|[ THE FAERI'S KEEPER ]|

Chapter 14: Convicted - Part 1

The next week passed in a horrible, dark blur. I felt as if the colour in my life had been sucked out, leaving me in a plain, grey-scale world. I had never felt so alone, never in my twelve years of solitude; in my twelve years of fighting the Empire. But now, surrounded by dozens of castle residents, by people at dinners and in the yards, I felt as if I was the only person left in the entire world. And it was all my fault. I had no one to blame… there was nothing at fault, except for my own selfishness. It made me bitter; I had mistreated Nina in such a way that I hated myself for it.

My thoughts wandered back to Cedric… thought about my recurring dreams of his ashy hair and icy eyes… recurring dreams that twisted into nightmares every night when he turned and left me. I shook my head, biting down hard on my tongue. How had this happened to me? How had he done this to me? Was it magic? Was I bewitched? I growled, climbing off my bed and moving to the window, staring down at the grey path far below. The weather echoed my mood, sleet hammering the earth as grey clouds crept across the canvas of the sky.

No… this was no magic spell… not for the first time I cursed Mīla, goddess of love and protection. Was this her idea of a cruel joke? To toy with my emotions and draw to Cedric? Was there some way I could stop her? Have her cut through all ties between us… set me free? More than once I had stopped outside Cedric’s door, after finding out from Benjon where he was staying, but my last visit had resulted in him shouting at me so much serving staff came running.

No. No. Forget about him. I was the Archer, famed killer of Faeris. And he was a prince of the Fae. He was nothing but an enemy. Something to hate and fear… I would escape… leave him behind and resume the life I had before I had met him. I would forget about him.

But would I?

I didn't want to like him; I wanted to despise him, as I despised other Faeris. And at times I wanted nothing more than to tear through his throat; to kill him, end him, and be rid of him forever. But when those times passed, I couldn’t deny the new fear I now felt at the prospect of losing him.  I sighed, turning back from the window, and paced back and forth in my room, wearing my fighting gear - it was so much more comfortable than those dresses I was both expected and forced to wear. Maybe I should just talk to him… try to fix it? No… I had to get myself unattached. I had to stop feeling. I had to keep my resolve. He was nothing to me. Nothing… nothing at all. But I knew no matter how many times I repeated those words to myself, it wouldn’t change anything. I growled under my breath, feeling restless. I needed to do something… anything.

I walked out of my room, Benjon following behind me, my second shadow. I passed the occasional servant as they hurried to their separate destinations and made my way through the maze of corridors, stairs, rooms and halls until I found myself outside. Rain still poured down, soaking through my gear and plastering my hair to my skin. I didn’t care. I had always liked the rain.

I was near the practice area, I realised, and I began moving to it. I wanted to hit something… needed to. I walked down towards the wooden dummies Endöl had set up for us to use whenever we needed and grabbed a sword from the weapons rack. I was still not used to the heaviness of the steel, and I definitely preferred light weaponry. But I wasn’t focused on technique, only venting my frustration. I approached the dummy and began to tighten my grip on the handle, feeling sweat underneath it. Rain made it slippery, but with my knuckles standing out white like snow, I hefted the sword higher. I tried to picture Cedric’s face on it. He was the enemy. He wasn’t my friend… the enemy… I sliced the sword across tis stomach, watching with satisfaction as the steel slipped through the wood without any trouble. The enemy… another blow, splintering the wood slightly when my grip slipped. A liability … I continued to flay the wood from the dummy, shaving off its features… bits chipped off with every blow until I was standing before a much disfigured chunk of wood.  I sighed, wiping sweat off my forehead, and leaning the sword against the dummy. I felt better, with my pent up frustration finally released, but there was still the lingering feeling of guilt and grief.