The Sprinter

Chapter 12

“You’re supposed to be dead,” Arothena said, her clipped accent making her statement sound like more of a question than a statement.

“So are you,” the man replied, the Commander standing motionless on his right. The man was quite handsome, with his square jaw, and his long, sugary brown hair. It hung in straggles, and just graced his shoulders. It was mostly tied up, but the wind had freed a few stands, and whipped them forward, just stroking his sharp cheekbones. He had soft, hazel eyes, but they were matched with a wicked smile, showing gleaming white teeth. He had a pair of swords strapped in an X across his back, and a pair of similarly crafted knives at his hips. Even standing next to the yenaki, he managed to look dangerous - a skill few possessed.

Salene stepped forward from Eloise’s other side.

“So we know who you are,” she said, gesturing towards the man, her elegant voice breaching the void between the two parties with ease, “but who are you?” she asked, flinging her sculpted hand in the direction of the yenaki.

Eloise had come to know him as the Commander, the one who always led the chase, the confrontations. It was he who had come for her that day at The Curved Swords, he who had taken her to the prison. It was always him. When she dreamed at night, through the oblivion of sleep, it was always his face she saw. It was sharply defined, every bone and muscle in his body accented. His black eyes seemed to gleam brighter than those of the others. He had golden hair, which formed gentle waves across his scalp. However, despite these beautiful features, it was his smile, the cruel contortion of his dark lips, that haunted her. The dark amusement that promised pain, and death.

“I believe you know who I am.”

Salene smiled, her ruby lips imitating their twisted grins.

“Oh do you?”

“Yes. I also know that stalling only helps when there are people on their way to help you. You have none. Your friend,” he stated, glancing at Ronan, “has made sure of that,”

Ronan bared his fangs, pulling his top lip up. Salene glanced back at Arothena, suddenly unsure of herself, wariness flitting across her pretty features. Arothena nodded, and she stepped back.

“What do you want,” she asked, her accent less noticeable than the weariness which had become so apparent in her voice. Eloise would’ve thought it was an act, had it not been for the matching emotion suddenly awakened in her eyes. The man opened his mouth, eyes glinting with triumph and amusement, but she silenced him with a wave of her hand.

“I wasn’t talking to you. I know what you want, and we’ll discuss it in a moment. What about you?”

Ronan stared at Arothena in shock, but she merely put a hand on his arm, pushing him away. The yenaki Commander spoke up.

“We want the girl, the boy wants you,”

The ‘boy’ did not look overly pleased at being called such, but he refused to tear his gaze from Arothena. Aidrel stepped forward this time.

“Arothena will not give herself up for your pride. And the girl,” he said, turning to face the Commander, “does not want to go with you. That is where we stand. Maybe you’d like to begin negotiations?”

Eloise had to stifle her smile. Aidrel had - stood up for her. And he’d had the sheer audacity to suggest that the yenaki compromise.

“I would not,” the Commander replied, his voice stiff, yet bored, killing any happiness she may have felt in the moment before.

“I am leaving,” Arothena declared, staring at the man standing next to the Commander, his wicked smile fading into little more than a cold smirk, “and I am not returning. You will be the most skilled assassin in Cestrada, and indeed, all of Hardelorn, yes,” she added in response to his pointed glare. “Will that satisfy you, Arden?”