SWNOVELS Chapter Chapter Twenty-Four - Ramiel
I imagine the sky is dark blue and filled with sparkling diamonds. There are probably no clouds tonight; there is a fuzzy breeze that sweeps over my arms, warm and faint. And though I’m unable to see, I close my eyes instinctively to fully relish the language of the forest.
Streams rush in the distance, softly trickling as though fleeing from an eternal aggressor. Leaves rustle above, clinging to their branches in their exaggerated response to the lazy wind.
Behind me, up a narrow staircase in Pally’s, Ronan sleeps. He must not wake easy, even with my clumsy clamoring as I left my bed. Ever since Ether had gone to her room, something felt off. I couldn’t shake the feeling, so instead, I concentrated on her pulsing, warm magical core at the end of the hall. It’s so distinct from the other ones, from Sylvia’s and Ronan’s and the other guests’ slumbering around us.
So when she left her room, whisked down the stairs, and fled, I knew I had to follow her. But when I finally made it outside into the warm twilight, she’d already disappeared along with her enchanting aura.
Has she finally abandoned me? This has been one of my worries since she suggested we train in the wood. In a place I’m so unfamiliar with, she could easily run away without fear of being found and dragged back to the castle.
I heave a sigh as I crouch, then sit on the inn’s stone porch. My feet settle on softer, looser ground. I lean over my knees and reach toward the dirt.
With swirling motions, I do my best to draw her magical core. Her center. Her essence. I’ve grown quite familiar with it since it’s the only thing I can “see.” The dirt sifts soft against my fingers, easily forced into mounds and shapes that I can only hope are accurate to what my mind sees.
As I create, my heart aches. She left without a word—is she gone for good? Why else would she have disappeared?
The lines and shapes work themselves into a maze, and I trace the pathways from the start to the end. It’s easy to not get lost when you know how something starts and ends.
My hand stops, frozen and hovering over the circular puzzle of tiny canyons and mountains. I drop my palm to the ground and smother the patterns away.
The wind changes. And on it, a sweet scent rides down from above. I quickly recognize the accompanying spirit, alive and bright, gliding ever closer to me.
Relief overwhelms me and my shoulders slump forward so my hands swing freely, brushing against the dirt.
Her presence moves closer still, and I can’t help but feel that she’s being cautious of me. She’s probably wondering why I’m sitting outside. Honestly, I’m wondering the same thing. If I’d known she planned to return, I probably wouldn’t have struggled down a creaky old staircase to hobble disparagingly after her.
She sits next to me, on my right. Quite close. Her body heat is like a growing flame.
“What are you doing awake?” she asks, her voice low and quiet. The caution I sensed when she approached me is also there in her tone, shivering under her words.
“To be honest, I wanted to follow you. I know that you left.”
I hear her foot patting the ground a few times, steady as a drum. She huffs through her nose and the thumping stops. “Yeah, I um... I went home. It’s not far.” Her voice turns playful. “Did you really think you could follow an elf?”
“Why’d you go?” I press, leaning toward her. She doesn’t move, but when our shoulders touch, she squeaks and flinches away.
“I- I just wanted to see Pluto. But then, there was a mage, and I... I brought you something.” Her words are all over the place, but I know she’s telling the truth. Perhaps it had been a more eventful visit than I’d thought.
“Pluto?” The elf’s name is heavy in my head. She’d left to go see him, not saying a word about this plan.
“Yes, well. I didn’t find him. Now hold still. I want to see if this works,” she says. The cadence of her voice goes flat as her hands grab my shoulders, twisting me to face her.
“What’s the this you speak of?” I ask, but she hushes me. Her hands leave my shoulders.
“Close your eyes,” she orders in a tiny voice.
Ronan’s words suddenly flash through my mind, reminding me that Ether has kissed me before, without my knowledge. Is she going for it again? Would she be so bold? Why else would she ask me to close my eyes, if not to avoid looking into them as she presses her delicate lips to mine?
My eyelids squeeze shut and my jaw involuntarily clenches. To think that not even a few moments ago, I’d been worried that my elven master had abandoned me... Now I’m preparing to receive a kiss from the creature, leaning forward with the full intention to accept her affections.
Accept? Does that mean I’m okay with it? More importantly, does that mean I’m just going to let her make that kind of bold move?
How pathetic can one get? First, I have no political power or training. Second, I’ve gone blind because of the misusage of magic. And third, I’m allowing a beautiful, ethereal creature to do something to me that no other being has done before. I may not know much about the ways of war and fighting, but I’m an expert when it comes to etiquette. Kissing isn’t to be taken lightly.
We sit in silence for a few moments, and I dare not inch closer, for fear that neither of us is ready to enter into such close intimacy. But my heart picks up its pace, impatient.
I’m not sure I want Ether in this way. We come from different species, yet I feel this undeniable connection to her, as if I’m being pulled by that warm magic within her like a moth drawn to a flame. Is it unnatural to experience this attraction? To have this sudden, unquenchable craving for her presence?
I sense her leaning closer to me, so I lean, too.
The heel of her hand rests under my jaw and I can’t help the shiver that shoots down my spine. This subtle touch alone is enough to coat me in sweat. My heart is a stone slowly descending to the depths of a viscous lake.
“Ether, I’m not sure I’m ready for—”
Something cold, wet, thick, and heavy globs over my eye: a paste that smells sweet, and at first feels frozen, but then starts to burn like something acidic.
I push her hand away and stand, grunting as the pain seeps through my eyelid and attacks my eye.
“What did you do? Are you trying to kill me?” I cry, rubbing the paste from my eyelid. This seems to force more of it into my eye, sending a stinging pain through my skull. Tears track down my cheeks, confused by the foreign substance. “Agh! It hurts!”
Ether’s hand rests in the crook of my arm, and she wordlessly coaxes me to sit down again. She tugs slightly and I move with her, but the pain remains. I groan.
“Shh,” the elf coos.
I take in deep breaths. “It burns.”
“I know. If I told you that from the beginning, would you have let me do this?”
“Of course!” I huff, tossing my arms in frustration. “I’d rather have known what you were doing! You had me thinking a million different things just now.”
She’s quiet for a second. When she speaks, her voice comes out stiff. “I’ve brought a healing ointment. I witnessed it being used to cure the blind, so I wanted to see if it works on you.”
I bite my cheek as the reality of the situation sets in. She wasn’t trying to kill me, nor was she trying to kiss me. I’d been silly to conclude one or the other when there had been a clear alternate answer present in her steady, caring voice.
Heat rises to my cheeks, but I doubt the night will expose my embarrassment.
“Now hold still while I get the other eye. I will rinse the paste off once it’s set.” At my nod, her hand returns to my face. I shake off the flinch that reacts to her touch as she applies the ointment to my other eye.
It stings, burns, thrashes at my eye. Perhaps it’s even worse than her first application, or maybe I’ve removed enough of it that it has already lost its strength. I clench my fists and focus on my breathing as the ointment singes my eyeball, excavating tears from within.
Like a gift from Arioch above, a cool rush of water washes away the burning and drips to my chin, mixing with my tears.
There’s a change in Ether’s magical core, as though it’s lessened a little, and I immediately know she’s using magic to conjure the pure spring.
Her small thumbs swipe over my eyelids, ridding them of any excess paste. Once she’s finished, she scoots back a little.
“Open your eyes, Ramiel.” Her voice is soft and sweet and plays with the air around us. It’s filled with hope and a spark of mischief. Confidence bleeds from her words.
My heart thuds in my chest as I gulp back my nervousness, wet my lips, and open my eyes.
The world is still dark.
Ether’s hands are on my shoulders, and words are coming from her mouth but they all mean nothing. And if they meant something, I probably wouldn’t be able to comprehend their weight.
Thoughts flog my inner being. Hopelessness swallows me. King Azriel can’t possibly believe that his blind, illegitimate son can become his heir. He’s sending me to my imminent death. He probably has someone else in line for the job, just waiting to pull it out from under me. I’ll be made a laughingstock at the Feast of Undying. How could I have ever held an ounce of faith that I could prove myself to him?
“... and I promise you that sight isn’t everything,” Ether’s words are suddenly clear, and they’re kind, but they fill me with unhinged venom.
“Don’t speak of sight as though it’s something you’d be able to live without,” I seethe, choking on my words. I sound weak and pathetic, but the hurt is prominent, and I’ve kept it in too long. “Mine was stolen from me. It wasn’t my choice to never see again. Who in their right mind would’ve made this choice?”
“If I could, I would switch with you,” she says, not missing a beat. “But my sight is cursed. I’d be the only one benefitting from the exchange. Would you prefer that?”
“At least you can see,” I say through my teeth. I’m not mad at her, I’m angry with my situation. But I sense my frustration has begun to transfer into her words.
“You can see, too! Just in a different way,” she growls. A sharp sigh darts through her lips. “We can do this. I will not let you fail. So what if the ointment didn’t work? Magic is emotion-based anyway. We will find a way for you to fall a beast without a physical weapon.” Her words soften at the end, filling with hope again. My body loosens. Perhaps she’s right.
“You have a plan?” I resign, resting my chin in my hand. The burning has stopped—thank Arioch—but my face still tingles with lingering embarrassment.
“Yes, even before we started this trip.” Her voice drops to a low murmur. “We can get to Hearthstrom by tomorrow, and you will start learning. You have no other options.”
I can’t argue with her. She’s right—I have no choice but to train, to prove everyone wrong. We haven’t any time to lose.
“Also,” she says, hesitant. “I know it’s sudden, but there’s something I’ve been... keeping from you. I didn’t see it as a big deal, really, but... I feel like it’s better if you know.”
My chest thumps to life, sending signals to my arms and legs—but they’re foreign signals. My limbs don’t know what to do with them, so they go rigid, unsure of how to react.
She’s talking about the kiss, my thoughts taunt me. I curse them for the wave of sweat that mats my sleeves to my arms.
“You know what, I think it’s fine if you don’t tell me. No need to let it weigh so heavily on your conscience,” I say, hiding my awkwardness with a laugh.
“No, I really have to tell you. Because I’m going to have to ask you to do it again.”
“What!”
Her aura moves closer to me, and I edge back. There’s no way she’s really going to...
“Wait, wait, wait.” My tongue sputters the words from my mouth. “Please explain!”
She halts for a second, just a short distance away. One lunge and she’d have me in her clutch. I’m almost certain I won’t be able to dodge her, even if I wanted to.
“The forest has restored my energy,” she says matter-of-factly. “As your master, I ought to share some of it with you until you’re strong enough to cultivate your own.”
“Sh-share?” I ask, flabbergasted.
She giggles—a cute, innocent sound—and I wonder why my father ever outlawed laughing in the first place. To suck the fun away from magical beings? To punish happiness? The sound is so bubbly, so life-giving, that it rings through the wood even though she’s barely made a sound.
I marvel at the musical timbre of her laugh, at its magical quality glancing between trees and humming in the air. This distraction disarms me, rendering me completely vulnerable to her attack.
Her fingers enshroud my wrists and her breath tickles my nose as she leans closer. The seconds seem to stretch into one long, excruciating moment as she gets nearer, still. I tremble; my elbows lock and unlock clumsily and my heart lurches into my throat. Though I can’t see her, I can imagine how beautiful and wild she must look, and I wonder what color fills her eyes as her velvet lips press soft against mine.
I’m lame to react—unalive and stiff as a petrified tree. Her touch is sweet, weightless, and perfect. She pulls away before I can process my emotions and return her kiss.
A warmth steals my attention, scurrying from my mouth down to my throat, and lands in my stomach. It writhes there for just a moment before it amplifies into a flaring heat, and suddenly, it’s as though a new organ has formed and settled in with the others. In this instant, I know it’s my magical core.
Her presence moves away as she stands, and I reach up for her hand. My blind grab is lucky; my fingers wrap around her small knuckles—they’re burning like hot coals. I hold her there as my heartbeat pulses along my arm.
“Ether,” I say in as steady a tone as I can muster. She must have done this in order to transfer the energy into my system, to make me stronger, as she said. But I can’t deny the beating of my own heart, the residual heat from her kiss numbing my lips. “I must know what color your eyes are, right now, at this moment.”
Her hand slowly curls into a tiny ball. “Why do you wish to know such a thing?”
Because Ronan told me about it, I almost say, but I know better than to bring him into the conversation—they don’t seem to like each other very much. Instead, I squeeze her hand and try a different approach. “I noticed they changed color before, from a vibrant pink to a mellow blue. I hope I’m not too rude for asking.”
“You’re not rude,” she says incredulously. Her fist loosens and her fingers lift, repositioning to wrap around my hand. “I... I imagine... they’re probably brown.”
Red. Brown. Black. The three colors Ronan had mentioned. According to his explanations, brown reflects the most positive emotion of the three. Elves’ eyes turned brown upon seeing my brother without his mask, likely from attraction.
“I understand,” I say with a smile.
“You...” Ether inhales slowly, then sits back down. “How would you be able to understand?”
“Back when we first met in Edenburough, I saw brown in your eyes. A flash between black and brown, but mostly a dark, earthy brown.”
Even I’m unsure if this will be enough to convince her, so I continue, choosing my words carefully: “I suspect you heard rumors about my brother, Xavelor.”
“Of course,” she whispers, confused.
“His looks were unparalleled, enough to captivate any maiden,” I go on, half-cringing at my praise. Part of me wishes to tell her about his bloody history with elves, but this doesn’t seem like the time. “However, it’s clear that you thought I was the crown prince that day.”
A beat of tense silence passes between us.
“Okay,” she finally squeaks, “you’re right. I thought you were Xavelor. I... thought you lied to me, to get me on your side.”
Have I said too much? Her hand is still in mine, growing hotter by the second. I move to release it, but a slight movement in her fingers keeps mine there. She must not be upset.
“But you’re Ramiel,” she whispers. “You always have been.”
Her words are barely audible, so I can get away with pretending not to hear them for fear that I’ll give myself away. Still, my heart betrays me, pounding loudly in my chest.
She recognizes me for who I am, not for who I’ve been told to be. This isn’t the first time someone has made me feel this way: Bernadette has always been genuine with me as my own mother had been. There’s just something about Ether’s words that strikes me in a different, unfamiliar way.
The heat returns to my lips—I swear I’ve been put under a spell.
I want to kiss her. For real. Not for a transfer of energy, but for... I don’t know... for something immaterial, for something completely illogical. For something that doesn’t make any sense, but for some reason, I can’t think of any other explanation.
A stupid grin hinges on my cheeks.
Ether understands me. She sees me. An elf sees beyond my human imperfection, beyond the terrible things my people have done to oppress hers—she views me in a positive light even though her natural opinion of me should be anything but complimentary.
She stands, pulling me up with her and out of my fuzzy thoughts.
“Come, let me walk you back inside. You’ll want to be well-rested for the journey tomorrow,” she says softly. Her steady confidence returns to her voice, somehow calm after our conversation. For an emotionally transparent being, she’s mastered the art of concealing her excitement. Or perhaps... she really didn’t mean anything by the kiss. I think a part of me is okay with that.
“Yes ma’am.”
We walk inside, her hand in mine as she leads me carefully up the stairs.
My heart anguishes when she leaves me at my door. I feel a terrible longing to be next to her; it’s a horrid yet wonderful feeling. One that floods my thoughts with mush, leaving me brainless and empty, but also strangely anxious, which, to my surprise, makes falling asleep easy.
Exhaustion carries me away, clearing my head of all the thoughts that are running amok and tugging at my heart and mind. These thoughts solidify into a reverie of Ether, the beautiful elf with twin black braids and ever-changing irises. Her pointed, sagittate ears are pink from warmth and her eyes twinkle as they look into mine.
In this dream, she’s in love with me, too.