Infirmitate

EIGHT | King's Tomb

Third Person POV

"I'm taking a great risk by meeting you out here in the open, soldier." Borac grinds his teeth as a sudden gust of winter wind blows back the hood of his cloak-not that he notices the cold.

As he readjusts his hood, the young soldier shivers nervously as they stand behind Borac's small hut near the border of the Fortitudine Clan. "A messenger was sent to the edge of the woods." The soldier states as he tries to rub the approaching numbness from his fingertips.

"A messenger from whom?" Borac's patience is wearing thin while residing in the small Clan. "From the Head Elder, Alexandra Ramsay. The messenger came with a request for her to meet with you tomorrow morning in the king's tomb under the white flag agreement."

The young man hesitates at the sight of his leader's hardened features. "No one is allowed within one hundred yards of the cave, Master Borac." He lowers his voice at the sight of a nearby guard making his rounds.

"That is a very high risk they are taking." Borac finally speaks. "You know for certain that the Head Elder will be one to discuss the matters?" The agent nods his head. "Yes, sir."

Borac takes a deep breath while he stares over the agent's shoulder towards the woods in thought. "Let's do it." The agent's eyes go wide. "Really, Master Borac? You'd be risking your life and your cover."

If it weren't for the nearby patrols, Borac would've barked a laugh at the man's surprise. "I will be risking nothing but my time. Their leader is not but seventeen years old. I think I'll be just fine. Besides," Borac tightens the cloak around him as he prepares to go back inside his hut.

"Under the white flag agreement-and especially while inside the king's tomb-there is no violence allowed." Without another word, Borac turns around and walks back inside, leaving the agent to find his way back to camp.

"How am I to cover for you during your absence?" Aron walks up to Borac while he his removing his cloak and hands him a warm cup of tea. "You were listening?" He doesn't wait for a reply. "Say I came up with a headache and wish to be left alone."

Aron nods his head. "Yes sir. Do you want me to strike while you are gone?" Borac shakes his head as he begins to walk to his bedroom. "Let's give them a moment of peace. We'll be under the white flag agreement so that will require us to appease the law, at least for now."

"Yes, sir." Aron hesitates for a moment before walking to his own bedroom and closing the door. Borac watches his every move with calculating eyes. He knows Aron's potion is beginning to wear off.

He closes his eyes and focuses on the pale, raven-haired Magic. "Kala, come to me." He whispers under his breath. A small gust of wind alerts him of her presence. He opens his eyes to see Kala closing his door silently.

"Why am I here, Novak?" Her violet eyes flash with guarded intrigue whereas Borac's shine with anger and hatred. "Do not call me that." He growls as he stands up threateningly.

"You have no control over me, boy." She walks up to him and stares him in the eyes. "You won't touch me." She sneers up at him darkly.   Borac fights for control over his actions and emotions.

As if a switch goes off in his mind, he relaxes and smirks back. "I used your father's Magic on Aron." Her posture goes still and her eyes quickly turn to fury. "You did what?" She growls the words through her teeth as she takes another step forward.

"Why is his magic wearing off? It is supposed to last a lifetime." He ignores her question and continues. Her features soften and, for the first time since her father was murdered, her cruel facade cracks. She shakes her head and stumbles backwards.