14.

  Faelwen

  The night was merciless. Sleep was impossible on the hard ground, surrounded by moss that housed restless tiny creatures. When dawn finally broke, I found myself almost relieved, though exhaustion weighed heavy.

  The fire—our only comfort—had burned out during the night, leaving behind a thin trail of smoke curling into the now-clear sky. The clouds from last night had drifted away, leaving the horizon painted in a pale blue that hinted at another sweltering day.

  My arms and legs burned with the itch of countless red welts, and I cursed the bloodthirsty insects under my breath.

  “Bloody mosquitos!” groaned Ash, echoing my thoughts with uncanny precision.

  “Good morning to you too,” I muttered, attempting a tired smile. Ash turned to me, his expression twisting into mock horror as he surveyed my dishevelled state.

  “You look as pale as the dead,” he said bluntly.

  “I feel worse,” I admitted, groaning as I sat up. Pain flared through my back and arm, and a pounding headache promised a fever on the rise. Before I could slump forward, Ash caught me in his strong arms, steadying me against the nearby stone.

  “I’ve got you,” he said, his voice soft but firm. His grin, despite the grim morning, was maddeningly cheeky. I smiled weakly at him. He gently pushed me back into a sitting position and leaned forward, his face close to my face.

  “Even looking sick and half-dead, you manage to look not so bad.”

  I tried to swat at him, a grin threatening to appear on my face, but my sluggish arm made it an easy target for him to catch. He raised my hand, pressing a slow kiss to the space between my thumb and forefinger. A flutter stirred in my stomach, one I couldn’t blame on the fever. His eyes gleamed with mischief, knowing that the colour on my cheeks wasn’t from rising fever.

  He leaned in, his nose brushing my cheek and his forehead resting gently at my temple for a heartbeat, before he created distance again. Leaving the space between us empty and cold.

  I sighed involuntarily, somehow missing the comforting warmth of his breath on my cheek. Then he placed one hand next to my face against the stone. With his other hand he cradled the back of my neck. Massaging the stiff muscles. I groaned, the muscles sore and burning.

  He leaned in his lips lingered near mine, his knees brushing against mine as he moved closer in front of me. Suddenly extremely aware of his closeness, I gazed at his eyes. His cheeks burned and he swallowed hard before carefully edging closer and closer. Until he kissed my jawline creating a pleasant, tingling sensation in my entire body. His hands still kneaded the painful knots in my neck and shoulders.

  A momentarily thought brushed through me, maybe I had to stop him. But then the feeling in my stomach and heart wanted him to continue.

  “May I?” He murmured, his breath warm against my skin and his tone unreadable. He didn’t make me feel cornered. On the contrary, he patiently waited for my answer hovering before me, creating enough distance that I didn’t feel suffocated by his presence. I felt wanted by him. And even though I still didn’t know him that well, I wanted him back. And besides… It was just a kiss, right?

  My nod was almost imperceptible, as I reached out to his lips. Suddenly the pain in my back flared and I grunted. Ash pulled back, worry edged on his face, the warmth between us fading.

  Then a cold, wet nose shoved its way between us, breaking the moment. Artemis glared up at Ash with the disapproval of a stern parent, dropping a bird on my lap.

  Excuse me? What exactly do you two think you’re doing?

  “Artemis!” I groaned in exasperation, shoving the wolf’s broad muzzle away. But his golden eyes pinned me with an unyielding look.

  Listen, Wen. You’re an adult, and I get that you have… needs, but this guy? Really? Of all the potential mates in the world you pick someone unreliable? Someone destined to break your heart? You know it as well as I do. And besides you’re wounded. Not really the time to do any of that stuff.

  I crossed my arms, deliberately ignoring his judgemental speech even though I knew he was right. Ash, still kneeling in front of me, glanced between me and Artemis in confusion.

  “Artemis… objects,” I explained awkwardly. Ash ran a hand through his hair, flashing a roguish grin.

  “I gathered. And it’s understandable. I shouldn’t have done it in the first place. Wrong timing. Guess I’ll start the fire and deal with breakfast.”

  His words caught me. Wrong timing. Shouldn’t have done it in the first place. Those words settled heavier in my mind than I expected. A mixture of shame and disappointment slithered into my heart.

  Yes, you’d better, Artemis growled his disdain evident, increasing the shame I felt. I shook my head and shoved him away from me. He grumbled a little and I growled back at him. Our way of saying “get the hell out of my sight”. And he retreated to a patch of shade under the bushes, leaving me to roll my eyes.

  Ash reached forward to take the bird from my lap, but Artemis suddenly jumped forward and snapped his jaw close right in front of Ash’s hand. Ash quickly withdrew his hand, frowned, and walked back to the small fire.

  “Will you bring me the bird then, wolf?” he asked Artemis. Artemis refused to answer and turned around to retreat back to his patch of shade under the bushes. I sighed and tossed Ash the bird, who caught it deftly with one hand and started plucking it right away.

  After a sparse breakfast, Ash inspected the wound on my back, with Artemis judging eyes as public. The earlier feelings of shame and disappointment slowly faded to the background as the physical pain of my wounds occupied my mind.

  Ash’s expression darkened as he prodded the inflamed area. That look didn’t comfort me in the slightest.

  “This is getting worse,” he muttered. “I need herbs to treat it, but I doubt we’ll find anything useful here. And I don’t have anything on me right now.”

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  “What’s the plan then?” I asked, wincing as he packed up his supplies. Ash hesitated before pulling out his journal.

  “There’s another way. Have you heard of the Elvish healing arts?”

  I shook my head.

  “That I have elven blood, doesn’t mean I know their secrets.”

  “That bloodline might save you now,” He responded. He flipped to a page, revealing intricate notes on elven magic. His script was hurried but elegant, looping in places and cramped in others. And… I recognized… he wrote in elvish.

  “You have elven blood. And elves, thank Elyon, are remarkable creatures,” he explained, thanking the goddess who created the elves, “Elves heal differently. They draw directly from the Weave to heal battle wounds and sickness.”

  The word Weave tightened something in my chest. It brought all kinds of memories above. And one in particular, my magic being blocked from it for some reason.

  “It’s similar to spellcasting,” Ash said. “but slightly different since elven healers guide what’s already there. Here, read this.”

  Ash shoved his journal in my hands and pointed at a particular piece about the healing skills of elves. The letters were foreign at first, but then shifted under my gaze as Ash mumbled something. I realized he’d used his magic to translate the words for me. My eyes scanned the passage he showed me.

  As is shown in the old scripts, elves use the Weave to cure their wounds and illnesses, therefore live longer than other species. The body of the elves heal themselves to a certain extent because they are infused with the magical current. The magic flows through their veins and cures everything that is broken or damaged within the body. Some skilled healers who tend to the wounded of the battlefield, can guide these currents in themselves and in others to heal. With the use of their magic, they force the body to heal quicker. It does drain the energy and resources of the body from both sides. The healer and the wounded elf may suffer from exhaustion afterwards.

  My gut twisted at the thought of trying.

  “Sounds dangerous,” I said. “And I don’t think I can do this.”

  “It’s our best shot,” Ash said. He took the journal out of my hand and put it carefully back in his bag.

  “It isn’t saying how to do this,” I said unsure if I wanted to try and even more unsure if I was capable of doing this.

  “I’ll guide you.” Was all he said.

  “But my connection to the Weave is blocked,” I protested. “And even if I could use it, it drains me directly. I’m no seasoned mage.”

  He leaned closer, his eyes unwavering.

  “We don’t have herbs, Wen. Without intervention, this infested wound will become worse and might kill you.” It was the first time he used my name like that. Nobody but Artemis called me like that. I looked at him, his light green eyes stared straight back at me, pleadingly.

  Try it, Artemis interjected. But don’t expect miracles.

  I let out a breath through my nose and nodded. Ash sat across from me, his tone calm, but firm when he asked me, “Do you know what the Weave is?”

  The words of Malignus, the demon mage, popped up in my head and I answered, “It’s a magical stream that creatures use to draw their magic and strength from.”

  Ash grinned.

  “Indeed. You can see it as a silver river that flows underneath the Mid Realm. And I’ll teach you how to open yourself up to it.”

  I looked a little uncertain towards Artemis and he shook his head at me.

  You can’t use the Weave, Wen. Be careful.

  Why not? I sent the thought to him. He seemed to shrug.

  I think you’re about to find out. Was all he answered in return. Great! That didn’t do anything good to my already nervous state. I looked back at Ash, realising he probably had said something, seeing how he frowned his eyebrows at me.

  “Focus!” he snapped with his fingers in front of my face.

  “Yes, yes,” I mumbled, waving his hand away.

  “Since you were dreaming just a few moments ago, I’ll ask again. Are you ready?”

  I nodded in response. Artemis sat down beside me and automatically I put my hand between his ears for support. Here we go.

  “Follow my lead,” Ash said while he closed his eyes and led me through the steps I had to make before entering the Weave. “Breathe slowly in and out. Feel the earth underneath you. Listen to the sounds of nature and try to focus on a deeper sound. The sound of a babbling brook underneath your body…”

  I did as he said and started breathing more slowly. Feeling the earth. Imagining something coursing underneath it. A stronger power.

  “Picture your spirit as a house with windows and doors. The windows let the Weave trickle in gently. And the doors. Those are a floodgate. Don’t open them. You’re not ready for that.”

  I closed my eyes, visualizing the strange, shimmering room Ash described. My skin started to tingle. I felt the air turn static, raising the hairs on my skin.

  Open your mind’s eye, Wen. Only then can you see the magic you already possess. I heard Artemis’ voice vibrate through my room. I imagined myself opening my eyes again. Silver threads of energy floated lazily around me while I stood in the middle of my mind’s room. A room not bigger than a small bedroom that looked eerily familiar to my own bedroom in Barnabas’ house.

  I noticed the silver threads in the air were thin, wavering and falling apart. The magic seemed weak. By the window I saw Artemis’ soul sitting by the window. He didn’t feel like a visitor in this place. More like he was a part of me. Connected to me in a way I didn’t yet understand. Far, far away I heard Ash’s voice call out.

  “Keep reminding yourself for what purpose you need the magic. You might have to speak elvish for I wouldn’t know any other incantation to a healing spell.”

  His voice sounded as if echoing through a long tunnel. I moved to the nearest window. If I were to heal myself I would need more magic, more strength and power.

  The window was warm to the touch as if it was alive and breathing. I tried to pry it open, but it resisted. Artemis lounged nearby.

  You could at least give me a hand, I said through our bond. He shook his head.

  My dear Wen, I’m just a spirit in your head. I can’t touch or change anything in your body unless you give me permission.

  I grunted and sighed, irritation growing stronger as I pulled again with all my strength but the window wouldn’t even budge.

  “Yes!” I snapped, exasperated. “You have my permission to help me open this bloody window.”

  With a huff, Artemis braced against the window, and together, we pushed.

  “What are you doing?! Be gentle. Don’t force anything. Something is wrong.” I heard Ash’s voice echo through my room. I ignored the uprising fear and pushed harder. It cracked open slightly, but a sudden, distant voice filled my mind.

  You’re strong, Faelwen, but don’t break the spell it will consume you. Come find me instead, when the day’s last light fades. I can help you.

  Fear spiked through me.

  “Who are you?” I whispered, but the voice vanished.

  I told you, Wen. You can’t tap magic from the Weave for someone closed it from you. Artemis resounded in my room.

  I had heard this voice before in my mind. I couldn’t quite remember when. A vague image of a shimmering figure appeared in my head. Unfamiliar.

  “Who is this?” I asked Artemis. He didn’t have time to respond, because Ash’s voice called me back. His panic rising.

  “Wen! Are you alright? Wake up!”

  Oh no! I needed to wake up, but something was attracting my attention more. The throbbing pain in my body.

  I could feel the wound on my back in a more detailed way. I could feel how the skin was torn and how it was supposed to be connected. I could feel cells going from and towards the wound, trying desperately to keep the infection at bay.

  I first needed to fix that before I could come back to Ash. I focused my thoughts on that place. The silver threads responded to my wish. I tried to stir them in the right direction and willed my strength to let them surge towards the wound. I heard Ash’s voice again.

  “Faelwen! Stop this! Come back!”

  It broke my heart to hear him like that. I gritted my teeth. Not yet, I needed to heal or I might not survive at all. I focused on mending the torn tissue, stitching it together thread by thread. Time blurred, and exhaustion pressed down on me like a stone.

  “Come back to me! Faelwen, please!”

  I ignored his pleading with pain in my heart and continued. When I finally opened my eyes, Ash was beside me, his face streaked with dried tears.

  “Hey,” I croaked, nausea threatening to empty my stomach. Relief seemed to wash over him as he wrapped his arms around me. I put my arms around his neck in return and buried my face in his chest.

  “Don’t scare me like that again,” he murmured in my ear. “I’ve lost so much already. I don’t want to fail again.” Hurt lining his voice. As I leaned into him, I realized I started to care for him more and more.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered. Maybe Artemis was right to be cautious, but for now, I felt okay with him.