23. Taldesa
Taldesa
Before her parents had decided to get rid of her, the Valays had gone to the Chroma Coast for a family vacation.
Tala—already stubborn at the age of seven— bolted out of the carriage and onto the warm sandy beach before either of her parents could pull her back.
Bothersome skirts flew behind her as the salty air pushed deep behind her nose.
Tala had only one goal and it was the ocean.
Without care or concern for her parents’ angry shouts, Tala ripped her shoes off and jumped into the waves.
The water was clear, cool, and the sensation of the waves swaying her small body back and forth had her laughing.
Beyond a reef of pink, purple, and orange corals was the mysterious deep blues of the ocean.
Secrets hidden in their depths that Tala naturally was inclined to follow.
Except she didn’t get very far as an odd blob came into her vision.
It was bulbous, nearly floating across the top of the water.
Long, thin strands that Tala could only assume was hair followed behind it.
But what made Tala most curious about this mysterious thing, was the deep blue color of its round body.
She could only stare in awe of it, marveling at how despite the saturated color, Tala could still see through it.
Naturally, Tala reached out a hand to greet this mysterious thing…
And a pain unlike anything her seven year old body had known up until then exploded across the back of her wrist.
Poison was one of the most common ailments in all of Ordia.
Between the animals and the alchemists, there was plenty to go around.
But with the added bonus of monsters—well, the possibilities were endless.
Being educated on poison, toxins, and venom was a requirement at both the Sanctuary of the Moon Maidens and the Archive of the Valiant Circle.
There were many dangerous individuals who dealt in poison.
From assassination attempts of opposing politicians to a simple husband attempting to collect his wife’s inheritance.
Every monk worth their honey was trained in herbalism for the very real and inevitable encounter with a foreign body.
Yet when it finally came back around to hit Tala, she was grossly unprepared.
Half delirious from the encounter with her dual wielding stalker, Tala only half remembered dragging her body back to the inn.
Unlike the controlled dosages High Conservator Aelidon had administrated, whatever had been on that man’s blade was far more potent.
Tala’s limbs felt heavy, like they were transforming into stone.
Involuntary shivers had wracked her body, and her vision had blurred by the time she made it to the bards’ door.
Realistically, Tala probably should have gone to her own room, but the fever boiling her brain hadn’t exactly given her clarity in the moment.
Her memory after knocking was fuzzy and as her eyes slowly cracked open, Tala tried to reconcile the pieces.
She was laying on a bed in a dark room. Her limbs were weak, but Tala could tell her body was no longer fighting for its life. High Conservator Aelidon—for all her stuffy rules—had been thorough after her last lesson.
‘A long time ago, all denizens of Ordia were synchronized with their bodies boons and banes. It is a muscle, Tala, that we at the Valiant Circle have dutifully trained for decades. In order to recognize when your body has been compromised—either through poison or some magical method—you must be able to attune with it. Only then can you resist it. And if you’re lucky enough? One day you’ll be able to master it.’
Tala closed her eyes. Calming her mind enough to check in with her body—it wasn’t her specialty, but Tala was determined.
Her stubborn streak could outwit Cercel, surely Tala could tap into her body and find the answers.
She took a deep breath, held it, and exhaled.
Over and over again, until she almost felt light headed.
Shapes and vague ideas of colors played behind her eyelids and just when she was about to shout in frustration, Tala felt it.
Like a heat radiating from the hearth of the Tipsy Top Inn, right along her ribs.
There was poison there—yet, Tala felt none of the symptoms that had plagued her hours ago.
She searched her memories, tried to recall what Cercel had taught her.
As far as Tala could remember, there had been no remedy administrated to her, so how was there poison in her body with no side effects?
A huff of breath against her neck made Tala freeze. Her lax hands became fists, ready to strike when an arm suddenly made itself known around her middle.
What the fuck—
When her eyes shot open, it was Casimine’s blurry face that greeted her.
Tala jerked back, felt the chest of another body—a wide, muscled body.
Ameriden. Fuck, she was sandwiched between the two of them.
Which meant whatever lost time she had, they probably witnessed the worst of it.
A part of her knew this wasn’t professional in the slightest—in the sense that having a weak bodyguard probably wasn’t going to win her any points with Seira.
Fuck, you screwed up, Tala.
If there was any hope of salvaging this, Tala would have to put the work in.
She needed to get up, throw back a shot of the strongest alcohol she could find, and go back to patrolling.
Anything to save her the knowing smirks and embarrassment when the two bards gained consciousness.
The last thing she needed was for them to tease her when her pride as a monk was in the literal gutter.
Slowly, Tala shifted with the intention of sliding low until she could hook her feet near the bottom of the bed.
“Where are you going?” Casimine whispered.
Shit, fuck, shit.
“I—” Tala licked her lips, everything in her mouth felt dry. “Just gonna get out of your hair.”
“You aren’t in our hair.” Casimine caught her hand, pulling it so he could clasp it against his chest. “You’ve been poisoned; you need rest.”
The urge to spit out something sarcastic nearly took over Tala’s mouth.
Yet, something in Casimine’s half-lidded stare and sleepy expression caught those words before they could land.
A strange comfort that Tala wasn’t comfortable with, but couldn’t pull away from what had bloomed between them.
Maybe it was the exhaustion from the fight or the poison.
Maybe it was because she was naked—and fairly certain that Casimine was naked, too.
Or maybe, Tala missed Avie a lot more than she realized.
But whatever the reason, Tala found her body going slack as she settled against Casimine.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, gently pushing a strand of hair from her temple.
“Ahh,” Tala fumbled, trying her best to ignore the flush rising in her cheeks. “I feel like I had one too many shots at the Tipsy Top and then I drank a bottle of Dragon Spit.”
True to it’s name, Dragon Spit was as disgusting as it sounded.
That was kind of the point, as the drink served one purpose and one purpose only.
To get a room so shit faced that you were guaranteed to wake up in the biggest puddle of spit, you would think you had been spat up by some dragon.
It wasn’t Tala’s favorite, but like many young denizens at a bar, it was only natural to try it once.
“I’ve never tried it, but I’ve seen what it can do,” Casimine huffed a small laugh against her mouth.
“It’s not worth it,” Tala murmured.
“Tala…” Casimine breathed her name. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Concern—genuine concern was rare for Tala.
Sure, Cercel and High Conservator Aelidon cared, but it was hard not to think they were required to.
That it was concern that sprung from a place of responsibility.
The way a tutor would care for their student.
There was always a layer of propriety involved.
A requirement that made the affection feel less real, less whole.
Tala might have been thick when it came to people, but she wasn’t oblivious to Casimine. Not to the way he was looking at her, or the way Ameriden’s body shuffled closer to her own. His grip was tight, like he didn’t dare let her go the same way Casimine’s eyes said as much.
To be worried about—not because of rules or tradition, but just because?
Tala hated how much it made her heart quicken, how desperately she wanted someone to worry about her.
To actually give a shit about her. It was embarrassing and not at all something she was comfortable admitting out loud, but nevertheless, Tala clung to Casimine’s hand.
“I’m okay,” she assured. “Whatever that poison was—I can feel it still, but it’s not bothering me…
I know, it makes no fucking sense, but the monks taught me how to check in with myself.
How to tell when we’ve been manipulated with magic or poison.
I can feel the poison—it’s still in my system, but I don’t feel like it’s trying to kill me. ”
It was a strange sensation, like when her parents had the doctor visit in her youth and she was inoculated from certain illnesses.
A blooming warmth that made her skin hot, but showed no other symptom.
Whether it was immunity or not—well, Tala wasn’t a healer.
She only knew that her body wasn’t screaming at her to seek immediate medical attention the way it did before.
“Did you…”
“Amer and I healed your wounds, but we aren’t alchemists or herbalists,” Casimine explained. “My family taught me how to identify poisons—but it was only the basics. I don’t know a thing about how to treat it. Amer and I wanted to call for a doctor, but you kept fighting us.”
“That… sounds like me.”
“You have a mean right hook when you’re angry.”
“Shit. I didn’t hurt you guys too bad, did I?”
“No,” Casimine shook his head, a small gesture against her forehead. “Amer got the worse of it, but he’s very hardy. Nothing a bit of water and makeup can’t hide.”
“Fuck, I can only imagine what your fans would do to me if they found out I beat up their favorite bard group,” Tala groaned.
“Luckily, they won’t know,” Casimine smiled. “They might have access to us, but our fans don’t have access to our lover.”
Lover.
Damn.
The word was for books—the kind that Avie would read, not for girls like Tala. It was intimate and personal and—
“Your face is warm,” Casimine whispered.
“Gods damn it, Casimine,” Tala cursed. “Shut up.”
“I didn’t mean to embarrass you. Amer and I—well, we really enjoyed our time together—with you.
We never really spoke about doing it again, but I think he and I are in agreement that we’re happy to continue this…
whatever this is, for as long as you’re willing,” Casimine murmured.
“It doesn’t have to be a one time thing… it could be more.”
Resistance—Tala’s default—roared in her ears at the proposal.
Why her? Why would either of them want her?
Tala wasn’t a catch the way Avie was—fuck, the way Cercel was.
She was the rotten apple at the bottom of the barrel.
A problem, somebody’s problem meant to be solved.
Tala wasn’t meant for softness, for sweet words spoken in the middle of the night, for strong arms wrapped around her athletic frame.
And even if she were to say yes, this wouldn’t last forever.
Eventually, her bodyguard job would be over.
Her fate rested on the job—passing or failing would determine if she stayed with the Valiant Circle or if she would be sent off to the next monastery with a brand new god to appease.
Eventually, one way or another, she would have to say goodbye.
Fuck all of this.
Without a word, Tala pressed her naked body to Casimine’s and kissed him harshly.