Blood Memories [Last of Elves book 1] (NaNoWriMo 2014)

Sixteen: Panthera

Panthera

He spent the night pacing, wearing a nice track in the rather expensive looking rug on the ground.

Not that he cared.

As the sun rose, he moved outside to watch it. It was a clear day, the sun streaking across the sky in pale purple and pink rays. The light glinted off his hair as he leant on the railing, watching as the town began to wake up. The early wakers were hurrying through the streets, mostly merchants and shop owners on their way to open for the upcoming day.

“You enjoy watching the town?”

He didn’t move, but resigned himself to her company. He didn’t answer her, either, and she sighed, appearing in his field of vision beside him.

“I know you don’t like me,” she began, and he glared at her, furious at the interruption to what might have been a nice morning.

“Nice of you to pick that up,” he said scathingly. “Now you can go away.”

Again, she sighed. “Will you ever stop hating me?”

“Not that I can see,” he snapped, and turned away, leaving the room. He didn’t know where he was going, and he didn’t care, either. As long as he was away from her. He refused the meal that was offered to him when he went past the eating areas, and made his way to a small, open room that he’d found not long after arriving. Because one wall was pretty much open to the air, bordered by a terrace, it had quickly become his place of escape. The place where he could find his connection with the earth again. He just didn’t want her to know he knew about it.

Hoping that he wouldn’t be interrupted again, he ventured out onto the terrace once more, leaning on the railing. It offered him a different view of the town, and he settled to study the town again, enjoying himself.

He spent the time thinking, thinking about why he was here, and what she had done to him. He could still conjure up the feel of her fingers on his jaw, so light and delicate. A part of him wanted to feel it again, see the shock in her eyes at what she had done, but the bigger part of him refused. She was dangerous. She wouldn’t let him leave the temple. Most of all, she was human.

He wasn’t.

It was too much of a risk, too painful to ask her to do that when he would be leaving her. He wasn’t going to break another girl’s heart the way he had broken his sister’s.

With a sigh, he looked down at the city below him, wishing that he was walking among them again. Even though it had been crowded and smelly, at least he’d had more freedom than what he had now. He stayed there until the sun reached the top of the sky, content to just watch the people going about their business. The women rushing through, doing what seemed like ten things at once, while their children in tow screamed about something. The men conducting their business, trading and haggling, the sounds of good-natured arguments rising on the cool breeze.

It was so different to his home, where he had been raised. Sometimes, he preferred the city’s way. Liked the hustle and bustle of the people, but always, his heart yearned for the trees.

It was the yearning of his stomach that finally made him move. Finally hungry, he returned to his room, knowing that there would be a meal waiting for him. There always was.

As expected, the meal was there.

Unfortunately, so was the priestess.

He scowled at her and brushed past her, ignoring her. Eating absently, he stood on the terrace, hoping that she would go away. Deep down, though, he knew that it was in vain. She would stay until he’d heard all that she wanted to say.

“You can’t avoid me forever.”

“Watch me,” he muttered, not quite loud enough for her to hear him.

“I need to speak to you.”

“And you’re succeeding,” he answered bluntly. “Now go away.”

She huffed, and followed him out. “You know why you’re here?”

“Because you won’t let me leave.”

She huffed again. “I know you’re not stupid, Panthera. Why do you fight your destiny?”

He glanced at her, studying her for a long moment. “I’m not,” he said simply.

She blinked at him, at a loss for words. He snorted slightly, and ignored her, leaning on the railing.

She finally sighed, losing the haughty air that seemed to constantly follow her around. “Why are you here then? What made you come here?”

He didn’t answer for a long time, thinking about what he really wanted to tell her. At last, he spoke, softly, still not looking at her. “You have a charm on your ankle.”

She stared at him, and when he looked at her, he could see the confusion in her eyes. “What are you talking about? That’s not of any importance.”

He smiled slightly. “No, it is. What’s the charm of, priestess?”

She glanced down for a second. “Fire,” she said softly. “It’s a ball of flame. The symbol of the goddess. But what does it mean to you? It’s personal.”

“It is, but fire was not originally the goddess’. It was the earth’s. The elves have long known that.”

“That was what brought you to the temple? A tiny silver fire charm?”

Her astonishment was amusing, and he smiled briefly. “Not many carry the fire, priestess. It intrigued me.” He finally turned to her, holding her eyes in his gaze. His voice dropped slightly. “You intrigued me.”