Heir to the Empire

49. Siege Preparations - Erdudvyl

There was once a time where the only noise Erdudvyl would hear as she awoke, would be the sound of the birds whistling or the wind humming and the trees creaking. Now, as she opened her eyes from hours of sleep, all that could be heard was the repeated banging from a vast number of carpenters working around the Ravenscourt castle.

The noise was an irritant, but one she was thankful to hear. It was not so long ago since she last closed her eyes with the lingering fear that she would never reopen them again.

Many moons had passed since she last stepped foot outside this cramped room with only a physician, Ethelston or that strange barbarian known as Aryya, as company. Erdudvyl wondered why Aryya felt it necessary to visit frequently. She never spoke; she just sat and watched as Erdudvyl struggled to recover from her life-threatening wounds.

Erdudvyl wanted to bombard her with questions, to identify the reasons for her loitering. Still, even if she had been fully fit, the dark-skinned Aryya had an unnaturally intimidating physique. One which made Erdudvyl feel like a dwarf in comparison.

So the two sat in silence. Erdudvyl with her eyes closed, Aryya with her eyes fixated on the Elf.

The physician was not much better. He repeatedly complained when she tried to move and then claimed how it was a miracle that Erdudvyl was alive. Well, if he understood the capabilities of a Sorceress, it would not be so much of a miracle.

Erdudvyl carefully rubbed her abdomen, her hand caressing the scar that had developed in place of the mark left by the dagger. Who was she kidding? It was a miracle that she was alive. The elf had used every ounce of energy she had left to hang on to the tiny thread of life within the first few days. If it had not also been the physician's constant care, however primitive his knowledge was, she would not have opened her eyes at this very moment.

Erdudvyl owed him her life. Not that she could ever admit owing her life to a human.

Except one. The man who captured her heart. A small smile gleamed on her face as the thought of Ethelston entered her mind. Erdudvyl carefully caressed her lips as the thought of their first kiss forced itself to the forefront of her memory.

How could she feel this way for anyone? Especially a human. One that was arrogant, foolhardy and brash, traits that were never seen in an elf. Yet it was him that had spent every hour of every day, when not arranging the defence of the city, by her side. Erdudvyl had her eyes closed, but she knew he was there, caressing her hair, reading city reports or sleeping like a drunken aardvark on a stool.

For everything he did that frustrated her, he would surprise her, or make her laugh in equal measure. When she wasn't thinking about saving the world or healing her injury, she thought of Lord Ethelston Darke. She was utterly besotted with him.

Climbing out of bed for the first time in many moons, her body ached as equally as her heart did. If she had not already been banished from elven society, to fall in love with someone so primitive would have sealed the deal.

Not that elven society cared or believed in love.

Her muscles screamed at Erdudvyl as she pushed herself to her feet and clambered her way to the door. Opening it ever so slightly, the two guards standing attentively by her door carefully eased their heads around to see the blue eye and shapely elven nose hidden behind the oak wood.

"Please fetch me someone to make me presentable," she asked. Smiling once again, Erdudvyl realised just how polite she had become around these simplistic people. For everything she had been told about humans, she felt more at home with them than she had ever done at Gryffinfall. Yes, they were primitive, yes they were destructive. Still, their compassion, their passion and their comradery gave Erdudvyl a purpose to a life that had only known servitude to the Deayitora Dominion.