Arwick (A Light Of Roria Sequel)

Chapter Thirty

The water was warm, and the square bar of soap smelled like the flowers of the trees. I scrubbed myself rigorously, the heat of my bath releasing the tension of my muscles.

My mother, who had kept her back to me as I bathed, set a dress on the floor beside the tub. "This is for you, Addisyn," she said sweetly. "I have told our kin that the name I had given you is no more, and if they shall call upon you, it shall be by Addisyn."

"Oh," I said, forgetting she'd given me another name. "Thank you. I-I happen to really like my name." I paused before realizing my own words. "Not that I would have hated the other."

She waved her hand to stop me. "Addisyn is beautiful. And fits who you grew to be." She hadn't looked at me, keeping her eyes straight ahead, but the side of her face could now be seen. Her markings were a soft lilac, and I realized she too had one in the shape of a crescent moon on her cheek.

"We have the same mark on our cheek," I said, touching my own where I'd remembered it to be.

Grinning, she did the same. "So did my own mother. A rare sign of our lineage, I suppose. Given our markings are always so different," she started out. "Now I shall take my leave. This place is as much your own as it is mine, so use whatever comforts you wish. You need not ask." With a soft wave of her hand, Priscilla stepped beyond the thick curtain that covered the door leading outside.

When my tears had continued, Priscilla had guided me to the tree she'd stepped out of, gently ushering me to a nearby hammock. Holding it steady, she had me lay upon the soft material, running her hands through my tangled mess of hair while I continued to cry until sleep finally took me. When I'd awakened, I'd finally taken in my surroundings, surprised at the simplicity of a room that had clearly been hers. She was, after all, the queen. There were floating shelves made of the same wood as the tree, holding items such as pots for cooking as well as one where a single bird was perched and sleeping soundly. My guess had been that it was some kind of falcon. His feathers were white as snow near his head, darkening the farther down his body I looked, to a soft gray, to ash, before turning black as coal. A small box of iron lay snugly against the trunk wall, with room enough for several pieces of wood, glowing ember from the flames and a rod above the fire for cooking. Beyond that there was only one other source of light inside, and I realized it was the same diamond from the flowers of the trees, its luminescence vibrantly shimmering. Among the other shelves were a plethora of books, which caused me to smile, realizing where I had gained my love for reading from.

Near a small round table was a rocking chair. Priscilla, who hummed with her face in a book, had finally noticed I had awakened, offering to prepare me a bath, having the tub wheeled in when I'd agreed.

Drying myself off with a long towel, I put on the dress she'd given me, struggling a little with the ties in the back.

It was a burgundy with the same sleeves as the dress I'd seen on Priscilla with a V-neck just above my cleavage. The train was short, and I wondered how anyone kept anything clean if it dragged through the dirt. My mother had also left a pair of shoes that resembled ballerina flats with a strap that fastened over the top of my foot.

Looking in the mirror that lay next to her hammock, I raised a brow at my messy and wet hair. "Doesn't really go with this fancy dress," I said aloud to myself.

There is a brush on the shelf to your left. You might consider using it. The falcon finally roused, and I sensed his thoughts.

Grinning, I faced the creature. "I'm Addisyn." He gave a squawk before flying to a shelf closer than the one he'd been on. "Thanks, by the way," I said, reaching for the brush he'd pointed out. "What's your name?"