The Prince's Mark

The Road to Dezmer - Twelve

Seeing Ergakan took about a day. Tracou took the elves around the village, showing them the homes and fields, and that had been it. Unlike Tracou, who had things to do here, Mirthal and Pendaer were left to entertain themselves. This meant a lot of stick-sword fighting. But even Mirthal grew tired of that sometimes and sought other things to do, often resulting in wandering around Tracou's manor which... wasn't big enough to properly wander in. When Pendaer was left to his own devices, he made things like: a new bow for Mirthal, arrows, and several pairs of chopsticks. The dezmek ate with their hands, with a layer of magic in between their skin and the food, and Pendaer had apparently had enough of abstaining from utensils. Truthfully, Mirthal had gotten tired of it as well.

Often, he awoke alone—Tracou started his day early. Mirthal and Pendaer alternated between sword fighting and practicing with bows until lunch, when Tracou would appear again. Sometimes he would stay the rest of the day and he and Mirthal could talk or Tracou could watch them practice, but half of the time he had to leave again to work on something with Serpouhi. Then dinner would roll around and Tracou would return again, only to go to bed about an hour or two after he had finished eating.

Frankly, Mirthal hated it.

He should have expected that Tracou had responsibilities. If Tracou visited him in the Elven Kingdom, he would hardly get to see Mirthal depending on the duties he had been assigned. But surely a village couldn't have as much going on as a country! How could Tracou be so busy?

Maybe it would lessen over time. He had been gone for half a year, after all, so tasks might have built up. That all made sense, but he couldn't get rid of a wriggling doubt in his stomach.

What if Tracou preferred the company of his fellow dezmek over Mirthal?

That Serpouhi girl was the main reason he couldn't shake his unease. He sometimes saw her in the manor while Tracou was out, handling various chores with a sense of routine that could only be cultivated over the course of many years. She would give him a pleasant smile and Mirthal would return it, but she unsettled him.

Worse was the way Tracou and Serpouhi looked at each other. They shared an easy closeness, one that Mirthal had never experienced with anyone. Tracou had said she was like his sister. Was this how siblings behaved? He had none of his own. He had asked Pendaer about his sisters and if one of them would leap at him to hug him when he returned home, but Pendaer had been baffled by the question and started going on about how his sisters would never do something so rude in public. Then again, Pendaer's opinion couldn't be trusted. Asking him had been a waste of time.

Before, when traveling with Tracou and Pendaer, Tracou had obviously favored him. He knew exactly where he stood and he had been happy about it, utterly content with his place. But maybe he liked Serpouhi more than he liked him. Perhaps Mirthal's rank had plummeted below the other dezmek in the village.

But what could he do?

If Tracou had been busy purely because of duty, then that would be one thing. Mirthal wouldn't like it, but he could have accepted it and handled Tracou's absence better. If Tracou went out with Serpouhi for the fun of it... Mirthal couldn't help but feel left behind.

One day, around noon, Mirthal's interest in practice waned. Lunch would be soon, so he kept an ear out for the tell-tale pitter-patter of Tracou's footsteps. He glanced down the hill, out into the village, where pockets of dezmek ambled along. Compared to Terel, the majority of the dezmek here had white or faintly gray heads, making Tracou difficult to spot from afar.

Pendaer's movements slowed and he frowned.

"It's nearly lunchtime, is it?"

"Tracou should be back any time now," Mirthal said. "He certainly is busy..."