Something Lost (Original Draft)

Chapter 21: The Artist

*Please remember to click the vote button, I'd super appreciate it, and if you enjoyed my work please follow me for updates. Thank you.

   We began our trek back to Berthold the next morning. Luckily, Trista and Ellah were both unharmed during our brief stay in Yew's dungeon, which I was thankful for. I rode most of the day atop Trista, but was advised, by Andrew, to ride with him as we journeyed into the night.

   I made it into the middle of the night without feeling the slightest ounce of fatigue. By then, we reached Berthold Forest. The tall slender trees that flooded the land rocked calmly in the wind. My bright eyes began to loosen giving in to the silent spell the trees were casting. We would reach Berthold by mid-afternoon if we continued at this pace. I was looking forward to returning, excited to get back to a civilized colony.

I watched the trees as they swept by one by one, and soon my heavy eyelids closed as I found myself silently counting them. Sometime passed into my count before I drifted into a dreamless sleep with my arms wrapped securely around Andrew.

I awoke later to a faint sound, a sound that wasn't clear at first. This sound was muffled and feminine in nature. I lifted my head from Andrew's shoulder. I was slouched over, still holding onto him just as tightly as I was when I fell asleep. It was dark, but shortly my eyes adjusted along with my ears. I could hear the sound clearly now, it sounded like weeping, though it rapidly grew into shouting.

Andrew glanced over his shoulder, noticing I was awake. He put his hand over his mouth. I knew all too well what he meant by that sign. He turned away and quietly listened. Curious, I pressed my body against his and dangled my head over his shoulder to get a better view of where the sounds originated. I could hear the voices clearly. They were those of James and Cassandra, and they were arguing like children, it was pathetic.

Their voices carried through the night like a great horn, calling forth everything with ears to listen to its call. How could they be oblivious that their private conversation was no longer private? What they were speaking about wasn't meant for any of us to hear, but shamefully that didn't stop us from listening.

They called each other ugly words, and shockingly pointed out each other's flaws without care of overstepping boundaries, but what they most argued about was their past. There were things that were awkward to hear, especially for me. She accused him of leading me on to get back at her, only to make her jealous. She was furious that he had kept my wielding ability a secret from her and the rest of the knights. Of course, he told her that none of that was any of her business, thus setting her on a fiery tirade once more. After what seemed an eternity of belittlements thrown back and forth between them they were silenced.

The sounds of insects rang throughout the forest. I wondered if they were too exhausted to continue their battle, no one had made a peep in so long. They weren't too far ahead of the group, they were easily seen. The moonlight beamed through the thinning trees, it acted like a spotlight as it shown down upon them.

She held the reins of her horse with one hand, and her free hand lay against the bust of her breastplate, as if she were trying to keep herself steady. She looked fragile, like a glass figurine atop her well-groomed steed. I never thought, I would see her like this, so vulnerable, so human.

"The night before we journeyed here, I had foreseen your death... You can't imagine the terror I felt when I was torn from my sleep and told that Lord Alexander had sensed someone had tampered with the letter. I must have looked like a mad woman when I begged him to allow me to be a part of the campaign he was sending to Yew," she said. Her soft confession was almost lost to the songs of the night creatures that serenaded the forest.