Daughter of the Wind

16. Clash of Mages

Fifteenth of Harvest

Belkai woke to find herself laying across Davos, her head resting on his bare chest. His arm was stretched down her back to her thigh, and she stayed motionless for a few minutes listening to his steady breathing. She knew that he was falling in love with her, but she didn't know how to respond. She wanted to let herself feel the same, but she was numb. It had been a long time since she had felt true joy, though thanks to the man tucked in against her, the last few days had been the closest that she had come in many years.

It had begun three years before. Her insatiable desire for knowledge had led her to the forbidden areas of the Order's library, where they stored ancient and dangerous texts. There she had read of the darker realms, where the nightmares and fears that plagued mortals found their home. The whispers had started then, giving promises of pleasure beyond compare, of understanding beyond what the Order could offer her. In the dark of the night, this Daughter of the Wind had surrendered to the most insistent of the whispers, the one that seemed to understand her best. 'Ashelath', he had called himself. At first Belkai had been filled with wonder. Each night he would visit her and as she listened longingly, he would share with her secrets from all the realms under the sun. It had been intoxicating, but over time her heart had faded. Her desire for knowledge soon became a desperate craving. The gaining of knowledge no longer gave her pleasure, but only left her needing more. She had never known the feeling of love, though she had chased it when the opportunities arose. Ashelath's whispers had grown darker, his words piercing. She learned to call him the Tormentor, and he seemed to enjoy her fear. Where the whispers led now filled her heart with horror. And then he had made his only request: find the Recluse. Learn his secrets, and share them with Ashelath.

"Why do you need a mortal's aid?" she had asked. He had not given an answer, only saying that the Recluse was hidden to his view. She had no choice – Brimur had also ordered her to investigate the Forest. Following two masters, she had set out on her journey.

As she felt Davos' body shift against her, a single tear fell from Belkai's eye, landing in her hair spread across his chest. For all the darkness that he must have sensed in her, still he was falling in love. How could that be? Was there some glimmer of light that still had a chance of breaking out? Somehow that concept felt too far out of her reach. Until now, all that she had felt was a dead coldness. The warmth that had begun to grow in her was as foreign as the surface of the moon.

Belkai pushed the thoughts aside, determined not to waste her morning in philosophy. Love or no love, there were many things that she still enjoyed. She reached below the blanket and stroked his chest as she turned her head to kiss him on the neck.

"Morning, lover," she whispered between kisses. He stirred, giving a tired smile before running a hand through her hair. He stopped as he felt a small scar on the back of her neck.

"How'd you get that?" he asked quietly. With her face on his chest, he couldn't see the darkness that briefly flashed through her eyes.

"The Order hired orcs to teach us to fight," she lied. Ashelath left his mark on all of his slaves. "Things got rough."

"Did you win?"

She smiled and kissed his chest.

"Always."

"I imagine you would," he said before pressing his lips to hers. "You're a fighter."

"I'm a few other things as well," she said with an impish grin as her hands drifted lower. Davos let his hands do their own talking as their bodies locked together.

* * *

Loranna and Roulson were waiting outside when Belkai and Davos left the inn. Belkai had taken the time to clean herself up, wrapping her hair in a ponytail and dressing in her pants and leather shirt. Loranna saw the look in Belkai's eye and hid a grin.