The Mage's Familiar

13. Stranger in the Garden

"Ena?" Olwen breathed.

After listening to Nas recount his encounter in the twilit garden she sat back on the bed, pressing her hands to her eyes. She had heard that name somewhere before. But where? Nas had remembered the conversation clearly and she was able to scrawl it quickly in a small notebook which she kept tucked in a deep drawer in her vanity. The interaction was suspicious. The Emperor had been mentioned. Olwen frowned. She hadn't even met him and already there was a sense of uncomfortable intrigue filling the palace grounds. It was none of her business and she refused to agonize over her captor. Nas came to lay beside her in human form, resting his head on her shoulder. She patted him absently but felt unsettled and nervous. Her education had been progressing quickly and her probationary period would soon be at an end. Her meeting with the Emperor was inevitable. She moved Nas gently away from her and he whined in protest as she rose and grabbed her cloak from her wardrobe.

"Are you going out, Master?" Nas groaned, rolling onto his stomach. "I have only just lain with you."

Olwen wanted to smile but couldn't resist glowering at him. Sometimes he was so much like a child.

"You may stay here," she replied curtly. "I just need to walk off my uneasiness. I will return shortly."

Nas hid his face in his arms as she pulled up her hood and left the room, making her way towards the garden. The night was deep and dark but the air was comfortable and the gentle hum of insects and songs of frogs filled Olwen with a sense of peace. She sought the place that Nas had described and followed Ena's path, finding herself standing outside of the knight's quarters. Ena! Her eyes widened. Ena was a knight like herself. She knew her in name only, as she had not yet finished her private lessons and joined the personal knights. None of them had approached her and she was largely ignorant of them. But she had learned their names during a recent lesson. Why had a personal knight of the Emperor been sneaking around the garden? Olwen shrugged as she turned away, headed for the fountain at the garden's heart. Ena was none of her concern. As she ducked under a low willow branch the fountain came into view. It was very grand with three tiers and sculpted ornamentation made from the same white marble as the palace. A few carefully placed lamps lit the rushing water and made it shimmer, flashing white and gold as she approached. She sat along the edge and dipped a tentative hand into the lowest pool. It was cold to the touch and she pulled her hand back only to hear a low laugh from the opposite side of the fountain. Startled, she rose to her feet and took a step back.

"Who's there?" she called out.

A dark figure rose from the fountain's edge and came into view as it approached. It was a man, young and very handsome, with dark hair and eyes. He appeared almost sickly with a slender build and pale skin but somehow this fragility made him all the more alluring. His expression was gentle but very guarded. Olwen noticed the ease and confidence of his bearing. He must be of high status, despite the simplicity of his loose white shirt and fitted trousers. None of his clothing seemed particularly fine, but he appeared perfectly comfortable in the garden of the palace. Olwen bowed her head without taking her eyes off of him. He smiled gently in response.

"There's no need to fear, Lady," he said softly. His voice was lower than she had expected but his accent and delicate tone were carefully practiced. She wasn't sure what to make of him.

"Are you well, Sir?" she asked. His skin shone with fever but he did not appear at all distressed.

"I am well enough," he replied quietly. "I hope it would not be impertinent to ask your name. I have never seen you in the palace."

Olwen hesitated, but could not think of an excuse to refuse.

"I am Olwen, sir," she replied. "I am soon to be a knight of the Emperor."

The man raised his eyebrows.

"Really?"

"Yes, sir."

"I am Cefrin," he replied. "Are you often in the garden at this hour?"

"No sir. This is my first visit so late in the evening."

"Well I hope you will come again," Cefrin said softly. "The garden is not always safe though, Miss Olwen. You should be cautious."

Olwen raised an eyebrow but said nothing, nodding in return. She attempted to keep her eyes downcast but could not pull her gaze from Cefrin's face. Though he made a valiant effort to conceal his condition, she could clearly see his suffering. He was ill and weak and every graceful move he made required much effort. She sat on the edge of the fountain and beckoned him to join her, which he did. Relief washed over him as he sat and his breathing grew labored. Despite his best attempts he could no longer hide his fatigue and pain. He said nothing but struggled to keep upright as Olwen watched. He needed help. She took a deep breath.

"If I may, sir," she asked. "Would you permit me to touch your hand? You seem to have a fever."

Cefrin shook his head but offered his hand which she took carefully in both of hers. His fever was worse than she had expected. It was impressive that he was still conscious, let alone upright and communicative. Olwen knew she could not delay. She took a deep breath and visualized her power accumulating in the tips of her fingers. Usually she used potions or some type of catalyst to apply her healing ability to patients. But there was no time. It was harder to control her abilities this way but it was her only option. As she exhaled she pushed her mana into Cefrin in delicate tendrils that wound gently up his arms and disappeared into his chest. Her healing only produced a small amount of light, but it was enough to illuminate their faces. Cefrin had a look of amazement on his face as he watched the magic unfold around him. After a few long moments, Olwen felt his body reaching its limit. Each person could only absorb so much mana before suffering ill side effects. She pulled her power gently back and the light slowly faded. Cefrin was visibly improved, much more alert and less feverish, as he leaned away in surprise.

"You are the healer," he breathed.

"Yes, sir. Do you feel any better?"

Cefrin smiled broadly and she was taken aback by how changed he appeared. His gloomy expression replaced by one of delight made his face all the more beautiful.

"I feel much better," he replied. "I thank you most sincerely."

"It was my pleasure. I could not leave you in such a state. You should see a physician in the morning. You are not fully recovered."

"No doctor has been able to help me. My disease is-" Cefrin paused, raised a hand to his mouth, and shook his head. "I will do as you suggest."

He rose to his feet and stretched, smiling as his muscles relaxed and he turned to Olwen. He bowed deeply at the waist and held a hand out to her. She offered her hand reflexively and he raised it quickly, kissing her gently on her fingers. Olwen tried to hide the blush that crept over her face.

"I hope to meet you again, Miss Olwen," he said. "But I am afraid I must leave quickly. A guard is soon due to arrive and I should not be caught running free in the garden."

At his words Olwen could faintly detect the footsteps of an armored figure approaching. She nodded and Cefrin bounded off into the darkness, leaving her bewildered and curious.