Raum | 17 Planting, 1723 CE

Aibel poked at the fire, lost in some thought that Raum couldn’t begin to guess at. She came up behind him, a thick blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She could see the remnants of her breath as a cloud of fog in the air before her.

“You seem disquieted. I’d have thought you’d like the silence this time of night.”

She sat down beside the fire a few feet to Aibel’s right. She was far enough away that she could see his face entirely, only partially obscured by angle, but not so far away that the light of the blazing fire came between them. She pulled her legs in tighter to her body, and wrapped her arms around them for additional warmth.

Aibel grunted at her sudden intrusion into his mind.

“It’s too quiet this time of year. Not enough insects out.”

She gave him a quizzical look. It was an odd response, she thought. For a man so consumed by his craft, she would have thought the silence would make his role as watchman easier. But she threw on a small grin and continued. It was rare to catch him in a position to talk.

“I never much cared for night bugs. Back in my village…”

There was a momentary pause as a lump formed in her throat. It was still raw to speak about the memories of that night so many weeks ago.

“We used to get moss beetles. They’re persistent little things. They’d get into our bedding, looking for a burrow, and realize too late that it wasn’t cool enough under there. When they tried to escape from under the covers, they’d let out this awful buzzing sound that made it impossible to get any sleep.” She chuckled sadly at the memory. “I miss home.”

She watched him carefully, taking in the lines of his face. He didn’t look back at her, but she could tell by his pinched cheek muscles that he was aware of her eyes on him. She wished he would look up; take notice of her. Something about him invited intrigue. There was something about his presence that drew her in, even in spite of the pricky facade he tried to wear. She sensed that there was much more to him as a person than her tried to let on. Nonetheless, he did not look up, continuing instead to gaze into the red and yellow flames. After a moment, she wondered if he forgot she was there.

“What are you thinking about,” she asked after a pause.

“Nothing to concern yourself with.”

“Why do you do that?” She was a little surprised at her own reaction. “You can let people in, you know. It might help you work through whatever has clearly got you wrapped around yourself.”

Another long silence passed. This time, it didn’t feel like being ignored. There was a weight to the silence. She watched as his face changed expressions ever so subtly. His teeth ground against each other slowly, methodically, His eyes narrowed, then relaxed, and narrowed again. She could swears she even saw him bite at the inside of his lip.

“I’m thinking about my wife.”

Even more unexpected was the knot in her stomach. When the word was spoken, she felt her skin go cold, and an anxious flutter coursed through her heart. The intensity of the feeling was surprising.

“Oh! I didn’t know you were married.”

“I’m not.”

“I don’t understand. 

“She died.”

He looked up, locking eyes with her. The expression of pain and anger that burned behind them was unsettling, but quickly the pain won over, and she could see his brows soften. The intensity remained, but his demeanor softened a little.

It was the first time she had ever seen him spark this kind of emotion in her presence, aside from his typical expression of annoyance and condescension. There was a glimmer of a tear forming along the bottom of his lids as he turned back to face the glowing of the campfire. 

Her voice softened, feeling his sadness in her own body. She felt guilty for the feeling of relief that welled in her chest, and uncomfortable at the tension she had created.

“What was her name?”

He poked at the flames again, his lower jaw moving in large motions, obviously holding back a whimper of his lower lip. Without moving his head, his eyes locked with her again. There was a faint whisper of suspicious anger in them, but not nearly as intense as before.

“Elincia.”

His gaze held for a few seconds before they resumed their stare at the flames.

“What happened?”

“Why do you care? I’m nothing to you; just a bodyguard on the road.”

“I care about you.” She felt the redness in her cheeks instantly, “I…I mean, you’re risking your life for me, even after what happened when we met. You try to shut everyone out, and pretend like it’s nothing more than another job. I just wonder if whatever happened to you before is why you can’t open up to anyone now. Can’t you have one person who knows you?”

Aibel laughed aloud. It caught Raum off guard enough that she flinched a little when it erupted.

“You don’t want to know me,” he said. “There’s nothing here but regrets and fury.”

He stood up, tossing the small stick into the fire.

“I’m going to walk around. Get back to sleep. We have another long day tomorrow.”

With that, he grabbed his glaive and moved silently into the surrounding woods. Raum sat there, warming herself by the flames. But despite the warmth, the coldness of the conversation’s end chilled her.

“But I do want to know you,” she whispered.

Sitting there, thinking of the man behind the outward veil, she could feel her heart begin to race, even as the pit in her stomach grew over his defense. She could feel the layer of gooseflesh across her skin, thinking about him.

If only I could get into his head. If he would let me in… she thought.

There was a part of her that hoped he would return from the shadows, throw down his weapon and hold her close by the fire. The very thought twisted her insides with excitement and disappointment. Others couldn’t see what she did; the soul inside the man.

There was pain in him, hiding behind the coarseness; grief and loss masquerading as rage. He was a good man, otherwise he wouldn’t be here with them now. He’d had plenty of opportunities to slit her throat, or leave the group in the wilds. She wanted to be the one to tear the armor off his heart; to stare into his soul. She hadn’t been able to articulate it until that moment, but she wanted to pour her heart into him, and him into her. A man so full of unchained grief, was also one to sustain unlimited love. That was what she wanted to share with him. He was capable. She believed that. If only he would let himself.

It’s strange, she thought, to feel this for someone who had advocated ending her life.

But it wasn’t personal. Even she knew that. It was the reaction of any reasonable person alive on the Continent. And yet, here they were, in the wilds of the world, together as part of a unit. She knew it wasn’t her that he had cause to hate, but rather the potential that she represented. She could understand that, at least

“You know that he can’t give you what you want.”

Raum nearly fell over. The woman’s voice was not hers. It wasn’t even a voice that she recognized. And it seemed to speak to her from inside her, around her, and through her simultaneously. It was ethereal, hollow almost. It was like the hiss of a pit viper set to words.

“He is too broken. He is untamed. Violent. He will never accept you as a woman; as an object of seduction or of romance. But I can help you. I can help you get him. He can be yours. You simply need to let me in, child”

Raum was kneeling in the dirt, panic overtaking her. No matter where she turned, the voice was always right beside her, and in her.

“Who are you?”

“I am a friend; and ally. I am the one who can grant you your heart’s desires if you help grant me, mine.”

“No! I don’t want anything from you. Get out of my head.”

Raum was flattened by a wave of psychic energy. Visions inserted themself into her mind. She saw herself and Aibel by a beautiful lake, surrounded by pink blossoms. He bent down, with a ring in his hand. The next image was of them both nestled under a thick hide in front of a roaring fire, naked and sweaty from their passion. She could smell the sweat of their bodies, and the glow of her own skin. It was intoxicating. Another showed her a house, settled on the edge of a small grove. She was dressed in a flowing summer dress, a newborn in her arms, watching Aibel coming home with a brace of rabbits and a wild turkey.

“It can be yours, my child. Let me help you. You are so beautiful. So pure. You deserve a prince who will give you everything.”

Raum screamed into the darkness.

“Aibel!  Aibel!  Help me!”

“Why do you call out to him, little demon? Without my intervention, he will betray you. In the end moments, you will see him raise his weapon, and witness him strike you down. You will die slowly, drowning in your own blood. I can prevent that! I can make him yours. Unconditionally yours. Imagine that.”

“Aibel! Whisper! Someone!”

“Silence your screaming. If you don’t I’ll have to punish you.”

“I can hear her! She’s inside my head!”

Another blast of power overtook her. As she attempted to rise on her hands and knees, the wave of power forced her muscles to go limp, and she collapsed back into the dirt. Without moving, she was flipped to her back, arms and legs outstretched as if in a rack. She felt the pull against her bones and muscles, and she cried out in pain. The sobs came freely.

“Help me!”

Whisper appeared a second later, throwing her arms around the girl’s shoulders. She hovered over Raum’s face. She was speaking, but there was no sound. It was as if the world had gone completely mute.

Aibel appeared next, seeming to fade in from the shadows. He half slid to her side in his rush, and grabbed the sides of her face, pulling it to look at his. She felt the cold of his fingers on her face, and the faint smell of steel and oil. Her panic must have been evident on her face, because Aibel’s expression was an image of pale worry.

A rising screech was building in her mind. It started small, like a woman’s scream, and escalated to an almost overwhelming white noise that could shatter glass. The pain began in the back of her mind and forced its way through every fold of her brain, through every muscle in her face, and through the center of her eyes like an icy razor. She wanted to lock eyes with him, but her vision faded out as the noise increased. She knew she was screaming by the pressure in her chest and the pain in her lungs, but no sound found its way in.

“It’s all in vain, their efforts to save you. You don’t need saving. You will be the harbinger of the second hallowing, my right hand. You will be a goddess among mortals when we are through.”

Aibel’s hand dropped away on her left cheek, as he reached into a pouch on his belt. When the hand reappeared, it was holding a banded iron medallion. She felt the sensation of it touch her skin, as the iron began to burn red hot. The combination of sensations was unbearable, and yet her body would not give out. She felt it all. Aibel was mouthing words quickly, maintaining a firm hand on her cheek, and pressing the burning amulet into her skin. Whisper held her hand tightly, the other on her shoulder, bracing her and attempting to reassure her.

“I will find you again, little one. I look forward to your service.”

Then the piercing tone ended, leaving a chorus of silence and panicked voices. Aibel’s gruff voice slowed, and she watch him open his eyes, bringing the medallion away from her skin.

Whisper repositioned herself into Raum’s eye line.

“Raum. Talk to us.”

“She was…she showed me…”

Raum could see Baodan and Lawbrin in the wings, both armed, standing guard and fixated simultaneously on her. Baodan was white as ivory, unbridled panic in his eyes.

Raum looked back into Aibel’s eyes, panic evident behind them still. “She showed me you.”

There was a sensation of liquid pooling from her nose and ears before her body relaxed. Blood dropped onto the fabric at her neck, and onto the cold soil. Then no sensation at all, except darkness.