Son of Ereubus (3 page)

Bella was a pleasant woman, plump and jovial much of the time. She was rather short with long, fine brown hair that she kept pinned beneath a white scarf, her cheeks always flushed a dusty pink. She’d been a presence in their home long before Ariana was born, first as a shy housemaid, then as Ariana’s caretaker after the loss of her parents.

Bella brought a loaf of bread to the table, along with a small bowl of apple butter. “I thought you’d appreciate this, Sara, being your favorite and all.”

Sara took the bowl from her, gratitude spreading across her delicate features. She was Ariana’s closest friend and had been since they were in school. She was the very definition of beautiful and had no knowledge of it whatsoever. The object of most men’s attention in the village, Sara would have been justified in being conceited — she was anything but, her ardent belief in the Adorians giving her an almost childlike innocence. Ariana tried not to condemn her too often for such foolishness, but with the festival approaching, it always became a sore subject between them.

Koen made himself comfortable beneath their feet, having waited until Bella was distracted to make his entrance, and chewed on pilfered bits of bread with the kind of silence that only beasts who eat stolen scraps are able to manage. Ariana reached down to graze the fur of his head with her hand.

“Ari, you’d better not be feeding the breakfast that I just slaved over to the dog, or you’ll be eating his supper instead of your own.”

“Sorry, Bella,” Sara offered, having fed him as well.

“It’s not your fault, dear. It’s the influence of the spoilt child beside you.”

Ariana frowned. “I am only spoiled on Thursdays and that’s several days away, thank you.”

“What mischief are you off to today?” Ariana knew what Bella meant to ask, and she didn’t appreciate it in the least.

“Whatever I’ll be doing, I won’t be doing it anywhere near here.”

“Alright, then. I suppose you’ll be leaving me here to patch all of these costumes myself,” Bella remarked.

“You know I hate this time of year,” Ariana tried to soften her tone, but the words still sounded coarse.

Bella shook her head and turned back toward the hearth, a reprimand rasped under her breath. “It’s a shame for such a pretty young girl like yourself to be so sullen all the time.”

“What are we celebrating, Bella? Please, tell me it’s our ill fortune, tell me that we’re celebrating years of near-famine and hardship. Say any word to me,
anything
but victory. Never has there been a word I’ve loathed more.” Why did they all insist on discussing this with her when nothing had changed?

Bella heaved a great sigh. “I just want to see you happy — everyone does. I cannot tell you how many of your friends have made mention of your disposition as of late.”

Ariana sat in silence for a moment. She looked at Sara, who cringed. Though Bella’s comment wasn’t unfair, it still seemed poor taste in regards to her timing.

“I’m sorry to disenchant everyone so. I can keep the anniversary of my mother’s death reverent without your help.” Ariana rose from the table and started toward the door, when Bella intercepted her.

“Do not leave this house ill with me.” She handed Ariana her cloak with a look in her eyes that defied her to refuse it. Ariana, accepting the cloak, reached for her satchel where she’d hung it on the wall and slung it over her shoulder. She had one foot out the door when Bella spoke again.

“I am not insensitive, child, nor have I forgotten your mother. I loved her, too.”

“Then be reasonable, Palingard has not been blessed. Ours is a dying realm, in case you’ve forgotten that as well — a realm that needs to be cautious with what little we have. This festival is nothing but disgraceful when you consider its cost.” She dropped the cloak and spun to cross the threshold to the dry dirt beyond.

Ariana walked the short distance to the stables, eager to be free of the whole world as she knew it, at least for a little while.

Palingard wasn’t very big. The houses were modest, with thatched roofs and stone walls. All things considered, Ariana had grown up a child of relative privilege. Her father had been an important member of the hierarchy and had led their men against the Ereubinians. He was periodically absent throughout her childhood, but stayed with her more often after her mother died. The last time he had left was more than ten years ago. Most understood him to be no longer living; rumors held that he’d been killed in the Netherwoods by Ereubinian scouts, but she’d never believed that story.

Her father had never met Koen, but would have liked him. She had found the dog at the edge of the woods, dirty and homeless, a short time after her father left. None of the other villagers wanted anything to do with him, he was nearly as big as she was and closely resembled a wolf. Other than livestock and horses, feeding animals wasn’t high on the villagers’ list of priorities.

Sara leaned over the side of the stall as Ariana tended to her horse, Shadow. “She didn’t mean anything by — ”

Ariana was not in the mood to hear it. More specifically, she wasn’t in the mood to hear it from Sara. Both of her parents were alive and well. “I don’t care what her intentions were,” she said sorely. “I should just stay out of everyone’s way for the next few days.”

The streets had already begun to transform. Ribbons reached from the corner of one roof to another, draping down in the middle to create a bright canopy. It wouldn’t be long before villagers would start to hang red-leafed wreaths on their doors and once nighttime arrived, each threshold would harbor blood-red candles to be lit in honor of the Adorians who they fancied were their protectors.

“I was afraid you would say something like that,” Sara said, “so I took the liberty of telling Jeremy that you would be attending the dance tomorrow evening and were in dire need of an escort.”

Ariana took her time responding. “You did not.” She wanted nothing to do with Jeremy. He was lazy and a poor swordsman. In fact, there wasn’t a single thing about him that appealed to her, save perhaps the sound of his footsteps whenever she was gifted with his departure.

“And just what would you have done had I been telling the truth?” Sara laughed. “I caught that fleeting moment of horror.”

“Oh, I don’t know, I’m sure I could think of something equally cruel.” She’d intended to keep a straight face, but failed miserably. “Like perhaps telling your betrothed in order to marry you he’ll have to grow wings — and learn to keep an eye on his opponent.” Sara’s intended, Jonathan, had lost a practice joust in recent days and Ariana had teased Sara without mercy about it ever since.

Sara frowned. “I was not imagining things. There was a white-winged Adorian knight in those woods as sure as I stand here now. In regards to Jonathan, as I’ve already stated, it wasn’t his fault.”

Sara’s recollection seemed convincing for a moment, but there was nothing about the hallucination that warranted merit. She hadn’t mentioned him in months, leading Ariana to believe Sara’s reasoning had won her over. Plainly it had not.

“I’m sure you weren’t imagining things. Why wouldn’t mystical beings have sympathy for the realm of man? We are such beautiful, brilliant creatures.” Just then, several disheveled men tore through the fields just beyond the entrance to the stables, chasing a young boy.

Ariana groaned as she realized who was among them. “Speaking of beauty and brilliance.” She grabbed the boy as he skirted toward them and threw him into the stall with her horse, just as the men came around the corner. The men stopped, having lost sight of the boy, their breath coming in staggered pants.

“Have you seen a boy come through here?” Jeremy approached with an instigative look on his face and leaned in as close to Ariana as he could without being improper.

“A boy?” Ariana grinned wickedly, unable to imagine this opportunity presenting itself twice. “What would you want with a boy? Or have you finally grown tired of losing to the other men in your swordplay?”

His left eye twitched as he turned to Sara, “Have you seen him?”

She shook her head, an innocent expression on her face that would have fooled even Ariana if she hadn’t known better. “No. What are you chasing him for?”

“It is the stuff of men. Proper initiation, if you must know.”

Ariana couldn’t help herself. It irritated her that he felt the need to address Sara’s question but ignore hers. “Perhaps I’ve been unfair in my assumptions,” Ariana said. She did her best to sound at the very least cordial. “It sounds like such a noble thing. What might this initiation consist of?”

Jeremy smiled and took her acknowledgment as an invitation to move closer. If it weren’t for the feel of the boy’s breath on her back as he cowered behind her, she would have moved.

“Far too gruesome for a fair maiden such as yourself. It’s simply something to prove the boy’s valor.”

“Fair maiden?” Ariana laughed. “My! Someone has been filling your head with fantasies.” She narrowed her eyes at Sara.

“He’s probably half into the woods by now, we’re wasting our time.” Jeremy gave her an awkward nod. She’d quietly moved both herself and the boy a good foot backwards. It wasn’t as far as she’d have liked, but it was enough to remove her from the stench of breakfast that lingered on his breath.

“Safe journey then, noble sir. Fare thee well.” She said it with more dramatic flair than she’d thought she had available, bending into an obscenely formal bow — careful not to go so low as to reveal their hideaway.

Jeremy’s face flushed and he cleared his throat. “Will I see you at tomorrow’s dance?”

“No. I‘ll be in mourning for that poor boy and whatever it is you’re planning on doing to him. Though I have to say, it appears that he’s already proven his stealth and prowess by eluding you.”

Jeremy couldn’t find the words to respond, but as he turned to walk away, he touched Sara briefly on the shoulder.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Sara turned to her. “That seemed unnecessary. Jeremy is an acceptable choice for a husband.”

She scoffed. “That’s rich coming from someone who has pined over a myth for years. I see the look in your eyes when Jonathan is around — it isn’t love.”

Before Sara could respond, the boy emerged from the stall. “Are they gone?” His face was bright red, his wet hair matted to his forehead.

Sara, having always been more sympathetic than Ariana, brushed his hair out of his eyes, as a mother would have done. “Yes, love. They suspect you’ve braved the Nethers. What trouble have you gotten yourself into?”

The boy shook his head. “No trouble. Just fun and games really, but I don’t like the one who was talking just then. Full of hot air, he is.”

Ariana grinned down at him. “Keep that sense about you. Your gut is often smarter than your head.”

The boy nodded, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Thank you. I’ll try to repay the favor one day.”

Sara waved him off with a pat on the shoulder, and then turned to Ariana. “What is it that so bothers you about them?”

Ariana didn’t have the slightest idea who she was referring to.

“Adorians.” Sara spoke the word with more reverence than most would conjure for their dead ancestors.

Ariana groaned as she secured her soft leather bow case with a full quiver of arrows to the saddle. “Something that does not exist cannot bother me, Sara. That’s all that it is — myth. We’re the last ones left. Even if they
were
real, they are obviously powerless against the Laionai.” At the sight of Sara’s expression, Ariana added, “That was harsh. I didn’t — ”

“I know. I just wish that I could make things easier for you.”

Ariana wanted to say something serious, something to express her sincere wish to respect Sara’s beliefs, but the words just wouldn’t come. “Well, you could start by not giving Jeremy false hope anymore. I’ll marry an Ereubinian before I’ll marry him.”

“I’ll try my best. Are you leaving now?”

Ariana nodded, calling Koen. “I’ll be back before too long. Tell Bella I’m sorry, will you?”

“I will. Three days?”

Ariana mounted Shadow, smiling. “Three days.”

She made it to the bluff in record time. Koen seemed to grin from where he sat in wait below the low boughs of her favorite Elpsis tree. “One of these days you’re going to tell me how you do that.” She smirked. “I’ve still got one thing on you though — you don’t have opposable thumbs.”

After tying her mount to the tree, she pulled a blanket from the satchel and sat down with her back against the trunk. She took a deep breath and looked out across the expanse. Her mind wandered over the previous years, the festivals she had tried to participate in that all had been disastrous, finally coming to contemplate the grave day they commemorated. As she closed her eyes, she envisioned her mother lying on the cottage floor close enough to touch Ariana’s hand. She had struggled to lift her finger to her lips, urging her only child to remain quiet and hidden. Her father had come in after it was over, still breathing hard from the battle. It had taken him a few minutes to regain his bearings and crouch down to find Ariana hidden below the bed. She could still feel his strong embrace and the cold metal of his armor on her bare feet.

It had taken years to recover from the loss. The carnage alone was a gruesome scene she was thankful to have only a vague memory of. Even before that day, she had grown up hearing dark tales about the inhabitants of Eidolon. The Ereubinians were rumored to have the power to steal the human soul and enslave it for their Goddess. But was it true? Those who were knowledgeable spoke only in whispers of Eidolon, often referred to as the City of Shadows, and of the Laionai. Though Duncan, her father’s closest friend, used to entertain them with stories of great battles and lore, her father abhorred any mention of either Adoria or its fabled war with Eidolon. She was lost in her thoughts when she heard a sound.

At first it sounded like thunder, a great rumble far in the distance. Then the sharp, piercing cries of the Dragee grew distinct. She hadn’t heard the sound in so many years that its foreignness kept her pinned to the tree.