Arcanum Bracchis: The Withering Rose, page 1
Arcanum Bracchis: The Withering Rose
Sapphire Bellatora
Contents
Title Page
Chapter 1 (Selen):
Snowfall
Chapter 2 (Selen):
The First Step
Chapter 3 (Selen):
Narrin Village
Chapter 4 (Ellian):
The Desperate Escape
Chapter 5 (Ellian):
The Seaward Journey
Chapter 6 (Selen):
The Witch of Rivva
Chapter 7 (Selen):
Menaces and Magic
Chapter 8 (Ellian):
The Port of Joys
Chapter 9 (Ellian):
A Kamaran Welcome
Chapter 10 (Selen):
The Crow’s Hunt
Chapter 11 (Ellian):
The Festival of Flying Flames
Chapter 12 (Selen):
A Reunion Long-Awaited
Chapter 13 (Ellian):
Sparks Leading to Flame
Chapter 14 (Selen):
A Warrior Reforged
Chapter 15 (Ellian):
Into the Mountains
Chapter 16 (Selen):
The Curtain Pulled
Chapter 17 (Ellian):
A New Destination
Chapter 18 (Ellian):
The Return Home
Chapter 19 (Ellian):
A Mask Removed
Chapter 20 (Selen):
The Journey to the Pinnacle
Chapter 21 (Selen):
The Trial
Chapter 22 (Ellian):
At What Cost?
Chapter 23 (Ellian):
To Be a Hero
Chapter 24 (Selen):
A Warm Welcome
Chapter 25 (Selen):
Battleplan
Chapter 26 (Ellian):
A Moment in Her Shoes
Chapter 27 (Ellian):
Negotiations
Chapter 28 (Ellian):
Immerin, the City of Embers
Chapter 29 (Selen):
The March for Dalias
Chapter 30 (Selen):
The Siege of Dalias
Chapter 31 (Ellian):
A Battle of Mages
Chapter 32 (Ellian):
Justice and Consequence
Chapter 33 (Selen):
A Promise Fulfilled
Chapter 34 (Ellian):
An Unbreakable Bond
Chapter 35 (Selen):
Flowers in Bloom
Chapter 1 (Selen):
Snowfall
‘I have failed. My duty was simple: to accompany and protect his lordship. But now I don’t know where he is or if he’s even alive. It all happened so quickly. The flashes of swords being drawn, and then she stepped forward. I urged his lordship to run, and I faced my opponent. Then I ran. I ran far away in the opposite direction, drawing any foes that were eager to follow away from his path. I remember the cold and the gentle snowfall when I made it out of the capital. I remember my heart racing and the frigid sting in my lungs as I kept moving despite my body begging for a break. I remember the cliff, and I remember her catching up. She was a fighter of such great talent that even I was hard-pressed. There was a sharp pain and a fall. I, the protector of the throne, Lady Selen Seneschal, was defeated.
Now I find myself here, surrounded by an aggressive snowfall. Where is “here” even? My whole body hurts like it never did before, and I can’t feel my right arm. Would it be so bad to lie here, close my eyes, and accept my fate? My body will go numb soon, and I might lose consciousness before that. It might be a peaceful end, don’t you think?’
Those were my thoughts then, and I must admit that I was about to give in to them. It wasn’t pain that caused me to jump awake, it was memories. I saw his lordship pouring tea and shooting me a gentle smile. He had no reason to do so, but he always acknowledged me. For one so young, he was always ever so kind and pure of heart. Then I saw the fear on his face as he ran ahead, alone.
‘He’s alone. He might still be alive. They didn’t get to him, and nobody knows of the passage. He’s alone! He’s never been alone before. He’s always had me to look after him. What if he needs me?’
These thoughts had made my choice for me. I couldn’t leave his fate up to chance.
I couldn’t rely on my right side anymore, but, despite the pain it caused me, I could still move my legs, and my left arm had enough strength to get me to my feet. There was blood coloring the snow all around me, and I did not fully realize why. I had to move and find shelter and, if possible, help. The pain in my right side got harder and harder to bear, and then I realized, as I grasped for my arm, that it was present no longer. My sword arm had been severed, but I could not spare a single moment to mourn the loss. With no sense of orientation, I began to plow through the snow. The blizzard was at its worst, and I was caught in the middle. Bit by bit, I removed the plates of my armor since they would only slow me down, and I said goodbye to what little I had left of my home in doing so. I stumbled, I crawled, and I struggled until I began to believe that maybe this was the end for me. My vision narrowed, slowly becoming an all-consuming void that ate its way through the frost. My left leg gave out, and then my right. I had traveled for gods know how many hours, or for mere minutes, I would not be able to tell you, before finally my consciousness slipped again. All I felt was disappointment and disbelief. Was this really the end of my story?
When I came back to, it was warm. The air was filled with the smell of a rich soup and a burning fire. I found myself in a bed of humble make, swathed in blankets and, underneath those, bandages. The light was dim, and I could see a shape tending to a large pot over the flames of a stone hearth. It made no sense to think him a foe, not in hindsight, but at that moment, all my fighting instincts and my fear got the better of me. I jumped up, ready to lunge for what few improvised weapons I could find in this small cabin. Pots, a hunting bow or its arrows, maybe an axe used to cut wood? Luckily for me and my savior, my legs gave out before I could take more than two steps toward any of my options. I fell to the floor with a heavy thud and was pleased to learn that at least a part of it was covered in a thick fur, which had cushioned my fall a little. The man who had saved me turned around and finally became visible. An older individual, maybe in his late fifties, with a well-kept beard of short proportions. His long gray hair was tied back into a simple ponytail, and his clothes were those of a peasant for sure. He seemed without worries for anything but the woman who now decorated his carpet with her face. I recall him rushing over with a frustrated sigh and saying: ‘You’re in no state to get out of bed in the foreseeable future, let alone fight me. I don’t know what happened to you, but I do seriously advise you to cooperate if you want to make it through.’
He sounded stern, but I could hear in his voice that he was concerned. He helped me back into the bed, and after tending to his soup for a brief moment, he took a chair from the small dining table in the far right corner, close to the exit of the cabin, and placed it next to the bed. He took a deep breath and began to look me over, all without saying a word. The silence was only broken by the boiling of the soup and the crackling of the hearth. I think this is what my lordship would have called an “awkward silence.” I stared at him, and he didn’t look back, as he was very focused on checking every part of my body to see if any wounds had reopened. He muttered a grateful prayer when he was done and then finally directed his gaze at me.
‘Well, do you have a name?’ Was how he chose to break the silence.
‘Who is asking?’ I answered. I needed to be careful. My unknown enemy’s reach could have been further than I thought. What if he just didn’t know who he was helping? My thoughts were interrupted by a roaring laugh, after which he spoke to me while looking me straight in the eyes: ‘Your wounds are those of a battle and someone who spent too much time in the deep winters of our lovely country, early and unusually strong as this one may be. I get being careful, but believe me: I would not take on a trained fighter like yourself even in this state. I don’t know who you are, but you can trust me to have no ill intent. I’m a hunter and a healer, and my name is Gerard. Gerard Veldin, if you want to get all serious about it. You need not tell me your name if you really don’t want to, but please do grant me some trust until you leave this place. Should it make you feel any safer, I will even hand you a knife you can defend yourself with. I promise that you won’t need it.’
There was something deeply reassuring about his tone. I had heard of him, too: Apothecary Veldin was known as a great healer in the capital until he allegedly grew tired of the constant badgering of the citizens to fix every small ailment and decided to leave. Honestly, I’d have expected someone like this to move to a different city to ply their trade, not to live such a solitary existence. I let out a sigh of relief and relaxed a little, which caused him to flash a gentle smile. At this, I finally decided to answer his question: ‘My name is Selen. I have heard of you, Master Veldin, and nothing of what I heard has shown you to be a man of ill intent. However, I like to be on the cautious side and would very much like to have a weapon handy, if you don’t mind.’
As Master Veldin walked over to the kitchen counter, quickly cleaning a knife, muttering something about not wanting to have chicken soup introduced to his cardiovascular system, and then handing it to me, he laughed: ‘You talk with some decorum, Lady Selen.’
I swear he was
I couldn’t help myself anymore. The proper introductions had been made, and I had questions.
‘Do you often get news here about the cities? The capital perhaps?’ I asked, sounding too eager for it to be inconspicuous. His demeanor shifted. He got back up to tend to his cooking, but his face and body language indicated worry and sadness. He softly spoke, as if he didn’t want to be heard by anyone or anything, not even the hearth’s fire or the snow outside: ‘Not much, I’m afraid, but I don’t live too far away. On a clear day, you can see the capital from the window next to you. I found you on my way back from my last hunting trip to prepare for what looks like a long and heavy winter. Even through the snow, I could make out fires in the palace. Over the sound of the wind, I swear I heard screaming. I don’t know what’s happening, but I’m afraid it isn’t good.’
I knew, but I dared not tell him. I couldn’t know how he’d react. First, I needed information, and I needed his skills. Carefully, but probably not carefully enough, I asked: ‘Have you met any other refugees?’
The man shook his head in response. He tasted his soup, and a warm smile appeared on his face again as he began to pour a fresh batch of his chicken soup into two bowls. He handed me one and gestured to drink it: ‘You need to build up your strength again. This will keep you warm and healthy. For the next few days, I expect more intense snow like this, and you will remain here.’
‘I cannot!’ I protested with his lordship’s safety first and foremost in my mind. He shook his head: ‘You fighter types are all the same. Let me put it differently: even if you wanted to leave, you wouldn’t make it further than my doorstep. You have several cases of frostbite that will luckily fully heal with time, you are covered in scars and bruises, in addition to having taken some serious damage to your leg from what I assume to be a fall that was, thank the gods, largely broken by a blanket of snow. That’s not to mention your biggest issue.’
When he said that final bit, he gestured at my armless right side. The arm had been severed, shoulder and all. A clean cut. Now the wound was covered in bandages, with blood having soaked through some of them. He gestured at the soup again, and I clumsily drank from it using my left hand, spilling some of the surprisingly excellent broth on the blankets. Apothecary Veldin very patiently mopped up the mess I had made and replaced the blankets. While doing this, he calmly explained: ‘It will take some getting used to, and there won’t ever be a good time to start that process. Best to get it over with now, if you ask me. I’ve cleaned your wound and fixed it up as best I could. If you don’t get an infection, you’ll make a proper recovery. I’m sorry I couldn’t do more.’
I shook my head and thanked him both for his help and his care. He urged me to lie down again, and I had no choice but to obey, or I was sure he would give me another lecture. When I had finished my soup, he took the bowl away and practically demanded I sleep.
‘What of you? I see only one bed here.’ I asked, not wanting to be completely devoid of care despite being largely focused on my predicament. He smiled: ‘You’re a rare kind, you know? Not many would lose a limb and still worry about someone else’s sleep first and foremost. If there were more folk like yourself in the capital, perhaps I would have stayed there. No, don’t worry about me. I may not have a spare bed, but I have spare pillows and blankets, and I can make due just fine with my loyal friend over there!’
He proudly gestured at a green armchair next to the hearth that I had not yet noticed. It was clearly handmade but by no means of poor quality. It looked quite comfortable, in fact. Master Veldin settled himself into the chair and began what I assume to have been a very uncomfortable, wakeful sleep, interrupted often by him getting up to check on me. I’d have told him to stop, but exhaustion took over after the second check-up, and I fell into a deep sleep. I did not care that it had only been dark for an hour or two. All I felt was the purest exhaustion. There were no dreams or nightmares, just a sense of peace and safety.
When I awoke the next morning, the apothecary was snoring loudly in his armchair, having lost his fight to stay awake. Outside the window beside my bed, I could see the blizzard still raging. The old man’s predictions were correct. Next to me, on a small table, I found some biscuits, dried fruit, and what was now a cold cup of tea. It was put there at least an hour ago, from what I could tell.
My memories of what had happened began slowly coming back to me now that I had been given the chance to finally rest. The worst of my ordeal had passed, I thought, but even then, I felt my journey had just begun.
After I politely finished the cold tea, which was apparently at one point a cherry tea and was nowhere near as bad as I feared, Master Veldin stopped his snoring and awoke.
‘Did you manage to sleep at least a little?’ I welcomed him into the day with. He laughed: ‘Not at all! I was afraid you might try to get up and leave despite my warnings, but I’m glad to have been found wrong. You do realize you didn’t have to drink that tea if it was cold, yes? I could have just reheated it.’
He gestured at the cup I had put down but a few moments ago, and all I could do was shrug, with which I meant to indicate I did not mind it either way.
‘I hope you don’t mind my asking, but—’ He started, seemingly trying to gauge if I was up for conversation. I raised an eyebrow and gestured for him to continue. ‘What actually did happen to you? Mind you, I’ll keep treating you either way. I don’t have a habit of turning away those who need help, but I’d like to know if I’m in any danger.’
I took a deep breath, and as I explained everything, the apothecary attentively listened, occasionally changing his facial expression to indicate that most of all this was news to him. This is what I told him: ‘I apologize for not telling you this earlier. If I may be fair, my mind was foggy yesterday. Even if I wanted to tell you, I probably could have only told you bits and pieces. I won’t lie, you might very well be in danger. I can’t know for sure, so please, once I am good to go, send me on my way. Not for me, but for you. I am Selen, as I have told you before. In the capital, I am known as Lady Selen Seneschal, the personal guard of his lordship, Emperor Mawen. I don’t know why or how it happened, but the palace fell under attack. There was no invasion, just sudden violence. His lordship was as shocked as I was. We looked through the window, and fires had started all over the palace. We heard fighting throughout the hallways, which made its way to us. I barred the doors, and before long, the hallway went quiet. A strong banging on the door broke that silence, and I urged his lordship to run for the hidden passage of the palace. I stayed behind to hold off the attackers, despite his protests. The door was breached with a powerful blast of some kind. I think it was magic. As the dust was settling, in walked a swordswoman clad in black. She had darkened plates of armor covering some parts of her body and what seemed to be a delicate set of robes underneath those plates. Truly, it was no outfit for a normal warrior. With a simple gesture, she ordered her minions to stand back, and she engaged me on her own. We dueled for a while, but I noticed she was gaining the upper hand. I ran and made it as far as the Starfall Cliffs to the south of the capital. She caught up to me and overpowered me. I remember a sharp pain and a fall, and then I woke up in the middle of this blizzard. More than this I cannot tell you, for I do not know more. I think the palace fell victim to a coup of some sort.’
Master Veldin looked at me and stared for a moment, clearly trying to process all this news. Then he answered, heavy of heart: ‘I see. Now I understand your eagerness to leave. So, Emperor Mawen still lives? Good. He’s so young and yet so skilled. To think someone would kill a boy who has just reached maturity.’
