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MillionNovel > The Dreamers of Peace > Chapter 31: The Quill of Destiny

Chapter 31: The Quill of Destiny

    Zander found Alfread inside of a large, two-room tent at the center of the encampment. Alfread and Asa were standing beside each other, leaning on a well-crafted oak table, pointing to various parchments, both holding quills and making notations as they discussed encampment logistics. Where and when to send patrols. Which positions to fortify with outposts. How to manage resource procurement.


    Zander observed unseen, grinning, as they spoke with familiarity and companionship. He watched the tilt of how they leaned, both toward each other, closer than was necessary. Asa’s hand brushed against Alfread’s as they reached for a document and shared a bashful smile. Alfread complimented Asa on each brilliant thought, calling her radiant. Her aura of silver light gleamed brighter each time they grew closer.


    Zander’s morose thoughts were pushed to the back of his mind as he beamed for his best friend. The scene before him looked like it could be from one of the love stories Alfread told on Telling, where two beautiful people fell in love and overcame whatever obstacles were bound to push them apart. Alfread and Asa were breathtaking and together they looked like a painted masterpiece. Alfread was tall, fair, powerfully built, and immaculately handsome, dressed in fine leather armor atop chainmail. Asa was petite, bronze, and divinely gorgeous, wearing a crimson and white robe. Her golden hair flowed behind her in waves like strands of Norali’s sunlight and her magical aura shone brilliantly as it illuminated and accentuated their beauty. Together they shone like stars in the night sky.


    Alfread sighed. “I left my home to help Leveria defend herself from the Celegans. Yet, I feel as though we work to hasten her demise with all this planning.”


    Asa’s hand went to Alfread’s shoulder. “I know,” she said, her voice a gentle reflection of Alfread’s lament. “Leveria is anemic. Another battle will only bleed her further.”


    This shift brought back Zander’s rage. He closed his fists and cursed the two kings who were responsible for all the bleeding. “Then let it end,” Zander announced.


    Zander’s sudden proclamation reminded them that other people existed in this world of theirs. Alfread and Asa startled, both looking like they were caught doing something they were told not to. Asa withdrew her hand from Alfread’s shoulder and leaned against the table. Alfread went a shade paler. “Zander?”


    “It is I,” he answered, grinning for a moment before his lips arched downward. He set his eyes on Asa. “There can be no more fighting. Adameon and Gideon have bled us enough. Let those vampires go thirsty. This war ends now.”


    “Yes!” Alfread agreed, mouth rising. “End it must. No more will the blood of the lowborn and the innocent be spilled for the kings in their high towers.”


    “How do we stop it?” Zander asked Asa.


    Asa exhaled and shook her head at them like she was a big sister babysitting her childish little brothers. “We cannot stop this wagon. We can argue about who pushed it down the hill, but we are so far down the hill that we cannot see the crest.” The elfin woman folded her arms over her chest and frowned. “The stalemate is broken. Last night was a beginning, not an end.”


    Zander gripped his locket. He refused to become Alexia’s enemy. “You command this camp,” he said, his tone trading sweet for sour. “Command us back into a stalemate.”


    Asa’s aura lost luster, shifting from silver to gray. “The Bearbreakers are going to rush in before the span is out. Sir Werner will eject me from his counsel and attempt to conquer Mirrevar.”


    “Might Wayn send Whelan?” Alfread asked.


    Zander tried to gauge Alfread, wondering whether he had deduced that Asa had been involved in a dalliance with the Bearbreaker heir.


    The cognitive-affectomancer lowered her head and shrugged. “It is possible.”


    “And he may be more tractable to your counsel?” Alfread asked, leaning against the table, crossing his arms.


    Asa’s light remained faint and gray. Combined with the setting sun, the tent was dim. Her normal charm and confidence were as absent as her brightness. “I don’t know.”


    “If he believes in his oaths, if he watches for peace, if he trusts your judgment that those wolves were Celegan,” if he cares for you, “he will listen,” Zander said.


    “Then let us hope for the son and not the brother,” Alfread said, his voice miserable.


    So, you are not blind, Zander realized. He tried to envision what Alfread must be experiencing, hoping that Asa’s former paramour—a handsome, competent, heir—be sent to Mirrevar. Zander squeezed the locket. It probably felt akin to your lover returning to the castle where her betrothed prince awaited.


    “I hope for a good night’s rest,” Asa muttered. She moved toward the flap of the second chamber in the tent. Asa pulled it aside, revealing a large bed with all the luxurious trappings of a lordling’s sleeping chamber.


    Alfread rose to his full height. “I believe in you, Asa Radiant. No matter the Bearbreaker in command, I will be by your side.”


    Asa’s aura flashed, going from gray to silver. Zander had to shield his eyes, before it returned to its baseline luminosity.


    The master cognitive-affectomancer kept her back to them. “I am growing fond of that title. If only you were a king, Alfread, I’d be able to truly claim it.”


    Alfread’s lips rose into a fond smile. “Though I will never be your regent, I look forward to being the reagent that helps you shine brighter than the stars.”


    Asa’s aura flashed once more. Whelan Bearbreaker stood no chance. His cause was just as hopeless as Halius Sapphire’s. Zander and Alfread would prevail. Love would prevail.


    Asa stood still. Her voice was as dim as her light was bright. “Have a good night, Alfread.”


    Alfread’s eyelids looked heavy upon his half-closed seers. His lips twitched before he offered, “Until next time, Radiant.” Alfread bowed to his beloved’s back, with a well-performed flourish, and left the tent.


    Zander moved to follow him out into the setting sun. He prepared his rallying speech to get Alfread back in that tent and to finish strong. As he read it, Asa was all his.


    “Not you, Zander. I have a few more words for you.”


    Zander’s eyebrows arched. He held the flap of Asa’s tent open and watched Alfread cross the road to another tent. He wondered whether the witch would confide her interest in Alfread and ask his advice. Zander put a finger up to Alfread and his friend nodded. “This is ours,” Alfread called across the road, opening the flap.


    Zander nodded. “I will be there in a degree.”


    Alfread returned the nod and ducked through the opening.


    Zander closed the opening to Asa’s tent and strode back into the tent. He lifted his eyes to meet hers and froze. She was lying sideways on her bed. Her head was tilted, one hand on her cheek, while she supported herself with her elbow. Zander’s vision focused on the slight opening between her lips.


    He flinched, hoping the mirage would fade when he opened his eyes. His eyes betrayed his heart and left his mind confused and dazzled. The gray-lit beauty was still seductively displayed before him like wet sand on a beach inviting him to lay beside her. She patted her bed. “Come closer.”


    Zander stomped toward the exit. His anger shadowed by his disbelief. He reached for the exit.


    “No!”


    The desperation of her command left him with one hand on the tent flap. He shivered like a cold bucket of water had been dumped on his head. Asa’s desperation echoed in his memory, pulling recollections of Joyce pleading for him to stay the night and hold her until the dawn. He sighed, heartbroken for Alfread and for Kenneth’s sister. Zander gripped his locket and cursed Leverith under his breath. Why did women choose him when he was sworn to the Sunrise? Why did the one woman he wanted leave him behind? Had he not been devout and offered enough tribute? Or did Leverith have more in common with Zamael than he previously believed? No matter the truth of these questions, the certainty was that Zander’s faith in the Divine of Love was weakened and that felt irreparable.


    Zander gripped the tent flap and closed his fingers around it. He wanted to rip it off and roar. Why in Zamael’s burning Hells was this happening! He tried to steady his breath before chastising her for doing this to Alfread. He tried to gather the words, thinking before reacting, but articulation was elusive.


    “Come hold me with those strong hands, hero.”


    Growling, he rotated to rebuke her. The words were stuck in his throat. Zander stared, unable to process what he saw.


    Asa sat up on the bed, dim gray light illumined each slender edge and full curve of her sandy brown body. She twirled the rope that previously cinched her discarded robe and tossed it at him. She bit the corner of her lip, pressed her palms into the mattress, and arched her shoulders back. He marveled for several turns, his traitorous eyes absorbing every glorious detail of her. She gazed at him with heavy, hungry eyes, tossed her long, golden hair, then flashed him the most devilish smile he had ever seen.


    Zander ignored her seductive words and finally snapped free of his fixation. He turned his back to her, not trusting his eyes or his body. She knew he had a life’s mate. She knew Alfread was his best friend. “What is wrong with you?” Zander made a noise that was half grunt and half growl. “Are you truly this poisonous?”


    She didn’t call after him as he stormed from the tent, gripping his locket, and hiding his shame. He was determined never to allow himself to be alone with her again. He paced the road for a degree, before steeling himself to enter his tent and address Alfread. The tent was large enough that Zander wouldn’t need to crouch to fit inside, which automatically exceeded his expectations. Neither was it a large barracks to be shared with a squad, but the private tent of a knight and his squire.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    Zander entered. The inside contained two cots with austere bedding, two packs full of clothing that wouldn’t fit Zander, and a grindstone to sharpen blades. Alfread sat on one of the cots and nodded at Zander when he shut the flap. Zander claimed the open cot and glanced nervously toward Alfread. Zander’s best friend sat on the other cot, studying him.


    “What?” Zander demanded. His heart was quickened by dread that Alfread may have deduced what Asa had done or that he could sense how Zander had been aroused by it.


    “Where to begin?” Alfread spread his arms open and grinned. “I see two roads we can go down. First, Asa,” Zander flinched, “is going to suggest you for knighthood when reinforcements arrive from the Peacewatch. You earned it, Zander. Sir Zander of Mirrevar.”


    For most of his life, Zander dreamt of becoming a knight. One span ago, the promise of knighthood would’ve been the greatest moment of his life. Years of hard work finally fulfilled. Now, that dream felt hollow. Zander set his eyes on the gray canvas ceiling. “I killed perhaps a hundred Sapphires last night.” Zander slammed a fist into the cot. “One hundred!”


    “Zander,” Alfread began, his concern not reaching Zander.


    “I honored my oath to serve the Bearbreakers as I pissed on my oath to watch for peace! I tried to protect my friends, yet River is dead, and I killed men and women that could have been my neighbors! Every time I see a sword or look at these hands,” Zander lifted his hands up toward Alfread, “all I see is their blood and all I hear is their agony as I cut them down.”


    “Zander,” Alfread repeated, leaning forward and reaching a hand across the tent.


    Zander’s voice gained momentum, rising in a crescendo alongside his fury. “The real enemy are these Celegans and here I am killing people that should be our allies! For what! So Adameon and Gideon can claim a few parcels of land!”


    “You are right, my brother. This battle further infected the wound that festers at the heart of Leveria. I believe that it would have been worse had we not been here, but that does not change this feeling that we have done wrong.”


    Zander tried to imagine what would’ve happened if he hadn’t been here. The Ruby encampment would have fallen. The Hometown Heroes would’ve all been killed and substantially more Rubies and less Sapphires would’ve died. Mirrevar would belong to Gideon Sapphire and the Sapphire would’ve free reign to raid the area around Urzport and Vidacas. Innocent lives would be in danger. “We contained the damage to Mirrevar,” Zander knew. “Yet, that does not make what we did glorious or good.”


    Alfread nodded. “Leverians who could have been our friends and allies are now smoke and ash. Your blade, my arrows, and my plans sealed their fate.” Alfread looked down at his own hands. They trembled.


    Zander sat up and exhaled. “You did the right thing, Alfread. Everybody in this encampment owes you their life.”


    Alfread grinned toward Zander. “How easily I could say those same words to you.” He looked up at their roof. “Why then are they so hard to say to ourselves?”


    Zander snorted. “That arrow strikes true.”


    “Aha! The curse of impossible personal standards. Ever has Alfread son of Evan and Zander of Mirrevar nitpicked themselves for perfection and excused each other’s imperfections.”


    Zander snarled. “While not seeing that we were just trying our best with what life threw at us.”


    “Yes,” Alfread agreed with a wink. “And your best, Zander, deserves to be recognized. Nobody can deny you have the skill of a knight. I would say that your feelings, your pain today, demonstrate that you possess the heart of a knight.”


    Zander looked down. He knew that Alfread’s words were true. He felt wrong for the wrongness that had been done and wanted to stop it from happening again. That was a sign that he was one with Leverith and not Zamael. Right?


    Alfread interrupted Zander’s reflection. “I prayed to Meladon today that we need not fight the Sapphire again.”


    “Divinedamned Meladon,” Zander cursed and turned his face to the tent’s wall. “He abandoned us. Typical king. He sits cozy in his Paradise while his children fight and die. Pray to Leverith. She is the only one that can save us from this war.”


    “Perhaps you’re right, Zander. Though it makes for a fine story, I am just troubled to think of how love can heal these wounds between the Ruby and the Sapphire.”


    Zander curled up on the cot, turning toward the tent’s wall. Head on a hard pillow and body beneath a coarse, woolen blanket, he closed his eyes and tried to find sleep. He put his hand to his locket and only felt heartbreak.


    “The other road,” Alfread muttered, six feet away. He slid off his cot and sat on the edge of Zander’s. Zander ignored him and kept his eyes shut, tears leaking out as he thought of Alexia. He managed to restrain any noise that would reveal his sadness.


    “What happened with Alexia?”


    Zander wasn’t surprised Alfread figured it out. All he needed to see was the locket once more around Zander’s neck to make the pieces fit together. Alfread placed his hand on Zander’s back and Zander broke. “She doesn’t need me.”


    Alfread squeezed Zander’s shoulder. “She doesn’t need you?”


    “Yeah!” Zander’s fury rushed out of him, boiling over the cold sadness that had previously smothered it. “For a while it seemed that everything in the world was right and would end up okay. Then, she took it away! Like everybody else! She left me at the foot of the Goddess! I wanted to run away with her or go with her to the Sapphire Kingdom to make Gideon end the fighting. Some oathkeeper I am!” Zander exhaled and the sadness re-smothered the fury. “I wanted to share her dreams. I wanted to be her sworn shield, her confidant, her life’s mate.” Zander choked and the mental wound he had previously bandaged broke open and bled tears. “Instead, she left me with the locket and a promise that we would be enemies the next time we met.”


    Alfread, being Alfread, fixated on the plot twist. “Alexia is the Alexia? Alexia Bluerose? The Second Great Wizard? You are in love with the Second Great Wizard?”


    Zander snorted and wiped the snot that blasted from his nose on his hand. He rubbed it off on the edge of his bed. “My Sunrise will always eclipse me. She has no use for me, so she left me.”


    Alfread was silent for a moment, his hand steady on Zander’s back. “I believe that someday she will shine brighter because of you and that you both have need for each other. I believe that all of Leveria needs you two.”


    “Tell that to her,” Zander spat.


    “I would if I could, brother.” Alfread massaged Zander’s head. That was Mirielda’s trick. Alfread’s hands were not quite so effective at it, but Zander allowed his attempt at consolation. He was hungry for any closeness and Alfread was feeding him. “Search your heart. Do you believe that she wants to love you or that she wants to be your enemy?”


    Zander remembered the magic pouring from his mother’s locket when he held Alexia. That magic belonged to Leverith and Alexia had created it with him. “She wants to love me,” he admitted to himself.


    “Remember that,” Alfread implored. “Remember that her love for you is brighter than the stars and more powerful than war. Remember that she too dreams of peace and your hearts are bound together. Remember that, in her dreams, she will be with you. This nightmare will pass. The sun will rise once more. You will be together again.”


    Zander reflected upon all the bad things that happened in his life: his mother dying, his father abandoning them, the Gemstone War, the battle last night, Alexia leaving him heartbroken at the foot of Goddess Hill, even Asa choosing Zander over Alfread. He was learning that even the beautiful love stories, like Mirielda and Evan, came with curses such as Evan’s crippling and Mirielda’s disinheritance.


    Zander lived in a world without happy endings, a world of war and agony, a world where people hardly got what they needed and rarely, if ever, got what they wanted. He lived in a world without justice where kings could live in palaces and eat plum pudding while ordering thousands to die fighting for a pointless cause. “Good people seem to have a way of never getting what they want, Alfread. We don’t live in one of your storybooks. To think that everything has a happy ending is a child’s innocence. The Divine Thirteen are cruel. The dreams of mortals mean nothing to them.”


    This day wasn’t destined to be the first that Alfread yielded a philosophical argument to Zander. “Yes, believing that everything has a happy ending is innocent and believing that nothing has a happy ending is equally cynical. Our lives are like stories, Zander. We have the power to author them, to live in a way that will give us our best chance to write our own happy endings. We may try our hardest to get what we want and still not get it. We are subjects of the Divine, of sovereigns, of fateful chance. Yet even though we can never control all the characters and the settings in our story, we can still write pretty good stories for ourselves if we are willing to pick up the quill of our own destiny rather than give in and let others write our stories for us.”


    Zander sighed. There was sense in Alfread’s words and beneath Zander’s pain, he believed in them. He needed to keep pushing the quill against the parchment until Alexia was back in his life and wearing his locket. She wanted to be with him but couldn’t. Zander wished he understood why. Half a degree passed in silence as Zander pondered and Alfread patiently waited.


    Alas, Alfread’s patience waned, and the lecture continued. “Leverith wouldn’t have guided you and Alexia into each other’s lives if she didn’t care. Your love will be the sunlight and rain that allows peace to blossom. That is Leverith’s plan.” Alfread shifted, both his body and his tone of voice. Where he was confident and composed, he became more inquisitive and uncertain. “However, there must be a reason why Alexia left you behind.”


    Zander was blank, but he held to every word Alfread said as though they kept him from falling off a cliff. Alfread didn’t ponder long, using his sharp mind to unravel the knot. “Imagine if Asa started the day by announcing to everyone that River’s killer was her new lover. Imagine that she ushered him into camp, fully enamored with him, and told you that you had to welcome him.”


    Zander shot up in the cot and glared at Alfread. His mind was back in the battle, trading cuts with Sir Aldius of Lelac, desperately fighting for vengeance as the camp burned and the Ruby fled back behind the tree line. “I would kill him!”


    Alfread smiled. “Aye. Now imagine Alexia bringing you to the Sapphire encampment this morning.”


    Zander’s heart pounded and his breathing hastened. The Sapphire would recognize him. He''d be attacked and would have to defend himself. Alexia would be tarnished in their eyes. He lowered his head. “She couldn’t bring me there. Not today.”


    “Yet, she needed to go there. To cross the river, to heal the wounded, to sow the seeds of peace, to rest and recover from her own journey. Now, if she had told you that she couldn’t bring you and why, what would you have done?”


    Zander snorted. “She tried to. Nothing was going to stop me from being beside her.”


    “Except for giving you the locket and telling you that she would be your enemy.”


    Zander exhaled and felt as though he deflated all the air that had ever been in his lungs. He sobbed. He nodded. He accepted Alfread’s logic as truth.


    “Alexia didn’t leave you, Zander. She couldn’t take you. Can you see the difference?”


    “I can,” he mumbled. This shift in perspective allowed him to hold the locket and look forward to the day it would be hers again rather than look behind him to this morning. He leaned into his friend and embraced him, one arm below and one arm above the shoulder as was proper male custom. “Thank you, Alfread.”


    Alfread held him tight. “Now, the quill of your destiny is in your hands. What will you do with it?”


    Zander leaned back and broke the embrace. Purpose rose within him. “Alexia returned to Sapphirica, to make Gideon Sapphire stop the fighting. I cannot sway Adameon Ruby, nor can I chase after her. But I’ll be here to welcome her when she returns. Until then, I will do everything I can to make sure she returns to a land that has been kept at peace. That is my purpose. That is how I share her dream, even when I am not with her.”


    Alfread nodded, misty-eyed. “And you are not alone in that.”


    Zander cried aloud and embraced his friend again. “You are the best friend I could ever hope for, Alfread.”


    Alfread tightened his grip. “You are the best friend I could hope for too, Zander. I thank you for your hard advice on Asa last night.”


    Zander felt a pit in his stomach and battled with whether to share what Asa had just done. But the embrace ended before he could muster the courage.


    Alfread stepped into the center of the spacious tent and held his arms open. “Life is a story, and we are the authors!” Alfread rose to his full height and grandiloquence. “I am the author of this story, Zander. In the next chapter, I will take control of my story and write the ending that I want.” Alfread headed toward the tent flap with the flourish of a professional showman, leaving his audience gaping in amused disbelief.


    “Alfread,” Zander called. Alfread stopped at the tent flap and glanced at Zander. The setting sun cast an orange glow, illuminating Alfread’s princely figure. If she were able to see sense, Asa would be the most fortunate woman in Leveria. “I love you and any woman with any sense would too.”


    Alfread nodded. “I love you too, Zander.”


    “Write your story, brother.”


    Alfread winked. “Brighter than the Stars. That is the title of my next chapter.”


    Zander smiled. That was the story of how Alfread’s parents fell in love, here in Mirrevar. Zander could surmise Alfread’s next move. He only hoped Asa would choose the panacea this time. Regardless, Zander wouldn’t give her the poison.


    Alfread left the tent wearing a smile that shone brighter than the fading light. Zander knew that the next chapter of his own story involved entry into the Hall of Dreams. At last, the long night was over, and, thanks to Alfread, Zander had found peace.
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