Chapter Twelve: Restoration

Chapter Twelve: Restoration

            Carsten’s eyes were still firmly shut, and he was holding his breath. Finally, when he could no longer, he let the air out in an explosive gasp and opened his eyes. To his shock, and everlasting delight, he saw that the sword sheath was empty. The sword had slid out of it without any resistance, and he was holding the weapon in his hand. The dragon’s golden eyes were full of a light that resembled satisfaction.

            “So,” he hissed. “It is not so steep a test after all. Someone finally drew that blade.”

            “Finally?” Carsten echoed. ‘What do you mean?”

            “Twenty knights have tried to slay Invac,” the beast replied. “All of them failed miserably. Ten tried to draw that sword to no avail. You are the first man to beat Invac’s challenge. So, to show that I respect my word, I will give you the staff, as I promised, and the sword as a gift for a worthy warrior.”

            “That-that is all?” Carsten stammered. “No anger? No torrent of fire?” The dragon shrugged its massive shoulders.

            “Why?” It hissed. “It is of little import to Invac whether or not you take the staff. The sword is something Invac came across in a night raid on some orcs that had attacked a Huntress scouting party. They took it as a trophy, though they did not enjoy it long. You and your friend may go. Invac wishes you well.” Carsten nodded, strapping the sword to his side.

            “About that…” he said, pausing. “How exactly do we get out of here?”

            “The same way you came in,” the dragon answered. Thomas, coming out of the shelter of the stalagmite, sighed.

            “I was afraid you would say that,” he groaned. “That will not be an easy climb.” Carsten shrugged.

            “There is nothing for it,” he replied. “We have to make the climb.” The staff was actually quite easy to find, once Invac told the duo where to look. Aderach’s staff was not impressive to look at; the wizened blackwood shaft looked like it had seen better days, and the gemstone that was embedded in the tip was pitted and dusty. As Carsten wiped the dirt away, he found himself staring into a deep, luminescent purple surface. The stone was surrounded by branched growths that made it look as though the weapon had continued to grow around the gem at its center.

            “Not truly extraordinary, is it?” Thomas remarked. Carsten shook his head.

            “No,” he answered. “Even so, it must have some value. Deyann would not be after it otherwise. Now, we should go. Every second we spend standing around is one second less that she has to live.”

            Outlands

            Edessa was examining Arcaena, and she did not much like what she was seeing. In the days since they had set out, the dark elf’s condition had rapidly deteriorated. The wound sites had turned purplish-blue, and Edessa could clearly see the black spider-ends of the veins beneath the skin. Deyann saw the Huntress examining the injured girl and knelt down beside her.

            “How is she?” He asked. Edessa shook her head.

            “Difficult to say, beyond that she gets worse,” she answered. “She still has not awoken.” Deyann nodded.

            “Then we must hurry. The black veins indicate that she is running out of time.” Rolf, who was sitting some distance away and trying in vain to start a fire using the wood that they had gathered, looked up.

            “How far are we, then?” He asked. Deyann reached into his belt and rtook out his map, which he consulted.

            “About a half a day’s hard journey,” Detann replied. ‘We did make good time.”

            “About the cave network,” Rolf said, finally managed to get the flint and tinder to spark. “What should we expect?” The pther dark elf sat down on the wet ground, his eyes lowered.

            “A lot of things,” he said. “First, there are the tunnels. You will have to stay close to me if you do not wish to get lost. In there, no one would  ever find you body, even if there were someone that cared enough to look. Then, there are the animals.”

            “Animals?” Edessa echoed. “What animals?”

            “I call them bloodseekers,” Deyann told them. “They are like a cross between a wolf, a bat, and a basilisk. They have a venomous bite and large wings, and they use the sound of their own screams to navigate the tunnels.”

            “Any weaknesses?” Rolf asked. Deyann nodded.

            “They are extremely sensitive to loud noises, a side effect of their echolocation,” he explained. “Even hitting two rocks together hard can deafen one of them temporarily. A louder noise might even knock them unconscious.”

            Edessa raised an eyebrow. From the sound of this, she thought, we all might get killed on the way to save one life. “Is that all we will face?” she asked, half-mockingly.

            The dark elf shook his head. “No. There are also the ripper grubs, which are the larvae of a bloodsucking moth that lives in the caves. The grubs actually consume raw flesh, and they tear their victims apart to get to it.”

            “How?” Rolf asked.

            “Their hides are heavily spiked,” Deyann said. “They are quite resilient to slash attacks, though thrusts can penetrate their hide.”

            “Will the moths attack us?” Rolf asked. Deyann nodded.

            “They attack anything living that enters the caves,” he said. “They are quite vicious when they move in droves. Although they are little larger than the size of a plate, the insects are deadly in swarms.”

            “Anything else we should know?” Edessa asked. The dark elf shook his head.

            “Nothing comes to mind,” he answered. “Any other questions?”
            “How will we deal with the grubs and the moths?” Rolf queried.

            “Fire or light,” Deyann replied. “They fear bo th equally, as they have never seen daylight.”

            They both nodded. “Should we do anything special in preparation?” Edessa questioned.

            “There is not much you can do,” Deyann told her. “I would recommend a good night’s rest as the first thing.” Rolf reached into his pack and started uncurling the bedroll.

            “I will take first watch,” he said. “Edessa, would you take the second?” She nodded.

            “That leaves the third for me,” Deyann finished. “All right, then. Off to bed we go.” He threw dirt on the fire, and then curled up to go to sleep.

           

            Dawn came early the next morning. In fact, Deyann was not even halfway through his watch when the sun crested the trees. Edessa and Rolf did not need rousing, as they had been lightly dozing even before morning broke on the horizon. They ate and packed up their campsite with remarkable efficiency, having finished with their work in less than an hour of waking. This morning, Rolf agreed to carry Arcaena, and Edessa offered to help. However, the gray-haired man turned her down.

            “I can do it,” he said. “You should rest after lifting her for all of yesterday.” The Huntress bristled at that.

            “What are you implying?” She asked. “I can carry her just as well as you.”

            ‘I never said you could not,” Rolf answered. “What I said was that you need the rest. Are you really going to dispute me?” Edessa opened her mouth to argue, but she closed it again as she reflected further on what her friend had said. In truth, she did feel tired. Although she could not explain the fatigue, she knew that she indisputably felt it.

            “All right,” she said. “If you need help, you can ask me. You know that, right?”

            “Of course,” the gray-haired man answered. “Help in need is what friends are for.”

            Outlands

            Carsten and Thomas had pushed on through half the night, although it was not Carsten’s idea, ironically enough. The black-haired dwarf had suggested that they do so, and his friend had readily agreed. When they finally stopped, Carsten had rapidly constructed a campfire from deadfall wood, with such speed that even Thomas was impressed. They ate mostly in silence, until Carsten decided to ask the question that had been dominating his mind.          
            “Why did you agree to accompany me?” He asked.

            “Pardon?” Thomas asked.

            “Why would you leave the prison with me, and now help me in this besides?” Carsten queried. “You must surely hate me, or at least not like me.”

            “Why?” Thomas said. “Because of your family.”

            “Well…yes,” Carsten said. “You of all people should know why, and you would have good reason.” The other dwarf sighed and looked at the piece of meat he was cooking on a sharpened stick over the fire.

            “In truth,” he said, choosing his words carefully, “I liked you when we first met. You had a fire I recognized. Your stubborn will to survive and the concern that you had for your only friend in the world touched me, as well. I could see that you were intimately concerned with even my life after you got to know me. When Issavea told us who all of the others were, it really did not matter.”

            “Why?” Carsten asked. “My great-grandfather…”

            “Stop talking about your ancestors,” Thomas snapped. Then, calming down, he said. “Listen. There are people on both sides who do not want the old feud to die, and many of my closest kin are among them.”

            The other nodded. “I know the feeling. My aunt is still bitter about what the Huntresses did to my grandfather, and she blames your family ultimately for what we go through every day.”

            Thomas looked at the other, a strange fire in his eyes. “Understand something, Carsten. I know what your family did, and it was horrible. Arden killed his own son and destroyed your family’s name. Worse, he carried Gunnar into the deception with him, making his treachery far worse. Even so, you have to remember why he was driven to those desperate straits in the first place. He brought his case to the Council of the Free, but he was ignored. The Ravenwings pressured the council to turn a deaf ear to what he had to say. When he decided to take action on his own, despite the Free’s oath of neutrality, they told him ot either return or be declared a belligerent.”

            “What do you think you are telling me that I do not already understand?” Carsten asked.

            “This,” Thomas said. “All of that was Arden ot his son. None of it was you. You come centuries afterward, a child with neither experience nor firsthand knowledge of these things. Your family might have done these things, Carsten, but you are not them. You do not have to be Arden any more than I have to be my father. That was why I decided to help you: I saw cooperation as a chance for peace. Besides, feuds have to end sometime. Who better to end an enmity between families than two fast friends?” Carsten met Thomas’ eyes.

            “Do you mean that?” He asked. The other dwarf extended his hand.

            “I do. What ever happens, I want you to know you are not alone, as long as I have strength. If you ever need me again, never hesitate to ask. Ever.”

            Carsten took his hand, and he felt a surge of happiness as he did so. Outlander and Free, united by a common goal and friendship. It was a good sensation. Then, Thomas took out his bedding and unfurled it.

            “Well,” he said, “we need to get some sleep. Dawn will wait for no man.”

            Outlands

            Cave Network below the Demon’s Teeth

            Next day

            “Well,” Edessa remarked, staring at the cave entrance, “the Demon’s Teeth lives up to its name.” Rolf eyed the shadowy cavern before him.

            “I think I have had my share of underground journeys,” he said. “Is there now faster way, or at least oen that does not involve darkness and caves?” Deyann shook his head.

            “Not a one,” he replied. “You must come with me if you want to help your friend.”

            “Speaking of,” Edessa said, “Should we not at least wait a bit for Carsten and Thomas?” The other dark elf shrugged.

            “If you wish to do so,” he remarked. “All the same, I think speed might be of the essence.”

            “We wait twenty minutes,” Rolf said. “Maybe twenty-five. Even so, should they not reach us it time, we must go in. Arcaena’s life depends on it.”

            They all found rocks around the cave to sit upon. Edessa busied herself by checking the fallen dark elf over once more. While she had not improved, the Hutnress could also plainly see that she had not grown much worse in the day that had elapsed.  That being said, she knew that her friend did not have much time left; perhaps two days at most. While the leaves that she had given the dark elf to treat the poison kept the girl on her feet for longer than she would have otherwise stood, Edessa knew that they did not forestall the eventual result of the toxin for any longer. Rolf took out one of his knives and began to sharpen it with a steel that Deyann had given him, while their guide built a small fire and lit a torch from it. Five minutes passed, and then ten, and then fifteen. By the time twenty had, Edessa was already losing hope that Carsten and Thomas would make it before they entered the tunnels. When she looked up, though, she saw that she was wrong, and she felt a rush of happiness. A good distance away, she could see two small, dark figures straggling their way across the plain. As they crested a rise, she could see that the shorter of the two was holding a long, awkward-looking item in his right hand. She knew it was Carsten; among other things, Thomas was taller than his companion by about three inches. Not many among men, but a good bit among dwarves, since inches count when one has few to start with.

            “There they are,” Rolf said. Looking up, Deyann smiled, though he looked quite surprised.

            “They have the staff,” he remarked. “The two of them managed it after all.” Edessa stared sidelong at him.

            “If you though finding a stick was a difficult task to set before them, you underestimate all of us.”

            “So it would seem,” the other murmured. Then, he stamped out the fire and gestured to Rolf. “Pick her up,” he said. “They will be here in a few minutes.”

            It took Thomas and Carsten ten minutes to cross the plain, although none of the others minded much. Once they reached the cave opening, they both stopped moving and collapsed, panting heavily. After he had caught his breath, Carsten handed Deyann the staff.

            “There,” he said. “One wizard’s strange walking stick, as ordered. Are you satisfied?” The dark elf took the artifact and examined it closely. After a long while, he nodded.

            “You did well,” he replied. “Thank you. Now, come with us and stay close. It is easy to get lost in the shadows.” And, raising the torch, Deyann led the way into the yawning, black mouth of the cave.

            The first thing that struck Carsten about the place was the comparative smallness of the tunnel. Invac’s cave had been massive, so large that literally hundreds of side passages branched out from it. Further, it had a sharp decline that dropped the unfortunate travelers directly into his treasure hoard. This one extended not down but rose steadily into the mountains, and it was claustrophobic to the extreme. More than once, Carsten jostled someone, and he lost count of the times that another traveler did the same to him. Their progress was slow, agonizingly slow, but they kept stolidly on. The oppressive shadows skewed Carsten’s sense of time, although he was vaguely aware that much time had passed since they had entered the cave. He also was semi-cognizant of the tunnel gradually opening wider, as people stopped bumping into him or tripping over one another’s feet. While they spread out a little more, not one of them lost sight of Deyann’s torch. Although Carsten and Thomas had not been present for his exposition on the variety of unpleasant beasts that they could expect to face, they had learned from their experience in Invac’s lair that caves were not at all nice places to be or spend extended periods of time.

            The cavern’s widening continued, to the point where they found themselves walking through a more hall-like passage, and Carsten thought he might be able to discern faded carvings on the walls. Further, the stone of the roof appeared to be worked as well, and a few of the floors’ stalagmites might have once been pillars.

            “So, what is this place?” He whispered to Deyann. Although he believed Invac’s account, he wanted to hear the dark elf’s story and see how it compared.

            “The dark elves’ first Temple of Rebirth,” the other answered. ‘This was the place where the rift between light and dark first began. And it was here that it exploded into war. The light elves’ king defiled our sanctuary, and my ancestors went to war to restore both our honor and the debt of blood he owed us.”

            “And the pool?” Carsten asked.

            “It was one the center of worship for all,” Deyann explained. “When unity was complete, and war had only been whispered as a rumor. The elven king dared to defile its waters, and so it was hidden from the world until the time when the restoration of peace is nigh.”

            “And do you believe it is?” Rolf asked. He was nearby, and had been listening to the conversation with interest. The dark elf peered into the darkness.

            “I have always believed that a day will come for us, but I know not when,” he told them. “Also, I believe that the world is at its darkest before the best of times. I may be wrong, but I am hopeful that it is truly the case.”

            Carsten shrugged. “Either way, we need to find the pool. How much farther do we have to go?” He asked.

            “About three more hours,” Deyann replied. “But we should be careful. If we are not, those will be the longest three hours of your life.”

            “Why?” Carsten asked.

            “Because these caves are now home to some of the deadliest creatures in existence,” Deyann replied. “Lower your voice, by the way. They will hear us coming otherwise, and you would most likely rather not fight your way through a horde of ravenous bat-monsters.”

            Though the incline had risen slowly in the beginning, it did not do so now. Instead, it now inclined sharply, although not quite as steeply as the one in Invac’s lair. Snow, as in the dragon’s voluminous abode, Carsten could see numerous side passages branching off, but he could clearly see that some of these were occupied. Great black shapes hung from the ceiling, by appearances asleep. A low, rhythmic hissing noise could be heard issuing from these caves as well, indicating that the beasts were most soundly so.

            “Bloodseekers,” Deyann whispered. “Be very quiet, and move as slowly as possible.” The others nodded mutely and did their best to walk as slowly and quietly as they were able. As they did, Rolf began counting the bat-like things in the tunnels as they passed. After only ten side passages, he was up to a count of seventy and climbing. Carsten noticed him doing this and wondered why exactly he was. Knowing numbers would do him no good if the animals decided to attack. Still, they showed no signs of waking; the travelers seemed able to void them without incident. Then, of a sudden, they were out of the side-cavern-riddled corridor and in a vacuous subterranean chamber before them. What they saw took their breath away; at the very center of the room was a circle of carven stone, cracked and falling down, but still possessed of a forlorn regality. Behind the circle, Carsten saw a steeply inclined stone ramp, down which a torrent of water was flowing. Concentrically extending stone steps descended into the pool. There was an intricately detailed archway halfway between them and the stone ring, with holders for torches in it. Deyann slid their light source into one of these and gripped Aderach’s staff with both hands.

            “Are you ready?” He asked Carsten. The dwarf looked at him.

            “Deyann, I heard…from someone that those who enter the pool needlessly will suffer the curse that the son of the high priest placed upon it. He told me that those who enter the water without need will never feel anything physically ever again. Is that true?” Deyann sighed and met Carsten’s eyes, his own glowing with a curious light.

            “It is not the case,” the dark elf replied. “The curse affects the unworthy differently depending on who they are. If you are afraid to enter the waters with the dark elf, you do not have to. Nevertheless, I cannot. As I will be performing the ritual using the staff, I will be required to be outside the water.” The dwarf watched as Rolf lay Arcaena’s limp body down on the stone floor. The sight of it instantly decided him as to what he was going to do.

            “All right,” he said. “Prepare your magic. I will enter the water with her.” And, so saying, he lifted the dark elf and slowly made his way to the edge of the pool. Deyann joined him, placing the head of the staff directly inside the stream of water pouring from the crevice in the roof. Closing his eyes, he began to chant in an unknown language. Hearing this, Carsten began to slowly descend into the water, making sure to keep Arcaena’s head above it. Soon, he was in up to just above his waist, with the disturbed surface of the pool gently lapping against him. Deyann continued to chant, but Carsten noticed that nothing was happening, or so it appeared. The thought had no sooner crossed his mind than he saw the head of the staff begin to glow brilliant violet. The luminescence pouring from the gemstone by far obscured the comparatively faint torchlight, and the waters seemed to take on that same indigo color. In almost an instant the glowing mass reached the pool, and the light spread like dye in a glass of rainwater. It soon enveloped Carsten and Arcaena, although Deyann continued to speak in that same monotonous chant. The dwarf watched Arcaena’s face carefully for any sign of waking. As he saw none, his eyes went to her wounded shoulder. As he expected, nothing had happened there. Suddenly, the other dark elf’s chanting reached a crescendo, and Carsten suddenly felt the world explode in agony. The purple light grew to a blinding radiance, and the pool’s waters began to hiss and gurgle. Looking at his friend now, he saw to his astonishment that the wounds that she had suffered were gone, erased. It was as though she had never been shot; in fact, he could already see color returning to her cheeks. The few seconds that they had been in the pool had been seemingly enough for her to heal completely. Even the brand that she had received in the prison was removed without a trace. As for himself, he braced for the searing loss of sensation in his body, knowing that it would come. As the thought crossed his mind, he felt a twinge of sadness, and yet he was strangely comforted to know that the last thing he would feel was Arcaena close to him. He closed his eyes, preparing for the inevitable. But it never came; instead, he heard a loud sucking sound, followed by the sudden absence of all pain except for a pinpoint burning sensation on his right wrist. Opening his eyes and looking around, he now understood why the agony had vanished. The water around him was gone, and he saw that he was standing on the still damp stone bottom of the pool. Around him, in a torrential ring, stood the waters of the Pool of Creation. They had parted as though repulsed from him by an invisible force.

Slowly, he turned and carried Arcaena out of the pool, feeling a strange tingling warmth in his limbs. As he set her down, he noticed a curious orange light emanating from the sheath of his new sword. But that was not what caught his eye; rather, it was the same luminesce coming from his wrist. He removed his armored glove and looked in shock at the appendage; there, in the flesh, as though burned into it with a hot iron, stood six runes. They were old, far older than Carsten, but he could still read them. It was a single word, and he stared at it in disbelief. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and he knew it was Thomas.

“You did it,” the other dwarf said. To Carsten, his voice sounded remote, far away. Even so, Carsten could not help but experience a warm, buzzing sensation as he realized he could feel his friend make physical contact.

            “She is healed and will recover,” he heard Deyann announce. “Fear not; all is right, as it should be.” The red-haired dwarf nodded approval.

            “All is right,” he repeated in a whisper. Then, without warning, his knees buckled and he passed out.

           

            How long he slept, Carsten neither knew nor cared. He drifted freely in and out of a variety of dark and bright dreams, never staying long enough to truly understand any one of them. Still, underneath the turbulence of his mind, he was partially aware of a warm undercurrent, a thread of hope and light in the midst of even the darkest visions. What it was he was never sure, but he knew that it was there. After what seemed to him like several lifetimes, he felt the haze lift slightly, and he tried to rise. It came far from easily; to him it was like clawing his way out of a filled-in hole with his bare hands. Still, he pushed on, trying with all his might to rise. Suddenly, the catatonic miasma cleared, and he was awake. He sat bolt upright, breathing hard. His mind whirled with so many thoughts and questions that he did not quite know where to begin or what to wonder about first. Looking around, he realized with a jolt that he was inside Deyann’s home, sitting on his bedroll in the exact spot he had slept that night before he set out with Thomas into the wilderness. If indeed he had set out at all; now that he though on it, it seemed like such an incredible series of events that they almost certainly had to be fiction. Although, looking down, he did notice one curiosity; he was no longer in his armor, instead wearing a red leather jerkin and trousers. To his surprise, his feet were bare. Where did my boots go? He wondered. I certainly did not remove them. I never take them off to sleep.

            “Well, look who finally woke up,” a voice said from behind him. Turning sharply, he saw a sight that set his heart racing for sheer happiness: Arcaena, alive and whole, sitting on a raised cot. She was no longer wearing her leather and scale armor; instead, she was now clad in a simple, ankle-length green dress. Looking at her bare arms, Carsten could plainly see that she bore neither scars nor mark of injury. Indeed, she was healed, and she looked much better for it. He was certain now that what he remembered was no fantasy; this was far to vivid not to be real

            “Arcaena,” he said, “You…you…”

            “I am alive and whole,” she said, finishing the thought he had not quite been able to verbalize. Then, in an abrupt change of subject, she said, “You must be hungry.” The dwarf shifted in his bedroll; now that she mentioned it, he really did feel the need to eat something.

            “I am,” he said. “I could really use some food.” The dark elf nodded and went over to a fire burning in the corner. Atop Deyann’s small hearth hung a large pot, and something could be heard bubbling inside it. Dipping a spoon in the mixture, she ladled something into a small bowl and brought it over to him. On her way, she grabbed another, smaller wooden spoon for him to eat with

            “Corn porridge,” she said. “It might not be the best think you ever had, but it is certainly nourishing, and it warms you up almost immediately.” Carsten immediately began eating, happily wolfing down the concoction. After eight months of prison food and several weeks on cold bread, a warm porridge mixture was about the best thing that could happen to him. He finished the bowl in less than a minute and went to fill himself another.

            “Where are the others?” He asked as he spooned more mush into his bowl. Arcaena shrugged.

            “Rolf and Mycal had something they needed to discuss with Deyann and have been gone all morning. Thomas and Edessa are busy exploring Haven, and they said they would not be back for some time.”

            “You know,” Carsten remarked, “this is a good place. I would not mind living here at all. It seems like one of the few places in the world where you are truly at peace.”

            “I know,” she replied. “And from what I heard, you could use a little peae.

            “What do you mean?” He asked.

            “Thomas told me about Invac, about the pool, about all of it,” she said. “He also said that you knew everything about what would happen before you went into the waters, and that you volunteered to take me into them.”

            Carsten nodded again. “I did. But it was not so bad; after all, I can still feel everything just fine. The curse seems notto have affected me.” Arcaena walked over and sat down beside him.

            “I can see that now,” she said, “but you did not then. You could not have known about the sword’s gift. For all you knew, you could have been sentencing yourself to quite the ascetic existence.”

            “What?” Carsten asked. “What gift? And what do you know about that sword?”

            “The binding spell on your sword is tied to the virtue of its wielder,” she said. “Only those who act in purity of heart, without deception, are worthy. And that is similar to the spell placed on the Pool of Creation. If you are worthy enough to withstand the one, you are capable of surviving the other. And I saw the sword in your pack. I know everything about it.” Carsten looked down, pondering this.

            “I see,” he answered simply. They were both silent for several seconds as Carsten ate the last of the mush in his bowl. Then, he took the dish and set it down next to a bucket of water, where Deyann had told him to stack his soiled utensils and eating vessels. This done, he came back and sat down next to Arcaena, although a respectful distance away. “How are you feeling?” He asked.

            “Alive,” she replied, smiling impishly at him. Then, she lapsed into silence once more.

            “That is all you have to say?” Carsten queried. “Forgive me if I find that somewhat difficult to believe.”

            “What then shall I say?” Arcaena returned. “I have survived, but to what purpose?”

            “Come again?” Carsten said. “What do you mean, ‘To what purpose’?” The dark elf sighed, biting her lip before she answered.

            “When I was unconscious,” she began, picking her words judiciously, “I had a lot of time to think, or at least dream.”

            “And?” Carsten prompted.

            “I…” she lowered her eyes. “I realized…I realized that I had missed opportunities in life. Things I wanted to do, but never did. Words I wanted to say, but had never dared.” Carsten nodded.

            “I felt the same whenever I watched you sleeping,” he replied. “In all honesty, I wanted so badly to keep my promise, and I feared that I might never be able to do so.”

            “Promise? What promise?”

            “My promise to tell you why I was upset,” he answered.

            “I see,” Arcaena said. “And you want to tell me now?”

            “Yes,” Carsten said. “I wondered if you would give me the chance, and, thank the Maker, you did.” He took a deep breath, and then decided to say exactly what was on his mind. His father’s words echoed in his thoughts. Be honest, Carsten, he had said. It may seem unpleasant for a time, but you will never do wrong by anyone if you tell the truth when they ask for it. “All right,” he said. “Here it is, as simple as can be. I love you, Arcaena Blackfire. I was unwilling to confront the fact simply because I was scared of an attachment due to being confined together for so long. But I was wrong; when I saw you get hit, the full import of losing you struck me. For the first time in my life, I was truly afraid.”

            “Of what?” She asked.

            “Of the thought of living without you,” he answered. “Even outside prison, your compassion and care for others showed. You did not hesitate to sacrifice the last reserves of your magic to save Edessa’s life, and you never once looked back on the decision. You are a phenomenal woman, Arcaena. That is really all I have to say. I know you probably do not return these feelings, but you have a right to know. A promise is a promise.” For a moment, she was speechless; everything about him suddenly fell into place. His reticence around her, his general silence. Carsten was afraid to speak because he was afraid of saying the wrong thing and offending her.

            “And you were upset because you though I might know?” She asked. He nodded miserably.

            “I was so deathly afraid of you finding out because I did not want to hear what you might say,” Carsten answered. “I am sorry; I should have told you outright long ago.”

            She smiled at that and, reaching over, laced her fingers in his. Then, she put her fingers under his chin and slowly raised it until he was looking her in the eye. “You should have told me,” she informed him. He opened his mouth to say something, but she put a finger to his lips. “If you had,” she continued, “I might have been more comfortable saying this: I love you, too.” And with that, she leaned forward and kissed him. For a few moments, he was too surprised to anything, but she felt him briefly return her embrace. The contact only lasted seconds, but Arcaena felt even warmer when she pulled away. Carsten looked at her, his eyes looking curiously like he might suddenly start crying. Oddly enough, he looked how she felt.

            “Do you really mean that?” He asked in a hushed voice. She smiled again.

            “With all my heart,” she answered. “Now come on. I already explored the town, and I found an amazing place to watch the sunrise. Care to join me?” He returned the grin.

            “I would not miss it for the world,” he answered. 

Author's Note

Note grammar errors, mechanics problems, and plot holes. Positive feedback is appreciated but not required.