Melody of Blood and Night

Twenty-Two

Subtle, languid flames of his torch flickered in the gentle breeze as the jagged entrance of the cavern yawned wider to engulf him, a dark aperture to swallow him whole. His only defence against the blackness threatening to pull him into its embrace was the waning moonlight and the flambeau he held in his hand.

Caelan glanced over his shoulder, to the fire that blazed under the velvet sky, speckled with a million stars. The moon basked in her full glory, silver orb of brilliant diamond light that painted everything its fingers could caress, in a romantic hue.

But as they say, a man’s perception of the world around him changes with his heart’s temperament. And he was no exception.

For some reason, unbeknownst to him, Caelan found the moon’s silvery light as glaring as the summer’s mid-day sun. The twinkling luminosities so much like blemishes on a velvet gown. The forest surrounding him seemed to want to pull him into its dark tangles. And his thoughts were plagued by doubt and concern, but they all returned to one common point. Her.

He wondered if she loved him to the same extent as he did. Secrets had come to light. Truths, obscured by the dark shadow of lies and it all revolved around her. And the two Royals they had so graciously taken under their protection. He sighed, turning his gaze to the ground before stepping into the cave.

He had sniffed the clothing on his body, and had vowed to look for a brook, first thing in the morning, no matter what. But for now, he would have to make do with a clean shirt which he was currently in the process of retrieving from the rest of their luggage, propped against the walls of the cave.

He was determined to not look in the direction from which arose almost inconspicuous sounds of breathing, the only indication of the fact that someone was sitting there. But his curiosity triumphed over his half-hearted will, and he stole a glance towards the boy-Prince.

Caelan had done his best to ignore his presence, extracting his clothing with forced indifference. And yet, he couldn’t block out the boy’s heavy sighs. They sounded more like pained whimpers of a dying Nefasa than anything else.

He sighed, knowing that his conscience had won before advancing towards him, a shadow beginning to take the shape of a boy under the light of the flickering blaze of his flambeau.

The Prince lifted his head, swivelling around, regarding him with a wide-eyed stare. A shred of empathy weaved itself into Caelan’s heart as he witnessed the hope wither out from within his emerald green eyes, crestfallen. In the fraction of a second, they had transformed from a verdant plain to a barren wasteland of crushed expectations.

“I…I just wanted to let you know that the beddings have been prepared.” He explained, looking away.

“Oh. Alright then, thank you.”

Caelan stood there for a moment before turning around to leave.

“You all think I’m the bad guy, don’t you?” Kaius’ voice echoed through the cavern, bringing him to a halt.

Caelan glanced over his shoulder, to see the Prince's back turned to him as he spoke again, “I had to do it. It was the only way I could rectify my mistake.”

Caelan wasn’t sure what the boy-Prince was talking about, though he was probably referring to Kaius trying to murder Zaivian, but he knew better than to ask. And taking the boy’s deplorable condition in consideration, he knew that the best thing Caelan could do was to lend the boy-Prince an ear.

“I was young and foolish. Falling for her words.” Kaius scoffed as he turned around, sitting with his face towards Caelan, who had done the same. “I was but a sixteen-year-old numbskull, when I had first laid eyes on her, twelve moons ago. She had just turned eighteen.”