Chapter 10: Repaved Path

Song: "Rewriting My Life"

Darktide Isle was appropriately named as the land was covered in a heavy layer of thick rainclouds, the torrential storms predicted now beginning to fall in even sheets. However, it wasn't nearly as strong as it could be, though the accompanying thunder did little to suggest otherwise. On the island was a large landmass, and hidden behind several hanging vines was a heavy boulder. And behind the boulder…was a cave.

It was surprisingly deep, considering the island was a floating landform just off the coast. Due to the conditions of the area, especially with the rain, it was damp and cool, a steady chill that one couldn't simply 'get used to.' The labyrinth of the twisting cave seemed to roam for what felt like miles, but it was all an illusion: heavily emphasized by the near-impenetrable darkness.

However, in one hollow area of the cave, a small stream of light could be seen. What appeared to be a rusted lantern lay on the ground, a single flame flickering behind the glass. And around that lantern were the King of Venburg and his private magister regent Isolde. Both had their hands extended toward the pathetic excuse for fire, their fingers brushing every now and then as their shivering slightly intensified.

The cave was magically sealed off, and Isolde's powers were no match for it. She'd tried multiple times to break it, but it was no use. Sadly, for the normally prepared woman, she and the king would have to wait—for rescue or for a slow, cold, agonizing death… She wasn't sure which would be the outcome, but given her generally pessimistic outlook on life, she wouldn't be surprised if it were the latter.

"I am so sorry you're caught up in this mess," Eirik mumbled as he withdrew his hands, trying to give Isolde more access to the small firelight. "It seems I'm always screwing up somehow, but I never meant to get an innocent person caught in the middle of my mess."

Isolde frowned, glancing at him. "Eirik, this isn't your fault. We were about to handle the situation when we were ambushed. It happens."

"Yes, but this isn't a normal 'it happens,' Isolde… We could die." He yearned to grasp his staff, which had become something of a comfort item to him over the years, but he remembered that it was still back at the castle. He was also made very well aware that while Isolde was still dressed in her usual uniform, he was only in his pajamas with his robe now tightly tied due to the cold. It didn't stop the frigid air from seeping through the somewhat thin material though. "I mean… Not to sound morbid, because I wouldn't wish this situation on anyone, but…"

She sighed, lowering her hands to her lap. "Can we change the subject? Please?"

He nodded, hearing the tense edge in her voice. He decided to do something he'd wanted to do the last several weeks: get her to open up a bit more. "So… I know we've talked a lot since we've met, but… I think I did most of the talking. I know your job now and your most recent experiences, but other than that, I don't know much else. Who are you, Isolde? What's your story?"

The former sentry balled her fists, as if trying to grip any shred of composure she could. "We're doing that, huh? How sordid of a story can you handle?"

The king eyed his private magister regent with interest, a small smile forming just on the edge of his lips. "Try me."

Resigning herself to the situation at hand, Isolde sighed heavily. "I know I told you recently about my last job with the Conjuror's Board… Escorting former Queen Ember to Limboris and all… And I think I mentioned that I wasn't alone."

"Yeah, that partner guy… Elliot?"

"Elias." She folded her arms. "We were more than work partners. Several years ago, we were also romantically involved."

"Oh." Eirik wasn't sure how to take that information. For some reason, he'd just assumed that she'd been too busy with work to fall in love with anyone. Of course, it was clear that wasn't the case with her now, so… "What happened with that?"

"I got pregnant." She pushed her fingers toward the little flame in the lantern again. "Wasn't trying to… Never even thought of being a 'mom' or anything. I'm not exactly very nurturing, as you know by now." She couldn't help the little smile that appeared on her features when she heard the king chuckle warmly. Her smile faded, though, as she continued her story. "Elias wasn't thrilled with the news. To be fair, neither was I, but there wasn't much we could do… We argued more about it—him saying I'd done it on purpose, and me telling him he was half of the reason for my condition at the time." She rolled her eyes, trying to hide the moisture that had glazed her irises for even the quickest of moments. In a blink, the unshed tears were gone. "It took a few weeks, but he finally seemed to come to terms with the pregnancy. I wasn't showing or anything since it was still early, and we continued our duties like normal. But he did apologize to me for acting like a jerk."

"How noble," Eirik muttered, scoffing.

"Right? Before long, we both became a bit fonder of the idea of having a child together. We even tossed around names: Elias, Jr.—for a boy, of course; and maybe Eleanor for a girl—Ellie for short. Either way, the baby had a connection to Elias and his name…" She briefly closed her eyes, shaking her head. "But one night, I woke up, drenched in sweat and blood. I'd suffered a miscarriage…" She looked away from the king as she saw his posture stiffen out of the corner of her eye. "Even though I thought things were better, although I knew he'd been seeing other women (especially when we fought, which was often), that damaged me. It messed with my emotions and heart more than Elias ever had. I'd never wanted to be a mother, until I was a mother for…a very short period of time."

"Isolde…"

"I sometimes still have nightmares of that night… I still see all that blood. I swear I hear the shrill cry of a ghostly baby, or…" She frowned. "After it happened, I thought Elias would be there to help me heal, but he pretended like nothing was wrong… He went back to other women, spending night after night with many of them, probably getting them pregnant too… But I pushed on, acting like I didn't care. I had to be strong, frigid, wise-like I'd always been…" She groaned softly, lowering her warmer fingers to her knees, which were hurting through the rough texture of her pants. "But I'm not heartless, Eirik… I have feelings. I felt the loss of that baby… I knew Elias was choosing a life of shamelessness over a life with me, and at some point, I just stopped caring. We continued being work partners, but I cut off all romantic contact with him. The first time, he raised a hand to me but never struck me. The second time, and from then on, he just shrugged it off. He was more than satisfied with numerous other women, so it didn't matter…"

"I'm…very sorry you went through that…" The Venburg king straightened up a bit, rocking forward into a hunch to keep himself warm. "You didn't deserve such a thing."

"Thank you, Eirik… It was a long time ago." She eyed him curiously. "What about you? I'm guessing you never had that level of romantic drama."

"I'd have to have romantic anything first." He tapped his bare foot against the cold stone of the cave, but he could hardly feel the chill anymore. "I sequestered myself away most of my life due to my limitations, and due to my role as the king. I had a desire to rule like my Uncle Kresten and Aunt Roselyn had done. They were my heroes…"

Isolde found herself smiling gently as she heard him speak of his aunt and uncle. The way he talked about them made them feel real—or rather, like they were still around. It was interesting to her.

"Despite the pressure from my advisors, I never bothered trying to pursue a wife. 'Princess Luella from Orangeland would be a good match. Their primary export is potatoes.'"

"Maybe they should have called it Potato Land then," Isolde told him, and she couldn't help laughing lightly at her own joke. She was pleased when he did the same.

"I said much the same, but you'd be astounded to find how few of those advisors have a sense of humor. Well, given the circumstances, perhaps it's not that much of a surprise." He shrugged. "In any case, despite my efforts to run the kingdom the way I was taught, I'm so weak and limited now, that no one would likely want to put up with me. What sort of husband would I be to a woman who would likely have to hold half my body weight just to get me to the bed? And don't get me started on dressing…" He sighed.

"Don't sell yourself short, Eirik," Isolde told him gently, smiling at him. "You might have limitations, as you call them, but you're very attractive and equally kind, which would appeal to anyone if you wanted to pursue her…" She noticed the curious expression on his face, and she felt her cheeks warming up under his gaze. "I mean… You're a king, and a good man. Any woman would be stupid not to see that."

Eirik smiled fondly at Isolde, whom he now considered a friend. A good friend. "Thank you, Isolde." Or maybe… He pushed that thought aside and focused on the key issue at the moment. "You know, I know a way out isn't exactly an option right now, but perhaps we should at least try to find some semblance of food and get some rest. I think staying awake too long in this environment may not be a good idea…"

Although she wasn't exactly sure where they were going to find food in a place like this, Isolde nodded in agreement. Something about this man made her have hope, which she rarely allowed herself to feel. "I'd also like to have a real fire… If we can find some timber, maybe I can get one going."

Since Eirik wasn't able to move much, he rested against the cave wall while Isolde found the restricted supply of sticks and twigs that were available to them. He watched as she used some pieces of flint to spark a fire among the wooden fragments. To him, despite being surrounded by royalty over half his life, and having connections to the most attractive women in the land, nothing was more attractive than a self-sufficient problem solver who refused to give up, despite clearly dire circumstances.

Isolde was also soon able to find a few edible berries, which she shared with Eirik as she sat down next to him. They ate in relative silence, with the fire burning calmly before them, an ironic warm calmness that rivaled the increasing storm outside.

Several minutes passed before Isolde was startled to find an added pressure against her right shoulder. She glanced down, finding Eirik leaning against her, his head reclined just below her jaw. She blushed a bit, but instinctively, she cautiously wrapped her arm around the king, gently caressing his arm in a soft manner, her fingers slipping through his long blonde locks every now and then. On her lips, a warm smile formed, while the king began snoring softly. "Get some rest, Eirik…"

And once more, despite the dangers surrounding them, and the uncertainty of their future, Eirik and Isolde slept peacefully next to one another—a comfort neither had experienced in many years.

To be continued…

Next Chapter: Deeply Rooted