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Chapter 152:
Finding Safety
Near the window to the balcony, a stray guard stood in the way of the captain. Blood gushed from his body, but he refused to move until he was struck one final time.
“Gah!” A stray guard fell to the ground with a thunderous thud of his heavy armor. Blood gushed from the heavy wound in his neck, cradled by his bloodied hands. As the dying man looked over the figure stepping over his cooling body, his left hand slowly trailed out as he choked on the seeping blood from his lips.
The tall man, still holding the bloodied sword in his hand, stopped and fixed his gaze downwards, on the paling man, who had yet to fall still.
“Y-you…” The man’s choking voice soon faded as the color left his eyes, making his body fall limp into a pool of blood in the final hall of the palace, next to the window Holland and Beau prepared to escape out of. Holland already had been outside, preparing their exit, but Beau swiftly took care of the last guard and lingered in the hall, full of a deafening silence.
Holland held a line of rope in his hand, brushing his calloused hands over the coarse rope as he stared towards Beau, who seemed to be stuck in an odd daze. “You ready to leave? Or do you have anything left to say to him?”
“No.” Shifting his foot away from the growing puddle of blood, Beau lowered his head as he vaulted through the window, his expression cool. “He’s the one that locked me up in the prison in the first place. I feel no pity for him.”
“Ah.” Holland said with a pause. “Glad he’s gone then, eh?”
Captain Laurent failed to respond immediately. He only could look forward, his gaze falling on the setting sun, feeling the chill of the approaching fall air linger in the mid-summer air like a humid weight. “Let’s go.”
Using the rope Holland had attached to the side of the palace outer wall, the pair scaled down the highest point, maneuvering the scattered dead bodies and rotting flesh with dexterity, avoiding all simple battles with ease. Once they completed their exit from the palace, Holland and Beau narrowly escaped the guards arriving at the outer walls of the palace, assisting the current troops with reinforcements to hold back the rebels. If the palace were to lose the palace, the monarchy would crumble, and Malcolm’s troops would be sent like lambs to the slaughter regardless of the outcome.
They would have to leave quickly to avoid being swept up in the mess.
Running through the open space near the wooded cover of the forest, Holland and Beau attempted to keep their presence as small as possible, avoiding the wandering eyes of the bloodthirsty guards that had begun their slaughter in the palace.
The pair dashed towards the thin forest line, away from the direct line of fire from the distant battle in the palace courtyard. “Do you think they kept the initial reinforcements low to take care of the rebels?” Holland asked Beau, watching as the newly approaching knights began to slaughter the visible rebels not far from their previous position.
“I don’t doubt that the rebels will have to retreat.” Beau said, running as he added, “But it seems that the palace will take heavy losses in this battle.”
Holland hummed thoughtfully as his feet slowed, moving to a fast jog, “You must be happy you’re no longer in the palace. If you were, that may have been us fighting.”
Beau’s pace slowed to match Holland’s. “I would have left the palace long before that.”
The sound of battle dimmed slightly, but the smell of blood still lingered on their clothes, bringing a heavy dampness around them. Inside the shadow of the thin wooden cover, Holland’s pace continued steady, as if he did not smell the blood splattered on his clothes at all. “After this is all over, what are you going to do?” Holland suddenly asked, his tone far more serious than before.
Beau thought for a moment, his silence biting as he finally said, “I haven’t thought that far. After Malcolm banished me, I thought of returning home, but I don’t think that would be wise now.”
“Why don’t you join me then?” Holland laughed, saying without much thought, “I could use someone to help me on missions, and Eva’s got her hands full here.”
Hearing the other man’s words, Captain Laurent felt as if he had not cleaned his ears in far too long. Pausing, his mouth slightly ajar, he asked again in a surprised tone. “Join you? On missions, you mean-”
Raising a brow, Holland looked annoyed, “I said what I said. The offer is yours, but-” Toying with the handle of his sword, Holland smiled his usual mischievous smile, flashing the sharpened edges of his canine teeth. “Don’t be surprised if you try to betray me.” Staring at Holland’s playful expression, there was an air of simmering darkness lingering in the space between them.
Awkwardly, the air fell silent as the two continued their hastened run, their breaths even. It was not until Beau spoke that the silence broke, shattering the wall that began to form between the two men. “I think-” As the words left his mouth, a sudden bitter taste lingered in Beau’s mouth, making him ponder for an extra moment what he just said. “I’ll take you up on that offer.”
Only a moment would pass before Holland’s face, contorted between surprise and sarcasm, fell. “Hey, there’s some more over here!” The voice of a Yursinean guard rang out not far from where Holland and Beau had started running from, catching them off guard.
Beau and Holland stood up in unison, throwing a look over their shoulders as they hastened their pace away from the bush they had stopped in only a moment earlier. “Get ready to run!” Holland laughed, the sound of approaching enemies growing closer as they began to run as fast as their bodies could carry them. Arrows flew in their direction from behind, scattering in all directions without a clear path, only knowing that more people had evacuated to the forest.
Their partnership had just begun.
…
Nearly two days had passed with the children in tow, and exhaustion was already beginning to wear down on the group of six. The cart was only maneuverable for so long, and once the group was tired of the damp manure smell, they abandoned the cart and took the horse with them, beginning their long journey on foot with two small, exhausted children.
“Brother, I’m hungry.” Eloise said, tugging on her brother’s shoulder with an exhausted pout as she whined tiredly, resting on her brother’s back. “I don’t want any more berries.”
We can’t travel much farther like this. The children's condition will only worsen without a proper place to settle down. Silas thought, staring over at Eloise, who was riding Clarence’s back with an exhausted expression. They’ve never left the palace for so long before, and having to do everything by themselves must be difficult for them. We’ll have to stop and find some food soon.
“Don’t worry, we’ll find something to eat soon. Get some rest for now.” Clarence coaxed in a gentle voice, attempting to help his sister avoid the hunger pains until they could stop.
Watching Clarence's gentle demeanor, Silas smiled. “You’re a good brother.” Silas said with a light smile, staring at Eloise, who had begun to fall asleep on Clarence’s back. He held her legs with his arms, keeping her in place as her head lulled on his shoulder in a natural fashion.
Attempting to hide the flush on his face, Clarence turned to the side as he said, smiling, “Thanks, Silas.” He paused, thinking of something to say in response, “
At the front of the line, Maeir led the horse by the lead, allowing Julian to sit on the horse’s back with their meager supplies. The queen walked by her son’s side, near Maeir, her expression full of weariness and unexpected patience. Silas kept his gaze forward on his mother during the journey, afraid the queen would say something sour, but he was surprised to see the two women getting along as normal, surprising him.
“The children will need to settle down soon. This river up ahead should be a good place to stop.” Motioning forward, Maeir gestured to the river as the queen walked by her.
Queen Racliffe, holding Julian’s hand with a light squeeze, replied directly, “I think that’s a good idea, Maeir. How are you, Julian?”
Julian, tired to the point of wobbling while standing, stood up straight at the call of his name. “I can keep going, mother!” Even Silas could see the fatigue in the child’s form, but they said nothing, nearly slowing their movements to a stop as they approached the river, preparing to set up camp.
Silas and Maeir surveyed the area, making sure it was clear before they allowed the queen and the children to enter the space. The river was shallow but wide, and the soft current would be gentle enough for the children to play in without sweeping them down the river. “Silas, can you pass me a blanket? Eloise is still-” The prince stepped forward, approaching Silas as he spoke, but the abrupt sound of a snapping branch pulled everyone from their relaxed state.
Maeir held up her arm, stopping Clarence suddenly as she stared forward, holding her sword with hostility. “Who’s there?” She barked, staring into the empty forest with a glare that could stop a wild animal cold in its tracks. Her sword was already in her hands, pointed in the direction of the breaking twig.
With the sound of the weight lightening on the twig, a figure, hobbling slowly, stepped forward with a set of wide eyes. Surprisingly, it was an old human man, his pale skin full of liver spots. His back was hunched like a shrimp, and the cane in his left hand kept him steady from falling to the ground. The man, aged with stringy, short hair, appeared as if he would fall over with a steady gust of wind. “I’m sorry to disturb you-”
Everyone fell quiet, and Silas and Maeir stood protectively in front of the queen and the children. Clarence stepped back, protecting his sister with a fierce expression.
“My granddaughter and I are about to have a meal, soup and salad. If you’re hungry, we would happily welcome some visitors.” The old man said cautiously, neither approaching nor retreating. “You’re welcome to join us. Our village is friendly to elves”
Continuing the awkward silence, the man, grunting as he turned his course, facing sideways. “I’ll be going then, this way.” With that, the man began to hobble away, nearly expecting the group not to follow him, but Maeir’s heavy gaze lingered on the children and the weary queen before she finally shook her head and said lightly, “I don’t think we have a choice at this point. Come on.”
“What? Are we really following him?” Silas whispered, asking his mother in a quiet tone. “Can we trust him?”
“I think it’s worth trying. We can overpower him if we need to” Maeir said after a moment, looking at the old man, his back nearly hunched to his waist as she turned to the queen, who had approached as the old man spoke to them. “Ecaterina, what are your thoughts?” She addressed the other woman directly without any discomfort, passing the horse lead to Julian to keep an eye on her sword.
“If you believe him,” The queen held her hands together in front of her waist, her expression full of thought as she spoke quietly to Maeir, “Then I trust you to keep us safe.”
Hearing the group steadily follow behind him, the old man said over his shoulder, “My home is in the nearby village. No one will bother you there.” The man walked slowly, his cane thumping against the ground in a leisurely fashion, as if he were unconcerned for the wary group behind him. Maeir led the group, walking some distance behind the old man, as Clarence walked towards the back with his mother and brother, still holding Eloise on his back.
Their anxiety was high, but the thought of a warm meal and sleep made everyone feel a pang of wanting, forcing them along as if they were bound at the wrists. Something about the old man’s lackadaisical pleasantness made them crave what he offered, even if it were a farce.
As they approached the nearby village, the darkened sky began to dim the surroundings, making it difficult to see the entirety of the area under the shadow of the large trees. However, it was obvious that the village was small, nearly hidden in the cover of the natural scenery and the large river blocking the main path. The old man, though slow, crossed the river using the stone path that had been established by the villagers. It was narrow, nearly slippery, but the group walked carefully and made their way across the path and to the grassy gates of the village.
“Please don’t worry about the other villagers. They’re probably having dinner in their homes about now. They won’t make a fuss” The old man said in his wheezy, aged voice, smiling as he stopped and spoke, addressing the group as a whole. “My home is just this way. We can discuss your travels over dinner, if you would like.”
Maeir’s gaze had already coldly scanned the village, and as the old man spoke, Maeir listened carefully, finally answering with a short. “Thank you.” No threats were openly presented in the village, but the atmosphere was enough to warm Silas and Maeir’s hearts in a way that reminded them of home in the old elven village. As wary as they were of following the strange old man, there was an air of harmlessness that made it difficult to leave him.
Near the front of the village rested a large, wood cabin. The home had smoke billowing from the clay chimney at the side of the home. The windows were covered with thin curtains, making it difficult to see inside, but the smell of food was enough to tempt Julian forward, who stared at his mom with anticipation, letting the lead of the horse free. The horse meandered away to a nearby patch of grass, chomping away as Julian breathed in heavily through his nose, savoring the scent of freshly cooked food.
“Mom, are we going to eat?” He asked in a hushed voice, embarrassed.
Queen Racliffe held his hand in her own and nodded slowly. “We’ll see, Julian.”
“Here we are.” The old man pushed open the front door of his home with a light tap of his cane, announcing himself before he turned to the group and smiled, exposing his yellowed smile. “Come inside. There’s someone I want you to meet.”
Silas turned to Maeir, waiting for her to step forward before he quickly followed, preparing their weapons in case of a looming ambush. Maeir lifted her hand and waved it towards the queen, holding the group back with mouthed words, “Stay here for a moment.” Clarence, holding his sister on his back, wanted to follow Silas, but thinking of his sister, he reluctantly stayed back, watching with a worried frown.
Entering the home, the floorboards creaked under the weight of Maeir’s steps. Her gaze fell over every surface of the room until it fell on something near the table, almost stopping her cold in the doorway. Inside the old man’s large, aged home sat a child. The large dining table was full of different foods, prepared with various vegetables and other common ingredients. Only two plates were prepared, however, leaving a feeling of fullness when staring at the large feast on the table.
“Niran, come here for a moment.” The old man said, waving his fingers towards his palm, smiling as the small head hidden by the large dining chair began to move. As the child turned around, the small group was surprised to see a small pair of elven ears on the sides of the girls head, nearly hidden by her head of long, straight black hair. Her skin was dark, too dark for her to be a forest elf.
“This is my granddaughter, Niran.” The old man said proudly, patting his daughter on the shoulder with his hand. “She’s an elf, just like you.”
“Your elven granddaughter…” Maeir held her surprise and stated, stepping forward, “She’s a mountain elf.”
The old man smiled, patting his granddaughter on the head as she stared at the strange guests in awe, her gaze fixed on their pointed ears, much like her own. “Before I lost my son, I promised to take care of Niran and any other elves that graced my doorstep. Just like me, the villagers here will help you any way they can.” Moving his hand, the old man moved to sit down at the table, his joints creaking as he sat down on the chair near the front of the table. “She’s lived safe in this here village since the day she was born. Her father wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.”
“Is this why you’re welcoming us?” Maeir asked directly, her eyes flashing with understanding.
“I overheard your conversation in the woods, and once I saw those children with you, I knew you wouldn’t cause trouble.” The old man began, moving his cane to the side as Niran continued to stand, moving closer to her grandfather with cautious movements. “It’s unsafe to travel with children right now, with the kingdom in turmoil.” The old man frowned. “But our village is far removed from the kingdom. All we want to do is live a peaceful life, and we are happy to welcome those who seek the same.”
Queen Racliffe stood not far from the door, faintly hearing the man speaking as she stared through the door, still standing with her son. Clarence stepped forward, motioning for his mom to follow as he entered the room, coaxing the awakening Eloise down from his back as his mother stood by him, staring at the elven child with surprise.
“Truthfully, Niran has never met another elf.” The old man slowly moved towards the dining table, standing by his granddaughter as he said, “I promised my son that I would protect her, which includes protecting those just like her as well. You are safe here.”
The old man sat at the table, resting as Niran quickly helped grab five more plates to cover the table. She smiled toothily at Julian as she placed the plates on the table around the large dining table’s edge, patting the seat next to her with an excited expression. Queen Racliffe stared at the girl, perplexed, but she said nothing as she urged her two children to sit down. Eloise, still sleepy, clung onto Silas’s arm as they joined the old man around the table.
Clarence, staring at his sister, felt his gaze grow cold, feeling jealous of the skinship his sister could share with Silas. Fortunately, Silas’s other side was open, and he sat next to him with natural, but fast, movements. Maeir kept her eyes forward as she sat next to the old man, watching him as he began to serve the food onto the children’s plates first.
“I prepare extra food for each meal for travelers and villagers alike. Please, help yourselves.” He smiled, placing a plate of fresh, simple salad and buttered bread in front of Julian, who looked ravenous. Maeir watched the food being served, waiting until the children had their plates before she touched any of the food items.
The old man, noticing Maeir’s reluctance, made himself a plate, taking a little bit of everything before he began to eat, nodding towards Maeir with a knowing look as the children began to feast, ignoring their mother’s calls to wait. They ate ravenously, as if it was their first meal in days. In truth, it was the first hot meal they had eaten since they had left the palace, and Eloise had tears in her eyes as she tasted real butter for the first time in weeks.
“Silas, don’t forget to eat.” Clarence said warmly, passing a plate of food towards Silas. He noticed the empty plate in front of Silas, who was too busy ensuring Eloise did not choke on her food. Taking the plate, Silas thanked the prince.
“Thank you, Clarence.” Silas took a small bite to appease him. The prince, watching Silas take a bite, felt pleased with himself.
The old man chuckled to himself. “Just like my wife and me. How sweet it is to be young.” He mused, embarrassing Clarence until he was red in the face, causing the queen to frown disapprovingly. “To love is to be treasured.” Silas, feeling some of the prince’s embarrassment, sipped at his soup, enjoying the mellow taste of the minestrone soup.
The meal was full of scraping silverware and lifted plates, filling everyone’s stomach’s until they were nearly bursting. Something felt warm about the old man, and a lingering sense of safety lulled everyone into a sense of calm that was nearly forgotten during the war. It was addictive, like the sweet scent of lilac on a spring morning lingering at the tip of their nostrils.
The plates were cleared from the table and placed in the washbucket, left to be cleaned later as the old man looked towards his granddaughter, who was nearly squirming in her seat to get to know her new friends. “Niran, why don’t you play with the other two children?” The old man suggested, urging the children to play in the small courtyard. “I believe we adults have some things to discuss.”
While Julian and Eloise were somewhat reluctant, Niran’s energy was infectious, and soon, the two children were taken outside by the young elven child, nearly dragging them as she babbled on about her favorite toys, and how much they would love her secret hideout.
Once the children left, Silas did not wait as he pulled Maeir aside to speak with her outside, his expression full of heavy emotions. As they stepped out to speak in private, trailing off towards the river from which they came, Clarence followed them, looking between his mother and the old man, who looked as if he had something to say to his mother. With a direct nod from his mother, he walked to follow the two elves, his expression full of concern.
The room fell empty, nearly silent before the old man spoke again. “While I would help any elf that graced my doorstep, today’s guests are far more special.” The old man reached out his aged hands, holding the queen’s delicate hands in his own as he smiled lightly and said, “You didn’t recognize me, Queen Racliffe. I’m surprised.”
The queen froze, feeling the old man’s hands in her own as she responded, “You… What is your name?”
“You used to call me advisor, Your Majesty.” The man bowed his head, his spine creaking as he attempted to lift himself with difficulty. “Ten years have passed, so I can’t say I’m surprised you don’t remember.”
…
Standing outside with Maeir, Silas stood in the grassy clearing by the river on the edge of the village, staring over his shoulder as he asked, “How long do you think we’ll stay here, mom? Do you think we’ll be safe here?” Having traveled for so long, having no place to rest their heads as a proper home, it was beginning to take its toll on Silas. He craved the stability of a single place to sleep, no longer worrying of falling asleep and waking up with a sword in his face.
“Eva’s troops are currently invading the palace, and Malcolm has troops all over the kingdom searching in the meantime. It would be best for us to settle down for a while. The children are too young to stay on the road like we have, Silas.” Maeir spoke wisely, staring at the queen’s children wearily trailing along with Niran as she stared at the small gates of the village. “For now, let’s settle in on the outskirts of this village and lay low for a while. There’s nothing better to do than wait.”
As Maeir’s words fell, she noticed Silas grow quiet, his face flushed red with sadness. “I-” Silas began, but his words fell quiet as his mouth slipped shut.
Seeing the despondent expression plaguing her son’s face, Maeir stepped forward, holding her son’s hands in her own aged grasp as she said, “What’s worrying you, Silas?” His hands faintly trembled in her grasp, betraying the calm expression he attempted to keep on his face.
Thinking of what had happened to the village he had grown up in, Silas’s heart hurt, searing in his chest. “I’m worried that, if we stay here, this village will-” He paused, letting out a shaky sigh as he shook his head, unable to finish his words.
Releasing her hold on Silas’s trembling hands, Maeir opened her arms and took her son into her arms, resting her taller son’s head on her shoulder as she patted his back. “I would have never brought us here, you here especially if I thought for a moment we would be unsafe, Silas. Something about this feels different. Call it an old woman’s intuition, but something feels right being here.” She paused, lifting her hand to wipe a stray tear from Silas’s face before she said, “I want you to know, you are safe.” She pulled Silas towards her again, bringing her sobbing son in for a tight hug as she patted his head, stroking his hair. “Do you understand?”
Wordlessly, Silas nodded his head, hugging his mother as he cried, the stress and fatigue of their arduous, endless journey taking its final toll on Silas.
In the distance where Silas’s sobs quietly fell, Clarence stepped out from the house, hearing the faint whisper of distress from Silas’s voice. Feeling the scent of mana shifting, the prince stood in the doorway, staring at Silas, whose eyes had already grown red with tears as he spoke to his mother. His nails dug into his palms, and he wanted to walk to Silas’s side and comfort him, but he knew he was the source of his pain.
He could never properly comfort him. Not as he was now. Saying sorry won’t change anything. I have to prove to Silas that I can be forgiven. He shook his head, attempting to keep his emotions from affecting his own mana. He should not have to cry like this. I should be the one supporting him. I need to work harder. He had to step away, before his emotions and feelings of inferiority affected Silas.
Turning around, Clarence walked away from the door, his own face full of grief, failure, and torment of his own past self. If he could take it all away, the hurt and pain he had caused, even for a moment of reprieve for Silas, he would gladly do so, but Fate would not allow him to play such tricks, and he could only savor the pain as he did when he found joy in harming Silas in the very palace he was twice rescued from by him.
Standing under a nearby tree, out of earshot from Silas and Maeir, Clarence felt tears falling from his eyes, pooling around his cheeks like burning coals. His tears fell quietly, his breath even, but the pain he felt seared his chest in a way that made him feel breathless.
“Dammit.” He uttered, feeling the light breeze of the turning night kiss his face like frozen scales, brushing against his warm cheeks. Wiping away the tears, the fabric of the coarse clothes made his cheeks itch, and, staring at the wet sleeve of his tunic, Clarence could only think one thing.
Crying was truly cathartic.
…
If you see a typo, ignore it. This has been a work in progress for two weeks, taunting me on 3 different laptops. Fuck me ahaha I apologize for disappearing so suddenly. My health was slipping, and I had to make the sudden call to take a break for my own sanity. This was a hard chapter, but I feel like I've tapped back into what I want from YMtK, including the writing style I want to see in YMtK, the flowery, nonsensical whimsical shenanigans that make my cold heart all warm and fuzzy >y< This chapter reminded me a lot of past events in my life, so maybe it was cathartic for me as well ;u;
I'll try to be as regular as I can. I am up to 4 classes a week now at my store, so I am often switching between Japanese and English more than I thought. My translations are also doing well too, so I'm trying to decompress. Though, people keep trying to test my Japanese skills at my studio, people who don't speak Japanese ... Bah, I'm so confused. They need to come in for a class apparently....
Hopefully, I will see you all next week! I feel like a plot weight has been lifted. Next chapter needs bed snuggle cuddle time ASAP! ==;
