Chapter Text
An evening prayer.
Eiland spared a glance up at the moon, bright and tinted gold like a single tesserae thrown into the sky. He chuckled to himself, glad for a change that Adeline had refused to accompany him back to the manor. She’d only poke fun at his musing laughter, all too familiar with jokes only funny to him, and perhaps Errol on occasion. Half-hidden behind the veritable mound of paperwork she’d stubbornly brought along to the Sleeping Dragon, she’d all but waved him off when he’d paid for their last round and suggested it might be prudent to conclude her work in the safety of her office.
She’d raised a single pink brow, as if to argue silently what they both knew was true; Mistria was probably the safest town in all of Aldaria, even after the sun sank behind the mountains and painted their fields in hues of rose and violet.
Eiland knew his sister well enough not to argue further, and saw himself out into the breezy evening, waving back at Reina as she called out wishes for a good night. He planned on nothing less. There was still a slice of cake calling his name in their icebox, and two– two, by the gods!– artifacts awaiting perusal in his office. Vesper had been working harder than usual since the snows thawed, as if she felt the same excitement he did when the ground became soft enough to allow a shovel.
Vesper. He mused again on her name. His cheeks warmed as Eiland recalled the recent nights he’d spent poring over old ledgers from the capital. The history of her name was brief, as was the list of notable figures from centuries past who shared the moniker. An evening prayer, by definition.
Perhaps there was one thing missing from his yet-to-be perfect night. One person, rather.
But Eiland had spoken with her only just that morning, from the other side of the great desk in the museum’s atrium. She barely had time for more than a brilliant smile as she dropped off two carefully wrapped shards of what they suspected was a Caldosian drinking horn. Her armor reflected the weak pools of morning sunlight pouring in from the windows, casting dazzling light-beams along the flagstones. It was a perfect day for the mines, she’d declared, with a zeal in her stormy eyes that reminded Eiland she was an adventurer before she was a farmer.
He’d wished her luck, as he always did, and bade that she return safe– as she always had, he reminded himself.
But as Eiland scaled cobbled steps and passed under street-lanterns, a twinge in his chest ached at the thought that Vesper was still there– untold miles underground, swallowed by the earth itself. She’d been working in the deepest levels of the mines, deeper than Errol’s crew had ever delved before the earthquake. Eiland found his steps slowing as he grew closer to the fountain in the town square, its spouts of water burbling pleasantly.
Perhaps it was foolish. The woman named for one hardly needed an evening prayer from him– just a scholar, too weak to follow her down where danger lurked. Still, he sat on the fountain’s edge and returned his gaze to the sky. Already it had grown darker, with stars winking into view among the velvet tapestry woven above.
Be safe, he thought. Come home to us tonight.
Eiland half expected something to happen. The sky remained unchanged as ever, save for the few pale-pink blossoms floating along in the breeze.
Then, a rumbling began.
Eiland felt his skin surge with heat, just before he went cold all over with gooseflesh. His stomach dropped into a pit he hadn’t been aware his body contained. No. Not another earthquake.
It was only moments before his thundering heart caught up to his mind. The town was calm. There was no rattling of glass in their window panes, no creaking of trees or groaning of foundations. Though the sound hadn’t ceased, a steady beat like war drums growing louder by the clock-tick. Eiland stood on uneasy legs, flattening himself back against the fountain’s edge once again to avoid being trampled as a horse flew into view.
A purple horse.
Eiland blinked, hard. Was it later than he’d thought? Had he fallen asleep while daydreaming? It wouldn’t have been the first time.
And yet he watched in disbelief as the magnificent beast tore past, hooves falling against the cobblestones like thunder. He was nearly too slow to realize who it was that sat atop the steed, moving fast enough that its rider was naught but a flash of silver and rose-gold.
Vesper.
Eiland stood again, stumbling over his own feet.
“Wait!” He called out. She was already so much farther away, her strange horse now halfway along the bridge leading to the eastern road. “Vesper!”
If she heard him, she gave no sign. Eiland was running before he could think to stop himself, thankful that he’d dressed for excavation today. His boots were hardly made for long distances, but held up better than he could have hoped as he raced along the path Vesper had made in such haste. Why was he following her? Though it was admittedly uncommon that she hadn’t stopped to greet him, she’d shown no outward signs of distress. He’d never known a purple horse to be in her possession, but he’d learned long ago that when it came to Vesper, the strange was often found close behind.
So then, why was his heart pounding with fear? It beat in equal measure with his footsteps as he ran. She was far out of sight now, but Eiland had keen eyes. Even in the dark, he could see the dirt road torn up in clods where the horse had thundered through. Eiland ran, and ran, stopping only to admit temporary defeat to a stitch in his side. He leaned against a tree trunk, his fingers digging into his ribs to ease the cramp growing there. Vesper’s trail continued onward, off the traveled road and further into the forest.
Where was she going? And in such a hurry? It was common enough to find Vesper wandering in the woods, foraging or chopping wood where Mistria’s trees grew thickest. But Eiland knew what lay ahead, if they kept along the route he’d begun to realize she was taking. What was in the Deep Woods that had her so desperate?
Before his body could give into fatigue, Eiland pushed off again, running with renewed purpose. The entrance to the Deep Woods had been impassable for over two years now, thanks again to the earthquake. It was possible Vesper had found it in the past year, and grown curious. Her spirit of inquiry was one of the things Eiland liked best about her, after all. Yet he couldn’t tamper down the sense of worry that threatened to overwhelm him. On a steed that fast, it would be hard to stop suddenly. And the steps to the Deep Woods were overgrown with barbed thorns. Even Ryis had deemed the area condemned.
“Vesper!” Eiland called again. He hardly needed her trail now that he was sure he knew where she’d taken off to. The trees grew closer, the canopy of their leaves casting him in pure shadow of night. If he hadn’t taken this route so often in his youth, he’d have been forced to turn back by now. How she had gotten so far ahead was beyond him, now that they were in the forest’s domain. Eiland was forced to look down to keep from tripping over roots and breaking an ankle.
It was as the trees began to thin and the familiar clearing came into view that Eiland finally slowed again, taking in the sight before him with the same cold wash of shock he’d felt just moments ago.
Embers smoldered in the grass and dirt, glowing like coals cast from the forge. Smoke curled in plumes to the sky, though no flames could be found. And the stairs were– clear.
Eiland’s mind went blank.
Ryis, Landen, hell– even his father had all said the same thing. It was an impossible task. They’d need tens of workers from the capital, with the finest tools, just to make a dent in the damage caused by the earthquake here. The thorns had sprouted so suddenly and with such ferocity it was rumored to have been caused by latent magic. They grew thick as tree-trunks in some places, barely yielding to any axe March forged for the task.
How?
Shaking himself out of his stupor, Eiland started forward again. Vesper sat in the middle of the clearing, her cape torn, her face aimed up as though she were in danger of drowning. The horse seemed to have disappeared, perhaps having bucked her off at last. Eiland heard her name fall from his lips again, distantly, as though from someone else’s voice. She didn’t move as he finally dropped to her side, his knees digging into the grass.
“Vesper! What happened?” He reached for her on instinct, hands closing around the metal of her gauntlets and immediately drawn back with a startled hiss. Her armor burned.
“Can you hear me? Vesper?”
She stared blankly ahead, though she gasped like he’d dumped cold water over her face. It was then Eiland noticed how pale she looked, how much she was shaking. Her eyes dragged away from the stairs climbing into further darkness, at last meeting his.
“Eil–”
Vesper slumped forward into his arms, and this time Eiland was prepared for the heat coming off her in waves. He steadied her, allowing her head to rest against his shoulder while he awkwardly fumbled with the clasps of his cloak one-handed. Her breaths came out weak, fanning against the skin of his neck, far too warm. What in Mistria’s name had happened?
“Vesper, if you can understand me, nod once.”
It was only the slightest movement, but her head nudged into the crook of his neck. His heart stuttered in relief.
“Okay, that’s good. Nod once if you’re hurt, twice if you’re… alright, I suppose.”
She seemed to hesitate, before nodding once. Again his stomach sank. They were so far from town proper now, and no one else had seen them run off. Carefully Eiland adjusted his arms so that he could wrap his cloak around one of his hands.
“I’m going to try to remove your armor, alright? Nudge me if I’m hurting you.”
Vesper was eerily still as Eiland worked, his cloak a buffer against the intense heat of the metal as he pried it free from her limbs. Her gauntlets came away, then her gorget, followed by her breast-plate– though it gave him more trouble. He was careful not to react each time the bright red of her skin was revealed, clearly burned, peeking around the leather of her vest and bracers.
“By the gods, Vesper, what happened here?” Eiland mumbled under his breath. Vesper stirred only slightly at the worry in his voice, a low hum of acknowledgement heard in her throat. He fumbled for the waterpouch slung at his belt, nearly breathless with relief when he felt the tell-tale slosh inside. Coaxing Vesper to sit up just enough so that he could hold her upright, Eiland helped her tip the last of his meager water supply down her throat. To his greatest relief yet, she drank– though not without difficulty.
“He– he’s,” her words were stopped by a fit of coughing. “Waiting… there. I– need to…”
“Waiting?” Eiland thought for a moment Vesper was referring to the horse that bore her here, though the panic in her eyes seemed to tell a different story. “In there?”
The shadows of the great pines beyond loomed large, somehow visible even in the dark. The breeze whispered through their branches, like secrets long held within had escaped with the clearing of the thorns.
“Vesper, did you do this?”
Even to his own ears, Eiland sounded awed and a little afraid. Vesper seemed to notice. Though she leaned heavily against him, her hand found his and squeezed lightly.
“You are…” he discarded every word bouncing impatiently around his skull in one exhale. None of them seemed to do justice for the mysterious, wonderful woman in his arms.
“Well, whatever is in there has been waiting for a long time. We haven’t been able to reach the Deep Woods for so long, I’d started to think we’d never see the guardians again.” Eiland spoke softly, emotion thick in his throat. “I’m sure it can wait a day longer. You need rest, and healing.”
“No, I’m fine…” Vesper said, in such a weak voice even she seemed to realize how petulant she sounded. Eiland almost laughed, though the worry creeping like frost at the edges of his mind didn’t allow for it.
“Please, let me bring you back to town. The manor is closer than your farm, and you’re most welcome there. Always.”
“Eiland.” She whispered his name, and he couldn’t tell if she was going to try to argue. But instead, she released a sigh of her own. “Thank you.”
“No,” he said, half to himself and in such low tones he wouldn’t have been surprised if she couldn’t hear him. He stared up at the steps, free of thorns and inviting as if they were the entrance to an old friend’s home. “Thank you.”
—
In the end, it had taken the better part of an hour before Vesper was well enough to stand, even with assistance. Her armor had cooled enough to be handled, and Eiland knotted and slung his cloak over his back with the armor inside. With the heavy load on one shoulder and Vesper leaned on the other, it was slow-moving back to town. He’d asked after the horse, though Vesper only explained she didn’t have the strength to call it back at the moment.
After a night of strange occurrences, it was hardly the strangest.
The moon was high by the time the manor gardens came into view. Eiland nearly cried with relief when he saw figures crowded at the doorway; dark silhouettes that took on the shape of his sister and Great Aunt Elsie as they approached.
“There you are!” Adeline cried out, running to meet them across the lawn. “We’ve been worried sick! You left the Inn hours ago, where–”
She gasped and darted forth, moving to hold up Vesper on her other side. Eiland’s shoulder went numb with the release of weight.
“What happened to her? Is she alright?” Adeline pressed frantically.
“I still don’t know, and… well, I don’t know that either. We need Valen, quickly.”
“I’ll alert the doctor at once.” Elsie announced, her face drawn in determination as she strode down the well-kept garden path in her fluttering pink night-robe. Between the two siblings, it was much quicker work to usher Vesper inside and lay her down in one of the numerous spare rooms. She looked so small in the over-large bed, her hair a spill of rose-gold over the lavender sheets. Some color seemed to have returned reluctantly to her cheeks, though she barely stirred even as Adeline fretted over her. Eiland dropped heavily into an armchair by the bedside, struck with all the fatigue he’d been holding back at once. He felt as though he’d raced March across Mistria’s entire length– twice.
“I’m sure Valen will be here soon,” Adeline said, a crease of worry between her brows. “You should sleep. You’ve been out all night!”
“Don’t worry about me,” Eiland insisted, fidgeting to get comfortable in his seat. Despite the upright back, the cushions were sublimely plush. “I want to be here when she wakes up.”
Adeline eyed him with a look he hadn’t yet grown used to. It was different from the way she looked when she was mothering him, and different still from her expression when he’d accidentally bored her with some topic of historical significance. He’d been getting a lot of this look from her, ever since the Shooting Star festival.
“Well, alright. I’m going to wait outside for Aunt Elsie and Valen. You’ll be alright here with her?”
“Of co-ourse.” Eiland forced out the words through a yawn so wide, he thought his jaw may never return to its proper alignment.
Adeline rose from her seat on the bed, running a hand through his hair. He must have looked an absolute mess. His sister’s face softened into a smile.
“My adventurous brother, what am I going to do with you?”
“You could put in an order for those pastries from the capital this week. Balor is about to make the trip back.”
Her responding laugh was kind, and Adeline left the room in a swish of pink. Eiland forced his eyes open wider, intent on watching for any sign Vesper showed of pain. She seemed to be asleep, and Eiland was careful to lift the chair legs beneath him as he inched closer to the bedside. At least this close, he was only an arm’s reach away if she needed him.
He drifted off without a fight, head swimming with dreams of the Deep Woods and the guardians within, waking from a long slumber. Just before he could fall into his own slumber, Eiland remembered. It was like trying to snatch at one of the spring blossoms in the wind, but he caught at a scrap of memory- of the night he’d had before Vesper flew by.
Had his evening prayer worked? Was it the reason she was now safe, in bed, close enough that he could touch her?
Some part of him knew whatever magic followed in Vesper’s footsteps hardly hinged on his wishes to keep her out of harm’s way. And still, he couldn’t allow himself to fall asleep without another attempt; an evening prayer, for her.
Be safe, he thought, his mind awash with dreams. Be there when I wake up, and every night after.