Vassal by Sterling D'Este (reading books for 7 year olds .txt) 📗

the impulses of the creature residing within her. Etienne wished he understood why, if only to make this journey as easy as possible on Alphonse.

There was of course, always the option of trying a spell to bind or control her. He had brought with him enough supplies to cast any number of such spells, and there would be places to buy more along the way.

Still, the idea left a sour taste in Etienne’s mouth.

This was Alphonse. His oldest friend. He didn’t want to cast layers of thick magic around her, like a wild animal that needed caging.

Thankfully, these last few days had been so calm that he hadn’t needed to think much about what it would be like to ensorcell his best friend. They had made good time, and already they were entering one of the few towns on the border of Ingola and the Wildlands. It was much like the other towns they had been through, nothing more than a few buildings surrounded by farmland: a general store, a tavern, a tailor, a butcher…

Of course, the first place Alphonse went to was the butcher.

She stood in the window, staring up at the raw meat on display there like some starving animal. Was this the creature again? Etienne looked uneasily between Alphonse and the pork loin hanging from the storefront and put a hand on her arm to gently pull her away. “That’s not your impulse, I promise.”

It must have been a slow afternoon for the butcher because he walked out at the sight of them in his doorway, wiping bloody hands on his apron. “Is there anythin’ I can get for ya?”

Etienne tore his eyes away from Alphonse uneasily. “Uh, yes. We need a few weeks’ worth of dried meat…” He glanced at the loin. “Pork, if you have it.” Perhaps that would sate the shadow.

“Alright,” the man said cheerfully enough, though he was unlikely to make as much off travel rations as the fresh meat hanging on display. “Come right on in, and I’ll get that wrapped for you.”

Etienne followed him with another nervous glance back at Alphonse. Surely she would be alright for a moment or two.

When Etienne exited the butchery to find Alphonse in roughly the same place that he had left her, he was so relieved he smiled. Maybe their easy days were going to last a little longer.

With a lighter step, the mage wandered from shop to shop, buying simple bran and dried fruit to round out their provisions, a couple of small tents and furs for the colder mountain weather, and two packs to hold it in. Each time he turned around, Alphonse was nearby, gazing at the town around them.

It wasn’t until he sat down to add the maps, clothes, and herbs they had brought with them that he realized how long it’d been since he last checked on Alphonse. Etienne looked up, expecting her to be just over his shoulder or looking into the next shop down the way.

Only, she wasn’t there.

He stood abruptly, nearly turning over the supplies he had so carefully packed. “Alphonse?” he called, then again louder. A few of the townspeople near him stopped and turned to stare, but Etienne didn’t care.

He had to find her.

❀

The sun was bearing down on her, warming her skin; the breeze was flirting with her veil and hair; and Alphonse realized, or maybe it wasn’t her, but the shadow, the sickness, that it was spring.

And that knowledge thrilled her. Absolutely consumed her. Destroyed her. She had to be in spring right now —this very instant.

Turning on her heel, she simply walked out of the village. No one stopped her, no one said a single thing. Perhaps they didn’t even notice Alphonse walking in an almost dazed state down the road, towards the small forested area to the west of the main path.

Winding her way through the trees, young trees, she could tell from how the light filtered through their leaves, how they sang when the wind chased through their limbs. This was a young forest, naive and tamed. Groomed almost.

She hated it.

She loved it.

Alphonse walked until she found a small meadow, a clearing from the trees. It was filled with wildflowers, dancing and swooping and bobbing in delight that she had arrived. A little brook chuckled through the center of the clearing, winding left and right, teasing her.

Alphonse wanted to dunk her feet in that brook, to marvel in its crystal waters. She looked down to take off her sturdy leather boots, only to realize that they were already gone. When had that happened?

She didn’t care.

Drunkenly she wove among the petals, dancing and skipping and spinning as she raced towards the brook. It glittered in joy to see her, splashing in a carefree way. Teasing her. Alphonse knelt before the waters and caught a ripple of her reflection.

And frowned.

How heinous she looked. Her high necked gown hiding all that the universe had given her. The veil covering her hair, not letting the glorious wind tickle its fingers through it. How awful. How wrong. How sinful.

Hastily Alphonse straightened up, yanking the veil from her hair, wincing in pain as the pins caught her locks.

With that disposed of, she cast it to the ground and quickly pulled the laces of her bodice loose, hauling it off her shoulders and freeing her ribcage.

How much easier it was to breathe now. To take in the scents of the flowers and the sun and the moon and the earth beneath her bare toes. She wriggled those toes, burying them in the sandy dirt of the shore. What a fantastic sensation! How had she not done this before?

It wasn’t enough. All of her needed to feel it. To be connected with nature.

For too long, she had lived in darkness. In whispers. In shadows.

Now she had this body, a strong, healthy body.

Discarding her skirts by unbuttoning the back and stepping out of them, Alphonse was annoyed to find more layers. So many layers.

An underdress and then a shift.