13. First Adventure
First Adventure
D eclan flew past countless servants and nobles on the stairs as he pounded down them, searching for a way out. The only one he recognized was Cellica who was coming up the stairs with red paper and a purple ribbon lovingly cradled in her arms. Her head jerked up as he breezed by her.
“D-Declan?” She called after him uncertainly.
“Fine! I’m fine! Go to the king!” He managed to say without looking back or slowing down.
He wasn’t sure if Aquilan was still upstairs or was following after him. Either way, he hoped that Cellica found the Sun King and slowed or stopped him from following after Declan. It was ridiculous to think that Aquilan could care so much to run after a bartender.
The king and the bartender! It could be a book title! He laughed bitterly.
But regardless of how he viewed himself, regardless of how others might view him and Aquilan, he had a feeling that the king would come after him. Aquilan’s pure goodness would inspire it.
I can still feel his skin under my fingertips. I can still smell his hair in my nostrils. And his warmth keeps the chill away.
And you think words are your enemy. You ought to be a poet.
The voice was back.
But it was his turn to ignore it.
He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. Everything inside of him was both chilled and on fire. The last place he should be when he was so out of control was with Aquilan. Because he desperately wanted to keep a relationship with the Sun King even as he knew it was a very bad idea.
Bad? How? Because it will make you question your life? The voice was definitely back.
It’s not the questions, but the answers I worry about. Why can’t I stand the light? Who am I? Who are you? Declan demanded.
If I simply told you the answers, I doubt you would believe me. And, here the voice became almost teasing, it wouldn’t be as amusing.
My life is not for your amusement! Declan snarled.
Oh, that is where you are wrong! Everyone’s lives are for my amusement… and yours. But you’re so young, you can’t feel that yet. Everything seems so deadly serious to you, the voice answered.
Declan saw the circular foyer ahead of him.
The massive flower arrangement was limned by sunlight that poured in from the open doors.
For a moment, Declan wondered if they’d simply kept the doors open from when he and Aquilan had entered, but no.
There were two people in the foyer. One was Vesslan and Declan felt his lips writhe back from his teeth in an almost visceral reaction to the elf.
You should thank him. He gave you an excuse to be in Aquilan’s arms before you otherwise would have been. Both of you are being so very coy! The voice murmured.
Declan steadfastly ignored this comment.
At least the voice did not confuse Aquilan with Ailduin this time.
He wasn’t quite sure what that was all about, but it made him feel uneasy and wildly possessive of Aquilan.
For it was clear to him, at least, that the voice had a great affection for the dead Sun King. But this new Sun King was his .
As he rounded the ridiculous flower arrangement, he caught sight of the second person in the foyer. It was a female Aravae. She had short hair and was solidly built. There was something about her eyes that reminded him of Aquilan.
Niece, the voice said. Vesslan’s daughter.
And if he didn’t already know the voice was not his own subconscious speaking to him, he would have from that information. He had never seen this Aravae. Nor did he realize that Aquilan had a niece. But he knew the voice was right.
She was speaking rapidly to her father. “... left last night. Has he come home?”
Vesslan looked irritated with her. “How would I know? I am hardly your brother’s keeper.”
“I’ve asked the Protectors and none of them have seen him return. He’s in none of his normal haunts, Father,” she said, confirming what the voice had said. “Perhaps you would allow me to take some Protectors and go to Chicago’s ruins–”
“Absolutely not, Elasha!” Vesslan slashed his right hand through the air between them as if to physically cut off such an idea. “Your brother is fine! But if you were to drag him back here, he would not be fine and would rant on and on to Aquilan about his theories.”
“Yes, I know, but… but I’ve heard news that strange things are happening in the ruins and–”
“News? From who ?” Vesslan’s eyes were sharp and fixed upon his daughter’s face, unblinking. It reminded Declan of a look a bird of prey might give to a tasty, little mouse.
At first, Elasha quailed under that look. She opened her mouth, her lower lip trembling, as if to confess, but she suddenly hardened. Her back straightened. Her lips pressed together and her hands tightened into fists at her sides. “I have sources.”
“Sources? You?” Vesslan’s eyes narrowed.
“It doesn’t matter! Just know that what I’m saying is true. Darcassan went out last night and he hasn’t returned–”
“That you know of. Can you find him on any given day? He could be holed up in Taranth or at the archives in the Athenaeum. We have no idea where he’s secreted himself,” Vesslan said with a disgusted shake of his head.
“I won’t have you taking Protectors away from their normal duties for a wild goose chase!
Now, I won’t hear another word of this nonsense! ”
Elasha reared back as if he had physically slapped her with those words. Her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed a hectic red. One of her hands rose, shaking, to her chin. Vesslan turned away from her, seeming to not notice–or not care–about her reaction to what he had said.
Vesslan is out of sorts. You’ve proved to be more than a pebble in his shoe, the voice tutted.
Elasha suddenly shouted, “If Mother were here, she would let me go! She would go herself!”
Her words rang like clear bells in the foyer. Vesslan stopped dead in his tracks. A shudder went through his whole body. From the tips of his toes to the top of his head.
He didn’t turn around when he said, “Even if your mother was not dead, Elasha, she still would not be here. You’re old enough to realize that all of those hunting trips she went on? They were to get away from us. And the last one took her away from us forever.”
Then he walked away without a backwards glance.
There was a moment of silence and then Elasha burst into tears.
She covered her face with her hands and sobbed almost uncontrollably.
Declan’s steps had slowed as he had entered the foyer in the middle of this very personal argument.
Of course, they had been speaking in Katyr, so she wouldn’t think he could have understood a word.
That meant that he could have simply slipped past her.
No matter the famed senses of the elves, Declan was always able to get around them without them noticing.
But he found himself instead moving towards her.
Vesslan’s words were unspeakably cruel. But he didn’t know her at all.
And he highly doubted that she would be interested in a human’s– seeming human’s–comfort.
It would likely be the last thing she’d want or accept.
Not to mention, he was terrible at speaking to people.
Yet the coldness of Vesslan’s behavior towards her made him think of Vulre.
Of that insult regarding him being jadir –bloodless–and, therefore, unworthy of any love or affection.
He knew how deep those words could dig. He knew that it was sometimes impossible to pull them out. They stuck in one’s soul.
Vulre, the voice’s tone was low and frigid, if he were not already dead, I would kill him. There was a pause, But he made you strong. And you need to be that.
Elasha did not realize he was there until he was at her side. Her head jerked up and she stared at him with wide, wet eyes and red-stained cheeks. Snot was coming out of her nose. She was not a pretty crier.
“Who–who are you? And what are you doing–doing here?” she got out, desperately trying to compose herself. She managed to smear snot across her cheek.
He reached into the pocket of his long jacket.
He always seemed to have a clean rag or two on hand at all times even when he wasn’t at the bar and he did this time too.
He silently offered it to her. She hesitantly took it from him and wiped her face before blowing her nose.
It sounded like a trumpet. And, somehow, perhaps because she wasn’t as perfect as the Aravae usually pretended to be, he felt more at ease with her.
“T-thank you,” she said and tried to hand the rag back to him.
He lifted an eyebrow, which she could see above his sunglasses.
She blushed, and held onto it. “I’ll have it washed and returned to you…
you… what is your name? I’ve never seen you in the palace before.
Are you from one of the newly arrived Houses? ”
At first what she said made no sense to him. Houses? Newly arrived? And then he realized that with his hood up, she couldn’t see that his ears were round. Further, despite his human-styled clothes, she evidently thought him an elf, too. Perhaps it was because he was in the palace.
No, not quite, the voice chuckled dryly.
He didn’t answer her, but instead said, “Your brother is missing in the ruins?”
She blinked owlishly at him. “You–you heard all that?”
He shrugged. “You said something strange is happening there?”
She bit her lower lip. “The rifts have been quiet. My–my source has told me that there aren’t any incursions, which is just as strange–if not stranger–than if there were more than usual. It might be because… something else has crossed over. Something that frightens everything else away.”
For some reason, Declan remembered the horned being in the woods. He had no reason to think that and this were connected. Yet… He expected the voice to say something. To make some pithy remark. But it remained silent.