Without Words, Without Sight

15: Determination

Nyx stared at his own reflection in the polished wooden mirror that was his desk. He really looked grim. Much too bitter for someone who had just found the love of their life. He rubbed his forehead.

No, that wasn't it. In fact, he just hated being alone with himself. Alone with his thoughts. Especially in this room.

His father's scent, his aura and memory were still present here, as if he had just gone out for a bit, to scold the treasurer as he had done so often. How he missed this.

Nyx knew he wasn't being quite fair, what had happened was not Aren's fault. A seer's responsibility was to provide knowledge of what would inevitably happen, to help the rulers settle affairs and prepare themselves in time, but without being able to prevent it in any way. Nyx was not ignorant of this fact. What had offended him was this utter lack of compassion, that Aren...! Then again, who was he blaming, he himself wasn't allowed to show his pain as well. Even still, he could not get rid of these lingering feelings of darkness and betrayal. They only ever faded when Iris was near, as if her hands had the power to relieve the weight that burdened his soul.

Nyx found the shadows around his eyes brighten up a bit at the thought of her. Never would he have believed himself to be capable of feeling so much for someone, or to actually find love in this society of combat and relentless competition, at that. Of course, he wanted to protect and provide her with any means that would enable her to also fend for herself. To think what Aren's offer must mean to her! She had been promised a way to see again! How could he bar her from this opportunity? Unlike his reputation, he was by far not capable of such cruelty.

He rose from his chair and walked up to the windows, arms loosely crossed behind his back. Night had now firmly settled on the land that stretched out before him. His chambers as his study were situated at the top of two of the highest towers in the castle. At the centre of the extensive structure, they could not be attacked from any side and no projectile could reach them. Open attacks on the castle itself had not happened in centuries, anyway.

Overhead the stars were shimmering, not a single cloud veiled their blueish light. The moon was still out of sight, and apart from the torches that emitted a much warmer light in the streets far, far below, the darkness was perfect. The midnight curfew was approaching and not a soul was to be seen.

Nyx let his gaze wander through the room again. The dying embers of a fire were cracking behind the grate. The large desk faced the high gate on the opposite side of the long room, between them an ocean of dark red and royal blue waves of cloth and carpet, imbued by golden streaks. From the walls hung the flags of the allied nations as well as generously embroidered tapestry. The ceiling had always been his favourite: It was entirely painted in a flamboyant royal blue, adorned with countless golden stars. Every single luminary had been carefully arranged to resemble the night sky of the day when the first King had been crowned after a fight with their brother that had lasted three days, as legend had it. As a boy he had loved to lie down on the carpets and stare at them. When he had grown older and had to stand by his father's side all day, to study the business of the stately affairs, his thoughts would still trail off sometimes and he would secretly catch glimpses of the changes in the hues of the colours that the endless hours of the day brought about.

Now, it was his turn to rule, and time to lift his gaze and dream for a while had become more than scarce.

And beside the everyday affairs of state, there were also wedding preparations to be made. Nyx covered his mouth with his right hand.
This idiotic smile had returned to his face.

He felt so incredibly happy.

He died to see her in that dress.

He would have killed for this future to arrive just one day earlier.