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I'll be posting my story here as well!  If you're interested in it, please feel free to follow my other account: ManuWrites
Thank you if you take the time to read it!

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Next Chapter:

All Chapters HERE.

CHAPTER 32: A DAWN

                Sunlight poked Malia in the face. Her mind was awake, eager to greet the morning, but her body took its sweet time to catch up. It was a new experience for her to be trapped by her stubborn flesh when before it had always served her faithfully.
                As she waited for her eyes to obey her, confined by her eyelids in shallow darkness, a repetitive noise caught her interest. It wasn’t the faint sound of Kadem reading, occasionally shifting in her chair. It was a persistent and yet subtle… brushing? Rubbing?
                Before she could notice how she had done it, Malia was wide awake, scanning the area for the source of the intriguing sound. Kadem was no longer in the room, and instead Gorken was sweeping the floor near the door. The princess was no expert when it came to cleaning, but even she could tell that Gorken held the broom clumsily; until then she hadn’t considered how hard servants worked to look graceful as they performed their duties.
                Gorken reacted instantly to Malia sitting up, “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”
                “No.” she shook her head, “But what are you doing?”
                “Lyra asked us to help with the cleaning. She put me here, gave me this, and I couldn’t refuse.”
                That sounds like Lyra. Malia didn’t say anything for a few moments, so Gorken kept his distance. “…I haven’t thanked you yet,” she ran a hand over her braided hair, “for saving my life.”
                Gorken forsook the broom to grab Malia’s free hand, “Neither have I.”
                “So we’re even.” She looked away after a pause. She had trouble holding Gorken’s gaze, but she wasn’t sure why. She wasn’t angry, and yet something was amiss. Their rapport was like a crooked painting, or a dirty mirror. And he knew it too.
                “Not yet.” Gorken hardened his grip, “I have to apologize first... but I might just make it worse if I talk. Will you hear me out anyway?”
                “Always.” Malia faced him.
                “I am sorry for murdering Cain.” Gorken said, “But it’s not because I think torturing and killing an enemy is wrong. Once you’re someone’s enemy… I have seen how costly hesitation can be. I’ve seen how quickly allies can fall to a foe you failed to eliminate. No matter how much you may think about your ideals while you’re alone in your head, the world and the present and violence won’t care about any of it. Only what’s in front of you should shape your decisions.”
                He lowered his glance, “But right now, you’re what’s in front of me. I used you as an excuse to punish him, but I wasn’t doing it for you. I wasn’t thinking of your feelings, even whilst I crushed his limbs saying it was for your sake. I just wanted to feel better about myself. And like you said, I can’t take it back. I can’t make it right. I can only apologize... and swear that I’ll never disregard your feelings again… that even if we disagree, I’ll never rob you of being able to choose.”
                It was rare to see fear in Gorken when he was awake. He was strong, reliable and solid in his convictions. But what assailed him as he waited for her reply was, unquestionably, fear. Malia couldn’t have doubted his honesty even if she had wanted to. That would not bring back Cain, nor would it absolve Gorken of callously torturing someone. All it could do was straighten the painting, wipe the mirror clean.
                It was Malia’s turn to grasp his hand, “I will hold you to your word.”
                Relief almost dissolved Gorken’s expression, but he made an effort to remain composed. Despite his insistence on concealing weakness, those glimpses of it were Malia’s treasures.
                “Won’t Lyra scold you for neglecting your job?” she raised an eyebrow.
                Gorken picked the broom back up, “Not if you don’t snitch on me.”
                “Normally I would.” She jokingly patted her inert legs, “But seeing as I’m slacking off, we’ll be accomplices.”
                “Being bedridden is slightly different from slacking off, Princess.” Lyra walked in, “How are you feeling? Lady Kadem should be here any moment now.” The handmaiden then inspected Gorken’s mediocre sweeping work, “You’ll get better with practice.” She smiled pleasantly, “No time is better than the present. I’ll assist you.”
                “Lyra, did you get any sleep?” Malia asked, worried that Lyra’s hardworking personality would get the better of her.
                “Worry not Princess, I’ll sleep during the day after I’m done tidying up the place. Last night I tended to Lady Gabrielle, and she’ll need me again tonight. I must be well rested by then.” As she talked Lyra showed Gorken how to clasp the broom, wordlessly exhibiting the proper posture and the efficient, deliberate strokes he ought to use. Lyra was pleased to see he was a quick learner.
                “How is my master doing? Yesterday she looked… ill.”
                “She’s not ill,” Lyra scrubbed the table as she spoke, “but she’s not well either. It’s like… like her body is attacking itself from within. I’d never seen anything like that. Lady Kadem forbade me from using healing magic on her, saying it would only make it worse, but she didn’t explain why.”
                “In the dungeon,” Gorken didn’t stop brushing, “when she decided she would heal you… she looked scared. She warned me it would weaken her. Is that common among immortal magicians? Is it her price for using magic?”
                “No.” Malia said, “That’s not how that works. But I don’t know what could be wrong with her either.” Malia still remembered the day her master had explained her light bending magic, how she had insisted that it was the only magic she could use. It was normal for a magician to master one type of magic alone, given how extensive the studying and training had to be. But it wasn’t that they couldn’t try to learn more than one. If my master can’t, and even so she used healing magic to save me... “I need a word with my master.”
                “She’s still quite talkative, despite her condition.” Lyra grinned openly, “She’ll be happy to have more people to insult. Banter is sadly not one of my skills. She grows bored of my replies.”
                “That delightful talk will have to wait.” Kadem entered the room with the delicacy of a hurricane, “Lyra, dear, could you gather the rest of the children? Demons included.”
                “Of course.” Lyra left the room at once.
                Malia didn’t like to see Kadem ordering Lyra around, but she had no way of raising that concern without sounding like a spoiled child. She held her tongue as they waited for the rest of the group to assemble; it took a scarce minute at most for Lyra to return followed by Aldous, Bayard and the twins.
                Kadem pointed at the pages she had arranged on the table as she waited, “Scars, disabilities and missing limbs aside, now that we’re all safe and recovered it’s time to address the reason you came to me in the first place.” She held up the tattered book they had entrusted to her, the one Malia and Gorken had found in the vault of the northern palace. It had all been so recent, so seemingly urgent, and now it was almost a faded memory. But it came back to all of them swiftly enough. “I translated the contents of this book. Although more than a book, it was a letter interspersed with deranged ramblings. Here, I transcribed it for you.”
                Kadem tossed the parchment pages, and they landed on Malia’s lap at the center of the bed. Malia noted how, in spite of Kadem’s theatrical indifference, she had been careful not to read the pages herself, as if avoiding looking at a scab she had been picking at.
                “Go on. You do know how to read the common tongue, yes?” the silver witch prompted them.
                “Konrad taught us how to read.” Gorken nodded.
                “We’re familiar with each and every human language nature has witnessed.” Licorice assented.

                Malia held up the pages and her friends leaned on the bed, gathering around her to get a good look at the writing on them. Everyone settled in place. They all started reading.

Description

I'll be posting my story here as well!  If you're interested in it, please feel free to follow my other account: ManuWrites
Thank you if you take the time to read it!

Previous Chapter:
Next Chapter:

All Chapters HERE.

CHAPTER 32: A DAWN

                Sunlight poked Malia in the face. Her mind was awake, eager to greet the morning, but her body took its sweet time to catch up. It was a new experience for her to be trapped by her stubborn flesh when before it had always served her faithfully.
                As she waited for her eyes to obey her, confined by her eyelids in shallow darkness, a repetitive noise caught her interest. It wasn’t the faint sound of Kadem reading, occasionally shifting in her chair. It was a persistent and yet subtle… brushing? Rubbing?
                Before she could notice how she had done it, Malia was wide awake, scanning the area for the source of the intriguing sound. Kadem was no longer in the room, and instead Gorken was sweeping the floor near the door. The princess was no expert when it came to cleaning, but even she could tell that Gorken held the broom clumsily; until then she hadn’t considered how hard servants worked to look graceful as they performed their duties.
                Gorken reacted instantly to Malia sitting up, “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”
                “No.” she shook her head, “But what are you doing?”
                “Lyra asked us to help with the cleaning. She put me here, gave me this, and I couldn’t refuse.”
                That sounds like Lyra. Malia didn’t say anything for a few moments, so Gorken kept his distance. “…I haven’t thanked you yet,” she ran a hand over her braided hair, “for saving my life.”
                Gorken forsook the broom to grab Malia’s free hand, “Neither have I.”
                “So we’re even.” She looked away after a pause. She had trouble holding Gorken’s gaze, but she wasn’t sure why. She wasn’t angry, and yet something was amiss. Their rapport was like a crooked painting, or a dirty mirror. And he knew it too.
                “Not yet.” Gorken hardened his grip, “I have to apologize first... but I might just make it worse if I talk. Will you hear me out anyway?”
                “Always.” Malia faced him.
                “I am sorry for murdering Cain.” Gorken said, “But it’s not because I think torturing and killing an enemy is wrong. Once you’re someone’s enemy… I have seen how costly hesitation can be. I’ve seen how quickly allies can fall to a foe you failed to eliminate. No matter how much you may think about your ideals while you’re alone in your head, the world and the present and violence won’t care about any of it. Only what’s in front of you should shape your decisions.”
                He lowered his glance, “But right now, you’re what’s in front of me. I used you as an excuse to punish him, but I wasn’t doing it for you. I wasn’t thinking of your feelings, even whilst I crushed his limbs saying it was for your sake. I just wanted to feel better about myself. And like you said, I can’t take it back. I can’t make it right. I can only apologize... and swear that I’ll never disregard your feelings again… that even if we disagree, I’ll never rob you of being able to choose.”
                It was rare to see fear in Gorken when he was awake. He was strong, reliable and solid in his convictions. But what assailed him as he waited for her reply was, unquestionably, fear. Malia couldn’t have doubted his honesty even if she had wanted to. That would not bring back Cain, nor would it absolve Gorken of callously torturing someone. All it could do was straighten the painting, wipe the mirror clean.
                It was Malia’s turn to grasp his hand, “I will hold you to your word.”
                Relief almost dissolved Gorken’s expression, but he made an effort to remain composed. Despite his insistence on concealing weakness, those glimpses of it were Malia’s treasures.
                “Won’t Lyra scold you for neglecting your job?” she raised an eyebrow.
                Gorken picked the broom back up, “Not if you don’t snitch on me.”
                “Normally I would.” She jokingly patted her inert legs, “But seeing as I’m slacking off, we’ll be accomplices.”
                “Being bedridden is slightly different from slacking off, Princess.” Lyra walked in, “How are you feeling? Lady Kadem should be here any moment now.” The handmaiden then inspected Gorken’s mediocre sweeping work, “You’ll get better with practice.” She smiled pleasantly, “No time is better than the present. I’ll assist you.”
                “Lyra, did you get any sleep?” Malia asked, worried that Lyra’s hardworking personality would get the better of her.
                “Worry not Princess, I’ll sleep during the day after I’m done tidying up the place. Last night I tended to Lady Gabrielle, and she’ll need me again tonight. I must be well rested by then.” As she talked Lyra showed Gorken how to clasp the broom, wordlessly exhibiting the proper posture and the efficient, deliberate strokes he ought to use. Lyra was pleased to see he was a quick learner.
                “How is my master doing? Yesterday she looked… ill.”
                “She’s not ill,” Lyra scrubbed the table as she spoke, “but she’s not well either. It’s like… like her body is attacking itself from within. I’d never seen anything like that. Lady Kadem forbade me from using healing magic on her, saying it would only make it worse, but she didn’t explain why.”
                “In the dungeon,” Gorken didn’t stop brushing, “when she decided she would heal you… she looked scared. She warned me it would weaken her. Is that common among immortal magicians? Is it her price for using magic?”
                “No.” Malia said, “That’s not how that works. But I don’t know what could be wrong with her either.” Malia still remembered the day her master had explained her light bending magic, how she had insisted that it was the only magic she could use. It was normal for a magician to master one type of magic alone, given how extensive the studying and training had to be. But it wasn’t that they couldn’t try to learn more than one. If my master can’t, and even so she used healing magic to save me... “I need a word with my master.”
                “She’s still quite talkative, despite her condition.” Lyra grinned openly, “She’ll be happy to have more people to insult. Banter is sadly not one of my skills. She grows bored of my replies.”
                “That delightful talk will have to wait.” Kadem entered the room with the delicacy of a hurricane, “Lyra, dear, could you gather the rest of the children? Demons included.”
                “Of course.” Lyra left the room at once.
                Malia didn’t like to see Kadem ordering Lyra around, but she had no way of raising that concern without sounding like a spoiled child. She held her tongue as they waited for the rest of the group to assemble; it took a scarce minute at most for Lyra to return followed by Aldous, Bayard and the twins.
                Kadem pointed at the pages she had arranged on the table as she waited, “Scars, disabilities and missing limbs aside, now that we’re all safe and recovered it’s time to address the reason you came to me in the first place.” She held up the tattered book they had entrusted to her, the one Malia and Gorken had found in the vault of the northern palace. It had all been so recent, so seemingly urgent, and now it was almost a faded memory. But it came back to all of them swiftly enough. “I translated the contents of this book. Although more than a book, it was a letter interspersed with deranged ramblings. Here, I transcribed it for you.”
                Kadem tossed the parchment pages, and they landed on Malia’s lap at the center of the bed. Malia noted how, in spite of Kadem’s theatrical indifference, she had been careful not to read the pages herself, as if avoiding looking at a scab she had been picking at.
                “Go on. You do know how to read the common tongue, yes?” the silver witch prompted them.
                “Konrad taught us how to read.” Gorken nodded.
                “We’re familiar with each and every human language nature has witnessed.” Licorice assented.

                Malia held up the pages and her friends leaned on the bed, gathering around her to get a good look at the writing on them. Everyone settled in place. They all started reading.