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Sorin stayed by her side the entire night. When she passed out, he had rushed to find Mavka, trusting the dweller to use her herbal magic to bring Shaye back to consciousness. Mavka assured him that Shaye would be fine, that it had only been what looked like an attack of the nerves. Shaye had fainted, and he felt sick to his stomach knowing that he had been the cause of it. Maybe he had made a mistake telling her, dredging up old memories.
He knew how Shaye struggled in the night. Throughout their journey, she had often called out for someone to help her, waking with sobs. Although she had done her best to hide her trembling hands and quick, shallow breaths, he had seen the signs. He had seen the symptoms before, in men home from battle. That sort of trauma never leaves you; your mind and your body will not let it. Preventing you from forgetting, from letting your guard down.
The truth had felt so important to him that he had not considered what it might drudge up. He set down the book he was reading and moved his chair closer to her bedside. Too afraid to move her, he had tucked her into his own bed. He pulled the blankets over her, tucking them in gently around her. Mavka had left around midnight, but he had stayed by her side all night, drifting off to sleep occasionally, in an oversized gaudy green chair. He had awoken this morning at dawn and decided to pick up The Final Judgment, once more.
It struck him as odd how closely he related to the brothers from the story. He could relate to being thrown into this new world but still haunted by the memory of the old. Their forefathers had destroyed their home in battle, forcing the brothers to pick up the pieces. They had been angry, hurt, and hopeless, looking for a way to right the wrongs of the past and start a new life. They had been given a second chance to do better, be better. The relics had been gifts and a test of their worthiness to live in peace here in Asterion. Something he now faced in a different sort of way.
Maybe his test was not that of setting things back to the way they were, though. The Nefari were the real threat here, not the broken relic. If he could seek out the Nefari and stop them from whatever they had planned, then maybe there would be no need to put the Stave back together at all.
He was King now, with the ability to choose who was granted power and favor. With Shaye’s help, he could keep history from repeating itself with the Magi. It was a dreamer's way of thinking, he knew. But if the Magi could find a way to follow rules and regulations the way the Guilds did...
“Sorin?” Shaye sat up, her hair such a disheveled mess that he had to suppress a smirk.
“You had us scared there for a minute.” He dared to put a hand to her cheek, caressing it lightly.
“I’m so sorry, it feels like it was all a dream.” She grabbed her head in pain and Sorin hurried to hand her some water. She drank deeply and went on, “The last thing I remember clearly is sitting beside Bastian. We were reminiscing about the day we met.” She groaned in pain, “I’m sorry, my head is just pounding.”
“I’m so sorry, Shaye.”
“There is nothing for you to apologize for. It’s been a long few days and I just needed some rest, that’s all.”
He studied her face for a moment. “I’ll fetch Mavka to help you with that headache and get you something to eat.”
“Could you send for Bastian as well?”
Sorin nodded hesitantly and left to find Mavka first. Nightmares and panic attacks were one thing, but memory loss was another. What if her coming back here, coming face-to-face with someone from her childhood, and the stress of the day, had stirred up more than they realized?
Mavka wasn’t in her room, so he ventured to the kitchens in search of her. When he walked into the deep stone room, he was surprised to find Bastian there sharing a cup of tea with the Forest Dweller. They were laughing as he tried to explain to her that spoons were used for scooping and stirring food, not for making music.
Mavka had never been around humans and had never seen their inventions. For as long as she had lived, which Sorin gathered had been quite long, she had never been able to interact with the human world like this. It gave her a child-like fascination and obsession to learn more about the wonders it had to offer. He looked forward to inviting her back to Aramoor like they had talked about, when all of this was over, to explore the city with Shaye and the others. If Shaye chose to stay, that is.
Sorin cleared his throat to let them know he was there. Mavka leapt up from her chair, “How is she?”
“Awake but foggy. Would you mind taking her something to help with a headache?”
“I know just the thing!” She jumped up, tossed some strange-looking flowers into a teacup, and skipped from the room.
“Thank The Mother she’s okay.” Bastian set his tea down gently.
“Mavka filled you in?”
“She did. You know, Shaye has always been prone to bad nerves. It’s not surprising that they’ve grown worse over the years.” He leaned back in his seat as Sorin took up the chair across from him. “I mean, losing her parents so young, being subjected to the rigorous training from the Master Mages... and just as she was finally giving this place a chance, she was torn away from it. Forced to start over, alone again.”
Sorin thought he heard a hint of pleasure when Bastian spoke of Shaye’s misfortune. He brushed away the thought, blaming it on jealousy. Bastian took his cup to the sink and headed for the door. “I’ll go check in on her, see if there’s anything I can do to help.”
Sorin sat at the small table for a while, contemplating Bastian and his interest in Shaye. Of course, there was a connection there. Shaye and Bastian were a big part of each other's pasts, but they weren’t kids anymore. They had been apart for years and that was a lifetime of change; they had grown up, and Sorin could hardly assume she, or Bastian, were the same people after all this time. Especially after all that they had been through and witnessed.
Not to mention the timing and coincidence of Bastian showing up like this. Last night when Shaye had assured Sorin that she trusted Bastian, he had wanted to believe her. He needed her to know that he trusted her judgment and that her opinion mattered to him. What troubled Sorin now was that she had been fine when she had left him after dinner.
Now she was claiming that she could remember nothing past her talk with Bastian. Was the stress getting to her? There was no indication that something was wrong when she came to him. Whatever was affecting Shaye, it was bad. Maybe Ingemar will have some ideas.
Sorin walked through the palace gardens. The flowers that had once been beautiful were now overgrown and dead, a shadow of their former beauty. He could remember how meticulously kept these gardens were on the night of the Winter Solstice. The first signs of snow had been dusted from the shrubs and trees that had been sculpted into the shapes of magical creatures. Now they stood before him, bare and dying. Even the marble statues that once stood proud and bold were chipped and discolored. It was a tragedy in and of itself.
Sorin continued down to Brenmar Lake where Ingemar had been spending her spare time. She sat on a smooth flat rock, her tail was shining in the sunlight, in place of where her legs had been. She looked peaceful, swishing the golden scales around in the cool, clear water. Bron and Anik were nearby, hunting for small game. They were not sure how much longer they would be residing here in the Winter Palace; he had not decided yet. So, in the meantime, his friends did their best to prepare and make nights feel safe and comfortable. They all needed to find comfort wherever they could get it, he supposed.
“Ingemar. I’m sorry to intrude, but I was hoping we could talk.”
Her dark skin glowed under the bright spring light, partially covered in the same beautiful scales that made up her tail. “Of course, young King.” She gestured for him to join her.
Sorin removed his boots, rolling up his breeches, so he could dip his feet into the lake with her. “It’s about Bastian.”
“Ah, the young Magi, with the curious ability to appear from thin air.” She raised a dark eyebrow. “You do not trust him?”
“No. I do not.” He peered across the lake, wishing it could give him some answers. “Am I using my better judgment here or am I letting my feelings for...” He trailed off, looking back at the Ceasg.
“Your ‘feelings for Shaye,’ you were going to say.” A brilliant smile flashed across her face. “We see things. My people have a connection to the water, and the water never forgets. Its memory spans to the beginning of creation. And one thing the water has always taught me is life for life. The world is about balance. We see it in nature, in the circle of life. In the world of magic, to receive you must give, whether it be thanks, energy, or blood.
“Humans hold the same balance; for example, we have you and Shaye. Amid chaos, you made a choice to save a girl who had been alone in her life for so long, who had been left undefended. Maybe it was fate, maybe it had been The Mother herself who had urged you to save her. But the moment you did, your lives were connected. You became responsible for the life you had saved. Perhaps that force is what brought the two of you back together.” She splashed a bit in the water, continuing while Sorin sat in thoughtful silence.
“Sorin, I know you can feel it deep in your bones. Whatever it may be, the water assures me that the two of you have a destiny far greater than that of any childhood crush. I cannot say whether Bastian is a threat, but I can tell you to tread lightly. There is something keeping him in the dark. So that I and the water cannot even see how he came to be here with us.”
It was a lot to process. He had never told anyone about that night. Last night, alone with Shaye, had been the first time he had ever spoken of it out loud. He had been so focused on the mission at hand that he had not allowed himself to consider the coincidence that Shaye, of all people in this world, was the last of the Druid bloodline in Asterion record. That she was the one his mother and council had assured him was their only hope.
Perhaps magic had been so absent from his life, he had not really believed that the land itself held its own ancient magic, stronger than any relic his father could possess. That The Mother and the Fates existed beyond their prayers. And that they had plans for him and Shaye.
“Sorin!” Bron shouted at him from across the Lake. He held up a fat rabbit and grinned ear-to-ear. The child-like glee on the Mortal Knight’s face looked ridiculous when he was practically a giant. He towered over Anik, who stood beside him waving at Ingemar. She waved politely back and pulled her tail from the water. Sorin watched in amazement as the transformation took place before his eyes. Scales slowly disappeared as two legs formed in place of the fin.
“I’ll never get used to that.” He stood, extending his hand to help her up. She took it, rearranging her nearly sheer gown neatly around her legs. They walked back to the palace together in silence. There was something unspoken between them now. For all the uncertainty of what was still to come, it was comforting to know that he had a band of people, and creatures, that he could rely on. That he could call “friends.”