Oracles of Ice

Oracles of Ice 5

Aethelfrith staggered into his domicile. His body felt jittery and alive. The song Gaielle had sung over him still rang in his ears. He could almost hear her hauntingly beautiful voice singing it. He knew he had a goofy grin on his face, but he didn't care. The exchange in the pine had lightened his mood, causing him to feel young again. The mood in the room, however, was somber. Anya stood over an open chest, her arms full of clothing. She dropped the items into the chest and moved toward the hallway. Aethelfrith looked down in the chest and noticed it was full of her dresses. A few of Mek's toys and a stack of the boy's trousers were nestled in beside her undergarments. Aethelfrith's heart fell from its reverie into his stomach.

"Anya, what is this?"

Anya didn't reply, and he heard some noise in the other room and went to investigate. She was rifling through the small closet, tossing things to the ground behind herself. Mek sat on the bed, staring down at the small toy horse in his hand, a gift carved for him by the smilt, who mainly worked with iron or stone, but had taken the time to craft the gift as a welcome for Mek. The boy's body language offered little insight into Anya's peculiar behavior.

"What is going on, Anya?" He felt he knew her answer already, but he asked anyway.

"I'm going to stay with my parents. I will take a wagon to Dena. Mek will come with me." Her response was short, her words curt.

"Anya, you can't go. Please, I need you here. What will I do without you?" He stepped toward Mek defensively and laid a hand on the boy's head, not accepting the idea that she would leave him.

"You seem to do a fine job by yourself. I don't think you need me. You spend more time warring and galivanting around the mountains than you do with us, where you should be. Where is your cloak? Your pillow?" She turned and glared at him.

Confused, he shrugged his shoulders. "I...I don't know...? What does that have to do with you leaving? I know we've had our disagreements, but we love each other, Anya. And Mek needs his father." He looked down and smoothed the strawberry blond hair on his son's head.

Anya cockled her lips and tapped her foot. One of Mek's cloaks was draped across her arm, but Aethelfrith could see she had her hands balled into fists. Looking away, she sighed heavily.

"Why would you leave me? I can make your life better here in Warrick than it ever would have been in Eldon. Please don't leave."

"Mommy, I want to stay with Daddy." Mek's eyes were full of tears as he looked up at them. Aethelfrith watched as Anya's expression softened. She turned toward Mek and sighed again.

"Things have to change, Aethel. You have to be home more. The feuding with your brother needs to end. Your son needs you around. I need you around. No more nights sleeping gods only know where."

"If I remember correctly, you sent me away." He wanted to argue, but he also wanted the situation to calm down. She stood straighter and raised her eyebrows. "I'm sorry... You're right. You're always right." The words frustrated her; he could tell by the look on her face.

Shoving his hands into his pockets he looked down, unsure what to even say to her. He knew the past several moons had been difficult. They had spent most of their evenings fighting and disagreeing. He saw the need of the Warrick people and had felt compelled to action. She, on the other hand, saw the same need but had disregarded it. She'd voiced her disgust with "the beasts" of Warrick several times, speaking of them as vile animals, with no compassion in her heart. He wished he could've turned a blind eye as she had, but wars were meant to be fought even if there was no benefit for self. The Warricks needed a deliverer, and he'd been just that. He felt the peace that had fallen over the kingdom should have been proof enough.