The Keepers of Eternity

XVIII

Abreigelle sat in the dark, watching her captor's chest rise and fall. The dim yellow light from the dying fire was enough to illuminate Blaise's sleeping, vulnerable form.

It would be so easy to slip away, or to jab a stick into his eye, yet, she knew she couldn't. There was a reason why he was a legend, and Abreigelle had no intention of seeing what hidden abilities the man possessed. He had four thousand years to learn, to travel the world, and to fight, while she had been sheltered in the same plot of land for almost her entire existence.

The man before her, however, didn't seem to be half an eon old. He was the same height as she was, with pointed features, and a sometimes a very immature attitude. Abreigelle had assumed that age brought wisdom and maturity, but after seeing this man, she wasn't so sure. Perhaps his unusual behavior had something to do with his disc.

Abreigelle rested her chin on her knees, hugging her legs close. Learning from him was her only option, and her only way to return home. That was, if there was any life left for her back in Shah Neurn. It was her mother, and Lenore, who she worried about, and it pained her just thinking about what they must be feeling.

The yellow scarf that Lenore had given her was still tied around her waist. Abreigelle held the soft fabric in her hands from time to time when she felt the most alone. It was the only thing she had left from home.

I'll come back. She promised herself. I'll learn from Blaise, and I'll fight as hard as I can until we win. I won't give up. I will go out kicking and screaming if I have to.

She felt her eyes burn, and then a hot tear run down her cheek. I don't want to die. Please. She begged any higher power who was listening.

Sleep. She had to sleep. Abreigelle took three deep breaths, and then lay down on her blanket, forcing herself to relax the way she always did. Relaxation had always been difficult.

It could be worse. At least I'm not sleeping in that stupid barrel. Or leashed like some animal. She was still bitter about that.

When morning light threatened to wake her from her dreams, Abreigelle rolled over and covered her face with her blanket. Her tent was small, which made it difficult to move in. She supposed it would be better just to get up for good this time. After all, there was always breakfast to look forward to.

Blaise made breakfast, and for some reason, he would not let her help in any way with the food, much less touch it before he was finished. Every time he saw her hand drifting towards the simmering bacon, Blaise would swat at her hands and scold her like she was some sort of child. And, he kept an unusually keen watch over his wooden kitchen utensils and box of spices, as if he were some sort of professional cook. Abreigelle would have never guessed that this man was so picky about something as simple as breakfast.

The food was good, Abreigelle couldn't deny that. She ate quickly before Blaise hitched up the team of horses and packed up the camp. He began muttering out meeting a deadline as he helped her into her seat and they were on their way. This time, much Abreigelle's relief, she sat in in the front of the wagon.

Even just a three day's ride out of Shah Neurn, the strong scent of evergreen rode on the cool northern wind, drowning out any hint of warm, reeking mud or stinky excrements that often appeared on country roads. The smell was different than that of the manse, for out here, it smelled wild. It was the kind of smell that let you understand the world without needing to open your eyes.

Abreigelle was amazed by this wilderness, that it could be so close to her home. All her life, she'd wanted to see mountains. From the looks of the road beyond, and from the growing chilliness in the air, she supposed she finally would.