Story 10. Explanations.
"How is fairytale reading?"
"It seems I'll learn both books by heart very soon. Or do you mean what Sam and Lenny think about it?"
"I bet they like it".
Their walk wasn't planned. William just appeared next to Rita's house, suddenly as usual – elegant in his calm relaxation, with constant fringe on his jacket, which was moving in time with horse walking. He appeared and almost immediately was invited inside, getting the dinner from Rita and a story from youngest children about giving the anti-extinguishing remedy to Swiftfire and Spark today. And this time Ashka was mixing it.
"Really? – the man looked at the Spellbinder with interest. - Well, that would be stupid to doubt you".
And then it happened so that he told about his intention to go riding in their area and invited the woman to join him if she wasn't busy, of course. Before anyone had a chance to speak, Rita, remembering in the morning they were to start washing, interfered:
"Not busy at all. We've already finished with all the housework for today".
Ashka tried to argue.
"But I'm not…"
"Just go, - Tom supported readily, - you may take my horse, I don't need to go anywhere today".
They all watched the Spellbinder in a rather strange way. As if they wanted and waited for something. For what? Ashka felt like some weird unknown process was started behind her back, pushing her to where she didn't want to look. She wished to believe this walk, for which she agreed as if being hypnotized, wasn't committing her to anything. And that Sam standing at the porch and following them sadly with her eyes wasn't having the same thoughts as hers.
The weather was nice and mild, somewhere between sunny and rainy. Sky was covered with white clouds. A little further from the house mood became better. Trotting his horse, William asked about her affairs and latest news, told about his. A week earlier a Sky longwing hatched in his shed – small, but already fast and incredibly nimble. The dragonling was to become the very image of its father – old Whirlwind from the thirteenth sector, where the egg had been swapped once.
"There, over the hill, there are more Sky longwings than here, - he added, - but they all happened to exist within the thirteenth. And what's new in the fifteenth? I heard there are not many dragons in your area".
"It's a standstill there, - Ashka smiled, thinking up on the go, - you're right, there are very few creatures like this in my sector".
William nodded, apparently satisfied with this explanation. They already left the sixth sector and the dragon center of the farm behind. It was obvious they were on the way to the fifth one. To the old racetrack.
"In three days it's Wilfred's turn to walk Harley, - the sector owner spoke again, straightening his hat, - you can accompany him, if you want. Now you already have a helmet".
"Aha. I smile every time I remember his face, when he gave it to me", - the woman sniffed. Her companion smiled too.
"And what did you expect? It wasn't easy for Wilfred to accept the fact that a woman, who's supposed to be afraid of dragons, longs for seeing them".
"I'm glad I could change his views, - the Spellbinder concluded, rushing her horse, - keep up!"
William lingered for a moment, not ready for such agility. But then he galloped his horse, overtaking the Spellbinder.
"It's you who should keep up, by the way!"
"Oh am I?" – Ashka's eyes flashed with excitement, she gave the horse its head. So overtaking in turn they reached the track, pulling the reins and stopping their horses.
The place where they came caused mixed feelings. Now there were no people, just the sand, wooden handrails, old tables and sheds. Nothing was heard from out there. Not a soul. As if that strange, beautiful and cruel competition she remembered so often didn't happen at all. As if that was a dream. And only a tiny scar on her cheekbone, hardly visible and just at a certain angle, reminded her of those events…
Ashka smiled, riding together with William along the outer side of the track. The feelings were mixed – and bitter-sweet memories, and excitement caused by new impressions and the speed, and the disappointment that winning slipped though her fingers. The place was meaningful and even romantic, in a way. With its history.
"Everything happened here, - she said, stopping her horse and dismounting, - seems like yesterday…"
An image appeared again: rough sharp sand and the riders rushing in her direction. But the image faded almost immediately. The disappointment was in her soul yet, but not as strong as before.
"You still regret?" – dismounting after her, the man came closer. Spellbinder shook her head.
"I start growing out of this thought. But maybe I would never forget it completely".
"No need for completely, - William replied, - what matters most – you have experience now. And besides, I can not say for all the women of Moriol, of course, but if you want to take part in the next race – nobody will reject".
Ashka smiled again. It was still to long until the next race to think of it now. For some time she, who always tried to outpace the time and circumstances, preferred to live just in the present moment.
"I'm pleased to hear it. But I'd rather not anticipate".
Tying their horses to the fence, they went by foot. The sun didn't rush to appear from behind the clouds, the air was pleasantly cool. The topics – abstract. Everything seemed too perfect for an ordinary walk, and when William sighed and said they had to talk about something else, the Spellbinder already guessed what was to come.
"You affect me in a strange way, Ashka, - he started, tracing the wooden handrail with his palm, - it feels easy and difficult at the same time. I know what I want to say, but it sounds bad".
"William…"
"No, please, give me this chance, - the man interrupted her gently, - or else I'll be a fool not just for you, but also for myself".
Turning around he stood still, catching the careful look of green eyes.
"Do you remember when we first met? One morning I came to visit Rita. And I saw you in the kitchen… You were busy with something…"
"I was peeling potatoes", - Ashka enlightened him, remembering that day perfectly, for she considered everybody maybe not as an enemy, but at least as something dangerous.
"You were in a bad mood when I asked your name…"
"To tell the truth, I was furious", - the woman added another nice detail, for she almost cut off a tip of her nail that morning.
William smiled.
"You know, you got into my soul that moment. There was something special about you. I didn't even understand what impressed me so much. And later, when I saw you during Moriolian fest – I couldn't take my eyes off. You were so beautiful…"
"William, please…", - her heart was beating like a scared bird, but he was going to continue. He was to say much.
"I didn't even realize when I fell in love with you. The only thing I knew – you're different from Moriolian women. You are unique, in each feature of yours and all of them together. Your character, your longing for dangers and adventures. I saw you're interested in Harley, saw you always stand out, willingly or not. And that race story…"
"And that satin you used as contribution", - Ashka said quietly. Not expecting it, the man stepped back, but she sniffed.
"At first I thought Evie did it. But she never had any satin, especially like this. And then I guessed".
The sector owner nodded.
"So you know. That's for the better. It was difficult to persuade the governor, though possible. And I succeeded. I didn't know, honestly, I didn't know how to behave, what to do and how to act in order to attract your attention. I wanted to tall you this all for so long. And I tried to make you happy, at least: walks to Harley, the race, oh, I even found your hat that evening, on the road, when you were chasing Thunder…"
"…So you asked Sam to say Robert's sons found it?" – Spellbinder gasped, understanding.
"So I asked. Silly, yes. So boyish-like, - William confirmed, coming closer and embracing her shoulders, - Ashka. You're wonderful. You're amazing. Suppose, I've always been dreaming about such woman. I'm a sector owner, as you know, I've got a big house. All I have I'm ready to give to you, if you agree to marry me…"
She stared at him in confusion, feeling her heart was already beating not in the chest, but somewhere in her throat. She felt hot and cold because of these palms on her shoulders, just like on the dance floor. Why? Why did it happen now, when she almost succeeded in convincing herself he was helping her just as a friend? Why was he opening up his heart for her? For her, about whom he knew nearly nothing…
"William…"
"Yes, Ashka, - he nodded, stroking her arm, - I understand that it sounded too fast and perhaps rather second-rate. But you don't have to give an answer right now, here. I just thought the atmosphere is right… At least, if I have hope, say you will think about it…"
"Don't, - stepping back, she looked at his bewildered face, - please, never say these words again".
"Say you will think about it…" That sounded too familiar. Too cruel, for some time.
As if hitting the invisible wall, the man lowered his hands.
"Forgive me, - his voice sounded guilty, - it seems I think only of myself. I didn't want to offend you".
"You didn't offend, - Ashka came to help, feeling the unpleasant blackness of one short phrase was fading, - but I have a not very good story, related to these words".
"I didn't know…"
And how could he? What did he actually knew about her? What any Moriolian could know about her?
"William, - taking a step towards him, she looked at this open prepossessing face, - I am flattered with your attention and this attitude… But you don't really know me".
He laughed quietly.
"Really? And I thought you've been living in my sector for half a year…"
"That's it, - the Spellbinder confirmed, - half of a year is not enough. And before these six months there's the life you aren't aware of".
"It doesn't confuse me. I'd like to know more about you, but that depends only of your will…"
"No, it's not right!" – she exclaimed, stepping back again. Why wasn't he understanding? Why wasn't he feeling it wasn't good? Everything entwined in her head. Hands clutched the saving handrail, like a reminder of the reality.
"Ashka, what are you afraid of?" – he stood still, as if scared that breaking the distance could make her vanish, frighten her completely.
"I'm afraid you don't even know what you want, - the woman said firmly, - William, I'm a monster…'
"What?"
"Monster, - she repeated, - that's true. I can't explain you everything, but I'm not a good match indeed".
"Perhaps it's me who should make this decision? – he asked carefully. - I don't ask you to speak of something you don't want to. I guess you had to went through many things before we met. But does the past mean anything now?"
"It doesn't release me, - the woman objected, almost sentencing herself, - there are things that will always mean something for me…"
Would she really refuse? Wouldn't prudence screen all other feelings this time? But the wife of a sector owner – it sounded so attractive. Suddenly Ashka realized that even six months ago this conversation could be finished in an absolutely different way. And now it couldn't for some reason…
"These things are both good and bad…"
Was she really almost ready to say it? Was she really, despite all her pain, agreeing with Sam's words?
"William, I do respect your feelings… But something prevents me from returning them…"
So simple, come on! Say it!
"You should know that my heart belongs to the other man".
And she said it. She confessed something that needed an affirmative answer for a while. She confessed the thing she doubted, for which she felt angry, in which she was sure. And suddenly she felt better.
The man watched her, not blinking, quietly, piercingly.
"Oh… Is this… Is this serious?"
"Yes, William, this is serious, - she nodded, understanding that this very moment she was separating herself from the chance of once wished Moriolian glorification, - there was someone in my life, whom I lost".
Moriol power, longing and looking for the benefit… Marauders take them! She couldn't, she wouldn't do that to him.
"There was a man, very important to me. And it seemed I meant something for him too. Then everything was over…"
"Ashka, please, - the sector owner came closer behind, touching her hair gently, - if this is too hard…"
"Oh stop it! – she interrupted. - You were frank with me, so let me be frank now. I told you I'm a monster, but this is true. And once it was different. And I was almost happy. But I didn't understand it in time. I never had enough time to understand it, I was busy with the things that made the others suffer. And next to me there had always been someone, who understood and accepted me even this way".
She took off her hat and turned around.
"He did something I can not forgive. I want to hate him, but sometimes it's impossible. And sometimes this hatred is difficult to stop. So now you know something about me".
"But Ashka, - taking her hand, the man covered slender woman's fingers with his palm, - you're so young. And so beautiful. Isn't it too definitive to yourself?"
The Spellbinder shook her head sadly.
"I'm sorry, William. I've locked up my heart to prevent it from the same things. Maybe once it will be different, but not now. I know that I'll never see him again, but I still think of him".
"Won't see? – her companion asked. - Is he… far?"
"He's far, - Ashka replied, looking at the sunset, - even too far from here. One would say in another world".
Something appeared in the eyes of the man near her. She knew how this phrase was working and what everyone was thinking about after it. She didn't risk.
"I'm sorry, - the man whispered, - I could object you now. But I just want to apologize. I shouldn't have started this conversation".
"It's not your fault".
Still holding her palm, William took something out of his pocket.
"It depends. Let me do something for you, or else the memories about this talk will be too troubling. I was going to make a present for you long ago and seems like my choice is right…"
Something cold and metal was put on her palm.
"This is…", - Ashka stared at the bunch of keys in fascination. The man smiled.
"Access to Harley's shed, now the dragon is yours. If I can't become your husband, let me be your friend".
Unprecedented impossible gratitude overwhelmed her consciousness. The woman had no idea she was able to be so grateful. She caught her breath. Did he really dare to doubt himself?
"You will always be my friend, - the Spellbinder said, clasping the keys to her chest, - thank you".
She wished she could say more. To say that he and the family of his friend became her friends indeed, by some strange circumstances. Her first friends. True ones. But now there were not enough words, with which she had always played so skillfully. There were inexcusably few of them. However, the man got it. He sensed it in both the short "thank you" and her gaze…