A Promise of Fire
Chapter 4
Emli walked the streets of Lionbrand alone. She couldn’t quite remember why she was alone, nor did she remember what she was doing. She’d just been walking. She looked around for someone–anyone–who could help her find her way back to the temple, but there was nothing, no one; she was completely alone. Her only company were the thousands of stars that flickered in the night sky. Not even the moon was out that night.
Walking the dark, abandoned streets, Emli knew something was wrong. Nothing felt quite right. It wasn’t hot nor cold, nor could it even be described as silent, as the sound that rang in her ears wasn’t a noise, but instead a feeling.
She stepped out from an alley, over cracked and jagged cobblestone, and into the city’s market square when a bright light suddenly beamed down upon her. No, not bright; it was a damp light, one so subtle that it would hardly be noticeable if not for how much it illuminated the entirety of the square.
Emli looked up where the light was coming from and nearly collapsed. Looming above her was a massive full moon that bored down upon the city.
And then there was nothing: not the square, not the city, just emptiness. Emli stood alone in the darkness with just the moon. Her legs trembled, and she wanted to turn back and run, but she didn’t know where she’d go.
Why was she here? What was she doing? What was going on?
Emli fell to her knees. From every angle, she could hear a strange rustling sound, but no matter where she looked, there was nothing but darkness. She scrambled to her feet and tried to run, but no matter where her legs took her, she always returned to that familiar darkness at the heart of the square with the moon glaring down at her.
Wait? She was back? Yes, somehow Emli found herself once again standing in the heart of the market square, but this time she wasn’t alone. Instead, there were dozens and dozens of faceless shadows that stood at abandoned merchant carts and street corners; some stood behind store windows, and others within Leonheart’s fountain. None of them moved, yet Emli could feel them all turn and stare at her. They weren’t people as much as they were just the shapes of people, and when they saw her, they began to slowly approach.
The figures did not speak–they didn’t even make a sound–yet somehow Emli knew that whatever these shadows were, they wanted to harm her. She could feel a malicious anger burning within them. She felt their hatred, and how they wanted to drown her in the fountain, or rip her apart limb from limb, yet none of them knew why; they just knew that they hated her, and they wanted her dead.
Emli didn’t know what to do. She tried to speak, but her words were caught in her throat; she tried to run, but her legs felt like they’d been turned to jelly. She couldn’t think, and she could hardly breathe. Unable to do anything, Emli looked to the sky and cried for help.
A great ball of light appeared before her, burning like a radiant golden fire. At first, Emli recoiled from the light. It wasn’t like the moonlight, but instead it was bright and vibrant like the sun itself, yet somehow it didn’t strain her eyes to look upon it. It was warm and comforting, and she could stare into it no easier than she could a flickering candle.
Within the heart of this light, Emli thought she saw someone. She couldn’t tell if it was human or elf, or perhaps any other mortal being, but from what she could see were its bright golden eyes. It looked at her fondly with a warm smile, and with a wave of its hands, the shadows disappeared, almost as if they were never there to begin with.
Unafraid, Emli stepped closer to the being within the light. She reached out, past the golden flames that surrounded it, and she couldn’t explain why, but something about the creature reminded her of Emecar. It felt warm and kind, and she knew she’d be safe around it.
Just as quickly as it appeared, the light was gone, and night resumed. The dark horizon became filled with raining balls of red flame that showered from the heavens; the screams of children rang in Emli’s ears. The figure in the sunlight loomed in the sky above.
Emli looked up at the chaotic skies and saw that the moon was no longer there, but instead a massive unblinking silver eye, which warped and twisted itself, revealing a second, and then twisted again to reveal the face of a colossal red Dragon.
Emli fell to her knees in awe of the beast–a God. The Dragon opened its maw and exhaled a stream of frigid silver flame. Emli closed her eyes, ready for the cold flames of death to embrace her, yet they never did, for the figure of sunlight stepped forward and raised its hands, creating a wall of its own vibrant golden fire.
As the flames collided with one another, there was a flash of white light, and then everything went dark.
Emli’s eyes shot open as she gasped for breath. She quickly sat up, back in her bed within the maidens’ quarter of the temple. The candle on her bedside had long burnt out, and the only light in their cramped little room was the moonlight that lingered in from the windows.
She rubbed her face—drenched with sweat—and stood to close the curtains. Outside, she saw the moon; only half-full as opposed to the full moon of her dream, but nonetheless it made her shiver.
A pit formed in her stomach, and Emli knelt at the base of the window, listening to the mutters and snores of the other sisters as they lay fast asleep. She offered a prayer to Sindelle the Elf-Mother: protect me, protect our temple, protect our temple; keep our loved ones safe from harm.
The prayer made her feel a little better, but she still couldn’t shake the terrible things she’d seen in her nightmare. The silver eyes of the Dragon, the faceless shadows creatures, the red sky, the heavens raining fire, and the figure wreathed in sunlight.
Emli sat back down on her musty, old bed and reached into the drawer of her nightstand. Before her journey as a maiden began, her family had gifted her a delicate leather bracelet, embedded with an Aether infused amethyst. It gave off a soft violet glow, and though she couldn’t control Aether, she could feel the gemstone pulse in her palm.
She dared not wear the bracelet under normal circumstances so as not to allude to her being an unsanctioned adept in the temple, but in that moment–under darkness of night–she thought it’d be acceptable. As she tied the bracelet to her wrist, she felt oddly reassured as the continuous hum of the Aether pulsed within. It was comforting to know that the life force within the bracelet was the same life force shared with her; shared with everyone.
Emli took a deep breath and realized just how dry her throat was. Had she been panting in her sleep? She tended to do that when she had nightmares. Quietly, she slipped out of the maidens’ quarters and made her way to the kitchen to brew herself some tea. As her footsteps fell upon the creaky wooden floors of the temple, Emli’s mind drifted back to her dream, particularly the figure in the golden flames and the red Dragon with silver eyes.
She wanted to believe that figure was supposed to be Emecar come to save her, but the more she thought about it, the less sense it made. For one, Emecar’s eyes weren’t golden, nor could he conjure great flames of sunlight; no, the more she thought about it, the more Emli believed that the figure was Azuhiel, the Father of Sunshine, Gold Dragon of Life and Creation, but that just raised the question of who the red Dragon was.
Emli’s first assumption would be Angelus, the Goddess of Chaos, but all depictions of her said that she had red eyes that matched her scales, not silver. No, silver eyes would make the dragon resemble Velhien, the Mother of Moonlight, Silver Dragon of Death and Destruction.
The longer she thought about it, the less either of those options made sense. From all the tales and legends she’d been told, though Azuhiel and Velhien were opposites, they shared an unwavering love for one another; for without one, the other would cease to be, and thus the world itself would end. They were the mother and father of all things, the creator and destroyer, life and death, sun and moon, light and dark.
Once she arrived in the kitchen, Emli began to brew some lemongrass and chamomile tea. She lit the stove and sat at the long, rickety table, waiting for the water to boil, all the while more thoughts of the Dragon-Gods flooded into her head. Apart from Azuhiel and Velhien, there were the five children: Angelus, Red Dragon-Goddess of Chaos and Saiqa, Blue Dragon-God of Law were said to be in constant competition with one another; while Lechelle, White Dragon-Goddess of Love and Megidos, Black Dragon-God of Malice were said to utterly oppose each other. Zarael, Green Dragon-Watcher of Destiny was the mediator who brought them all together in unity.
Lost in thought, she nearly forgot to take the kettle from the stove as it started to whistle. Startled, she hopped from her seat and poured herself a small cup. As the steam filled her nostrils and she took her first sip, she heard a creak from behind.
“Sister, are you alright?”
Emli dropped her cup, shattering it on the ground. She spun to see Sister Claire standing in the doorway, looking just as frightful as Emli.
“I-I’m sorry, sister. Y-Yes, I’m…” Emli quickly grabbed a wash towel and knelt, frantically wiping up the hot tea. Claire knelt beside her, holding Emli’s hands.
“I heard you stirring in your sleep,” said Sister Claire. “You can tell me what’s wrong.”
Emli didn’t necessarily want to tell Claire about her nightmare—it felt too persona; too embarrassing—but thought if she couldn’t trust her fellow sisters, who could she trust. “I-I had a dream. I saw Azuhiel, and-and he…I-I’m sorry.”
“No, no, don’t be,” said Claire helping her to her feet. “You say you saw Azuhiel in your dream, did you? Well, what did he say?”
“Well, I should say I think it was him, and he didn’t say anything.” Emli paced around the kitchen, scouring for a broom to sweep up the shards of her teacup. As she got to the window, she looked outside and up to the moon. “I saw this man with bright golden eyes covered in golden flame. He saved me from this…this red Dragon with silver eyes. It was almost as if this Dragon and he…I’m sorry, it sounds foolish. It was just a dream.”
Claire nodded. “Reading into dreams can be foolish, I agree. There are times it can be, well, dangerous.” She stepped up beside Emli and the two stared at the moon together.
Emli’s heart sank. She knew dreams weren’t always just dreams, and maybe this dream wasn’t; perhaps it meant something more. There was an Arte, long forbidden by the people of Singard, in which one could venture into the dreams of others; to peer into one’s deepest thoughts and alter them from within: Lunamancy.
“You don’t think this dream could be anything, do you sister,” asked Emli.
Claire let out a deep breath, and her hands gripped tightly to the windowsill. “I don’t know. I just pray that it doesn’t mean something terrible is coming.”
The Lady’s Rose wasn’t the most prolific or well-respected tavern in Lionbrand, but it certainly wasn’t the worst. Emecar and Rukifelth had frequented many taverns over the years, many containing raucous rabble-rousers and loud drunkards who were always looking for a fight. By comparison, the Lady’s Rose seemed like a rather upstanding establishment. The exterior was clean, and the trash was swept; the signage above the door was well presented, and inside, there was no shouting or screaming. No, the only sound coming from the tavern was that beautiful and otherworldly voice.
As they stepped in, Emecar was dumbfounded to see the sizable crowd all watching in silent adoration as if it was a proper performance at a theater. At the far end of the tavern was a makeshift stage. On it, a small group of performers played their music. The trio of musicians each wore bright and flamboyant green, blue, and violet outfits that glinted enchantedly in the flickering candlelight. They consisted of two humans–a man and a woman with dirty blonde hair and infectious smiles–played the guitar and violin, and a massive dwarf man with a great gray beard stood at the back playing a large concertina.
They were all so incredible with skills unlike anything Emecar had ever seen or heard: the guitarist replicated the beating of drums by thumbing the body of his guitar with his hand between strokes without missing a note, the violinist wore shoes that elicited faint but sharp taps with each articulated step, and the Dwarven concertinist stomped his feet with such grace and finesse to create a precise yet heavy thumping bass.
However, most notable was the singer: a beautiful Elven woman wearing a dark violet gown that contrasted with her pale lavender skin, her long raven hair draped down her back like silk, and her piercing ocean blue eyes bored into the crowd. In addition to her singing, the woman danced beautifully. Her gestures flowed like that of a river and crashed like that of waves; the way she could move so free yet distinct, and how her voice–so beautiful and jovial, yet haunting and otherworldly–never faltered was absolutely stunning.
Emecar couldn’t believe such a voice could exist, let alone in a tavern such as this, yet there it was. Despite the performance going on behind her, Emecar couldn’t take his eyes off of her, nor focus on anything other than her enchanting voice.
“G’evening messieurs,” said a barmaid gesturing them in; Emecar hadn’t noticed her right away. She was a young human girl, probably a year or two younger than he and Rukifelth, with tan skin and red ribbons tied in her curly brown hair. “Take a seat where you can find one,” she said, “and I’ll be with you in a moment, eh?”
They nodded, both captivated as the singer took a bow and the crowd erupted into furious applause. The two took a brief moment to look for a place to sit, but every table and chair was taken, so they resorted to stand by the wall, cramped between the other patrons who’d been forced to stand and watch.
Emecar couldn’t believe just how many people fit into the dingy little tavern. No, with how incredible the show was, he could absolutely believe it. But were all of them here just to watch this performance, and where had these performers come from; how long had they been here?
The barmaid eventually returned, carrying a tray full of mugs of beer and ale. “Glad to see you found a spot,” she said giddily over raucous crowd. “Care for a drink, messieurs?”
Emecar pulled two copper pennies from his pocket and said, “Two, please.”
Quickly, the barmaid nabbed the coins from his fingers and tucked them into her apron. “Be right back. Call for Chloe if you need anything,” and then she was off, bucking and weaving through the packed tavern as if it was nothing at all.
As the crowd wound down and the band began their next song, Emecar leaned against the wall, rubbing his wounds. He wondered how they must’ve looked walking into the tavern covered in tattered clothes and bloody bandages, yet no one really took notice. He looked around and realized that they must not look to out of place from most of the other patrons in the bar.
He tried to relax and push the thought of the fae attack from his mind; that would be an issue for tomorrow. It may have only been the slums, but fae shouldn’t have been that close to the city, especially not that many; especially not that four-armed monster.
Why did it seem so familiar? Have I seen it before?
Emecar closed his eyes and listened to the music; he imagined himself dancing with Emli to the song. He swayed back and forth, imagining how he’d spin her around and pull her close. He could see her smile and hear her laugh.
There was a tap on his shoulder, and Chloe said, “Sorry to disturb you, monsieur, but you can’t sleep here, even if you stay standing.”
Emecar’s eyes fluttered open, and he looked at the young barmaid smiling up at him. “N-No, I wasn’t sleeping, I was—” She laughed and handed him his beer. Emecar blushed and thanked her as she turned to give Rukifelth his drink.
“Thank you very much, mademoiselle,” he said taking his first sip. He handed her two additional copper pennies, and her face lit up, taking them excitedly before frolicking back to her work. Rukifelth turned to Emecar and said, “Quite the voice on this girl, eh?”
“You can say that again,” said Emecar. The singer spun around mid-verse, her voice never faltering. “It’s beautiful.”
Rukifelth raised his mug in a toast and said, “To a job well done, brother. May we live to fight more monsters in the future.”
Emecar laughed and raised his own mug, clinking it against Rukifelth’s. The beer tasted surprisingly good. Perhaps the tavern had a good supplier, or perhaps it was just the stress of the day being washed away by the alcohol that was satisfying; either way, Emecar drank, and drank, and drank.
“Booze really hits the spot, eh,” said Rukifelth.
Emecar wiped his mouth and said, “Damn right it does.” He reared his head back and took another massive gulp. “Y’know, maybe we should’ve given that sergeant a good soak in the mouth.”
“Really?” Rukifelth sounded happily surprised. “I’m glad you’re starting to see things my way!”
“I do, and I’d think he’d deserve it,” said Emecar. After finishing his beer, he closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall, allowing the music to wash over him again. “But then again, maybe that wouldn’t be such a good idea. We’d get into an awful lot of trouble for attacking an officer, let alone a sergeant.”
“I ‘spose you’re right,” said Rukifelth.
The song came to an end, and the tavern broke out into another eruption of cheers and applause. Emecar opened his eyes and smiled, joining in with the raucous crowd. The woman curtseyed gracefully, and the trio behind her gave a flourish of their instruments before bowing.
The singer stepped forward, her arms extended to the audience and said, “Thank you all so very much for coming. You’ve been such a wonderful audience this night.” Her voice was just as melodious speaking as it was singing. The crowd cheered again, crying for an encore, but the woman gracefully calmed them. “I take it you’d like another song?”
The crowd cheered, Emecar joining them; he wasn’t ready for the night to be over just yet. The woman smiled and turned her back to the audience, displaying a wide gesture of her hands as if conducting an orchestra, and the trio began to play another song: the violinist began with a somber melody, gently dragging her bow across the strings; the guitarist followed behind, playing soft arpeggiated chords, and then the concertina joined in with a soft melancholic harmony that lingered over the top. As the woman began to sing, the entire tavern listened in silence.
Emecar’s eyes drifted shut. She sang in traditional Galdic, and despite not knowing the language, Emecar could somehow understand the words as the story unfolded before his eyes:
Moonlight, o’ light, how cold thee shine,
For prayer and wish this day never end.
My heart does crave such sweet saccharine
Words, yet the hope night shall rend.
For these last few hours are my wish,
To hold you in my arms and my heart lay bare,
And though no matter how passionate my kiss,
Thy prayers of the moon show callous care.
No storm so fierce nor mountain so high,
Could tear you away from me so,
Yet the faintest of winds where dreams die,
Could drag you to one place I cannot follow.
So now I ask you wait our one last adventure
For me, when my eyes last close forever.
Emecar felt something smack into his back and cold beer splash onto his face. When his eyes opened, more than a dozen eyes all stared down at him; pointing, laughing, and berating him under their breath. His mug was empty.
“By fire, Emecar, you sure you’re alright,” asked Rukifelth helping him to his feet.
The music had stopped, and Emecar heard the singer say, “I’m sorry, monsieur, are we boring you?”
He looked up and met the woman’s cold blue glare. “N-No! I’m sorry, I just—”
She hopped down from the makeshift stage and sauntered her way through the crowded tavern, the patrons all stepping aside to clear a path for her.
“It’s very rude to…” Her voice trailed off as she got a good look at Emecar. She gasped, covering her mouth as if he’d done something to disgust her; was it his appearance? Did the bloody bandages and torn coat upset her that much? Her gaze shifted over to Rukifelth, and she seemed just as stunned to see him.
“I-I’m really sorry,” said Emecar. “Truly, I didn’t mean to offend.”
“How are you…” she started, “I mean…have we met before?”
“I think we would’ve remembered someone like you,” said Rukifelth.
“Y-Yes, of course. My mistake,” said the woman under her breath. She cleared her throat, and her voice picked up for the whole tavern to hear. “As I was saying: it’s rude to doze off during a performance, monsieur. Was my song really that boring to you?”
Emecar heard a couple chuckles coming from the other patrons. Was this all a part of her show? The way she projected her voice as so it would carry throughout the tavern, and the wide exaggerated gestures she made certainly it feel that way. Was he just an unwilling participant in this performance of hers?
“N0! It’s beautiful, honestly, it’s just that, w-we…” Emecar wasn’t sure what to say next. Was he just supposed to say they’d had a long day, or did he try and make up something to sound more grandiose?
We just got into a fight with some fae, mademoiselle, that’s all.
“Well?” The singer said, eagerly waiting for his response. Emecar just blushed and apologized. A sinister grin spread across the woman’s face. “If that song was a bit too droll for you,” she said, “why not something a bit more chipper? Would you like, monsieur?”
Emecar felt his cheeks grow hot; he knew trying to explain himself any further would just result in him embarrassing himself. He nodded.
Delighted, the woman skipped back to the stage. Emecar couldn’t believe how foolish he felt; dozing off in the middle of the tavern, beer splashed all over him. He felt like the drunkards he’d occasionally had to throw out of places like this.
As Emecar tried drying himself off, Rukifelth leaned over and whispered, “She’s feisty, ain’t she?”
“Y-Yeah.” Emecar looked down into his empty mug and thought about ordering another beer, but he wasn’t sure if that was such a good idea or not. He felt the eyes of other patrons glowering at and mocking him, and against his better judgment, decided to wave Chloe down for another drink.
The singer hopped back onto her stage and made an elegant flourish. The band immediately jumped into another, jauntier tune, and once the band started playing, she clapped her hands in rhythm, encouraging the audience to do so as well. Most joined in, even Rukifelth who nudged Emecar and told him to stop being such a spoilsport. Emecar laughed, and as Chlore arrived with his second drink, he handed her two more pennies.
As the song continued, Emecar decided to join in with everyone: singing, tapping his foot, and clapping along with the other patrons. His embarrassment slowly dwindled as he watched the quartet of performers work their spell over the crowd.
There was just something about the singer, Emecar thought, that intrigued him; the way she would pirouette as she sang, yet her voice wouldn’t hiccup. How she could hit every note with perfect intonation that resonated throughout the tavern was mesmerizing. It even sounded like she could harmonize with herself.
Her voice was otherworldly.
And then, Emecar saw the candles on the wall change color: from red, then to green, then blue.
That’s not right.
He looked around the tavern to see if anyone else had noticed, and somehow, he’d missed the massive blue and green bonfire at the center of the room. That certainly wasn’t right, he thought. His eyes widened as he watched the vibrant, colorful flames whirl together. Emecar slapped his face, pinched himself, and did everything else he could think of to try and wake him from this strange dream, yet the flame still roared.
The singer hopped from the stage and began to dance around the whirling bonfire. As she danced, the flame began to take different shapes, and its color shifted to yellow and violet, and then back to blue and green. Others began to join her in dancing around the multicolored flame; even Rukifelth, much to Emecar’s surprise.
He couldn’t believe what he was seeing, but his nervousness soon faded when he saw the singer run up to him, grab his hand, and pull him towards the bonfire for a dance.
Emecar felt lost. He was just in the Lady’s Rose, wasn’t he? He looked up and saw the stars, and the moon, and clouds; and now the singer–who’d just reprimanded him for dozing off–was dancing with him? He struggled to take his eyes off of her, but there was something about how the light from the fire shimmered off her orange curls, and that passionate look in her amber-yellow eyes was intoxicating. And then Emecar realized it wasn’t the singer he was dancing with; it was Emli.
What was she doing here? When did she get here?
It didn’t matter. Emecar thought his heart was about to leap out of his chest when he saw her. The way she moved and danced filled him with so much joy that all his fears and troubles from the day had faded away. Exuberance ran through his veins, and he felt the same as he had back when he first confessed his love to her.
But just as he was about to pull her close–to kiss her and say how much he loved her–everything was gone. In an instant, Emecar was back in the Lady’s Rose; there was no bonfire, and Emli was nowhere to be seen, but he could still feel her hand in his.
“What are you giggling at over there,” said Rukifelth.
“Huh? N-Nudding!” Was he really giggling, thought Emecar? “S-Say, didya see tha’?”
“Yessir,” said Rukifelth, “I haven’t taken my eyes off of her.”
“No! Not her! Did you…” but Emecar’s mind went blank. He couldn’t remember what he was about to say. Something about fire? That sounded right; he thought there was a fire in the tavern, but as he looked around that clearly wasn’t right. “She…it…” Then he hiccupped.
“You sure you’re alright, brother? You’ve been drinking quite a bit.”
Emecar stared down at his beer mug: it was empty. Already? No, he’d spilt it, hadn’t he? No, that was earlier. He’d…?
He began giggling again before bursting into enthusiastic laughter and waving down Chloe for another.
The night went on and on, song after song, and Rukifelth watched as Emecar began to grow more and more belligerent. It got to the point where Rukifelth had to slump Emecar’s arm over his shoulder to keep him from toppling over.
It was strange to see his brother–so soft spoken and polite–transform into some jovial bargoer who’d gladly sing along and clap his hands to drinking songs. Then again, he couldn’t blame him; he’d enjoyed a couple of drinks himself, and the singing and clapping did help calm the stresses from earlier.
And then there was the singer; her voice was so mesmerizing. It almost made him forget about the fae, and the sergeant, and–he looked down at his bandage wrapped hand–all the other nightmares that lived in his head.
Emecar raised his hand and tried waving down Chloe again as she walked by: “M’dear, c’n I ‘ve ‘nother, please?”
“I’m sorry, monsieur, but I think you’ve had quite enough,” the barmaid giggled.
Rukifelth wasn’t quite sure what Emecar said afterwards, but it must’ve been funny because he buckled over laughing, almost collapsing to the floor if not for Rukifelth catching him.
“Thank you very much, mademoiselle,” said Rukifelth. He pulled another copper penter from his pocket and handed it to the young woman. “You’ve done quite the job tonight.”
“Have I? I hardly noticed.” She took the coin and leaned in close, whispering in Rukifelth’s ear. “After everything wraps up tonight, perhaps you could…”
Emecar buckled over again, speaking in his incomprehensible drunken stupor, and then laughed uncontrollably.
Rukifelth sighed. “I’m terribly sorry, but I think I got to make sure this one gets home safe tonight.”
Chloe puffed out her lower lip, but then giggled and said, “Well, can’t fault a girl for trying, can you, monsieur?”
She twiddled her fingers at him as she sauntered away and went back to taking care of the other drunk bargoers. Rukifelth wondered if he’d give that girl a visit within the next couple days and see if that offer was still on the table, but in the meantime, he had a two-hundred-pound drunk brother to take care of. He rolled his eyes down at Emecar, who giddily smiled back up at him.
“Quite th’ ‘mooth talker, aren’t’cha broth’r?”
“By fire, Emecar, what’s gotten into you?” He tried to stand Emecar up straight, but his brother’s legs refused to stay under him. “At this rate, you’re gonna run the whole tavern dry! Emecar?”
He saw Emecar stare blankly up at the stage. The singer announced their last song for the evening, and Emecar gave a boisterous cheer. Rukifelth’s legs nearly buckled under Emecar’s weight as he tried to hold them both steady.
“Th’s was a goo’ ‘dea! Gl’d I though’ ‘f it,” slurred Emecar, and his head slumped.
The band began playing their last song, another upbeat jaunt, and Rukifelth tried to smack some sense into Emecar. “Hey, are you listening to me? Emecar?”
Some nearby patrons began to point and laugh at Emecar, insulting him for his inability to hold his liquor. Rukifelth scowled at them, scaring off some, but just instigating others. “Whatcha gonna do, boy,” snarled one man. “Gonna fight with that lump on your shoulder?”
Rukifelth knew he could knock that man to the floor with one hand tied behind his back; holding up Emecar would just level the playing field. Still, he looked down at his bandaged knuckles from earlier and knew it wouldn’t be a good idea to start a fight in a crowded tavern, especially not in the middle of a song.
He leaned back, doing his best to ignore the mocking jeers of the other patrons, and listened to that woman’s magical voice wash away the chaos. Even with Emecar singing loudly in his ear, Rukifelth could hear that magical voice clear as day. It was relaxing, and despite everything he’d been through–the fae, the sergeant, the nightmares–this night felt so trivial. Who cared if they almost got snatched by fae; who cared if the sergeant was a pompous, arrogant jerk who refused to listen to them; who cared if that man…
No, there was something else about the woman’s voice. Something felt wrong. Despite its beauty, there was something that itched at the back of his head; something unnatural. It haunted him as it rang in his ears, the way it drew them into the tavern from outside, the way it made all the bargoers listen in reverence of her, and the way it carried over everything despite the other sounds in the tavern. Her voice was unlike any other.
As the band played their final notes and took their bows, the crowd erupted into a fervent standing ovation. The four hopped off the stage and began to make their way around the tavern, graciously asking for tips. The singer herself was swarmed by men and women alike, some offering compliments to her beautiful voice and other making flirtatious advances, however she seemed to pay them no mind. She simply accepted their kind–and occasionally lewd–words and their generous coin. From a distance, Rukifelth thought he saw a man place a whole silver regalian in her hand.
By fire, to give that much just for a good show?
Eventually, the singer arrived at Rukifelth and Emecar, cautiously eyeing them as she got closer. A mischievous smile grew on her face as she said, “It looks like you certainly enjoyed the show after all.”
“Is wonderful,” mumbled Emecar. “’ve nev’ heard anyth’ng like it!”
“You’re too kind, monsieur.” She gingerly offered her hand and said, “A couple coins for a good show?”
Emecar began frantically rummaging through his pockets in search of his coin purse, but Rukifelth stopped him. “This’ll be on me, brother. After all, you got the drinks for the evening.” Emecar smiled proudly, as if he’d done something triumphant.
Rukifelth rolled his eyes and pulled out the silver penter he’d received from Sergeant Astier. He sighed, thinking about how the entire endeavor from earlier was all just for a good show.
He placed the silver coin in her hand and said, “Quite the voice you’ve got, miss…”
“Lochren. Asta Lochren,” she said twirling the coin in her fingers.
“So, Lady Lochren,” he said, “where was it we last met?”
The woman pursed her lips and said, “I believe it was said that we hadn’t met before.”
“Yes, but you seemed so certain. In fact, it looked like you’d seen a couple of ghosts.” Rukifelth raised an eyebrow and said, “You don’t get a reaction like that for strangers.”
“Just a common mistake,” she said brushing him aside. “All you humans just look similar, that’s all.”
Rukifelth bit his tongue, deciding against saying something so utterly rude back. “Well, Lady Lochren, I’m more interested why someone with a talent like yours isn’t performing in those big opera houses in Zaldean, or even Galdcore.”
Tucking the coin away, she said, “I suppose it’s not all that easy. Nepotism is a thing after all. And what of you, monsieur…?”
“Asphodel. Rukifelth Asphodel, and this is my brother Emecar Valen.” He raised Emecar’s head just a bit so he could properly look Asta in the face. Emecar waved and giggled as he tried to speak, but his speech was too mumbled to understand anything. Rukifelth hoped that Emecar would vomit on the lady’s shoes for her rude comment, but unfortunately, that didn’t happen.
She curtseyed and said, “Well messieurs, it was a pleasure to perform for you. I hope to see you again soon.”
As she walked to the other patrons nearby, Emecar looked up at Rukifelth–his eyes glossed over–and tried to speak, but Rukifelth quickly caught him before he buckled over and threw up his stomach full of booze all over the tavern floor.
“A little late, brother.” He lifted him up, draping Emecar’s arm over his shoulders and said, “C’mon, time to get goin’.”
Rukifelth was thankful that most of the patrons had flocked to Asta and the other musicians; it made getting out of the tavern much easier. Carrying Emecar was finally starting to put a toll on his body; from the fae attack earlier, he could feel some of his wounds start to bleed through his bandages, and even though he hadn’t drunk as much as Emecar, he still had quite a bit of booze in his belly. His legs buckled as he walked, and unfortunately, Emecar wasn’t much help.
The cool night air washed over them as they got outside; the light of the streetlamps lit their path home, and the only sound Rukifelth could hear was Emecar’s humming of the various songs they’d heard in the tavern.
“Well, Emecar, did you have a good time,” Rukifelth asked. He wasn’t really expecting an answer; he wasn’t sure if Emecar was coherent enough to give one. He almost missed it when Emecar finally spoke:
“She’s so wonderful…”
“Oh, is that so?”
“She’s so beautiful,” he went on, “and caring, and kind. The way she smiles just…”
Rukifelth raised an eye. “Who are you talking about?”
Emecar’s head drooped, forcing them to stop. Rukifelth was prepared to watch his brother hurl the contents of his stomach all over the cobblestone streets, but instead, he said, “Y’know, I thought we might die today. I thought, when we was out and those things attacked…I was scared.” He hiccupped and continued, “I thought I’d never get to say goodbye.”
“Emecar, what are you talking about?”
Emecar lifted his head, gazing up at the open night sky and the endless horizon of stars. “I love her,” he said. “I love her more than anything. The way she lights up every room she’s in.” Emecar closed his eyes and quietly whispered, “Emli L’Aveline. That’s the girl I want to marry. She’s…”
He buckled over, and finally, threw up everything onto the streets, and even onto parts of himself.
As pathetic as it was, Rukifelth couldn’t stop himself from laughing. “You are quite the romantic, Emecar. Proudly declare your love of Sister Emli to Velhien, and then throw up all over yourself. Any girl would be lucky to have you.”
Emecar didn’t say anything; he just stared down at the street. Rukifelth helped clean him up and then helped him back up to his feet.
“C’mon,” he said, “let’s get you home.”