The morning greeted Kysante’s face with a lovely kiss of sunshine through the window. The only window in that room, was facing the fields across the city walls. The knight was relieved of being once more in a safe place, where he always wanted to be. His time was precious, due to the fact that duty would call upon his door in a matter of days. He blinked quickly to wash away the sleepiness of his eyes and looked for her around the room. But there was no one.

The sounds of the city felt warm as a hug in a time of sorrow, although there was nothing to be sorrowful about. In this side of Deidra, the canals were not too smelly, for people had access to fresh water straight from the hills behind the castle. The house was in a spot of high prestige, nesting a loving couple formed by one of the most honorable knights in Deidra, and the woman who took care of him. Unlike many other houses, this one preceded the flow of water before any other. And the royal family was the first one in the chain of architectural blessings, obtaining water straight from the hill springs. Their inner circle of courtesans and noble houses were also part of the blessed ones, enjoying the first spots of houses near the castle.

How Kysante had acquired this particular stone house was not a mystery for anyone. He was not picked favorably by any superiors, but rather rewarded for his many years of service with what once was the home to a respected hierophant. The walls still carried that divine sensation of a place that lacked evilness, completely held by divinity in a sacred spot. There was a tiny garden too, with many -but limited- patches of greenery to grow and harvest seasonal herbs. But none of that was of Kysante’s interest, for he had no time to leisure in there.

He felt a tangy sweet smell fogging the house as soon as he left the room, walking toward the main area where a small fire was crackling with a tiny log in a corner, enough to heat up the morning tea in a rusty iron kettle. It took him less than a couple of steps to reach it, since the house was nowhere near big or opulent. Sweet lemon tea with peppermint, he said to himself sniffing as much as possible.

“And here I am thinking you were going to sleep until noon like always!” Lyna laughed, and ran in his direction with open arms.

Lyna’s smell was beautiful. Like fresh honeycomb made of wildflowers. Pure and raw. There was a bit of smoke and sweat in her as well, for she had been cooking and preparing his welcome breakfast. Everything was perfect, like a dream come true. He couldn’t avoid thinking of how long would it last until his next call.

How could he sleep until noon, knowing that this is what awaited for him every time he was back home? Yet something about having a week free of duties always deemed to be purely dedicated to sleep. His mind, and body, were always tired of being alert.

A life scheduled only for training and chasing the unlawful foes, protecting the crown and the realm, was exhausting. But as of lately, nothing was disrupting the peaceful life in Deidra. Yet.

“I don’t deserve you, sweetheart.” Kysante kissed her forehead and stared deeply into her eyes, wondering what was going on inside that sweet mind full of love and passion for someone that barely saw her.

Living within the castle did not mean he was deprived of comfort, food, or a nice bath. It represented the whole opposite: a life of no need. But not being able to abandon his position until release meant that he could see Lyna only once every moon cycle.

Now was the time for a deserved rest, with the love of his life.

“I made sweet lemon tea. I hope you have not forgotten the taste of it.”

“How could I forget it? Is the drink I crave the most, made by the woman I love the most.”

Hugging each other, their scents united like a blooming flower of many sensations and feelings. Sweet and salty, wool and honey, lemon and grass. All that they were, combined into one single soul. Almost made for each other. Almost two halves of the same fruit, or two pages of the same book.

“Well… I can tell that your palette has grown used to more refined flavors in that castle,” Lyna retaliated, frowning at the sight of his husband’s long hair, silky and smooth thanks to the many baths he could afford up there. “I can’t not be jealous of your lifestyle, knight. Surrounded by the rich, being always freshly cared for, with a belly full of expensive wine and the most tender lamb in the whole continent.”

“Oh, don’t be mean. I’m sure you would not enjoy doing what I endure in the training camps. Could you ever behead wild boars, wearing nothing but your own skin, and weapons heavy as half of your body?” Kysante said gesturing what looked like a fighting stance against an invisible enemy. His body was, indeed, reflecting all of his endeavors. But even with thick muscles all around his complexion, she could still recognize the reflection of how greedy his appetite was, and how expensive.

“You dare me, and I’ll be the toughest warrior you ever met,” she fought back, running backwards to grab a wooden spoon and make it dance across her fingers like a dagger. Her hair danced around her, sparkling with the sun that peeked through the side doors wide open. The breeze was warm, announcing the start of perhaps the most plentiful and peaceful summer in the continent.

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“You are looking for a fight, and you will find it my beauty. Remember that I am bigger than you, and stronger.”

They both laughed and chased each other until their breaths ran out and the sweat covered their frowns. The sweet tea was delicious. And so was the rooster pie she cooked before sunrise. As one, the delighted themselves with this feast. Not a very pristine one, for the ingredients used were of a low quality nature, but there was love in it. A lot of love.

Nothing here tasted like what is available up in the castle. He may have grown used to the flavor of royalty, but the taste of love may have been more powerful in his belly.

“What will be the next task, my love?” Lyna wondered, as she always loved to hear from his adventures. She had her own too, but the time to tell those ones would come after, with a walk through the city streets.

“We are going to Markaros in a couple of days. Whispers of a very malicious man experimenting with fragile people who have nothing, in exchange for a few coppers.”

“Oh. That sounds like what healers do all the time. Experiment, right?” Lyna said waiting for his reassurance, but he did not agree.

“Well, if those whispers are true, then the informants seem to believe that is not a healer, but rather something else. Healers are all tracked by the King’s Council, for their duties are always well rewarded. But there is only one healer in Markaros, and as far as we know, he is not related to this doings.”

“So, if not a healer, what is it then? A herbalist? A wizard perhaps? I love wizards, they always have a little trinket that makes your life easier. I wish I could get a fire-starter of some sort. Getting these logs to caught up and stay on fire for more than half an hour seems to be impossible lately. Everything is so wet thanks to the damn winter that lasted an eternity.”

“Wizards don’t sell trinkets. They are tricksters. Don’t ever dare to trade with them, they will only take from you in exchange for a cheap show of no useful nature.” Kysante spoke with a serious voice tone, making himself very clear on his stance.

“There is no need of getting this alarmed. No one has seen wizards in ages, my love. They are all gone, they all traveled to more fun cities, where their skills are more appreciated.”

“You know how much I hate tricksters. Mainly if they play with people’s wishes and hopes.” The knight was very real in his belief. There had never been traces of a successful wizard that proved himself worthy of praise. He only believed in healers, for their skills were founded not in the nonsensical magic but in the very real nature. In proof and tangible evidence.

“Well. If there is no magic related, how can that person experiment much?”

“You seem to forget how cruel and evil people can be,” Kysante sadly added to his explanation. “This person is committing atrocious acts. Beyond your imagination. Is not someone innocently practicing with new herbs, or healing procedures.”

Lyna was scared now, and it showed in the way her eyes got wet with the thoughts of the unimaginable.

“I don’t want to go into detail. But he is promising woman, that are not blessed with the ability to give birth, with the opportunity to bear child safely.”

It sounded very hopeful, indeed. Could it be possible? His wife only wondered to within.

“How? What is he? How can he do this, if not a healer?” Lyna asked intrigued, considering the chance only for a moment.

“He is an alchemist. Apparently, a very popular one in Markaros.”

“Well. I have never been there, unfortunately. I couldn’t know.”

“And you will never be, my love. Is not safe out there for such a beautiful woman like you.” He kissed her cheek softly, smiling at her. “But perhaps… if you dare yourself so brave… you could use that wooden spoon against a few idiots out there, right?”

She laughed again, thankful for what Kysante did. He was honest, as he always was, telling her of his duties and tasks, of the latest rumors in the city and who was causing panic among people. But he would always come back to his happy, cheerful self, in an attempt to remind Lyna that this was their safe place. Where nothing else mattered, outside of this walls. If the world was cruel, it happened out there, not to them. Not to her. Whatever evil wandered the lands, it was always far away. And they will always end up laughing about it, as if their destiny was written already for them, to always end the day with a smile in their faces.

Lyna finished washing the pots from breakfast in a wooden bucket, while Kysante wiped off and brushed the ashes from the ground near the fire. He couldn’t help but see how Lyna was still intrigued. Her mind was wandering around the place, like if her thoughts were somewhere else. Had he made a mistake? By telling her something so twisted and wicked? No. She was a good woman, a strong one. She had endured worse things than a freak playing with people’s bodies miles away.

The breeze danced in the trees outside, signing a swift melody for them, and a distant fiddle resonated somewhere. That only could mean one thing: the bards were at the market, trying to make some coin.

It was time for a stroll, and to greet some familiar faces.

~