“I have to ask.” Asterious shifted a bit in the saddle, turning to Caramyn. “Ever since I met you, that damned bird has lingered around. Is it your pet or something?”
“Pet? No. Friend, yes.” Caramyn’s eyes flashed. “And he doesn't just linger around. He’s far more intelligent than you realize. Probably even more intelligent than you.” She wrinkled her nose at him.
“Shattered gods, I should have known better than to offend your crow.”
“Raven.” Caramyn corrected. “And his name is Nocthar.”
“Ah.” Asterious lifted his chin, looking ahead. “And did you acquire him yourself?”
Caramyn thought of what she could say that wouldn’t reveal too much. “No, not really. He found me at a time when I needed him most...and for some reason he's just always looked after me.”
“I’ve certainly heard of falconry, but you’d be the first raven tamer I’ve ever known.”
Caramyn laughed. “I’d hardly call him tame. He only does what he wants to do. And he’s usually right."
Caramyn recalled how much she had been through with Nocthar. Flying down to her from a branch above, he’d shown up for whatever reason after she’d killed Number Three, and never left her side since. He’d led her to fresh water and warned her of coming danger more times than she could count.
“He has always been loyal to me, and I’ve never had a reason not to trust him. I can’t say the same for people.” She fiddled with the reins in her hand, squinting to see the dot of blue in the distance through the other side of the trees.
"I can't say I blame you. People do terrible things to each other through hatred and fear. Which makes love and trust that much more precious…” He tapered off. “So tell me, is there still anything about me you don't trust? Or have I won you over completely yet?" Asterious shot a sly glance her way, riding past her into a swift trot and breaking ahead of her.
Caramyn urged her horse forward with a nudge of her legs. Frasya surged onward into a canter, breezing past the prince's horse. "If you have to ask, what do you think?" She made a lewd gesture as her horse whipped past him and she called out with laugh. "Good thing you taught me I don't need my hands to ride!" Nocthar soared above, his wingspan casting a shadow above as the horse picked up speed.
“Fair enough! But if I catch you, you have to tell me something about yourself!” The prince called out, pushing Alofreise into a gallop.
Caramyn did not know these woods, but she let the horse carry her as fast and far as she dared, dodging low-hanging branches and jumping small logs in her path. The thought of Asterious racing to catch her made her heart flutter as fast as the wind against her face. Like children, they chased each other, a game of cat and mouse. Not that much earlier, she had been so shackledby her mind, but now here galloping through this radiant forest and laughing into the sea wind, she felt her frustrations dwindling as she let them stay far behind thundering hooves and fallen leaves.
She finally slowed her horse up when she came to the edge of the forest, where she was faced with the vast expanse of sea stretching out beyond the cliff on which she stood. She drew a breath of balmy air, dazzled by the sight of the waves crashing against the rocky bluffs that encapsuled this great body of water.
As she stared in awe at the sight of where the forest's edge kissed the sea, she heard the hoofbeats of Asterious' horse nearing as he joined her on the ledge. As the prince caught his breath, Caramyn looked over at him, and couldn’t help but find his disheveled appearance comical—his normally neatly-placed hair, now disarrayed from the ride, a few bits of leaf sprinkled throughout, and his cheeks so pink from the cold wind nipping at his face. Where he once always looked so regal and somber, now he looked quite the opposite. "Did you hit a branch or something?" Caramyn asked through a chuckle.
"Or something." The prince ruffled his hand through his hair and pulled a twig out from the fastener of his cloak. To her surprise, Caramyn felt a genuine cackle rising within her, and she couldn’t contain it. She allowed a small bit of it to escape, but soon she had lost control and it grew into a roar of laughter.
“I’m glad you’re so easily amused.” Asterious’ tone started off firm, but he too began to laugh mid-sentence.
“What fun that was!” Caramyn beamed, reining her horse around to face Asterious. “It almost made me forget how terrible you are!”
“The feeling is mutual. Remind me not to question the bird.” The prince nodded with a dwindling chuckle to the raven now fluttering down to perch on Caramyn’s shoulder. Then the only sound that remained was the crashing of the waves against therocks below. They both watched, soaking in the last bit of silence and stillness as the air became heavy once more. For in just another day's time, they'd leave all this behind and march back towards the darkness. Back towards her home.
"You didn't catch me, for the record, but I'll grant your request anyway." Caramyn reached forward to stroke Frasya's mane. "I grew up in Dawnmire. A village so small I’d be surprised if you know it."
“I’m afraid I’m not familiar with it. Where is it?”
“In the northeast. Far from Felhold, somewhere between the hills and the sea. Known by few outsiders, andveryself-sufficient.”
“Self-sufficient.” Asterious huffed. “I suppose that explains you.” He gathered the reins between his fingers and rested a hand on the pommel of the saddle, looking out at the misty abyss beneath their ledge.
“Perhaps it does.” She said, watching the waves roll on the horizon. “Or perhaps it is the harshness I have been shown from the world. Either way, I have no need of anything it has to offer.”
“There it is.”
“There’s what.”
“The immediate push back. The refusal to accept that there could be anyone out there who cares for you. You’ve convinced yourself aloud that you are utterly alone.”
Caramyn snorted, offended, shocked, and bewildered. She turned her head toward him then, brows knitting. For a moment she was ready to snap back, but the words stalled somewhere along the way. Frasya shifted beneath her touch with a shake of her mane, as if sensing the change in her mood.
“I learned early not to rely on others. They only see what they want to see when you’re different from them. They assume because they don’t understand you that you’re something to be wary of…something…not good,” she said at last. “In a place likeDawnmire, one thing out of the ordinary and everyone knows before the next day. And rumors start. People start talking and making assumptions.” Her fingers curled into her horse’s mane. “When I left, I was fleeing from Inquisitors who finally found me. And though I’d grown up there—though those people had known me from a child—not one of them cared to help. Not one of them tried to stop…” She clamped her mouth shut. She’d said far too much. “All I’m saying is it’s easier to believe no one is on your side than to believe they are—and be proven wrong.”
