Duty and Destiny

Kicking, he had woken up from his insistent nightmare. He was back at the field fighting for his life. But the dream didn’t end with him being stabbed but Adalia. The dream always ended the same way, with him standing over Adalia’s withering body helpless. His heart was pounding as he shook and drowned in sweat. The dark terror of the dream writhed in his belly.

Archer felt a dull ache in his side, followed by a sharp pain. His body was still weak but at least he could feel something. He lifted his body up on his elbows and looked around the room. There was nothing inside that hut that he recognized. Nothing in there looked like a place he would frequent. It looked like a poor man’s home. His bed was made out of straw and the ground was of pure dirt. He could smell everything from there, the dirt the different scents of flowers and food. A low grumble from his stomach affirmed it, he could smell food.

He tried to sit up but the pain in his side was too much. Then he felt it. He felt the silver go through his flesh and bone, he could taste the dirt and the blood as it filled his mouth. He could feel Adalia’s arms around him and hear her desperate cries begging him not to leave her. He needed to get back home, back to Adalia.

“What are you trying to do?” A young girl sitting in a corner asked.

Archer had to admit his senses were off. He hadn’t seen her or even realized that there was someone watching him. She was sited in a dark corner of the hut, but his eyes weren’t used to this terrible lighting. He could tell it was a girl from the sound of her voice, but he couldn’t tell how old she was or if she was friend or foe.

“Who are you? Step out of the shadows,” Archer was careful not to sound too much like a prince. He wasn’t sure if the same people who had given him refuge, and medical care were the same people trying to kill him.

“I’m Lola,” the little girl stepped out of the shadows and Archer realized youngest that she couldn’t be any older than his youngest sister. She looked about six or seven years old. Her hair was flaming red and her wide eyes brown and curious. She had dirt on her face and mound of mud between her palms.

“Hi, Lola, I’m Arch- I’m Arthur,” he couldn’t tell her his real name, not until he knew where he was and why he was there. “Can you go get your mommy or your daddy for me?”

“Daddy’s gone hunting and mommy is getting milk from the cow,” she moved closer to him and offered him her mound of mud.

“No thanks,” Archer could still smell the scent of greased bacon frying somewhere close by. He was sure that there was an adult somewhere around. He swung his legs off the bed and took quick short breaths as the pain began to tower up against his determination. He pushed himself off the bed and was able to stand up for a few seconds before he went crushing back down. “Take two,” he mumbled and pushed himself off the bed again. This time he was able to remain on his feet.

“Can you take me to whoever is outside?”

The little girl nodded her head and offered her hand up to Archer for support. He was sure leaning on her tiny hands wouldn’t get him anywhere, but he took it anyway. He let her lead him outside, but just before he stepped out of the hut, he realized he didn’t have his sword with him. He felt naked and not being able to protect himself from whatever waited for him outside didn’t sit well with him.

But he let himself believe that whatever was out there couldn’t that dangerous. If it was Lola’s parents wouldn’t have left her out here unprotected. The burst of sunlight warming his face was the first thing he met in his new surroundings. His eyes had a hard time adjusting to the bright light. Through squinted eyes he could see about two dozen children laughing and playing around a pool of water. The sight of their dirty little face smiling, and giggling made him miss his own siblings.

A close distance away he could see a group of women around a fire with their pots and pans. He was sure that was where the sweet aroma of frying bacon was coming from. Further away he saw a group of young men with their spears and shield. They looked like they were keeping the colony safe, as if they were expecting someone to attack them. There was some kind of danger here, but it didn’t bother the children. Archer realized that the hunting that Lola said her father had gone to could as well mean scouting for danger.

But what danger?

Archer knew that the only people in the forests were the rebels. He didn’t understand why they hadn’t used him for ransom yet. Why they hadn’t strong armed his father into a deal in exchange for his life. But maybe they hadn’t realized who he really was. His guard was now up more than ever.

“Lola where is this?” he wasn’t sure what kind of answers she could offer him, but he needed something.

“Its home,” she chirped.

“Of course, it is,” he mumbled. “What else did you expect her to say? That it is the rebel headquarters.”

At the corner of his eye, he could see the same raven hair he always had in his thoughts and dreams. He stopped thinking, stopped breathing, and stopped time itself from intruding between one heartbeat and the next. It was impossible. She was here; the love of his life was her. Without thinking he went for her, hobbling until he got to her. He grabbed her shoulder and spun her around. “Ada- I’m sorry.”

The hair was the same as hers and from the back she could pass off as Adalia. But her face wasn’t as glorious, wasn’t as perfect as the love of his life. Her lips were full but not red. Her skin wasn’t as white as snow but brown, she was beautiful, but she just wasn’t her.

“I’m sorry. Where am I?”

“You are in the North,” the girl turned around and smiled at him.

Her eyes slowly began to graze over his chest that was when Archer realized he didn’t have a shirt on. There was a large bandage on his side but other than that, nothing else. He felt her gaze rest on his abs, and he immediately felt uncomfortable. He needed to get his answers and get out of there.

“Do you know the people who live in that hut, the people who took me in?” he pointed in the direction he came from.

“You mean Lola’s parents?” she said. “Yes, they will be back soon.”

Archer turned around and started for the hut. He didn’t feel comfortable going back in there with no one to welcome him, but he had nowhere else to go. He lifted his leg to take another step, but the pain froze him.

“Are you alright?”

Archer nodded, afraid that if he opened his mouth the only thing that would come out would be a cry of pain. But then he shook his head. No amount of training of male machismo would be able to get him back to that hut without any difficulty.

“Do you mind helping me?” He managed to choke out through clenched teeth.

“Sure, just put your arm around me.”

Archer did as he was told. Slowly they were able to get him back to the hut. Archer lowered himself on the bed and once he felt the soft straw come into contact with his body, he was relieved.

“I am never getting up from here,” he swore.

“Do you mind if I take a look at your wound?” She asked as she gathered the things she would need.

“Sure,” he mumbled.

She went out to get what he thought was hot water. He took the few minutes he had to himself to prepare himself for the pain that he was bound to feel. His mother always told him there was no shame in crying, but his father wouldn’t allow it. But Archer wouldn’t let himself cry, not in front of a stranger, especially if it was a woman.

The girl came back with a bowl of steaming scented water. She knelt down beside the straw bed and put the bowl next to the gauze and a leafy mixture. “This is going to hurt. You better hang on to something.”

Archer grinned back despite himself. His fingers curled around the makeshift bed post. He looked away as she began to peel away the bandage, a slight cool breeze whistling over the soar. Soon the painful part of the redressing would start, and Archer wanted to find something that would distract him.

“I don’t know your name,” he coughed out when the pain began to sting.

“It’s Fiona.”

“I’m Arthur,” he made sure he gave the same fake name he gave little Lola.

Archer waited to see her reaction. But there was no expression on her face that told him that she knew who he was. Instead, there was a sturdy expression as she gazed as his wound.

“It’s seeming to be healing well,” she mumbled. “You need to stop talking and get ready.”

She took the leafy mixture and lifted it to the wound. But before she could apply it, Archer moved away.

“What is that?” he hated himself for showing how afraid of pain he was. But he was only a man. Crown Prince or not, he was still weak to the same pain each and every guardian in this realm felt.

“It’s going to help you heal. Now lay still and think of something else,” there was an edge of annoyance in her tone.

Archer didn’t disrupt her anymore. He lay still and held on as tight as he could as his mind went back to his home and Adalia. But when the leafy remedy came into contact with his wound, he didn’t feel pain. He felt this cool sensation that not only covered his wound but seemed to flow through his whole system. Archer thought of Adalia’s soft kisses and the gentle hands.

He didn’t understand why Fiona said it would hurt, until the cool was replaced by a burning heat. When his thoughts left the happy memories and went to the last moments, he spent with Adalia. He felt as if someone was stabbing him all over again as he heard her desperate cries. His body curled in pain as he hissed out curses.

Fiona covered his wound with fresh gauze then got up. “In a couple of weeks, you will be fit to fly.”

“Fly?” Archer struggled to sit up despite the pain. “What do you mean? Can’t I fly now?”

“Whatever stabbed you barely missed your lungs. But it definitely nicked your left wing,” she saw the fear in his eyes. Fiona was able to tell that flying was a big part of his life. She gave him a weary smile. “Don’t worry; I’ll help you get your wings back.”

“Thank you, Fiona,” there was one other thing he wanted. “Do you have a pen and a paper, preferably a book?”

“Sure.”