It was dark, and the woman had still not opened her eyes. Isel sat at the back of the cave supporting her on her side as Charine instructed while she and Siphos slept. He felt bad about falling asleep without realizing it last night; Charine was left to keep watch through the night despite her weak condition, so he offered to watch for danger and over the unconscious woman instead when he woke up. It was too dark to fully make out the features of the woman’s face, but the image of her expression as she was pulled out of the sea had ingrained itself in his head—it was as if he was staring at a corpse. Her features were soft but sunken, and her lips were oddly thin.
Isel sighed as he gazed at her face, trying to make out more in spite of the dark that swallowed the cave. He made no progress. Hours passed and his eyes adjusted to the lack of light yet he was still unable to closely examine her face. Instead, he could only focus on the rhythm of her shallow breath. His only job was to make sure it never stopped, and if it did he was to alert Charine. As the night approached its fulcrum a violent heave startled him from his thoughts. It came from the woman he was supporting as she raised her hand to hold her chest and started coughing.
Isel let her fit pass, and she remained in position while regaining her breath. Charine rose from one of the walls on the cave, groggily crawling over to Isel. She sat with her legs crossed in front of the woman as her coughing fit passed.
“How do you feel?”
There was no response from the woman. Charine sighed as she checked on her condition and frowned.
“You can sleep, Isel.”
“Will everything be okay?”
“She needs food, but we can’t get anything while it’s dark. Otherwise she’s fine. Responsive to physical and auditory stimuli.”
“How is she responsive?”
“Through her eyes.”
Isel looked down at the woman on her side before moving away slowly as Charine replaced his position to support her.
“How can you tell?”
Charine rummaged through her clothes before tossing something over to him. Now that he could feel it, he found that it was a dreadfully familiar stone tablet.
“I can tell because I saw.”
Isel grimaced. “I’ll leave you to it then…”
He slid the tablet back to Charine and crawled across the cave to lay down. His last conscious thoughts of the night were how he wished he could observe the woman more effectively, yet it would have to wait for the morning.
Isel was woken by Siphos’ violent shaking, urging him to wake up and face the world. He opened his eyes to face the roof of their shelter—that and Siphos’ face.
“Hey, man. We need you to stay here.”
“Huh?”
“Watch the girl.”
Confused, Isel looked to where Charine had rested the woman, but what greeted his eyes was a surprising sight. Instead of Charine, the woman was sitting with her back on the wall of the cave alone, a blank expression painted on her face staring towards her legs that were laid out in the cave. Her hands were folded over each other held over her abdomen. With the aid of the light of day, her features were far more discernable. The tone her eyes conveyed were cold and dull; that look made him uncomfortable, but he couldn’t pin why. Apart from her eyes, there was an impression of daintiness, or perhaps a sort of decorum that was unfitting of the world they live in. Her features were soft and understated, as if she was about to dissipate among the air.
“Is she okay?”
Siphos shrugged.
“She won’t talk, but she sat up on her own. In any case, me and Charine are gonna go out for food. Shouldn’t take long.”
Isel nodded and sat up. Siphos left the cave promptly, fully suited in his armor, and Charine was already absent. It was just Isel and the woman sitting in the quiet cave. She remained fully still save for her occasional breath and blink. She did not frown, nor did she smile. She only sat with her legs out on the cold stone. Isel grabbed a handful of the grass cushioning the group had been gathering and brought it over to the woman. He spread it out next to her to act as a cushion while speaking.
“What’s your name?”
There was no reaction. He tried again.
“Can you move? The floor is rough, the plants will help.”
Once again, silence. As he crawled back and forth to bring more cushioning he continued to speak and probe, continuously met with no response. It was as if he was alone in the cave with only a cadaver to accompany him. He came back to her side to lay out more cushioning, but realized her gaze had shifted as he turned to face her again . She no longer stared towards her legs, but rather the cushioning beside her laid out by Isel. A mix of irritation and relief came over him. Was she really not capable of communicating? If she could turn her head then surely she could signal yes and no.
Isel shook off the thought and followed her stare. Was she interested in the cushion? He found his answer as he followed her gaze to a bright red bud among the collected leaves. He had taken this specific assortment of plants from in front of her legs, and wondered if it’s what caught her interest. He separated the lone bud from the rest of the less vibrant plant life and held it up to observe it. It was pretty, but what good would that do in a place like this?
Isel looked up and almost jumped back. Her gaze was placed on the red bud he held at his chest. For the first time he had a good view of her eyes—a muted greenish-brown—that stayed ever still looking at the flower. She would not talk, would not move, would not communicate, but would turn her head to stare at the flower. Isel sighed and held the bud out to her. Slowly, her hand left the grasp of her other and gently picked the flower off his hands, bringing it up to her face to inspect as Isel had just a moment earlier.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
“Thank you.”
Isel almost hadn’t noticed her speaking, even though he was looking at her lips—they had hardly parted as the word left her mouth. Her voice was soft and delicate, as if her voice would break if she spoke with any more conviction. Isel figured he should take advantage of this opportunity to talk with her.
“Nice to meet you, and you’re welcome.”
She twirled the flower between her fingers, not taking her eyes off of the red petals. Isel kept speaking until he found something she would answer to.
“How are you feeling? You were unconscious for a while.”
She twirled the flower and squinted. “Sir.”
“Yes?”
She caressed a petal of the flower with a painfully straight face while she spoke. “Please, stop talking.”
Isel stared at the woman who refused to even look at him as she spoke. Words sat at the tip of tongue as he had an internal debate as to whether or not he should respect her wish.
“Then I’ll assume you’re doing fine, but can I at least know your name?”
The woman took a deep sigh.
“Arlea.”
“I am Isel.”
As his name left his lips, Arlea turned her head away from the flower, directing her hollow gaze towards Isel. Although he wished she would make eye contact, this sudden instance surprised him.
“May you repeat your name, sir?”
“Isel?”
Arlea brought her hand and rested the tip of her finger on her lower lip while she continued to stare into Isel’s eyes. He shifted himself away from her and laid his back on the wall of the cave.
Arlea whispered. “It’s really quite nice; it’s beautiful.”
“Thank you…?”
Arlea shook her head, still glaring while she felt her lip. “May I know, Isel, what is your surname?”
Isel hesitated. “Comeidlan.”
Isel wanted to back away more, but he was already against the all of the cave. She gave a breathy exhale before curling into a ball. She rested her cheek on her knees while still staring at the white haired traveler.
“You are quite the lucky person. Your names are indeed beautiful.”
“What makes you think so?”
“Hm? They sound lovely?.”
Isel frowned. “Is that your only reason?”
Arlea’s eyes widened ever so slightly. If it had not been for her piercing glare he would have never noticed, and he felt compelled to gaze back into her eyes.
“I’ve no need for more. Your name is beautiful, that’s simply the truth.”
“Well what is your surname, then?”
Her eyes softened and tore away from Isel as she looked for the red flower once more. She had dropped it after hearing his name, and picked it back up to continue observing it. “Blisse.”
It wasn't any of the lands Isel was familiar with, so it took him a brief pause to comprehend her name.
“So you changed it, your name?”
She nodded.
“It was awful before, a true horror.”
“And what was it before?”
Arlea ignored his question, looking at her flower with her unchanging gaze. Even though she was talking, it didn’t seem much different compared to when she had been completely silent. Her words still lacked conviction, her strict movements lacked life. The eccentric personality of Arlea distracted him from the reality at hand. She had almost drowned in the sea of Aeshval, and now she only had Isel and his group to rely on. As he looked back at her however, he saw no sign of this in her. She had no sense of urgency, and never asked for the help of the group.
Isel thought of what Charine would do in such a situation. She had already administered plenty of personal care, so what would the next logical step be? There was no way of knowing if her condition was actually stable, or if she was truly safe. In the case that she was well enough to travel to Loite, it might not be the best choice regardless. Something didn’t sit right with him.
“Arlea.”
She didn’t turn her head, but Isel continued regardless.
“What do you want to do?”
She stopped rotating the red flower with her fingers, and the cave once again became quiet enough to hear the shallow breaths of the two current inhabitants. Arlea brought her finger to rub her lower lip and stared at the dense greenery outside. “I don’t want to do anything.”
Isel frowned. “Would you come with us back to Manichae, then?”
Her eyes twitched. “And for what goal, exactly?”
He was reluctant to give his full reasoning, but he was urged on more and more by his conscience. He felt as if he had to act.
“You remind me of myself when I first woke up. In reality, I don’t know much, but travelling to Manichae might help me find something out, and it might help you as well.”
Arlea turned her head back toIsel.
“Is that so?”
She laid the red flower to her side gently while she spoke. Her dull eyes pierced him once more, though this time they had more intent.
“You’re a queer man, Isel. Do you think you might save me?”
He furrowed his brow. “That’s…”
“I seem to be a damsel, do I not? All I am lacking is an ivory castle.”
The way she interpreted his meaning left him to feel foolish. He raised his hand to stop her from calmly berating him with rhetorical questions.
“I… I would have offered the same to anyone. Also, you seemed to need some sort of assistance, since travelling alone without weapons could be dangerous here.”
Arlea picked the red flower off of the floor once more. For the first time since waking, she smiled. The small grin didn’t fit her face; the face of someone who would say such things and act like she does.
“And what might you wish for, Isel? What is it that your heart wants?”
He hesitated before answering.
“To reach Manichae and let my… companions handle their business. Then, I’ll go to Hourlal.”
Arlea rubbed her lip as she started to scan Isel’s face. “That wasn’t my question, sir. I asked you for what you truly want. You have proper goals, but those are not desires. Those are only things you wish to achieve.”
Isel looked outside of the cave. It was a poor time to think about such a question.
“I’ll find that out later.”
Arlea’s smile slowly faded, and she returned to her natural look.
“A hero and an optimist, how exciting.”
Isel was going to retaliate before hearing the sound of footsteps approaching the cave. He rested his hand on his weapon, even though he was sure he knew the source.
Surely enough, Charine and Siphos returned to the shelter. Siphos held a sack—one Charine had purchased another before leaving Eutil—over his shoulder. Arlea did not bother to look at either of them as they entered the cave, and instead picked the small red flower back off of the floor. Charine’s eyes widened slightly as she saw her move before turning to Isel.
“Can she talk?”
Isel nodded.
Charine sat in front of the blond woman and spoke firmly. Isel anticipated her answer and prepared himself. “We’re taking you back to Eutil.”
Isel bit his lip. This conclusion didn’t sit right with him, and so he felt tempted to argue. Arlea faced him before turning back to Charine.
“But I would like to go to Manichae, ma’am.”
Charine shook her head. “It’s too much of a risk, you’re too weak to not be a detriment.”
Siphos’ voice came from behind Charine. “I think we can take her.”
Charine turned to him slowly. He was now sitting on the ground, unpacking cooked meat and fruit from the sack.
“It wouldn't be safe, and you’re a special case. You’re armored and can fight decently. She’s hungry and was unconscious in the sea for a time we’re unaware of.”
“It’s safer because I’m here. It’s not as efficient to travel with her, sure, but we have two armed people and this armor.”
Charine frowned, both Siphos and her were at an impasse. She turned over to face Isel, clearly asking for his input. He scratched the back of his head while reluctantly answering.
“I would rather take her with us.”
Charine sighed. She looked around and put her hand on her forehead. Then, she walked out of the cave while mumbling. “I need to think.”
And the cave was silent again.
