❝𝒏𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒃𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒂.❞
(i will fear no evil)
━━━━━━━━━━
𝒃𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒂𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔
Five years had passed since the divine deal was made and a lot had changed, following the phase of time.
Elianna sta...
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Years later. | Arell: twenty-one. Iftia: Sarein, West Iftia
• Arell •
The snow squall was howling as if by pent up divine rage, a whirl of white cascaded from the skies and clouds of heaven-spun silver. The travelling crew trudged ahead with their vision narrowed and unable to make out the path ahead. This calamity arrived without warning and losing a footing, Arell slipped and fell off the escarpment.
"Your Highness!" Clyde, his knight, shouted.
Clyde attempted to stretch towards him and out of panic, Arell shouted, "Don't!"
The world rushed him by and he knew that pain was coming when he felt his bones jangled in a manner that followed the velocity of his fall. It was impossible to summon his gift in time to stop his fall, especially not when the massive gale was pushing him faster on his way down and gravity was playing against him for some reasons. Though he tried, at least averting the direction of the wind so that he wouldn't be taken too far away. The expected crash arrived and he could only thank for the thick snow beneath for cushioning the impact of his fall. At this point, Arell could no longer move and it was almost impossible to save himself from his fading conscious. Despite how unwilling he was to submit to his fate, everything faded to black before he knew it.
※
The next time he opened his eyes, the heaviness in his head weighed him down and he blinked harder each time to clear his blurred vision. Propping himself up on one arm, he groaned at the unbearable pain that pierced through his entire being and judging from the excruciating discomfort that he was experiencing, Arell was sure that he had broken some bones.
Regardless, he forced himself to sit with all the strength he could gather and his eyes scanned to study his surroundings. His eyes quickly spotted a lady that was sitting by the fireplace, knitting.
"Um, lady?" Arell called out to her, feeling a little awkward that he had been making so much complaining groans of discomfort when someone was in the room with him.
She didn't respond to him, her attention still fixed on her fingers that were moving fast in an exact routine, tangling the strings together into beautiful stitches that extended from her knitting needles. The whole place was silent with only the quiet cracklings of the firewood and the soft clatterings of those slender needles as if they were having their own conversation with threads of wool. Arell tried again, "Lady?"
Arell assumed that she was too focused on her craft to notice the world around her but he needed to talk to her to at least understand the circumstances and if he was still in Sarein. Adjusting his legs off the bed, he walked towards her and stood behind her. She had an absolute focus on the craft that he felt apologetic to even interrupt her so he tapped lightly on her shoulder but her reaction was much greater than he expected. Letting go of her hand, the lady dropped the needles in her hands and they clanked against the ground noisily while she turned and stared at him with widened eyes. It was the first eye contact they shared but Arell stunned when their gaze met.
