A/N: Consider this a warning my dear friends, this chapter
has quite a bit of romantic hints. If you don't Sandry/Briar coupling,
or you simply don't like romance, then I suggest you hitch-hike outa here.
Don't tell me I didn't warn you. Actually, the romance ain't bad,
but ya know. I didn't plan on having this chapter (story for that
manner) romantic, but, as most of my fellow writers' know, you have very
little control of your story. Er, annoying, eh? Well, anywho,
enough author notes. Story? Oh, yeah. . .
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Briar's POV:
Grinding my teeth together, I willed myself to simply stare blankly ahead. Glancing outside a window, I watched as the ocean crashed against the rocky ledges outside. I watched as they pounded against the rocks, smashing mercilessly. And I so wanted to open the window, throw myself out, and fall upon those crushing waves.
At least it would be better than this. This migraine, this room, this arguing between. . .
"I told you to stay on your side of the room, bag."
"Oh, shut-up! I am on my side of the room!"
"Your side, my foot! Look for yourself; you've obviously crossed the line."
"There isn't any line, stupid!"
"Oh, why don't you just go to. . ."
Standing up quite suddenly, I faced the two students, my eyes glittering. "Will you two please just shut-up, for gods' sake?" Clenching my hands tightly, my eyes wild, I sighed before throwing up my hands. "No wonder Sandry took off like she did. I was contemplating suicide just a few seconds ago." I ran a hand through my hair, suddenly feeling quite awkward and angry at the same time. Looking over at the two students, I blinked at their expressions.
Evvy stared at me with surprise, if not a bit of annoyance. Her typical non-chalant manner was about her, but at the same time, a bit of pleasant shock. Pasco, on the other hand, was pure shock. His eyes were wide open and his mouth was slightly agape. He blinked quickly before closing his mouth and pursing it.
They had been at it ever since Sandry and Tris had left for Nidra Island last week. Sandry, with her annoyingly large eyes, had asked me to watch Pasco for the two weeks they would be gone.
"I dunno," I slowly answered her when she had asked me to supervise her student.
She had been packing her bags, her dresses being folded as if they might break if you dropped them. Looking up at me as she folded a blue one, her eyes pleaded. "Oh, please Briar; I'll make sure he isn't much of a trouble. . ."
I snorted at this.
Putting a hand on her hip, she gave me annoyed stare. "What? Pasco isn't that bad. Plus, I can't bother my Uncle with him for the time being." She put the blue dress in her suitcase.
Rolling my eyes, I put my hand in my pockets. "I don't think he likes me very much, Sandry."
At this, she laughed. Not a stony kind of laugh, but in that pleasant way that she does, when she tips back her head and places a hand on my arm, her lips in a perfect part.
And, despite my attempts to look somber as she laughed at my sentence, I smiled. Not just a smile. A stupid looking, goofy grin.
By the way, I hate this.
"Oh, Briar!" Sandry exclaimed, her voice ringing throughout the room. "You know you don't care a thing about what Pasco thinks of you."
"Well, I suppose," I drawled, giving her a crooked smile. "After all," I began, raising my eyebrows, "I am, no debate, extremely handsome, dashing, and witty; it's hard not to be jealous. I can understand why Pasco is bitter."
She merely rolled her eyes. Still chuckling, she shook her head. "Don't hold your breath." With that, she picked up a lavender dress and held it up to her body. Looking down at it, she raised an eyebrow. "Do you like this dress?"
Looking at it with the corner of my vision, I simply gulped. Somehow, I had come to a conclusion of a love-hate relationship with that dress. It wasn't a specially wonderful dress. Simple really. No elaborate stitching, or special embroidery. But something about the color of it, matching with her glittering eyes, made you look twice when she had it on.
Not to mention it hugged in all the right places.
Shaking my head, I cursed silently at myself. It wasn't completely my fault, unless being a male was some kind of fault. It wasn't as if I looked for it, but, with Sandry, it just seemed to be highlighted. Not that I constantly yearned for her beauty or any of that idiotic nonsense, but I couldn't ignore one nagging thought:
I, Briar Moss, Plant mage, former street rat, thought Sandrilene fa Toren, noble and stitch witch, beautiful.
"Briar?" Sandry asked, suddenly jerking me out of my thoughts. She gave me an appraising stare, her eyebrow slightly raised before asking, "Are you okay?"
"Uh. . ." I started, not quite collected. Blinking, I stared at the dress she still held. "Right. Dress. Good." I sniffed nonchalantly, trying to act unconcerned.
She eyed my expression for a few seconds, trying to interrupt it. Then, smiling knavishly, Sandry simply cocked a devious head at me. "Does it make me look quite. . . alluring?" She twirled around in it, smiling slyly.
Catching her cunning maneuvers, I shrugged in mock boredom. "I dunno, your highness. That small nose of yours sure does make you look goofy." I stepped back to pretend that I was looking her over. Biting my lip in mock concentration, I shook my head while Sandry laughed at me. "Cute maybe, but alluring. . ." it was here that I winked at her, smiling crookedly, ". . . Leave that hard work to little ol' handsome me."
Rolling her eyes, Sandry punched me playfully in the arm. I feigned hurt, but she simply laughed at me. "For that, young man," she said, trying to make her voice commanding, "You have to watch Pasco while I'm gone." Closing her suitcase with finality, she looked up at me, her hand on her hips. I suppose I was still smiling crookedly at her, because a large smile broke out on her face.
And it was here that we smiled at each other for such a long time, I didn't think that we may ever stop. I looked down at her, her glittering blue eyes, and smiling broader, she did also.
It was the first time were I had to nearly grind my teeth to keep myself from laughing like a maniac.
Remembering it while I was standing in front of Evvy and Pasco, a grin grew on my face.
There I was, smiling like a goon in front of the rock mage and a dancing magical kid. I suddenly felt like a half-wit. I gritted my teeth
Suddenly noticing that there was an incredibly awkward silence, I shifted my position.
"Uh. . ." I started, my voice sounding unsure. Looking a bit timid, I cursed under my breath. Now Evvy had a bit of a superior look in her eye, as if she could feel my awkwardness radiating off me like a hot brick.
Darn her. Darn all females by the way.
Swallowing stiffly, I shook my head, trying my best to look disgruntle. I'm sure I looked utterly ridiculous (Evvy gave me a look) but I nevertheless stuck my hands in my pockets. "I'm going out for a walk." I turned on my heel, still trying to appear as if I was extremely upset, even though, at the most, I was just extremely annoyed. Opening the door to the study that we were occupying in the Duke's Citadel, I glared at them. "Now --if it's even possible-- could you restrain from killing each other while I'm gone?" Raising an eyebrow, I looked at the two students who were throwing visual daggers at each other.
Pasco sighed heavily before crossing his arms across his chest. "Don't ask me." He managed to glare at Evvy, "She's the one who starts everything. . ."
"Oh, why don't you go stuff yourself. . .?" Evvy retorted promptly, before sticking her tongue out at him.
Pasco rolled his eyes before mumbling incoherently but obviously writhing.
"What's that, bag?" Evvy snapped at him, obviously angered at the situation on the whole.
I could tell that Pasco was about to say something that would result in his injury, so I quickly interrupted, "I'm going out in the garden. If any one of you two just happen to get killed, don't come crying to me." Then, while I was halfway outside, I yelled back at them, "And, if there's blood, just don't make a terrible mess of it."
Somehow, I managed to pleasantly slam the door, trying to convey a message that I couldn't quite get through their thick skulls. Yet, while I walked down the hallway, I could immediately hear them yelling, bickering once again.
Rolling my eyes, I chuckled despite myself. Even though me and Sandry hadn't been quite so nasty, there had been a battle of quips. Of course, there was still Daja and Tris, who weren't bad in the contests of wits, but there was something refreshing about Sandry. Maybe because she was the first person to prove that all noblewoman weren't just the simpering snobs that I had always pickpocket in the streets when I was younger.
Walking measurably through the hallways of the Citadel, I passed the Duke, who was deeply involved in a stack of papers and envelopes. I suppose he heard my footsteps, for he suddenly looked up and grinned.
"How do you do, Briar?" He asked kindly, his smile soft even though his sharp nose contrasted with his gentle expression.
Shrugging, I offered a crooked grin. "As well as can be expected, I guess."
Raising an understanding eyebrow, Duke Vedris' smile changed into a bit of a sympathetic one. "I see. . ." he drawled before he inclined his ear towards the upper chambers of the Citadel. Immediately, something sounded like it had crashed on the floor, and I could hear Evvy voice scream: "Dammit, you stupid bag! I told you a thousand times not to touch that and now look what you've done."
"Oh, my. . ." The Duke added, pursing his lips together. Giving me a look of mutual comprehension, I watched as he licked his lips in concentration. ". . . Headache?"
"Headache."
"Ah," He replied simply, shaking his head. Looking in the general direction of the upstairs room, he chuckled gutturally. "I suppose you know how Rosethorn and Lark thought about you two."
His statement caught me off guard, and I simply regarded him curiously. "What?" Realizing the light tone I used with him, I hastily added, ". . .Sir?"
Duke Vedris chuckled some more. "You and my niece. At it quite constantly, I must say."
It was my time to chuckle. Rubbing the back of my neck casually, I shrugged. "What can I say? I am the master."
He laughed heartily. "Ah, yes. But my niece did give you a run for your money, eh Briar?"
Cracking a sly smile, I shook my head. The Duke just simply laughed at me some more.
Great, I entertain nobles now. What's next? Juggling for the Empress?
As more screams persisted throughout the entire Citadel, I shook my head. Glaring at the floor above, I grumbled quite grumpily, "I suppose I better get up there before Evvy totally annihilates Pasco. For some reason, I don't think Sandry would be too pleased if she had to come back because of Pasco's funeral."
"I'll watch them for awhile, Briar," The Duke offered surprisingly, and I turned and gave him a look of pleasant surprise. "Plus," he added before shuffling through the piles of paper in his arms, "I believe Sandrilene sent you a letter. I just received it today, and. . . ah ha!" Finding it, the Duke held it up with triumph. He examined it for awhile before handing it delicately to me. "Oh course, she sends you a letter. Not one for her poor dear Uncle." With that, he winked knowingly at me.
I eyed him suspiciously, and he chuckled at my expression before I took it. "Thanks," I said slowly before again adding quickly, "Your Honor, Sir."
Another crash sounded in the top of the Citadel. This time it was Pasco's voice yelling, an edge of impatience in it, "Oh, hang it all, girl. . . would you please stop trying to kill me?!"
Chuckling, the Duke shook his head. "Well, I guess I'm off. Good day, Briar." He tipped his head lightly in a parting bow.
I nodded at him, watched him climb the stairs slowly, before looking down at the letter. It was addressed to me all right, with the slow cursive letters that Sandry possessed. Chewing the inside of my cheek, I turned it over before greedily ripping it open and tearing the letter from the inside.
It read:
Dear Briar,
Well, Tris and I have had a wonderful time here at Nidra Island. The weather is quite pleasant, nothing like that awful drippy weather over in Emelan. The people here are also quite pleasant, albeit the foreign nobles that I've had to meet with. Talk about incorrigible. Briar, they are much worse than you even. Silly nonsense they talk about, and not much of it has to with politics.
However, Tris seems to be antsy. You know how she is. Tomorrow I only have a few meetings, so therefore I think we shall go to do some things.
Briar, I think you and I should come down here together. There are many wonderful plants here that I'm sure would fascinate you to no end, and they have a wonderful native stitching pattern here that I would wish to learn. What do you say? After my Uncle is better and Pasco older, we should go.
I have a meeting in a few more minutes. I suppose I must end here. However, Briar, I miss you terribly. I don't know why, but I have the slightest feeling that your collar is upturned right now. Look. Is it not?
I looked. My collar was. Shaking my head in disbelief, I mumbled to myself, "I've gotta stop hanging around her so much."
Anyway, Briar, I can't imagine that I lasted so many months without seeing you. Sometimes I can't wait to hear you laugh. I don't know why, but it never ceases to make me laugh too. . . Oh my, I don't know what has possessed me to write such words. Girls are silly aren't they Briar? I'm sure you would agree. It's just (how do I even explain?) I just enjoy so much to be around you, and. . .
It was here that I stopped. Not because of Sandry's words, even though, as I read them, my heart was doing something funny inside of me, as if it was doing skipping beats, or fluttering, or something of that idiocy, and my hand shook insanely, so that I couldn't think of anything put trying to keep my heart pumping normally and my hand to return to its normal state. No, what stopped my reading was the cry.
Sandry crying. Out to me.
It was suddenly: Briar. . .
Standing there like a blatant idiot, I couldn't believe that I had actually heard her. I went to open my mouth, but then realized that it wouldn't do any good. Closing it, I called back to her: Sandry. . .? What's going on?
It was then that I felt, possibly, the most horrible feeling known to humankind. Gulping frantically, I stood shock still for what felt like forever.
I had finally found a way for the fluttering to cease. My heart had stopped.
I might have lost consciousness, if just for a second, because I remember that my next memory was leaning against the stony wall of the Citadel, breathing heavily. Clenching my head, I tried to think rationally.
The biggest amount of pain I have ever felt in my entire life had just pervaded my vision. It was if someone just forced me to squeeze a knife and then, with my hand closed tightly, slide my hand through the entire extent of the blade. Images of people dying, crying, being beaten swarmed through my mind, like a spedup version of real life. I clenched my hands tight, tighter, so tight that I could feel my fingernails dig in my flesh. A light stream of warm liquid swam down my hand, down my arm. Blood.
Perhaps it was that I had just spoken to Sandry that gave me the immediate impression that the instant pain came from her. It didn't come from a sudden illness, and it wasn't just some kind of fluttering pain. No, this was the true kind of pain that one experiences only once in their life. I didn't really truly know this pain, couldn't really, but I had heard the screams on the street as a young kid, and almost mentally felt the pain. There was no way to avoid it, and after awhile, I became callous to it. I suppose I was still somewhat hardened to this pain, but suddenly feeling it from Sandry was like opening up a fresh wound, rubbing salt in it, and then tightly bandaging it so no salt could escape.
However, I refuse to admit that this was the kind of pain that Sandry had just suddenly sent to me.
"It couldn't be. . . no. . . crazy," I mumbled insanely to myself, quite sure that if any onlooker happened to simply glance at me, they would be sure that I had cracked.
Perhaps I had. Right then, I couldn't tell the light of day from the darkness of night.
Concentrating hard, I closed my eyes and, with all my strength, called out: Sandry. . .?
Nothing.
Sandry, this ain't funny. Sandry, talk to me. . .
She remained silent and something came to me suddenly. It was as if something had placed themselves between myself and her. Something ethereal, something beyond my comprehension. Something incredibly holy.
Nevertheless, I couldn't admit it to myself. This time I nearly yelled. Sandry, answer me. . . it ain't a funny joke. Silence. Come on, really . . .
There was just static.
Dammit Sandry, say something! Anything! Please, oh gods. . .
There was still no reply. Nothing, not even the grimmest idea that she existed. All that I felt was a blank ugly void stand in front of me, breathing on my face. And that's when I realized what I had just felt. Eyes opened wide in terror, I stared waspishly ahead.
I had just felt Sandry die.
Something like a moan escaped my lips, a sound I had never heard myself make. I looked around the corridor madly, feeling quite insane at the moment.
Sandry had just died. Died. She wasn't coming back anymore. There would be no more battles of the quickest wit. There would be no more laughs at my slithering attempts to make myself look extremely wonderful. There would no more lavender dresses, no more glittering eyes, no more smiles.
Oh gods, her smile.
Feeling numb, I couldn't understand why I simply stood in the middle of the Duke's corridor, looking like a madman. My eyes were dilated, my knuckles white from my grasp, and there was a stream of blood running erratically down my arm.
Yet, I knew why I stood there. I knew perfectly well. Grinding my teeth together, I felt my eyes water unmercifully.
Why had I been so stupid? Why had I been so stubborn? Shaking my head ferociously, I knew the answer. I was afraid. Afraid of everything. Afraid of rejection, afraid of the emotion itself.
In fact, I had denied it to everyone, including myself. Yet, I knew it all along. Why hadn't I had an intimate relationship with any other girl yet? I had asked that question to myself numerous times. I was fifteen (going on sixteen) and it was normal to have some inclinations towards the opposite sex. I always had my answer though.
But, now, my answer had just died.
Died.
I think it was the first time during my shocking experience that I realized exactly what that word meant. It meant coldness, loneliness, complete separation. Feeling my breathing become instantly heavy, I felt a feeling of rage come upon me. Like nothing I had every felt. I was angry at myself, and the world, angry at Sandry.
Turning rapidly on my heel, I faced the wall before raising my fists and pounding it. Leaning my forehead against it, I felt my face burn with my anger, and I pounded it again.
"How dare she die on me!" I exclaimed, my voice echoing throughout the entire corridor. I pounded the wall again, this time harder. "How could I be so stupid? Damn. . ."
Insanely pounding numerous time on the wall, I felt the flesh on the outside of my hand split, and more blood leak out. However, I welcomed the pain. It brought me back to my reality. Still breathing maniacally, I felt the water in my eyes finally give loose. For the first time in forever, I cried. A hot tear cascaded down my face, and I totally lost my composure.
I didn't care anymore if anyone saw me. Crumpling undignified on the floor, I put my hand in my hands. Sobs racked me silently, my chest heaving in and out painfully. If circumstances had been altogether different, I would've been embarrassed. Now, I could care less.
I'm sure I looked absolutely crazed. But, I was. Beyond reason.
Sandry had died. Not only died, but --I knew for certain-- been killed. I knew that kind of death, knew the taste of it. Saw it on the streets often, could recognize it with a flicker of a glance.
Someone had killed Sandry. Suddenly, a new kind of rage surrounded me. My sobs subsided almost instantly, and the only thing that remained of my crying was my red eyes. Looking up from my hands, I felt a sneer envelop on my lips. This someone would die. They would taste death. Even if I got myself killed doing so, they would die.
Pulling myself off the floor, I stared ahead crazily, my eyes fixated ahead. A new kind of insane determination entered my brain, and I clenched my hand tighter, relishing in the intense pain.
The pain let me know that I was alive.
My strides across the Citadel and to the stables were quite even and uneventful. When I reached the stable, the stable hand, a young girl, looked up at me sweetly. However, seeing my expression, her look became fearful.
"Ye. . . Yes, Sur Moss?" She asked hesitantly, backing slowly away from me.
I didn't even look directly at her. "Get my horse, Kora. I'm going to be off."
She must have done so quickly, because the next thing I knew, my reigns were being handed to me. "There ya go, sur. . ."
I gave her a glance before nodding. Mounting my horse, I stared down at her. "How far is the nearest dock?"
"The Duke's dock is just a little way off, sur."
"I know. I wanna take the common dock though."
Kora regarded me curiously before shrugging. "Three miles, Sur Moss."
"Thanks," I replied shortly, before adding, "Kora, I'm not gonna be around for awhile. Do you understand?" The girl stared suspiciously at my crazed expression before nodding slowly. "Good. Now, you tell Duke Vedris that he's not to worry. I hoping that I should be back shortly. Tell him that I'm awful sorry that he has to watch after Pasco and Evvy, but I gotta go. Tell him that I'm off to Nidra Island and that there's no immediate need for concern." I stared measurably at her, "You got that?"
"Yes, sur."
I suppose I mumbled something to her, and she questioned me something, but I must have ignored it. For, squeezing my horse slightly, I urged it to go foreword, and we were soon in a fast gallop.
The wind blew in my face restlessly. My horse, for once, didn't object to my movements. It rode with me, running against the wind passionately.
I felt a new sense of numbness through my body. An assassin mood had been switched on.
Grinding my teeth, I embraced the numbing. With Sandry gone, it was one of the few things I had left.
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Oh la la! TENGO UN PERRO!! Oh look, I'm bilingual!!! Hehe, I crack myself up. Anyway. . . so Tris and Sandry took a vacation, got kidnapped by an evil Earl who Sandry had a meeting with that day already (oh the irony!), and Briar felt Sandry die, hence he is pissed at himself for being a wuss and not facing his feelings and is NOW off on a physcho killing rampage for the person who killed Sandry. Hm, I thought this story wasn't going to be weird. Oh well.
Anyway, please do review. Thank you SO MUCH for reviewing my other chapters. And look! The Blind Assassin reviewed it. . . go read her stories. Now! SKAT! Oh, and the review button, it is your friend. Isn't it pretty and colorful? Shiny button. . . you will press it. You are gettin' vwery sleepy. Anyway, if you could take 10 seconds out of your precious life and review, it would be most wonderful. MUAH! SEE YA GUYS!