4. Elora
4
ELORA
“ I t’s well past noon child, and you could use some sunlight.” Granuail says.
I start, lifting my head from my studies to glance up at her. She sat in a chair in the corner, sewing small, intricate designs into a linen square. I had a whole drawer full of handkerchiefs embroidered with small flowers and other intricate designs.
I sigh, nodding.
The words were starting to blend anyways.
I’d been able to find a few things that explained the process behind what they called ‘evocation,’ or the conjuring of spirits or deities.
According to my research it was fairly simple. All I needed was salt, candles, the demon’s sigil, my blood and intention.
Easy enough.
The next biggest issue, would anyone be willing to conjure a demon?
I shake my head.
I would never expect someone to put themselves in that position, and from what I read it took a willing participant anyways.
I was more than willing and would gladly trade places with my nephew.
I push my chair backwards, the legs scuffing against the wood floor.
I stand, stretching.
The candles had long since burned out, and the light shining through the single window was starting to fade, telling me the sun was on the other side of the castle.
Gathering up the books, I open the door, letting Granuail exit first before locking it and returning the key to its hiding place on the bookshelf.
I help my handmaid descend the stairs before returning the books back to their places.
I kneel down, worrying at my bottom lip as I scan the books in the area, looking for anything else that could be of any assistance.
Granuail huffs. “I hope you aren’t planning anything stupid, child.”
The statement is spoken softly, and I stand, brushing off my skirts as I turn to take her hand in mine.
I give it a light squeeze.
I was never any good at lying, so I had learned from an early age not to say anything at all.
I take Granuail’s arm in mine, and we walk from the library, nodding in greeting to people as we walk by them.
I’m quiet as we make our way down the corridor.
Salt was easy to get.
Candles were easy to get.
I could take my letter opener with me.
I reach my hand into my pocket, fingering the folded piece of parchment there. The demon’s sigil lies at my fingertips.
The design is intricate, but it seems easy enough to draw.
Granuail and I head towards the gardens, and I raise my face to the sun as soon as we step outside.
The air is brisk, but the sun warms my skin, and I groan gratefully.
Others meander throughout the gardens slowly; some arm in arm. Mumbling conversation travels across the gentle breeze.
I kick off my shoes, reaching down to pick them up before wiggling my toes in the grass. The aches from sitting far too long seep away, and I turn to take Granuail’s arm once again.
“It’s so nice today.” I say, looking up at the scattered clouds.
Granuail hums her agreement, pointing to a bench near the fountain at the middle of the garden. “Sit me there, child.”
I walk her to the bench and help her into a seated position.
She groans and settles, waving her hand at me. “You go on ahead. I’m going to sit here for a while.”
I giggle, shaking my head.
Turning, I walk towards the other side of the courtyard, nodding at people as I pass.
Goosebumps raise along my skin as I run my bare feet along the grass. I sit, spreading my skirts around me before laying back against the gentle slope of the ground.
The sun felt so warm, and I yawn.
My mind begins to wander as I watch the clouds move slowly by.
If I can sneak away from Granuail long enough to grab what I need, I can be gone long before anyone knows I’m missing.
I knew I would have to make my way to the crossroads tonight, based on the moon.
Tomorrow will be too late.
Elora
“Hey sleepy head.”
A voice startles me awake, and I jump, my heart thudding in my chest.
My eyes pop open, and I shield my eyes from the sun to see someone standing over me.
Olam moves to block the sun so I can see his face, and I drop my arm, sighing.
He sits next to me, stretching one leg out in front of him and pulling the other up against his chest. Reaching down, he pulls a few blades of grass from the ground, fiddling with them.
The quiet lingers between us for a few moments.
“How are you?” I ask.
I know it’s an empty question.
I know how he is.
Olam shrugs, looking off into the distance.
“Ziterra is inconsolable.” The words come out low, his shoulders slumping. His head falls between them for a moment before he glances up at me.
“I have gone over it and over it in my head. I don’t know how to keep this from happening, Elora.”
I pull my lip between my teeth, looking over at him to meet his gaze. The defeat there breaks my heart.
I fight the urge to tell him I found a way.
If I did Olam would be gone.
He would wait for Amon at the crossroads.
Ziterra needed him. Their son needed a father.
I look back up to the sky, noticing the darker hue as the sun begins to dip towards the mountains.
“I wish I had comforting words for you brother.” I say softly.
Olam doesn’t respond, but he reaches for my hand, squeezing gently.
I squeeze back, watching as he stands to walk away slowly, his hands in his pockets.
My heart shatters into a million pieces.
More than ever my mind was made up.
I will be trading places with my nephew this night.