The mountain range loomed over mankind as the Everflame took its leave. Yet the Lady of Fire extended her blessings to the cold nights, the passionate burning flames giving way to shine on the crystal-like sphere of silver hanging above the mortal’s heads. It gave not much warmth, but still lit the way for those lost in the night. Luna no longer hid amongst the curtain of clouds and revealed all of herself to all life below. It was an invitation, a beckoning.

There is light, so let the night bustle.

The Swordmaster recited a poem in his mind as he cascaded the steep stairs to the summit. The trees rustled as the spirits brushed past, all heading towards the gate of the clan. The cool air sent him into a dazed calm and he relished the words playing in his head. He walked leisurely- he feared that he would be burdened with more tasks if he arrived even a second early.

The only problem was that the voice reciting the poem was not his own.

“There is light, so let the night bustle,

Luna speaks,

Branches rustle.

Before the castle, a virgin sings.

Her tunes bless these ears,

But she never catches these eyes.

It is the elusive I desire.

It is one in perpetual ire.

Oh, Luna please tell,

Did you put me under this spell?”

Kael did not try to push out the voice for once. In fact, he cherished the memory that could never be recreated by that cool, light voice. It was a voice that refreshed one after a tiring day, that would make you talk for hours on a sore throat. Why else would there always be a crowd around the Spellmaster when he recited his newest works. The Swordmaster knew that at the news of his death, young women from all over the nation would sob endlessly at the death of the heartthrob. A scholarly young man with soul-touching poems who fights valiantly against the demons. Women yearned to be his bride, and men to be his brother.

And so, for each step he took upwards, a new verse resounded.

“Every day I pray,

You will look my way.

I ask not a blessing,

In my misery never-ending.

A mere gaze, however fleeting,

Will make my heart sore.

Oh, Luna tell me please,

Why did I fall victim to thy tease?”

Although Kael would never accept it, there was a part of him that liked the Spellmaster’s poems. It all lied in the interpretation. The lovesick interpreted them as romance, the religious took his writings as devotion. Even the poem he was inwardly reciting, Luna’s gaze could be taken as either. But Kael was neither religious nor interested in matters of the heart.

So why did he like the poems?

Because he felt that reading one of such poems was a look into the Spellmaster’s head. The Swordmaster was not one who was profound at the ways of words and wit- reading people’s intent and emotions was not his forte. But the words before him were written clear as day, easy to understand just by lingering on it for a few minutes. There was no facade of insincere words in the passionate poem or the poet.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

He cared not whether Thalorin was hopelessly in love or was fervent in seeking refuge with the Mother and Luna. All he cared about was the minor details. The fact that he liked the tune of the young girl carrying a basket who sang in front of the gates of the mountain. The fact that he was in a predicament that could be described as ‘never-ending misery’. TThe fact that the jolly Spellmaster was head-deep into an obsession, a yearning with one who grants him nothing but ‘perpetual ire’ that none knew about. Or cared about. Maybe he was the only one, maybe there were thousands more, who knew?

But at the end of his train of thoughts, Kael firmly shook his head and said that he was just getting sentimental about his deceased colleague. He would repeat this chant of denial again and again, until it became ingrained in his mind and one with his soul, until he wholly believed his own sweet lies.

But this denial gave way to a new problem…

Am I getting attached to the people of the Yerr Clan? So much that I would think about a deceased colleague even after a night’s sleep? Pathetic…

The tranquil face present moments ago vanished, leaving a deep frown in its wake.

At long last, the summit was in sight. The first thing that greeted him was a large bonfire in the middle of the central square, surrounded by markings with words scribbled in between the lines. Wind bellowed, ten times more fierce than the calm breeze of the mountain slope. It was a good sign, it showed that the surrounding spirits were being drawn to the fire.

Kael’s clothes were flying though, and his skin felt like it was being slightly grazed by the howling winds. Yet the flames barely swayed and stood steadfast. The villagers, and the clanspeople were all standing a distance away from the fire, while a select few stood closer. Last minute touches were being done, and the lord’s head turned every few moments to make sure the markings he drew so painstakingly using the chalk remained intact.

Kael had long grown used to the insistent squirming in his coat pocket. Therefore, he became all the more aware when it had ceased its actions.

The Swordmaster was sighed in relief and-

The squirming before was probably just the snake shaking its tail around. But now, it was beginning to use all of its energy to try and break free. The only reason the snake was trapped in a mere coin pouch was because Kael found it surprisingly docile. However, it seemed that it had finally borne its fangs.

As if in a rut, it used its fangs to try and tear a hole in the coin pouch in desperation.

Normally, the Swordmaster would not care much. However, this was not a normal situation. If the snake could bite through the coin pouch, it could bite a hole into his coat. If it could bite through his coat, it could bite through his pants. If it bit through his pants then-

The normally dauntless man shivered slightly.

The gears in his mind immediately began spinning like clockwork, and his fingers inched towards the pocket of his coat. He reached his fingers inside lightly, as if testing the waters.

Too late. The pouch had already been viciously bitten through. Seeing the hand of the man, the snake immediately made use of the golden opportunity. It lunged at the fingers that were retracting and slithered up the hand.

The stunned Swordmaster really wanted to act on his primal instinct- he wanted to shake his arm really hard until the snake was sent flying. However, doing that in such a solemn time would be extremely rude…as if he was not already harbouring enough resentment from the clanspeople.

So the Swordmaster bit his lip, tearing off a part of skin in the process, as he let the reptile slither up his body and curl up at his neck. He had half expected the snake to jump off and run…slither as far away from him as possible. He really could fathom what was going on with the snake…could reptiles have mental problems?

The cool scales of the reptile rested against Kael’s collarbone, and its head was perked up. The most odd thing was that it kept hissing in his ear, even louder than the wind.

Hiss, hiss hiss hiss…hiss!

To him, it was a mere animal’s noise. But to the snake, it was letting go of the pent-up frustrations it had for the past few days. Even a foul-mouthed person like Kael’s face would go pale if he could understand what the snake was saying. The worst part was that it never stopped, and just kept letting out sounds that tickled his ear.

He really needed to go read Thalorin’s animal guide as soon as possible.

But before that, there was Lunae.

Kael walked towards the lord with the fruits in hand. He would never admit it, but he had chosen each and every fruit carefully, making sure not a single blemish was on it, that each fruit was neither raw nor overripe. The scrutinising seemed to pay off, though as the lord had gawked at his haul.

“Such heavy rain and you’ve managed to procure such fine fruit?” The lord smiled and arranged the fruits neatly on a golden tray adorned with incantation carvings on the side.

Kael had bowed at the words, not saying another word. In the process, the snake’s head knocked against the back of his skull.

Kael grit his teeth and stood in silence after that- he had never bore spite towards the reptile before, but now he had developed an unshakable grudge.

The snake saw the resentful gaze of the man it was perched on and wanted to shed tears…or whatever the reptile equivalent of that was. The snake was being thrown into one situation.

But on the bright side, at least it could breathe fresh air…but for how long more?

The snake seemed to learn what it truly meant to be in an abusive relationship.