The Heart & The Heir

Chapter 6

"What's happening?" Rhycilla asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Azkin held her tight, crouching beyond the tree line. "They'll be searching the inn," Günther breathed, kneeling close by. "We need to move. Now." With a silent nod from Azkin, they retreated deeper into the forest, out of sight of the Milnarious foot soldiers.

Günther cut a wide path through the trees. For a big man, he was light on his feet and fast. Azkin cradled Rhycilla in his arms, trailing behind, dodging the branches in the gathering darkness. He felt her eyes on his face as she shifted restlessly in his grasp.

"If you continue to squirm, I'm going to drop you."

"Stop, put me down. I'm feeling much better now." Azkin gave one quick sharp whistle through his teeth, signalling to Günther, before easing Rhycilla down on a fallen log blanketed in moss.

He watched her closely, her fingers digging into the moss, anchoring herself. "Cilla? Talk to me."

"I'm fine, Azkin, I just need a minute," she said between slow, deep breaths. "I could use a drink, though."

No sooern had the words left her lips, than Günther shoved the wineskin into Azkin's hand. For a human, his instincts were spot on.

Azkin uncorked the skin, pressing it tenderly into her hand. After a long sip, she opened her eyes, peering up into Azkin's face. "Didn't I tell you? You'd meet a man in black?"

"I told you, she was the heart," Gunther interjected.

"Wait, what does that mean? What heart?"

"She's the fated mate of the heir. Your wife, Azkin."

"You keep saying that, Günther; I'm not the heir, I'm a nobody."

"Only the heart will reveal the heir, shining a light on what was lost."

"That's very nice, but what does it mean?"

"It means, that moment you two connected for the first time, you radiated a light so bright it could be seen for miles. Only the heir could do that." Günther took a seat next to Rhycilla on the log, pushing his hood back from his head, running a hand through his dark hair. "It's the same reason you can move soundlessly. Why the forest responds to your every whim, and animals protect you. You are the heir to the Elven throne. I am your hand, your sword, and your shield."

"What he says is true, Azkin," Rhycilla agreed, slipping her hand into his.

"I'm a homeless orphan. There has to be some mistake." His gaze fell from Rhycilla's face to the ground. He spotted a loose stone. Drawing his leg back, he kicked it. It bounced soundlessly off the toe of his boot, before clattering down the path.

"Azkin, it was the Milnarious commander that hunted you and your mother down. He was bent on ending your line, so he could supplant you as ruler. There's one thing he underestimated."

"What's that?"

"You."

"Okay, so, if I'm the rightful ruler of the kingdom, what am I supposed to do?"

"Take the throne," Rhycilla said simply. "Azkin, you are what this world needs. I've seen the good you'll bring to our people."

"But?"

"But it won't be easy," Günther finished. "The ruler of Filandry has a familiar. An enchanted creature that can communicate only with them. 'When the moon rises, the leaves will fall.'"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Azkin said, meeting Günther's gaze.

"I haven't got the foggiest, but it's become a sort of secret greeting for those who support the Summer Court and re-establishing you as their king."

"What about you?" Azkin asked, peering into Rhycilla's face. "What have you seen?"

"Azkin, you know I cannot tell you that. It's dangerous knowing too much of one's own fate. Besides, what I see are only glimpses of what might be, not what will be. The smallest decision can change the entire course of one's life." Azkin dropped his gaze from her face, coming to rest on their clasped hands. "I know that wherever you go, I'll follow," she said, giving his hand a small squeeze before rising to her feet. "So, where to?"

"North," Günther replied.

"Why north?" Azkin asked, surprised.

"Why, to the seat of power and your home, the Summer Court."

***

They walked straight through till nightfall and on, not stopping until the moon was high in the sky. The small crescent shape casting only the faintest of light through the trees.

"We'll rest here for the night," Günther said, unbuckling his sword belt from his waist, letting it fall to the ground with a dull thud.

"We must be on our way before dawn," Rhycilla said, her voice tight. "We are not alone in these woods."

"I'll take first watch. You two get some sleep," Azkin said, taking a seat with his back against a large elm tree.

"But, Azkin, you haven't slept since the river!" she exclaimed.

"She's right, my Lord. You need to get some rest. I'll take first watch, then Rhycilla can trade off. She knows when we must leave. She can wake us when it's time."

"But—" Azkin started.

"No, sir, I insist," Günther said, cutting off his complaint.

"Fine, have it your way." Rhycilla sat down next to Azkin. Her legs warm through her thin skirt in the cool night. He felt her shiver. Wrapping an arm around her, she leaned in closer.

"This is nice," she whispered to Azkin, as Günther wandered behind a tree to relieve himself.

"What is?"

"This. Being able to touch someone without blinding them with images of their demise."

"Did that happen every time someone touched you?"

"When another elf did. I'm not too sure about humans, if they saw anything, I mean. They usually became violent and unnaturally aggressive."

"Is that what happened to those men I found you with?"

"I'd say it was safe to assume so."

"How long has this been going on?"

"Since I can remember. That was why my mother's new husband cast me out. He didn't like what he saw. He banished me from my home, my family, from everything I knew."

"How old were you then?"

"Ten."

"Cilla, that's awful." Azkin pulled Rhycilla closer, holding her to him. "You'll never be alone again, I swear."

"That's kind, but don't make promises you can't keep."

"If you two are planning on spending the night talking, let me know now, and I'll get some rest."

"Günther's right, we need to sleep. Goodnight, Azkin," Rhycilla breathed as she snuggled closer, shutting her eyes.

"Goodnight, Cilla."

***

Azkin's eyes flutter open to a lightening sky, Rhycilla shaking him, a finger to her lips. Günther stood close behind, his sword drawn and eyes scanning the trees.

It was still early. Dawn was a way off, but instantly Azkin's ears alerted him to what the others were focused on.

Footsteps.

A lot of footsteps.

They were quickly approaching.

Leaping into motion, Azkin was on his feet, taking Rhycilla's hand in his, bolting through the trees, following the slope down. Günther's sharp whistle redirected their path upward to the rocky slopes of the Etile Mountains.