Kastali Dun

Claire returned to her chambers directly after her walk with Talon. There, she found Desaree and Saffra waiting in her sitting area. She smiled to herself. It was nice having friends to come home to, not that this felt like home yet. Desaree jumped up to fuss over her, taking her shawl and hanging it up. She took a seat beside Saffra and they exchanged smiles.

"It looks as if your walk did you good," Desaree called from the wardrobe. The smugness that carried in her voice reminded Claire that her handmaiden's advice ought to be heeded more often. "Oh, and did you see the guards in the corridor?" Desaree asked, rejoining them a minute later with a tray of cups and a pitcher of water.

"I did see them. I hope they won't be too much of a bother. King Talon gave me no choice." She shrugged, but not because she was annoyed by the addition. It was a shrug of acceptance because she finally understood the threat Kane posed. Her life was in danger, and Kane wasn't messing around. She had been careless—but not anymore. At this point, she was genuinely glad to have extra protection.

"I am glad of it," Desaree said, as if reading her mind.

"I am too," she admitted. It felt good saying it out loud.

Desaree's eyes widened sarcastically. "Gods be good, Claire, you mean to say that you did not argue with him about it?" She said this with a knowing smirk before adding, "And how did your walk go?"

Claire laughed and then grew contemplative. "You know, I'm surprised to admit it, but it went well..." She turned her attention to a stray thread coming undone on the upholstery of the sofa arm.

"Well?! Are we going to have to drag details out of you?" Desaree's face was full of curiosity.

Claire couldn't help but grin. She thought about how best to sum up her time with Talon. At last she said, "Talon and I have turned over a new leaf in our relationship. We have had a fresh start, so to speak."

"Lady Claire, my patience wears thin!" Desaree gave her a sharp look.

"Oh, all right, all right." Claire held up her hands and laughed. Then she relayed every detail of her walk to Desaree and Saffra.

Her listeners listened eagerly as she told them about the various conversations she and Talon had shared. Both Desaree and Saffra liked the idea of Claire receiving extra training, and especially the fact that she was going to get Cyrus's sword.

"That must have been extremely hard for him to part with," Saffra said, with obvious surprise. "He loved Cyrus."

"I know, right? He didn't even argue when I asked."

Desaree and Saffra were less impressed when they heard about King Talon's reaction to Claire's Sprite theories. "The signs are all there," Saffra argued. "If he refuses to admit that, if he refuses to acknowledge you have Sprite blood, then he is in denial."

"The truth is often hard to handle," Desaree said in defense of the king. Claire and Saffra both agreed, but that didn't make them any happier about it.

It wasn't until Claire talked about King Talon's various displays of emotion that her audience became especially receptive. She lingered over little details like the way Talon's face lit up when she offered to share her theories, or of how he sometimes made a point to reclaim her arm after they stopped walking. Her favorite mannerism had been the way his mouth twitched when he wanted to smile, and he had certainly smiled more than once. She considered that a win. "I think he finds me funny, but in a good way. I even made him laugh."

"Laughing is good," Saffra said. As she said it, her face fell into a frown. She suddenly looked quite sad. "I wish I could bring myself to laugh, but my heart weeps."

Claire's happiness fled. How silly of her to fixate so heavily, and in such great detail, on her happy time with Talon when her friend was still hurting. She felt a little ashamed and asked, "Has there been any progress with Dax?"

Saffra shook her head, her face full of angst. "I tried everything," she whispered. "What more can I do? Marcel insists on keeping him under a watchful eye."

"Wouldn't he be better retracing his old steps?" Claire asked. "You know, going back to training new recruits and all that?"

"We do not trust him to take up his old position. More than that, Marcel distrusts him for other reasons."

"It's...it's that bad? What other reasons?" Claire felt her heart break a little each time she looked at Saffra's bleak expression.

"It is bad," Saffra confirmed. "Marcel looked through past records to see if this is normal. Apparently poison can do this to a person if it is dark enough. However, Marcel said that Dax is showing similar symptoms as the Nasks when Kane infiltrated their minds and then left them empty shells."

Claire's mouth fell open. It was impossible. "Cyrus would have known," she said. "There were only two Nasks. He would have known..." It seemed too unlikely, though Claire had no proof that she was correct. "Look, Vodar poison is dark enough. If anyone should know, it's me." Without realizing it, her hand had gone to her leg where the Vodar blade had sliced her skin. Beneath the fabric of her gown, all that remained was a thin line the length of the old wound.

"Dax almost died," Saffra said. "Humans do not come back from something like that unharmed."

At this, Claire fell silent. Desaree picked up the slack in the conversation. "What can we do to help, Saffra? Surely there is something. What if we go to him every day and help him understand who he is supposed to be?"

Claire nodded, eagerly supporting the idea. "I am willing to do it too—whatever you need. You can win his love back—I know you can."

Saffra's eyes filled with tears. "You both speak of telling him who to be and winning back his heart. You cannot tell a person who they must be. They must feel it themselves. I fear I will never be lucky enough to win his love a second time."

"But you can!" Claire cried.

"She is right," Desaree said. "You can win him back."

Perhaps Saffra merely needed to hear encouragement because after a few minutes of it, it appeared to work. "I suppose it is worth a try," she admitted. "I cannot give up on him entirely. I will not."

"We will do whatever it takes to help you, Saffra. You know that." Claire leaned over and gave her a reassuring hug.

For the rest of the afternoon, they discussed ways to help Dax. Desaree was the romantic one. She insisted Saffra take him out on walks and spend time with him. Claire was more practical, suggesting they take him to all the places that might jog his memory.

Just before dinner, a knock sounded at the door. They were so intent on coming up with ideas to help Dax, that all three of them jumped at the sound. Before they had the chance to respond, the door opened and one of the guards popped his head in. "Delivery for Lady Claire," he said.

Claire's jaw dropped at the guard's audacity. "Thank the gods we weren't dressing or something!" she said. She turned to Desaree and Saffra. "I have a feeling my privacy days are over."

"Allow me," Desaree said, rushing over to the guard. She took the large box from him and her eyes grew wide. "It's so heavy."

"It must be Cyrus's sword," Saffra said, showing clear excitement over the idea. "The king obviously wasted no time delivering it."

"There is also a message," the guard said, his head still in the doorway. "Lady Claire."

Claire went straight to him and took the letter. He bowed then retreated, shutting the door behind him. She looked from the folded parchment in her hands, to the suspiciously large box. Saffra was probably right.

"Open the letter first," Desaree said, failing to disguise her excitement. "It must be from King Talon."

"It is," Claire said as she broke Talon's seal. She read through the contents of the note. It was brief, but by the end, she found herself smiling.

"Oh, it must be good," Desaree whispered to Saffra, clapping her hands together while they waited. The letter read:

Dear Lady Claire,

As I write this, I find my mood is still heightened from our walk together. True to my word, I respect your request regarding Cyrus's sword. You will see that I have sent it along. I only request that you care for it well.

As for your request to begin training: I admire your perseverance and determination. I may not have said that earlier. Ink, parchment, and quill make a person bold. I would hate to be the warrior opposite your blade.

I relayed your request for training to my Shields. As you can imagine, they were eager to assist. Jovari and Koldis claimed the right to your education—something about knowing you better than the others—they were adamant. I hope you believe me when I say, you are in capable hands. You begin at dawn tomorrow, and please attend your regular lessons afterward. I do not have the patience to deal with a certain Mage's complaints in lieu of your absence (you know who).

That is all for now. Please keep your word regarding dinner tonight. I am looking forward to your presence in my hall.

Yours truly,

King Talon

Talon could have easily relayed all of this telepathically, but instead he chose to write her a letter. The gesture flattered her immensely. It also made sense. If he struggled to talk to her, and letters made him bolder, perhaps this was the best way he knew. She folded the note and tucked it into her skirt pocket.

"Well? What did it say?" Desaree and Saffra gazed at Claire impatiently.

She grinned back at them. "King Talon says that I am to begin my training tomorrow morning. I need to be at the practice field at dawn." Giddiness stole over her. She glanced at her entry table where the large box sat.

Saffra stood beside it and ran her hand over it. "Shall we open it?"

"I..." Claire shook her head. "I don't think we should. Not right now." The truth was, she simply didn't have the heart to—not yet.

Desaree and Saffra had not expected her response. Their faces fell, but they accepted her decision. Shortly thereafter, they walked down to dinner together. It was while they were walking that Desaree broke the silence and said, quite casually, "Verath and I have decided to open an investigation against Lady Caterina tomorrow."

The unexpected surprise caused their little group to stop. The soldiers who tailed them followed suit, lurking a short distance behind. "What do you mean by investigation?" Claire asked. "And why didn't you say something earlier?"

Desaree looked apologetic. "The two of you have so much going on—important matters of your own. I did not wish to intrude."

Claire frowned. "You are as much a part of this group as any of us. Saffra and I do not deserve more attention than you. Des, what's going on?"

"Verath wishes for me to reclaim my title of Lady. You both know the story of how my mother died. Verath swears that it is suspicious—"

"So do I," Claire and Saffra said at the same time before nodding in agreement.

"To prove that the Rosens stole my title, an investigation must be conducted. In order for that to happen, I must petition the king."

"What does that entail?" Claire knew nothing about petitions.

"It means she will have to go before the court and make a request," Saffra said.

The three girls were still standing in the corridor. They resumed their walk and continued the discussion. By the time they reached the dining hall, it was decided that Claire would stand beside Desaree in court. As Desaree was her handmaiden, Claire felt responsible for her even though Desaree insisted it was the other way around. Saffra would be there too, but not beside them. She would sit on the council.

"And it's imperative that you do this tomorrow?" Claire asked, surprised by the last-minute aspect of it. "Don't you need more time to prepare?"

"I am as prepared as I will ever be. The king is leaving in two days. I must do this tomorrow, or we will have to wait. Verath wishes to begin the investigation while the king is away."

"If you must do it, then you're not doing it alone." Claire was adamant about that.

When they took their seats in the dining hall, having chosen their usual vantage point, Claire glanced up at the head table. Reyr was caught up in conversation with Bedelth, and try as she might, she failed to catch his eye. It bothered her that he had not stopped by since her kidnapping. Even now, she got the impression that he was avoiding her. She did catch Talon's eye though, and when she did, she gave him a small smile. He bowed his head in her direction and then returned to his conversation with Verath. She reached into her pocket and felt his note. An idea took hold of her, which left her eager to return to her quarters.

Dinner was an odd affair that night. The patrons at her table—after awkwardly bringing up her kidnapping—got chewed out by Desaree, who was beginning to show signs of nervousness. No one could blame her. After all, who wanted to go before the king in his hall under any circumstances? Saffra, on the other hand, was awfully quiet—she seemed only half present. Her mind was, no doubt, running through terrible scenarios of what might happen if Dax never got his memory back.

When the evening ended, Desaree and Saffra insisted on retiring early. Claire bid them goodnight, giving each a fierce hug. She also had an early morning, but instead of going to bed, she went to her writing desk. She sat there for a few minutes, preparing her writing supplies while silently gathering her thoughts.

When she was ready, she took a deep breath and reached for her quill. After rolling it over in her fingers and adjusting it awkwardly several times, she dipped it into the ink pot. It had taken some getting used to, but she had greatly improved her penmanship since practicing. Her cursive was nowhere near as pretty as Talon's. It almost annoyed her that this was the case, but she decided to put her pride aside. On a sheet of parchment, she wrote:

Dear King Talon,

Thank you for your letter. I have not unboxed Cyrus's Sverak. I think I lack courage for it (at the moment).

I admit that I am eager for my lesson tomorrow and will arrive promptly at dawn. Desaree isn't happy about that, by the way. She says it's a grand task getting me out of bed in the morning.

I know you told me to attend my lessons as usual tomorrow. I would like to inform you that I have decided to miss a portion of them—just in the morning. No fear in that respect, of any specific instructors coming after you. I hope you will not be upset with me, but there is something important I must do. My honor depends on it. That is something you can understand, yes?

Sincerely,

Claire

p.s. You do not need to bother with the title of Lady when you write me letters.

When she finished, she smirked at the last part, recalling the time Talon had scolded her for using his name without his proper title. It had made her furious at the time. Now she considered it funny.

After the ink dried, her letter was ready. Holding a stick of solid wax over a nearby candle flame, she got it hot enough to drip onto the parchment. Then she pressed her seal into it, leaving her mark behind and effectively sealing the note. The seal was nearly the same as Talon's, with an outline of his dragonhead sigil around her initials.

She gave the note to one of her guards to be delivered down the hall. There! Only part of the day had passed with her new guards and she was already finding them useful in more ways than one. They weren't just good for protection after all.

When she tried to sleep, she tossed and turned. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Tark's nasty face and Ben grabbing at her. She couldn't bear to relive her time in the cellar.

After growing frustrated, she lit a candle and got up. The fire was dying, so she threw a log on and took a seat with a glass of wine; perhaps the wine would help her sleep better.

All too soon, she grew fidgety. "Oh, it's no use," she muttered to herself. She went to her chamber door and popped her head out. "Micah?" She addressed the guard on the left. "Have any notes arrived from the king?"

"None, my lady. Have you need of him? Shall I send for him?"

"No, no. Of course not." She hesitated for a moment before adding, "If he sends a message, please slip it under my door."

"Of course, my lady."

She nodded and closed the door, returning to the sofa and her glass of wine. Fortunately, she hadn't long to wait. Less than an hour later, a note slid under her door.

"About damn time," she muttered, much happier than her complaint made her sound. She took the letter from the floor. At her desk, she opened it:

Dear Claire,

Thank you for returning my letter. I admit it was a pleasant surprise. Pardon the delay in my response. I received word of a pirate attack in the Scattered Islands. It has altogether spoiled my evening. I wanted to settle my nerves before writing to you.

Regarding Cyrus's Sverak—courage will come in time. Have patience. You do not need to practice with it tomorrow. Your trainers would never allow it. And that reminds me, if waking you up is as challenging as Desaree claims, perhaps you ought to go to bed now. Your sleep is important.

Finally, you asked if I am angry with you for being honorable. How could I be? This important deed you speak of—I would say: do not abandon your honor. I would not have that from you. However, I can see that you are hiding something from me. Will you not tell me? Do I not have your confidence? You told me today that I did. More than that, you have made me curious.

Yours truly,

Talon

p.s. You may also send all future letters addressed without my title. Goodnight.

Claire didn't realize she was grinning; she didn't realize how silly she was behaving until she had already taken up a fresh sheet of parchment and her quill. Only then did she blink several times and take a deep breath. After sitting motionless for several moments, she made up her mind. She would write him one final letter and then go to bed. She spent nearly half an hour on the task. When she finished, it said:

Dear Talon,

I find myself shocked by your news of a pirate attack. Can you tell me more? I often feel left out of Dragonwall's war efforts. I would love to be included, when possible. Anyway, I am sorry that your evening is spoiled.

Regarding my important deed, thank you for your approval. I wish I could tell you more. This is not my secret to reveal. I daresay you will know soon enough—tomorrow morning I am sure.

Finally, you are right, I ought to go to bed. I will as soon as I send this. I am up late because it has been difficult to sleep. In my dreams, I often relive my darkest moments in the cellar. It leaves me terrified of sleep. There! That is a secret between you and me.

In any case, I will give tonight's sleep an honest effort—I promise.

Sincerely,

Claire

p.s. Goodnight back.

She finished her letter and passed it along to her guards. It surprised her, but she felt strangely giddy about the idea of passing letters. Letters were the most common form of communication in Dragonwall, so she felt silly for not thinking of it sooner. Taking a small box from her desk, she tucked away the two Talon had already given her. Then, but only because she promised, she went to bed.

Her giddiness kept her fear at bay, but it did not eliminate it entirely. Deep down, she was still too paranoid to sleep. She lay awake for a long time, thinking of the possibilities the future might hold. She and Talon were finally on the same page—they were finally working together on good terms. It felt like a massive win, but was it enough? She needed him on her side, but his support would only get her so far.

Sprite blood flowed through her veins. Part of her knew that mastering her Sprite magic was the key she needed. This meant she would need training. Would Talon allow her to leave the capital for Esterpine?

When her eyes finally closed for good, the dreams came...

At first, they were scattered and incomprehensible: They shifted from scary, to comforting, to downright terrifying. Tark's wicked face swam in and out of view; Talon appeared and silenced him forever. Queen Jade encouraged her to come home; the forest surrounded her with comfort. Kane grinned back at her with malice; he assured her she would fail. The Stones begged her to come for them; they promised her success. Kane laughed at her Unbreakable Promise; she would never defeat him.

Kane's promise to haunt her dreams proved true. His ability to intrude made sleep a battle. What he did not anticipate, were the ties that allowed her to see him hiding the Stones. When his efforts subsided—perhaps he grew bored—her dreams finally shifted into something more concrete. She found herself on the back of a dragon, reliving Kane's latest adventure:

The sharp peaks of the Northern Barrier Range stretched far below her. Wrath the Red flapped his mighty wings. Each downward stroke took her further from familiarity and closer to the unknown. Darknest appeared, nestled in the mountains. A thrill shot through her. She longed to explore its secrets, for many secrets it held.

Her eyes slid over the now deserted stronghold. Its ramparts were in ruins. She had considered this place for its potential before settling on Shadowkeep. Now, it would serve a new purpose. She hated to part with her final Stone, but it would be safe here.

When Wrath landed, she slid from his back and retreated into the fortress. Its crumbling corridors were large enough to fit the dragon bodies of those who used to live within its walls. How mighty this place once was!

She set off to explore its depths. Like most dark places in the world, nature had greedily laid its claim. Somewhere within, an animal yowled. Leaves on overgrown vines rustled in greeting as she walked past. Little critters screeched and fled from her light as she appeared. They felt her power—her disturbance. They knew what she carried.

Darknest opened its heart to her, willingly spilling its secrets. She found a home for her Dragon Stone deep in its bowels. There she set about the necessary enchantments to keep it safe.

As she finished her final incantation, her vision detached and she was expelled as if leaving her own body. She blinked several times. Kane appeared before her, standing over the glowing orb of protection placed about a red Dragon Stone. Fear shot through her. She needed to leave—to escape—before she was discovered.

Kane's last words hung in the air like a heavy mist. He turned to her. His eyes widened for a brief moment before narrowing in suspicion. "Oh, it is only you," he said. There was relief in his voice. "How did you get here?"

"I—" Her voice cracked.

He clicked his tongue, scolding her. "You have behaved very badly, Claire. I am afraid I cannot let you leave. Not now." He reached for her.

She jumped out of reach just in time...

Her eyes flew open and she found herself sitting upright, breathing hard. She scrambled from her bed as if it were a monster and lit a candle. She was convinced that Kane was somewhere in her quarters, evidenced by the fear she felt and the goosebumps on her skin. When light flooded her sleeping chamber, she looked around. She was alone—Kane was not here.

Rational thought returned, and as it did, details about her dreams receded. A few minutes later, her breathing returned to normal. It was only a dream—just a dream. No matter how frightening, Kane couldn't touch her. Everything was in her head, and she was safe.

She had half a mind to abandon her bed—Desaree would be happy to see her awake so early—but she promised Talon she would make an honest effort to sleep.

A sudden but strange idea came over her. She went to the wall of her sleeping chamber and placed her hand against it. When she closed her eyes, she could almost feel the hum of the castle's magic—Sprite magic. She wasn't sure how it might help her, but she said a little prayer in her mind, begging the magic, if it heard her, to keep her safe from Kane's evil. It seemed silly, but it felt right.

When she finished, she crawled back under her blankets. Perhaps the magic did hear her, or it might have merely been luck, but this time she drifted off into a peaceful sleep filled with blue mists, sentient trees, and ethereal beings. Kane would not show himself again—at least, not tonight.

⭐🌟 DON'T FORGET TO VOTE!!🌟⭐