Nova nodded, but said nothing further. Odin watched his friend, waiting for any sign of indifference, then turned to look at his knight master, no longer wondering why he had spent so many long hours at the house. Here—in this grand, luxurious mansion—he could not only rest and talk in comfort, but be himself as well.
Now that he thought about it, maybe that was what Miko truly desired—to walk around and talk freely, unafraid of what someone else might say, think or do.
“Odin,” Hakua said, immediately drawing his attention away from the Elf. “Your master said you came from Felnon. Is that right?”
“Yes sir,” he said. “I grew up there with my father.”
“I’ve heard it’s a truly beautiful place.”
“It is,” Odin smiled. “It’s surrounded by trees on all sides, there’s hills you can climb up and sit on to look at the whole village, streams where you can fish and forests filled with game. It’s… well… hard to describe, but it’s like the trees there are greener,
brighter
than anything else in the entire country—at least, from what little of it I’ve seen.”
“It sounds wonderful,” Hakua smiled. “And you, Nova—you came from Bohren?”
“Yes,” Nova grinned.
“The land of the hills,” Hakua laughed. “Is it really as hilly as they say?”
“The surrounding area is, but the town itself was built on the flatter parts. Me and my wife live with her father further out of town. The land starts to rise and fall there.”
“Miko said you used to live on a hill?”
“I could see all of Bohren there,” Nova smiled. “My father… he raised me for much of my life there until he passed away a few years ago.”
“I’m truly sorry,” Hakua sighed, setting his cup of tea down. “It’s hard when a man loses his father.”
“It is, but he taught me everything I know, so I can’t say he’s been forgotten.”
“No good father is forgotten,” Hakua nodded. He relieved his cup of tea from the table, then looked at Miko, pale eyes lingering beneath his steaming cup. “How have you been, kind Elf?”
“I’ve been well. You?”
“I myself have been fine, though I regret to say that my daughter has come down with an illness.”
“What kind of illness?” Odin frowned.
“I believe it’s no more than a cold, but it’s been enough to keep her in bed. My daughter’s always had trouble with sickness, but she’s always come out of them.”
A quick glance at Miko showed more than he needed to see. His expression—a mix between trouble and want—lay tangled across his face. Eyes out of focus and lip curled to one side, the Elf readjusted his position, if only to ease the likely, unsettling heat in his chest, then shifted, as if trying to adjust himself in a sinking boat he could not repair with magic.
Maybe I should get him alone,
he thought, looking from his knight master, to the mayor, then back again.
It might not be good to stay if his urge is getting worse.
“Miko, sir,” Odin said. “Can I talk to you for a moment?”
“You know you can.”
“Alone,” he added, hoping the resounding frown wasn’t a warning ot things to come. “If that’s all right, anyway.”
“No, we can speak.” Miko stood, gesturing Odin to rise with him. “Hakua, may we use one of your halls?”
“You’re more than welcome to use an empty room if you’d like,” the old man said. “We’ll be here when you get back.”
Nova offered an odd look, but Odin only shrugged before turning and following his knight master down a hall. They passed a framed artwork of the village, the mansion, and of horses and other creatures before they came to the very end—where, there, a large window opened up to reveal the frozen wasteland that lay beyond the almost-invisible, translucent barrier.
“What did you want to speak to me about?”
“Are you all right?” Odin frowned.
“I’m fine,” Miko smiled, his mouth harsh and full of lies.
“You don’t look fine. You were squirming in your seat.”
Miko turned and looked out the window.
“Sir,” Odin said, stepping forward, suddenly perturbed by the Elf’s lack of response. “If you want to leave, I’m sure Nova wouldn’t mind. We don’t want you to be comfortable.”
“So you told him.”
“I…” Odin paused, then sighed. “Yes sir. I did.”
The Elf had nothing to say. He simply continued to look at the window.
“We’re only concerned,” Odin continued, hoping to press the matter further if only to secure himself a hopeful palce within the Elf’s heart. “We care about you.”
“I told you that in confidence, Odin.”
“I know, but—”
“Would you like me to tell Nova the things you told me?”
“I haven’t—”
“You’ve told me more than a few things that you wouldn’t want Nova to know. I’ve kept them between us so far, haven’t I?”
“I’m sorry.” Odin bowed his head, unable to meet the Elf’s eyes for the shame he held in his heart. “You can tell him anything you want that I’ve told you.”
“I won’t tell him anything.” A pressure on Odin’s shoulders caused him to look up. Miko stood there, glossy purple eyes showing no trace of anger or hurt. “You’re young,” the Elf said, tightening his grip on Odin’s body. “I expect you to turn to others when you don’t know what to do.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt you. It’s just… I don’t know how to help you.”
“I don’t believe anyone does, Odin, and I don’t believe anyone ever will. Even I don’t know how to relieve the urge and temptation that rests in my soul.”
“I’m sorry I broke your trust.”
“You haven’t broken my trust at all,” Miko said, taking Odin into his arms. “Please, don’t think you have.”
“I… I just… I just want to be the best I can be for you,” Odin sighed, tightening his hold around the Elf’s chest. “The only other person I’ve ever wanted to please was my father, and without him here—”
“You turn to me,” the Elf nodded, finishing what Odin couldn’t. “It’s all right. Please, don’t be afraid you’ve done anything to disappoint me.”
“All I’ve wanted to do was please you.”
“You have,” Miko said, “and you always will.”
After Miko and Odin returned, they excused themselves from the mansion and headed back to the infirmary with Nova. The whole ride back, Odin couldn’t help but feel guilty and wronged—guilty because he’d revealed something Miko had told him in confidence, wronged because he had no one else but Nova to turn to for advice.
He’s already said he’s all right with it,
he thought, looking back up at the Elf.
Still, that did little to relieve the pain in his heart.
“You have a good time up there, bud?” Nova asked, sliding an arm around his shoulder.
“Yeah,” Odin said, somehow managing to force a smile. “I did.”
“The mayor’s a pretty nice man.”
“He is,” Miko agreed. “It takes a good person to open up his home like that.”
Odin nodded, reaching down to mess with one of the buttons on his sleeveless jerkin. It’d come loose sometime, though when he couldn’t be sure. He’d have to ask Joseph if he could borrow some needle and thread so he could sew it back together.
I don’t think I could do it the right way with magic.
Though he could both mend and heat fabric, he didn’t think he would be able to sew the thin areas between the button and jerkin without somehow messing up. That was something else he’d have to learn how to do.
At least I’m not going to be a tailor.
He laughed at the thought.
“What?” Nova grinned.
“I was just thinking about how I’m not going to be a tailor,” Odin said, fingering the button in his shirt. “It’s loose.”
“Ah,” Nova said.
“I’ll mend it for you,” Miko offered.
“Oh no, sir—I can do it myself.”
“It’s fine. I enjoy doing simple things like knitting anyway. They help put my mind at ease.”
That’s odd,
Odin thought,
because it always seems to drive me nuts.
“If you want to, that’s fine. Thank you.”
“There’s no need to thank me.”
The carriage passed over the invisible barrier that separated the old part of the village from the new. Amidst newer, browner wood and more evenly-laid paths, Odin found himself missing the somewhat-colorful, red-wooded area they’d just been in.
“Sir,” Odin said. “When my hip is fully recovered, can me and Nova come stay at the inn with you?”
“The mayor has arranged for us to stay in a small cottage near where he lives. It’s down the hill right near the main road, so we’ll have easy access to the rest of the village.”
“That’s awfully nice of him,” Nova said, though Odin thought his voice held some sort of amusement. Given the convenient placement, it was no wonder Nova sounded the way he did.
“He’s taking a liking to me, I suppose,” the Elf said.
Nova chuckled. Odin elbowed his side before he could say something stupid.
We don’t need you screwing things up.
“Anyway,” Odin said, “Joseph said my hip should be better soon. If I’m walking as well as I am, all I’ll have to do is keep getting the right amount of rest and exercise.”
“He’s a good man,” Miko agreed.
Odin kept his silence as the carriage continued to lead them through the village.
That afternoon, after they’d eaten a small lunch of soup Joseph had brought for the three of them, Odin lay in bed watching the cloaked Elf guide a thin needle through the tough folds of fabric of his jerkin. For having such big hands and such well-proportioned fingers, the small needle didn’t seem to trouble Miko at all. He’d been more than sure that the Elf might have trouble using such a small instrument, much less the ability to maneuver it so well.
He doesn’t cease to amaze me.
“Is something wrong?” Miko asked, looking up to face him.
“Oh, no,” Odin smiled. “I was just thinking about how hard it must be to use that small a needle, what with how big your hands are and all.
Nova chuckled. Miko merely shrugged and went back to knitting.
“You kidding?” the older, human man asked, plopping down at the end of Odin’s bed. “He can do anything.”
“Not anything,” the Elf murmured.
“Still, pretty much everything.”
“The two of you flatter me.”
“We’ll be quiet,” Odin said.
Miko nodded.
“Hey,” Nova whispered, gesturing Odin to get out of bed. “Come here. I gotta show you something.”
“What is it?”
“Some new game I found in a book here.”
“A game?”
“Yeah.”
After sliding out of bed, Odin made his way over to the table in the corner. There, a pair of wooden, eight-sided dice and a stack of cards lay arranged in the center, neatly-posed as though prepared specifically for that very moment.
“You see,” Nova said, lifting a couple of cards and setting them right-side up. “You draw four cards, roll the dice, and put down as many numbered cards as you can.”
“Ok,” Odin said. “What’s the goal of the game?”
“It’s like this,” Nova said, drawing two more cards, setting them face up, then rolling the dice. One die had a four, the other a two. “There’s six there, and I’ve got a two, a three, a one and a five card, so that gives me eleven numbers.
But,
listen to this—you need to match the cards as perfectly as possible, or else you lose part of the fifty points you start out with.”
“So the point of the game is to make the other person go to zero then?”
“Yeah. Wanna play?”
“I guess,” Odin shrugged, sliding into the chair opposite Nova. “What’s the game called?”
“Beats the hell out of me, but at least it gives us something to do.”
Odin couldn’t agree more.
They played the nameless game for the next several hours, trying to best one another in chance and luck. After a few games, however, Odin started to doubt that he had much luck, as he only continued to lose time and time again as the day continued on.
“We’re almost tied,” Nova chuckled, setting down another perfect set of cards. “I mean, I’ve won five and you’ve won three.”
“Now you see my point.”
Nova chuckled and turned his head up to look around the room. Odin, too, looked over his shoulder. It soon became apparent that they’d been deserted some time ago. “I wonder where they went,” he mumbled, pushing away from the table to walk toward the window.
“Hey!” Nova cried. “Where you goin’?”
“I think I’m done, if that’s all right.”
“Aww, come on!”
“Do I have to?”
“No.” Nova stood and walked to Odin’s side, slapping an arm across his back. “That was fun while it lasted, wasn’t it?”