Her Ice

Chapter Eight

At dawn, Elisheva and Metcalf mounted the horse and headed away from the cave. A few minutes into the journey Elisheva asked Metcalf, "What's your friends name that we are going to see?"

"Stuart," he answered her. "He'll be able to help you."

They traveled in a comfortable silence until the sun was at its highest peak in the sky. They stopped by a tall ice form and Metcalf started to fix a stew for them to eat.

Elisheva walked little ways away so she could practice her fighting. She faced an old rotten tree stump and closed her eyes. Like before she brought back all her anger towards her sister and connected it with her magic. She opened her eyes and held out both hands in front of her. Concentrating, she let out a sharp shard of ice shooting towards the stump. The ice shard lodged itself into a crack. Elisheva pictures the stump as a person and imagined the ice shard sticking out of the person's chest or stomach. She shuttered and fell to the ground disgusted of herself.

Why would I think of something like that? she asked herself. I'm not going to use this kind of magic unless someone attacks me. Would I even be able to bring myself to kill them? No, she shook her head, I don't think I could.

"Elisheva?" Metcalf sat down beside her. "That was some pretty good aim." He pointed to the shard still in the stump. Looking back at her he noticed how sad she looked. "What's wrong?"

Elisheva looked away from Metcalf and answered quietly, "I don't think I can kill someone. If fighting means killing someone, then I don't think I can do it."

Metcalf gave a small smile and tried to comfort her by wrapping an arm around her. "You know, if you don't kill them they will kill you instead. Elisheva, you want your throne back don't you?" Elisheva nodded her head. She wasn't sure how she was going to get it back, but she was determined to get what was rightfully hers. "Then you need to trust me when I tell you that people are going to get in your way and sometimes the only way to make them move is if you kill them. I know, it's harsh, but it's reality." When Elisheva didn't look at him, he sighed and stood up. "I'll leave you alone now." He turned to leave when a hand grabbed his.

"Please," Elisheva whimpered, "stay."

Metcalf sat back down beside her and let her lean into him.

"I know that death is a reality, but I don't want to be a part of it," she explained. She closed her eyes and saw the image of her parents bleeding out onto the floor of the throne room in her head. "I would rather live my life without any blood on my hands. I just don't understand how my sister could have killed my parents as quickly as she did." I don't want to become like my sister. She leaned her head against Metcalf's shoulder.

"I think the stew might be ready," Metcalf told her trying to change the subject. "Come on." He helped her up and they both walked over to where the stew sat cooking over a fire. He told her to sit against the ice form and relax. He took two bowls from the saddle bags on Pulchra's back and filled them with the stew. He handed one of the bowls to Elisheva before sitting down next to her. They sat there silently eating their stew, savoring the warmth of it.

Finally, once their stew was done and the fire was put out, they remounted and set out in the direction that Stuart lived. Elisheva was quiet and thoughtful the whole time. She leaned back against Metcalf and looked around her. There was snow, flat snow, all around them. Nothing, not even a single tree was in sight. The sun, beating down on them, didn't provide the warmth it usually gave, it just sat there in the sky providing light. Such a strange place. She shivered and leaned closer to Metcalf hoping to share his warmth. Metcalf used one of his hands to wrap the blanket around her shoulders tighter before bringing her closer against him. He kept his arm around her waist, keeping her flushed against him.

A few hours later the sun started to set against the flat horizon. They stopped where they were and proceeded to make camp. Metcalf made a small fire and sat watching Elisheva. She was sitting beside Pulchra feeding her with some grass in her hand that she was able to find. There wasn't much grass out in Exilium, but when she saw it, she had to feed it to Pulchra. Once Pulchra was finished eating the grass, Elisheva stood up and walked over to Metcalf. She sat down beside him and gave him a small smile.

"Where did you get the grass?" he asked her while returning her smile.

Elisheva wiped her hand over the snowy ground to reveal large amounts of green grass underneath. "If ever this place thaws, it will become a beautiful meadow. Who knows, maybe people from Adamantes would want to move here." She looked up at the fire thoughtfully and hugged her knees.

Metcalf watched her while she talked and wondered how someone who just had something traumatic happen to them could still see the beauty in everything. He turned his attention back to the fire. Silence engulfed them again and something came to Metcalf at that time. "I want to show you something."

Elisheva looked at him. "Oh? And what is that?"

"I remembered this spell that I learned when I was a child that prevented intruders from coming anywhere near you. I used it last night." He leaned towards her and whispered the spell in her ear. He lingered there for a few seconds taking in the fact on how close he was to her. He leaned back and repeated the spell out loud. "There, it's set."

"So now we can both sleep instead of getting only a few hours," she said smiling. "That's smart."

Metcalf laughed. "Thanks."

Elisheva looked around and decided that it was probably time to go to sleep. Planting a quick kiss on his cheek, she said to him, "Goodnight, Metcalf." She then laid down and fell asleep.

He looked over at her and smiled. He leaned down and planted a kiss on her forehead. "Goodnight, Eva."