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Great.
I lick my lips, trying to find the words. I stare intently at the toes of my boots. “I.. Well, I think I’m ready. To bond.”
He doesn’t say anything immediately, but a tightness in his shoulders loosens with his next exhale. Nodding, he just murmurs, “Okay.”
“Okay?” my inner voice laughs, and I blink at him. “That’s it?”
“Yes,” Sunder responds. “Did you want more?”
Yeah, I did, I think. I remember how kind Bobble was during our cuddle session the night before. I shake my head, resigned. “What’d you want to tell me?”
“Basically the same. We need to mate,” Sunder says in a low voice.
But he doesn’t move to touch me, and there’s an awkwardness growing between us.
I chew my lip as we marinate in silence. What is he thinking?
This is definitely not going to work. I need him to open up about something. To let me in. To be vulnerable. I lean closer until our arms touch. No Chroma flows between us, as we’re both wearing long sleeves.
“You’ve never told me how you became… fragmented,” I prompt him lightly. I watch him in my peripheral vision, hoping for the side of him I’ve come to like very much. Sunder frowns.
“Malicryn had a reputation for cruelty, but I always looked past it, excusing it. She was the only High Elf Queen to stand by me after my brother’s mutiny. Informally, I became one of her closest advisors. The others in her court hated me, so when she had her private guard ambush me, they were more than happy to oblige.”
“What happened?”
With a shrug, he says, “I wasn’t powerful enough to face Cor’than alone. He’d already killed my other allies. All my friends. But when you bond your mate, the power between you amplifies like a reverberating echo. I told Malicryn I was leaving to search for… you.”
He turns those piercing eyes to mine. The intensity behind them turns my stomach in flips as I force myself to hold his stare. Finally, I say, “I assume she didn’t like that very much.”
“She didn’t. She took me prisoner and performed some kind of ritual I’ve never seen before. My last memory as Dan’thiel is the satisfaction on her face as she rammed a dagger into my heart. I woke up hundreds of years later somewhere else in a faerie body.”
Leaning my head on his shoulder, I slip my arm through his, grabbing his hand, and return the three quick, reassuring squeezes he’d given mine during the portal adventure. I can empathize with how trusting the wrong person can eat away at someone.
Chroma trickles between our fingers, and we each breathe deeply as the forest around us comes to life. The birds chirp louder. The green leaves practically glow. Sunder lets out a long sigh before opening his mouth to speak again. The air around us stills.
“My people need help. My brother enslaves them, torturing anyone who voices support for me. That’s what I’ve been told, but I haven’t been back since the civil war.”
“Did he try talking to you about it first? I don’t understand why he’d resort to a violent coup.”
His eyes fall to his hands, resting on his lap. He sighs heavily. “I think he always blamed me for Eyveriel’s death. Saying she had a big heart is an understatement. As the eldest, her tutors lectured her endlessly about politics and religion. The importance of factions and how to maneuver within royal society. They taught her deceit and manipulation, but all she cared about was the commoners. She had no interest in making bold moves against other kingdoms. If our people were safe, nothing else mattered to her. I think that ideology crept into my mind and Cor’than’s as well.”
He pauses, chewing on his lip. Like he’s forcing himself to push the words from his lungs. I wait patiently, letting him tell me in his own time. When he speaks again, his voice is so low I have to lean in to hear him.
“She wanted to educate our lowest farmers and provide free food and shelter to any in need. The people loved her, even though she wasn’t even of age to rule yet. We’d walk down the streets, and they’d greet her like an old friend. Informal and familiar. That’s very unusual in High Elf society. There are strict hierarchies and rules, especially between classes, but even more so among those who can channel. But she didn’t care. They were all her friends. She’d dine with them around the evening fire as if she also grew up in a single room farmhouse instead of the palace we lived in. She was the embodiment of love and acceptance. Like everyone else, I worshiped her.”
His words trail off, carried away on the subtle breeze. I watch him from the corner of my eye, waiting for him to go on. Finally, as words tumble out again, they’re hurried, as if pulling off a Band-Aid.
“We were all so young. So young. Cor’than and I were always competing. Racing each other, fishing tournament, wrestling matches. We even fought over the affection of a certain princess. I won that one, but the joke was on me in the end.”
My eyes dart to his, searching for understanding. The affection mixes with grief in his voice. My heart beats faster, feeling his pain tug at my heart. “What happened?” I finally ask.
“One afternoon, the three of us were out in the forest way too far from home. It was well past the time we should have been heading back. But Cor’than and I were arguing as usual. Eyveriel kept urging us to make peace, but I was too stubborn. We fought with magic and muscles for hours that day, much to her dismay. After glancing at the low sun, Cor’than conceded the match, saying he didn’t care anymore. He just wanted to get Eyveriel back to Valenfall safely.”
Sunder shakes his head, eyes focused inward. My heart clenches in my chest.
“I was a stupid, stubborn youngling. I still see it in my head, fresh as if it happened yesterday. My hand, knocking his aside. The puff of dust that floated in the air as I sucker punched him into the ground. Cor’than was a better elf than me back then. Enraged, our fighting continued until nightfall, when I finally beat him into submission for good. We were exhausted, mentally and physically. Our magic stores were depleted. Eyveriel healed our wounds with her Chroma as best she could, but we weren’t in any shape to ride all the way home.
“We decided to camp there for the night and face the repercussions from our parents the next day. We built a small fire and some shelter. It felt normal. Like everything would be ok. But when the wolves started howling nearby to signal a hunt, it was too late. Our horses ran off, and Eyveriel told us to run, too. She still had magic stores. We depleted ours with stupid adolescent dick measuring, putting us all in danger. She was strong, though, stronger than us. Stronger than a pack of wolves, certainly. So, we ran, knowing she’d catch up to us after she killed them.
