There was no mistaking the mystifying aura of Sonnenflamme. It stood proudly by its owner; its ornate axe head was accompanied by a hook resembling the tail of a hummingbird. The spear tip stopped shorter than most halberds, taking the form of a soaring wing.
Evelyn stood before a great crevasse, breath steaming in front of her. She was kept warm by a red gambeson. Black patches had been sewn in as the piece endured each battle. Gold-lined gauntlets adorned her wrists, and a matching pair of greaves accompanied them. She stood a hair's breadth away from the edge of the abyss, eyes closed as sunlit hair flowed in the frigid breeze like feathers fluttering out of an empty nest.
“Lady Evelyn!” Ziva shouted, panting as she climbed halfway up a steep slope, “Come quickly! It’s urgent!”
Evelyn was pulled from bittersweet ruminations, the abruptness akin to holding a child’s hand only for them to pull away sharply. She inhaled, sighed deeply, and turned to see what Ziva had found.
Silent sapphires peered down a steep decline. A body lay half-buried in soft powder. Snow melted on his tunic like crystalline butterflies landing for the last time. His walnut hair shimmered with a light brown in just the right light. Intense shivering wracked his body, his breaths cut down the moment they took root in his lungs.
Ziva slid back down, kneeling beside the boy. She scooped snow away from his arms and legs. Evelyn felt her chest shudder.
Another boy lost to the mountain. She thought.
“He’s alive.” Ziva held her ear to the boy’s chest. His tunic was soaked, “Barely breathing.”
Surprise glimmered across Evelyn’s face, followed by a wash of relief. She leaned her halberd against a tree, sliding down the steep grade with her heels. Ziva dug through blood-soaked ice, scooping it off the boy’s limbs. His hands had turned red. One of his legs was bent higher than the other. Evelyn unbuttoned her gambeson, shuddering as the cold ran into her linen shirt. The warmth slowly crept out of her arms as though the very earth was willing it from her. She tapped into a will of her own, restoring warmth to her pale skin.
Evelyn touched the boy’s blood-soaked cheek. He leaned in on instinct, lured by the warmth of her hand. He smelled of smoke, but there was no sign of a fire anywhere. She wrapped the gambeson around the boy, tucking his arms into the fur-coated interior. Roy groaned as her hand grazed the slash on his back. He could feel his flayed skin shift.
Piercing eyes of emerald rust were set methodically in a light sienna face. Brown flecks danced across soft cheeks. The boy’s gaze met Evelyn’s, unable to fathom the wintery world around them. Evelyn’s lips parted, but she halted her tongue the moment it pressed against the back of her teeth. A name came to her, and for a moment she was no longer puppeteered by sheer instinct. She tried to check the boy’s belongings. He had very little. Every time her fingers grazed his cold, bloodied skin it upset her deeply. He didn’t even react.
Evelyn’s concerned expression intensified, her face drawing closer as she unfastened her scarf to cover his head.
It was expected that the mountain would try to sap his heat away, but the boy sank into the snow like a hot stone. Evelyn pulled his shoulders onto her knees. His head fell limply against her stomach, his lips mouthing words that made little sense.
“There’s no one else out here.” Ziva said as she checked the boy’s injuries. Cuts and scrapes covered his face and neck. There were gashes in groups of three on each arm. Evelyn inspected the boy’s hands. A long cut lined up with the middle joints on each finger. Soot mixed with blood sat in the crevices of his palm.
“I can warm him.” Evelyn sighed, “But he’ll get feeling back.”
“Do it.” Ziva puffed out steamy air, “Better he be in pain than dead.”
Evelyn’s eyes dimmed, but she knew Ziva was right. She closed her eyes, inhaling the bitter air. Her breath steamed, vanishing as the snow around her melted away. Ziva could feel a light warmth radiating from her like a campfire. Roy stirred, startled as warmth resonated inside the gambeson. It was like being dropped into a warm bath. He groaned weakly as feeling returned to his limbs. Pins and needles cascaded down his limbs like marbles rolling down stairs. As pain returned Evelyn could hear small pained whimpers ebbing from the boy’s mouth. She reached for the boy’s hand, gripping it softly. The boy’s palm fidgeted, his fingers shaking from the pain.
There was an unmistakable scent of citrus and muted pine. When Roy focused on it, his eyes grew heavy. Evelyn’s shoulders dropped as Roy’s breaths lengthened. The shivering slowed, but she could hear the pain in his throat.
“How long has he been out here?” Evelyn asked, slowly lifting the boy off the ground. She sat on her knees, resting the boy’s head on her thighs.
“I have no idea!” Ziva sighed, “We need to get him off the mountain.”
Evelyn leaned into the boy’s chest in an attempt to pick him up. Ziva watched her stumble and came to assist. They slowly returned to the path they walked moments before. Nestled at the edge was a carriage full of supplies. Barrels of mead accompanied sacks of wheat and rice.
Evelyn and Ziva carefully pulled the boy up the hill, their boots slipping in the ice. Once they reached the top Ziva checked on the boy. The two women rested Roy on the road as they cleared space from the wagon. Evelyn laid out the sacks in a row, and with Ziva’s help she hoisted the boy on top of them. The boy winced as his leg dragged against the wooden lip of the wagon. Ziva quickly picked it up as Evelyn leaped into the carriage and pulled him inside.
Evelyn returned to the tree by the path and took the shaft of her halberd, resting it on her right shoulder.
“It looks like he came from Ripen.” Ziva stared down the mountainside at a series of smokestacks. She climbed the side of the wagon, sitting at the reins.
“A local wouldn’t dress like this.” Evelyn argued, staring at the boy’s patchwork of clothing. It barely covered his arms. “Where’s his coat?”
“We need to get him to the fortress. Poor boy’s exhausted.” Ziva said, clicking at the horse. The sudden shift pulled a weak groan from the boy’s lips as the wagon slowly climbed the pass back to Kriedeberg Fortress.
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The fortress was dug into the treacherous mountainside, its tallest tower mirroring the height of the nearest peak. Not a touch of moss nor mold grew upon its stunning façade. Guards peeked over the battlements, noting the dragonguard crest on the carriage. Ziva sat on the bench, waving her hands at the guards.
“Open the gate! We have wounded!” Ziva yelled, her voice booming up the mountainside. A large drawbridge dropped to cover a crevasse bordering the Dragonguard’s sanctum. Evelyn looked up at the battlements as the wagon passed through the gate. Roy stirred as the shadow of the arch crept across his face.
“Where do you want him?” Ziva steered the wagon up a small incline.
“We’ll take him to my chambers.”
“Not the infirmary?” Ziva asked, confused. This wasn’t the normal course of action.
“No. I can keep a closer eye on him there.” Evelyn waved away the thought. Her face was pale like Edelweiss, her head regularly turning to the boy. She felt he would disappear if she didn’t keep her eyes on him. Members of Evelyn’s honor guard stood watch at the great hall. They spotted Ziva first, then Evelyn. They were moved into action by the sight of a snow sodden boy covered in blood. The moment the wagon halted the men approached the back of the wagon, the visors of their helmets craned up at Evelyn. The lady pointed at the great hall, commanding her men with a single gesture.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“Please, he needs help.” Evelyn said, “To my chambers.”
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Evelyn approached the great hall with urgency, stepping directly past the Dragonguard throne. She bounded up a flight of stairs on the right, and the men quickly followed suit. When she arrived in her quarters she pointed at the fireplace. Cinders erupted from her fingertips as a blast of heat caused a pile of logs to burst into flame.
A lump had formed on Evelyn’s bed, rising and falling intermittently. Evelyn pulled the blanket back from her bed, revealing a gargantuan creature slumbering beneath them.
“Groß.” She called, but the beast grunted, snorting as its head raised onto the pillow. She reached for the beast’s neck, rubbing it until Groß’ massive head lifted. His tail wagged, moving the blanket like a napkin.
“Move!” She demanded, trying to push the pile of fur and drool onto the other side of the bed. Evelyn’s feet slid back against the wooden floor.
“Evelyn, why here?” Ziva’s brows furrowed.
“It’s warmer.” Evelyn pointed at the fur-covered portion of the bed. The guards carefully lowered the boy onto the bed. They looked to Evelyn, who dismissed them with brief thanks. Groß huffed as the boy was pushed towards him.
“Good boy.” Evelyn threw the thick blanket back over the creature’s body. Groß happily obliged, snorting loudly through his jowls.
Evelyn dove into a massive wooden chest. A purple dress with gold inlay was tossed like nothing as she dug towards the bottom of the chest. She pulled out a bag of medical supplies, tossing it next to the bed. Ziva failed to remove her shoes in the bedroom, tracking mud across the carpet as Evelyn stripped Roy bare and threw a blanket over him.
Ziva pressed her fingers into the boy’s neck. He recoiled, straying away from the cold of the woman’s hand. Ziva quickly inspected his wounds, trying not to expose the boy to the cold anymore. Speckled arms were torn open by massive claws, and his ankle was twisted and bruised. The palms of his hands were burned.
Ziva closed her eyes. She took a breath, then released as she willed the boy’s cuts closed. They slowly glued themselves shut. Rashes on the boy’s legs faded away. Thorns in his skin were spat out as the wound beneath healed.
A shivering whimper choked out of the boy’s mouth. Evelyn’s focus turned to him as his fingers gripped the bed. Ziva’s magic wouldn’t be causing pain. Once he thawed enough and concentration returned to his eyes, they started to fill with tears. With pain no longer at the forefront of his mind, his thoughts turned to the debilitating pain of loss.
“He’s waking up.” Evelyn watched Ziva close more wounds.
Ziva’s face grew pale as she tried to will every ounce of power she had. The deep gashes in the boy’s arms were particularly difficult to work with.
“Ziva.” Evelyn called, but the woman kept going. Her lips began to turn blue, “Ziva!”
Evelyn pulled the woman’s arms away. Ziva’s lips pinkened slowly. The color in her face bloomed once again, but the boy winced as the cut returned to its normal size. Ziva crept to a nearby chair, throwing herself down like a farmer after a long day in the fields.
Evelyn held the boy’s arm gently. She turned it to check for more cuts. She found teeth marks on his forearm, near the shoulder.
“Whatever it was, the bite is deep.” Evelyn inspected the holes where fangs penetrated the skin. A greasy film was laid on the boy’s skin, but the bite showed no irritation, “Two points of entry. Discharge around the wound, but not in the wound itself.”
“Odd.” Ziva panted.
“Claw marks in pairs of three.” Evelyn observed, “Rules out wolves. The puncture marks are deeper, too.”
“What about his hands?” Evelyn pointed, noting the soot, “Coaldrake?”
“No.” Ziva argued, “Coaldrakes woud’ve gored him. Most of these wounds are on arms and legs. They were immobilizing him.” Ziva pulled out a tiny bottle from her pocket. A tan powder rolled around like waves when she walked over to Evelyn.
“What’s that?” Evelyn asked as Ziva uncorked the vial. A strong earthy scent emanated from the lip as Ziva tapped a few grains onto her fingertip.
“Spyashta mrŭsotiya. Sleeping Dirt; A mushroom from Nizini.” Ziva said, “The boy will sleep. We can continue.”
Ziva held her finger to Roy’s nose, pressing the powder into his nostrils. The boy sniffed and recoiled. Ziva corked the vial, then stuffed it back into her dress as the boy fell into a deep slumber.
“I count three deep cuts, we can sew them up.” Ziva pulled a needle and thread from the medical kit. Evelyn blinked. She was distracted by the boy’s face. “Evelyn, we need honey for the dressing.”
“Yes, of course.” Evelyn nodded, then disappeared out the door.
Evelyn walked down the steps, veering off towards the kitchen. Her mind was so full of thoughts that her vision narrowed. Impossible thoughts raced in her head.
How did he survive out there? How did he stay warm? Evelyn thought to herself. She barely cleared a corner, her elbow striking the wall. Despite the surprised gasp of a servant, she didn’t react to the pain echoing up her arm.
There was more to the boy than the Bjornborn color of his eyes and hair. She recognized him. She couldn’t place it, but she wanted to hold him. The urge made her hands weak. He was hurting, and it made her sick. He was a hummingbird sitting in a flowerpot, wings splayed out but unmoving. Its stillness a sign of its suffering.
“Oh, Lady Evelyn.” A light, feminine voice called from the kitchen as a streak of blonde hair sped through, heading towards the herbs, “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” Evelyn sputtered, scanning the shelves for a jar she had reached for many times before. It was no longer there.
“Honey?” Evelyn asked, head darting left and right.
“Yours is in Khadina, I’m afraid.” The servant joked, but she quickly shifted to concern when Evelyn turned towards her, tears welled in her eyes. The servant’s jovial expression fell away. She jogged up to a shelf, pushing spices aside. A small brown jar fell into her hands, and she handed it to Evelyn with urgency.
“My lady, are you well?” She asked, but Evelyn darted out of the kitchen before she could answer.
Evelyn didn’t know she was running. The urgency was intense. She leaped up the stairs and back to the bed chamber. Ziva turned when she heard Evelyn’s boot slip on the carpet, sliding out from under her. She caught herself before she could topple over. She placed the honey on the nightstand. Ziva had already begun pulling the boy’s flesh back together. Her years of practice made wound stitching as simple as breathing. A glimpse of Evelyn told her that the woman was beginning to feel faint. She panted, eyes unmoving from the boy’s face. Ziva pulled the jar out from her fingers. They were rigid.
“Evelyn?” Ziva called for the second time. The lady inhaled. Her eyes focused on Ziva reluctantly, “You need to sit down.”
“I’m fine.”
“No.” Ziva shook her head, “You’re pale. Sit.”
“Is he going to be okay?” Evelyn shuffled, unable to sit still.
“It’s too early to know for certain.” Ziva said, “I’ll do everything I can.”
Evelyn sat with Ziva for hours. She hardly noticed as the gray daylight shifted into night. The boy’s pained groans lessened. He shook less from the cold and more from pain. Ziva stood up, stretching her back.
“That’s all we can do for now. We’ll let him rest as long as he needs to.” Ziva looked to Evelyn. The same stare from hours before still dominated her round face. It was pretty clear to Ziva what she was thinking about.
“What are we going to do with him?” Ziva asked. When she didn’t get an answer, she called to the woman, “Evelyn-“
“We figure out what happened.” Evelyn interrupted unintentionally, “He was attacked, that’s clear. But the soot on his hands…” Evelyn bolted up, standing still as her eyes were awash in blues and blacks. She blinked the dizziness away, “His mouth, we need to check his-”
“His mouth?” Ziva questioned, “Sit down, Evelyn!”
“Trust me.” Evelyn sat as Ziva’s maternal voice commanded her, “The boy reeks of smoke, there’s soot and blood on his hands.” Evelyn tried gripping with the realization as it came to her. The words didn’t feel real, “Check his mouth. Please.”
Ziva nodded despite her reservations. She reached for the boy’s mouth, carefully pulling his lip downwards. She inspected the small crevices where his teeth met. There wasn’t a single scrap of food in his gums. Instead, there were remnants of a black substance stuck onto his teeth. Ziva looked at her finger after touching it. It looked like she had touched a charred piece of wood that sat out in the rain.
“It’s like your magic… snaps. Like a rope held taught that’s cut suddenly.” Evelyn put a hand at the center of her chest, “It gets caught up in you.”
“This is in his lungs?” Ziva held up the soot-soaked finger. Evelyn nodded regretfully. Her head darted around the shelves. She stepped towards her nightstand, pulling open a small drawer.
“Keep him here.” Evelyn said, readjusting the boy’s body. She lifted his head, propping it up with pillows, “I’ll watch him. I know what to look for.”
The boy’s pained expression faltered, and his breaths deepened.
“I’ll see if Miruska can relieve you tonight.” Ziva said, “You can’t watch him forever.”
Evelyn was reluctant. She couldn’t watch him forever, but she would try.