A Song of Exile - Chapter II: Still Heart

Nyx had seen love before. Or at least, she’d heard of it. She remembered the countless stories her handmaids would weave for her about her beautiful mother and the king. It was always said that the king loved his mistress much more than his queen, which would explain why the queen had such a strong distaste for Nyx. The young princess wondered if he loved them both, if his cold eyes were once full of happiness.

She saw what love was from the glazed looks on her handmaids’ faces. She had seen it in the darkest corners of the palace, where prying eyes wouldn’t reach. Sometimes it would slither into the court and slip into the cracks of even the most bitter of hearts. She had seen love, once, on Val’s face, before the Queen Mother died.

It’s one thing to look at someone and want to spend the rest of your life with them.

It’s another thing entirely to look at someone and wonder how much time you have left.

Nyx wanted to know what it felt like to be so inexplicably drawn to another person, to be able to give up everything for the one. But she knew that she couldn’t. Love was for soft girls with their easy smiles and carefree attitudes. Nyx couldn’t afford infatuation. She was a princess, and one day she would be married off to some foreign royalty, maybe even become an empress herself one day. She couldn’t let herself become that vulnerable.

So she tried very hard to push thoughts of infatuation out of her head, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t forget him. When he showed up at the castle after her lessons, she knew that her childhood crush had bloomed into something more. The sight of him left her knees wobbly, her heart begging to burst out of her chest.

So much for not falling in love.

He stood uncertainly in the palace halls, looking so endearingly lost that Nyx couldn’t help but grin. “Looking for something?” Zephyr jumped at the sight of her. His curly black hair formed a sort of halo around his head. Nyx wanted nothing more than to run her fingers through his hair, trail her lips against his jaw, and—

“Evening, Your Highness.” Zephyr dropped into a bow, shattering Nyx’s fantasy. “I was just on my way to see your brother, His Majesty the crown prince.” Nyx deflated. Impossibly, she was hoping that he had come to see her. But of course that wasn’t the case. Zephyr rarely came to the palace, and when he did it was always to deliver some sort of bad news.

Nyx recalled the first time she had met Zephyr. She had only been seven years old at the time, hiding in the shadow of her father’s throne. He had knelt before the royal family, recounting the capture of a witch near the border. She had thought him unbearably handsome even then, with his dark skin and high cheekbones. Even though she admired his appearance, she couldn’t help but despise him. In her naive mind, the captain of the witch hunter guild was the man who had taken her brother away from her.

So she waited until he had left the throne room before following him. “You had no right.” She had accused. “No right to take him away from me.”

Zephyr looked at her with a bewildered and slightly amused expression that irritated the young princess even more. Back then, he stood like a tower over her. It had made her feel small and insignificant. “Beg your pardon, Your Highness?”

Nyx tilted her chin up in defiance. “My brother, Aleksander. You took him and now he’s going to kill himself fighting in your stupid guild.”

For a moment he didn’t speak, lost for words. Then he burst into a fit of laughter. Nyx flushed a deep red. Zephyr pulled himself together and straightened, yet he still had the gall to grin. “I’m sorry, Your Highness. I had no idea I had recruited a lost prince of Pella.”

She puffed with indignation. “He isn’t a prince. He’s my half brother, and I demand that you immediately take him out of your service.” It was common knowledge that the princess was a bastard, born of the king and his mistress. This truth was something that plagued Nyx day after day. People whispering behind her back. The Queen Mother and her piercing glares in Nyx’s direction. No matter where she turned, she was reminded of her unlawful origins.

But she hadn’t minded, not until Alek left. He was the only one who had kept her safe from the rumours and the accusations. He was the strong one. And now, he had left her on her own.

Zephyr’s eyes softened, as if he could hear her thoughts. He reached out and ruffled her hair. “I’m afraid I cannot, Your Highness. It is Alek’s choice whether or not he wants to stay with the guild.” She was going to argue more, but Zephyr continued, in an almost conspiratorial whisper. “Between you and me, I think he joined to protect you.”

The admission had left her speechless. Then, he did something so preposterous and beautiful that Nyx had fallen in love with him. He smiled, right at her. A big, toothy smile, genuine and full of a warmth that Nyx craved more than anything else. The action had left Nyx harbouring a crush that lasted for ten years, only growing as time passed by. It didn’t matter that he was more than a decade older than her. After all, age was just a number.

Now she stood before him again, but this time she was only an inch or two shorter. That didn’t stop that same feeling of insignificance she had felt as a child. “What kind of business do you have with the prince?” If Nyx were being totally truthful, she didn’t much care what Zephyr had to say to her brother. She just didn’t want this little interaction with him to end.

Zephyr scratched the back of his neck. “His Highness has requested my presence, and...” Zephyr hesitated. She could see the indecision in his eyes. Nyx’s heart swelled. Could it be? Had Zephyr indeed come to see her?

She reached her hand out and brushed him lightly on the arm. Zephyr looked up, startled. “And?” Nyx asked, her voice taking a sultry tone. This, however, had the opposite effect that Nyx wanted. Zephyr pulled away from her touch, all business once again.

“And I was going to inform the prince that a pair of Zenon ambassadors arrived at the guild yesterday. They requested to have an audience with the prince later tonight.”

Nyx scrunched her brows, not trusting her ears. “Zenon ambassadors? In Eden?” The Zenon Empire was an impressive kingdom, advanced in their technology and warfare. It was also known that they did not get along well with magic and those who practiced the magical arts, brushing it off as evil and unnatural. All throughout her life, Pella and the Zenon Empire had not exactly been on friendly terms. Hearing that a couple of Zenon ambassadors were in the city was startling, to say the least.

Before Zephyr could respond, they were interrupted by a servant, a pretty little thing with flaming red hair and a spattering of freckles. “I’m sorry for the interruption, but the crown prince has requested your immediate presence in the throne room, Captain Zephyr. If you would follow me...”

With that, Zephyr bowed, mumbled a quick goodbye, and disappeared down the hall, leaving Nyx alone and dazed in the hall like he did all those years ago. 

___

Beads of sweat dripped down her forehead. Cyra concentrated even harder, willing the mouse to still. She felt for the energy surrounding the living creature, visualizing it as a wisp of smoke that bent to her will. She lifted a finger and poked its furry body. “Turn,” she commanded, in the most persuasive tone she could muster. She closed her eyes. She imagined the mouse folding into itself, its bones malleable as clay. She pictured the mouse stretching itself into a quill. When she opened her eyes, the mouse was still there. It looked at her with its beady black eyes and let out a tiny squeak.

Cyra threw her hands into the air. “What am I doing wrong?” she groaned. She had been working on this spell for weeks, and the only thing to show for it was a lump of clay that had once been a lump of bread. A flare of anger rushed through her. It would’ve taken two minutes for Esfir to have mastered the spell. What kind of apprentice was she without her mentor? Not an apprentice, she thought sulkily. She stood from the workbench and went to the front of the store, a meaningless action. It’s not like there would be any customers. Still, it was less stuffy, and taking the inventory calmed her. It was the one thing that hadn’t changed since had Esfir left.

Nowadays, she couldn’t think about her old mentor without a sharp sting of resentment. She said that she was going on an errand, which wasn’t unusual. But the fact that she hadn’t been back in eleven years wasn’t just her running an errand; it was her leaving. Or dead. Cyra found herself hoping more and more that it was the second option. It would mean that Esfir didn’t want to leave Cyra by herself, at least not if she could help it. The first option meant that her mentor didn’t want her anymore, and that would be another person to add to Cyra’s list of people who left her.

She scribbled little notes in her inventory book, the silence a constant reminder of her solitude. To top it off, she hadn’t had a customer in weeks. Witches had been disappearing from the sector gradually, driven out by the growing scorn of the non magical. The last witch in Cyra’s part of the city had packed her bags a month ago, but not before urging Cyra to do the same if she knew what was good for her.

But of course Cyra couldn’t leave. She had nowhere else to go.

And, secretly, in the depths of Cyra’s heart, there was a tiny hope that one day her mentor would return with her gentle smile, clutching a doll that was obviously meant for her beloved apprentice.

Cyra clutched the quill so hard that ink started to seep through the page, leaving a black blot through several pages. Her finger went to a spot on the paper that had dampened. Horrified, she felt tears stinging her eyes.

She quickly wiped her eyes on her sleeve. No sense in crying over something she couldn’t change. But even knowing that it wasn’t her fault, she still couldn’t stop the pain in her chest.

Her mother had left her, and so did her mentor. Even her own country despised her for her magic, a magic that she could barely conjure up. She wondered what kind of sins she must have committed in another life to warrant this isolation.

She was all alone, and maybe she always would be. 

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A/N: I've officially uploaded this story to Wattpad. Check it out if ya'll have the time (it's under the same name) :)