The Chronicles of Jafnríki - Short Stories

A Brother's Regret - Ascal Silverstar's Story

Two children hovered over a beaker held above an open flame in a dark workshop. It had machines scattered everywhere, tools covering most work surfaces. Cloths draped over the lattice windows, pipes, and ducts were bolted onto the walls and ceiling, creaking every time something passed through them.

Both of them had porcelain skin, ocean-blue eyes, and blood-red locks. Their ears pointed elegantly at the corners. The younger child had a lean build compared to the girl, who was around a foot taller, developing curves from the early stages of adolescence.

The boy's arm cuffs matched the goggles perched upon his head, gold decorating the navy blue. He held a belt around his waist, storing a pouch and various vials containing different substances and powders. The girl's neck was accompanied by a restored pocket watch, the old, rusted chain replaced with a golden one.

The older child gazed at the younger, concerned. Bubbles emerged from the mixture now and again. The boy's eyes glistened as he peered at the brew in progress, swapping between mixing the substance and preparing the next ingredient.

'Aurae!' The boy – now a young man screamed, shooting up from his bed, beads of sweat rolling from his forehead, hair slightly damp.

The child had grown into a fine young elf. His height rivalled most, and his physical build was well-developed, broader, and stronger. His blood-red locks grew softer and more fluffy, curls slightly more defined with time; he kept his hair at a similar length and style, although its maintenance was more infrequent. His button-up pyjamas clung to his skin.

Upon hearing his screams, another flung the door to the bedroom open and rushed to his side. His ears differed slightly from the young elf's; their corners were softer, not quite an elf's, but not human either. He bared ash-brown hair and sky-blue eyes.

'What happened, Ascal? Another nightmare?' He asked, his voice panicked but soft.

'It's fine, Nigel. Same as always. As fresh as the day it happened.' Ascal's breathing slowed, glancing at Nigel. 'I'll be downstairs soon. Go and eat; save some for me.'

The corner of Nigel's lips moved slightly as he made his way to the door. 'You better hurry up, though; Ailwyn and Kallista will be here soon. Wouldn't want to miss them.' Ascal immediately ripped the bedsheet off of his legs, spinning his body to stand. 'Thought that might get you moving!' Nigel's cheeky grin flashed brighter than ever, closing the door behind himself.

Once Ascal stepped downstairs, he was welcomed by a young, elderly woman. Her grey hair still had hints of her once-ash head, and her eyes held a warm golden hue. 'Oh! Ascal, you're finally awake. Your food's on the table.'

He kissed her on the cheek, 'Thanks, Amelia. What time are Kalli and Ailwyn coming over?' Amelia whipped her head around to Nigel and threw an old rag at him.

'Stop giving the boy false hope! It's the third time this week. He won't believe you when they actually come round... We'll probably see them tonight, Ascal; it's Nigel's first night performing in the Treacle Well, so no doubt they'll be there.'

'It's fine, Amelia. He'll do anything to take the piss out of me.' Ascal was now also facing Nigel, 'Why in the Four Realms didn't you tell me about it when you woke me? That would have gotten me out of bed!'

'But would it have been as effective?' Both men snickered as Ascal sat down to eat his porridge.

'Now hurry up and eat! You two squabbling's going to make Ascal late for market.' Amelia began placing jars into small crates, Nigel helping.

'He's lucky he's a Máttríkian. His concoctions would be labelled as witches' brews otherwise.'

'Who's to say they don't? I make special orders for the Royal Guard; probably the only reason I'm not burning at the stake.' Ascal picked up the filled crates. 'I'll see you both later, okay?' He glanced at the top crate and noticed a couple of bottles missing, pausing in his tracks. "Did I not bring through the flash bombs?"