Savia's Heart [Sequel to Bastian's Song] [HIATUS]

[ 4 ]

[ Auron ]

The sun rose, coloring the sky with beautiful shades of coral and orange that gave way to a soft blue. Despite the warm light, the morning was a cold one, heralding the arrival of autumn and a quick approaching winter. Auron pondered the weather as he sat vigil outside his home.

Really, his home was Savia's home, and he still felt a little guilty for claiming it as his own, but he had nowhere else to go. She had been his only family for a while now, and he would not be easily parted from her.

He sighed and lifted his hands to his dark locks. Gathering all of his hair up, he tied it off with a cord of leather so it wouldn't get in his face while he went about his work for the morning. Auron stood and stretched out with a satisfied grunt. "Well, the chores won't do themselves," he muttered.

As he worked, scrubbing at the kitchen pots and pans, he sang. He knew the fire that had scarred him had done irreversible damage to his throat, so he was sure he sounded like a red fox in mating season, but he loved the sound of music. Sometimes, when he was especially tired, he would dream that the whole world was made up of notes in one glorious song.

The steady beat of hooves broke into his working rhythm, and he set down the copper pot he'd been cleaning. With a quick wipe of his hands on his pants, Auron headed to the door. Over his time with Savia, he had learned it was best to greet the messengers before they got to the house and made a ruckus.

He slipped outside, careful not to open the door more than he needed to. Even though Savia slept behind a sturdy wooden screen, Auron did not like to chance any of the sunlight getting to her.

"Hail, traveler!" He planted his feet in front of the door and crossed his arms over his chest.

The rider pulled their horse to a stop in front of the hut and dismounted on shaking legs. From the windswept look of him, he'd come a long way. Fatigue had given the messenger dark shadows under his eyes, and his skin was red and peeling around his nose and cheeks. Sunburn, most likely, from many hours spent under the golden light of the sun.

"Hail!" The messenger croaked at him, and Auron did his best not to wince. In his experience, this sort of messenger always came with grave news, and Savia had not fully recovered from her last patient.

"Any chance you're not here for the healer Savia?" Auron asked. He knew the answer already, but sometimes asking yielded different results.

Confusion crossed the messenger's face. "...no? Have I come to the wrong pla—" The question was cut off as the messenger doubled over, a horrendous cough choking him. Even Auron could tell it was the sort that had settled deep into his lungs. A wet, squelching sound brought the messenger to his knees, where he spread his hands on the ground in front of himself and struggled to breathe.

Ragged wheezing filled the air for a tense few seconds that felt like ages. Finally, the messenger looked up, and his face was streaked with tears. When he spoke, his voice was quieter, and filled with a tiredness that made Auron's bones ache. "Have I come to the wrong place then?" Hopelessness fell like a shadow over his face.

Auron's shoulders dropped. For Savia, he would turn the needy masses away, no matter how grim their circumstances or how desperate their pleas. For her sake, he knew he could not. She would never forgive him for it. It was not in her to cast any other person to their cruel fate. "Come in, traveler. I'll make you some tea. It will be best if you are rested when she wakes."

Auron offered his arm to the felled messenger and hauled him to his unsteady feet. With great care, he maneuvered the sick man inside, and deposited him by the empty fire pit.

Now he set to work, lighting a fire and boiling water. He selected a tonic with care, and added it to the murky tea water when it was done brewing. It was not much, in the way of things, but it soothed the wheezing of the messenger long enough that he could sleep a short time.

While their guest slept, Auron set dinner over the fire. He packed two large travel packs with spare bandages and common herbs and dried fish for himself to eat. The rest of the herbs would have to wait for Savia. She would hear out the sick man, and then she would choose what to bring with her.

He glanced toward the screen that hid Savia from the world. He could not hear her breath, but then she did not need to breathe. She had told him, once, that she no longer had a heart beat. Auron knew, though, that she still had a heart.

She had more heart than anyone he had ever known. He knew that deep inside himself, even if he did not remember where he came from. Auron busied himself until the sun set, and Savia stirred.

She rubbed her eyes as she came around the screen, dressed in her night dress. Her dark brown hair fell in smooth waves around her shoulders, the deep red tones highlighting the brown warmth of her skin. When she spotted the man asleep by the fire, she gave Auron a questioning look. 

He shrugged and offered her the special blend of tea that she brewed only for herself. Dark red water swirled in the delicate cup, the surface broken by a leaf now and then. Savia drank the whole thing in one, fluid motion. When she pulled the cup away, her lips were stained with the burgundy color.

She handed the cup back to him and moved to the travelers side, where her hands fluttered over his throat and his forehead. Savia's eyes stared at something Auron could not see, and then her brows drew together. A small wrinkle settled between them on her forehead.

The worry wrinkle.

Auron sighed. "Any chance it's something you can just cure with a few herbs?"

She turned to him, and her eyes refocused. Savia smiled. Auron frowned.

"One of these days, Savia, someone is going to take advantage of your kindness."

She walked to him, her feet silent over the hard packed earth of the hut ground. "That's why I have fangs, dear Auron."

"You do not." He pouted.

She laughed. "Alright, I don't. But you speak like I'm some creature made of glass who will shatter when glanced at."

"I've seen what happens when the sunlight touches you."

"You worry too much."

He watched her as she placed a hand in his hair and ruffled it. She stopped when the traveler stirred in his sleep, roused by a cough that shattered the comfortable quiet in the air.

No, Auron thought as he watched her turn back to the messenger, I worry just enough. 

I dunno you guys. Is Auron a worrywart? Or is he the only one with some common sense round these parts?

I do hope you're getting the feeling that Savia can take care of herself, despite Auron's hovering. He's just lucky he doesn't have kids, or his whole life would be spent helicoptering around them. And those don't even exist in his world. They'd invent the word just for him! >.<

Thank you again for reading. Looking forward to next week's chapter!