OathBlade (Wattys2015)

39. Released*

Isandel's face greeted Elery as she woke. The sun peeked through the window to sting her eyes. He leaned further and shielded her from the light. "The general requests your presence."

She sat up and pushed him away with a hand against his chest. Cylphi remained asleep beside her, her mouth slightly parted and rosy lips twitching with each breath. Elery shifted with care, making every attempt not to wake her. Isandel took her hand and pulled to help her up.

Soft twitters outside the window announced the arrival of several young deltresses. Their silver-feathered wings twitched and flicked as they landed on the sill.

Cylphi murmured in her sleep and turned her back to the window. Though Elery knew she should wake her to go, she couldn't bring herself to it. Instead she walked toward the door, releasing Isandel's hand after a few paces when she realized she still held it.

She shed her clothing and knelt beside the sack of supplies lying buried under her armor. As her hands dipped in to remove a new set of clothing, Isandel's fingers brushed delicately over the still-visible bite mark he'd left between neck and shoulder. The unexpected touch caused her hand to raise defensively and she swatted his arm.

"Just checking that it has healed, Princess," he said with a chuckle.

"Check with your eyes." She glanced to the bite herself, though was only able to see the most extreme edge of it past her cheek. She walked to the small wall-mounted mirror and tilted her head, exposing the mark. Each puncture was still clearly visible and the skin was pink. "It will never fully heal."

"Of course not. That is not how dragon marks work." He sat in the chair and thumped his tail to the floor. "That mark binds you to me so that no other dragon may take you."

She frowned. "I've told you, I am not property."

"Of course not, Princess," he cooed. "That is not the sort of 'take' I am implying."

Blood surged to her face and she knitted her delicate brows. "As if I would allow it," she said as she dressed. "You take me for some bar wench?"

"I take you for a woman who has desires, though she hides them well. There will come a day you want comfort—something more than a simple shoulder to lean against." He tilted his head and his eyes shone bright in the sun. "So have you given thought to that lie bound around your wrist?"

She began equipping her armor, giving only a moment's glance at the black coil. She hadn't allowed herself to dwell on it. The more she pondered the thought of removing it, the more she realized she had no right to keep it. She fastened the straps of her leg armor, remaining silent all the while. Was there a reason to keep it?

Is there a reason he wants it gone?

Her hands stopped at this thought. "Just what is so important about removing it? My aura shines now. This mark is not a hindrance."

"I've never understood the seryn fascination with shackling themselves to the dead. You burn the bodies yet you trap their aura."

She stood. "What?"

"Did you think it possible to feel what your partner feels without binding your aura together? Whether it shone or not at the time, your aura existed." He grasped her wrist and pulled to hold it up at eye-level. "That is the power of the Aldramel: to wind the aura of two beings. That bond does not end at death. You carry a toxic fragment of that death within you." He leaned closer. "Who do you think the candidates for necrocasters are, Princess?"

Her eyes widened as the moisture fled her lips. "B-but the Duke—"

"I'm sure she called to him after the death of his beloved, yet he remains untouched. Unfortunately not all are as strong."