The Red Soul

Chapter Nine

The sound of joyful chatter of visitors and residents returned when Fyrian and Myris walked through the main streets of the city again.

Fyrian took her along the market square, where the flower carriers were no longer dancing and peace had returned. Myris also saw Midow standing behind her booth gazing their way again. A smile played around her mouth when she noticed Fyrian, who winked at her.

Myris averted her eyes, which was easy as they already kept shifting towards her hand over and over again, where she felt the mark engraved in her skin- something that Fyrian had promised to not talk about, at least, not until she was ready herself.

They walked around the fountain, towards a wide street, where a large building stood at the far end. The sign above the rustic door spelled out the name 'Mynestry' in bold white letters. A combination of voices and instruments spilled through the open windows. It seemed to be a tavern. And that was immediately confirmed when Fyrian opened the door and a thick alcohol smell entered her nose.

The bustle was almost overwhelming. Everywhere Myris looked, creatures were drinking and laughing together, sitting on benches covered with animal hide along large wooden tables or standing against wooden pillars with mugs in their hands. Almost no seat was empty. The tavern seemed to be the popular.

When the door closed with a thud, some looked at their direction to see who had come in and those who did fell silent. The silence grew, until a racket erupted in the tavern as soon as someone yelled Fyrian's name. All kinds of creatures approached and greeted him enthusiastically and asked if he would join them. Most of them did not acknowledge Myris, who had discreetly grabbed Fyrian's sleeve, being completely startled.

Politely, Fyrian declined the offered drinks and led Myris to a platform diagonally behind the bar were smaller, round tables were standing. At one in the corner Viera and Cearen were watching how Fyrian and Myris were making their way through the crowd with drinks placed in front of them.

Relief was visible on Viera's face as she stood up to hug Myris firmly. "Thank goodness you are alright. I have no idea what happened to us at the square. Did anything else happen while we were separated?"

Myris sat down on a chair Fyrian had pulled back for her, shortly exchanging eye-contact with him. "No, nothing happened. I only got lost searching for you, but Fyrian found me."

"Yeah, I know. I asked him if he could search for you," Viera mentioned, looking between the two in front of her with concern. "I hope you do not mind that Fyrian found you instead of me or Cearen, since you two seem not to be on good terms today. I searched for you myself the moment I escaped from the dance, but when I could not find you, I asked Fyrian for help. He is the best at tracking people down so I knew that he would find you in no time."

Fyrian, who sat down on his own seat shrugged his shoulder the same time Myris did. "It actually was for the better that I took over. We got to talk and resolve our disagreements on the way back, right Myris?"

"Yes. We are good now. Apparently, he is not that big of a jerk as I assumed him to be."

Myris could see, both Viera and Cearen's eyes lit up as she said it. Cearen signed something to Viera which she did not understand, but was immediately explained when Viera nodded in agreement. "Cearen says that he is happy to hear that, which I also am of course." Then Viera slightly shook her head and messaged her right temple, smiling at Myris when the latter gave her a concerned look. "But since we have bought everything we need, perhaps we can go back home now?"

Fyrian, who had been raising his hand in the air to signal someone, turned back towards the others, lowering his hand so he could grab Viera's hand and squeezed it softly. "Of course, but let me and Myris drink something first. I am parched."

Myris appreciated Fyrian's consideration as the combination of lack of proper hydration, the smell of the alleys at the edge of the city and the huge amount of noise had made her quite dizzy.

Luckily, someone had seen Fyrian's raised hand and approached them. An elderly man with grey hair, with only one stripe of hair on the left side of his head still black, walked towards them with a notepad. He had small square glasses on his nose, but Myris' attention went unconsciously to his ears. She expected to see pointed ones, but they were just like hers. He also looked much more normal, as if he lacked a certain beauty that most Fae had around them.

The man accepted Fyrian's outstretched hand and greeted him cheerfully. Then he nodded with a smile at Cearen and Viera before drawing his attention to Myris. "Would you like a drink, young lady?"

Stunned, Myris continued to stare at him and did not respond.

Fyrian said something to the man, who nodded again and walked away. As soon as he disappeared into the crowd, Fyrian looked at her with a slightly tilted head. "That could have been a little more polite, you know."

Blinking, Myris felt her cheeks turn red and stared at the wooden table. "He is a human," she said surprised.

Viera hummed before taking a sip from her glass cup. "As we said, humans live here as well and can do whatever they want... as long as it is not illegal."

Myris peered through the crowd, searching for other humans, but only other non-human creatures seemed to be walking around. She saw a woman with long pink hair, with skin full of the same coloured spots divided over all parts of her body that were visible around her clothes. She spoke flirtatiously to a man with short blue hair and eyes like that of a snake. There were scales on his cheeks.

Somewhere, Myris found them terrifying. Yet, reminding herself of what the others had told her, she now also could see that they did not act any different than she would have done- than she did right now. They were drinking together, making bets with each other... They were enjoying themselves, like any other person would have done.

The elderly men suddenly appeared again next to their table with a tray on which two glasses were standing. However, someone else was standing beside him.

"Learia? Myris asked bewildered.

The woman nodded happily and picked up the glasses, which she then placed in front of Fyrian and Myris. As she did so, Myris stared at the woman apologetically. "I'm so sorry about my behaviour."

The woman waved her hand. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I understand it. I heard I had to blame Fyrian."

A sound of indignation came from Fyrian's throat as he looked at his twin sister in disbelief.

Learia and the man turned around when someone waved at them. The man was about to excuse himself and walk away, but Learia stopped him. "I'll go." With one last smile at Myris and the others, she quickly kissed the man on his cheek and walked over to the customers.

As Myris watched the woman attend some customers, she suddenly remembered that Viera had told her that Learia is the bartender's wife. It explained the kiss and the way they seemed to run the tavern together; the way that they were the only ones serving drinks and food, just like they served her drink, from which Myris took a sip.

The taste of freshly squeezed peach ran down her tongue, but it was much fresher and sweeter. She soon emptied the glass and looked at Fyrian, who took a sip of his glass, which contained a colourless liquid.

"What is that?"

Fyrian looked briefly at his glass and then at her. "Water."

"I thought you wanted to get drunk?"

A sparkling laugh was heard when Fyrian put his glass back on the table with a hard thump. "I would like to, but if I do, Mynestry will throw me out of the bar and I will probably not be allowed to come her for a month. Or not Mynestry?"

The man nodded sternly. "As much as I like you Fyrian, I'm not afraid to kick you out of my property if I have to. You've chased all my customers away before!"

Viera folded double from laughter at Fyrian pouted, and although there was no sound, Cearen had thrown his head in the neck as well, his shoulders shaking up and down. The man also laughed amused.

Myris, however, stared at the man. "Mynestry... so you are the owner of this tavern?"

"For 27 years."

"And not stopping any time soon," Fyrian added as he stopped glaring at the two people across the table.

Mynestry politely waved to some of the guests who left, a bright smile on his face as his eyes wandered through the building. "I dearly hope so." Yet, he sighed deeply when a shout was heard from across the bar. "Maybe I spoke to soon. If you want to excuse me for a moment." After saying that, he slightly bowed his head and disappeared again.

Myris followed Mynestry with her eyes, observing how the man was asked to referee a contest between two people about who could drink their pint of beer faster. Almost the entire tavern started to cheer for the two rivals. Myris was even startled when Fyrian beside her yelled to one of them to drink faster, but it made her laugh as well.

She did not know if it was the lively, joyful atmosphere of the tavern, or the nice people that she had met, but she would love to come back again.

"So, you once chased all the customers away?" Grinning, she looked at Fyrian who quickly drank his water and jumped up.

"Oh, look at the sun! It's getting dark. Let's go home."

Before she knew it, he had already run out of the tavern and both Cearen and Viera had tears in their eyes with laughter. Myris saw how Cearen gestured towards Viera, but looked at her. Myris stared at them questioningly when Viera nodded in agreement. "You are absolutely right, Cearen. We could not have wished for a better friend."

When they got back to the castle, the sun was almost set. Myris felt her feet throbbing in her shoes and her eyes closed every minute before she shook her head to stay awake. Fortunately, she was not alone.

Viera stumbled after her and immediately kicked off her shoes as soon as she got inside, not bothering to put them away neatly. Instead, Cearen picked them up and took them with him as he and Viera walked to the dining room together.

Myris had already forgotten she had not had dinner yet and had almost walked straight upstairs to go to sleep. She reluctantly followed the other two, knowing that she had to eat before she would go to bed.

A deep sigh left her mouth, but she fell silent halfway when Fyrian leaped past them with big steps and a grin on his face to open the door for them. She stared at him with wide eyes. How could he still have so much energy?

His grin widened as he bowed deeply in front of Viera. "Go ahead, oh tired lady."

A growl left Viera's throat and she snatched one of her shoes from Caren's hand, which she threw at Fyrian's face with great force.

Fyrian caught it just before it hit his nose. He did it with such speed and precision that Myris barely saw his arm move. His face, to Myris' disbelief, had not changed an inch. There was no shock in Viera's sudden movement in his eyes. Only pure entertainment.

Viera muttered something to him, but then walked in the dining room on and dropped herself on the pillows. Giving the shoe back to Cearen, Fyrian followed her and lifted her head, so that Viera's head could rest on his lap as he ran his fingers through her hair.

With a small smile, Myris looked at the two in front of her, but somewhere she felt a stab in her heart. It looked so familiar. Just like the reappearing feeling of loss was recognizable again.

She looked over her shoulder as Cearen put a hand on her shoulder. He had placed Viera's shoes besides the door. He tilted his head and smiled. Myris did not need a translation when he silently asked her if she was hungry.

"A little bit," she admitted.

With a nod, he walked towards the door at the opposite side of the room, towards the kitchen.

"Wait Cearen."

Cearen turned around as Viera sat up, her hand leaning on Fyrian's thigh for leverage. "You don't have to prepare a whole meal for us now. You're tired too. We all can collect a simple meal for ourselves. That way, we can also go to bed quickly."

Cearen raised his hands in protest, but Fyrian also turned to him, still playing with Viera's strands of hair. "Don't bother Cearen. You've earned your rest. After all..." Stretching, Fyrian walked to the kitchen himself, only to reappear a few seconds later with a cart with four bowls of hot soup on it. "Someone is thinking of us," he finished.

With raised eyebrows, Cearen picked up a card that balanced on a bowl filled with pieces of bread. He shook his head with a smile and then showed it to Viera, which also enabled Myris to read the small, graceful letters:

Sleep well everyone,

Amaeron

"That man..." sighed Viera, who took a bowl from Cearen. "If he would just join us for a meal again..."

Fyrian took the other two bowls and went back to his place. "Can you blame him? I wouldn't be happy if I had to wait until this late, just to eat with the two of you." He sat down thoughtfully. "Although, maybe not for you two, but I could wait a while for Myris."

With a wink, he handed the last bowl to her, as she gratefully took it from him, ignoring his comment. She could not help but remember this afternoon. The look in his eyes when he chased the three Fae away... and the look when he kissed her scar. He had looked like a completely different person back then.

She ate the soup in silence. Nobody was in the mood to say much. Even Fyrian seemed to be far away with his thoughts.

When everyone had finished and they went to their rooms, there was only a 'good night' exchanged with each other before the doors closed with a click.

Learia was not present when Myris changed her dress for an emerald green nightgown. She smiled at the thought of the Fae and the bartender.

She yawned and put her head on the pillow. The little crystal shone softly on her bedside table.

However, too soon she opened her eyes again and hurried back to the bathroom. Chills crept over her body and tears ran down her cheeks, while red eyes kept staring at her. She dared not to look in the mirror, afraid she would see him. She did not look back when she heard someone come in.

"So much for our restful night, I suppose?" Fyrian's voice sounded from behind her, but he never approached her. Instead, he leaned against the edges of the arched opening in the wall and started humming the same song as Viera had done. It seemed as if he knew exactly what to do. Never had her breathing calmed so fast— had Myris generally calmed down so fast.

She looked up exhausted. "Do you never sleep?"

"Not if you keep me awake."

"Are Viera and Cearen still asleep?"

"Yes. They have not noticed anything."

Relieved, Myris tried to get up, but then she bent forward, gasping for breath. Her throat was burning and, at first, she thought it was the bile stinging her throat, but it felt worse than the previous nights. In fact, it seemed to be spreading throughout her whole body like the blood running through her veins. And from an at first bearable stinging pain, it turned into a suffocating burning heat.

Alarmed, Fyrian ran to her, but when he touched her arm, she withdrew it. The cold touch of his skin contrasted so much with her glowing body that even the simple skin-to-skin contact was painful to her.

Myris squeezed her eyes shut as another shot of pain went through her legs. She wailed softly and collapsed, but she was immediately caught.

Not feeling any cold yet burning touches, she knew Fyrian was doing his best to avoid contact with her skin. Something that was quite difficult with her short dress. Still, he managed to lift her up and get her back to bed without causing her any more pain.

Myris felt his presence linger over her, as if he was not sure what to do. Despite the pain, she opened her eyes to meet his, but as soon as they did, his eyes widened. They were filled with astonishment. Fyrian looked at her stupefied for a second. Then he was gone.

Staring at the empty space, Myris called after him. She did not want to be left alone. Not now. Not with this pain, because she recognized it. It was her own magic, fighting within her body for a way out. She had felt it many times before. It had started terrorizing her after that fire-filled day. And although the pain was agonizing, she hated what could come after it more, because every time it managed to break free, disaster followed.

Yet, it was something she had not felt for a long time. Not since they had locked her up in the black room. Not since they pricked her with that black needle dipped in that strange powder. The excruciating burning feeling always disappeared when they did that. And when her magic started to immerge again, they pricked her again.

She had never really fought it. Not even when the unknown powder made her ill and weak, and she would not be able to move without getting nauseous. She had wanted them to make her magic disappear.

Even though she had now seen other magic too, good magic, hers was still unpredictable, destructible. Perhaps, if it was not for the torture and maddening silence and loneliness engulfing her, until the point that she spent some days more dead than alive, she would have stayed in the prison. The powder was a cure for her.

It had been multiple times that she had asked them- begged them- to kill her, yet for some reason they never did. So instead, she had hoped that at least they would get rid of her magic for always if she stayed... but it did not seem to be that case. It always came back. And while she lost hope the longer she waited, she also could eventually not bare the other consequences off staying there. Not when the shadows had started screaming to her that she had to run. So, that was what she eventually did.

But in Olèrian there was no black needle and no strange powder that restrained her magic. Ever since she had escaped from that prison, it was slowly resurfacing. Most of the time it was recognizable due to an abnormal heat flowing through her body, but nothing would follow. Yet, two times, or at least as Myris had been aware, it had already broken out. One time when she slightly burned her blanket, and when the red light had appeared around Fyrian. Luckily, it had been mild only then- not yet strong enough to do any harm. But every time it returned it became worse. And now, the heat and pain that indicated its resurfacing was worse than ever. She wondered how long it would take for her magic to completely burst free.

Myris could barely hear the sound of loud footsteps running in all directions before a new wave of heat exploded in her chest and she lost her concentration. She clasped her chest with her hands and curled into a ball, trying to touch as little as she could. The only part of her skin that was not burning was her right palm.

She thought about how she would confront Fyrian with his childish behaviour as soon as the pain was over. If the pain ever passed...

But that turned out not to be necessary when hasty footsteps echoed on the stairs and Fyrian burst in with a concerned face. He seemed to have completely forgotten that it was late at night and the others were asleep if they had not woken up already because of him.

A silver chalice entered into Myris' field of vision as he held it out to her. "Drink this, it should ease the pain."

Myris tried to extend her arm, but the pain did not allow her to move properly.

Fyrian saw it and placed his arm under her back for support and brought the chalice to her lips.

Taking a sip carefully, Myris choked. It tasted terribly bitter and with the burning pain it was hard to swallow, but at Fyrian's insistence and with his assistance, she drank the strange liquid as quickly as possible.

The burning sensation diminished, but did not fully disappear. Yet, it had become bearable until the point that she thought that it was safe again to stretch her body. She dropped back into the pillows, panting. Despite the pain almost gone, Myris was still hot and knew she had a fever now. But apart from that warmth, she also felt chills running down her body. She wanted to get the blanket, but it was just out of her reach.

"Let me." Fyrian took the blanket and put it over her. While he did it, he stared at her eyes as if he were studying them, but soon he turned away with a frown. "Any idea what just happened?"

For a moment she did not respond, but then she shook her head. "Do you?"

"I'm not sure." Fyrian shrugged his shoulders. "But I don't think now is the time to ponder about it. We still have a few hours before dawn. Let's try to get some more sleep."

Myris expected him to leave, but instead Fyrian took of his shoes and lay down next to her. Bewildered, Myris sat up and shuffled to the edge of the bed. "What are you doing?"

Fyrian tilted his head. "Even though the elixir should last for a few hours, I am not going to leave you alone now, in case it does come back."

"I am fine. You can go to your own room." Myris looked at him pleadingly, ushering him with her eyes to leave her alone, while making sure that she avoided skin contact with him.

Fyrian rolled his eyes. Unbothered, he made himself comfortable beside her, as if he had done such a thing many times before. "Listen, although Cearen would only glare at me, Viera would kill me for leaving you alone even though the pain can return. I am going to stay whether you like it or not."

"You might get sick as well," Myris tried again.

"That sounds more appealing than facing Viera's torment."

"I do not think I will be able to go to sleep again the rest of the night. So, I think it's better that you go to your own room so that at least one of us can get some more sleep."

Fyrian grinned and turned around, grabbing something from her bedside table. When he lied down again, Myris saw the book he had given her. He started flipping through it. "You won't get rid of me, so stop trying. How far are you?"

"Fyrian..."

"Has Viera or Cearen not told you yet how stubborn I can be?"

Letting out a deep sigh Myris let the back of her head rest against the wall. "Only a few chapters. I am not a fast reader."

Humming, Fyrian flipped through the book. He stopped at the page where a ripped piece of paper functioned as a bookmark. His eyes first scanned the pages but then crossed line after line as he began to read the book aloud.

Myris raised her eyebrow, but stayed silent. She waited, assuming that he was just reciting a couple of sentences. Yet he kept going. Fyrian kept reading the book to her until she interrupted him when he was on his third page. "What are you doing?"

He waved with the book. "I am reading to you so that you can go to sleep easier. So, lay down, be still and enjoy my lovely silky voice."

"You mean you are going to bore me to sleep with your voice?" Myris mocked jokingly, not taking him seriously.

"As long as it can help you fall asleep." Then he continued reading. His voice animated, yet low as to keep the sound in the room. Myris had to admit that he did not lie about his voice. It had a soothing tone, somewhere melodic, as he was reading, fully focused.

The corners of Myris' mouth lifted slightly as she slipped a bit more under the blanket again. Aware that he would not leave this night, she lay on her side, her face resting on the palm of her hand raised by her elbow. She closed her eyes as she listened to Fyrian, slowly forgetting about the pain that was almost completely gone.

After a couple pages, she yawned. Her wrist started to tingle as a sign that she needed the lay her arm down. She did, followed by her head as tiredness consumed her. Yet, it was not her pillow where her head landed on.

Her head shot up from Fyrian's chest and despite the tiredness, she looked for red irritated skin, but saw none. When she was sure that there was no burn, her cheeks instead turned red.

Fyrian, still reading, put one hand on the back of her head and pulled it back down on his chest. When she lay down again, he stroked her hair. It was the same gesture he did a lot by Viera.

The combination of his voice and touch made her eyes grow heavier again fast. For a long time, Myris closed her eyes without being followed by her nightmares.