Heir of Dust and Wind

Chapter 26 - Difficult Decisions

Raban felt like watching another of the silly comedies his mother had insisted on when he was younger. Despite fact that he was still handcuffed and didn't where exactly or was or even why he was here at all, he let himself wonder for a moment if she was alive and well. After all, he had no idea how long he'd been locked up and what had transpired since then.

She had dragged him to the court's theatre whenever she had had a free evening and insisted that he needed to be well-versed in the fine arts as in skills of fighting. Raban had disagreed, but she had paid his grumbling resistance and sullen looks no mind.  

Now, however, he didn't dare to take his eyes off the other three beings in the room. Even though nobody had said a word or even made a sound - aside from the smaller Dracaeni who had gasped when the other two had emerged from the dungeons with him. Yet, their facial expressions and the looks in their eyes somehow reminded him of the plays he watched all those years ago. 

From where he sat on the couch, Raban observed the taller of the two Dracaeni pacing in front of the large fireplace, hands behind his back. The dark-haired male practically bristled with tension and although the grim expression on his face never wavered, his eyes were alive with some kind of storm that went on inside his head.  The tension in his jaw that looked practically painful to him was yet another sign that something more was going on.

Raban had been shocked and relieved when he had recognized the warrior that had entered his vault. He knew him from the war. Trygve. Someone like him was indeed hard to forget. 

Fighting for Alderman Frode's legions and he was even among the Fae. Or rather he had been feared until his master had - for reasons unknown - cut off his wings. Raban had no regard for sorcerers in general or Frode in particular, whose reputation of cruel arrogance preceded him. Yet, it was beyond his comprehension why the Alderman had been so determined to render one of the deadliest weapons in his arsenal useless.

Strangely though, there was not even the faintest trace of weakness or injury that he could perceive now. Fae senses might not be as sensitive as Dracaeni ones, but an injury that severe should have been perceptible even for him. Maybe the aftereffects of whatever spell Dunstan had put on him down in the dungeons, were still lingering, Raban mused. If that was the case, he needed to be extra careful.

All the more because Trygve certainly didn't need his wings to be lethal. His swordsmanship was legendary, rivalled only by that of his own kind. Therefore, even without wings and in his human form he'd certainly be a worthy adversary.

The fact that the mighty warrior was here, made him wonder how he had ended up in the service of another sorcerer, let alone a female one. He cautiously glanced at the delicate-looking woman who sat on the other sofa - the other Dracaeni close by. 

How was that even possible? To his knowledge, there were only males of her kind. However, her signature hadn't let him doubt what she was for one second.

Even though Raban wanted and needed to stay alert given his dire situation, he couldn't help the uneasiness that spread in his chest. How long had he been held captive?

Every once in a while Raban felt the sorceress's eyes on him. She had chosen a position on the other sofa, as far away from him as possible, although his hands and feet were still shackled. They left just enough room for him to eat the sandwiches and drink the tea, which the second, Dracaeni had prepared. Him Raban didn't know.

The fact that they had provided him with food and drink was yet another piece of the puzzle that he didn't quite know how to place. The only thing he knew for sure was that Trygve hadn't been happy about it, since his already dark eyes had turned pitch black at the sight.