The Dark Side of Power

Last Until Mourning

“A letter, Prince Tadhg. It’s from your brother.”

Tadhg’s expression darkened as he snatched up the envelope and tore it open, eyes scanning the letter. “Thank you, Awen, that will be all.”

Awen lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, mind racing. It had to have been something serious for him to have dismissed her so abruptly, but she couldn’t think of anything, she just kept replaying it over in her head. Of course, anything from his family would be serious, and more so if from his brother rather than his father. But that only made it worse.

Could it be his father? Or, perhaps Queen Caoimhe, his mother… I remember her to have been prone to illness once she had her youngest. Maybe… Maybe I should check if he’s ok? Would he tell me if he wasn’t?

She only realised once the sunlight started spilling through her window that she’d managed to stay up all night thinking about it.

“Awen! Sun’s up!” Lanz banged on her door, rattling the lock.

She sighed softly, rolling over and filling the tub in the corner of her room for a quick wash.

Am I supposed to just go about my daily tasks? Do I ask if he’s ok, or do I leave him be, or… Is he ok?

Awen snapped back to reality, detangling and drying her hair in seconds, realising then that she’d practically removed the top layer of her skin with her washcloth, and grimaced at the raw skin. She’d have to put some cream or something on it to stop it from hurting, but the sleeves of her dress should cover most of it. Plus, the bandage on her hand should be enough to distract people.

“Lanz? Can I get some kind of lotion or something please?” She spoke softly, but knew he’d be listening anyway; Lanzijm normally did when it came to Awen.

Sure enough, he was at her door a few moments later, calling for her to let him in.

She opened the door, still only in her linen shift.

“You’re not dressed?”

“Needed this first,” Awen explained, taking the jar of pink whatever that he’d brought, applying a thin layer to the skin she’d scrubbed raw.

“Oh, what did you do?”

“I was just distracted, scrubbed half my skin off. It’s just a little sore, don’t worry. No broken skin or open wounds or anything. Well, except…” she waved her still bandaged hand.

“How is it?” Lanz carefully took her hand, unwrapping the cloth and gauze.

She shrugged. “Not too bad, actually. I’m surprised that none of the healing spells is working on it though.”

“Hmm. Most of the furniture here is basically magic-proof, which could be why. Or, maybe, you’re just tired and your magic is showing that?” He smiled softly as she rolled her eyes. “I know. Here, I’ll let you get properly dressed before I re-dress your hand.”

Awen smiled softly, closing the door after him. He wasn’t wrong, she was tired, and it didn’t help that sleep kept evading her thanks to the Prince. But she was still concerned; it was too out of character for Prince Tadhg to dismiss her so abruptly without reason for it to be ‘fine’.

“Hey, Awen, Sion says we’re being summoned to the Throne Room,” Lanz called through, “something’s happened in Oce.”

Thought so.

She quickly slipped into a blue dress and layered a couple of glamours to make herself look slightly more presentable and less like she hadn’t had any sleep for several days. “Ok,” she said, emerging from her room, “let’s not keep them waiting.”

“I’ll dress the cut again when we get back here.” He looked down at the exposed wound on her hand.

“It’s ok, it’s not really noticeable, and anyway, I’m not sure anyone is going to be paying attention to my hand, not with whatever has happened in Oce.”

He hummed, leading her down the hall. “Sion said it sounded serious.”

Awen grimaced. At least now I’ll know what’s going on with Prince Tadhg.

Rolling her eyes, she reprimanded herself for even thinking she had a right. She could feel Lanzijm’s disapproving looks on her as they walked into the Throne room, but she kept her eyes glued to the floor, even as she curtsied at the royal family already present.

“Lanzijm, Awen. Please,” Emyr spoke in a grave tone, gesturing for them to take their places at the side of the room.

Awen looked around the room quickly, making sure not to make any sort of eye contact with anyone. Whatever it was, it was certainly serious; the whole of Elyn’s Council had been called, including Prince Tadhg stood by his sister's side, head bowed and brow furrowed. She looked away quickly, not wanting him to catch her staring, and looked instead to Elyn, trying to figure out from her expressions what was going on.

Eventually, Rhiantona walked through the doors, and, once she took her place by her father, King Emyr addressed the room.

“I’m sorry to have called you all away from your day so suddenly, and so early, but I’m afraid we received some rather grave news yesterday, and again during the night. Queen Caoimhe of Oce has been taken seriously ill. Prince Rhodri and Princess Elyn will be travelling there in an hour, along with Prince Tadhg and any other members of Princess Elyn’s council who would like to join their party.”

Awen’s breath caught in her throat, eyes darting to Tadhg before away again. She could feel Lanzijm beside her, moving slightly closer to her, and knew he could feel her worry and anxiety.

“Anyone who would like to go, please be ready and on the forecourt in an hour. Lanzijm, Awen, could I see you for a moment?”

The two looked at each other for a second before obliging, making their way through the crowd of people making their way out of the room. “How can we help, Sire?”

“King Llyr and Princess Elyn have both requested for you to accompany the party to Oce.”

Awen froze.

“I… I’m sorry, King Emyr, I don’t quite understand. Do they not have physicians in Oce?”

Emyr sighed softly, “they do. But Princess Elyn isn’t… I don’t think she’s ready to give up yet, and she knows you’re one of the best healers known.”

“And… me, Sire? Why have they requested me?”

Emyr shifted his gaze to Awen, who was tactfully avoiding eye contact. “Where Lanzijm goes, you go. I’m not sure I could send one of you to another country without the other without some sort of consequence. I said they take both or neither.”

Awen nodded, biting the inside of her cheek to stop a smile.

Lanzijm nodded. “Sion will always be able to reach us in an emergency.”

“Don’t worry about that, just focus on what you can do to help Queen Caoimhe. If you can do anything, I mean.”

Lanzijm nodded. “Thank you, King Emyr.” He bowed, and Awen followed suit. “We’ll be on the forecourt in an hour.”

**

The castle of Oce was bigger than Awen remembered, and a lot darker. Though she supposed that could have been because of the reason they were there.

Princes Rhydyan and Allun were there to greet them, quickly instructing their servants to show everyone to their rooms.

Awen felt more out of place than ever, even though she knew Oce was a safe haven country, sticking by Laanzijm’s side through the general madness.

“Suavis? Are you ok?” he asked quietly, making sure no one else could hear.

“Mhm. It’s just a little…” She didn’t have to finish that train of thought; he already knew what she meant.

“It’s ok. I’ll be here by your side the whole time.” He pulled her closer, placing a protective arm across her shoulders, and followed the Oce servant up to the attics where they were staying.

“So, Awen, this here is your room, you’re sharing with Meira. I hope you don't mind.”

Awen shook her head, clutching her bag so tightly that her knuckles were white.

“Lanzijm, if you follow me I’ll show you to the men's corridor.”

She watched as he disappeared down the hall with promises of returning for her in a few minutes. Sighing, she opened the door, finding it bare of Meira’s things. She was probably having to attend to the Princess. Awen looked across the room, unsure which bed Meira would prefer, so she left her bag on the cabinet, deciding to leave that to her.

“Awen?” Lanz stood in the open doorway. “Are you ready?”

“For?”

“I’ve been sent for, to attend to Queen Caoimhe. I said I’d keep you by my side, I meant it.”

Awen smiled softly, nodding. “Ok, let’s go. Oh, I might see if I can find Meira, and bring her things up if she needs; she’s probably too busy looking after Princess Elyn.”

Lanz nodded, leading the way down the maze of halls. “Sure. Wow, this place is more confusing than home.”

Smiling, Awen closed her eyes and raised a hand, creating a glowing map of the castle with a tiny blue dot. “Here, this should tell us where we’re going.”

“How… what is that?”

“A glow map. Witches can create them of places they’ve been before if they’re not sure where they’re going. It uses buried memories to create a path.”

“You’ve been here before?”

“Once, when I was a very young child. My mother was here to see the late Queen, I don’t remember why.” She shrugged. “Here, down this way.”

Lanzijm wasn’t sure how to respond to that beyond portraying his general confusion on his face but followed her through as she navigated the map and the maze of halls. It didn’t take them long to reach the Queen's chambers, where the whole Oce Royal family - plus Prince Rhodri - were gathered around her bedside.

Awen stood in a corner out of the way, trying to take up as little space as possible while Lanzijm got to work assessing Queen Caoimhe and trying to come up with anything that would help.

“Awen!” Someone whispered, and she looked around to see Meira a couple of feet away.

She made her way over. “Meira, I was hoping to find you in a bit. We’re sharing a room, did you know?” Meira nodded. “Did you need me to bring your things upstairs? I know you must be busy with Princess Elyn.”

“Oh, do you mind?”

“Not at all. Which bed did you want, by the door or by the window?” Awen discreetly used her magic to pull Meira’s bag towards her.

“I’ll probably be in late, so I’ll take the one by the door so I don’t disturb you.”

“Are you sure?”

Meira turned to Awen with a small smile, meeting her gaze. “You know I’m used to witches, right? My neighbour when I was a kid was a witch. She was lovely.”

Awen blinked, breaking eye contact.

“What I’m trying to say, Awen, is you’re not a second-class citizen. Not to me, and not here in Oce. You might have to get used to it a little more while you’re here, especially considering you’re not the only witch in the castle.”

It made sense that the Oce Royal family would employ witches, considering their relaxed laws, but hearing it was very different to presuming it. Awen smiled softly at the thought but quickly wiped it from her face. “I’ll bring this up for you and be right back. If Lanz asks…”

“I’ll tell him. Don’t worry, you’re safe here.” Meira smiled, and though Awen looked for any sign that it wasn’t, it seemed genuine.

Awen knew it was going to be strange to be universally accepted and treated as an equal no matter how long she stayed there. Not that she was treated badly by the Ostarian Royal family, but she wasn’t treated as Lanzijm or Sion were, especially not by the people in the village.

It was a short walk back up to her shared room, placing Meira’s bag carefully on the bed closest to the door. She looked at her own on the cabinet, and smiled softly, taking it and placing it on the other. Looking out of the arched window, she wondered how long they would be guests in Oce, how long she’d have to be so far away from… well, the comfort of familiarity.

Noticing how long she’d been away from Lanzijm, and knowing he’d worry if he noticed she was gone, Awen rushed out of the room, pulling the door closed behind her and skipping a couple of steps on her way. She reached the door just as Lanzijm walked out, in deep conversation with King Llyr and Prince Rhydyan.

“King Llyr, Prince Rhydyan,” Awen gasped, dipping quickly into a curtsey.

“Yes I- Oh, Awen, I presume.” King Llyr turned his attention to her. “Yes, Lanzijm was just telling us how you’re vital to his work, as his assistant when his protege is too busy.”

Awen nodded, keeping her eyes trained on the grey stone floor. “Yes, King Llyr, I help out where I can when I’m needed.”

“I'd assume, given your magic, that it would be most of the time, no?” Prince Rhydyan smiled softly, trying to catch her eye.

“Well, I- Sion, Lanzijm’s protege, he is a warlock, Prince Rhydyan, so even that is not always in short supply.”

Rhydyan laughed, “I suppose. But, then, a witch’s magic is very unlike a warlock’s. Especially in a country like Ostaria.”

Awen looked up at him, slightly shocked at his remark, only now noticing that Lanzijm and King Llyr had departed to carry on their intense conversation, no doubt about the Queen’s condition. “I… I suppose, Prince Rhydyan. But I suppose a country that has survived without the help of witches for nearly a hundred years doesn’t mourn the loss. Not anymore, at least.”

He laughed, “I suppose you’re right.”

Awen smiled softly, before remembering the customs of Oce and curtseying to the Prince and taking her leave. It had taken her a few weeks to truly get used to the customs of Ostaria when she first arrived, and she suspected that they’d be leaving Oce before she got the chance to do the same again.

Rhydyan smiled softly, before walking past her, rejoining his father and Lanzijm, who’d stopped a little further down the hallway.

Awen looked after him for a second, smiling to herself a little; she’d not seen before how Prince Rhydyan and Prince Tadhg could be related, as they couldn’t look more different, but now it was plain as day. He’ll make a fine King, someday. She thought to herself as she joined the group, no longer anxious about eye contact, but still not used to it.

“Ah, Awen, there you are. Lanzijm here was just asking about you being able to go to the town for him, for supplies. Are you familiar with it?” King Llyr turned to her.

“I’m sure I could find my way, King Llyr.”

“Hmm. I’ll send someone with you. Then, if you need to go again, you should know better where you’re going. Does that suit you?”

“Um, yes, that’s perfect, King Llyr, thank you.” She glanced at Lanzijm, who watched on with a small smile. “When did you need me to go?”

“I can make do with what I brought with me until tomorrow. I don’t want you out after dark, Suavis.” Lanzijm smiled, though Awen could swear she could see a hint of Nox in there somewhere.

“Well then, I shall find someone to accompany you after breakfast.” King Llyr smiled sadly, returning to his wife’s chambers along with his heir.

“How is she, really?” Awen whispered as the two of them watched the door close.

“Worse than I could have imagined.” He grimaced. “I need to get a couple of things from my bag upstairs, but I’ll be back down shortly if you don’t mind going to the Queen. Maybe you could do something to help ease her pain?”

Awen nodded, watching as he disappeared up the staircase, before finally braving the dark room. The Oce Royal family were still crowded around Queen Caoimhe’s bedside, the king holding her hand as he watched her carefully, her children each coming to terms with the fact that this could quite possibly be the end for their mother. “I’m sorry, could I get round?” She spoke quietly, but in the silence, it felt like she was shouting.

Wordlessly, the family moved to let her in, and she took Lanzijm’s place by the Queen’s bedside, stifling a gasp; now she could see Caoimhe up close, it truly was worse than she could have imagined. Awen just hoped she lasted until the morning.