Fire Falling - Kova Elise (полные книги TXT) 📗

“It’s a town that’s full of more shit than a cow pie.” The woman was uncharacteristically bitter. “My father was a miner who never amounted to anything other than turning alcohol to piss. My mother was a broken woman, and all I think she could do was stare into space, especially after my father hit her.”

Vhalla blinked in a stunned silence.

“There was no money, no future, and no joy there. Mother help me, I hated that shack they called home. One day, I was five, maybe six? My father brought home a man I’d never seen. He said that the man would give us all the money we needed and all I had to do was be a good girl and do as I was told.” Larel placed her forearm on her forehead, staring at something far beyond the canvas above them.

“I didn’t understand until I was alone with that man. I screamed, I cried, and no one came. In that moment, I just wanted them all to die.” Larel sighed softly. Vhalla could hardly process what the woman was implying. “They found me sitting among the ashen remains of that home. I don’t think I mourned once.” She turned back to face Vhalla. “That was when I first Manifested. I was just a child, and a sorceress at that. So I was given to the mines. Every day I was lowered into a hole. I dug and dug. Or made fires, melted things away, or whatever else I could do.”

“I’m sorry,” Vhalla whispered. Those two words didn’t seem to even come close to enough.

“This was a different life, Vhalla.” Larel shrugged. “Honestly, the mines paid me a copper for every day I worked. It was enough to buy dinner, and I slept in empty storage sheds.” Larel returned onto her back, her eyes glassed over with memories. “Then one day there was an Imperial company riding through. The Emperor himself was there, and they made a stop to rest their mounts and resupply their stock. I’d never seen anything as amazing as the gilded carriages and horses covered in dyed leathers.

“The Emperor said he wanted a tour of the mines. They were headed to Norin but Emperor Solaris knew our mine was one of the West’s primary silver veins and he was kind enough to at least feign an interest. Aldrik was there.”

Vhalla struggled to envision what a child-Aldrik would look like without his adult demeanor and presence.

“He was twelve and every inch the prince—even then. He followed his father around the mines dutifully. But he was still a child, and eventually he wandered on his own, well, with a guard. Though no one in the West would ever hurt him. He’s one of the West’s own, after all. I saw him making some fires to play with. I’d never seen another person like me.” Larel laughed softly.

“I was such a grubby little thing, Vhalla. I had no business approaching the crown prince. But he smiled kindly and let me show him what I could do. He told me there was a place in the castle, a Tower, where people like us were special—where I wouldn’t have to live in the dark. I remember crying; I cried because it sounded so perfect, I cried because I knew I would never go.

“He looked at me strangely. He didn’t understand why I wouldn’t. His guard explained it to him, and Aldrik just said he would take me.” Larel fussed with her blanket. “He took me to his father and told him, in front of everyone there, that I was coming back to join the Tower. At first the foreman objected, saying I was property of the mines. But Aldrik wouldn’t hear it. In the end, I was bought with seven gold pieces and an Imperial thank you. I was eleven when I finally left that town, and I never went back.”

Vhalla stared in awe, but Larel seemed to only be half-finished.

“I joined the Imperial caravan to Norin, and then back to the Southern palace. Aldrik and I were inseparable the whole time. We were kids—and, well—kids don’t understand the world and all the reasons that keep people apart. Right from the start he didn’t want me to call him “prince”, said it made him feel strange. I was happy to oblige. When I joined the Tower, he insisted we trained together. Minister Egmun didn’t—”

“Egmun?” Vhalla interrupted in shock.

Larel knew there was something more to Vhalla’s tone. “Egmun was the Minister of Sorcery before Victor.”

Vhalla sat up. “No, not the same Head Elect Senator Egmun?” It had to be a mistake.

“Yes, he stepped down from his minister position to join the Senate,” Larel explained.

“He-he—” Vhalla seethed and sputtered remembering the man who tried to beat her into a submission that would mean accepting death as an alternative to the pain.

Larel let Vhalla’s words fall away. “I hear Egmun changed a lot during his transition to senator.”

“Sorry, continue.” Vhalla shook her head, pushing away the senator whom she considered evil incarnate.

“Anyway, they didn’t think it proper I trained with the crown prince, but Aldrik is Aldrik. So we trained together anyways. Every day I got to spend with him was better than the last. Even the times he was angry or sad, I just enjoyed being with him, seeing him ...” Larel trailed away into nostalgia with a soft, sad smile.

Vhalla’s eyes widened. “Did you love him?”

It would make sense if she had. He saved her, he brought her to a new life, and he stayed by her side as he showed her an amazing new world. Who couldn’t love someone under those circumstances when they were as amazing as Aldrik was?

“Well ...” Even in the dim light Larel’s cheeks were slightly flushed. Vhalla had never seen her blush before and it made her insides clench. “There was a summer, he was barely fourteen and I was thirteen. It was that age when you first start wondering what love is. We had a moment; he was the first boy I kissed.” Vhalla shifted her blankets. “But, it faded just as fast as it came on. We both realized we were kids playing at love and laughed it off.”

Larel sighed softly.

“Right at the start of the war in the Crystal Caverns, he hit a really dark point. I tried to get to him, and he pushed me away. We had a fight, and we both said things we regretted.” She looked pained. “I was proud, I was hurt, and I walked away. I know he needed me—needed someone—more than ever, and I withdrew.” Larel’s attention was back on Vhalla, the haze of the past lifting for a moment. “I promised then that I’d never abandon someone in need, if I had the chance again. I’d never ignore a friend because of the foolish things pain could make them do.”

Vhalla quickly realized Larel was speaking about her.

“After that, for many years, things were awkward and cold between us.” Larel was back to her story. “But time heals all wounds, and we found our friendship again. It’ll never be what it was, but what we had created a strong foundation. He knows he can trust me implicitly, and I can trust him.”

Silence filled the air as Vhalla digested Larel’s story. It made her feel heavy, and it put her stomach in a knot. She felt sorrow for her friend; joy, excitement, and a touch of jealousy. She felt like a child when she wondered what it was like to kiss the prince and kept her questions at bay.

“So that’s why you’re my mentor.” Vhalla saw it with a new light.

“Yes. During your Awakening, Aldrik was obsessive with worry over you. We had to practically remove him by force. He wanted to screen everyone who was allowed to even see you, more or less touch you. Because Victor kept pushing him away, he appointed me to the task. He asked a favor. Of course, now I know why he was frantic. If you’re Bonded.”

Vhalla twisted her blankets between her fingers. It was not the first time she’d been told he called in favors for her. Vhalla tilted her head. “The Bond?”

“You know how a Bond is made,” Larel said delicately. “You are both a part of each other. There are records of people going mad because they lost their Bonded. Some theorize that, depending on the depth of the Bond, should one die the other will as well.”

Vhalla sat upright, resting her forehead in her palm. It was self-preservation for him. “He’s keeping me safe because if he doesn’t—”