Swords of Isadren (BoyxBoy)

Chapter Four: Earth

It was Niallen that woke him the next morning, only saying Asman's name multiple times and then stating that some of the Guard were going to resupply and that Asman was to stay in the room until they returned.

Asman, being freshly woken up, only mumbled an agreement and went back to sleep after hearing the door open and close.

He did not know how long he slept after that, but he later woke up to Dahlia coming into the room and dropping off a bit of bread and jam.

Dahlia stayed while he ate and even if they did not talk, it was still nice to not be alone.

The bread was good and fresh, and the jam was sweet and tasted of mulberries. It certainly filled his stomach nicely, and made him feel overall better about his situation.

Sure, his whole family was dead and he was being taken to Isadren by a group of scary and attractive people, but at least they fed him sweet jam and made sure he was not dying.

Soon enough, Dahlia finally broke the silence by asking how his shoulder was feeling.

Asman furrowed his brows and gently rolled his shoulder, only to find that there was little to no pain. It was barely a dull ache, more so from sleeping strange than there being a large laceration there.

When he turned to look in the mirror to check the wound, he only found a scar sitting in the place where the cut had once been. Even the stitches were gone, and as he looked, he found them littering the bed. His mood spited almost immediately.

"What the fuck? Dahlia, what is this?" Asman asked with a panicked tilt, his hand coming to rub at the tip of the scar.

"Fae magic." She said gently and took the plate from where it was drooping in Asman's hand. "Niallen thought it best that your wound was healed for our journey. It is only trouble when you deal with such an injury while traveling."

Asman exhaled shakily and turned back to the woman, eyeing her with an incredulous look.

"How... Why would he do this? I was fine dealing with the wound. It kept me- It kept me grounded. I needed that wound, that was all I had to remind myself that I was not left unscathed in the attack." Asman huffed sharply and glanced down at the floor, tears gathering in his eyes. "I deserved that wound. It was- I cannot-."

Asman's breathing quickened as he continued to clutch at the scar. His only reason for allowing himself to live, gone, in just a night.

"Asman. Breath. You did not deserve that wound, it was painful, and nobody deserved what had happened to your village no more than you deserve to be in pain. There is a scar still, this will remind you of those who died, and how they would have wanted you to live. You survived, Asman. But that wound did not prove anything more than Felias is corrupt." Dahlia stated sternly as she sat down beside Asman, blocking his view of the mirror.

"I do not care. I wanted the pain. I should have died with my brother and the pain was my punishment for watching him die and then running like a coward." Asman cried out as hot tears slipped down his face.

"You ran on instinct. Because you ran, you will be able to get revenge on Felias. The gods have done this for a reason, Asman; you were meant to live and to tell the story of your village."

Asman sobbed angrily and stood, shaking his head and picking up his shirt from where it had fallen.

"I do not want to tell a story. I want to go home. I want to see my brother alive and only have to worry about whether or not the fence on the cow pen in sturdy enough." Asman frowned as his lip wobbled. "I never wanted to be involved with a war, or have to go to Isadren just to tell a story about my village being slaughtered to a Queen who could not give a shite about it."