The Order of Elysia

Chapter 14- Symphony

Lilly tugged her cloak tighter as she stepped between the circular forest surrounding the city; the afternoon light drifting in slivers through the canopy. It was quiet and she welcomed the calm. She had received the assignment from Warden Chesterlain after her last healer’s lesson, a session devoted to the art of wound cleansing, to collect a handful of herbs and natural remedies that the White Hands could not cultivate themselves in their gardens. It was a welcome reprieve for Lilly, as she had grown weary of the ceaseless noise in the barracks and the lack of privacy and she really needed some time to clear her head.

Her satchel bounced lightly at her hip as she knelt beside a crooked root and began working at a patch of flaky bark with a small iron scraper. "Virel birch.” she murmured to herself, recognizing the pale, veined texture. "Three handfuls should do.”

Lilly moved forward through the narrow path in front of her, her boots soft on fallen leaves and damp earth, her satchel already half-filled with samples. Her mind was still trying to wrap itself around the fact that she had received a glyph- one she could not train and around the horrid things Rurik had said to her during their encounter.

The forest stretched outward in concentric rings around the city walls, mostly wild but gently shaped by generations of cautious hands- a place half-cultivated, half-forgotten and she liked that.

A beetle skittered into view, its shell reflecting a hint of green-gold in the light. As Lilly crouched to look at it more closely, something darted across her peripheral vision, small, quick, vanishing into the underbrush with a faint rustle and the snap of a twig. She turned her head instinctively, alert for a heartbeat, then let out the breath she’d been holding.

It was a chunky, red squirrel with a bushy tail and panicked movements. Lilly watched the spot where it had disappeared for a few seconds longer than necessary, then returned to her task without a second thought. Squirrels didn’t bother her, what unsettled her was how little she actually understood about what Rurik had referred to.

She stood up again, brushing the bark dust from her gloves and turned back toward the winding path, just as a shaft of sunlight broke through the canopy above and struck her eyes. The sudden brilliance made her blink, the world flashing white for a moment before resolving into shape again. And yet… something about the scene before her looked ever so slightly distorted. She squinted, shielding her eyes, but the sunlight shifting through the canopy dazzled her vision and by the time it cleared, the blurriness - if it had been anything at all - was gone.

She adjusted the strap of her satchel, exhaled quietly and continued walking without looking back. There was something she needed to do and her trip to the woods, being alone with her thoughts for an hour or so, had made her realize that there was no point in waiting any longer.

After days of playing Rurik’s words from their last encounter in her head, not knowing where to put them, Lilly finally found the courage to speak to her friends about her father’s execution and to ask them if they knew anything about it. For the months they had been on the island, she had held back the questions that burned in her soul, afraid of the answers she might receive, but she could ignore them no longer.

Raven had insisted that she had never paid much attention to such talk and had hardly heard anything about the incident, but Alaric seemed to know significantly more. He told her cautiously, as if afraid Lilly might break at his words, that her father had been accused of passing secret information to Zarvath, their neighboring empire, which was considered high treason. In the weeks after the execution, a gruesome witch hunt followed. Worried that there might be more spies among the nobility, the entire court and many other influential families were put under harsh scrutiny. It had gotten ugly and dozens of executions had followed the one of Lilly’s father.

Lilly knew that for decades, there had been a non-aggression pact between Solendris and Zavarth, held firm by the Emperor-King’s late father, but since his passing, about fifteen years ago, the situation between the realms had become more and more tense. Zarvath was known for its different usage of the Veil as it allowed the freedom of magically researching even the darkest branches of magic. Whispers said that Zavarth even sheltered outcasts and criminal glyph-bearers from Solendris, whose practices had been forbidden in the Realm and it was said that Zarvathian’s were heretics, who prayed to the wrong gods or didn’t even pray at all.

"It triggered a chain reaction. When they started with the interrogations, they found things they were not even looking for and during their investigations, they uncovered secret agreements, shady dealings and they arrested several people for secretly wearing glyphs that were too powerful, or outright forbidden.”, Alaric proceeded.

Even though Lilly still didn’t understand what her father knew that could have been considered treason, it began to dawn on her why so many people despised him for it. She knew that, in Solendris, glyphs were considered sacred conduits of the Veil and their mastery was meant to be carefully guided and monitored, either by the Order or another institution authorized to do so by the Empire. Healing and passive abilities were often seen as "harmless" enough to study independently and most glyph-bearers across the empire never received formal training. No one interfered as long as a glyph’s effects remained weak, inconsistent or mundane. A girl conjuring flickers of light in a village square or a boy sensing someone's emotions wasn’t worth official notice, but if the power grew, it had to be kept under control. Forbidden glyphs were out of the question- one like the one Fereth’s friend had worn. Lilly shuddered at the memory of how he had died and of the cold, hollow sensation that had crept over her as he drained the life energy from her at the funeral.

Bravely, Lilly listened to what Alaric told her and asked her questions to better understand what had happened. Others had lost their lives because of her father and if what Alaric said was true, the scandal that had been sparked by him had not only shaken the highest ranks of the Empire, but was the reason why the number of stationed units at the western border posts had been increased- expanding militarization on both sides.

Had everyone been right, saying that her father had acted shamefully after all? Had he really passed valuable information to the enemy? But the conversation slowly faded when Lilly stopped asking questions, realizing that the remaining answers she seeked, were not ones Alaric could give her.

In the following days, the melancholy in Lilly’s expression was unmistakable and so Raven persuaded her friend to make a stop at one of the small taverns near the Plaza one evening after training. Even though Lilly was in no mood to drown her sorrow in alcohol, she knew the alternative would be lying on her cot, the blanket pulled over her head like a tent, trying to hold back tears as she attempted to sort through all the terrible things she had learned. Alaric had to decline, as he was working on a transcript for the Chroniclers that he’d been asked to complete, so Lilly trudged after Raven through the cool, autumn evening air toward the inn.

The tavern was packed to the brim with Order members from every domain, but also civilians who lived on the island had taken the end of the day as an opportunity to have a drink. In one corner of the inn stood a small stage where three musicians- a lyre player, a drummer and a singer- were cheerfully performing. They were singing a song about jolly Anselm, who survived his adventures through sheer divine luck. Thick clouds of smoke filled the room, stinging Lilly’s eyes as Raven pulled her over to one of the booths that had just gotten free.

The inn had a cozy, worn-in charm. Its dark wooden beams were hung with faded banners from old campaigns and the hearth fire blazing near the bar radiated warmth. Jugs clinked, laughter rose above the hum of conversation and the scent of roasted meat mixed with smoke and ale hung in the air.

It didn’t take long before a brunette innkeeper with a round figure and generous breasts, laced tightly upwards, appeared at their table. She was as cheerful as the lively song still echoing through the room as she took their order. Raven didn’t give Lilly the chance to choose for herself, as she ordered two glasses of honey rum for them both.

They small-talked while waiting for their drinks, as Raven chattered more than usual, asking about Lilly’s training and complaining in mock frustration about what a b***h Warden Neachtain was. Lilly responded with a tired smile, grateful for the distraction, but just as Raven was starting to mimic the Wardens’ condescending attitude, Freya appeared beside their table and beamed brightly at the two of them. Without asking, she slid into the booth, onto the bench next to Raven, playfully, but gently pushing her to the side.

"You two don’t show up here very often.”, Freya began to chatter. She seemed cheerful and Lilly wondered whether she had always been tense before or if she was especially relaxed today.

"Do you come here often?”, Lilly replied, having no problem with Freya joining them, quite unlike Raven, judging by her expression.

"Sometimes, I come here with Konrad and Gavin.” Freya answered, nodding toward the other side of the room, where both the lanky Konrad with his ponytail and Gavin, a dark-skinned, curly-headed, stocky man who had already accompanied Freya on the ship, were sitting.

As Lilly was just about to turn her gaze back to Raven and Freya, she noticed another familiar face in the tavern, watching her closely. One table over from Konrad and Gavin sat a handsome, aloof man, a dark strand of hair falling into his face. Lilly flinched when their eyes met, as she didn’t know what the look meant.

"Warden Thorndale is here.”, she whispered to the two women sitting opposite to her, who quickly turned their heads to find the Warden sitting at a table with two other men, who were both wearing leather armour.

Lilly’s cheeks flushed in anger at the thought that he had issued her a citation for helping a comrade, yet she couldn’t help but get momentarily lost in his face for a second, nevertheless she thought about how glad she was that he didn’t know about her glyph.

Her gaze tore away from his intimidating stare when Freya whispered to her: "I’d stay out of his way. They say he’s the bloodhound of the High Sovereign.”

Raven laughed, but her laughter was swallowed by the chatter of the other guests and the music. "Bloodhound? Why would the High Sovereign need a bloodhound?”, she asked with a sarcastic tone clearly directed at Freya.

"To do the dirty work.”, Freya replied, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Raven didn’t raise an eyebrow and she didn’t shrug her shoulders this time, but seemed to let what Freya had said, sink in for a moment.

"You know, when someone has to die, or someone just has to clean up the mess. I heard that even the Sovereign fears Thorndale’s strength, his illusion magic is incredibly powerful and his combat skills are almost as impressive. They say he spent the past few years working in the field, on some important missions and was stationed in Volgard for the months before he came here. Apparently, he came to the island specifically to lead the Pathseekers, after the previous Archwarden died unexpectedly.”, Freya added and Lilly’s mind immediately wandered to the Disciple Thorndale had killed after his siphoning glyph had manifested.

Her gaze flicked back to the Warden and a cold shiver ran down her spine. She had heard how he had broken a Disciple’s neck and he seemed to take a liking to Rurik’s cruel behaviour, otherwise, he wouldn’t be giving him extra training, but the thought that he carried out the dirty work in the name of the Order unsettled Lilly even more.

Thorndale was still watching her and she wondered if the expression in his eyes was one of vigilance, as if he was just waiting to catch her doing something wrong so he could punish her. Lilly forced herself to focus on the honey rum in front of her, which had since been served and it didn’t take long before Freya called over her friends, Konrad and Gavin, to join them. At first, Raven seemed a bit tense about their new companions, but after the third glass of honey rum, she managed to let go of the tension a little.

They played a game where they, one after the other, had to come up with a backstory for a person in the tavern that they all picked out together, then they went up to that person to find out whose guess had been the closest. The game was lighthearted, carefree and exactly what Lilly needed. Together, they laughed, clinked their glasses and let the outside world fade away. The drinks loosened their tongues, the laughter grew louder and as they challenged each other with increasingly ridiculous stories, time seemed to slip by unnoticed. The Warden’s attention had long gone back to his companions and Lilly gave him as little attention as she could, though she did glance over at the man a few times, to check whether he was prying on her again.

After her first honey rum, Lilly had switched to pear juice and therefore noticed how the others around her became more and more drunk. Konrad was truly a know-it-all, but the ale he was drinking helped him loosen up a bit. And Gavin? Gavin was an exceptionally attractive man with roots beyond the border, clearly visible due to his smooth, dark complexion. He was in great shape and stood at least twenty centimeters taller than Lilly. At their first meeting, Lilly had assumed he was probably one of the dull types, since he hadn’t said much and when he did, it had been all about axe fighting, but how wrong she had been about him. He was eloquent, intelligent, well-spoken and had a charm that made Lilly laugh more than once over the course of the evening.

She also noticed the way Raven batted her lashes when she talked to Gavin and Lilly chuckled inwardly as she watched her twirl the end of her long, black braid between her fingers whenever Gavin gave her his attention. Lost in thought, Lilly stood up and headed for the door that led to the small courtyard behind the inn, where the outhouse for guests was located.

The yard was lit by a handful of large lanterns, but aside from the little hut and two towering oaks, it was empty. She just made her way toward the little outhouse to relieve herself, when she noticed a figure next to the oak on her left, someone she hadn’t noticed before, hidden in the deep shadow cast by the tree. Lilly froze on the spot, trying to make out who it was, but it was too dark. The dense branches of the oak blocked out the light from the lantern.

"Who’s there?”, she called out, but her stomach clenched at the thought that it might be Rurik. He hadn’t reported her for shooting him with the bow, even though she had spent days expecting punishment by the Order or at least a confrontation with him, but nothing had happened and part of her was unsettled by that- as if he were waiting for the right moment to let her pay the price of her actions. No one answered, but instead of turning on her heel and running, Lilly took a step closer.

"I can see you.”, she called out.

The figure stepped forward and Lilly recognized instantly that it was the Warden. s**t. Lilly flinched, instinctively stepping back, but Thorndale, who was now fully illuminated by the lanterns, kept approaching. She didn’t dare turn her back on him, so she stayed right where she was.

"M-e-l-o-d-y Ayrelle. Why didn’t they name you Symphony instead?”, he remarked, his tone almost playful and daring.

Lilly bit her lip at his comment, as the Warden came to a halt just a meter in front of her. She could smell the liquor on him and for a brief moment, she wondered if he had been following her, but then she remembered he must have already been in the courtyard before she arrived.

He wasn’t wearing his usual buttoned-up leather armour, but rather a black linen shirt with the top buttons undone and when the fabric shifted slightly to the side, Lilly saw more of the pattern that curled like silver fire up the side of Thorndale’s neck.

It started low, right where the edge of his collarbone met the curve of his defined shoulder and rose in delicate, shimmering lines.

The glyph was an impossible knot, its design intricate and dizzying, as though it had been drawn in defiance of geometry itself. At its center sat an impossible triangle, but its corners crept in all directions- like a spiral slithering up his neck and Lilly could not help but wonder if the Warden had more than one glyph. Thorndale followed Lilly’s gaze to his shoulder, before she curtly replied: "Warden Thorndale.”, nodding to him and hoping he would leave it at a simple greeting.

He let his gaze drift across her face, lingering on the spot she was still biting her lip for a moment, but Lilly quickly lowered her eyes to the ground, since his stare was too intense to withstand and she noticed a bottle of liquor in his hand.

"Look at me when you are talking to me.”, Thorndale grumbled with slight disapproval in his tone. Lilly forced herself to lift her chin upwards, silently cursing the power he held over her as her Warden; she had gotten a citation for disobedience before and she knew it didn’t take much to anger him to a point he would give her another.

"I didn’t take you for someone who drinks alone.”, Lilly said calmly, half as a challenge, half in an attempt to distract him with harmless small talk and to diffuse her own tension.

The Warden turned his head slowly, his gaze locking onto hers with an unnerving steadiness that made her feel like he could see right through her. "I don’t.”, he said after a pause, his voice lower and rougher than usual. "You’re here now.”

"I'm not here to keep you company." Lilly said firmly, before adding: "And I probably shouldn't be out here, where men are lurking on me."

As if the Warden hadn’t caught the insinuation, or simply didn’t care, he replied in a voice like cold steel: "I’m still more dangerous drunk than most men sober.”

She couldn’t quite read his expression, but she snorted at his comment, as if that could somehow reassure her- he was obviously the only threat for miles around. A dangerous threat, but a handsome one nonetheless. Something flickered in Lilly’s gut, fear or fascination, she couldn’t tell. He was unpredictable, calculated and cold, but now there was something looser in him. Her heart pounded wildly against her ribs. What did he want from her? Was this a trap? Was he planning to slap her another citation or was the Warden just so utterly drunk that he didn’t know what he was doing? Yes, he had definitely been drinking, she could clearly tell, but he wasn’t wasted.

"You’re scared of me.”, he said, but it was not a question.

"I’m- careful around you.”, she replied cautiously.

He stepped forward. Not fast, but deliberate -one slow stride that halved the distance between them. The Warden leaned in and whispered in her ear, his warm breath tickling her neck.

"You should be.”

Shivers ran down Lilly’s spine at his threat and her heart thudded hard, but she didn’t back away. He toyed with her like the tide with a piece of driftwood, always on the edge of being pulled under.

"I should go.”, she whispered, voice tighter than she intended.

"I agree.”, he breathed into her ear.