Chapter Three #2
“I do not wish to take your role, nor do I envy your title, Imperial Lead Guard Hendry,” Varic says with meaning.
“You seem to adore lording over Imperial Grand Witch Tasch and her Guards. So, if you must know, the reason I cast the shield was to prevent you from coming any closer after she told you ‘no’.”
“You treat her with disdain when we first arrive, then moments later act as her enforcer, and you expect me to believe it has nothing to do with your envy of me and my position?” Hendry squares his shoulders as he challenges the Sergeant.
“She said ‘no’.” Sergeant Varic gestures in my direction.
“And you did not listen.” He points a finger at Hendry.
“If my reputation for handling bullies has not preceded me in the stores told by other officers to taunt me, then allow me to explain—I will not tolerate the mistreatment of those placed in vulnerable positions.”
He straightens, and my magic detects his righteous anger shifting to pride—though not the kind I am most accustomed to the Emperor feeling. Instead it is the distinct sense of righteousness one experiences when defending another.
“While her power is known throughout the Continent, she is not a threat to you,” Sergeant Varic continues. “However, since your magic is closest in power to my own, you potentially pose one, should you ever lose your temper—a behavior which I just observed in you.”
“I would never hurt her,” Hendry grits, stepping closer to the shield wall.
“I once said the same of everyone I was responsible for protecting.” Varic’s admission casts a blanket of silence until he continues. “How wrong I was, or else none of you would have been sent here to save me from myself.”
“It still doesn’t explain the drastic shift in the way you’re treating her,” Hendry says.
Varic forces out a breath. “I cannot make you recognize just how little I envy your position. However, if I can convince you of one thing, allow it to be that any mistreatment of the witch who has been entrapped in a role where she must mitigate the damage of our ruling tyrant will result in me ‘acting as her enforcer’.”
The heat of a thousand suns fills my cheeks, because living with Guards who are loyal and protective is one thing; however, they have never approached my safety nor displayed their consideration for my comfort like Varic has just now.
A sense of something rare settles over the curve of my shoulders. Comfort—how I imagine it would feel to have a loved one drape a warm blanket over me—pulsing in blue ribbons from the sorcerer’s body propped against my own.
He’s showing me who he is. The real Varic.
The protector who would never intend to hurt anyone.
“You’re okay, Tasch?” Hendry asks.
“Yes.”
His footsteps recede as he steps back behind the partition as Varic locks eyes with me, conveying a sense of recognition trilling from somewhere deep inside him, instilling an unusual sense of familiarity in my chest. Feeling as if I know this sorcerer better than my own being.
As if I have known him long before I existed on this Continent, with a strange sense of confidence that I would know him, regardless.
That time and place are irrelevant when it comes to us.
As if our very souls are the tether, connecting us in ways we cannot hope to fathom.
His natural magnetism draws me in, and I shift until the warmth of his bare skin radiates through the fabric of my skirts.
Our gazes lock, and our bodies touch as an unfamiliar comfort unfurls within me.
A feeling I have siphoned from others swirls around us like low-hanging fog until my heart constricts at the recognition of another emotion he has conjured—an emotion we should all feel with regularity.
One I have long envied, yet never attained.
A sense of safety, which feels strange under the circumstances, though I cannot deny its unique signature.
Linens flatten under my palm as I reach for him, giving in to the urge to gently graze his fingertips with my own.
His gaze drops to watch my movement with an expression of amused curiosity as he flexes the hand I seek, with the black ink our Empire’s Dragon sigil tattoo dancing over the back of it.
His eyes find mine as he sends me emotions he shouldn’t be capable of transmitting so expertly.
I swallow down the fear of anyone else being able to learn of him doing this, uncertain as to how or why he’s able to send me each thread of trust, respect, and understanding.
His own hand flattens, and he presses it closer until we each pull in a sharp breath as he ever-so-gently laces his fingers between my own.
Varic is tender in his touch, with an expression I can only describe as reverent, conjuring a sense of longing I nearly forgot was possible with how many years it has remained dormant.
What might my life have been like were I to have been held like this more often?
Appreciation spirals through my limbs with the strangely intimate way our fingers graze as they weave together over the bedcovers.
“You smell nice.” A smile is discernible in his voice, and I fail to stifle a laugh in response. “What is that?” His chest expands with a deep intake of breath as he tips forward, supposedly to pull in more of my signature scent to try to place it.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” I say, with more mirth in my voice than I’m used to hearing. “Some mix of native wildflowers is all the identification I’ve been given.”
He shrugs, curiosity not yet satisfied—not with the way it swirls through his middle, according to my magic. His expression turns serious, and he clears his throat, while I brace for whatever words his annoyingly perfect lips are about to form.
“I heard you defend me to General Blace,” he says, a sense of awe conveyed in his delivery. “You’re not who I expected you to be.” Warmth blossoms from the center of my chest at his admission. “I’m sorry,” he says, the sentiment apparent in both his expression and tone.
Shaking my head, my eyes fall closed with the heightened awareness of his gaze trained on me and all the heat that it brings, making it no surprise when his eyes lock with mine the moment I brave facing him.
Reading his history within the amber threads of his irises, something outside myself sends me the awareness that this is not the end for Varic and me.
Not now that I refuse to abandon this survivor of the worst parts of our Empire.
With the mere thought of proving my magic cannot cure his depression, nor heal the deep well of grief within him, twisting my stomach, failing him is no longer an option.
My own hubris mocks me, since His Majesty would never accept an outcome which he did not command to happen. My plan would only anger him, causing him to tighten his lead, choking me to keep me closer. Or he would kill me. And would the Empire be better for it?
Nothing will ever convince him to free me. Only his death will mean the end of my service. Then whoever he chooses as a successor will wield control of my power.
I can no longer carry out the plan I had intended. Not when it will punish this sorcerer who has endured so much and without support. Without the aid of anyone else in existence who understands what it means to carry the weight of pain and sorrow.
My magic alone cannot drag him from this chasm. Any chance at saving him will require a true connection to form between us, which will mean being vulnerable in ways that have never been safe.
Newfound terror penetrates that blanket of comfort he so carefully laid over my being as I am unsure I can face the worst parts of my history in order to ensure that he has a future.
His fingers cast up and down my own, gently caressing as he continues to stare down at them, igniting a spark of steadfast determination as I consider him.
A need to give this sorcerer a purpose—a reason to live in this world despite the despair I feel upon waking most days, with the wish that death would show me a kindness and take me in my sleep.
I will not save him as an Imperial servant carrying out our ruler’s command.
No, I will save Varic for myself. As well as for him.
The sorcerer caught in the middle of all of this.
I will save him to honor every one of us harmed by the ruler forcing his citizens to operate past their limits, without the recognition that, ultimately, no one benefits.
How, in exploiting our bodies and magic to seek more power for himself, the Emperor has created a life filled with misery, where there is never enough of anything.
I will help this sorcerer to replace all that the Emperor has stolen from him.
Because the best revenge will be to see someone like Varic live the best life possible.