Wicked is the Curse.

25 | Tactics

25| Tactics

Seeing a spirit was almost like coming home.

There was a comfort in them – like the weight of their souls pressed on her. Like they were friends that she had not met yet. A piece of familiarity that could follow her wherever she went in the world. But now was not the time to approach the spirit. A part of Aire still relied on the security. The people here would not bay for her blood if she revealed her Wield, but that didn't stay her wariness.

Aire let the dance continue to take her, her head tipped back as laughter spilled from her like music. No matter the pressing issue of the Pretender, no matter the moon-silver hair hidden under her shawl – dancing and music always seemed to push the worries from her shoulders. Long enough to let true joy seep deep into her bones and sow flowers that wove green vines around her bones and sprouted colourful flowers in the dark crevices of her insides.

Even as her skin prickled, Aire danced.

Even as flowers seemed to bloom from her palms, petals scattering to mark the path of her dancing. To be crushed under stamping feet; still Aire did not worry.

Eventually she had to stop, breathing harshly as she tried to fill her lungs with air. She braced her hands on her knees, laughter bubbling in her throat as she spotted Anluan and Siseal encircled by a dancing group of children. They were being spun, fumbling with the timing but their joy was infectious. Unwittingly, her gaze travelled to the Bloodbound.

Unbothered.

The people of Valherin kept a wide berth from his cage but they spat vicious words towards him. None of it seemed to bother him and as he looked to them with that inhumane, silver gaze, they balked. Aire found herself walking towards him, a bundle of curiosity rooting inside of her. He seemed to know me. He spoke as if he had known me.

His attention flickered to her, then settled, heavy and expectant. "I imagine this is a pleasing sight for you, sweet one."

"I imagined more bloody scenes for you." She stopped before his cage. The cage was large enough to hold him standing, wide enough for him to outstretch his arms and just brush the edges of the cage. And yet, he dwarfed it. It must have been uncomfortable.

Good.

"You've been thinking about me?" He asked, a slight prickle of goading in his tone.

"You say that like I would not have imagined crippling you a hundred times over."

The Bloodbound titled his head, perusing the dancing behind her. "Cearnain music is beautiful, is it not?"

"Have you much experience with Cearnain music?"

He looked at her, something dark and secret in his gaze. His secrets would bury under her skin like thorns and root there. Aire knew that and somehow, knew that he knew that. It was times like this when she cursed her inability to let secrets lie. She risked a step closer to his cage.

"You spoke as if you knew me." Aire whispered.

"Your joy casts flowers into the air. Your very emotion stirs the earth beneath us." Bloodbound Roark looked pointedly behind her. Aire turned, catching sight of a path of flowers that had crept from the first source of soil. The soil had spread, the flowers creeping even further. Her joy had done that. "Your fear rots the earth, could rot the very organs encased in flesh."

"You spoke as if you knew me." Aire pressed further. "Did you know me once?"

For a moment, there was such weariness on his face that Aire stalled. The look was so human, so raw. As if he wasn't a monster created to hunt her and her kind. As if he was just a young man, with blood smeared across his face. With bruises like dark storm-clouds against the stark silver of his crescent tattoos. "You are not ready for what I know, Aire Thielan."