Odal left to talk with the men who had moved Dagger’s body, leaving As’rya in Iridia’s care. She was almost a full head taller than the princess, her long white hair tied in a single braid down her back. Her silver eyes looked over As’rya and even though she knew she should feel self-conscious, she was much too exhausted to care.
“Please follow me,” Iridia said politely, no hostility or fear in her tone. As’rya followed dutifully, her feet dragging as they would through the cavernous hallways. The halls were clean but plain, the rough stone floors unadorned. Cloth drapings covered what seemed to be doorways carved from the walkway. After several turns that led to more identical looking stone paths and countless more rooms, she was sure she would never find her way out on her own.
‘I’m not even sure how they can find their way around,’ she thought to herself as Iridia expertly turned another corner, heading into the first room on the right. Instead of a cloth, the doorway was strung with draped jewels, glass beads, bones, and bells. As Iridia and As’rya entered, it jingled musically as though to announce their arrival.
“Ro’ani?” Iridia called out loudly, stepping carefully into the cluttered room. As As’rya followed her behind, she realized why the girl was shouting.
The small room was crammed with pots, baskets, jars, and piles of herbs. The air reeked of medicinal plants, the ground dusted with a layer of finely crushed leaves. The walls held hundreds of tied bundles of assorted flowers and leaves, and things were stacked above Iridia’s head height, the whole room looking like a haphazard maze.
“Ro’ani!” Iridia shouted again, tiptoeing carefully around a few piles.
“What do you want?” a raspy voice called back in irritation from the middle of the room. “I’m busy here!”
“We have a guest,” Iridia called back pleasantly, stepping lightly around a pile of glass jars. Following behind slowly, As’rya struggled not to knock over an overly large basket of feathers. Ducking under a large cupboard, the pair finally entered the clearing in the middle, the only somewhat tidy space in the room. An older woman sat hunched over a large cluttered table, face nearly touching the herbs she was examining. “We have an unexpected guest.”
Ro’ani finally looked up, her silver eyes meeting As’rya’s. Lines creased her face, but not so many that one would call her old. Her gaze was cunning and sharp, picking apart As’rya in a way that felt invasive.
“So I see,” she retorted, looking the girl up and down. The princess fidgeted under the scrutiny. A moment later, Ro’ani looked over to Iridia. “So why did you bring her to me?”
“Odal has stated she is a prisoner until her intentions are uncovered by Mia and Elder Hano,” Iridia informed her, hands clasped in front of her. “She also has requested the dead body of her comrade be brought to her.”
As’rya flushed at the overly honest words that painted her in a strange light but said nothing. It would be worse if she tried to explain that he’d come back to life.
“Oh, great,” Ro’ani grumbled, but her eyes looked intrigued instead of annoyed. “When will Hano be seeing her?”
“After she has recovered,” Iridia replied, gesturing to As’rya’s bloodied sleeve. “She was in battle and the extent of her wounds isn’t known.”
“Alright,” the woman replied, waving her hand towards Iridia. “Thanks, Dia. I’ve got it from here.”
Nodding slightly to both Ro’ani and me, Iridia left without another word, her steps quickly receding down the stone halls.
Watching her go, As’rya leaned against the desk slightly, her eyes drooping. Her body was screaming at her to lay down but she resisted.
“Just give me a minute,” Ro’ani said raspily, turning and rifling through several boxes and jars behind her. Pulling items out and tucking them under her arm, she finally nodded to herself before turning to As’rya.
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“Come on,” she barked, turning without waiting for a reply. “Follow me this way.”
As’rya trailed behind, following her behind another curtained doorway. This one had a bed to the side, along with a small table next to it. The room was dark except for the light filtering in from behind them.
“Lay down on the bed,” Ro’ani directed, putting her many gathered items on the table.
As’rya hesitated, but it looked inviting and she listened, kicking off her muddy boots before laying back on the comfortable fur blanket. Almost immediately her eyes began to close and she struggled to stay awake.
“You can’t fall asleep yet,” Ro’ani’s voice snapped her back, her eyes opening a bit.
“Where are you hurt?” the woman continued as she added herbs to a bowl, beginning to grind them up. “And what happened to you?”
As’rya bit back a sigh. She didn’t want to remember what had happened.
“We’ve been trying to travel to the Kingdom of Lysima,” As’rya told her. “We were attacked by assassins, twice.” Lifting the bloodied sleeve, she added, “I have a gash on this arm but other than that, I have no injuries.” Biting her lip, she closed her eyes.
“Dagger kept me safe.”
Even as she said it, she remembered the savage look in his eyes. The inhuman snarl, the way he had approached as though she were a deer to slaughter. A cold chill ran down her spine.
“I take it he’s the corpse that they’re going to be dumping in my room?” Ro’ani narrowed her eyes, looking over at her. As’rya nodded, not explaining any further.
“There’s a lot of questions I have,” Ro’ani told her, setting down the bowl and turning to the girl. “But my job isn’t to ask them. My job is to fix you up so you can go explain whatever is going on to Hano.”
As’rya felt relieved that she wouldn’t be interrogated here.
“Take off your coat and shirt and eat this,” the woman told her brusquely, gesturing to the bowl. “Once I’m done examining you and wrapping your arm, you can get some rest.” As’rya obeyed, pulling off the dirty and damp coat and the long sleeved shirt underneath. Once she grabbed the bowl she paused, her nose crinkling. Ugh, it smelled like the concoction Dagger had given her…
“Umm,” As’rya paused, looking up to Ro’ani’s stern expression. “May I know what’s in this…mix?”
With a snort, the woman rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “I’ll tell ya, but you still won’t know. It’s a pulp of Alto leaves, berrock root and quoerta fruit, with some added snowberries for taste.”
As’rya blinked, before lowering her head. None of those were herbs or foods she’d ever heard of, except for the snowberries. She would just have to accept that it would be good for her, despite the fact that the smell made her already queasy stomach turn.
“Alright,” As’rya took a breath, scooping the mixture into her mouth quickly. Despite the smell, the taste wasn’t as unpleasant as she’d expected. In fact, as she swallowed the mixture, she felt it warm her, like a warm bowl of soup, and felt herself grow unexpectedly drowsy.
“You just rest,” Ro’ani’s voice faded as As’rya felt her consciousness rapidly recede. In a matter of seconds, she fell into a black, dreamless sleep.
*****
A knight in golden armor approached a closed door, the torches lining the walls dark and cold. He knocked gently on the wood with two knuckles, pausing only a moment, before entering the room silently. His white hair was damp enough to leave droplets on his forehead but he seemed unbothered, bowing low as he entered the dark room.
A lone candle flickered, casting eerie shadows on the walls as well as a person hunched over a table. The large desk was covered in books, maps, and parchment rolls and took up most of the small room. Only the sound of papers rustling disturbed the silence and the knight patiently waited to be addressed.
“So? How did it go?” asked the figure after several moments. The man pulled out the jeweled athame from his belt, handing it over to her. She accepted it, cradling the weapon gently, fingers caressing the gems embedded in the hilt.
“I succeeded,” he told her, “But I will be unable to follow them until they reach Lysima.”
“Oh? And why is that?” her voice hardened with anger, her fingers clutching the sheathed blade. The man casually brushed a stray droplet from his lashes and replied, “The Himel Tribe have taken them in.”
“Ahh,” she said, letting out a sigh and leaning back against the table, turning to face the knight fully. “Well, then, it can’t be helped, I suppose.” Twirling the athame, she smiled, any trace of anger gone.
“I suppose this will be a good learning experience for our little As’rya, won’t it? She might even finish opening up her magic,” she mused, eyes narrowing.
“But…”
Her expression turned to a scowl and she hurled the sheathed athame in anger. It lodged itself in the far wall up to the hilt.
“I won’t be able to know if it worked!” she hissed, glaring at the knight. Despite her rapidly shifting mood, he was unperturbed, merely watching her, eyes passive. “Zelid, what do you think? Do you think it worked? How did he seem?”
Zelid cocked his head slightly, thinking back to the fight.
“I don’t think it worked,” he told her apathetically. “And when I killed him, he was under the influence of the Dragon.”
Cursing and clenching her hands, she struck out at the knight, slamming the side of her fist into his chest. Despite the blow denting the armor, the man seemed unaffected as usual, barely moved by the blow. He opened his mouth to finish his sentence.
“I do think he died faster this time,” he told her, “So the poison worked partially.”
“Oh, great!” she spat out, brow furrowing in rage. “He died faster, but he’s still going to come back. It seems that we are no closer to solving our problems.”
Turning her back on the knight, she flung her arm towards him in a dismissive gesture.
“Get out! I need to work.”
The man didn’t reply, simply turning on his heel and leaving the room. The door shut with a gentle click, leaving the woman inside muttering as she parsed over ancient texts and magic scrolls.