Elven Legacy

Chapter 20

Kitera

The town of Oakley, in South-East Fellera, reminded Kitera of her hometown, Quickrivers. A small town of mostly farmers, with a lively central market. The common room of their inn, The Marauder's Bed, was still full of excited chatter even as the hour approached midnight.

But to be fair, that was because Jaden was here.

They'd tried to be discreet, but by now Jaden's royal portrait had traveled and was being sold to the farthest reaches of Fellera. And there weren't a whole lot of other people who looked like Jaden.

The innkeeper and his wife, as well as a dozen local patrons, were seated at a long table between the wooden staircase and the hearth. They were telling Jaden how the Ownership of Land project had changed their lives here in Oakley.

Earlier, Kitera had changed from her uniform and into the only dress she'd packed, a violet one with ivory laces for the corset, and slashed in ivory, also, along the skirt. The garment had long sleeves and a collar that was wide open from shoulder to shoulder, and across the top of her back.

Beside her, the window was closed, but there were cracks and the cold night wind seeped in regardless; the culprit for the goose bumps that prickled her skin.

Kitera's table was unarguably the quietest, most awkward one of the inn's common room. Moira had already gone to bed, in the room she shared with Jaden. So now, that left only Dharkan and Tessa with Kitera.

Dharkan gulped down ale after ale, and after a few lame attempts at conversation, he'd given up and just brooded. Tessa – cloak's hood creepily drawn over the side of her marked face – sipped her mug of apple cider, frequently glancing over at her brother.

Kitera sighed. Sharing a table with pots of plants would've made for better company.

Reaching inside her bag, Kitera's hand snaked past some of the mess in there – sleeping clothes, sheathed knife, jar with her hair oil, vial of saltwater for her piercings – and found what she was looking for. Curling her fingers around the tightly-bound scroll, she carefully pulled it out.

The air around her already held this heady mix of pipe smoke, ale, Tessa's flowery perfume, and burning logs from the hearth. Now, as she unfurled the scroll on the weathered wood table before her, the musty scent of old parchment tickled her nostrils.

This was her dead father's memoirs.

Well, a part of it anyway, among many others. Kitera had brought this particular entry because of its title and subject. The Chyulin Academy. And the date read, Year 937 of the Felleran Calendar.

Ninety-one years ago. Mikael T'Sherazee had been seventeen years old then. Son of the Nimisian Imperial Consul and an Azurian woman of noble birth. This was back when Mikael still lived in Azuria, was still best friends with the young heir to the empire at the time, Emperor Dylani.

Kitera held her breath as she let her dark-skinned fingers trace down the yellowing page, admiring the elegant handwriting.

Sometimes, she still had trouble coming to terms with the fact that her father was really gone. That they'd never get to talk about the rich, eventful life he'd kept secret from his children. For starters, thanks to his demon's magic, he hadn't even appeared to be past his fiftieth year.

There's no way you could've known, she reasoned with herself, as she often did these days whenever she missed her parents – whenever she pondered what she could've done differently. All the questions she could've asked.