Chapter 59: His Unveiled Wife
Amory's fingers drummed against the arm of his throne as he stared at his visitor. He felt familiar; his mannerisms and tone. But Amory was sure that he'd never seen him before. His jaw clenched when he recalled why they were both in his throne room.
"Your people will be returned to you once your troops retreat from the borders of Marcham." His disturbingly familiar voice announced and Amory lowered his gaze on him.
Tilting his head, he hopes to see the messenger before him falter, but he didn't. He grunted, "You expect me to have my forces retreat from your kingdom, on a whim?"
"I expect you to care for your people." The man dared and Amory's nostrils flared, he was tempted to snap his neck. He imagined the snap of the bone before he imagined the rush of blood. Blood.
His stomach churned, with both hunger and disgust. He was becoming ill from the lack of it, weakened, and he hated it. He wanted more than ever not to depend on the lifeforce of, what he supposed were, his fellow humans.
But he was still cursed. He still wanted to taste it running over his tongue and down his throat. Shaking his head, he said, "You will have your answer by tomorrow morning." He waved him away and the doors opened behind him.
The man's bright eyes flickered between Amory's eyes before he turned and left the room as though he owned it.
"What do you plan to do?" Clark asked after a long pause. He had stood a step behind the throne throughout the whole meeting.
Amory's fingers drummed. "We'll fan out. I'll go east, you go west. We will find the innocents on our own and keep our troops in place." Keep Velio in place. Though… she was gone.
He blinked and left to go to his room. Changing into clothing suitable for trekking across his kingdom, he transported himself to the first province he needed to search.
The day passed slowly. He never tired, though with the lack of blood he could feel his strength weakened. When he felt tired enough that he wished to return to the castle, he recalled a place that he had visited often. A place that called to him, strangely.
He inhaled deeply the moment the soles of his boots landed on the damp ground. The stone circle wasn't far from where he stood but he still stood there for a few moments.
He couldn't understand why this place called to him. Why he always returned there. It was confusing, and deep within himself, he sensed he was searching for something.
Shaking his head, he returned his focus to the stone circle just beyond the lines of trees. He'd not entered it, even though it no longer reeked of magic. He just…couldn't enter it. Standing in between the two stones he saw through to the edge, seeing the forest on the opposite side.
She'd been tormented, hadn't she? He had told her to prove the existence of whatever she'd seen here that night. She never had. Though, with all she had experienced he doubted that she'd had the time to research it.
Just when he was about to leave he saw a ripple on the opposite side of him before the forest vanished and in its place stood a reflection of him. He stared curiously at it. Had he brought the magic to the circle?
When a vague silhouette—like a ghost—appeared in the centre of the circle. Her face wasn't covered with a veil and the bones of her face were slightly more prominent.
Amory's lips parted and he couldn't help the small exhale that exited his lungs. Like she'd wrung it from him. The witch. His chest squeezed as he surveyed her dirtied clothes. Was this a vision?
When his eyes lifted to see if her eyes were hollow he nearly jumped when they stared directly at him. Meeting his eyes with an expression as shocked as his.
"Yavanna?" He breathed before he could stop himself.
Her eyes widened and he nearly chuckled at her familiar expression of surprise. 'Or fear…' A small voice in the back of his mind whispered, but he paid it no mind.
She still looked like nothing but a waif, but she was standing right in front of him.
"Where are you? How are you here?" He asked. Suddenly wondering if this was finally his chance. He'd searched for her…for the first week. But he had soon received a message from Clark telling him to give up. To focus on his kingdom.
Clark. He had expected his brother to be more upset with him, or to have more of a drive to find Yavanna. But his brother had surprisingly encouraged him to focus more on the kingdom than on his queen.
But now she stood before him. Her lips moved but he could not hear a word she said. Desperation, bitter and fierce, built up in his chest and he reached through the invisible barrier for the first time. But his hand passed through her.
Her lips parted in shock and her eyes widened, staring at him in confusion. She was here, yet not. How? He ran a hand through his hair, "Are you alright? Has Niran hurt you?" He asked, his voice darkening from the thoughts that swarmed his mind.
The idea of the warlock touching her in anyway was what had strangled him the most. It had haunted him every time he thought of her. Rune had gone out searching for Yavanna as well, but Amory didn't remain in contact with him. The idea of the dog searching for his wife didn't sit well within him.
She shook her head, confusion swarming in those wide eyes. His eyes did soften that time and he felt some of the tension leave his shoulders.
"Are you safe?" He asked again and the tension returned when her head shook, almost too slight for him to notice. But he could see the hesitation in her expression, the way her teeth drew in her lower lip. He stared at the pink lip and found himself lost in her.
How had he gone so long without seeing her face?
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