Tragic Innocence

Chapter 39: Legend Told

            It had been several days since Crow had last spoken with Pentulla regarding her revelations.  She shivered as it turned her cold almost too suddenly.  Revelations.  She allowed the dreaded word to mull around her mind before she consciously shoved it aside.

            She had felt apprehensive around him because he now knew something of her that she did not know and it overwhelmed her to carry around this fearful burden.  Now, she thought with the same cold fear that always gripped her when she allowed her thoughts to stray in that direction, it is finally time that I should speak with him about my past.

            She set out in search for him first thing after cleansing her hands and face from the washstand in her bedchamber.  A warm breeze tickled around her ankles as it sent her lengthy gown fluttering lightly behind her wake.  Once finding him behind his home chopping wood, she lowered herself upon her heels and watched him there in silence.  She argued with herself whether or not she should announce her desire to learn what he knew.

            Crow raised the axe far over his head and focused his energy upon the piece of log that stood upright, ready to be split in half.  The heat of the Enon pressed mercilessly upon the top of his head as sweat drenched the band he had tied around his forehead to prevent its descent into his eyes.  His arms and back strained with searing pangs of pain, but he avidly ignored the aching.           It was not usual for him to perform such arduous labor, but something dark had been haunting his thoughts of the late.  He had been very keen to Pentulla’s needs and fully aware of her presence as he had insisted that she remain in his bedchamber for the following nights despite the fact that he had offered that he would be reside in the adjacent bedchamber meanwhile.  She was accommodating at first, but then insisted that she would do well on her own back up in the tower.  Crow had been uneasy with her decision, but had allowed it nonetheless.

            Pentulla seemed happy, though Crow had been fully aware of the haunting shadows within the recess of her eyes.  He oft felt her gaze upon him as he had moved about his home, as if she longed to speak to him about something urgent.  However, when the time seemed appropriate for such discussion, she would retreat into the shell that she had formed around herself not too long ago.

            Crow frowned, watching the axe cleanly sever the log in two.  The pieces fell thither and he quickly retrieved a fresh log to chop.  Pentulla had definitely grown distant and he felt ostracized by her withdrawal.  A presence then pounced upon him unexpectedly as Crow paused with the axe far overhead.  It felt warm and inviting and yet, filled with worry and deep sadness.  Crow embedded the axe into the log and quickly turned his head and found Pentulla rising from the thick shrubbery that encircled his home.

            “I wanted to speak with you, Crow…” her voice was timid and faltering.  Her eyes flickered against the bright Enonshine, but she did not bother to ward off its brilliance.

            Crow admired her courage and façade.  She was so fragile in appearance, a severe contrast of her true spirit.  His smile reflected the feelings of his heart as he removed the band from his forehead and dried off his neck and shoulders.

            Pentulla, in spite of the warmth of the day, still felt cold.  His smile truly touched her heart and she was thusly comforted.  She smiled in return.

            “How long were you here, watching me?”  His teeth were white against his Enon-kissed skin.

            Pentulla blushed furiously, but she did not break the line their connecting eyes.  “Long enough to understand that something troubles you.”