Lost souls

9 ☾ Stopped in time

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Raor

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I explained to the guys that I had met Gazazhel in a bizarre chance encounter, then described the rest of the events, emphasizing that the white knight had been very loyal to me.

"He smells fishy." Blair looked annoyed and bored, stretching languidly. The banquet was in full swing.

"I knew you'd say that," I reply, and for a few moments, the subject takes a break.

My stomach experienced a satisfying sense of fullness. I almost couldn't believe I'd eaten such delicious food... how much would I have to pay for allowing myself such a fine meal?

My Unseelie Fairies would punish me instantly... according to them, I should feed on frogs and burnt bread.

I checked on Gazazhel two or three times. He kept me within his field of vision. Those cobalt eyes had the immense power to make me uneasy.

"Why does he wear a mask?" Ainnir asked, shivering.

"I don't know." I drowned my unease in mead.

Daven, seated on the other side of the table, looked over his shoulder and studied him discreetly. "Do you know what impression I get? Of a knight who has nothing to do with our world and who popped up out of nowhere."

"No one comes out of nowhere, dear Daven," our chocolate-skinned friend corrected him.

The bountiful banquet concluded, and the bagpipers were called. The court maidens, by tradition, invited the knights to dance the energetic dances of Ocleodathe's people; there were clapping, melodious songs, and intense chatter.

We parted ways: Ainnir went to argue with a knight who had made an unwelcome joke, Moyna danced with a young man who had kindly approached her, Blair stole desserts, and Daven scared a group of girls by lifting his eye patch.

The horrified squeals could be heard from meters away, and I saw the blond boy laughing. Showing his blind eye to the fairer sex was a strict tradition of his.

Leaning against a column with folded arms, I was counting the minutes passing as slowly as sand slipping through an hourglass. I felt out of place in such a festive context.

"You have a funeral expression."

He read my mind...

"It's a small world, isn't it?" I said without enthusiasm.

"Very," Gazazhel agreed. I wondered if he was smiling or if his lips were pressed in a straight, expressionless line. "I told you the light of Legend would bring us together again."

My enthusiasm dwindled completely. "Congratulations, you've earned a fine title. Many knights would want to be in your place."

"Not you?"

Gazazhel was as tall as I remembered. He touched my shoulder effortlessly, so he was close to six foot three.

"No. I'm a lost one."

"Be proud of the knight you are, Raor. You found your path and returned with only the strength of your spirit. So, tell the whole world that you are a lost one and emphasize it when you introduce yourself."

I followed Master Telpar's advice to the letter.

Gazazhel chuckled under his mask; his voice, as usual, was altered by some enchantment — is it crafted by a Druid, or is it the mask itself that creates the effect? — and the silence between us became a bit awkward. A knight so different from me treating me amicably was beyond my understanding.