(Author's Note: Attention Ensign, set Sap Factor Five. Engage!)
Chapter Nine
"I did try to contact you." Coran said simply as the Strider reached the earthen barricade and turned left around the inside perimeter.
"I believe you. I really do." Devona assured, shifting her weight to maintain balance as the bird turned, giving Devona a good view of the Academy and surrounding city of sorts.
It looked all so uniform, with the smaller buildings giving way to ever taller one until it all yielded to the towering spires of Atal Ra, still gleaming with gold and the central spire reflecting the light through the chamber. But due to the closer distance, Devona discovered the light to be far more painful to look at, closing her eyes as the luminance burned obnoxious discolored spotches into the back of her eyes.
"Oh, yeah… don't look at the light up there." Coran answered sheepishly. "That's nearly 20,000 nodes being reflected off the Mirror Tower… at this distance it would be like looking into the sun. Someone probably should repair the undershades to keep new visitors from making that mistake."
"I haven't seen anything like that… not even in Rata Sum." The warrior admitted.
"Well, Rata Sum probably doesn't have the energy resources we have. There are several deep magma conduits beneath his chamber that we can tap to power the lighting arrays. That, and as I understand, Rata Sum is on the surface, so it likely wouldn't need a large geothermic generator like the one here in Atal Ra."
"I see you haven't changed much." Devona said, surprising herself by giggling. "You sound just as befuddling as you always have."
"On the contrary, dear; I've changed a great deal." The prince answered. "One notable change should be obvious by the prince's new clothes."
"Yes, I've seen that attire… the Paragons of Istan use that design. I suppose you want me to ask how a man buried underneath Ascalon managed to learn the techniques of the Sunspears in Elona?"
"Not really. There were several Paragon masters in Atal Ra before the Destroyers attacked. Sslani, the Forgotten Headmaster of Atal Ra before me, thought it would help my leadership skills to take on the profession. I merely wanted to point out one way in which things have changed."
"It has been a long time, hasn't it?" Devona asked.
"Nine Years, two seasons, and thirty-three days." Coran agreed, and she could oh so barely see the color appear on his cheeks after he had made the statement. "I suppose… I have been keeping close track." He admitted with a hint of embarrassment.
Coran pulled the Strider to a halt at the entrance to an ivy walled gazebo on the eastern side of Atal Ra, a scant ten meters from the barricade, and after dismounted, assisted Devona in doing the same.
The fragile-seeming wooden structure, shrouded by the curtain of vines provided a disturbingly great sense of privacy, which Devona suddenly found to be somewhat discomforting. She hadn't felt so awkward in years.
"The reason I'm bringing up all this change is…" Coran began, but stopped. "Gods take me, I don't know how to say this."
"The living tome himself speechless?" Devona found herself joking. "Things truly have changed."
"It's about our bonding." The prince explained. "I think you recall all too well how awkward it was to discuss it once puberty hit."
Oh, did she remember. She remembered all to well blushing so badly she was sure her head was going to explode whenever her mother brought it up… which was usually three or four times a day. She remembered stealing off at night to meet Coran in some secluded hideaway in Rin because they both were so embarrassed of what people would do or say if they were seen together in public. She remembered chafing at every promotion she received when she had entered the military, wondering if her superiors had found out the secret of her husband-to-be, and were trying to flatter her once she became "royalty."
"I know for the longest time, you probably thought I was dead, and I'm sure within those nine years, two seasons, and thirty-three days that you moved on. I don't know much about the surface world, but I have a hard time believing that someone as beautiful, witty, and confident as you were and are remained pining away for the memories of someone not even deemed a man by his peers before he disappeared."
Devona began to speak, but Coran hushed her with a finger to her lips. "And even if you have, as I said, much has changed. I'm not the same person as the one who walked away from Rin, and happened upon the heart of Asuran and Forgotten knowledge. And I'm sure you're not the same as you once were either. At this point, we've been apart almost as long as we were together. Both our fathers gave us the option of breaking the bonding at any point before we were married… I would not be upset if you decided to do so, or deep down already had."
The warrior gently pushed away his finger. "Yes, we have both changed, that I am sure… but not nearly as much as you would like to think. You're still as annoyingly analytical as you ever were… you've just learned bigger words to use."
She sighed, and continued, "As for finding someone else, I never really had that opportunity, even if I had wanted it. My life has felt like one endless battle from the moment the Searing struck. There was no room for romance or love in my life. But I didn't want it anyway. We grew up joined… and unlike all the horror stories I heard about such arranged marriages, I never felt forced into it. We liked each other… and grew to… love each other. At least I did. There, I said it. Mighty Devona, admits to the "weakness" of caring about someone else. What Cynn would pay to hear those words from my mouth."
Their eyes locked, and Devona finished, "I know I might have seemed embarrassed about my relationship to you…"
"I understood perfectly. You were raised proud and independent and to excel on your own merits." Coran assured. "It would have been an insult of the highest order to be lifted up simply because you were bonded to the youngest prince of the kingdom."
They both fell silent, searching the others eyes for some sign that they weren't being completely honest. "But no matter how you wish to downplay it, we and the circumstances around us have changed. I don't want to move forward with anything just to find out the changes are more than we find acceptable." Coran reiterated... seemingly hellbent on reinforcing that point.
"Perhaps we should get to know each other again, then." Devona retorted with a smirk. "Before we make any rash decisions."
"That might be a good idea." The prince answered, the tug in his chest compelling him to lean forward, barely acknowledging in the back of his mind that she was doing the same. "I'm Coran."
She felt his hands slide around her back, and wrapped her own over his shoulders. "Devona."
"A pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise."
Their kiss should not have set off the sort of fire in her belly that it did. They didn't even open their mouths. But the moment their lips met, the last thing she wanted was for it to end, wanting more even as she knew doing so probably wouldn't be prudent.
And so, they stayed in that bizarre stalemate, wanting and yet not wanting to go further for what was beginning to feel like an obscene amount of time. But Devona pushed such caring back out of her thoughts. It didn't matter if it was weird… it was perfect just as it was…
* * * * *
Damn it.
Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.
Damn it all.
Damn it to the gods and let Grenth take all of it straight to the Realm of Torment.
Assassins didn't cry. Assassins didn't let anything affect them so profoundly. Surrender to emotion led to mistakes, led to error, led to death. It was better to rein all of it tightly in, never let it consume ones thoughts… to be eternally vigilant lest control slip at the most inopportune time.
But there was no fighting back the tears that slid down her cheeks.
Damn it.
Coran hadn't seen her for years! That… that… wanton hussy had blissfully lived her life without Coran for nearly a decade!
No… she was the one that had been by the prince's side when he needed help the most. She had been the one faithfully defending his life and aiding him when all had seemed lost. She had been the one willing to die just to hear his approval.
But that was not meant to be… deep down she had known that. Perhaps Devona wasn't some noble born priss, destined from birth to be a nobleman's wife… but she was even lower than that… just some obscure peasant girl from a migrant family… forced north because they weren't fit by blood to be "true Ascalonians."
But didn't it mean anything? Was she truly so insignificant in his mind that when the full figure and alluring blue eyes turned his way that he had no hesitation whatsoever to respond to the advance?
Damn it.
She slithered through the halls of Atal Ra, consciously turning down paths to avoid other sentient beings. She eventually found her way to her quarters, and to the bottom shelf of her wardrobe, where tucked underneath piles of her unmentionables was a stack of letters bound with purple thread, opened yet undelivered.
The thread came untied, yielding the contents of the opened missives, the words of Prince Coran wishing the intended recipient well, holding reluctant hope that his love expressed within those words could still be returned.
But in her treacherous eyes, "Devona" would be replaced with "Yue."
And so the assassin cried… bitter tears of a hopeless love doomed to never be realized.