Moonlit Scales [rewriting]

Moonlit Scales: Thirteen

M O O N L I T   S C A L E S :
Chapter Thirteen

[]

QUEEN EHRONY took my arm and led me to a hallway decorated with portraits of the elder kings. At the end, I saw King Morgan's picture framed on high, and next to him an empty space. I remembered what Ambrose had told me one night: he didn't want the title. He didn't want the responsibility or stress that accompanied the position of King of Avalon.

I trailed behind the queen on the winding spiral staircase that led to the Royal's personal infirmary, wondering what I was going to say. I wanted desperately to know what happened after I had leapt at the monster that was atop the prince. But if he was injured, or half-conscious, I wouldn't want to pester him with demands.

We reached a white door with a cross engraved on it. The queen gestured for me to go inside. "We'll wait for you in the dining room. Meanwhile, we will retrieve your family as you sort things out." And she left, just like that, abandoning me with the churning questions and restless thoughts that swirled in my head like a rainstorm, and the one person who had the answers that could either make me or break me.

I chewed on the inside of me cheek as I slipped inside, where Ambrose was propped up on some pillows on a drab, white bed. His head snapped up as I fumbled in towards him, closing the door behind me. He had a nice, private healing room which was bigger than the bedroom I shared with Addy at home. It was then that the differences between us really stood out, and I squirmed under his gaze.

"Hello," he stated simply, shocked that I was, indeed, a girl again. "Your eyes . . ."

"Yes. No more reptilian slits."

"I'm going to miss that, being as what had me recognize you when we met."

A blush spreading over my cheeks, I asked him, "How are you faring?" as I examined his face. He had a bruise darkening the left side of his eye, but he looked rather well, given all that he'd been through. His arm was in a sling with a patch of blood leaking through the bandages, but nothing any more serious than that, which I thanked God for.

"Fine, considering. You?"

"Phoenix is my mother." It wasn't until after I said it that I realized how bad it sounded. "I meant, she is a witch."

"She is alive?" Ambrose queried, the confusion that masked his face similar to mine when I was first told.

"It appears so."

"How?" This was the question I had been dreading. This was the bit that had me zone out when Luna dared explain it to me.

I inhaled deeply before settling on the edge of his mattress. "From what I understand, and that's not very much, mind you, Luna, the witch who had taken the form of Phoenix, is my mother. She casted the dragon spell, in accord to her betraying your father. Luna cost him in the Battle of the Beasts fifteen years ago, when she unintentionally disabled his army in a spell gone wrong. As punishment, she was to enchant her daughter in penance for all the lives lost due to her carelessness.

"Your parents asked her to watch me from afar, because, just like her previous spells, they feared something would go wrong. However, if I found a way redeem my mother, and in my case this meant saving your life in the Battle of the Beasts fifteen years after my mother's mistake, the curse would be lifted. Here I am," I said.

Ambrose whistled in approval, and we smiled. "So that's it? You are free from the spell, your mother is free from her punishment, and you two will be reunited with your family?"

As he said it aloud, my heart soared at the confirmation of what he was declaring. "Yes, I guess so." A part of me knew my mother would never be free of the guilt that weighed her down from what happened in the past, but like Papa advised me: You can't change it, but you can learn from it. I could hope for that, I supposed.

"Oh, speaking of, they are waiting for me below in the dining hall. You're welcome to join us, if your condition allows you." I leaned away from his bed, standing and suddenly very eager to see my family.

"I am fine, Skylar, thanks to you." The sincerity in his voice tugged a genuine smile from me, because, like my eyes were his way of knowing me, his sincerity pulled me to him.

"My real name is Sky Fae Lark. Skylar was my alias as the peasant boy who went to war," I informed him, not wanting to be called Skylar any longer, not after associating it with the battle I'd faced and the misery that came with it. "Before we head off anywhere, I want to know what happened," I pressed gently, now that I'd brought up the war.

"After you blacked out, you mean?"

"How did you know I blacked out?"

"You snapped his neck, Sky," he started, putting emphasis on my name. "Then you collapsed atop of him. The rest I assumed myself." He looked down at his lap. "Why did you save me, Sky?"

I bit my lip, not quite sure how to word it. I settled on using the Lord's Words, quoting His Holy Book. "'Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous person, though for a good person someone might possibly dare to die.'"

Ambrose smiled at my choice of reference, before pushing himself up with his elbow and throwing the sheets away with his good arm. He stood, not without shaking, and I helped him to the door, where my family was waiting just outside, a flight of steps away.