Embers to Flames (Fates Entwined #1)

Chapter Five

I’ve never stood anywhere higher than the top floor of the library, let alone flown… “what if I get too frightened?”

“You are going to love this. I can promise you.”

“I’m glad you’re so sure.” I say with a snark.

With my heart thumping wildly, I step towards him and stand so there are merely inches between us. He is so tall in comparison to me. He looks down and I slowly wrap my arms around his torso. I have no other choice but to nuzzle my face into his chest.

Gods above he smells good.

The intoxicating aroma of him overwhelms me. It’s a scent I know, yet it’s different somehow. It lingers in the air, teasing my senses and pulling me closer to him. The musky, earthy fragrance fills my lungs, and I can’t help but feel drawn to it. It’s like a magnet, drawing me towards him with an undeniable force.

“Is this ok?” I ask.

He nods as I close my eyes and lose myself in his fragrance once more.

“Hang on tight!” he says.

Before I can respond, my feet are off the ground, and we are one with the wind. Theo wraps his arms tightly around me, but I don’t dare open my eyes. All I feel is the pressure of those arms. All I want to feel are his thick firm arms. All I want to smell is his scent.

I can feel his heartbeat as we glide through the clouds. Each thump in sync with the flaps of his wings as he lifts us higher. We could have been falling instead of flying and I wouldn’t have cared. It is surprising to feel such warmth even against the coolness of the evening air. The world’s noises fade into a hushed silence, punctuated only by that rhythmic whoosh of his wings slicing through the air.

I’m not even sure how long we have been flying before he slowly lowers us down, descending in front of Meemaw’s cottage. As our feet are once again one with the land, he hesitates to let go of me. He takes one hand and brushes loose hair from the front of my face, tucking it behind my ear. His other hand is still on the small of my back. I take a deep breath and look up into those golden eyes.

“I told you it wouldn’t be so bad.” He says with a grin.

We stand there for a long moment. Only staring at each other. I catch myself in the daze and shake my mind free from it, taking a step backwards so he is forced to remove his hands from my body.

“Thank you. For flying me home I mean.”

“Of course. Anytime.”

I take a step backwards towards Meemaw’s front door. Theo takes a step backwards as well, not taking his eyes from my own. Then his wings unfurl, each feather shimmering with an ethereal luster that could outshine the finest silks. Suddenly he shoots into the air and blends in with the clouds.

I stand there for much longer than I should have, gawking up at the sky before the fact that he won’t be returning finally sinks in.

Meemaw is in her kitchen when I walk in. Stirring a pot of what smells like squirrel and potato stew over the hearth. I stand with my back against the door for a moment, still gathering my bearings after having had none up in the sky. I must be smiling because Meemaw stares at me with a perplexed look on her face .

“What is it dear? What’s happened that’s got you so happy?”

My eyes stay fixated on the ceiling. Staring at the many planters and branches that hang from the rafters. Floras that Meemaw uses in numerous ways. From salves for wounds to spices for stews. She keeps it reasonably warm inside despite the whistle of air that can be heard sneaking its way through the cracks and crevices of the walls. This cottage is where I grew up and it will always feel like home. No matter where I lay my head at night.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you Meemaw.”

I glide towards the table and sit down as she sets a bowl of stew before me. I blow off the steam and take a bite.

“It’s hot…” She starts, but I barely notice as I slurp at the broth, still too transfixed about what had just happened only a few moments ago.

“Alright now… you had better start talking missy.” She persists as she places a plate of her famous honey butter biscuits on the table before me. I grab one and tell her of Theodas and his wings and the flight over.

“Oh my!” She exclaims once I was finished. “Is he handsome?”

“Meemaw!” I cry with embarrassment. I can feel the heat in my cheeks. “You know it’s not allowed. Humans and Elves. It’s never happened before, and it isn’t about to happen now. Besides, I am a married woman. ”

Meemaw shrugs, “Life does and can change sweetheart. How have things been with you and Mikyl?”

I lift my shoulders in a shrug and shake my head.

“The same. He is still distant.”

I try not to tell her too much. I don’t want her to worry. She stares at me as if she is staring at a memory.

“You are so much like your mother. Every day I see more and more of her in you. I can only hope and pray to the Gods that you find the same happiness she did.”

My mother had died while giving birth to me. Or at least that is what her letter said. Meemaw raised me from a babe. She always told me that I came to her in a beam of pure light, left on her doorstep with a note attached to my blanket.

Mama,

I would like you to meet your grandchild. She was born of me on this day. If you are indeed reading this, please know that I was happy. But I did not survive the birth. Please raise her the same way that you raised me. With love and care. Teach her the ways of this world so she will be prepared for what is to come, but not fearful of it either. Please know that she was made from love and from love she will be blessed with the greatest gifts known to man. Her true light will shine in the darkness. Let her know I loved her. Name her Rosanhi. For she is as beautiful as the roses are when in bloom .

Always and forever, Lilyara

There was never a mention as to who my father was or how I had come to be on Meemaw’s doorstep. All she had was that letter and my name. She did everything that my mother asked of her though. I was raised with love, and I never feared life.

I met Mikyl and we got married. I thought by now we’d have children of our own, but the world had other plans. And this isn’t the world I want to raise children in. It has been almost a year since Mikyl has taken me to bed anyhow. Hard to bare children alone.

I finish my stew and start to help Meemaw clean up.

“Don’t you worry about that child. Get on home now. It’s late.”

She wraps up a few biscuits for me and places them in my knapsack, hugging me as she opens the door. Eulee is sitting like a statue on the front step.

“I guess there’s no reason for me to worry much with her to walk you home, is there?” Meemaw remarks with a reassuring chuckle. “I would hate to see the aftermath of the person who crosses you with her around.” I softly kiss her cheek and Eulee takes her place at my side to walk me home.

It’s not a far walk from Meemaw’s cottage to home. Ten minutes or so if I walk quickly, but it is certainly colder tonight. I’m sure the cottage is freezing. Hopefully the hearth has some hot coals still in it from this morning. It will make starting a fire much easier.

As I approach the cottage though, I can see firelights beaming from the windows.

Wow, Mikyl must be home . God’s above please don’t let him be drunk.

I peer in through the glass as I walk past, attempting to infer the situation before entering. Mikyl is sitting at the table in the main room. A mug sits before him, and he has a firm grip on the handle. He’s staring off into nothing. Eulee lets out a soft growl and I take a deep breath.

That can’t be a good sign.

“Go wait in the barn girl. I’ll be alright… do not come out of the barn until I call you.”

Begrudgingly, Eulee does as is commanded of her, only looking back at me once. Her sky-blue eyes gleam at me with worry. I wave her on reassuringly. Even though I am not so sure. She must stay away from the cottage because if she attacks him, the Elven guards will have her put down.

Nervously, I push open the door and let myself in. The warm air from the fireplace comforts my skin. Mikyl says nothing as I remove my coat and hang it on its hook next to the entrance .

“It is nice to see you home so early husband.” I start slowly.

He looks up at me and I take a seat at the table across from him.

“ Humph —You think I like being gone all night?” He decrees defensively. “You think I enjoy working in that market all day?”

Softly rolling my eyes, I respond, “I wasn’t trying to start an argument Mikyl. I was merely making conversation. Are you hungry? I can make…”

I begin to stand up from the table, but before I get a chance to push my chair back; Mikyl tosses his mug of mead across the room—it crashes against the wall with a loud thud. The amber colored liquid goes spraying and the mug shatters, leaving behind a sticky, sweet smell.

Mikyl pounces up from his seat in a rage. My eyes go wide, my muscles stiffen, and my heartbeat quickens.

“I cannot believe you had the nerve to come to the market today—in front of all those people—accusing me of something I had nothing to do with!”

He’s leaning over the table, pointing a finger in my face.

“Accusing you? I…I…I was not accusing you of anything!” I stutter with fear. “Mikyl please…I’m just really worried about you.” I plead with him to see reason.

“You should have seen the way people looked at me after you left… I didn’t sell much of anything today, thanks to you! ”

He isn’t even listening. This isn’t my husband. He isn’t mentally here.

I can’t move. My body refuses to budge. He has that look on his face. The one that tells me he isn’t only drunk. I have to get out of here. My mind races through the options.

I can make my way to the door and run back to Meemaw’s—no, I won’t put her in harm’s way.

I can get to the bedroom and barricade myself in like last time—maybe… will I be able to move quick enough to get the wardrobe in the front of the door before he charges it?

I just need to get to the front door and run for it. I’ll figure out where I’m going after I get outside—dammit. I’ll never have time to throw on my overcoat, I’ll freeze out there.

I don’t have any other options. Mikyl is still pacing back and forth, yelling obscenities, and blaming me for everything that has ever gone wrong in his life. “I’m just a lowly human peasant… nothing more than common waste!”

I need to distract him.

“Why are you still here and married to me if all I do is make you unhappy you drunken old fool!”

It is a calculated risk. I knew he would come straight for me—and he does—but being sober has its advantages. I swiftly move from the chair and leap to my feet causing him to stumble over the empty chair and he falls to the floor.

Now is my chance. I make for the front door. My hand is on the latch— damn!

My coat. My knapsack. I’ll need coin to get to the mainland .

I turn back and reach for them both. As I do, Mikyl surprises me from behind and wraps his hand around my left wrist. Tightening his grip.

“Where do you think you’re going? I’m not done talking to you— wife!” He growls at me with fury in his voice.

Before I can think to respond, he whips me backwards and pushes me over the table and towards the hearth. I fall hard against the cement and dirt floor, face first. My right-hand lands on red and orange coals that line the hearth. The taste of blood enters my mouth, dripping from my nose. The metallic taste coats my lips and I feel a pain in my right side, just under my chest. It pains me to take a deep breath.

I have a cracked rib, I’m sure of it.

I steer my eyes up towards my hand and realize—it should be burning—the heat from the coals should be searing my skin.

Yet they are not.

Mikyl grabs hold of the edge of the table, flipping it to its side as he charges towards me. I see him out of my peripheral, coming for me. Instinctively and without thinking, I take a handful of hot coals and hurl them in his direction. Burning red coals hit him in the face and he staggers backwards, screaming.

Eulee is howling. I can hear her call, far off and away. She is still in the barn .

The front door crashes open with ferocity and six armored elven guards enter the cottage. Mikyl stops screaming long enough to react to the intruders.

“What is the meaning of this?” he says, still clutching at his face. A large red scalding wound has appeared on his right cheek as it begins to bubble in a blistering form.

One of the guards steps forward, bellowing, “By the authority and word of King Varitan Eillynn of Quillyan, a warrant has been issued for you, Mikyl Hepburn, to be taken into custody and brought to Eirina for the crimes of which you are accused.”

“This is an outrage. For what crimes am I being accused?” Mikyl’s face holds a state of disbelief and shock as a thin, glowing white lighted rope appears before his wrists, binding his hands so he is unable to resist. I slowly— painfully —raise myself to my feet as one of the guards approaches me.

“Are you alright, madam?” he asks sympathetically.

“Yes—err… I think I am.” I reply, clutching my side, trying to breathe.

“Your husband will be taken to Kaladis to await transport. You may call upon Lord Erhorn for any other information you might require. Our high Lord will also be hearing about what was happening here this evening. These crimes will not go unpunished.”

The other guards escort Mikyl out the door, all the while he is protesting. “I didn’t do anything! Rose!... Rose!... You must believe me! Help me! ”

At this very moment, I cannot stomach even looking at him. I turn over a chair from its side to sit upright and take a seat. I think I am in a state of shock.

“What is my husband being accused of sir?” I ask the guard who had approached me.

“Murder, ma’am… Your husband is being accused of murder.”