Chapter 98: 98
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Fangorn nods firmly to himself as he affirms his need to leave, lifting himself up of the table with a heavy grunt before taken a moment to straighten out his heavy leathery hunting jacket, patting himself down as he counts one, two three knives, and smiles to himself, satisfied. I watch him curiously for a moment as he thumbs over the edge of the blades.
When I was younger, I always wanted to train as a warrior in knife throwing- to hold such a delicate but simultaneously sly weapon felt like a privilege, and asset that my small nine year old yet thought would make me look incredibly cool. I would become the first warrior Queen, battling out there on the front lines with a mighty sword and fistful of knives, slaying evil and protecting the good, like any Queen should.
Unsurprisingly enough, it was never the vampires I was vanquishing in my dreams of glory and freedom- I had other dreams for them. But the council, those stale decrepit of angels who sit and scheme as they puppet the throne with bony fingers and gnarled hands, weren't interested in my dreams, or anything I wanted to do at all for that matter. And thus I was placed in the divinist division- a magical sorcerer of light who used their powers to trap and kill vampires from the safer distance high up in the skies or would spend hours of focus casting enchantments over the whole of a city. Needless to say, I hated every second of it, and not just because I wasn't very good at casting spells.
Fangorn's voice snaps me promptly out of me recollections.
"Kal will escort you too back out of the end, it's getting late and I don't want you two running into anything. Especially with so much riding on your shoulders," he says, and quickly nods his head towards the ornate box containing the two bracelets. "Take those with you. Don't use them until absolutely necessary." He reminds me, and Ithuriel and I share a murmur of acknowledgement as I close the box into my palm, suddenly feeling very protective over the objects yet simultaneously finding myself fearful of the outcome that something may happen to them. My fingers tighten over them possessively.
Perhaps one day when this is all said and done, I will be able to return these to Lilyana, restore her to her former glory and maybe even find a way to return her lost wings. In retrospect, maybe that is a naïve hope, though nevertheless I still find myself content to bear it anyway.
"Don't worry, we will be sensible, I promise. You can count on us, Fangorn."
Fangorn smiles lightly.
"Good, now Kal, if you may?" he asks, gesturing with a wide sweep of his hands towards us, to which Kal jumps to attention from behind Ithuriel, eager to carry out his task. He makes a humorous salute, eliciting a slight grin from us as we rise from our seats.
"Of course. Ithuriel, you may want to turn back into a fox before we go. As much as I would like to give you that robe my lovely friend, it has to stay here, or father may be annoyed," he whispers into his cupped palm comically, offering up a cheeky grin to the vampire who stands ponderously across the room, running a slender finger over one particularly long knife as though pretending not to hear. Ithuriel groans at the sudden implication that the two of them are even remotely close enough to be friends, running a hand through his silky locks which swiftly fade to a ghastly blood orange, teeming with irritation. Kal doesn't even bother to notice the irate aura that has sprung up about Ithuriel, wreathing around him like a snake rising up out of the grass, instead endeavouring to persist in his aimless wooing- as if they would get him anywhere.
"If it makes you feel any better, I can turn into a dragon and walk with you?" he offers, but Ithuriel shakes his head firmly in a solemn and unrelenting 'no', leaving no space for interpretation.
"I shall grab our things and change out of these robes, wait for me here. Serena, the bracelets? I shall put them in my bag, if you would give them to me," he instructs, and I hand them over swiftly, making a mental note of the irritation in his voice to avoid getting on his bad side. Clearly Kal's antics are draining him. Carefully, he takes the bracelets, and without another word strides off into a spare room, perhaps the one that is held is sachet, shutting the door behind him with an almost tangible frustration. Kal whistles as he goes.
"Quite the specimen, that one," he says, grinning a little as he flashes me a good humoured look, nudging me in the ribs. On most accounts, being so brazenly open with someone would have been off putting at best, but with the light-heartedness of Kal's tone and the youthful optimism that plays in the sweet melodies of his voice, it is rather hard not to share that same enthusiasm.
"You shouldn't tease him so, the poor boy has just has his heart broken, and I feel awful about it. But I really don't think hitting on him is going to solve any problems," I reprimand, crossing my arms over myself to give him a poignant look. Kal flicks it off in the usual dismissively casual manner that he does everything, and shoves his hands back into his pockets. I breathe a heavy sigh. Looks like I am not going to be getting through to him today- that dragon is on a mission, and not necessarily a mission for success.
"I think it might offer some distraction. I mean, at least he isn't curled up in a ball crying. Besides, he's fair game now, and that boy is a catch. So excuse me for wanting to pick up what your sorry self did not," he says with a hard look, swaying on the balls of his feet in an amiable manner that almost turns the harsh nature of his words into something more thoughtful. Almost. The lean dragon smiles blithely to himself.
"You think so?" I half chuckle, at last loosening up as I give him a knowingly sideways smile. In that moment I could have sworn a light redness dusted the pale expanse of Kal's cheeks.
"I know so."
"Is that right?" I muse, mostly to myself, but Kal gives me another good natured prod in the ribs, causing me to jump back, a tad startled. I point a finger at him accusingly.
"If I didn't know any better, I would say you are trying to make advances. Big advances at that." Kal merely shrugs his response. Across the room, Fangorn has begun to sharpen his knife, the harsh grating sound rising up in a cacophony of noise around the quaint little house, so much so that I almost miss Kal's devilish response as he leans himself aimlessly back against the table, his fingers rapping on the wooden boards, adding to the already deafening shriek of a knife grinding against stone.
"Well obviously,"
Nervously, I flick my eyes towards the door, monitoring for any signs of Ithuriel coming back out with careful precision, and upon seeing none, resume my assessment of the winged dragon boy. Kal twiddles his hair absently, pretending suddenly to be uninterested, mouth pulled to one side, face a mask of an innocent façade suddenly bent on denying my impudent allegations.
"Last I last checked he was free as a bumblebee on a summers day, unless you have changed your mind?" he says, now turning the tones of accusation on me with a long and meaningful look that somehow transforms the light-hearted nature of his words into something more serious. I cross my arms, but relent nonetheless. Kal certainly plays some tricky games.
"You have been spending too much time with the vampires," I mutter, rolling my eyes.
A door creaking open catches both of our attention. Ithuriel, now a small white fox, sachet attached and slung precariously over his body, eyes glowering like twin opals under the light of a half moon. He enters the room and meets with distance between us with the poise and elegance that any angel would hope to achieve, then wastes absolutely no time in giving Kal the biggest death stare I have seen in my life.
The deadpan look on his face is enough to send Kal flinching, drawing back into himself as Ithuriel's two toned eyes scan us with a look of utter judgement:
I can hear you both, you know.
Kal tries his best to look unbothered, suddenly desperate to change the subject, rubbing the back of his neck nervously with an anxious twitch of his hand. It is almost laughable how someone can go from so brazen to so timid in a matter of seconds, but out of politeness and the sudden urge to preserve his dignity, I keep my mouth shut- I am a Queen, and unfortunately sometimes that means maintaining an air of indifferent nonchalance. Fortunately, Fangorn intervenes before Ithuriel actually begins to melt holes into Kal by the sheer burning ferocity of his gaze.
"Alright you lot, get going. I may be one of the nicer vampires, but I have things to do, so off with you,"
I am not blind enough to miss the grateful look that Kal flicks to Fangorn.
"Right then," Kal exclaims, rubbing his hands together vigorously, being very careful to avoid meeting his gaze with Ithuriel's.. "Let's get you out of here."
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Fangorn nods firmly to himself as he affirms his need to leave, lifting himself up of the table with a heavy grunt before taken a moment to straighten out his heavy leathery hunting jacket, patting himself down as he counts one, two three knives, and smiles to himself, satisfied. I watch him curiously for a moment as he thumbs over the edge of the blades.
When I was younger, I always wanted to train as a warrior in knife throwing- to hold such a delicate but simultaneously sly weapon felt like a privilege, and asset that my small nine year old yet thought would make me look incredibly cool. I would become the first warrior Queen, battling out there on the front lines with a mighty sword and fistful of knives, slaying evil and protecting the good, like any Queen should.
Unsurprisingly enough, it was never the vampires I was vanquishing in my dreams of glory and freedom- I had other dreams for them. But the council, those stale decrepit of angels who sit and scheme as they puppet the throne with bony fingers and gnarled hands, weren't interested in my dreams, or anything I wanted to do at all for that matter. And thus I was placed in the divinist division- a magical sorcerer of light who used their powers to trap and kill vampires from the safer distance high up in the skies or would spend hours of focus casting enchantments over the whole of a city. Needless to say, I hated every second of it, and not just because I wasn't very good at casting spells.
Fangorn's voice snaps me promptly out of me recollections.
"Kal will escort you too back out of the end, it's getting late and I don't want you two running into anything. Especially with so much riding on your shoulders," he says, and quickly nods his head towards the ornate box containing the two bracelets. "Take those with you. Don't use them until absolutely necessary." He reminds me, and Ithuriel and I share a murmur of acknowledgement as I close the box into my palm, suddenly feeling very protective over the objects yet simultaneously finding myself fearful of the outcome that something may happen to them. My fingers tighten over them possessively.
Perhaps one day when this is all said and done, I will be able to return these to Lilyana, restore her to her former glory and maybe even find a way to return her lost wings. In retrospect, maybe that is a naïve hope, though nevertheless I still find myself content to bear it anyway.
"Don't worry, we will be sensible, I promise. You can count on us, Fangorn."
Fangorn smiles lightly.
"Good, now Kal, if you may?" he asks, gesturing with a wide sweep of his hands towards us, to which Kal jumps to attention from behind Ithuriel, eager to carry out his task. He makes a humorous salute, eliciting a slight grin from us as we rise from our seats.
"Of course. Ithuriel, you may want to turn back into a fox before we go. As much as I would like to give you that robe my lovely friend, it has to stay here, or father may be annoyed," he whispers into his cupped palm comically, offering up a cheeky grin to the vampire who stands ponderously across the room, running a slender finger over one particularly long knife as though pretending not to hear. Ithuriel groans at the sudden implication that the two of them are even remotely close enough to be friends, running a hand through his silky locks which swiftly fade to a ghastly blood orange, teeming with irritation. Kal doesn't even bother to notice the irate aura that has sprung up about Ithuriel, wreathing around him like a snake rising up out of the grass, instead endeavouring to persist in his aimless wooing- as if they would get him anywhere.
"If it makes you feel any better, I can turn into a dragon and walk with you?" he offers, but Ithuriel shakes his head firmly in a solemn and unrelenting 'no', leaving no space for interpretation.
"I shall grab our things and change out of these robes, wait for me here. Serena, the bracelets? I shall put them in my bag, if you would give them to me," he instructs, and I hand them over swiftly, making a mental note of the irritation in his voice to avoid getting on his bad side. Clearly Kal's antics are draining him. Carefully, he takes the bracelets, and without another word strides off into a spare room, perhaps the one that is held is sachet, shutting the door behind him with an almost tangible frustration. Kal whistles as he goes.
"Quite the specimen, that one," he says, grinning a little as he flashes me a good humoured look, nudging me in the ribs. On most accounts, being so brazenly open with someone would have been off putting at best, but with the light-heartedness of Kal's tone and the youthful optimism that plays in the sweet melodies of his voice, it is rather hard not to share that same enthusiasm.
"You shouldn't tease him so, the poor boy has just has his heart broken, and I feel awful about it. But I really don't think hitting on him is going to solve any problems," I reprimand, crossing my arms over myself to give him a poignant look. Kal flicks it off in the usual dismissively casual manner that he does everything, and shoves his hands back into his pockets. I breathe a heavy sigh. Looks like I am not going to be getting through to him today- that dragon is on a mission, and not necessarily a mission for success.
"I think it might offer some distraction. I mean, at least he isn't curled up in a ball crying. Besides, he's fair game now, and that boy is a catch. So excuse me for wanting to pick up what your sorry self did not," he says with a hard look, swaying on the balls of his feet in an amiable manner that almost turns the harsh nature of his words into something more thoughtful. Almost. The lean dragon smiles blithely to himself.
"You think so?" I half chuckle, at last loosening up as I give him a knowingly sideways smile. In that moment I could have sworn a light redness dusted the pale expanse of Kal's cheeks.
"I know so."
"Is that right?" I muse, mostly to myself, but Kal gives me another good natured prod in the ribs, causing me to jump back, a tad startled. I point a finger at him accusingly.
"If I didn't know any better, I would say you are trying to make advances. Big advances at that." Kal merely shrugs his response. Across the room, Fangorn has begun to sharpen his knife, the harsh grating sound rising up in a cacophony of noise around the quaint little house, so much so that I almost miss Kal's devilish response as he leans himself aimlessly back against the table, his fingers rapping on the wooden boards, adding to the already deafening shriek of a knife grinding against stone.
"Well obviously,"
Nervously, I flick my eyes towards the door, monitoring for any signs of Ithuriel coming back out with careful precision, and upon seeing none, resume my assessment of the winged dragon boy. Kal twiddles his hair absently, pretending suddenly to be uninterested, mouth pulled to one side, face a mask of an innocent façade suddenly bent on denying my impudent allegations.
"Last I last checked he was free as a bumblebee on a summers day, unless you have changed your mind?" he says, now turning the tones of accusation on me with a long and meaningful look that somehow transforms the light-hearted nature of his words into something more serious. I cross my arms, but relent nonetheless. Kal certainly plays some tricky games.
"You have been spending too much time with the vampires," I mutter, rolling my eyes.
A door creaking open catches both of our attention. Ithuriel, now a small white fox, sachet attached and slung precariously over his body, eyes glowering like twin opals under the light of a half moon. He enters the room and meets with distance between us with the poise and elegance that any angel would hope to achieve, then wastes absolutely no time in giving Kal the biggest death stare I have seen in my life.
The deadpan look on his face is enough to send Kal flinching, drawing back into himself as Ithuriel's two toned eyes scan us with a look of utter judgement:
I can hear you both, you know.
Kal tries his best to look unbothered, suddenly desperate to change the subject, rubbing the back of his neck nervously with an anxious twitch of his hand. It is almost laughable how someone can go from so brazen to so timid in a matter of seconds, but out of politeness and the sudden urge to preserve his dignity, I keep my mouth shut- I am a Queen, and unfortunately sometimes that means maintaining an air of indifferent nonchalance. Fortunately, Fangorn intervenes before Ithuriel actually begins to melt holes into Kal by the sheer burning ferocity of his gaze.
"Alright you lot, get going. I may be one of the nicer vampires, but I have things to do, so off with you,"
I am not blind enough to miss the grateful look that Kal flicks to Fangorn.
"Right then," Kal exclaims, rubbing his hands together vigorously, being very careful to avoid meeting his gaze with Ithuriel's.. "Let's get you out of here."
Fangorn nods firmly to himself as he affirms his need to leave, lifting himself up of the table with a heavy grunt before taken a moment to straighten out his heavy leathery hunting jacket, patting himself down as he counts one, two three knives, and smiles to himself, satisfied. I watch him curiously for a moment as he thumbs over the edge of the blades.When I was younger, I always wanted to train as a warrior in knife throwing- to hold such a delicate but simultaneously sly weapon felt like a privilege, and asset that my small nine year old yet thought would make me look incredibly cool. I would become the first warrior Queen, battling out there on the front lines with a mighty sword and fistful of knives, slaying evil and protecting the good, like any Queen should.Unsurprisingly enough, it was never the vampires I was vanquishing in my dreams of glory and freedom- I had other dreams for them. But the council, those stale decrepit of angels who sit and scheme as they puppet the throne with bony fingers and gnarled hands, weren't interested in my dreams, or anything I wanted to do at all for that matter. And thus I was placed in the divinist division- a magical sorcerer of light who used their powers to trap and kill vampires from the safer distance high up in the skies or would spend hours of focus casting enchantments over the whole of a city. Needless to say, I hated every second of it, and not just because I wasn't very good at casting spells. Fangorn's voice snaps me promptly out of me recollections."Kal will escort you too back out of the end, it's getting late and I don't want you two running into anything. Especially with so much riding on your shoulders," he says, and quickly nods his head towards the ornate box containing the two bracelets. "Take those with you. Don't use them until absolutely necessary." He reminds me, and Ithuriel and I share a murmur of acknowledgement as I close the box into my palm, suddenly feeling very protective over the objects yet simultaneously finding myself fearful of the outcome that something may happen to them. My fingers tighten over them possessively. Perhaps one day when this is all said and done, I will be able to return these to Lilyana, restore her to her former glory and maybe even find a way to return her lost wings. In retrospect, maybe that is a nave hope, though nevertheless I still find myself content to bear it anyway."Don't worry, we will be sensible, I promise. You can count on us, Fangorn."Fangorn smiles lightly. "Good, now Kal, if you may?" he asks, gesturing with a wide sweep of his hands towards us, to which Kal jumps to attention from behind Ithuriel, eager to carry out his task. He makes a humorous salute, eliciting a slight grin from us as we rise from our seats."Of course. Ithuriel, you may want to turn back into a fox before we go. As much as I would like to give you that robe my lovely friend, it has to stay here, or father may be annoyed," he whispers into his cupped palm comically, offering up a cheeky grin to the vampire who stands ponderously across the room, running a slender finger over one particularly long knife as though pretending not to hear. Ithuriel groans at the sudden implication that the two of them are even remotely close enough to be friends, running a hand through his silky locks which swiftly fade to a ghastly blood orange, teeming with irritation. Kal doesn't even bother to notice the irate aura that has sprung up about Ithuriel, wreathing around him like a snake rising up out of the grass, instead endeavouring to persist in his aimless wooing- as if they would get him anywhere."If it makes you feel any better, I can turn into a dragon and walk with you?" he offers, but Ithuriel shakes his head firmly in a solemn and unrelenting 'no', leaving no space for interpretation."I shall grab our things and change out of these robes, wait for me here. Serena, the bracelets? I shall put them in my bag, if you would give them to me," he instructs, and I hand them over swiftly, making a mental note of the irritation in his voice to avoid getting on his bad side. Clearly Kal's antics are draining him. Carefully, he takes the bracelets, and without another word strides off into a spare room, perhaps the one that is held is sachet, shutting the door behind him with an almost tangible frustration. Kal whistles as he goes."Quite the specimen, that one," he says, grinning a little as he flashes me a good humoured look, nudging me in the ribs. On most accounts, being so brazenly open with someone would have been off putting at best, but with the light-heartedness of Kal's tone and the youthful optimism that plays in the sweet melodies of his voice, it is rather hard not to share that same enthusiasm."You shouldn't tease him so, the poor boy has just has his heart broken, and I feel awful about it. But I really don't think hitting on him is going to solve any problems," I reprimand, crossing my arms over myself to give him a poignant look. Kal flicks it off in the usual dismissively casual manner that he does everything, and shoves his hands back into his pockets. I breathe a heavy sigh. Looks like I am not going to be getting through to him today- that dragon is on a mission, and not necessarily a mission for success."I think it might offer some distraction. I mean, at least he isn't curled up in a ball crying. Besides, he's fair game now, and that boy is a catch. So excuse me for wanting to pick up what your sorry self did not," he says with a hard look, swaying on the balls of his feet in an amiable manner that almost turns the harsh nature of his words into something more thoughtful. Almost. The lean dragon smiles blithely to himself."You think so?" I half chuckle, at last loosening up as I give him a knowingly sideways smile. In that moment I could have sworn a light redness dusted the pale expanse of Kal's cheeks."I know so.""Is that right?" I muse, mostly to myself, but Kal gives me another good natured prod in the ribs, causing me to jump back, a tad startled. I point a finger at him accusingly."If I didn't know any better, I would say you are trying to make advances. Big advances at that." Kal merely shrugs his response. Across the room, Fangorn has begun to sharpen his knife, the harsh grating sound rising up in a cacophony of noise around the quaint little house, so much so that I almost miss Kal's devilish response as he leans himself aimlessly back against the table, his fingers rapping on the wooden boards, adding to the already deafening shriek of a knife grinding against stone."Well obviously,"Nervously, I flick my eyes towards the door, monitoring for any signs of Ithuriel coming back out with careful precision, and upon seeing none, resume my assessment of the winged dragon boy. Kal twiddles his hair absently, pretending suddenly to be uninterested, mouth pulled to one side, face a mask of an innocent faade suddenly bent on denying my impudent allegations."Last I last checked he was free as a bumblebee on a summers day, unless you have changed your mind?" he says, now turning the tones of accusation on me with a long and meaningful look that somehow transforms the light-hearted nature of his words into something more serious. I cross my arms, but relent nonetheless. Kal certainly plays some tricky games."You have been spending too much time with the vampires," I mutter, rolling my eyes.A door creaking open catches both of our attention. Ithuriel, now a small white fox, sachet attached and slung precariously over his body, eyes glowering like twin opals under the light of a half moon. He enters the room and meets with distance between us with the poise and elegance that any angel would hope to achieve, then wastes absolutely no time in giving Kal the biggest death stare I have seen in my life. The deadpan look on his face is enough to send Kal flinching, drawing back into himself as Ithuriel's two toned eyes scan us with a look of utter judgement:I can hear you both, you know.Kal tries his best to look unbothered, suddenly desperate to change the subject, rubbing the back of his neck nervously with an anxious twitch of his hand. It is almost laughable how someone can go from so brazen to so timid in a matter of seconds, but out of politeness and the sudden urge to preserve his dignity, I keep my mouth shut- I am a Queen, and unfortunately sometimes that means maintaining an air of indifferent nonchalance. Fortunately, Fangorn intervenes before Ithuriel actually begins to melt holes into Kal by the sheer burning ferocity of his gaze."Alright you lot, get going. I may be one of the nicer vampires, but I have things to do, so off with you,"I am not blind enough to miss the grateful look that Kal flicks to Fangorn. "Right then," Kal exclaims, rubbing his hands together vigorously, being very careful to avoid meeting his gaze with Ithuriel's.. "Let's get you out of here."
