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The room was dark, lit only by a dim lantern or two. Shadows danced on the walls near the light like wraiths.
Valek stood near one such light, with a hunk of crow feather-black stone resting in his palm. Warmth bled from his skin into the rock, heating it. In his other hand he held a carving tool like a pen.
It was not often that he had down time- suspecting plots, snooping, stopping plots, assassinations, training and keeping an eye on food tasters, training and directing soldiers, and strategizing with the Commander tended to strain his schedule.
His hands carefully, silently shaped the stone between his fingers.
But his mind was far from silent.
Yelena had left around two seasons ago. Two seasons ago, he made her a promise that this would not be the end. Two seasons ago, he said goodbye to half of his heart.
Recently, he had felt flickers. Like the beating wings of a butterfly Yelena's voice would echo in his head for a handful of instants, then go quiet again. Eventually, the flicker was long enough to see that she was in danger, to feel her heartbeat gaining speed.
He didn't know how, but he always felt drained after these flickers. On the latest, he had felt himself trying to help Yelena, giving her strength. Flickers kept coming, so he assumed she lived.
It was late. The moon was out, and the stars sparkling. He should be sleeping like teh rest of the castle. And he had been, earlier that evening. He had woken from a dream, thinking Yelena was next to him, wrapped in long, green snakes, trying to escape. And odd dream-not what usually awaited him when he sheathed his eyes for the night.
Though it was not the first time he had dreamed of Yelena.
He had lain awake with his mind spinning. When all hope of drifting to sleep again had gone, he had hauled himself up here.
Yelena. Her life was a tangled mess. Though he couldn't say he wasn't happy about that-her twisting, turning, knotted fate was what had first thrown her into his life. Like a snake's coils.
Whether it was his dream or mental analogy, when he palmed the inky black stone, he began shaping a snake.
Slowly, a chunk separated itself from the mass. The shape grew more precise-the sleek head of a little black snake common in southern Ixia. Mini fangs grew outwards from a thin mouth. Valek smiled. A possible weapon disguised as a flashy piece of jewelry.
Soon enough, eyes like obsidian beads completed the snake's reptilian face. Here he paused-what was he going to do with a gaudy bracelet strong enough and shaped in such a way that it could be used for…multiple purposes?
Yelena. She inspired it. It would be a reunion gift.
He looked at his half-carved bracelet with new eyes, now that he knew who it was for. Thinking of the previously dangerous-looking reptile with uncaring eyes and sharp fangs, some revisions were in order.
First he took a knife to the eyes. From dead and uncaring he tried to duplicate a spark of something. Yelena's eyes had been dead and uncaring when she was dragged into his office in chains. After a few minutes and a sorry scrap of hope thrown her way, there had been such a spark.
Emotion. The eyes needed a touch of emotion.
Within a minute of steadily carving with the knife-tip, the snake was crying. A single black stone tear dripped from the left eye.
Yelena. The second time he saw her, she had been cleansed of grime and put into a poison taster's uniform. She had looked as delicate as and orchid petal. He had found out soone enough that she was more of a snow cat, but first impressions were always important.
He began re-shaping the head a little, softening the curves. It was supposed to be jewelry, after all.
She had always smelled like lavender. When he had begun to realize he loved her, he had come to relax the tiniest bit with that particualr scent. Then her distrustful words would cut him, and he would be on guard again, ready to defend against an onslaught of blows.
Coils began to twist around his had like the stem of a carnation, the head of the snake like a coriander bud.
Valek smiled to himself. Yelena always made him think of flowers. He should get the gardener to plant some lavender...
Scales began to appear, winding down the length of the little black snake that would rest against Yelena's pulse when the next met.
Soon, the stone had a spark and a life. Slightly larger than his last present to her, it sat in his hand, thoroughly warmed by his hands.
The oil in the lamps dwindled, and the light was going out. Grasping his latest creation, he ghosted into the halls, striding towards his suite. The snake's fangs bit into his skin a little. Definitely a possible weapon.
Over his bed, pinned to the wall, was a map of Sitia. He claimed to have it for strategic purposes only. The Commander wasn't fooled. It didn't help that he had notes all over it based on his flickerings, guessing where Yelena was. These notes were concentrated around three areas-the Zaltana territory, where he knew she was headed, the capitol of Sitia, to keep up appearances and because he was convinced she would go there to study magic, and around the Sitia-Ixia border, where he liked to imagine she was.
Valek bent over and blew on the candle, extinguishing the flame. Darkness commenced-there were no windows in his suite. No view of the stars or moon. In this perfect lighting, he could dream of Yelena.
The blackness didn't last long.
Footsteps. Valek's ears pricked up, though his breath remained regular. A timid knock rapped on his door, as if whoever was on the other side half expected to be attacked with a knife. He rolled his eyes.
Opening the door, he saw that a servant stood with a piece of paper in one hand, quivering. From the expression on the servant's face, you would have thought Valek was a rabid dog, foaming at the mouth and growling. Repressing a laugh, he reached out to take the paper. No sooner was the paper out of his hand then the servant turned and tried to leave without looking like he was fleeing.
Ah, well. The low-level servants who didn't come into contact with him as often were always scared.
He unrolled the paper, careful not to smear the freshly-applied ink, and read through it. A smile lifted the corners of his lips.
"Adviser Ilam" was Sitia-bound come first light.
I noticed recently that the Study series had way too few stories, so I decided to help remedy that.
I could continue this, and write a second chapter in which he gives the bracelet to Yelena, but I'm going to call it complete until that happens-it was written as a one-shot. Tell me if you would like to write said second chapter.
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