Chapter 4: An old friend

Asher rode through the woods beyond the castle in his carriage, his grey eyes staring through the window deep in thought. It was the tenth time she had appeared to him over the space of two months. He didn't know who she was or why she sought him but he could indeed say that he was intrigued. Perhaps the only thing that appealed to him in this fucked up world.

Everytime he closed his eyes, he remembered her, remembered the way her crystal eyes glowed, looking at him with hope. He remembered her long silver hair cascading down her back as it reached just below her hips. And those hips, those curvy sensual hips were enough to drive an ordinary man cray just by looking at it. The one thing that stood out the most was her expression. Those eyes that welled up with tears. She looked tired and bedraggled, her dress tattered and torn, scratches and wounds that marred her face and skin. He wondered what she went through that made her look like that. He clenched his jaw in thought. That was okay, he would find out who she was and what she wanted.

King Asher's carriage came to a halt, and he stepped out into the woods, coming across a clearing bathed in sunlight filtering through the leaves, poppies and dandelions dotting it. A small stream trickled by with goldfish swimming among the small rocks. The forest was still, and he paused, his senses heightened as he listened to the quiet.

"Wait here for me." He told the coachman.

"Milord." The coachman bowed.

He walked across the clearing, going deeper into the forest. The trees became denser, the shrubs and bushes more prickly and thick and the tree roots more twisted.

Asher broke into a larger clearing. The trees became bare, tall and twisted and their thick branches interlocked, forming a dome where sunlight could not seep through. The ground was scorched and dry with bones of humans and animals alike scattered all over the place. At the center of the clearing was an enormous oak tree whose top scraped the top of the dome. It's trunk was probably the size of ten men lined side by side.

The king stood before the tree, calculating and listening to the sounds around. A small breeze blew above him and he looked up just in time to see a shadowy figure leaping down from one of the branches, descending upon him. The figure attacked the king with a sword and Asher swiftly raised his own sword, the clash of steel ringing through the clearing.

Asher smirked, it was a while since he had an interesting fight like this. He raised his long legs and kicked his opponent, sending him flying. The figure landed across the clearing on his feet. They both ran towards each other with speed, each opponent attacking with fervour. They were evenly matched, their every motion and reaction executed with deadly precision.

They circled one another, each attempting to anticipate the other's moves. Asher's eyes never left his attacker's, searching for a glimmer of recognition in the stranger's eyes hidden behind a mask.

The sword fight continued with great intensity, the opponents displaying their skill and prowess. Asher's footwork was impeccable, as he pivoted and lunged, responding to the figure's agile attacks.

His attacker, in turn, executed ducts and turns, his weapon moving as an extension of his body. The forest vibrated with the shockwaves from their battle, the only sounds being the rhythmic clashing of steel, red and orange sparks flying off steel.

With each clash of their blades, their movements became faster, each opponent enjoying the fight. Asher death a strong blow of his sword, knocking his opponent to the ground. The figure got up and dusted himself, sheathing his sword and removed his mask. He was a peculiar man, tall and dark with black hair that fell just below his shoulders. Two small antlers the length of a finger emerged from both sides of his head. His face was a nightmare, the right half of it was handsome with thick eyebrows and lashes that framed his striking green eye, his full lips stretched in a smile. The left half of his face was scarred and rotten, his brows missing and his eye sewed shut, his lips on this side were mere pieces of flesh which looked like they could fall off any minute, the skin rotted enough to show the muscle and bone beneath it. Surprisingly, his teeth were white and impeccable and showed as his smile broadened.

"Sharp as ever I see Asher." The man chuckled.

"Good to see that you haven't lost your witt Byron." Asher smiled as he sheathed his sword. Both men walked towards each other and clapsed their arms at the elbows.

"Good to see you again old friend." Byron said as he walked towards the oak tree."What brings you this deep into my territory, has your castle become dull with the lack of entertainment?" He laughed.

Asher smirked. "It has been sometime since I had a good fight but I sought you out not for entertainment but for your abilities."

"Hmm. Come then, we have much to discuss."

They walked up to the tree which opened into an entrance as Byron laid his hands on it. They climbed up the stairs that formed from the interior of the tree, coloured floating balls of light illuminating the way.

Byron led Asher to a small room with small windows carved into the bark of the tree. Small balls of light hung from the ceiling illuminating the space. The room was bare, save for a small stump at the center with a large bowl of water atop it. Cushions were placed around the stump for comfort and an oval mirror hung from the wall.

"Make yourself comfortable my king." Byron pointed towards the cushions and sat opposite from him in front of the stump. "So, you seek my abilities?"

"Indeed. I have been receiving visions of late. Not of much importance but about a woman."

"A woman." Byron said rubbing his chin. "I thought you didn't believe in love and only fucked for your pleasure? Don't tell me you have suddenly become sentimental." He smirked.

Asher laughed darkly. "I have no interest in such matters, it is why I sought you to know her identity."

"Very well, place a finger in the bowl of water."

As Asher's finger touched the bowl, the water collected in the air and formed a crystal sphere. The image of the woman reflected in it.

"That is the woman." Asher confirmed.

"Her?!" Byron exclaimed. Asher narrowed his eyes. There were few things that made Byron surprised. Who exactly was this woman and what did she want? Was she a servant of Lénïk? If she was, she will suffer his wrath. He will not return to that chasm, never again. He reigned his anger and shook his head to clear the thoughts.

"Who is she?" He asked with a growl.

"Zarafea, the Goddess of Azra. I have no knowledge of why she seeks you or what she wants but I can show you how to get the answers you seek." Byron replied.

"Are you fucking kidding me? You, Byron the great seer has no knowledge of why she seeks me? Seems your skills need polishing." Asher seethed.

"She is cursed and we Enchanted creatures cannot interfere with the business of the gods unless we are tasked to do so."

"Spare me the lesson and cut to the damn chase." Asher snapped.

"When next she appears to you in your chambers,tell her that you are ready to listen and she shall speak."

"Is that all?" Came the dry remark.

"It helps if you put three candles in a triangule in the middle of the room, preferably on the ground."

"Fine. If this doesn't work, I'll gut you and string your bowels on the branches of your home."

"Always a pleasure old friend." Byron chuckled.

With that, Asher returned to the castle.