Waiting For Apricity

Chapter 7

Interesting story

Karlaious is the first to break the silence, his voice low and full of concern. "You've taken a lot in tonight," he murmurs, his words soothing like a balm to my weary soul. "Rest now. I'll make sure your chambers are protected." His gaze lingers on me, a silent promise, before he pulls away, turning to instruct the guards to keep a vigilant watch over my room.

I stand there for a moment, my heart still racing, overwhelmed by the tenderness of his touch and the warmth of his words. The castle's beauty—the towering walls and glittering chandeliers—fades into the background, as all I can think of is the feeling of his touch that lingered on my arm, and the sense of safety blooming in my chest. A smile tugs at my lips, soft and content, and I make my way into my room, ready to rest and savour this rare, fleeting peace.

As I step into the room, I can't help but reflect on how different it is from the one I once called my own. My old room in the forest, nestled high in the branches of ancient trees, was humble but full of charm. It smelled of ferns year-round, the scent mingling with the crisp freshness of the forest air. Though I loved it, it leaked in the harsh winter, and the comfort it offered was always tempered by the knowledge of its fragility. The contrast of this new room—the solid walls, the plush furnishings, and the warmth of the castle—strikes me. A feeling of unease stirs, as I think about the simplicity of my past, and how little the other creatures have in comparison to the wealth that surrounds me now.

The room was so lavish that it almost felt like a dream. The floors were an intricate blend of white and gold marble, their smooth surface glistening beneath the soft glow of candlelight. Every piece of furniture was handcrafted with care, made from what I imagined to be the finest oak and birch, the wood rich in texture and warmth. My bed, with its grand four posts, was a masterpiece in itself—carved from the same deep oak, adorned with layers upon layers of bedding, soft and inviting, more than I ever owned in clothing.

A large arched window overlooked the entire kingdom, offering a panoramic view of the sprawling lands bathed in twilight's glow. Beneath the window, a plush cushioned couch sat, piled high with duck-feathered pillows. A small mountain of books, none of which I had ever seen before, lay scattered on the couch, their spines whispering tales I was eager to discover. The beauty of the room was undeniable, but in the pit of my stomach, there was a lingering feeling—a sense of displacement, as though I didn't belong in such opulence.

I sank into the magnificent bed, the cool sheets sending a shiver through my body. As I settled, the mattress gave a slight bounce, and I couldn't help but smile at the softness beneath me. The sensation was so comforting, so alien to the rough-hewn simplicity of my old life, that I flung myself back into its embrace, squirming with delight, a quiet groan escaping my lips as I tried to process the overwhelming comfort of it all.

The warmth of the bed began to lull me, but then my gaze drifted upward, to the canopy above. My breath caught in my throat, and my heart fluttered as I took in the most mesmerizing piece of artwork I'd ever seen. It was an oil painting of the night sky, endless and deep, with a million twinkling stars. A male demon, his wings shimmering in hues of teal and gold, with jet-black hair that cascaded like shadows, held his lover in the sky. Her auburn hair caught the starlight, and atop her head, a crown made of stardust glimmered like a piece of the cosmos itself.

I stared at the painting, lost in its beauty, until my eyelids grew heavy, and my mind drifted into slumber, the echoes of the night sky and the lovers' embrace whispering me into dreams.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

My eyes snapped open to the sound of a sudden banging. "Apricity, if you're not going to answer, I'm coming in! You're worrying me!" The door burst open, and there stood Karlaious, his brow furrowed in annoyance, a plate of food held firmly in his hands. I couldn't help but burst into laughter at the sight of his pout and the determination on his face.

"Haha, Karlaious, I'm sorry. I must have dozed off while admiring the painting above my head!" I said, still chuckling.

His pout shifted into a smirk, and he walked toward me, setting the plate of food down on a wooden cabinet nearby before sitting himself on the edge of the bed. "There's a story behind that painting," he said, his voice low and inviting. "Would you like to hear it, Apricity?" His question lingered in the room like a quiet challenge.

I looked up at him, feeling a blush creeping up my cheeks as my heart fluttered with anticipation. "Go on then..." I whispered, trying to mask my curiosity. "But if it's tragic, I won't forgive you." A soft smile curled at my lips as I spoke, the warmth of the moment settling around us.

Karlaious smiled softly in return, then climbed onto the bed to face me. His ebony wings, unfurled and loose, draped across the silk blankets like a dark waterfall. "It's not a tragedy, Apricity. It's my history, my heritage," he said, crossing his legs in the same way I had, his eyes holding mine as he began to share a story that felt as old as the land itself.

"Long ago," he began, his voice rich and deep, "in the early days of Moanae, the land was wild and untamed, ruled by chaos and magic. The creatures who lived here fought for survival, and there was no peace to be found."

I listened intently, my imagination painting the picture of the ancient, mystical land he described, alive with untamed beauty and dangers.

"Among the chaos, a young demon warrior named Aleron rose to prominence. He was fierce, determined, with wings of teal and gold that shimmered like the stars themselves. Aleron sought to bring order to the land and unite the warring tribes under one rule."

Karlaious's voice softened, reverence creeping into his words as he spoke of his ancestor. "During his quest, he met a human woman named Lyra, a healer with hair the colour of autumn leaves and eyes that could see the truth in everything. Despite their differences, they fell deeply in love. Lyra's wisdom and compassion tempered Aleron's fierce nature, and together, they forged an alliance between demons and humans."

I could almost see them in my mind—Aleron, strong and noble, and Lyra, gentle and wise. The bond between them felt almost tangible.

"They faced many trials," Karlaious continued, his voice quiet but steady, "but their love never wavered. Side by side, they brought peace to the land, eventually becoming the first king and queen of Moanae. Their union symbolised the harmony between our two races, a bond that has endured through the ages."

His fingers, which had been gently playing with my hair, now paused, and I felt the weight of his words settle within me. "That painting," he said, nodding toward the canopy above, "is a tribute to their love and their legacy. It's a reminder of where we come from and the strength we carry within us."

I looked up at the painting again, seeing it now with fresh eyes. The stars shone brighter, the figures of Aleron and Lyra seemed more vivid, their love immortalised in the night sky. Karlaious, now lying beside me, gazed at the painting with a quiet intensity.

"Thank you for sharing this with me," I whispered, my heart full.

"You're welcome." His voice was soft, almost a caress. "Now, rest. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."