Break (43)

Coruscare strode quickly from the archives leaving Syll to continue the search for more answers.

He felt as though something in his veins was setting him alight and his sitting still only caused it to worsen.

Ever since he had visited Ventus, using Caeli's subconscious like an old bricked pathway, he could not stop thinking of the girl.

It had been so strange to watch her as a child inside of her own mind to find her a woman and dying outside of it.

She had seemed so carefree there, happy. Here she experienced fleeting moments of peace between excruciating ones filled with pain.

It had shaken him to see her body, almost lifeless, lowered into the healing pool. Her hair floating about her like an angelic halo, the linen of her dress becoming wet and pressing against her body.

He had watched longer than was necessary, even passing proper. It had been the gaze of the grove member that had pulled him back to the present. After he saw the shock on her face, he knew better than to stay and had left promptly.

No, she was no child. Not anymore.

And she likely did not recall the happy days of her childhood she spent with her biological parents.

He spoke with the horse and snake, they had given as much detail as they could. The gelding was from the same village she was raised in and bluntly explained the general distaste the townspeople harbored for the woman. So much so that they had blamed her for the destruction of their village. Her uncle and aunt having left her behind prior to the attack.

Coruscare was unsure of what to do about receiving this information.

He destroyed the village due to damning evidence that a black market trade of Folk paraphernalia was being sold and distributed there under the guise of a small unsuspecting rural town. Family after family of Folk traveled to the mountains, begging on their hands and knees for justice. Some having lost children to the black market, others having had their families graves exhumed for materials the humans saw fit to remove from their bodies and sell for various reasons, to various people.

Tale after tale was told of a child snatched in the night never to be seen again, the only thing changing with each telling being the families or the gender and race of the child taken. One family of fairies whose daughters wings had been torn from her body to be used as a trophy piece for a buyer. Another family telling of how their grandmothers grave had been found opened up, her body missing a portion of itself. She had been robbed of her head due to her prowess as a weather predictor, human farmers having secretly visited her in life, and stolen from her in death.

Broken families, torn to pieces by the inconsideration of the humans. Humans that damned and renounced the Folk in public, but hunted and coveted their greatest treasures in secret. After being mercilessly stolen of course.

It had been quite some time since Coruscare had interacted with humans and this time, not unlike the last, with violence.

Seeing the faces of those they had hurt in his mind, painted red with his anger, he flew south to the notorious village that had been mentioned with each complaint, and without hesitation, burnt the entirety of the small town down, with little to no remorse at the time. And that was saying something on Coruscare's part. His temper often flared and he would regret what happened, sometimes just moments later.

But in the end, just another way he had negatively affected Caeli. Was it his fate to ruin the girls life? He was unsure. It was difficult not to feel that way. Each corner he rounded, the more questions answered, it seemed that Caeli always paid the price.

Yet the snake and gelding told of quite a few stories in which she had shown kindness and consideration to the Folk. She had even saved creatures of magic. His destruction of her home, his inconsideration for those it would effect, having made no change in who she was as a person.

He found her astounding and inspiring.

She had the makings of a great leader.

They had not spoken a word to each other and yet he felt he knew so much about her already. The gelding and snake were always happy to spend time to recall their journey to the mountains, telling stories of laughter and pain as they moved along the landscape. How she had taught herself to wield a sword, that she had spent countless hours studying botany and subsequently was able to use that knowledge to help their journey. They told of how she would become easily enraptured by an Old World book an older gentleman had given her before leaving the village.

That story had made him feel only slightly better to know that she had an ally in someone that had lived in the village. It did not, however, relieve him of his guilt and shame at what he had put her through because of his actions. Not when it came to the village, nor when it came to her parents.

The snake had disclosed that her favorite food was fruit, firstly because of its taste, secondly, and more likely, because it did not require hunting small game. He mentioned that she had a very difficult time with taking life from anything, so she took only what she needed. In this Coruscare could see that she must of had some influence from the Folk growing up. It was a fundamental rule for them. It made him admire her that much more.

He listened raptly as they retold their stories and with each one a new fact would be revealed to him about the once mysterious woman that lie fighting for her life in his infirmary.

Over time he had made it a habit to visit the girl when he could. He would work through the night, often falling asleep at his desk. After waking to find that Syll had covered him with a blanket, he would then cover her shoulders as she snoozed at her own table, in the dark hours of the morning, he would go to the girls bedside. Most of the time no one was present. He would sit and listen to her breath and talk to her of his day, or even at times what he had on his mind. He had even begun feeding her on occasion, after offering to do so when he saw a grove member fighting sleep at her bedside. It had been one of the early mornings, just a few hours after midnight, when he had went to her in the infirmary. He had come upon a grove woman sleepily spooning broth to the girl.

"Are you quite alright?", he attempted to say quietly to the woman, hoping not to startle her.

To no avail, the woman thoroughly startled, accidentally tossed the spoon through the air and spilled part of the bowls contents down herself.

Coruscare had caught the spoon before it made it to the ground.

"Is there a reason you're feeding the patient at two o clock in the morning?", he inquired reproachfully. The woman looked wrung out.

"She is unable to eat solid foods, my lord. We feed her every couple of hours to compensate for the lack of nutrition she may experience on a liquid diet.", she answered, bemused. She had understood the question, and understood the answer, but her mind was foggy and she felt as though she was only half there, the other half sleeping soundly in her bed at home.

He watched as her eyes fluttered after a momentary bout of wakefulness in response to his question.

"I am able to do such things grove-ling. You need rest. Take yourself away, clean up, sleep.", he said gruffly as he gently took the bowl from the woman.

She nodded dazedly as the items were taken from her and she was led to the exit of the infirmary.

Coruscare had a tendency to let his mouth run off without his brain.

He recalled feeling this same way when he had insisted on carrying the girl to the pools.

*Where do I start? How does this work?*, he mused to himself.

He sat quietly for a moment beside the woman, after awhile spooning small amounts of broth into her parted lips.

Syll said she was taking their medicines and their broths but did they do something to facilitate that? He had feared that she would surely choke, and realized he was not aware of how the grove prevented it form happening, until he watched as her throat did a subtle jumping motion.

She was able to swallow the broth.

He heaved a heavy sigh of relief. After a few spoonfuls, his confidence growing with each one, he had found it comforting. All of his life someone had cared for him. Not long after reaching adulthood he had been heralded as the deserving king of Ausia, and from that point forward, he was rarely allowed to do much for himself, let alone for others. He was slightly shocked at being suddenly aware of the fact that he had never cared for anyone before. He was sure that most people had.

He found it rewarding.

Eventually the grove members grew tired of walking all the way to the infirmary in the early mornings just to be sent away by the king. Within a few days, Coruscare would show up, a warm bowl of broth ready for him to feed the young woman.

He enjoyed this better. He had found himself almost bashful each time he had sent away the members. He was sure they found him strange, first the pool incident, now this. Much easier for them to allow him to do it from the start.

As he left the archive he found that his feet once again carried him to the infirmary.

Coruscare stopped almost mid-stride.

It had not occurred to him until that very moment that he was going to visit the woman.

*Your interest in the girl is passing into something more Coruscare and it cannot be.*, a small voice warned him.

He felt anger boil in his veins.

Why the very thought of it. Of course that was not the case. Of course. She was a child, a child of his dearest friends no less.

The image of Ventus begging Coruscare to help the girl flashed across his mind.

Obligation. That was what his inner voice had mistaken for tender feelings.

A pair of residents of the peak walked by the king. Both were of the elvish decent (elvish being a widely used term to describe a large group of people with similarities but with distinct cultural differences) their ears long and pointed. They slowed to precariously observe him, watching as he stood stationary in the tunneled pathway, seeming deep in thought one minute, shocked the next, and pleased the minute after that, all within the span of a few short seconds.

Their stares pulled Coruscare from his internal argument.

He gave the couple a curt nod and pivoted to go to his study instead of the infirmary.

They bowed in response, their concern evident.

He reached the rotunda and stood quietly at the opening that revealed a large portion of the continent to him.

He crossed his arms in thought for a few minutes before walking to the opposite side of the room. He turned and crouched, like a child in a foot race. With a flexing of muscle he pushed off, causing the peak to rumble slightly. His speed incredible, he had approached the edge of the opening in only seconds.

He threw himself from the edge and into the sky, arms wide, allowing the air to rush past him.

Ahh yes this is what he needed. He could do this for an eternity. Falling, and falling. Falling away from everything...

Just before hitting the ground his wings unfurled and captured an updraft. Flying low above the town that surrounded the base of the peak. His citizens shouted in excitement as his proximity caused dust and clothes to swirl in the wake of his wind speed.

Coruscare flew for hours, rising higher and higher, until he could not make out the fine details of his kingdom.

Once he had gone as high as he dare, he turned his back to the ground to stare at the sky, hovering there for only a moment, he then allowed himself to plummet, all the while watching the stars as their lively florescence dimmed with each second he continued to free fall.

*Why did you create us?*, he thought to himself, speaking to no one in particular, but knew exactly who he'd ask it of if given a chance.

He knew the reason, and it was not enough. If his purpose was to exist because the goddess decided it must be so, it was not enough. Not being King of Ausia, not protecting the Folk of the continent, important yes, but not enough.

Maybe the knowing was worse than the uncertainty. Or maybe that's what those who-do-know say to make themselves feel better.

He knew there was many purposes to his life, but he found a deep seeded anger at the creators. Why must one of his purposes be to cause pain?

He remembered asking himself that the day that Caeli's parents had died.

*Why must my only purpose be to cause pain to those around me?*, he had thought forlornly to himself, isolated in his rotunda after the cease-fire.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

It had been a handful of hours since the king had left the archive and was yet to return.

Syll started to worry. Did he decide to attempt the Catcher once more on his own? Was his patience spent on finding an alternative? Or was he out their torturing himself over his past?

Either answer brought great concern to Syll.

Just as she had been considering going off to find the young master, he came striding through the door.

He came in, looking worse then he had prior to his "break" he had taken.

Syll silently watched as he returned to his seat.

He offered no explanation and she asked for none. If he needed her he would say so. In the mean time she would give him the space he seemed to need. She decided that if a few days went by and the subject not broached, then she would approach the topic with him.

For now she would focus. It's what she did best.