SWNOVELS Chapter 24 - the Breakfast
I woke up to total darkness — again. How did Ardanians live like this?! I had no idea wether it was day or night, if they even made a distinction here. I didn’t know how long I had slept, but I felt a little better. I was hungry, though. Starving, actually.
I glanced around, and noticed all the servants’ bedrolls had been removed. I looked over my shoulder, and was relieved to find Warrian still there. I contemplated waking him, but decided against it in the end. If these people had ideas about when to wake up, he’d likely be in on them.
I sat up on the edge of the bench, and stretched. I looked around the dimly lit tent. It looked a lot like it had the first day I’d been here, except Thoridor’s bed wasn’t there. I was thirsty — I realized I never drunk the tea the Queen had offered me, so the soup from last night was the last liquid I’d had.
Warrian stirred a little, and opened his eyes. “Serin,” he said upon seeing me, making my heart flutter a little.
“Warrian,” I replied, not knowing what else to follow up with.
Warrian sat up and rolled his shoulders. “Are you hungry?” he asked.
“Starving,” I confessed.
“Grab your coat and your Wisproot,” he joked, “let’s go get something to eat.”
Warrian stayed close to me as we made our way to the communal tent, and I was taken aback by the amount of Ardanians inside. They came in all shapes and sizes, were different colors, and had various skin textures, ranging from scales to full-on fur. I wondered what had made them need to shift so much.
Warrian took me to a long table on which different foods were spread out, most of them meats, and what looked like grilled root vegetables. Warrian loaded up two plates, and took them to a table in the back, that was mostly empty still. We sat down, and I sniffed the food. It smelled fine — not a hint of blood.
“Use the Wisproot,” Warrian pressed, “I don’t want you hurling up your guts in here. The cooks might take offense.”
I nodded, and took out a sprig of Wisproot, crumbling it over my food. We ate in silence, like the rest of the Ardanians around us. The food was warm, and filling, and although it was nothing like the food at home, it still gave me a sense of fulfillment, and almost belonging.
I immediately felt guilty about it — guilty that it was taking me so long to get back to my brothers, guilty that I hadn’t spent every waking moment roaming the grounds in search of another gateway. I promise I’m coming back, boys, please hold on a little longer.
“What is Myrtha’s role in your community?” I asked Warrian in between bites.
“She looks after the younglings, mostly,” Warrian replied, “reads to them, and such. Takes care of them when their kin go off to train or hunt.”
“Is that why she’s going to the Terrestrial Palace?” I asked, “to look after the younglings when their parents rip each other to shreds?”
Warrian shook his head. “The battle is for the unmated Ardanians only,” he reminded me, “no younglings or parents will be there.” Well, at least that’s something.
“So what will Myrtha be doing there during the Sorael?” I asked, assuming her going to the palace had something to do with the ritual. Warrian raised an eyebrow.
“Well,” he said, “she is unmated.”
I dropped my fork on my plate in shock, making a loud clattering noise. I ducked down in embarrassment to avoid the Ardanian eyes burning into me from every direction.
“Don’t tell me she’s going there to partake in the ritual?! She’s… old!” I hissed under my breath, as soon as everyone around me had stopped staring.
Warrian shrugged. “All unmated males and females must attend,” he stated, “I wouldn’t be surprised if you get called upon too.”
I dropped my jaw in shock. “What are you talking about?” I asked, “I am human!”
Warrian looked around, and then leaned in. “You are an unmated female, on Ardanian land. And by the look of your neck, Thoridor has staked his claim on you, making you one of his own. It’s better than being the King’s, I suppose, but you’re still claimed. Your only chance to get out of this, is if Myrtha opens up a gateway for you to pass through before the Sorael starts. Well, that, or one other option, I suppose.”
“What other option?!” I asked, before crumbling some Wisproot into my tea and taking a few sips.
“Well, mating, of course,” Warrian said, looking around the tent again.
“But I’m human,” I pleaded again. “We don’t mate, War. There is no sacred bond bestowed upon us, we just choose a suitable partner, and marry them. If we’re lucky, we find one that we really like, or even love, but that’s pretty rare.”
Warrian leaned back as he looked at me. “You mean you just… pick another human?”
I nodded. “You pick, or someone picks for you. Usually your parents, or the village elders. It depends on the suitors, mostly. If there are many people of the same age, there’s more to choose from, obviously. But in our village, it’s pretty slim pickings, usually.”
Warrian drained the last of his tea. “How about you, did you have many of them? Suitors?”
I looked at my hands. “I… it was a pretty good year, I suppose,” I said, blushing.
Warrian laughed. “I bet,” he said, “I bet all the males were begging you to pick them. What a concept — picking your mate.”
“Spouse,” I corrected him, “and you mean to tell me you’ve never had feelings for anyone other than your mate? Do you even know who your mate is?”
Warrian nodded. “Sure, I’ve felt things before,” he admitted, “one time, I had a pretty strong suspicion I might have found my mate.”
“What happened?” I asked carefully. “She was killed during the Sorael, right in front of me,” Warrian said dryly.
I gasped. “I’m so sorry,” I said, “do you think she really was your mate?”
Warrian shook his head. “I would’ve felt it when she died,” he said, “It would feel like my soul was being ripped in half. I didn’t.” Warrian got up, grabbing our plates. “Let’s go,” he said, “we need to go meet the others. We have a long way to travel.”