Surprise Visit!

ALDRIC PARKER

Aldric lowered himself into the worn chair outside Ad's room, the wood creaking beneath his weight. The corridor stretched ahead, steeped in a suffocating silence that only deepened the weight pressing against his chest. Every so often, the silence fractured—a muffled crash of shattering glass, the scrape of something heavy dragged across the floor.

He called out to her a few times, his voice low and uncertain, "Ad..." but no answer came. Just that unyielding silence. Aldric sighed, running a hand over his face. His fingers curled into a fist as he clutched at his trembling hand, as if the act alone could steady the storm inside him.

"Ad," he called again, one last time, the words heavy and deliberate. "It wasn't your fault... for letting go. It was mine. I should've never allowed that beast to leave. I misjudged it's authority, presumed it something akin to...akin to meta physical hold." His voice cracked on the word, and he sucked in a breath, staring at the cracked stone floor. "But I'll find him. El Ritch is alive—I know it. I've scoured the Capital, but those trees, in the north... they felt familiar. He's there, I'm sure of it."

He stood abruptly, raking a hand through his hair. His shadow stretched long against the wall, and he sighed yet again, the sound heavy and resigned. "Ad... please. Speak with Belga. I can't begin to understand how you feel, but—"

The door burst open with a sudden snap, making him step back instinctively. There she stood, her eyes wide and bloodshot, her hair a wild halo of disarray. Her lips twitched into something between a sneer and a smirk.

"You really need to do something about your awkwardness with me," she said, brushing past him with a shake of her head.

Aldric turned, glancing into the room. His jaw tightened at the sight. Maps lay scattered across the floor like fallen leaves, the wardrobe door hung askew, and piles of shattered trinkets littered every corner. Only the table, with its intricate markings of the lands, stood untouched.

"What—what were you doing in there?" he asked, hesitating at the threshold.

"Crying for El Ritch." Her voice was flat, but when her gaze met his, there was something raw in her eyes. Her stare pierced through him, unrelenting.

Aldric's lips pressed into a thin line. "I... don't understand people," he muttered at last, as if the admission pained him.

Ad let out a breath, humorless and sharp. "You don't understand people," she echoed, taking a step closer. "How long have you been with me, Aldric?"

He dropped his head, as though bracing for a blow. "More than three thousand—"

"More than three thousand years," she cut in, her voice rising like a whip crack. "And you think I'd let that chump walk off with El Ritch?"

Aldric shook his head, still bowed, but said nothing.

"Good," she snapped. "Because we can have our moment later. First, I need to kill that thing."

He straightened, frowning. "How do you know where it is?"

Her lips curved into a grim smile. "I was searching for someone. A Rune Smith."

The name fell from him in a near-whisper. "Diogenes?"

Ad gave a small nod.

The air in the house shifted—first a faint vibration, then a hum so subtle it seemed to crawl beneath the skin. The soft click, click, click of unseen forces echoed through the walls like a phantom's drumbeat. Aldric reacted immediately, stepping in front of Ad. Her back remained turned, but her shoulders tensed as she had sensed it too.

The room grew unnaturally still, and then, as if reality itself had been torn open, a gust of wind swept through the house. No windows were ajar, yet the breeze curled through the halls, cold and deliberate.

"Hello, Aldric."

The voice slithered in from nowhere and everywhere at once, curling through the air like smoke. It was soft yet heavy, its presence undeniable. Aldric stiffened, his hand twitching toward his blade. He didn't need to see her to know. Neither did Ad.

"What business do you have here?" Aldric asked, his voice as frigid as steel left in winter's frost.

A chuckle followed, light and mocking. "Such a rude greeting. You might try hiding that frosty tone next time, dear Aldric," the witch purred, her words dripping with casual disdain.

"We're very busy, Rok-To," Ad interjected, her voice calm but firm. "I trust you understand."

"Ah, Lady Adeline." Rok-To's voice warmed with amusement, as if savoring the interaction. "Always a delight to exchange words. But perhaps you seek something... or someone?"

Ad's head snapped up at the suggestion. "Rok-To," she said, her voice sharp with purpose. "You know where El Ritch is?" For the first time in these days, after El Ritch's absence this was the first Ad seemed desperate, her voice almost cracking.

The witch paused, and for a moment, the air seemed to thrum with unspoken glee. Then, with deliberate slowness, she replied, "Miss Adeline, no need to fret. We've kept your little ball of excitement safe and warm. A shame he can't speak to you himself… Ah, wait a moment—he's asking something."

Another pause, longer this time, then came the words: "He asks, 'Are you two safe and well?'"

Ad inhaled sharply, the sound trembling on the edge of a sob. For the first time in days, her voice cracked as she replied, "We're... yes, we're safe. We're well." She let out a shaky chuckle, leaning back into Aldric's steadying arms. He held her close, grounding her as her relief poured out.

"Rok-To—" she began again, but the witch cut her off with a sharp, dismissive laugh.

"I've passed along your answer. Now, you'll listen to me." Her voice dropped, losing its playful edge. "The winter is long, and spring promises to bring its own troubles. Your son must stay here, with us. Bringing him back would be... unwise."

Ad's expression darkened. "But how will he—"

"Miss Adeline!" Rok-To snapped, her tone rising to a near shriek, sharp enough to cut. "There are three women here. Two of us were mothers, once. I believe we're more than capable of managing a child. Besides, don't send Aldric."

Ad's eyes darted to him, but he merely shrugged, feigning innocence.

The witch continued, her voice brimming with contempt. "The people here are either terrified of him or hate him so deeply they'd rather die than share the same air. Surely you wouldn't risk such chaos?"

Ad's gaze lingered on Aldric a moment longer, and then she gave a small, resigned nod. "We accept."

"Splendid! Cheers to—"

"I have a favor to ask," Aldric interrupted, his voice cutting through her enthusiasm like a blade.

Rok-To stilled, her amusement now laced with curiosity. "A favor? For the Great Aldric Parker? Oh, do tell. I'm simply dying to hear."

______________

A crow perched outside the window, its beady eyes glinting as it peered into the room. It tapped at the glass with its beak, sharp and deliberate. Aldric turned to let it in, the bird fluttering onto the sill with a flurry of black feathers.

"You're late," Aldric said, his tone somewhere between a scold and a jest.

The crow ruffled its feathers, snapping its beak as it spoke. "Where is Ad?"

"Cleaning herself up," Aldric replied, leaning closer. "But before she returns, what was the patriarch—"

"Shh." The crow's head swiveled sharply. "We have a peeping Tom."

It cocked its head, staring directly at you.

"The show's over," it croaked, the beak clicking once more. "No need to read the bloopers."

[THE POV IS RESTRICTED]