ā ā
A SUPPLEMENTARY TALE : leif & seliph
ā soldiers, at rest! the order has come from lord seliph. we are to stay here for the night, but be on alert. i will need volunteers for first watch . . .Ā ā
the voice ringing out over the halls brings audible relief to the amassed soldiers, many of them weary and wounded from the long campaign from meace west to castle luthecia, where they have now made their temporary base. the first half of what had been a daunting series of battles in thracia has come to a close, and many would argue that they had put the worst behind them. meace, kapathogia, and luthecia are all in their possession, travant has been slain, and the famous shield of thracia and his adopted son are now sworn fighters in the service of the liberation army.Ā
all that remains are the castles in thraciaās heartland, and the biggest threats are goneĀ ā save prince areone and what certainly awaits them in his hand: the gungnir. && further, though the thought weighs on few other minds besides his own, what will become of thraciaās princess?Ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā ā my lord, will you allow me to change your bandages?Ā ā
the young cleric pulls him from his thoughts, and he looks up to her from his place on the bed, bare from the waist up save for a thick swath of cloth around his middle. bruises and cuts litter his arms and torso, and the cotton about his right side is already pink again. he glances down at it, where travantās lance had pierced through leather and flesh, gouging deep, nearly incapacitating him.
he remembers the spark of triumph in the manās eyes when he thought heād gotten the best of him. his fingers tighten in his sheets. heās dead. heād severed the tyrantās head with his own light brand, as heād been dreaming of doing for sixteen years. itās over.Ā ā yes. thank you.Ā ā as he shifts to allow her to unwind the cloth from him with precise care, his mind back goes to what travant had left behind.Ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā youāre saying the person i believe to be my father is my true
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā fatherās murderer? what nonsense.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā i . . . i want so badly to say youāre lying . . . but i canāt!
she had told him to wait, left him standing there on the battlefield while she flew back to thracia to confront travant about the truth. but then the king had sprung a surprise attack on meace, and leif had had to break from seliphās main force to lead men to meaceās defense. he had been so focused on avenging his fatherās death that he hadnāt had time to wonder whether altena had been able to learn the truth at all.
sheād looked just like heād always imaginedĀ ā fierce and proud, as one bearing nobaās lineage. hair, eyes, a face like his, like the portrait of his father. their father. and if that wasnāt telling enough, sheād held the gae bolg itself in her hands. his sister. but would she believe him? or would she be waiting with prince areone in thracia, ready to cut him down?Ā
the thought makes him so restless that he itches to move, to find answers, even just talk to someone. but all he can do is wait. heād just ridden back from meace to rejoin seliph and the others, and his injury is still healing. his expression flinches as the cleric applies a disinfecting poultice to the angry-looking wound. he hatesĀ waiting.
