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Chapter 20 – Fire Stealer
Metheus
I half-expected my wife to follow me to the fields early that morning. She did not. I probably hurt her more than I thought I had.
The Prozeus fields missed me. Some parts had gone dry, threatening to revert to their former arid condition. To how Arrowspear was as a whole. Without Razuku, the task was lonely. Of course, my other men and the farmers were there, but it was different without the jests and the howling. I realized just how noisy my friend could be. Without him, I could clearly hear the squelching of mud, the rustling of grass, and the suspicious howling of the wind.
Why was the wind sounding so loud? The wind was strong, but the temperature was high. Muggy. It almost felt like Mogochislenia when I first arrived there, before I laid my hands on the soil. Prozeus had supposedly moved towards the right direction – cooling down while the rest of Arrowspear still simmered. The middle domains of the continent practically boiled, but at that moment, my hands were full. My wife itself was a cauldron, and I was tempted to tell her who I was.
Perhaps it was time to admit that I had passions like ordinary men. It took a fire witch to make me realize that. She had awakened some feelings I thought I would never have. My body still remembered hers, as she had pressed it against mine the night before.
My men and I toiled in the fields for most of the morning. I was bothered by the cracks that I saw. I informed my men that I would be resting for a while. Eating my midday meal, I somehow missed even Cora. She would have been running about trying to make sure I was comfortable. Without her, I almost forgot the time. The sun had already dipped a little. So, it was way past the time for the midday meal.
“Your Highness,” a young man called Leetho shouted.
“What is it?” I scrambled to rise from the ground where I squatted. I worried that he might have some terrible news. Leetho did not usually call out to me. He was even quieter than I was and mostly kept to himself. However, while people thought of my silence as arrogance because of my status, they thought of Leetho’s own as diffidence. People could never strip away status when they interpreted a person’s character.
“It is a lot dryer here, Your Highness,” he said.
I walked on the squelching mud and noticed the changes under my feet. It was getting more solid as I approached Leetho. Had I been away for too long? I wondered if Queenspell would experience the same reversion. Did I have to be in the place the whole length of time?
It could not be. Something else was afoot.
“It’s dry,” I said wryly. “Leetho, please find my bag. I have something there that can help with this.”
It was a ruse. I just wanted him as far away from me as possible as I laid my hand on the earth. My eyes heated up as I did. Whatever I was taking, however, was not true heat. It was an illusion because I had not drawn much from the soil, and yet it was already as moist as the rest of the field.
“Metheus?”
The trembling voice was familiar. I turned to see my wife, pale and frightened.
“Luella?”
Did she see what I was doing? She must have, or else she would not look afraid. But why would she be? She had known it all along. Felt it. I just kept on denying what she had felt for herself.
“W-what were you doing?”
I walked towards her, boots squishing on the soil. There was no use trying to run for it. So, I patiently bridged the gap between the two of us.
“Luella, I was planning to tell you about what I am,” I said. This time, it was honest. I was indeed contemplating telling her, but it was a new feeling. A feeling that rose in my chest and gripped the rest of my body this morning.
“A-are you a fire stealer? Or are you the Ninurta?” she asked.
I narrowed my eyes at her. Where had she been hearing this nonsense?
“Ninurta? Where did you hear that word? I had not heard talk about it in a long time.”
“B-but are you? What are you?” she asked, embracing herself even though it was far from cold.
Finally, I was inches from her. She did not try to run for it, which I was thankful for. I placed my hands on her shoulders, and I looked her in the eyes. Her green eyes were wide. The fear had somehow abated, and there was hope there. However, I could also see the hurt.
“I am a fire stealer, Luella.”
“So, you were taking my fire from me, just as I suspected?” she asked, her pitch higher than normal.
“Yes,” I admitted, but I held her gaze.
“Are you afraid to hurt me?” she asked then. “Is that why you do not want to make love to me?”
