Disclaimer: I don't own anything but my OC's.
Chapter 9: Right as Rain, Soft as Snow
"Come on, Ash, we will be late," Eoran calls out, leading the way through the crowded streets.
It is late at night, just a few hours away from my name day. I haven't seen Tryndemiel since I left him with Tear, and I wonder just how their reunion is going along. I set those thoughts aside and focus on Eoran's tall form weaving through the people of Doru Araeba. I run after him, footsteps crunching in the snow.
We reach the center of the area, which is a small plaza – well, small compared to those in the rest of the city – usually used for social gatherings. Lovely ice sculptures now line the edge of the area. Lovely spires, dragons in flight, men and women of all races, all made in ice enchanted not to melt or chip until the end of the Winter Saturnalia, which will be starting in five days. Eoran waves his arms around happily. "Are they not lovely? I told you it would be worth it," he exclaims.
"Worth it, but next time waiting for our dragons might be a better idea," I point out. "Brand and Larsahin would be back from the joint training in half an hour, and could fly us to this place and back even before curfew."
"But then, we won't be able to exercise." Eoran laughs, his breath fogging up thanks to the cold. "You know, we have to stay fit."
"I know that," I tell him. I note the way he fiddles with the bracelet of braided leather that I gave him for his name day early last fall. He gazes at the towering dragon sculpture before us, seemingly transfixed by the sight. The vivid light cast by the lamps reflect in his stormy eyes, and I feel a fluttering in my stomach. "Amazing, the way one could use a simple knife to carve such shapes in the ice once it has been prepared with magic. It takes so much skill and attention to detail for you to create even just one of these."
"Preparation would have started even before fall sets in," I agree, admiring the glittering likeness of Vrael, sword in hand.
Eoran reaches out to touch the ice dragon's chilly surface. "I want to create works of art. I've been thinking about it when Master Jehara discussed fairths. I want to paint. I want to sculpt and write. I want to create art that people would remember, so they can see that Riders are so much more than what the common people think of them."
I nod, understanding how he feels. Maybe that's the same reason I want to be a scholar studying the stars. We are so much more than warriors and diplomats. We have our own interests, our own dreams and hobbies. We are people too. "It would be good then to start practicing now," I point out. I vaguely notice that my voice does not sound so nervous like it usually does when I am around him. "Maybe you should buy some paper and paint and everything else you might need."
He grins. "Someday, but not now. We have years of training ahead of us."
I nod vaguely. I stare at him, feeling the icy shiver that I get whenever I see his face. After all this time, it seems like I am still smitten by him. He smiles, tugging at the knitted red scarf around his neck. "Ah, Kifain cornered me a few days ago and wanted me to ask you if you and that scholar were… you know… canoodling."
I glare at him. "Canoodling? Ha! He knows who I would rather canoodle with," I mutter. As a matter of fact, I am talking to him at the moment, and yet he is oblivious to it.
"Please do not tell me that you want to canoodle with Fayille," he groans, making a disgusted face.
I swat his arm lightly. "Of course not. Why should I? He is older… and an elf… and he's so odd."
He laughs. "Odd. But he is not that bad-looking, if you hear Sevanna rant about him." His face falls as he remembers her. "I never did know why she rejected me and suddenly avoided both of us."
"Tryndemiel says she was interested in him." I rub my shoulders, suddenly feeling cold – not the pleasant shiver I get around Eoran, but a sad, lonely sensation. "He never reciprocated, so maybe she is just a little upset about that?"
Eoran's lip twitches. "Maybe. Maybe. That's all we could do, isn't it? Speculate." He rubs his chest sadly. "It hurts."
I choose not to speak, but it also hurts, watching him pine for someone he could never have either.
The morning of my name day arrives in a wave of cold. The world outside the tower is blanketed by a thick cover of snow, and I dread walking out to train with Glaedr and my father. Brand doesn't seem to mind it, though he keeps insisting that he prefers the summer heat.
The dining hall is subdued. Everyone is feeling the bitter cold, and friends huddle with each other to stave off its creeping claws. I find Fayille and Eoran talking animatedly, hands around cups of steaming tea. It does fight off part of the cold, but I still shudder when I sit across the table from them, bundled a thick coat and at least two scarves.
Eoran is the first to address me. "A happy name day to you," he exclaims with a wide smile. "Lovely day to spend outside, eh?"
"Our noses would probably freeze and fall off within the hour," I tell him. "And thank you."
"A happy name day to you, Ash-finerya," Fayille says with a fluorish.
Eoran grins and pushes a small box across the table. "For you," he announces, chuckling softly as I open the box carefully, afraid of damaging it.
Inside is a lovely red ribbon lined with silvery thread. I immediately remove my old ribbon and tie it back with the new one. I stare at him, a smile etched on my face. "Thank you. You did not have to, and you know it."
"I had to, believe me." He smiles and shakes his head. "After the nightmare you went through last summer and remaining as my friend, you deserve it."
"But still, I thank you." I hope I am not turning red. "I hope I could help you with Sevanna too."
"Think nothing of it," he assures me with a smile.
I find Oromis waiting for me outside the tower with Glaedr and Brand. The other pupils heading off with their teachers look as unhappy as I feel about having to brave the cold. I stare at my father, who seems unaffected by the weather. "I don't care about building character. I will be losing my nose in this climate. We used to stay inside in days like this back in Ilirea."
"You are a Rider, and you must learn to forge on despite harsh conditions. We will be training for a fortnight in the Hadarac Desert next year." Oromis smiles tightly. "And a happy name day, Ash." With a fluorish, he shows me a sword belt adorned with woven silver.
I thank him, not knowing what else to say. I let Brand carry it off in his saddle, planning to replace my current belt with it later.
I change clothes before dinner despite the fact that I would most likely end up going back to my room to sleep after eating. I secure my new belt around my waist and pat down my hair, then sit down beside Brand on the soft red carpet and wait for the dinner gong to sound.
It was a tiring day, I muse, closing my eyes and basking in his warmth.
It was, and your name day too. Shall we celebrate my hatching day next spring too? His dark blue eyes sparkle as he watches me.
I smile, remembering the little hatchling in my arms. It feels like it was just yesterday, despite the things that happened in between that time and today. He hums softly, and I close my eyes, lost in so many fond memories. I force my mind to stray away from the painful events of summer.
I am jolted out of my thoughts when my door creaks open. No one visits me, unless you count the servants who regularly clean our rooms every week. A familiar face peers into the room – Tryndemiel. He smiles at me giddily. "Good evening," he begins breathlessly. "Forgive me for being late, Ash Svit-kona, but I still want to wish you a happy name day."
"Thank you," I say, standing up.
He looks down, looking timid all of a sudden. "I wanted to find something special for your nameday… like you did for mine. I actually asked Tear for help, and she seemed most amused. You don't know how many shops we found ourselves in!"
I cross my arms, flustered all of a sudden. "Y-you didn't have to," I stammer. I feel my heart thundering in my chest nervously as he steps completely into my room. "There is never any need to make such an effort."
"And I told you the same thing a few days ago," he points out.
I turn to Brand. "Tell him why he is being ridiculous."
Well, he is not. You disregarded his words, and he disregarded yours. It is but fair. My dragon has a point, I suppose.
Tryndemiel tilts his head curiously, unaware of my very supportive dragon's response. He takes the time to rummage in his pocket and brings out a small box. He presents it to me with a fancy bow. "M'lady, your gift," he jests.
I smile and take the box. "Why thank you, m'lord."
His eyes sparkle, the tired air I have grown accustomed to since we met suddenly fading away. The bright look etched on his face urges me to open the box, and I do. Inside is a thin ring made of pale red, blue, green, and purple metal intricately twined together. It was lovely and simple and I couldn't help but put it on immediately.
"It is dwarven-made. Or so the odd shopkeeper told me." Tryndemiel reddens. "I did hear some of the human scholars talking about how men give rings to important women in their lives. And, well, since you are my closest friend and… yes."
I blink in surprise. "I think you misunderstood what they told you," I point out, feeling myself blush as bright as him. "Men give rings to women during weddings – or to offer betrothal."
The color in his cheeks deepen. "Oh. Oh." He rubs his forehead. "I am an idiot."
I stare at him with a smile. I have never truly appreciated the fact that he is actually quite as beautiful as Eoran. "No, you are not. You are a very sweet person," I tell him. Something warm seems to awaken in me, and I lean forward to kiss his cheek as lightly as he kissed my forehead on his name day. "Thank you."
He bows with a flourish once more, a mirthful glint in his eyes. "You will always be welcome."
Behind me, Brand suddenly stands and stretches, flexing his midnight-blue wings. A wild idea occurs to me, and I can sense my dragon's approval. I turn back to Tryndemiel. "Say, did you ever fly on the back of a dragon?"
"No," he says, drawing out the word. "I've always dreamed of doing so though, even just once in my life."
"Then you are in luck," I tell him, crossing my arms. "I happen to be a Rider."
He raises his brows as comprehension dawns upon him. "I would not mind taking up that offer, but we will miss dinner. Unless you want to eat somewhere in the city, in which case I will lead you to my favorite place."
"I would love that." I grin and mount Brand, holding out my hand to Tryndemiel.
He hesitates before taking it, hoisting himself up clumsily. I teach him how to tie himself using the straps on the massive saddle, and I wonder if it is true that it could keep at least five people comfortably seated. He still looks nervous when we throw the balcony door open. I shut it behind me and secure it with magic.
Brand lets out an excited huff of breath, deep blue flames dancing out of his nostrils. Where to, little ones?
"Give us a good view of the city," I tell him. "But do be careful. I don't want to frighten our friend."
"I won't be," Tryndemiel groans in protest.
I grin. "Oh, let's see about that. Let's go!"
Brand spreads his wings and leaps off. We quickly plunge down, and I hear Tryndemiel scream in terror as his arms wrap around my waist like a lifeline. Before we hit the ground, my dragon bounds up with a snap of his wings, and we begin to circle the tower.
We soar higher and higher as we begin to fly around the city, the twinkling lights looking like small gems upon a greater piece of jewelry. I feel Tryndemiel relax behind me, but he keeps his arms around my waist, probably afraid that Brand might decide to show off again. I note the fact that it actually feels nice, and I sense Brand's amusement again.
What? I all but snarl.
I haven't seen you that happy around Eoran. Mostly you are nervous when he is around. Brand seems to be trying to send another message across, but I'm not sure what.
We circle the city, watch it bustle with life for a few minutes. Then, Brand veers to the mountains and the sea, to the place where we rested during our first flight. None of us speak as we settle on the cliff, the crash of the icy waves against the frozen rocky shore the only sound aside from our breathing.
I dismount, fingers stiff from the long, cold flight. I hold out my hand as I reach the ground again to help a pale-faced Tryndemiel stand beside me. He adjusts the coat covering his body and glances at me. He keeps his grip on my hand. "The view is beautiful," he muses. "Watching the earth from the sky is as enthralling as watching the sky from the earth."
"It is," I agree. "It is more beautiful in summer, but seeing it in winter with all the harsh beauty has its appeal too."
"Not as beautiful as you," he says.
I stare at him, and he stares back for a while before looking away. I ponder on his words, and neither of us speak until we return to the city and eat in a secluded, quiet and cozy dining shop. We make small talk, talking mostly about Tear and how she is planning to return with the rest of their siblings.
By the time we return to the Tower, my mind is running so fast that I am unable to grasp my thoughts properly. We land in the balcony and Tryndemiel hastens to the door across my room. He quietly takes in the sight of my face before walking away. I watch him until he turns down a corner to another hallway.
I think I am smitten by him – him and Eoran.
I did say that this chapter will also be sappy, right? XD We'll be focusing on Eoran next chapter and a bit of a sparring scene (guess who!)
Yep, everyone guessed right. That shopkeeper is our enigmatic witch sans werecat. xD
Tear and her sister (and another half-sister) are actually quite nice, though one of them will terrify Ash to death. Mwahaha!
I might update Bloodwar next, but that depends on my mood when I return from my trip.
Brand is the most amazing shipper on deck. I need a dragon too!
Read and review, as always!
