Record of Ashes War

Chapter 10 - Void

Elizia looked down at her hands, exhaling through slightly parted lips and staring a long while at the scarred tissue of her fingertips. An archer's hands. Her mother's hand on her shoulder, teaching a girl of eight how to properly hold a bow, how to properly draw the string.

"Stand straight," Sar'tara whispered. "Drawback to your ear. See your target. Feel the wind. Adjust. And loose."

She loosed just before her mother, impatient but confident. The dull arrow from her child's bow shot forward, soared, and then fell half a dozen feet before her. Her mother's arrow pierced the target board's center.

"I can't pull back to my ear," Elizia complained. "The wood's too hard."

Sar'tara smiled down at her.

***

Elizia's blinked while squinting. Morning light pierced through draped windows, illuminating dust particles. She shivered. Ice entered her body through her back. She shifted around, annoyed at the sticky feeling all over her skin. Her sheets were drenched with sweat. She tried pushing herself upright, rubbing her eyes to clear the edges of her vision, realizing her hands were still bandaged. They restricted the movement of her fingers. Seeing as how her hands no longer hurt, she began pulling the bandages off. Hardly a mark remained where her skin had torn from her own foolishness.

Elizia turned to set aside the bandages. She jumped, heart nearly bursting out of her chest. A grey haired woman sat not a foot away from her bed, smiling. "Master Meredith, how long…"

"All night, child," the physic answered.

"Right. Of course," Elizia mumbled. The woman was one of many skilled physicians under her father's employ. As the most learned in the craft, she'd become the garrison's head physic in recent years. She was a teacher to Elizia. "How long have I—"

"Several days."

Several days…? She had been bedridden for several days since coming down with a fever. She looked around the familiar room, noticing Emeria and Azurus wrapped in blankets, huddled in one corner with their eyes closed. Emeria's head rested on Azurus' shoulder. They'd been worried. Elizia smiled. It slowly turned into a frown. She recognized the many mahogany wardrobes —most of which were empty— and the white walls from which paintings of gardens and forests hung as not one she was used to. "This isn't Arcaeus. Its Metsiphon… They carried me back and— Mother's funeral! When—"

"Yesternight," said Meredith, her face grim.

"But the Song of Eagles. I didn't sing it," Elizia mentioned, voice cracking and tears forming.

"Her majesty the queen was present. She sung it in your stead." Meredith reached over and touched Elizia's forehead before wiping away her tears. "It isn't burning at least. You might need more rest. I'll ask your maid to have your sheets changed. And clothes too. Let me see your hands."

Elizia complied, staying silent and looking down. She was wearing a loose white nightgown. Her eyes grew heavy again.

"Hardly a mark," Meredith whispered, as if not believing it. "You'd practically sheared part of your own flesh. You may not Heal as quick as Lady Sar'tara, but it is still impressive compared to the average person. You have her blood after all. Your fingertips are rough just as your mother's are, but the rest of your hand is still soft like a gentle maiden's." Meredith brushed Elizia's hair. "Elizia, your mother is alive…"

"What…?" she breathed.

"Alive," Meredith repeated. "But unwell. It took me a while to recognize it. We studied the arrow she'd been shot with, scraping off remnants of the poison. It is something called the ten year poison. Or more commonly labelled Decade's Curse. I believe we glanced over it during my teachings. You know what it does, do you not?"

Elizia nodded, barely paying attention. Alive. That word rung in her ears. Her mother was alive. She had to go and see —she frowned. "But you said her funeral…"

"We took her out of the crypts."

"Then I have to go see—" Elizia stopped herself mid-sentence, hand clamping over her mouth. Decade's Curse. Meredith's lectures came back to her. The poison had no known cure. The afflicted remained in a coma for ten years before the poison claimed their life. No known cure… No. There had to be one. "Master, the medical books! We need to find a cure. There has to be a way recorded. We just haven’t—"

"Child," Meredith said sternly. "Calm yourself. Fretting won't do anyone any good. Rest assured the scribes and physics alike are scouring through records. Your father will be sending people out into the world in search for a cure." Meredith closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath. "I know this may be hard to hear, but it may even take years before we find something. The least you can do is live well as your mother would have wanted you to, so that when she wakes, she can see what a lovely woman you've become."

Elizia blinked. She stared at her master's grim expression. Years. Years of living without her mother. Perhaps forever, even. Meredith looked withered, her sleep deprivation obvious. No. There was something else hidden in her eyes. Elizia swallowed. It was guilt. The physic didn’t believe Sar'tara would ever wake. No known cure. She couldn't lose hope. Ten years was a long time. There had to be a method somewhere in the world if not within Xenaria's libraries. Her father would for sure be sending the best of scholars to seek the cure. It would come. Elizia just had to be patient. Her mother wasn't dead. That's what mattered. Be patient.

And alone for ten long years…

She looked away, unable to stop further tears. "How long has it been since they slept?" she asked with a broken voice, gesturing to her friends.

"Not long. They were up more than half the night I believe. May have skipped dinner too."

"Then let them rest a while longer. I can wait. Ask Esper to bring something up to eat." Esper was her handmaiden, a woman of minor status assigned to Elizia a few years prior. A silent yet sweet woman with a short head of dark blonde. Esper often seemed upset at not having enough to do, seeing as how Elizia hardly spent any time doing things expected of a young lady.

"As her highness wills," Meredith said. She rose and offered a slight bow before turning to leave.

"Master Meredith?" Elizia called, wiping her eyes.

"Mm?"

"Thank you."

"Tis my pleasure, child."

Elizia offered a weak smile. The physician switched between addressing her as 'child' and 'her highness' often. Elizia didn't mind. She never imposed her status over others. Meredith was her instructor when it came to learning the basics of a physic's art, and Elizia regarded anyone with more knowledge than her as a superior. She had become adept at sewing wounds, changing bandages, and had knowledge of a few minor medicines useful out on the battlefield.

The door clicked shut behind Meredith. All was silent.

Draw the string to your ear. Feel the wind. Adjust and… Elizia cried again, soaking her open palms. She closed her hands and felt the tears against her rough fingertips. "I have so much to learn still. You've so much more to teach me… Please wake up." She rose from her bed and pulled back the thin drapes veiling a young sun, her shadow extending behind her. She opened the window, breathing in fresh air. A chill breeze cooled the wet upon her cheeks. "I'll surpass you, mother," she vowed. "I'll make you and father proud. I swear it by the Eternal Flames. When you wake, you'll see a different person." Or, if fortune served, Sar'tara would awaken soon.

Elizia shut the window, rubbing her arms. Winter temperatures were approaching sooner than welcome. Someone groaned behind her. Emeria was stirring awake, frowning with her eyes shut and rubbing her neck. Her swollen eyelids and slight puffed cheeks made her pretty face look as if she were an adorable child. She squinted at the empty bed. "El?"

"I'm here, Emma. I'm better now. Thanks for watching over me."

"Yeah," the crown princess said, awkwardly staring into open space. She stood up and stretched out. Her stomach growled. She blushed.

"Hungry?"

Emeria nodded. "El, listen. If—"

"None of that, Emma," Elizia said, quickly wiping her eyes again before Emeria's vision cleared. "Nothing's changed between us. I'm done crying." More tears welled as if rebelling against her words.

"If you say so." Someone knocked at the door and Emeria clumsily walked to open it. Esper, wearing a plain grey tunic, pushed in a cart full of warm food prepared well in advance of Elizia's request. The handmaiden bowed low, uttering befitting greetings. Esper's expression brightened upon seeing Elizia walking about. Her master's continued Health prolonged her employment after all.

Esper pushed the cart to the center of the room. She tucked her already short hair behind her ear, keeping her gaze fixated on the ground. "If my ladies need anything more, I'll be standing outside by the door."

Elizia nodded. She walked over to the cart and frowned just as her handmaiden exited the bedchamber. Loaves of fresh bread along with jars of butter and jam, and poached eggs. As well as a variety of fruits not native to Metsiphon's surrounding regions —the only exception being peaches as two trees stood in the manor's gardens planted by Elizia's parents on their wedding night. Her mother had told that story a few times.

"Perhaps I should give father an earful for the needlessly lavish food. No doubt he's already heard that I'm awake," Elizia muttered. Anything to remember her mother. Anything to preserve her memory. She bit her lip. Anything to drive away that bottomless pit in her chest that said ten years would pass and the cure would remain unfound.

"And knows I'm in here too," Emeria said, adding a clearly forced giggle. Azurus stirred from his sleep. It took him a few breaths to realize the royal heir wasn't at his side and Elizia was missing from her bed. He snapped to his feet, barely changing his expression at the pain from muscles that were undoubtedly stiff, hand half drawing the sword at his waist —which he carried always. The sheet around him fell to his feet, revealing a laced shirt wrought with wrinkles. He relaxed when seeing the missing two standing a few feet away from him. Elizia found some heart to laugh, Emeria laughing alongside her.

"What's so funny?" the young man asked, his morning voice haggard. He scratched at his wavy hair.

"Oh nothing, my sweet knight," the royal princess said. "Come. Let's eat. Luckily, there aren't any vegetables for you to baby about."

Azurus shook his head but kept silent.

They seated themselves on the bed, Elizia sitting opposite her friends. She helped herself to what she wanted, though having a very limited appetite. The young knight did the same. Emeria on the other hand, waited expectantly for Azurus to serve her, smiling with approval as he selected her favorites. "So when's the wedding?" Elizia asked, trying to keep her thoughts away from despair.

"Who's wedding?" Emeria returned.

"Yours, silly."

"With who?"

Elizia raised an eyebrow. "Really now? I'm not stupid, Emma. You'd probably sit in his lap and let him feed you if I weren't here.

"I most certainly would not!" the First Princess declared. Azurus turned away, pale cheeks ablaze. "There is nothing happening between my knight and I."

The boy's lips twitched in obvious disappointment at those words.

"Mhm. Then you're fine if I take him? Father has high regards for someone of his skill. I'm sure our children would be Healthy too. He would definitely approve if I asked—"

"No way! That's— I mean…" Emeria was at a loss for words. Her own face had become quite rouge. She took hold of her knight's hand. "Fine. I admit it. I love him and he loves me. What of it?"

"Nothing," Elizia said, shrugging. "I just wanted to see you flustered. And wondered if Azurus had spine enough to speak for himself. You do remember my mother's last words to you, don't you?"

"That— yes. I wouldn't forget Lady Sar'tara's words," Azurus said. "I love Emma too."

"Hahhhh, I can practically feel the heat from both of your faces," Elizia teased. She dramatically placed a hand on her forehead. "Such blazing passion. So romantic. I shall hire a bard to craft a story!"

Emeria glared at her.

Elizia felt a pang of guilt. She didn't mean to berate them. "I'm sorry. I'm just…"

"Feeling alone?" Azurus asked.

She slowly nodded, shocked at how simply he managed to describe her emotions.

"It's normal," he said. "After losing someone, you try finding happy emotions wherever you can. Possibly demeaning others to make yourself feel better… I'm not saying that's what you just did," he quickly added. "But just know that we will always be here for you, El. We're your friends."

Elizia nodded again. Azurus was an orphan. Picked off from the streets of Exaltyron's Impoverished District at a young age by the current captain of the Queen's Guard. He had never shared his story before. He likely didn't want to.

"Did I maybe behave rudely after father passed?" Emeria asked.

"If you did, I've already forgotten it," he replied.

Elizia looked away. She hadn't been there to console the First Princess when her father the king, Madrivall Aegis, passed of an illness a few years prior. Emeria was at the capital then. When visiting Arcaeus again a few months following that incident, she seemed her normal self, cheery and competitive.

"Mother isn't dead," she whispered. The others looked to her, frowning. She explained what had happened. No one spoke following that, eating away their breakfast in silence. An unease hung in the air. A void where despair echoed just as Elizia's chest. She felt as if the food she swallowed was stuck at the base of her throat.

She closed her eyes. She had friends —wonderful friends. And her father as well. She wasn't alone. At the end of it all, Elizia found herself chewing at the edge of her fork, unsure of how to say something that'd been sitting at the edge of her thoughts. "Promise me that we'll always be friends," she finally managed, the words coming out in a whisper. Emeria and Azurus were setting empty dishes back on the cart. They turned at her soft voice.

"Of course," Azurus said.

"Always, El," Emeria agreed.

Elizia smiled. She placed her own plate on the cart, then walked out of the room barefoot to go see her mother, hoping desperately that maybe, just maybe, Sar'tara would awake that very morning, and all would be well and return to normal.