Denial of the Whisper

Chapter Nine.

Chapter Nine.

"Adriyele, this is my brother, Nyshard Drhyad, Lord of High Ilryn", Dylana introduced the man with the blue eyes.

And I stared at her brother.

He was tall, not as tall as Caaln, but he... he took another step into my direction, as if he was a predator. As if I was his prey.

And as prey, I was too afraid to even dare to make a move.

To flee. Everything around him screamed power.

"You're still bleeding. Can't you heal yourself at all?", he asked silently, and I clenched my shaking fists, feeling completely and utterly defenceless, as my open cuts burned and I felt fresh blood pouring out of them.

What Brayhd had said the evening before, about auras... I felt his. I definitely felt his, and it was like a thick blanket, covering me, prodding, searching for...
"Nysh, stop that.", Dylana said and scowled at her brother.
"I needed to feel it myself", Nyshard nodded, side-glancing his sister now.

"It's scaring her."

"But it makes sense, though.", Nyshard tilted his head and eyed me once more, clenching his jaw when he took closer notice of my hands with the makeshift bandages.
"Show me your hands."

I glared at him, but did as I was told. He had something... a presence... I didn't know how to describe it. Everything about him screamed power, and I somehow knew that he was a force to reckon with, even now, that he seemed to have pulled back his aura. It was still there. Just like Caaln's or Dylana's I felt it, it was like a shimmer on their skin. A deadly shimmer.

But Nyshard... he was different. With Dylana and Caaln, even maybe Brayhd, I didn't feel as much in danger as I felt now, when he was just looking at me. There was a coldness, something dark and vicious around him that pushed me to run. His dark hair and dark clothes were a complete contrast to the brightness of the room, of the castle and the city itself, and so was he. While Dylana had described the city and their people as something that had sounded friendly, warm, bright, its ruler seemed like quite the opposite.

"Go on, girl.", he murmured and for a short moment, his expression got softer, as I bit hard on my lower lip to not let any sign of pain escape me, and unwrapped the halfway soaked bandages and took a look at the cuts, that I had brought upon myself by sliding down that rope too fast.

"Does it hurt?", he asked, and almost sounded as if he'd cared.

Almost.

I remained silent.

"That was stupid.", Nyshard remarked and looked from my palms to my face, his eyes narrowed.

"Maybe I'm just a stupid human girl.", I hissed and for a moment, my fear was forgotten.
Why did no one understand that I wanted to flee? Why did they bet on it, why had none of them any understanding of why I didn't want to be here?

Maybe I was stupid. But first of all, I was desperate.

But Nyshard didn't let me provoke him, instead he only said, his voice cold again "Not just maybe."

He could have just punched me, it hurt the same.

In that moment, I heard steps and Caaln arrived with an elderly woman, that had also healed my bruises just the day before. She looked at me, surprised and said to Nyshard "Good morning, Milord. Milady Dylana", she inclined her head in a short bow, then she looked at me again, headshaking. "I hope you're not planning to let this become a habit, my dear."

I didn't say a thing, as the healer, she'd told me the day before that her name was Srandi, told me to sit on a chair and kneeled before me to clean my wounds.