Chapter 6: Rain or Shine
It had been two nights going onto a third since Aelis had left for the Latroci examination, thought Rosalia as she counted the hours in her head. And every hour that passed meant a greater chance that the fledgling warrior could have been chopped up, eaten, or lost. Rosalia paced backed and forth, kicking up some dirt. If it weren’t for Aelis’s impeccable luck, the girl would have been dead many times over, and much to Rosalia’s exasperation, her thoughts weren’t exaggerated. It only left her with an uneasy mind and bitten-down nails. Why did Aelis have go and do something so outlandish? Perhaps it wasn’t outlandish; many young men and women had become Latroci following, starry-eyed, the promise of glory and the promise of a world free of the Goddess. This year would be the apocalypse, the year of judgment. Rosalia was almost angry, but she didn’t know at what.
Rosalia had come to the guild after her hours at the inn. And today, the Latroci and mercenaries where bustling about more than usual, trying to get their assignments reported before the storm. She was aware of eyes upon her; a woman in an aproned dress had no place in a guild of mercenaries and soldiers. There was only one other woman – if she could even be called that – the Guild Master named Rose, big in all areas and even bigger in mouth, but she was efficient because of her snark and tough love or so say the clients. “Will ya give it a rest, woman? You’re makin’ me dizzy.” Rose’s moled lip spat at her as it took a long drag on a smoldering cigar.
“I’m sorry, but it has been two nights,” Rosalia frowned and paused her gait only to kick at a stray dust clump before returning to her pacing.
“Only two nights.” Rose rolled her eyes, her toad-like visage widening. “You know Latroci are gone for weeks on end, maybe months.” The older woman seemed to have taken liking to making Rosalia even more uneasy. “It’s also not uncommon for examinees to never return – you’d become a skeleton here if that were to happen!” Rose guffawed loudly as nearby loitering mercenaries snickered at her predicament.
Rosalia whirled around to face the Guild Master. “Bite your tongue!” The statement was louder than she had expected to sound; the mercenaries that were minding their own business had become onlookers. She looked down and resumed her pacing. Rosalia shouldn’t be too worried, or so she told herself. Aelis had become quite capable with weaponry after the years of drilling and sparring. But something always held Rosalia back from ever fully letting her heart ease.
She stopped her pacing, lost in thought. Admittedly sleep had not come easy, as much as she would have liked to believe that she had not such an impossible attachment to Aelis. During early sleep, she was plagued by nightmares of flying limbs and splattering blood. But in deeper sleep, she would dream of voices speaking in secret intonations; sometimes she thought she heard her own voice protesting the conversation, and other times she would hear the other voice – the other voice that she felt she knew ever since she could remember. And the latter had been happening ever so frequently; she had dreamt of voices before and no doubt anyone in the room had as well, but she brushed them off. Perhaps it was just the stress, and her light sleep had been interrupted by Gus’s late night conversations with drink-drowned patrons.
Rose’s phlegm-filled cough broke her thoughts. “You should let go a little,” Rose waved a fat arm to dismiss the concern, “throw your little honey to the wolves. Maybe he’d grow a pair.”
Rosalia felt blood rush to face to match her hair as her mouth dropped agape. “He’s not – He?!” Rosalia stood at a loss for words before somewhat recovering, “He’s a she. And she’s not my honey!”
Rose blinked in astonishment, her wrinkles flapping in similar confusion. “Oh. Then it’d be awkward if she did grow a pair – unless you like that.” The woman let out another laugh. Rosalia threw up her ends in frustration and surrender; there would be no helping the Guild Master.
Night had descended upon Biblos quickly. No one had bothered to light the lamps tonight; the spring storms had begun early, thought Rosalia. The winds had already begun howling, blowing open unshut doors and rattling the shutters fastened windows. People were scrambling for shelter and salvaging what they could from their carts and stands. But Rosalia had insisted on staying until the last possible minute.
“Alright, get your asses outta here. I don’t wanna be cleaning your bodies off of my doorstep tomorrow.” Rose’s rasping holler signaled the end of the day.
Rosalia’s heart dropped. No Aelis. She supposed it was her own fault for convincing herself somewhere along the day that Aelis would be back. But Rose had made a good point; Latroci had a duty and they would be gone for far longer than two nights. She supposed it was unreasonable for her to worry – she would have to sleep on that. But her feet were still reluctant to move.
“Go home already. You’ll wrinkle that pretty face and Gus will blame me for having to fire you.” Rose stood to stow away her bookkeeping records in a rickety drawer. She supposed she felt somewhat sympathetic to the younger woman; it was always hard for the families of the Latroci. She shook her head and locked the drawer.
The howling continued to grow and Rosalia had not the energy to retort and merely made for the door. She stopped in her tracks as a crack followed by an angry rumble rolled through the city; lightning split the sky lighting the streets with white stained with black silhouettes. As in cue, rain did not hesitate to whip from the heavens, pounding the earth in giant pellets of liquid.
“Don’t just stand there! Close the damn door.” Rose flew to her stubby feet and slammed the door against the buffeting wind. One would wonder how the woman moved so quickly. “Great. No I’m stuck here with a whiny princess and away from my warm bed.” Rose grumbled all the way back to her seat, shuffling in it to get comfortable. Rosalia mumbled a half apology, having no desire for another exchange.
She didn’t know how long had passed, but the creep of sleep in her eyes told her it was well past midnight. But the maelstrom outside went on, the squeal of winds shaking roofs and throwing planks and glass. It would be a mess in the morning. And at times like this, one wondered if morning would come. She pulled the tattered blanket Rose lent her closer and shifted against the corner of the room for comfort. Sleep would come with reluctance once again.
A loud banging on the door riled her heart to pump as she leapt to her feet and disturbed Rose’s loud snoring. The loud banging came again over the noise of the storm, leaving both women to stare wide-eyed at one another. Maybe it was Aelis, thought Rosalia. She moved to open the door.
“Don’t you dare, girl,” Rose warned. “You don’t know what kind of crazies are out there – ”
Before Rose could finish her sentence the door blasted open, splintering the wood surrounding the latch, revealing a tall elven woman with a wand in hand. Her robes – once white or perhaps blue – were stained with rain and tousled by wind. “I think…this is wrong.” The woman slurred with a heavy accent, looking around confused. Rosalia recovered from the initial shock and wrinkled her nose at the stench of drink. The gust from the blast had put out the small flame that they had kept. Rosalia took an instinctive step back.
“It’s so dark…” The woman laughed, her giggles unstoppable save for the little hiccups that made their rhythmic presence clear.
“Oh brother,” Rose’s annoyed tone came as a comfort, “what the hell do you think you’re doing, Estelle? You busted my door again.”
Rosalia mumbled under her breath, “Why is it not a surprise that you are acquaintances?”
“Hey! Don’t lump me in with that whore. I’m a decent woman,” came Rose’s indignant reply.
“Oh, my dear Rose, is that you? You still haven’t found a man?” Estelle stumbled about, groping blindly in the dark – the dark that no doubt hid Rose’s flaming fury, thought Rosalia with a snicker.
“Blast it. Too dark…” Estelle flailed a wanded hand. A burst of light lit the room as all the lamps fluttered to life with a tip of flame. “But, Rose,” Estelle found her way to Rose’s desk, leaning heavily upon it, exposing a generous amount of cleavage, and began to ramble, “You must be getting old. I am no whore – how many times must I tell you – I am a holy woman!” And she repeated with a drawling emphasis this time, “Holy woman!”
Rose, in an attempt to save her dignity, waved off Estelle’s ravings and returned to shuffling in her seat for that elusive comfortable position she was in moments before, going back to sleep. Rosalia also brushed off the woman’s comment as drunken speech until she saw the crossed crest of healing and another crest of an eagle she did not recognize upon the breast of her robes. Rosalia’s mouth fell open; it was one thing to be a drunkard and another thing to being a drunkard while in uniform.
Estelle must have felt Rosalia’s scrutiny for she turned with a great grin and slurred, “Well, what do we have here. I haven’t met you before.” Estelle put an even greater effort to wobble towards Rosalia. Rosalia stood where she was with a stiffened posture, unsure of whether she should help the woman in her wobbling or to back away. Estelle froze for a moment, staring at Rosalia, blinking. “You really are something,” Estelle wrapped a heavy arm around Rosalia’s shoulders, “you may call me Estelle, or mistress if you prefer. Pleasure to meet you, dearie.”
Rosalia tried to hold her breath to avoid the smell of the tavern and men – many men, no doubt. “Rosalia,” she stated bluntly, “the pleasure is certainly all yours.” She moved to push the other woman away only to be met by resistance as Estelle draped another arm around her neck, pulling her into a tight and uncomfortable embrace. Rosalia turned her head to avoid the putrid breath and did not return the embrace.
“Don’t be shy!” Estelle giggled into her ear. “Why don’t you and I have a little fun?”
A familiar sickening feeling from five years back rose in the pit of Rosalia’s stomach as a rush of heat seared a path up her neck and into her cheeks. “Enough!” She ducked out of the embrace and pushed the elf away, leaving the woman flailing for balance before crashing into the ground in a laughing heap. Rosalia took in a breath to say more – anything, anything to spill her rage that surprised herself. “Who do you think you—“
Before her furious words even finished leaving her mouth, a flash of white that might have been from lightning blotted all things out of her vision and her mind. She vaguely heard Rose snort back into wakefulness and Estelle cease her giggling. Then she felt something crash against her, the weight knocking her down. She gave a startled cry, feeling grimy limbs tangled with her own and catching a whiff of calla lilies.
“Ow…”
Rosalia’s heart froze; she recognized the voice.
“Hi there, Rosalia. You sure make a nice cushion.” The cheerful familiar voice drew warmth into her heart.
When the light and the spots in her eyes subsided, Rosalia could jump for joy as she saw Aelis’s dirty and a little bruised but grinning face. “Aelis!” She clung to the woman sprawled on top of her. Rosalia brought a hand up to brush muddied platinum from Aelis’s fine-boned face. The other woman’s face was streaked with mud and dirt, but those warm auburn eyes were as clear as a mountain stream. Rosalia wondered how Aelis could still be so cheerful, her eyes wandering to meet Aelis’s full upturned lips. With a breath upon her own lips, Rosalia was all too aware of the position that they were in, feeling the flutters of her heart rush just enough to make her lightheaded.
“Oh, your woman is back. I guess you passed er…” Rose rustled through some papers, looking for a name, “Aelis.” Rose settled on the most feminine sounding name and was pleased with her deductive skills when Aelis nodded in response. Rose busied herself with the paperwork, losing interest in the pair.
Pink powdered Rosalia’s cheeks and she gently, yet reluctantly, pushed Aelis away, both women sitting up. Aelis chuckled and said with a tone filled with mirth, “I’m your woman?”
Rosalia flushed more noticeably and refused to meet Aelis’s eyes choosing instead to focus on something sticky on her hands, and she looked. Fresh and old blood stained her hands. Rosalia’s vision sharpened and her demeanor hardened. Aelis must have sensed her sudden flip in mood for her smile wavered and her eyes seemed to wince under her glare. Rosalia ignored the comment, focusing on the blood coming from Aelis’s wounds.
“Aelis, you’re bleeding!” Rosalia began removing Aelis’s battered armor, carefully unbuckling and untying the straps before removing the unblooded pieces. Aelis’s lips tightened as Rosalia reached to unfasten the remaining leather spaulder. Sensitive to Aelis’s body movement, Rosalia gently unstrapped the shoulder guard, and slowly removed it. Rosalia couldn’t see very well, but once the spaulder was removed, she noticed that something had cut clean through the leather and onto flesh. Blood stained the once cream-colored tunic; it was still wet.
Rosalia’s brows were knitted so tightly that Aelis was afraid that she was going to put permanent creases in her forehead. “It’s not that bad.”
Rosalia, only clenched her teeth, anger rising. Anger at what, though? It’s not that bad to you, thought Rosalia. She would see worse for she has seen nothing even now. Rosalia dropped gaze, concentrating on removing the rest of the armor. Aelis searched her face, wondering what was wrong. “Rosalia, I came back right?”
At times, Rosalia hated it when Aelis could read her so freely. “Yes, but—“
“Well don’t stop now! Take the rest off,” a drunken whine came from a corner of the room, “get to the action already.”
Aelis looked up, “What – “
“Ignore her, Aelis,” Rosalia interjected quickly.
“Who is that?” Aelis wrinkled her nose; she hadn’t even noticed the woman lounging in the corner with almost everything exposed.
“Nobody,” said Rosalia quickly.
“What?! I am not nobody!” Estelle had seemed to sober when she stood, swaying a little, “I am Estelle, the greatest healer in the kingdom of Weiselheim.”
“Also the greatest whore in the kingdom,” said Rose under her breath as she continued to finish the paper work.
Estelle either ignored the comment of failed to hear it as she sauntered towards Rosalia and Aelis, who was attempting with most effort to ignore the woman.
“A healer,’ asked Aelis.
“Aelis— ”
“Maybe you could take a look at these wounds,” Aelis continued much to Rosalia’s chagrin.
“Oh?” A shrewd glint entered Estelle’s gray eyes. “My services come at a price, darling.”
Aelis thought for a bit, “How much are we talking? I don’t have much gold.” The warrior spoke carefully.
“I’m sure we can work it out,” Estelle’s voice rolled out in seduction. Or perhaps it was Rosalia’s imagination. Nonetheless, she saw the direction the deal was headed. Estelle knelt beside Aelis, eyeing her, almost as if she were examining goods.
“No. Aelis. There are plenty of healers around…” Rosalia trailed off, unable to find reason through her panic.
“Let’s just say,” Estelle ignored Rosalia and licked her lips, “I perform a service for you and you would perform a service for me.”
“Aelis, no,” said Rosalia, pulling Aelis close, “I’ll treat them.” Aelis shrugged and nodded. Estelle laughed and wobbled into the back room, finding a comfortable seat to doze.
Rose hadn’t said a word during the entire exchange, pretending not to hear until now. “There are rags and supplies in that room.” She coughed and stamped the papers with a loud thud.
Aelis had begun to doze, and Rosalia had to rouse the woman to prop her up against the wall. She hurried to the back room, finding the rags folded upon an old shelf.
“It would be a shame should ‘your woman’ catch an infection,” a twisted smile snaked its way onto Estelle’s lips.
Rosalia had the feeling that the woman was hardly drunk anymore. But she froze.
“Perhaps an infection that would color the skin a putrid green? Or one that strikes a person with fever and delusions,” Estelle began counting off her fingers. She met Rosalia’s eyes with danger.
Rosalia took a sharp turn to look at the woman. “And you know just as well as I do that in the morning, I will have her at the local healer’s. Goodbye.”
Rosalia stormed out the room neglecting to hear Estelle’s next words, “Oh, this is hardly goodbye, Rosalia.” She tapped her lips, lost in thought, remembering the platinum-haired woman. Something about the two of them struck at her magic-honed senses as odd. “And Aelis.”
In the lobby, Rosalia had heated a kettle of hot water, pouring the steaming liquid into a large bowl. She was reluctant to wake Aelis, straining the hot rag to fish for more time; she looked so at ease. Rosalia pushed back Aelis’s side-swept bangs and wondered when her hair had gotten so long; it had reached her hips while Rosalia had preferred to keep hers at the conservative length of her shoulder blades. She reached and pressed the warm cloth against Aelis’s forehead, wiping down her cheek, cleaning her face.
Aelis’s long lashed eyelids fluttered before opening. Brown tinged with wine looked at her, dazed, as an instinctive hand reached up to grab hers. And since when, thought Rosalia, had a simple touch been able to make her heart skip? When had she started to imagine that the looks Aelis gave her meant something more?
As soon as the thought entered her mind, they vanished when, Aelis bolted straight up, cringing at opening her wound. “Where are Harry and Serdic?!”
Rosalia blinked. “Who?”
Aelis looked around with frantic panic in her eyes. “Harry and Serdic – my party. They’re not here.”
“No one was with you,” Rosalia frowned.
Aelis paled and Rosalia could only wonder what the look of guilt was about.
“Bah,” Rose grunted, “they’ll be fine. Prolly home with their families or bitches.”
“What do you mean?” Aelis said slowly.
Rose continued, “You already saw that the rock they gave you is a crystal. It’s an old legend – don’t ask me if it’s true.” Rose filed away the papers she was working on. “They say the Witch of the Crystal had left some magic in these crystals. Of course over time the magic had leaked out, but supposedly they were good for scrying.” Rose paused, trying to remember the rest of the story and gave up. “And once all the magic from the crystals reunite something was supposed to happen.” Rose shrugged and went back to making herself comfortable.
Rosalia could see a thousand questions on Aelis’s face and doubted that Rose could really answer any of them. “Aelis, not now.” She coaxed Aelis to relax. “No doubt you’ll find out more.” Aelis nodded obediently. Rosalia took the chance to peel the blood-stuck tunic off, wincing at how the torn cloth stuck to Aelis’s equally torn skin. And even though it looked painful, Aelis didn’t make a sound.
Rosalia threw the ruined tunic aside, grimacing at the jagged gash that ran from Aelis’s collarbone to her shoulder blade. It wasn’t too deep, much to Rosalia’s relief, but it would scar. And it was likely that this scar would be forgotten or buried under the future scars to come. The thought made Rosalia frown.
“Is something the matter?” Though the question was serious, Aelis’s voice couldn’t help but hold a twinge of joke, her eyes glinting with laughter.
Rosalia said nothing, only shooting Aelis a scolding glare and proceeded to clean the wound, bandaging it afterwards. She cleaned the other two wounds in silence as well, and it felt an eternity. Rosalia placed the supplies aside, covering Aelis with the blanket she had before. She rose to replace the supplies into the room that Estelle seemed to have commandeered, but felt a tug at her skirt.
Rosalia sighed and turned, meeting a pair of concerned brown eyes. It was always a wonder how Rosalia couldn’t resist that look of silent “come here”. She knelt, sitting on her heels, next to Aelis. “Do you need anything – water, food –?”
Aelis pulled Rosalia against her and grinned, “Nope.”
Rosalia was stunned to silence. “You’re an idiot. You’ve always been an idiot. You’ll always be an idiot,” Rosalia grumbled.
“You’re so mean,” teased Aelis while shuffling against Rosalia to get comfortable.
“You deserve it,” Rosalia’s voice wavered. She turned away from Aelis, but her body still desired the feel of the other woman against her. “You deserve it,” she repeated, quieter.
Aelis’s usual playful smile faltered and faded. Although Rosalia’s face was obscured, Aelis could feel the tears as if they were her own. There was nothing she could say. Is something the matter? What’s wrong? Are you okay? All of the half-arsed questions seemed stupid and irrelevant. Aelis knew the problem and wanted to reach out to take Rosalia’s chin, to turn her pretty face about to face her, to tell her it would be okay. But something stopped her as she reached out. Aelis understood that she had no right to comfort the other woman.
Aelis turned to face the other way and pretended not to hear Rosalia’s soft sobs and closed her eyes. Sorry, her mind said over and over again, drowning out the sounds of the sniffles and hiccups, but her heart would always hear the silent drop of tears. Eventually, the pair fell into a black slumber unaware of the gaze of their companions – one in pity, the other in interest.
Through thick sleep, both Rosalia and Aelis heard a distant voice.
“So it seems that I had not the need to make my request, Aelis. I have high hopes for you.”
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