Chapter 95: The moment you've all been waiting for (3)

Chapter 95:

The moment you've all been waiting for (3)

Clarence groaned, a throbbing pain in the back of his head forcing him to consciousness. When he slowly cracked his eyes, the light seared his eyes, forcing him to close them again.

"Prince Clarence, you're awake!" Then a low mumble, "Go summon the royal physician immediately! I'll treat the crown prince until he arrives."

Clarence tried to open his eyes again, this time his eyes only opening to little slits. Crouched in front of him, face pale with worry, was Earnest. As Clarence groaned, the throbbing pain worsening, Earnest brought his hands to the back of Clarence's head.

Clarence hissed as the pain became suddenly intense. He felt he was about to faint from the horrible, piercing pain coming from the back of his head. The dull ache from between his legs could no longer compare to his throbbing head.

"I'm sorry, Your Highness." Earnest muttered apologetically, his eyes focused, "I have to check the wounded area. Please stay strong and focus on your breath."

"Call the guards." Clarence managed to weakly mumble.

"They've already been summoned, Your Majesty." Earnest said, rising to his feet as he gently tilted Clarence's head forward, as he said to someone beside him, "Please bring the candle closer. I need to see how bad it is before we move him."

"So, they're looking for him?" Clarence mumbled, his head resting between his knees as he felt blood ooze down the back of his neck.

"Who would they be looking for, Your Majesty?"

"The elf."

"The… elf?" Earnest seemed uncomfortable by what Clarence was saying, his words coming out as a gasped surprise. Earnest then mumbled something to the person beside him, but Clarence was in too much pain to focus on their words.

"That bastard. He did this to me." Clarence mumbled again, feeling light headed. He had to say what he needed to as quickly as possible, before he lost consciousness, "He's here for his family. He would be… in the dungeon. Send the guards. Don't let him escape."

"Your Majesty, I think your head injury is making you delirious." Earnest said, his voice filled with concern, "The royal physician will be here any moment, so please be patient."

"Send the guards." Clarence forced his limp tongue to cooperate, "Or I'll remove your head."

Earnest eyebrows furrowed as he turned to the person beside him, whispering, "Maybe we should send a guard or two down to the dungeon, just to make sure everything is alright."

"I'll do that right away, sir." The person beside Earnest noted before hurrying away.

As the blood continued to ooze down Clarence's neck, he found it harder and harder to keep his eyes open, "Don't… let him escape. Please." Clarence mumbled with the last of his strength as he shut his eyes and slumped over.

"Prince Clarence!" Earnest shouted, grabbing the slumping Prince by the shoulders, "He's here! Please, come quickly!"

The palace physician ran as fast as his aged body could move, running to the prince's side with his sachet of equipment as Earnest continued to speak to the prince, assisting the physician to the best of his ability as the prince quickly lost consciousness.

The designated group of guards quickly ran down to the dungeon to survey the scene. Following the prince's orders, the men checked each of the cells with a quick, careful eye. The jailkeeper was confident none of the prisoners could have escaped under his watchful eye, but he was soon proven wrong as the three separate cells, made to hold the three elves, were empty. At first, the jailkeeper motioned to the figures laying on the ground, still chained and bound by their hands and feet, but as the guards entered to take a closer look, all they found were sacks of flour, made to look like the figures with tattered rags and bundles of hay for hair.

"They couldn't have gone far! Find them!" A high-standing knight commanded the small group of knights in the lower floors of the palace, taking extra care to ensure that the guests at the palace were unaware and unalarmed by the sudden hunt for the elven prisoners.

While the guests were carefully escorted back to their rooms for the night, a pageboy was sent to the ballroom floor, carrying a small roll of paper in his trembling hands as he quickly walked through the halls, only stopping when he saw the tall figure of Captain Laurent standing near the prince's side, watching for any signs of another attack.

"Captain Laurent." The page boy bowed at his waist, greeting the captain as he stood up and said, "A message has been delivered to you."

Beau kept his eyes on the prince as he responded, "What does it say?"

The pageboy looked at the prince, feeling almost too anxious to speak, but under the captain's direct orders he could only open the piece of parchment and say in a weak voice, "The elves have escaped the dungeon. The culprit is attempting to leave the palace now."

Beau's eyes widened at the news, his body becoming rigid with the news.

"Who knows about this?" Beau asked urgently.

"Only a handful of guards, the jailkeeper, and the crown prince." The pageboy said quickly, sensing the urgency of the situation.

"Keep it that way." Beau said, walking as quickly as his legs would allow on his way to the dungeon.

There are only a small number of people who would do something like this. Beau's eyebrows furrowed as he frowned deeply, And I have a strong suspicion about who that would be.

As Beau walked, he saw a group of guards, standing at alert. He snapped at them, then pointed behind him. With a bow, they filed in order behind him as he walked, their attention fixed on Captain Laurent.

"We have escaped prisoners." Beau said, his expression darkening as he relayed the situation to his new companions, "Try to take them alive. But if they resist, kill them."

"Yes, sir!" The men shouted back, their hands inching ever closer to their weapons as the adrenaline within the group crescendo-ed.

Beau continued his fast pace, walking towards the central end of the hall as he smelled the air, taking two small sniffs, as if trying to find something, before his eyes narrowed and he caught a specific scent, a scent he had not smelled in quite some time.

This mana trail… I know it. Beau truly was the Yursinean Bloodhound. He could distinguish the scents of mana from elves if he had smelled it more than once. Even the faintest smell of mana could draw his attention, even in a busy crowd much like today's banquet. The varied smells of women's perfume and men's cologne were irritating Beau's nose, but he followed the faint scent of that familiar elf piously, his steps mirroring the trail that elf walked.

Following the trail, the captain was led into the dungeon. Though there had been passing scents of other elves that had been captured, Beau focused on the familiar scent, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled repeatedly, feeling as though his nose would become stuffed full of that elf's scent. Beau's eyes darkened as he followed the earthy scent to the thin pathway used by the guards to escort prisoners. In addition to that elf's scent, there were traces of three other elves mixed with it. The scent was no longer as weak as it had been. They had not passed through the area long before he arrived.

Two guards were still surveying the dungeon as ordered, hastily searching for the prisoners. Beau stepped back out of the pathway and caught the attention of the two guards with a wave of his hand, his expression dark.

"You two, bring the search party here. The elves have escaped through his passageway." Beau knew that the elf was strong, but he was foolish. He came back to the most dangerous place for elves in the entirety of the kingdom, the most dangerous place for that elf to return to. Now, he would be caught again, thrown to die by the Yursinean people's hands. "Hurry!" Beau commanded heatedly, narrowing his eyes in aggression.

The two guards responded quickly and ran to gather the search party as Beau stood next to the passageway, finding it hard to fight the temptation to explore the path first. It was dangerous, but for some reason, the captain felt he would not be the one in danger in this encounter.

…

Alywin sat down on the chair he was guided to, his body collapsing against the soft cloth as the pair rested in Malcolm's guest room. Though the air of the room was light, full of the scent of late autumn roses, the liveliness in the room had dulled tremendously from when Silas had been applying his makeup to now. Now, there was no laughter, no liveliness, only sorrow and melancholy.

He's gone. He's really gone. Alywin could not hold back the tears that fell from his red-rimmed brown eyes. Theo, his closest friend and companion, his protector and mentor, was gone.

Alywin only had the strength to bring his hands up to cover his wet, swollen eyes as he cried. His body shook as his heart dropped into his stomach. Alywin felt the sudden urge to vomit, and he dropped his head forward as he tried to breathe deeply between his sobs, unable to catch his breath as he choked on his tears, his breaths the only thing keeping him from gagging at the side of the duke.

"Are you feeling sick? Do you want some water?" A calloused hand swept over Alywin's bangs, pushing them away from his sweating forehead with a gentle swish of his hand. The cool hand was welcomed by Alywin.

"Clare-" Alywin's breath caught in his throat as he began to say, gazing upward with moistened eyes, his cheeks flushed and burning from the tears that continued to fall, making him appear weak and fragile in the eyes of the other person. In front of him, an annoyed smile on his face, was Malcolm. Malcolm bent at his knees, his face becoming level with Alywin's as the young man rested in the armchair, his eyes falling dark.

"No, Alywin. It's not my cousin." Malcolm brushed Alywin's curly blonde hair behind his ear, letting his fingers linger on the back of Alywin's ear as he did so. He then dropped his hand to his knee, where his other hand rested, "But that's an understandable mistake. He's taken my place for the last ten years. No longer though." Malcolm turned his head towards the door, which caused Alywin to finally notice the maid standing in the corner of the room.

"Go summon the royal physician." Malcolm said coldly to the maid, who shrunk in response, bowing her head with a nervous expression, as if she had seen something she should not have.

"I'm sorry, Duke Godfreed. I cannot." The maid grabbed the cotton white apron of her dress, twisting it in her hands, "He is currently seeing the crown prince."

Malcolm's eyebrow raised, and his voice was tight as he said, further incensed, "Then go get the physician directly below him."

"Of course, sir! Right away!" The maid hurried out, forgetting to curtsey in her panic to escape the debilitating atmosphere of the room. As the door slammed shut behind her, Alywin shook his head.

"Don't bother," Alywin whispered, tears flowing down his flushed, pained face. His disgust had yet to subside, as did his tears.

"Don't say that." Malcolm chided, "Besides, I want him to look at your cheek." Malcolm felt an urge to rub his finger down Alywin's cheek, where the bright red from Malcolm's slap had begun to darken to a deep red. Malcolm clenched his fists, worried doing so would upset Alywin more, "Why did you have me slap you anyway? You know I don't like hurting you."

Alywin could not bring himself to answer, his eyes squeezed shut as waves of grief washed over him. He was too distraught to even strike at Theo's murderer, who stood before him.

Alywin wanted to curl into a small ball and disappear. He refused to answer the duke and quietly shook his head in response.

"I'm sorry, Alywin." Malcolm said, gently placing his hands on Alywin's trembling arms, "If I knew how much this would have hurt you, I wouldn't have done it. I was just so afraid that he would take you away again."

"Liar." Alywin mumbled under his breath, anger bubbling under his growing and ebbing grief, "You knew. You always knew. You've always done this. But never," Alywin tried to breathe as he sobbed again, "Never like this!"

"Alywin, please." Malcolm said, his face inching closer to Alywin's, "I'm sorry."

"Get away from me." Alywin hissed, his eyes distorting unrecognizably as the tears running down his face dried, "Before I kill you." There was a darkness in Alywin's eyes Malcolm had not seen since long ago, churning threateningly as he continued to stare at Malcolm, threatening to unleash the heavy feelings of grief with it.

Malcolm paused, his hands still resting on Alywin as he stared into Alywin's darkening face, testing him. The annoyed smile on Malcolm's lips never fell, but as the short amount of time passed, the smile changed to one of interest, one of enjoyment. Alwyin never failed to entertain him, bringing out emotions he had forgotten. The pair stood fast, refusing to move an inch as their gazes continued to pierce into one another. The silence only lengthened between them, and the atmosphere became strange once again.

Finally, with a sigh, Malcolm let go of Alywin's arms and rose to his feet. "I understand," Malcolm said with a smile, "You're angry right now. You need to process these emotions, just like last time. I'll give you some time to rest." Malcolm walked out of the room, not saying another word, nor looking back at Alywin, who glared at the back of Theo's murderer.

Once Malcolm left, and a horrible silence returned to the room, the vomit Alywin had managed to keep down rose up his throat with such force, Alywin only had time to lean over the side of the chair, expelling everything from his stomach on the expensive chaise, staining the polished wood floors beneath it.

He panted, bile and other food particles staining his lips with a sickly shade of muted green. The bitterness of his stomach contents coated his tongue and throat, burning his esophagus as he continued to sob, clutching the arm of the chair with enough force to tear holes into the stiff fabric.

…

The back of the palace carried some of the noise from the ball, but the scattered shrubbery and trees dulled the sharpness slightly, allowing the group to walk quietly together. New disguises had already been prepared for Cirdan and Aurelia, and they were no longer recognizable using the power of the mana stone. Silas, using his stone, changed his appearance and hair color enough to pass unnoticed with Eva and the tall knight at her side. The scattered guards in the area greeted them as guests of the palace and did not heed their trip to the carriage.

"The carriage is this way, my lady." The knight said, nodding his head to the few visible guards in the small carriage parking area. The dirt under their feet was still moist with fresh rain from the past days, but the group trudged forward, making their way to a large, inconspicuous carriage parked near the back of the fence enclosing the area.

"Maeir is inside the carriage. Don't be alarmed when you see her, Silas. Don't forget she's been captive for many days." Eva said, staring at the carriage with her arms crossed, her expression tinged with anxiety. Silas's heart raced painfully, and he immediately felt nauseous, "You all can catch up as we leave. For now, get in the carriage and allow my men to take care of the rest."

Silas ushered Cirdan and Aurelia forward first, just like when they were children to Cirdan's chagrin, and they quickly entered the carriage, their eyes still dripping with tears, unwilling to separate from each other as they were made to enter the carriage. "What about Edgar?" Silas asked as he watched the twins, the tails of their capes disappearing into the carriage only a moment later.

Eva tapped her finger on her arm, staring at the carriage as she said, "Edgar won't be joining us yet. He'll be taking a separate carriage." She then gestured towards the carriage with her gloved hand, "Get in. We don't have time to waste."

A part of Silas wanted to throw himself into the carriage and into his mother's arms, but another part of him was holding him back, terrified by what he would find when he entered. Eva warned him Maeir appearance would shock him, and Silas found, now at the cusp of attaining the goal he had worked over a decade to attain, that all he wanted to do was run away.

Silas closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and opened the carriage door, stepping inside before he had a moment to weigh the pros and cons.

The carriage interior was larger than Silas expected, seating almost eight people comfortably. The carriage was set up much like the caravan he had taken to arrive at the Yursinean palace ten years ago, but the interior of this carriage was more embellished, highlighting Eva's tastes. As he stepped inside, the carriage step bowed slightly as he shifted his weight onto the wood carriage floor. Sitting to his left were his two siblings and another figure, donning a grey blanket around her shoulders. Her hair rested around her shoulders, pooling down her face limply like pieces of straw.

As Silas looked forward, he recognized the figure right away. "Hi, Mom." He said warmly, fighting back the tears in his eyes as he blinked repeatedly, stepping forward slightly, trying not to startle her.

The aging blonde-haired elf turned her head, her expression rapidly changing as her eyes fell on the figure wearing the dress. Maeir had no question who the femininely-dressed elf was. She threw down the blanket around her and ran forward, opening her arms as she collided with Silas's figure, tears swimming in her hardened eyes.

"Silas… it's really you." Maeir's voice was hoarse, weak from dehydration and overuse, but the warmth in her voice was palpable. The dark circles and wrinkles near her eyes had deepend, but the strength and resilience Maeir always had was still there. Though she was shorter than Silas, Maeir stood tall and kissed her son's cheek with relief, as if to see if he was really there, standing alive in front of them after those long ten years.

"It's really me, Mom." Silas lifted his gloved hand and wiped away the tears staining his mother's cheeks, a smile decorating his lips. It was difficult to hide the joy and bittersweetness of their reunion.

She held his slim face in her weathered, bruised hands, her fingers trembling as they traced the lines and bumps on his face. She brought her lips to his right cheek, gently kissing it, then the other cheek, his cheeks lifting as he smiled. She then held him again, her strong arms much thinner and frailer than he remembered.

"Oh, Silas. Oh, my sweet child. I thought I'd never see you again." Maeir mumbled, a tear running down her cheek. As it dripped off her trembling chin, it hit Silas's bare neck. The feeling of the warm wetness of the fallen tear brought Silas to an odd sense of reality.

This was real. He was here, with his mother and siblings.

Silas's face scrunched as a sob ripped up his throat.

"Mom! Mom!" Silas cried, holding his mother's frail body tightly, "I- I missed you all so much!" Silas sobbed harder, which caused Maeir, the steeled warrior, to cry too. Her stringy, greasy hair brushed against the makeup still on his cheek, ticking the wet tears on his face.

Emmeline. I did it. I found them. Silas thought to himself as he gripped the back of his mother's dress tightly in his hands. They're alive and safe. I finally got to meet them again.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but we need to leave." Eva said, her gaze lowered as she stepped into the carriage, "Please sit."

Maeir nodded, slowly releasing her son, but he clung to her desperately, just like a petulant child. Maeir weakly laughed at this, coo-ing gently at Silas as she guided them to a seat next to the rest of their family. Even Cirdan, who was still angry and reluctant to fold to his simmering emotions did not move away when Silas sat next to him.

The carriage lurched forward as the horses began to clop their heels. The coach's whip rang out in the air as the coach hurried the two horses forward, tromping against the moistened autumn soil.

Tears were shed, but no words were summoned. Instead, the reunited family silently appreciated the nostalgic warmth of being near each other after so long.

When the carriage hit a rough patch of road, rocking the carriage, Maeir finally broke the silence and spoke, her voice hoarse.

"After Eva's crew members got in contact with us, we were captured by a man in a cape. He said the crown prince was forcing him to capture us. He then told us if we ever wanted to see you again alive, we wouldn't fight him and follow him.." Maeir said as she stroked her eldest son's head, speaking in a hoarse tone as she continued, "I didn't think we would live to see you, but I couldn't shake the hope that one day we would see you again. So we went. And here you are." Maeir gently placed her lips against the crown of Silas's hair, "We missed you, Silas." Silas leaned against his mother's shoulder wrapping one of his arms around her shoulder, checking to see if this was really all just a dream.

"I missed you too, mom. And Cirdan and Aurelia." Silas paused as he looked down and said with a somber smile, "I just wish Emmeline was here to see you too."

Once the carriage cleared the palace gates, the coach increased their pace, and the horses began to trot at a faster pace, allowing them to clear the immediate area around the castle and enter the forest. Their carriage quickly disappeared into the thick foliage and was hidden in the darkened shadows of the autumn trees, slowly losing their leaves as they changed color, falling under the wooden wheels of the carriage like drops of rain. Soon, those drops of rain would become snow, falling victim to the chilling air.

Listening to the clomping of horse hooves, the curtains of the carriage were tightly closed. None of the occupants could appreciate the beauty of the scenery outside, as they were desperately trying to escape the confines of the forest around them, the confines of the Yursinean palace where they had been held against their will and inhumanely tortured by their enemies.

And for Silas, he was escaping the confines of his torment, carrying the memories of the prince he soon hoped to forget.

…

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So very happy to have this chapter done and out of the way. The next chapter next week, though, will be quite action-packed and will lead us off into a lovely 2 week hiatus for the end of the arc ♥ Hunny and I know what direction we are heading already, but I think we're both tired enough to take a small break after chapter 96 is posted.

So many layers, so much character development done. I can't believe we're almost at 100 chapters, almost 1000 pages. Thank you all for reading with us, and I hope you enjoy this week's chapter :D

And for those anxious few, the romance is soon to come.