Enchanted

by The Whiskey Spirit


Ch 72: Explain

Ashwyn stood before the door, a slight shiver running down her spine as her mind went to the one who resided beyond the threshold. A confusing mix of emotions held her body rigid, unable to flee the confrontation, nor move towards it. She merely stared at the door with an intensity that could not be ignored. Should anyone have witnessed her at the moment, they might have assumed she was attempting to burn it down with her sight alone.

Her ears were pointed towards it, attentive and listening for any sound that emerged from beyond. Even with her abnormally powerful ears, she could only pick up slight noises. Faint steps and muttering could be heard from beyond, occasionally a creak would ring out, likely the sound of him sitting down, only to begin pacing once more.

She had no way to know the emotional state of the man she was to meet. These mutterings could be him berating himself for what he did, or it could be the beginning throws of madness settling in. There was no way for her to know without entering the room she had found herself in front of.

A single paw stepped forwards as her mind turned to worry for his well being. That was the only step she took, however, as the worry was simply consumed by the rest of the emotions vying for her attention. She was paralyzed by indecision and that irritated her to no end.

She didn’t want to feel like this. She hated it. She hated the fact that she was afraid. Hated that she was still concerned for him. Hated that any of this had happened. She wanted to put all of it behind her and pretend that these events never came to pass. She wanted to open that door and settle things.

Another step and she was close enough to reach for the handle. She made no move for it, though. Her teeth grit as she glared at the offending part of the door. With one last concentrated push of determination she flung a paw up, wrapped around the handle, and pushed the door open. The room revealed itself to her, and she couldn’t help but gasp in shock.

It was a mess.

What would have normally been a pristine example of a royal suite looked as though it was suffering from the aftermath of some great battle. Bed sheets littered the floor, torn apart and scattered around. The desk was splintered and cracked, seemingly broken in half through the center, yet still standing. The two halves leaning against each other in a fashion that was reminiscent of two wounded soldiers supporting each other as they walked. Small cracked craters dotted the walls, and as she looked a bit closer, she could see that there was blood in most of them. Then there was the cause.

Aurick.

He stood in the center of the room, seemingly having stopped mid-stride as he turned towards Ashwyn and the door she had just opened. He looked terrible. His hair was a mess, seemingly not taken care of since he awoke. Slight bags could be seen under his eyes, detailing what was likely a restless night for him. The most alarming sight, however, was the blood that gently dripped from his knuckles.

As she watched him, a look of surprise overcame his sullen features. Inversely, at the sight of the man before her, Ashwyn subconsciously shrunk into herself, making her appear smaller to the larger creature. Upon seeing this, the surprise on his face faded, a slight frown forming on his lips and his eyes cast down.

Neither party made a move, they didn’t dare make a sound. Who could say how long the pair remained in such a state, but it wasn’t to last. Aurick was the first to make his move, but instead of moving forwards, he retreated.

Ashwyn silently watched as the man let out a sigh, his stature seeming to deflate in defeat as he turned away from her. Instead of continuing to pace, the elf moved towards the bed and sat upon it, a gentle creak breaking the silence as it supported his weight. He sat there, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands held close to his mouth, even as he stared at the wall ahead of him.

Ashwyn’s gaze departed from his form for the first time since she opened the door, landing on the spot just next to him. The moment was brief, and her refocused on Aurick almost immediately. He didn’t so much as move.

Hesitantly, she took a step forward, uncertainty clear in how she moved. Aurick didn’t even seem to notice. After a brief moment to make sure he wouldn’t act on her choice, she took another step. Then another.

Her movement was rigid, her body tensed, ready to flee the moment she detected anything was wrong. Of course, this was not of her own volition. In truth, Ashwyn’s mind was focused on one thing and one thing only.

Aurick.

The process was slow and arduous, but eventually, Ashwyn stood next to the source of her conflicting emotions. He could no doubt see her, but he gave no indication of such. He simply sat there silently, not moving in the slightest. It was as though he had been stolen away before her eyes and replaced with a lifelike statue.

Gracelessly, Ashwyn did her best to climb onto the bed without drawing attention to herself. She seemed to be successful, but she knew that there was no way he wasn’t aware of her presence. Even so, she had managed to seat herself next to the elf, her body tense and eyes wide as she stared down at the floor.

She had no real idea what she was even doing. Every fiber of her being told her that this was a bad idea. That she should just leave while she still could. And yet, she stayed. Silently.

It was as though they were doomed to repeat the same situation. Neither party moving, nor making sound. Simply sitting there, too afraid to make the first action. Luckily they were broken from the spell when one of them gained the courage to speak. It wasn’t long, nor was it very loud, but all the same, the silence had been broken.

“I’m sorry.” Ashwyn’s head whipped up, her claws digging into the bed at the unexpected noise coming from beside her. Aurick hadn’t moved an inch, but it was his voice all the same. She stared at him, her jaw set, even as she tried to come up with a response. She had so many things she wanted to say to him before, but now they alluded her. There was only one thing she could think to ask. One thing that pressed down on her mind.

“Why?” The word hung in the air, and she watched as his head lowered. She was hoping he would answer. That he would explain himself, but he remained silent. She wasn’t happy about that. Not in the slightest. As the silence dragged on, she could feel her irritation build. Broiling beneath the surface until it was just too much. “Why!?” She asked again, her voice bellowing out as she released all her pent up emotions in that one word.

Aurick still didn’t answer, and Ashwyn had to do everything in her power to stop herself from hitting him. Any fear she still had of him was unceremoniously tossed aside as anger and frustration took hold. Her eyes clenched shut as she prepared herself to verbally lay into the elf. It never came, as all the wind was taken from her sails when he finally made his response.

“I was married once.” The words were like a slap to the face. She hadn’t expected it in the slightest and any rant she was about to spew became a sputtering mess of syllables. Her mind needed a second to reboot, and once it did she had a feeling she was beginning to understand why he was so angry.

“What happened?” He spared her a glance for the question before answering.

“She’s dead.” His voice was cold, an undercurrent of anger slicing through the room. She had expected the response when she asked the question, but to actually hear him say it… “Her and my daughter both.” She was left speechless at that.

“Daughter…?” Her voice came out unbidden, but Aurick seemed to pay it no mind. He made to get up, a deep sigh escaping him. He took a step towards the window, looking out at the city that stretched out below them.

“They were taken from me almost forty years ago. Such a long time, and yet it feels as though it were only yesterday.” He clasped his hands behind his back, but Ashwyn could see how tight the grip was. “It was such a pleasant day, too. I was teaching Ina some magic. Nothing special, just something to help plants grow. You should have seen the look on her face. She was so excited...” Ashwyn could hear the pride in his voice as he spoke, even as he trailed off.

“Wh-what happened?” She hesitantly questioned. Aurick’s reaction was swift, a loud bang sounding out as he brought his fist down on the windowsill.

“The Ardenians.” He spat, as though it felt wrong just to say. “They were in a war with Jarak at the time, and my town just so happened to be in the middle of it. We were bloody fools! Thinking we wouldn’t be affected. That because we were unaffiliated we wouldn’t be touched. We learned our lesson the hard way when those Ardenian bastards staged a hostile takeover. The leaves were stained with blood that day. All because they wanted a base of operations that was surrounded by forest!”

Ashwyn was left speechless, completely uncertain as to how to handle the information he had divulged. Before she had entered this room, she had run through many different scenarios in her head. Some of which were completely outlandish, but none of them had prepared her for this. What could she even say? She could only sit there in awkward silence as she watched Aurick’s stiff muscles slowly loosen.

After a few moments, he let out a sigh and moved back to the bed, sitting down heavily. He placed his head in his hands and stared at the wall ahead. Ashwyn was just starting to get uncomfortable when he spoke again.

“Those changelings…” He said quietly, barely above a whisper. “The pods. They made me remember. They made me experience all those good times again. I was so happy. I knew it wasn’t real, but… I just didn’t care. I wanted to see them. Hear their voices again. Then you got me out and I had to face reality once more. I… It was so hard to lose them once, but to lose them again…” He was cut off by his own sniffling, and a hand moved to wipe the tears away, but they merely smudged them against his already slick cheeks.

As Ashwyn watched this elf break down in front of her, she knew she wouldn’t be able to stay mad at him. This realization was all it took to break her from her inaction. Without hesitation, the mare reared up and wrapped her forelegs around his neck and pulled him close. He only resisted for a moment before he gave into the hug, his face buried into her neck. She could feel her fur getting damp, and the uncomfortable feeling that came with it was soon to follow, but she didn’t mind.

Her Alpha needed her, and she would be there for him.