“So you’ve said.”
“It’s unpleasant.”
“Remind me never to hum around you.” She laughs, returning to her food. For the first time since she arrived, she doesn’t look like she’s bracing herself for something. Her laugh sits easier on her than it did this morning.
The door to my wing closes behind us, sealing the coldness of the corridor with it. I catch her eyeing the chessboard on the table in the main living area.
“Do you want to play?” I ask.
“I would love that.” Looking down at herself before she continues, “I’ll just shower first, if you don’t mind. I’m covered in dirt.” I nod in response, trying to ignore the image of her showering that seems to have entered my mind. Elodie spends a decent amount of time in the washroom whilst I set the board up to play. She seemed happier today, covered in mud, than she has since she arrived here.
Strange.
I turn to the sound of her footsteps and look up at her. She’s wearing a long, loose top that sits just above her knees, a towel in one hand ruffling her loose, wet curls. I swallow thickly, looking away a fraction too late. She seems more relaxed than when she first arrived, a little less panic-stricken.
“I need to ask you something,” she says, her voice echoing through the room.
“Okay.”
“I was talking to Thomas earlier…” she pauses. “I said a word, and he looked almost frightened. He said I couldn’t say it here, in your kingdom.” I stop what I’m doing to meet her stare.
“What was the word?” I ask.
“Fire.”
I freeze at the sound of that word. A word so long forgotten, so barely used, it seems a foreign language now.
“Do you not have fire here?” she presses.
“We do not need fire. We have runes. They surpass the need to ever use flames.” I say, and it’s the truth.
“Runes?”
I gesture for her to sit at the table in front of me. I forget sometimes just how far away her life is from Greyhollow. The thought of a world without runes is inconceivable.
“Runes are a way of using the magic that runs deep within the earth. A collection of symbols and patterns that, when used correctly, can do many things.”
“Well, why can’t you just use them to grow this plant you all so desperately need?”
“We cannot create life with magic. We could enhance its growth, sure, but there are rules to nature that we must obey.”
“But that doesn’t explain why Thomas was so full of fear,” she says, moving towards the table now.
“Thomas is young. There are stories, myths really, of the Great Burn. It talks of a fire that swept through our land, destroyed all in its path. Our ancestors placed a rune, known as the Aethelguard, to prevent any fire from ever forming again. They wanted to protect it.”
“Okay, so it’s not like some special curse word that will land me in the stocks?” she asks, a small breath of a laugh leaving her lips.
“We don’t have stocks. People had poor aim. Too many knights were injured.”
She giggles, then, “I was joking,” she says. I smirk at her, trapped in her innocent eyes.
“No, it’s not a curse word. Many of the people are superstitious. They believe fire brings much evil. Not a curse, just taboo.” I admit to her. It’s been a long time since I have offered any stories on this land. I finish placing the last chess piece onto the board.
“Are you ready to play?” I ask her. “I know you beat Kael, but that’s because he mistakes confidence for strategy.”
“Are we still talking about chess?” she asks with a small grin. I huff out a laugh, and she beams at my response.
