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Remnants of the Dawn: The Complete Trilogy
Book 3 Chapter 16: The Quiet Storm

Book 3 Chapter 16: The Quiet Storm

XVI. THE QUIET STORM

  The fresh snow was awash in the golden glow cast by Aurum, full and dominating the night sky behind the cover of clouds. The streets were illuminated in the warm glow, leaving nary a shadow on the empty streets below the palace. Aichlan leaned against the observation window overlooking the hanging gardens and the wealthy Silver Chord district below. Behind him, the fire was more or less embers, with Taryn and Madden curled up under a quilt before it. The study was empty and silent save for the slumbering breaths of Taryn and Madden, as well as Alice, who was slumped fast asleep in a tall Windsor chair. Francis had left hours ago to have a late supper with the Rhodarcian woman again, he had become a man with a secret of late, and Aichlan was determined to find out what it was. What was most curious was how she and his father fit into it. He sighed and looked to Maleah, slouched in a chair as she cradled a drink and stared blankly into the night. Maleah only stirred to idly swirl her brandy as she regarded the scene before her with all the interest of the dead.

   Aichlan returned his gaze to the idyllic scene below. He rubbed his eyes and stifled a yawn, yet despite the late hour and drink, his mind was wide awake. He traced the envelope in his pocket with his finger, Duke Laurent had finally agreed to the initial terms of their expedition, but in typical fashion the Queen had stepped in and given an ultimatum in the terms of an impossible deadline. They remained silent for several moments, as they stared out into the brilliant night before them. Aichlan finally stirred as the chill from the fire's absence caused the furnace to sputter to life.

  “Perhaps you should get some rest Captain, you’re leaving tomorrow afternoon.” She remained silent, prompting Aichlan to continue “Go get some sleep Maleah, I’ll send one of the clerics to heal you in the morning.”

  He had since lost his nerve to address more pressing matters, but it was just as well, she didn’t seem to be willing to respond to anything. Aichlan sighed and plopped down into an adjacent chair. Maleah casually sipped her drink as she continued to stare out into the embers.

  “Maleah…”

  “I’ll be fine.” She replied with a curt wave of the hand and took another swallow.

  Aichlan leaned forward and buried his face in his hands, knowing what he must do, but dreading it all the same. His rebellious cavalier had not been herself ever since her brother attacked the city and kidnapped the former King. While everyone in the army leaned on the bottle a bit more than might be considered healthy, Maleah was different. She had taken to drinking heavily and often daily. Whenever Aichlan did see her, she was in a morose and melancholic mood the few instances when she had some semblance of sobriety. Other times she was found passed out on sofas and in bushes, and more than once face down in a puddle of her own sick.

  “Is everything alright?” he blurted, as he trained a concerned gaze on the near catatonic Maleah. “You don’t seem to be yourself of late.”

  “And how would you know how ‘myself’ truly is?” she replied coolly and without interest.

  “You know what I mean Maleah.” He shot back, in no mood for her sardonic defense mechanisms. “Why do you drink so much?”

  Maleah smirked and laughed to herself before she drained the last of her brandy. They sat in silence for several moments as Maleah unsteadily refilled her glass. She caught his intent gaze out of the corner of her eye and relented, pivoting in her seat so that she could face him.

  “You first.”

  She took another swig, and drained the glass in a single gulp. While exceptionally smooth, it was still 80-proof, and she had been drinking since she woke up. Aichlan turned his attention back to the garden as he contemplated a response. Several criss crossing paths from some small creature were left in the fresh snow. He hadn’t expected the conversation to so quickly shift focus to himself, and despite his irritation, her question was a valid one.

  “I’m not sure.”

  Maleah laughed again, a dry and venomous cackle, before she turned back to stare vacantly into the night “Then I drink because I am party girl.”

  “That’s not a real answer.”

  “Isn’t it?” She laughed grimly, giving Aichlan the impression the hate in her tone was directed inward more than anything. “Or would you prefer ‘me either’? At least I was being creative.”

  Aichlan abruptly stood and returned to his position leaning against the cold glass. The fire had ceased to even smolder and the distant rumbling of the furnace slowly coming to life brought warmth with it. For as long as he could remember, his drinking hadn’t caused him much of a problem, he had always been able to moderate himself. With the exception being the couple of times he went home to Westfaire and woke up in a gutter or to a scolding from a healer. He did drink often, and had found a comfortable ‘working drunk’, it wasn’t anywhere near as bad as Maleah had fallen. She drank herself sick and then drank more. On more than one occasion he saw her with the shakes and shivers alcoholics get when they’ve gone too long without. She was a mess; using the drink to escape reality. Aichlan, by comparison, was just using the drink to take the edge off or the stress would have killed him long before Osric got a chance.

  “It makes me more tolerable I suppose. In battle I’m in my element, things make sense and no matter what comes my way, I know I can deal with it. Force is usually the only answer anyway, so it’s all the more manageable. Outside of that arena however, I can be a wee bit insufferable. Quick to anger, easily frustrated, morbid. The things that once brought me joy rarely do anymore. I’ve become an addict, but to what, I don’t know. It’s like I’m only happy when my life is in danger, kind of fucked up masochist type shit, eh?”

  Bitterness had crept up in his tone, and his emotions threatened to get the best of him as he finished. Maleah poured another glass of brandy and held it out to him. Aichlan took it with a mumbled thanks and drained it in a single swig.

  “It makes more sense than you know…” Maleah said meekly and took a drink straight from the bottle.

  “I’ve driven many a friend away with my bullshit.” Aichlan continued, oblivious to Maleah’s response “My hands, my heart, my mind, my soul, all far too heavily soiled to return to the world of civilization and domestic frivolity. I’ve died and even heaven wanted naught to do with me!”

  Aichlan made a wide sweeping motion towards the room in general and the bar on the opposite side of them, Taryn snorted and turned over to nuzzle up against Madden on the sofa. “This? This is my life now, to hate what I’ve become and yet still fight like a cornered beast intent on saving its miserable hide.”

  He paused to take several deep breaths and leaned his forehead against the cold glass. “This is my life, and this will be my death. Booze is the crutch that allows me to glimpse who I once was, least till the Eloi take me or the Dusk Born claim my bones.”

  They remained in silence, each tick of the clock held an eternity, the chill air around them was thick with apprehension and the rumblings of coming storms in the form of suppressed emotions. Maleah stared into her reflection with glassy eyes, her freshly refilled cup like a lead weight in her hands.

  “I drink, to forget. What happened to my mother, the sacrifice she made and the horrors she endured before a likely slow death, the fact that she did it all for me…” She shook her head, spilling several creeping tears, and took a sip of her brandy “Séverin thought I’d blocked it out or didn’t remember, but I did it because it made him feel better. Or maybe it gave him hope, I don’t know. He was going to marry Nina, the grocer’s daughter, and run off to the city; but suddenly he found himself responsible for two children and his woman didn’t want the burden. So he got to share in my charade, only Osric didn’t buy it. He hated it.”

  She wiped her eyes on the back of her hand, smearing what remained of her mascara, and took another mechanical sip of brandy before continuing. “Osric was pissed because we denied what happened to mother, Séverin was pissed because his life was forcibly changed and he was stuck in that Light damned village. Where it gave Séverin focus, it filled Ozzy with bitterness. In a way this is all my fault, everything is, from our parent’s death to this war, I am at the root of it all.”

  Maleah turned to face Aichlan, her eyes were wet and her lips trembled. He was struck by how vulnerable she looked, something he’d not seen in her previously. Gone was her devil may care bravado, and in its place was a young woman forced to take on the roles of soldier and callous killer to survive. Aichlan looked away, he wouldn’t have been able to send her off into the wilds if he didn’t. Her prowess with the lance was not and never would come into question, but whereas one could look at someone like Garrick and see a warrior through and through, she was a civilian. Most of his army were civilians, and even if the war ended in their favor, they would never find a home again in the only world they’d ever known.

  Maleah lifted her glass, sloshing out much of the liquid on her hand as she offered a sarcastic toast. “That is why I drink General.”

  “There comes a time when you must lay down yer crutch an’ stand against tha demons it keeps at bay.” Aichlan mumbled, the effects of the drink and late hour slurred his words.

  Maleah tilted her head and narrowed her eyes at him. “That’s a hypocritical statement.”

  Aichlan forced himself to chuckle. “Aye, it is.”

  Maleah took another sip of her drink. “So your question is answered no? That’s the end of this awkwardness for the night?”

  Aichlan was silent for several moments; his eyes had become heavy in the dim light as he absently stared out into the night, his mind swimming drunkenly through a sea of questions. He rubbed his eyes and took a swig of brandy, the potency of the drink served to jolt him back awake somewhat.

  “Tell me about yer brother, Osric.”

  Maleah snorted. “Yes, the pariah this army hunts down to kill. Hell, I love him and I want him dead. My brother is crazy; there is nothing more to tell.”

  Aichlan watched her ruby eyes glisten as she tried in vain to blink the tears away. He set down his glass and stared at the empty armchair for several moments as his drunken mind attempted to recall how one utilized that particular piece of furniture. He slowly turned around and plopped himself down with a groan, partially due to the sudden impact, partially because the room had begun to spin around him. He planted his feet firmly on the ground and took several deep breaths to regain his equilibrium.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “You two were close, I take it?” He asked, more in an attempt to distract himself from the dizzy spell he was under.

  Maleah wiped her eyes on the back of her hand. “Close? My brother and I were nigh inseparable. When Séverin left to join the army, he made a point to return home on holiday from the academy often, even if it were only for a week and six of those days were dedicated to travel. He learned that little teleportation trick years before other apprentices could just so he could come home more often. He was always a moody and introverted bastard, but I adored him nonetheless.”

  She smiled, having become lost in the memories of better days. “Even if I did spend most of my time screwing with him.”

  Her voice broke as tears spilled from her eyes. Aichlan handed her a balled up linen napkin from the table, and she took it with muttered thanks.

  “What Osric and I had paled in comparison to his and Séverin’s. They were brothers, part of a secret club I could never get into. Even after Séverin returned and took on a more parental role, he and Osric were still brothers. Now? Now they seek to destroy one another.”

  Aichlan nodded with a grunt and filled his brandy snifter with water, he did the same for Maleah when she held out her empty glass to him. She made a pouting face and looked ready to dump it on the floor, but ultimately gave in and drank it. He always had his suspicions that this familial feud had a larger impact on her than she let on, but up until now she had always been so guarded with her emotions.

  “I didn’t want this life.” She muttered. “To see Cookie trained as a warhorse, to trample the hopes and dreams of others from her saddle, to see what remains of my family kill each other.”

  Aichlan drained the glass of brandy flavored water and poured himself another as he waited in silence for Maleah to continue.

  “Do you know what I did before I joined the Calvary Aichlan?”

  Aichlan shook his head ‘no’ and refilled her waiting glass. Maleah laughed a bitter laugh, it worried him that it could manifest in a woman as young as her, yet he too held some resentment unbecoming of youth.

  “I was a waitress at a tavern, and I studied ballet every spring in the neighboring town. I wore dresses, picked herbs and wildflowers in the summer, and gossiped with other girls in the village. At the time, a native born man had taken over the Wolves, so even living under the thumb of bandits wasn’t that bad. I even had a suitor.”

  Aichlan slouched further into his chair as he nursed his water. He found himself somewhat envious of her normal life prior to this conflict. He had been trained for war starting at a young age, and didn’t get to date or associate with many his own age outside of other squires. His first experience with a woman was when his lord took him to a brothel, and Dawn only knows how that experience may have warped him.

  “We started dating when I was fifteen, and he was a year or two older. I never loved a man like I loved him, except for my brothers of course, and I never got to meet my father. Osric was indifferent to our relationship, which is usually the best one can hope for him regarding anything not magic or history related. This was when he started teaching by the way.”

  Aichlan chuckled at her sudden shift in demeanor. He was glad she could still find happiness in her memories, though it was odd to hear talk of a man he saw as the greatest evil to walk the land in such a loving manner. It did little to shake his resolve to kill the man, but it was odd all the same. When confronted with evil, it is always easiest to just assume they were born that way, anything else has the unfortunate side effect of humanizing them.

  “He must ‘ave been a prodigy ta accomplish so much at such a young age.”

  Maleah smiled. “He was.”

  “What of Séverin?” Aichlan prodded, sensing she was in a talkative mood and unwilling to waste it.

  “Pfft. Séverin? He stopped by every now and again, and he always sent money.”

  “But?”

  “He didn’t approve of me dating a farmer. He knew if I married a farmer I’d end up raising a family in Balalaika.” She took a sip of water and sat in silence for several moments. “And what would be the harm in that?”

  Behind them, Alice snorted and curled up into a ball on the chair. The furnace had quickly warmed the room and Aichlan was finding it more and more difficult to keep his eyes open. He yawned loudly and nearly missed Maleah’s mumbled comment.

  “I know very little o’ what ‘appened, but it is my understanding that he didn’t wish for you to suffer through the same fears and choices yer parents ‘ad to make in a village ruled by brigands.”

  The look he received told him he should have remained silent, but Maleah eventually conceded to his logic. “Perhaps.”

  “So, how did you end up in the military?” Aichlan asked, eager to change the subject.

  “Severin has, had, a lot of pull in the military. He did the dirty stuff no one wanted to talk about, mostly politically motivated. I’m still not entirely sure, but it did involve the death of nobles, even those in other kingdoms. He wanted me out of Balalaika, somewhere where he could keep an eye on me. He and Osric fought over this, obvious who won that one.”

  She dabbed at her eyes with the napkin, and Aichlan watched in silence as he struggled to find words of consolation that weren’t clichéd. The femininity of the gesture was odd to him, as she rarely expressed such a side, or perhaps it was that he was never receptive to it before now. After several moments of silence, she looked over at him with annoyance.

  “Why are you so quiet then?” She demanded.

  “What would you have me say? What could I say that would change the past or at least lessen the burden you bear?”

  Maleah brushed him off and returned her gaze to the night before them. “That’s not your job General.”

  “Isn’t it? I am here for you Maleah, I value you and what you bring via your, unconventional leadership.”

  Maleah snorted and blew a strand of lavender colored hair from her face. “You’re just saying that.”

  Aichlan stood, pausing as the sudden rush nearly toppled him. He stretched and made his way to the glass and looked down on the scene that hadn’t changed since he last looked down over the city. He turned around and leaned his back against the glass, his arms folded over his chest. It was late, and Ashe would be quite cross with him if he awoke her while getting into bed, she’d be equally upset if she awoke and he wasn’t there. He leaned his head against the glass and sighed as he stared at the ceiling, he wondered if Renata had been as difficult. She was likely worse given her position in The Order, but he couldn’t be sure, he couldn’t really remember much about her anymore. He lowered his head and tried to focus on Maleah, the room spun and rocked as if he were on the ocean in a squall. She sat in silence, staring into her cup, he couldn’t tell for how long.

  “I don’t know Séverin well, but the man doesn’t frighten me. Yet you, Captain Maleah Miroshnik, sister to a man and daughter of a kingdom we all consider the enemy are afforded privileges to colonel and above.” She started to interrupt, but Aichlan cut her off. “Even now, you sit in on gatherin’s meant for Aes Sidheans, when you yerself only visited our verdant hills and rich shores from the saddle of a war’orse.”

  Maleah averted her gaze and blushed, unable to respond. Aichlan unsteadily leaned over to retrieve his glass and finished off the last of the water before continuing.

  “Yer lazy as shit,” he said, counting off his fingers, “insubordinate and can be a real bitch when you wanna—”

  Maleah held up her hand and looked away. “Alright, I get it.”

  “Do ya then? Ya ‘ave friends ‘ere Maleah.” He nodded in the direction of Taryn, still asleep before the dead fire. “Still ‘aven’t ‘eard the tale of yer meetin’, one would assume the two of you were together since birth.”

  “Why? Because we’re both cruel bitches?”

  Aichlan was drunk, but knew a set up when he saw one. “That’s not what ah meant.”

  Maleah smiled, and tried to hide her mirth by taking a sip of water. “Ah know wha’ ya meant” she replied, mocking his accent. “Taryn and me, we’re cut from the same cloth. Two women forced by circumstance into war. She was engaged once, but whereas I left mine, her’s was an asshole who left for someone else.”

  Aichlan felt slightly uncomfortable as the conversation shifted to relationships and scorned lovers. He himself was a heartbreaker of sorts, and would rather not think back on his past transgressions.

  “I wanted a daughter.” Maleah said suddenly. “A daughter and a son. We would live in the country and have the same kind of relationship that I and Osric once shared. They’d be so happy when uncle Ozzy or Séverin stopped by. Osric would have probably been on the Asketillian council by now…”

  “You’re only twenty-three Maleah. While it’s too late for all of your wishes to come to pass, there is no reason you can’t have children.”

  “You have a child on the way Aichlan.” She shot back, her eyes bloodshot with dried tears and mascara staining her cheeks. “With someone you love no less. I’ll never have that; my life is over. I’ll not be returning from this campaign.”

  Maleah angrily snatched the bottle of liquor from the table and took a swig. “Not that I’ll have anything to return to. My homeland is gone.”

  Aichlan approached and took the bottle from her hands. “Perhaps you’ve had enough.”

  She snatched her arm back as he tried to help her to her feet. He raised his hands in surrender and took a step back, teetering slightly.

  “I’m not ready to go yet.” She said softly.

  Aichlan’s mind wandered in the ensuing silence as he tried to think of ways to raise her morale. He always came back to his own bouts of melancholy and ill moods; how could he expect to raise the spirits of another when his own were so low?

  “Where will you go?” Maleah asked, breaking the silence.

  “What, when this is over?” He paused to consider her question, one he’d not given any thought to before. “My father owns, well, I suppose now I own an estate just north of Westfaire. I’d probably go there, give up all this fighting. Light knows The Order won’t have me back.”

  He neglected to tell her of how Ashe often spoke of returning to Rhode, something he had no intention of doing. It was not so much that he hated the arid home of the Colby-Nau, but rather there was not much to return to aside from bad memories and graves. He understood the sentiments Ashe likely held, perhaps because it wasn’t his home he couldn’t share them.

  “Everyone needs a place to call home.” He said absently, realizing after that it may have offended the listener. “Maleah, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

  Maleah half chuckled and waved her hand at the air between them. “Everyone gets homesick; my loss is not your concern.”

  “But it is, because I am concerned for you.”

  “Does your wife know about this?” she teased.

  “My wife is concerned as well. I’m certain you are aware that Taryn has voiced her concerns as well.”

  “That bitch.” She muttered under her breath as she averted her gave.

  “There’s other options besides this.”

  Maleah finished off the last of the water and slammed the cup down on the table. “It is late General, escort me to my room.”

  “You can walk.”

  Maleah pouted, her lids droping as she fumbled to cross her arms over her chest. “True, but I can’t hold back my hair when I start puking.”

  Aichlan smiled and helped her to her feet. She swayed and staggered for a few steps before she fell into his arms for an awkward embrace.

  “Thank you.” She whispered.

  Aichlan froze, unsure of how to proceed, awkwardly returning her embrace and patting her head. “None necessary.”

  “All the same, don’t bring this up again. I’ll stop drinking so much, but it’s too painful…”

  Aichlan nodded and stroked her hair. “You have my word.”

  “Good, and don’t mention this either.”

  Before Aichlan could ask what, Maleah leaned over and emptied her stomach onto the floor.