CHAPTER XIII #3
Stormfall nips at my ear in affection as the two of us continue down the road together.
We walk for a while with the darkness of the woods surrounding our sides, my vision adjusting to the barely-there moonslight with each step.
Eventually my breathing starts to level again as the calm of the forest erases the rage I felt at the table.
“We’re looking for a path on the left, Storm. It’ll appear between two large trees.”
I move to the side of the road even though I know we still have a ways to walk. The inlet the men disappeared into will be somewhere farther up ahead, but I’ll need the Bird of Ash’s eyes to navigate these woods without Golem.
Stormfall gives a small caw in response and pushes off my shoulder, flying along the edge of the forest before he disappears into the dark expanse. I keep walking, knowing that he’ll reappear when he needs to, and let my thoughts roam back to dinner.
That was not the way, I sigh.
Keane and Desmond handled that situation as regals, not as the friends we’ve just spent days traveling with. The men in that room would kill for them, did kill for them, so why did they think approaching the situation like that was a good idea?
And why couldn’t they have waited to discuss everything together with their father?
We could’ve invited Holis, Mana and Cal to that conversation, too.
I’m sure the King would have no problem with that.
The idea was already forming in my mind after Red Falls, but the Princes decided that interrogating the two brothers was the right course of action instead.
I nearly scoff, but then I think of Cal.
Oh, Cal.
The look of pure confusion and hurt that graced his features tonight was raw and genuine in its emotion.
It took everything in me to watch him retreat into himself, watch as he gave the twins a cold look that has never once graced his features before.
He’s been traveling with Holis and Mana just as long as I have, and never once has he questioned their intentions.
All of us have just enjoyed each other’s company.
Two yellow eyes flick towards me in the darkness of the night.
Stormfall circles around my shoulders and then glides softly at my front to follow him.
I obey the Bird of Ash and watch as his wings tilt into the forest to our left, into a thick clustering of trees.
I follow him with a frown, swearing that Golem and I walked much longer down the road before the men dipped away, but follow Stormfall nonetheless, especially when a path comes into view that looks similar to the one before.
“Wet stone,” I take a deep breath.
I don’t remember the scent on my adventure with Golem, but Stormfall is still flying sure and strong, weaving through the woods as I follow behind him. Perhaps he knows of a different way to the Hidden City.
“Slow down, Storm,” I call out, “I have to take my time around all the trees.”
The Bird of Ash doubles back and circles around my shoulders again, gliding even slower before he perches on a tree limb and waits for me to catch up. I follow him like this down the path for a long while, eventually moving into an unusual clearing in the woods.
“Storm…?”
My eyes go wide at the sight in front of me.
He’s led me into a large clearing within the forest, one that has thick and lush green grass that reaches all the way up past my ankles.
The forest surrounds the whole of the clearing in a cozy embrace, forming an almost perfect circle that opens up to the sky above.
It’s just a field of grass without any trees or woods, though there is a wide boulder directly in center that looks a bit out of place.
I walk into the middle of the clearing and turn around to marvel at this unique section of flat land. It’s definitely not a path to the Hidden City, but it is a beautiful and serene area of the woods to relax in.
“This isn’t where I need to be,” I tell Storm, watching as the Bird of Ash circles above the boulder before dropping down on top of it, “thank you for bringing me here, it’s beautiful, but I want to spend the night in the Hidden City.”
Stormfall chirps and cocks his head down at me, not moving from his spot. I reach my hand up and beckon him to get a move on.
“Come, Storm. This isn’t the right place. We need to double back to the road and continue further down.”
Stormfall’s yellow beady eyes hold mine without a single twitch.
“Stormfall,” I chide, reaching my hand higher, “let’s go.”
“A fitting name,” an amused voice states from behind.
I freeze in my stance at the power in that voice as an unnatural chill runs down my spine. Stormfall caws from above in recognition of the stranger, his wings flapping to his side as my own hand slowly dips down to my bicep.
“No need for a weapon, Alex,” the voice says from afar.
I scowl when my fingers meet the silk of my long-sleeve, forgetting that both of my daggers are hidden within my boots.
“Show yourself,” I turn around to the voice, ignoring his comment about the weapons as I reach down quickly for my blade.
My hand is immediately stopped by a cool sliver of forest air, the force unseen but holding it in place.
I watch in horror as my fingers still just above my knee, my whole arm and hand caught in some type of magic, unable to move.
“What in the Old World…” I whisper.
This should not exist.
Air summoning should not exist!
“I said, no weapon,” the voice repeats.
I quickly glance to the dark forest surrounding us, unable to spot the summoner. I glance back down to the invisible force still holding my hand in place and try to push against it.
“Storm,” I glance to the beast in help. His yellow eyes watch me from atop the boulder, the glance warming with affection and not a single hint of fear.
“You will receive no help from him right now,” that voice replies in amusement, “the Bird of Ash is mine.”
My body completely tenses at the words.
It can’t be.
He’s supposed to be sleeping.
“A good jest, summoner,” I yell to the forest.
“Never a jest when it comes to you, Lady.”
The forest air holding my hand in place finally falls away. I quickly stand up and search for his voice in the clearing around me, my heart beating at an unnatural rhythm.
“Show yourself,” I demand again, done with all the games tonight.
A small chuckle reaches my side at the right.
I swiftly turn to the sound and narrow my eyes on the dense forest beyond.
The woods themselves are too dark and cloaked in shadows, leaving me with no way to spot a figure, but the cool air that stilled my hand just moments before is now starting to rise around the trees.
I frown at the small mist that forms, watching as it moves into the clearing and begins to cover the tips of the grass.
“Over here, Lady,” the man replies, sarcasm dripping from the last word.
I turn again to the sound, this time angling my body back towards the boulder above me as my eyes go wide. There, just sitting at the top like he’s always been there, is a young man looking down at me.
No.
Not a young man.
A grown man sits on top of the boulder. A grown man with youthful features.
He’s looking down at me with a sly grin on his lips, one knee propped up against his chest with an arm casually resting over it.
His other leg is dangling over the rock below him, his lower half covered in riding pants of deep, rich black that accentuates his thighs.
His whole body sits casual, his chest pressed towards his knee with an easy confidence that not many can convey.
That chest is resting proud behind an intricate grey tunic that has no sleeves, the full of it accentuating the cut muscles in his arms. The man may have youthful features, but his stance is of someone who is very in command of his being.
I watch as he reaches a hand over his knee and strokes Stormfall’s neck, the Bird of Ash leaning into him with both familiarity and fondness.
Both of their eyes stare down at me, and it’s then that I nearly gasp when I notice the color of the man’s gaze.
They’re a deep golden in color, the full of them glowing in the night as they look at me with an emotion I can’t quite pinpoint.
I avert my gaze from that striking gold and take in the rest of his features.
He has thick black hair that waves beautifully in front of his face and rests just above his shoulders, only adding to the confident casualness that is him.
His cheeks are a bit fuller, just like mine, but he also has a sharp jawline that gives him an air of serious curiosity about him.
He continues to watch me with that look behind his eyes, an emotion I recognize now but can’t quite grasp why…
He stares at me as if we are long lost friends.
I look back at this man with a new curiosity of my own, noticing that the cool forest air around us is now rising from the grass to greet him. It moves across the boulder in a thin mist as if it’s an extension of him, and in this moment I realize that he’s commanding it.
Ancients.
There’s only one person known in the Old World who still retains the ability to summon the elemental air.
“No sleep for you then?” I hold his unnatural gaze steadily, “Hirovale.”
The Ancient grins down at me, “not since you woke my right hand, Alex.”
He continues to caress Storm’s neck, the Bird of Ash still leaning into his touch, “though my prior sleep has been entertaining, Lady. Mostly because it was you who graced my dreams...”
He smiles down as if in memory, “those dreams have been interesting.”
What in the Old World?
“You have me at a disadvantage, Ancient,” I scowl, watching this young man carefully.
Not a young man, my mind corrects again. While his features look to be a year or two younger than Keane, he sits and holds himself with an air of such confidence and easy determination that only a man of many years can exude that.