Bound

The land called Sacae

"Prince Hector?" Hector let out a short outtake of breath, sheepish that he had been caught with his mind wandering. He let his azure eyes focus again on the dusty surroundings of the royal library, the fading curtains -- which were going to be changed soon, they've been hanging for far too long -- and at a mildly disapproving history teacher.

"My apologies. Could you repeat that again?" he requested, and with a light sigh, the teacher continued with his lecture of the Golden Age of Ostia, where the kingdom was at its peak of power. The kingdom was still the strongest nation, however, though it may have weakened since then.

"During the Golden Age, Ostia prospered under the cunning King Lamorac, who was also known as the Warrior-King, for he waged constant wars with his surrounding countries. Under his rule Kingdom Ostia became at its greatest size; however, the general population's lives became increasingly more difficult due to the constant wars. His son, the Prince Roland, later to be King Roland, was, unlike his father, a wise, gentle soul who brought peace to the conquered lands as well as to Ostia . . ." Before long, Hector's eyes glazed over, half-listening to the teacher and half-remembering.

For several days afterwards Lyn suffered from high fever, with Hector watching when he came and visited, as often as he could (and when Serra would allow it). She drifted in and out of troubled sleep, calling out strange names to the empty ceiling. "Father!" and "Grandfather!" were one of the most frequently shouted, and among the few that he can understand. But one name dominated over all of them, and the one that he found most unusual.

"Sacae . . ." she would sigh, her voice thick with tangled emotions; longing, passionate, pained, and wistful. He thought it amazing that one so ill could be so fervent on a singular subject. He wanted to ask her possibly what in the world could possibly be fascinating about a land filled with wild, unruly grass, even more than orderly, civilized countries such as Ostia and Ilia. But she was too sick to even recognize him, and besides, Serra would have his head if he bothered any of her patients; he had to be content with wondering, wondering and wondering what drew her toward the land called the Sacaen Plains.

Another sigh, more prominent and irritated than the last time. "Prince Hector, the lesson is over." For the second time today, Hector was forced out of his reverie. He found himself in the ancient library once more, his mouth slightly ajar and his eyes half-lidded. He quickly forced his lips into a grim line, and blinked the lingering images away, embarrassed with himself. Once was understandable, but twice? Even he knew that this sort of behavior could not be tolerated.

"Sorry. It won't happen again," he promised, hurriedly putting the lesson books back on the shelf and trailed out of the narrow spaces between bookcases. He felt the teacher's eyes glaring after him, though he didn't look back. Didn't need to -- he knew what everyone thought and required of him. And he knew that he was failing miserably, and not living up to their standards. He hurried his steps, a scorching feeling burning at his sides.

Once out the doors and in the corridors, he hesitated. He had his sword lessons with Oswin in an hour, so really, he should go and get ready, but he haven't checked up on Lyn since they relocated her (as in Serra and Rath, though mostly Rath, because the blasted woman was complaining how a lady of her statue should not do manual labor --) to a more secretive room in an obsecure part of the castle, which was two days ago. She seemed to be getting better; he wanted to make sure that it stayed that way.

His emerald-green cloak flowed after him as he hurried down the path he chose. It would be tight, considering his schedule, but he was only going to check up on her, then leave.

When he reached the right room, he didn't even bother knocking on the door to warn the occupants of his arrival, as whoever was in there wasn't even supposed to be there unless it were Rath, Serra, or Lyn. He threw the door open, and regretted it, as he hurriedly caught a crystal vase on the table which was in danger of tumbling off. He half-expected the pink-haired cleric's chiding voice to reprimand him -- "For the love of St. Elimine, Lord Hector, you could even wake the dead with your fumbling ways! Now shoo, shoo!" -- but, alas, she wasn't here (and he privately noted his own sarcasm).

Lyn was lying on a large, but simple bed with a yellowing sheet covering her, aging and shabby from neglect. The entire room was chocking-full of dust; except for the bed, which have been cleaned thoroughly by Serra, who worried that Lyn might accidentally inhale the inches of the gray fluff and suffocate to death. Which was ridiculous in Hector's view, but she was a healer, and he was not, so maybe her seemingly childish insistences were true. Then again, it was Serra . . .

Ah, well, it couldn't hurt to keep things clean, he thought idly as he placed the vase back on the little table, being careful not to break anything else in the room -- which was difficult, seeing how what little was here were all so brittle -- as he made his way to the bed. Since the chamber was sparsely furnished, he had to be content with standing by her side, for the fear of breaking the only wooden (and creaking) chair.

He studied her features in the cloudy haze, as the late-afternoon rays shined through the open windows, warming the forgotten room with its brilliance. Her cheeks still held a feverish blush to them, though it was not as glaring as the first few days of her illness. Her normally-sharp eyes were hidden by her lids, fluttering gently with each even breath she took. It then suddenly struck him how different she looked from the high-borns from surrounding countries such as Pherae, Araphen, or Caelin, yet still similar. He would have spent minutes, maybe hours on end, pondering, had not Lyn's brilliant green-blue eyes snapped open.

"Serra?" the servant said, her voice scratchy and hoarse from disuse. Then her eyes seemed to focus on his sheer size, and the green eyes became alert, almost suspicious. "Oh, it's you." Her tone wasn't exactly hostile, yet it wasn't welcoming or friendly, either. He was still offended, and slightly more than irritated -- after all, he was the Crown Prince of Ostia, and he was not used to being spoken to like so.

He folded his arms defensively across his torso, a brief scowl twisting his features. "I would have apologized for that blasted idiot's behavior, had you your senses earlier," he informed her, and it was true. You couldn't exactly strike a conversation with a raving lunatic. Well, maybe she wasn't a lunatic.

She made an attempt at a contemptuous snort, but seemed to stop herself. "Thanks," she said dryly, her face unreadable. Then came -- "for nothing." There was a definite scowl on Hector's lips now.

"I did try," he protested to the recovering Sacaen on the bed. "I brought Serra to you!" He paused briefly. For as a great healer the woman was, her attitude could force any hardened criminal to run in opposite direction, screaming in genuine terror. So he wasn't sure if that counted for anything.

But to his surprise, she let out a small sigh and rolled her eyes in defeat. "I can't argue with that," he heard her mutter, which caused a fleeting moment of annoyance in him. It was almost as if she lived to contradict him every turn. Come to think of it, so did everyone else. His life was just a big tangle made of constant disappointments and lies, with bits of headaches thrown into the mess. As much as Hector loved his late brother Uther, he sometimes hated the man for leaving with a great legacy that was hard to follow up to.

"Well," Lyn said suddenly, sitting up and leaning against the bedpost, "if you have no other business, I'd like some rest." He raised an eyebrow.

"Meaning with me in here you can't?" he replied sarcastically, and she threw him a look that was just as cynical.

"If you want to think like that, then yes," she said, reaching for a goblet full of clear water. She took a long drink from the draught, and then placed it back on the night table beside her, her expression much refreshed. She lidded her eyes as she pulled the sheets around herself, her gesture indicating that his visiting session was over, but there was a question nagging him at the back of his mind.

"What's Sacae like?" he blurted out suddenly, which seemed to get her attention, as her eyes flew open.

"Excuse me?" she said, as if unable to believe what she was hearing. Slowly, he repeated his question again.

"What's Sacae like? You always mentioned the place in your fever-spell, and Rath seems to be unable to let go of it." She regarded him with a renewed interest, which left him feeling slightly embarrassed -- what was so unusual about asking a question?

"You truly want to know?" she asked, seemingly mildly surprised by his curiosity. The ever-short temper of the prince flared, as her attitude said it all: The arrogant aristocrat can actually think?

"Look, if you don't want to tell me, then you don't have to--" he started to snap angrily, but he immediately fell silent when Lyn's quiet, even tones cut through his own.

"You've never been there, have you?" she began wistfully, completely oblivious to the fact that she had just interrupted him. "I don't think you'll understand, then. Most people think it's a useless wasteland with weeds sprouting everywhere--" here her eyes flared "--but it's so full of life other than grass. There are the short trees that have survived the winds, outside of the forests. The wildflowers, bushes, little animals . . . it's a great place for horse riding. Rolling hills cover the land, and in the autumn under a full moon, the grass seem to take on a silver sheen. When you stand on a high ground, watching the wind sweep by, it's almost like a sea, the way those grass seem to beckons to you . . ." Her eyes took on a fierce glint and her cheeks began to glow, and immediately, Hector knew that she was homesick. Silence settled as Lyn dreamt on, her eyes softening and becoming misty with each growing second.

He coughed, having yet another question about the 'savage' lands. "What do the people do there?" Lyn looked startled, as if she had forgotten that he existed, and was in the same room with her. She pondered on his inquiry, sorting out how to best answer it.

"Whatever you want to do," she said slowly, her knuckles growing white as she gripped at the sheets. "The children learn how to ride horses and archery, but they also roll on the green grass and let the Sister Wind caress their hair." Hector jerked slightly, experiencing a deja vu-like sensation. Where had he heard this before . . . ? He frowned, trying to remember. Perhaps in a book, or a dream, as nobles don't generally talk of such things, he decided, as Lyn went on.

"I used to listen to my father's stories as a child in between gathering food and practicing with a sword. With my mother and grandfather, as well. Inside the tent, I would sit on the bed with mother, and father would pull up a chair beside it, telling us stories. Grandfather usually sat at a far end in his favorite chair, which I also loved, since it was a soft, violet one. He would pretend to be sleeping, but I knew that he was interested in the stories just as I was. I think he's had a quiet life before he came to Sacae," she finished thoughtfully, her mind traveling to her past. Hector found himself nodding slowly, the Sacaen Plains beginning to intrigue him more and more.

And for the first time, the two shared an almost-civil conversation, and sat in a peaceful silence, each left to their own thoughts. Hector began to paint an image in his mind, entirely different from the view of most nobles in his lands, where Sacae was a Wasteland with a capital W. The nobles generally scoffed at the nomadic population, casting them aside as vulgar and uncivilized. He would have gone on thinking the same, as well, had he not met more-gentle side of Lyn, as well as the quiet Rath, he supposed.

How long had he sat there, musing over the mysterious land? The sun was shining a dazzling scarlet when his mind wandered back to the present. He exhaled slowly, as one who was waking from a peaceful dream, gazing at the beautiful sunset.

Sunset.

Oswin.

Hector sprang up from his seat, and nearly sprinted out the door. How long has he been visiting? For three hours, at least!

"Where are you going?" Lyn called after him, startled by his sudden burst of activity.

"Sword lesson! I was supposed to be there two hours ago!" he answered without looking back, still remembering to lock the door in his haste. He had to change into his practice armor, and hurry down to the grounds -- he didn't want to find out what Oswin was like when he was mad!

Author's Note: Whooo! I FINALLY updated! Thank you for those who have reviewed, and thanks for not giving up on this story! And, yes, notice that Hector and Lyn are not the best of friends suddenly. I thought it'd be more realistic that way. For those of you who has been expecting something more . . . I'm sorry! Throw no rocks at me, please. oo;

P.S. I don't have MS Word anymore, so if you spot any mistakes, don't hesitate to tell me.

Link015: Gah! I still have to read your story. -slaps self- I'll get to it now! -hops off-

Miss Krux (x2): Wai! I'm sorry! X.X Forgive me. I just couldn't find enough inspiration for this chapter. (Rewrote it three times . . . gah. XD) If you are indeed still reading this, sorry, and I'll try not to make it happen again!

Wandering Cat: -nod- I will bear it in mind . . . (insert evil laughter here)

Dreamer of Riddles: Ho'crap! You like this? XD Yayness! And sorry for the last review. I was in really, really long review (for me) mood. -jumps off a cliff-

Lao Who Mai: True, true. But the parents are so certain that Hector will follow their wishes. Why? Because they're King and Queen! . . . -awkward pause, cough- 8D;;

lilylisa31: Ah! Thank you! I hope this was soon enough. 8D;;;;;;;;; - . . . cough again-

azn pride alwayz: Whee! Tis a prettyful signed review. Thank you!

Reviews and constructive criticisms are always appreciated!