Chapter 2

Albinus and Silvanus have an interesting relationship that is deeper than it seems initially. Their history spans back to their childhood and despite their faults, they remain loyal to each other.

Chapter Two

 

            Harmonia gave a sharp yelp of surprise as Livi burst through the door and spun directly around to lock and bolt it behind her. Harmonia took up a pot defensively, raising it as a weapon and ducking behind the cutting block where she had been chopping potatoes, “What’s going on? Livi?” she whimpered, peering over the edge of the block to where Livi stood panting, her back pressed against the door.

            On cue, their father stumbled into the room, wearing his own night cap, sleeping shirt, and cotton breeches. “By the gods, Livia…” he breathed, appearing more aged from the wind, sun, and ocean spray. His sparse hair was soft white, his eyes a worn hue of amber. He crinkled his brow as Liviana finally looked up at him, still shaking from her encounter and an expression of breathless panic on her face.

            “Livi, what happened?” Harmonia tried again, setting her pot down and going round the cutting block to take earnest steps towards her younger sister.

            Her father’s brow furrowed deeper as Liviana stepped into the light, her leather working apron wet and glistening with a spray of blood. She hadn’t even noticed until now.

            “Oh…” she managed to breathe, her heart still pounding franticly in her chest as she stripped the apron from her and let it fall to the floor. Before she could make word or protest her father stepped sternly into the room, taking the apron and throwing it into the hearth fire. His eyes burned with a resolute, silent anger. It wasn’t the first of her antics but by far it was the most dangerous. Defying a guard of the Men of WestSea was reason enough to go to the noose, much less killing one of them.

He turned on his daughter, snatching his night cap from his head and clenching it in his old, weathered hands, “Were you followed?” He asked, his voice strangely calm as he eased into his warped old rocking chair that was drawn up close to the hearth.

Liviana paused a moment, her voice catching in her throat as she watched him. If she had been, if the guards knew who she was, he would be the one to pay the price with his blood. Then they would come for his daughters. “I don’t know.” She croaked finally, speaking all the truth she could manage. The two cloaked figures might have been following her…but they did not seem like Men of WestSea. They carried no swords, that she saw, and bore no armor. And those eyes; she shivered to remember it, reaching to rub her arms and push away the chills.

“Go to bed,” Her father spoke again, sitting forward in his chair, staring into the flames of their humble sandstone hearth and frowning deeply, “Both of you.” He had withstood countless events of her rash temper and courageous antics, most of which came at his expense. This time, with blood upon his youngest daughter’s hands, he simply did not want to know the details.

Behind the locked doors of their bedchamber, Harmonia clung to her with obvious nervous fear, never straying but a few feet from her younger sister’s side. Theirs was a one room bedchamber on the second floor, with a bed of old white linens and lumpy feather pillows where they had slept together since they were girls and only a few other warped sticks of furniture. A single window looked out past their meager lawn of sparse grasses, struggling gardens, to the wide expanse of the sea that sparkled under the silver glow of the moon. Liviana kept her silence, not bothering to change from her ragged brown dress as she slipped beneath the blankets of their bed. Beneath the old, worn quilts their mother had made that offered some small amount of comfort to her trembling form.

Harmonia sat down gently, her presence soft and delicate as she faced away from her younger sister. “I’m not going to ask what happened, Livi.” She whispered, her voice very hushed and laced with a kind of fear. “But I want to know, are you okay?”

Liviana listened, saying nothing and lying such that she faced the wall instead of her sister. Never in her eighteen years had she felt such raging confusion and conviction. Though her lips wouldn’t move, her mind shouted with a hundred questions. Did the blacksmith live? Did his young wife? Did the stranger who had saved her…save them as well? Was he alive? She choked on her thoughts and buried her face against her pillow.

Harmonia gave a gentle sigh, turning to face her and brushing affectionate fingers through her hair. She hummed a moment, one of the old hymns their mother had sung so long ago, but the words were lost and a faint remnant of the tune was all that remained. Finally she settled next to her sister, arranging the blankets around them and blowing out the single candle at their bedside. Darkness swallowed the room, save for the silver shadows from the moon that spilled from the windowpane. Liviana lay with her face hidden, eyes shut tight, until sleep finally found her there.

�-ö–

 

            He stood outside the weathered cottage, the night breeze blowing at his heavy black cloak, loosing a few locks of silken black hair from beneath the hood. Eyes like emerald fires turned to where his young comrade had come to stand beside him, staring up at the humble little house that crouched against the wind.

            “You’re sure it’s her?” A voice as smooth as fresh white snow came from beneath his comrade’s hood. He turned then to look up at him, exposing half of a ghostly white face and a pair of ice-blue eyes. “Silvanus?”

            He made no answer to that, stepping towards the house, the black cape rippling and flowing behind him, brushing the sandy earth and melting into whatever shadow crossed his path. His comrade followed, not so boldly, keeping a wary blue eye about them for more guards…or worse.

�-ö–

 

            “Livi!” Harmonia shook her shoulder franticly, finally rousing her only to clamp a hand down over her mouth. “There’s someone here! They just beat on the door! Father’s downstairs talking to them!”

            Livi’s heart leapt into her throat and she snapped up right, snatching out of the blankets and rushing to the window. Down on the doorstep stood one of the robed figures who stared about in a slow panning motion as if he were keeping guard. Her heart thumped such that it hurt and she covered her own mouth with one hand to stifle a scream.

            “Who are they?” Harmonia whispered, stepping lightly to stand beside her and stare down at the black-caped stranger, “Is it one of them that you killed?”

            Livi slid her hand down to wrap around her throat, moving away from the window and thinking furiously, “No. It wasn’t. They… One of them. One of them saved me from the night guards.”

            “But who are they, Livi?” Harmonia pressed, still staring out the window and not noticing as Liviana had stolen towards the door and quietly lifted the lock.

            “I don’t know.” She answered before slipping out, Harmonia following after her swiftly and silently. Down the old creaking staircase, voices murmured just inside the doorway; one voice being her father’s and the other someone else’s. The stranger’s tone was smooth deep like a river’s roar that neither of them had heard before. Liviana strained her ears, wanting to know who they were, from where they had come, and why they had followed her here. But only a few words could be made out as they kept their voices low and guarded, mumbling back and forth in what might have been a heated argument. Finally, the voices stopped and the sisters exchanged puzzled glances, watching as a light was lit in the kitchen and heavy footsteps began to approach.

            They scrambled back inside the bedchamber, shutting the door with haste and backing away. Harmonia ducked into a shadowed corner, hiding desperately, and Livi did the same by tucking herself behind the where the door might open. The door opened and their father stuck his head in, glancing about the darkened room and raising a lantern up to offer light and expose Harmonia where she trembled in her corner.

            “Where’s your sister?” He asked, his face firm and creased with seriousness. Livi could see his firm expression and it frightened her into holding her tongue, praying he might assume she had run away. He turned his head, spotting her then, and she felt her stomach plunge and her knees shake. “Come downstairs.” He commanded, his voice strangely gentle as his eyes fell upon her trembling form.

            “Daddy!” Harmonia cried, barely able to keep her voice in a whisper, “Who are they? Why do they want to see Livi?”

            He silenced her with the shaking of his head, beckoning again for Liviana to follow. She cast a long, sorrowful look at Harmonia, dread settling about her neck like a boat anchor, and slipped out of the room to follow him down the stairs. Her father walked slowly, holding the lantern up high so that they might both see the rickety old steps. She wondered why he would not light the kitchen lamps, but asked nothing of it. He led on towards the kitchen and front door where it stood wide open. The tall form of a man filled the doorway with his angular shape. Her lodged in her throat, choking her violently as she saw the same piercing green eyes that had stabbed her once before that evening.

            Her father’s hand settled upon her shoulder, a simple act of reassurance, and he urged her to go closer while he followed. The lantern light finally fell upon the man, forcing back the shadows he draped himself in, and exposing his face beneath the hood. He dwarfed her, standing solidly a foot taller, and looked down upon her with a fiercely handsome face drawn with sharp features on white, flawless skin. But there was nothing kind about his face. All his features were abrupt and direct, something about the angular line of his jaw and the dark lines of his brows seemed vibrantly rebellious. But he was young, she could tell, perhaps not much older than her, and he bore a rich, mysteriously frightening beauty that stunned her beyond words. His eyes stared down at her in a shade she had never seen before, a bright green that couldn’t have been human.

            The silence was thick, her lips parting but unable to call words past them. The young lord flicked his glowing green hues away, looking about with a defiant directness that seemed powerfully intelligent. His dark features creased into a scowl, pulling a bundle of clothing from beneath his black cloak, “Have her change into this.” He spoke, his voice bearing less emotion than the pale, cold lines of his face. He held the bundle out expectantly, saying nothing more but arching a dark brow as if daring them to defy him.

            Her father nodded, far more graciously than would have been expected due to a mere lord, but she barely noticed. Her eyes were captured in his, drawn into the vast world that thrived there, a bliss of lush green leaves fluttering from the arms of an ancient tree. Her heart stirred as he shifted his gaze to look down to her again, towering above them at his great height with almost a god-like presence that neither frightened nor intimidated her any longer. Perhaps he wasn’t nearly as cold and threatening as he intended. Or perhaps the reassurance that he had spared her life once this evening proved that his intentions couldn’t have been so horrible.

            Her father bowed his head again, keeping his eyes downcast in deep reverence, and accepted the bundle of clothing. Liviana felt as though she had been snatched from a dream as her father took her shoulder firmly and nudged her out of the room. Harmonia stood at the top of the staircase, watching through the bars of the railing with wide, frightened eyes.

            “Daddy? What’s happening?” She asked, her voice trembling audibly as she observed the faint traces of awe on her sister’s face. Liviana looked up to her, still caught up in the dream that swirled like an ancient fairy tale in the young lord’s eyes, barely even seeing her sister’s worry-ridden face.

            “Put these on, Livi, do as he says. Do you understand me?” Her father took her shoulders in his hands firmly, guiding her to look up at him. The dream faded from her eyes and she choked on words of confusion. “I have done all I can for you, my love,” His sun-weathered face wrinkled in an expression of worry, “Think of us kindly, but this simple life was not meant for you.”

            “Father?” She panicked, beginning to tremble as he placed the bundle of clothing into her hands and bade her go up the stairs to change. He said nothing else, his heavy brow knit in despair as he left to stand again with the young lord.

            Liviana stumbled up the stairs, Harmonia slipping from her path to follow her like a silent shadow into their bedchamber. Her sister’s face was blank save for a look of worry, soft blue eyes wide and watching Livi’s every move as she shut the door behind them. “Livi…what’s happening? Who are those people?” She whispered franticly, rushing to seize her hands in an earnest grip.

            “I don’t know.” Liviana managed to breath, feeling a chill of nervousness begin to grip her arms and legs. She pulled away from her sister’s touch, fumbling clumsily to untie the bundle, her nerves making her movements erratic and faulty. A drab pair of brown breeches and a boys green tunic were wrapped within a black cloak similar to what the two strangers wore. Harmonia drifted closer to watch, her pale features glowing softly as a morning star against the darkness. “He’s…some kind of noble I think.” Livi finally managed to say, looking to her sister for a brief second before changing into the awkward boy’s clothes.

            “One of them?” Harmonia gasped, a hand coming to cover her mouth as her features paled in fear.

            Livi shook her head, pulling the breeches up to her hips and tying the drawstring so that they fit her snuggly. She reached for the tunic, slipping it down over her head, and pulling lengths of her long dark hair from beneath the collar. “No, I don’t think so. They don’t look like Men of WestSea.” She struggled with fastening a belt about her waist, barely able to close the buckle as her hands shook with anxiety.

            “Livi,” Harmonia nibbled at her bottom lip, becoming visibly flushed and unsure at what her sister wore, “why are you wearing this? What’s going on?”

            A pang of realization seized at her throat as she looked down at the gawky, bulging clothes she wore; clothing that hid every hint of feminine curve she had. They were taking her somewhere. The realization struck her solidly and she eased down onto the bed, staring ahead as her mind reeled at the thought. Why go to so much trouble? The only time nobles ever came to the houses of commoners was to buy a poor commonman’s daughter for slavery or worse; neither of which sounded particularly appealing. But neither seemed reason to dress her has a boy. There had to be something else. Something neither the stranger nor her father would dare mention. “I’m leaving.” She managed to speak, her voice coming with a heavy exhale. The words didn’t taste nearly as bitter as she thought they would. She was leaving. There was no indication of where she was going or for what purpose, but even the absence of that knowledge felt numb in her heart. She really was leaving, maybe Saltwhine, maybe the southern region altogether, and the prospect made her heartbeat quicken and her mind toil over a thousand possibilities. A future spread out before her like a carpet of lush spring grasses, sprouting from the desolate sands of this place that had been her home.

            “Liviana…no! Please! I’ll beg father to reconsider!” Harmonia fell to her knees before her sister, grabbing at her hands as she began to weep. Liviana looked down to her in utter shock, ripped again from a dream that touched her mind as an alluring fairy tale.

            Tears stung at her distant blue eyes as she ran affectionate fingers through Harmonia’s long gold hair. In her heart, she knew that Harmonia had depended heavily upon her help with the chores and her presence as a sense of security in a country where there was none. Leaving meant robbing that away from her. But at the same time staying felt just as utterly wrong. “No, please, it’s all right.” She struggled over how to explain the conflicting emotions that stormed in her heart. There really was no good way to make anyone else understand it. But now it seemed the massive expanse of the ocean would have to pull back and allow a path for her into the world. She would be given freedom from the drab routine that would have undoubtedly been hers for the rest of her days. At least, that is what she assumed. “I need to do this, Moni.” She whispered gently, lifting her elder sister’s delicate face up to meet hers, “You know I do.”

            Harmonia’s features twisted slightly, a look of grief passing across her face; she understood. “I know.” She gathered herself to her feet again, floating away across the room like a ghostly apparition, her cheeks reddened with tears. There was a strangely cold look of resolution on her gentle sister’s face as she went to withdraw the tiny wooden box she kept tucked away into the top drawer of their dresser. The little box was of pale sandalwood, carved by their father and given to her not so many years ago. Its contents were meant to be worn by her on the day when she wed, all her father’s savings spent for it. Harmonia crossed the room again, pressing the little box into her little sister’s hands and meeting her eyes with faltering look of strength. “Remember me fondly, please Livi. Know that you always have your sister’s love.”

            Tears suddenly burst from Livi’s sky-blue eyes, holding the smooth little box tightly and embracing her sister as they wept. The twisting of the doorknob parted them and their father peered in. His expression daunted close to tears himself to see them in such a state. “Come, Livi, it’s time.”

            She rose from the edge of the bed, sliding from her sister’s grasp. Grabbing the long black cloak from the floor, and moving quickly to stand before her father, she tucked the box away into the folds of black fabric before he might catch a glimpse of her sister’s parting gift. A single glance back at Harmonia made her heart thrum with pain and worry for her safety. Without her protection, a delicate girl like Harmonia would be at the mercy of the city guards. She bit back bitterly at the thought of it, flinching away before her mind could venture further into that nightmare.

Her father reached rough, work-worn hands to wipe the tears from her cheeks, smiling strangely and laying an affectionate palm on her slender shoulder. “Don’t be afraid, Liviana,” He whispered gently, guiding her from the room, “Not every great power in this world is foul, no matter how it snarls and sneers.” She caught a strange tone in his voice at that comment, but made no reply.

Down in the doorway, the young lord bore an expression that was unmistakably angry. Too much time had been wasted and he stood rather tensely, glaring over their parting procedures with a tight-lipped scowl. His vastly intelligent eyes stared over the young Liviana, calculating and appraising every part of her without comment. Whatever it was that displeased him, he said nothing about it.

A cry came from the night beyond the doorway, followed by grunts and the sound of gurgling gasps. Livi stood, her feet bolted to the floor in fear, eyes beholding the form of a white wolf, the size of a small horse, bearing a night guard to the ground by his throat in their front lawn. The young lord’s face showed no surprise or panic, but he grabbed her arm in a strangely warm vice-grip and drug her from the room, slamming the front door behind them. And so she was gone.

The night wind howled around the corner of the house, screaming at the spectacle that had begun to unfold. The wolf wrenched the guard’s throat free of his body, dropping pounds of bloody flesh onto the sandy earth and lifting its head to look at them. “You took too long. They’re in the thickets.” The wolf’s lips moved over jagged white fangs laced with blood. Livi blinked, barely able to convince herself that the beast had spoken.

She screamed, a shattering cry against the silent night, as an arrow whirred through the darkness to plunge into the white wolf’s shoulder. The beast howled in pain, snarling and turning to face another small squad of guards coming from the ugly, crooked little trees that grew sparsely around the house. “Go on! I’ll hold them.”

The young lord standing beside her growled and she whimpered as he tightened his grip upon her arm; was he a wolf as well? Her blue eyes stared up at him with terror, though he seemed to be ignoring her almost completely. It struck her then, all the legends and fables that had peppered into her ears since she was a girl. “Oh my god,” she breathed in a barely audible whisper, “you’re aeterni.”

He made no comment back if he had heard her, suddenly grabbing the cowl of her cloak and yanking it down over her head. His feet were nimble and far faster than hers as he found speed upon the sand, dragging her into the shadows around the house without warning. She stumbled, unable to wring herself free from his grip and barely able to keep up as they drove into the thickets, sandbriars and snagging branches snatching at her face and cloak. Behind her, the sounds of morbid snarls and human cries made her heart pulse in fear and her feet run faster. The sounds faded but his pace never slowed, maintaining stamina that could never have been human.

It made sense now, his features, abilities, even his attitude. Different things were said of the aeterni nobles depending mostly on who told the tale. Some were said to be good, generous beings that would help commonmen in times of need. Others were depicted as greedy, malicious old spirits with hearts of the coldest stone, caring only for their castles and jewels and powers. But even those tales seemed a hundred years old. The aeterni were quiet now, and had been so for many years. When the Men of WestSea came, the spirits hid behind the stone walls of their castles. Eliondia had never been a warlike country. There had never been any guards or soldiers to keep the cities’ walls. It had been an effortless battle for the Men of WestSea; Eliondia had been an easy prey. It had never sat well in her mind that the most powerful beings in their country did nothing to stop the tyranny that now rained down from the royal city, Casdania. Whether the aeterni had hidden themselves away in fear or simply in a lack of interest, it did not seem right in her mind.

Her breath was snatched from her lungs as he thrust a strongly-hewn arm around her waist, lifting her into an enormous leap that cleared a deep gorge obscured by the thickets. No mortal man could have made such a leap, but he glided over it with an effortless grace, bearing her along as if she were weightless. The force of their landing knocked the wind from her again and she found her feet back upon the earth. She kept the pace well for as long as she could, but as the sun began to peer above the horizon before them, she found her strength spent and began staggering behind him clumsily.

Livi tripped and fell face down upon the earth, finding it strangely soft and moist to her weary touch. There was no smell of sea or salt and no feeling of grit or sand. Her head swooned with fatigue as the young lord stooped over her, as a predator examining his kill, staring over her body with silent unsympathetic stares. He made no face or expression that could be seen in the dull twilight as he reached down to lift her from the dirt, holding her small frame with an arm beneath her legs and back.

His stride was strong and smooth, a steady walk over the loamy soil. The suffering shrubs of the coastline had begun to give way to small trees, younglings by the way they whispered to him eagerly in their private tongues. He paid them little heed, keeping his pace constant and never stumbling over the jagged terrain. The sun soared up against the horizon, throwing off rays of gold and vibrant red against the purple of the fading night sky. Ahead, a thick tree line loomed close, its presence demanding against all other features of the landscape. He stared at the forest with the fires in his lime green eyes rekindled; he would feel much more at ease once they had crossed its border. Royokan forest remained a constant piece of Eliondia not even the Men of WestSea could tame. The forest was ancient, wild with magic that was as old as the mountains, and the trees knew him as they had known the prior generations of his bloodline. It would be some comfort, at least, to have their ears on his side.

His lithe feet moved faster, anxious to reach the forest’s bosom before the day had fully broken. The constant whisperings from the youngling trees made his head ache and he bade them to be silent. The sun ground its way into the sky, pressing down upon his cloaked back with relentless heat. Looking up to the forests dark release, he strode faster, jostling her a bit to hold girl-child closer. She grumbled something sleepily against his chest, arms coming up to wrap around his neck. His face twisted, resisting the urge to drop her or fling her away, and he huffed before looking ahead and pressing onward without comment.

Author's Note

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