come to life in her voice.
He had been prepared to travel alongside a spoiled princess, crying and complaining.
It would still have been worth the gold, but only just.
He’d never thought she would be someone so likeable, or that she would be so persistent in trying to befriend him.
She was funny and smart, and she treated him like an equal.
He liked her smile as well. It was contagious.
He was dimly aware it was risky to allow himself to get close to her, considering that on top of everything else, she was stunning, and he wasn’t blind.
But, well, when had “risky” ever put him off anything before?
Isolde didn’t ask him direct questions about himself.
Instead, she’d tell him something about her own life, or share her opinion on a topic, and then fall silent, casting a sidelong glance at him as if waiting for his response.
Felix would just grin, his silence speaking volumes, and she would roll her eyes before moving on.
But she never pushed it, and Felix appreciated her all the more for that.
The spectre of Lord Trevalyan’s instructions lingered in the back of his mind.
Sometimes he glanced at Isolde’s face as she was lecturing him on plant lore, or history, and wondered if he’d be able to do it.
If it came to it, if there was no other way.
But the Nexus was far away, and many things could happen before they reached their destination.
He decided not to worry about it too much.
***
The forest floor grew rocky, and on higher parts of the trail, they could spot low mountains in the distance to the west. Birds chirped high in the canopy, their songs mingling with the soft crunch of the horses’ hooves on the leaves.
Isolde’s sharp intake of breath broke the quiet. She brought her horse to a halt, her gaze fixed on a patch of vibrant blue flowers. “Wait! Over there!” she said, her voice full of excitement.
Felix frowned, squinting at the plants. “What? Oh, flowers.”
“Flowers?” Isolde echoed, dismounting with a jump. She rushed toward the patch of blue, her cloak trailing behind her. “They’re Aether Lilies!”
Felix exchanged a bemused glance with Garren, who shrugged .
Isolde crouched down, her eyes wide with excitement. “They’re magical and extremely rare! I’ve only ever seen illustrations in books! If I can press one, it’ll last forever. This is incredible.”
Her gloved hand reached for the closest flower, her movements careful and reverent. As her fingertips brushed the petals, the flower’s bright blue hue drained in an instant, fading to ashen grey. The stem wilted, curling in on itself until it crumbled to dust between her fingers.
Isolde gasped, pulling back as if burned. “No – oh no…” Her voice trembled, the joy replaced with horror.
“Not much left to press,” Felix offered dryly. Luella smacked him on the shoulder.
“I… I didn’t mean to…” Isolde’s hands hovered above the remains of the flower, and her magic stirred around her, swirling like smoke.
Garren knelt beside her, his voice steady. “It wasn’t your fault, my lady.”
“That doesn’t make it any better!” Isolde jumped up. She spun toward the other flowers, her expression filled with despair. “I can’t even touch something beautiful without destroying it?”
Her magic flared, and the remaining lilies shivered, their petals dimming.
When she noticed, she howled in frustration, and a shockwave of pent up magic exploded outward from her like a clap of thunder.
The force of it threw Felix backwards. He hit the ground hard; knocking the breath from his lungs.
The blast also sent Garren and Luella flying, and they landed in the underbrush with heavy thuds.
The horses reared and bolted into the trees.
When the light dimmed, and the air settled, an eerie silence followed.
The forest floor where the flowers had been was a ring of blackened, withered plants.
Isolde stood at its heart, shaking, looking down at her hands.
The faint glow of magic lingered around her, pulsing as if mirroring her shattered composure.
Felix groaned, dragging himself upright. He leaned against the tree, wincing as he rolled his shoulder. “Well,” he said, a little hoarsely. “I was hoping not to die today, but if you insist. ”
Garren rose more slowly, his expression grim. “That… was unexpected,” he said. He glanced at Luella, who was still on hands and knees, staring wide-eyed at Isolde.
Isolde’s hands continued to tremble, her face twisted with a mix of horror and confusion.
“I... I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I couldn’t stop it.
But…” She frowned, as if in thought. “I think maybe I understand it a little more now.” She was mumbling, more to herself than to anyone else.
“...take it in, then I should be able to…”
She turned away from the rest of the group, who were all standing frozen, staring at her. She frowned, biting her lip, then took off her gloves. The ley markings on the skin of her hand were glowing so brightly they stood out even in the midday sunlight.
“My lady…” Garren began, but Isolde ignored him.
She knelt down, her face a mask of intense concentration, and reached out to touch one of the shrivelled plants.
Tiny beads of sweat formed on her forehead as she focused, her breathing shallow.
For a long moment, nothing happened. Then, ever so slowly, the blackened plant shifted.
The stem lightened to brown, then took on a timid green hue.
It straightened, and a single green leaf unfurled.
Felix released the breath he’d been holding. Her magic had somehow returned the plant to life. His mind staggered at the implications of that kind of power. Judging by the expression on Garren and Luella’s faces, they were coming to the same realisation.
But before anyone regained the ability to speak, Isolde slumped wordlessly sideways.