Fated to the Dark Elf Episode 4

Chapter 20

Delia

“Who goes there?” he barks. I feel an immediate sense of regret. What ever prompted me to come bother him at this late hour?

Sometimes, I think it’s hard to remember that we are not friends. Not that he’s given me any reason to think we are – he hasn’t, most certainly. It’s a fundamental flaw of mine, being unable to avoid attachments with those around me. Even when it’s clear that they’re not reciprocated, and it will only cause me more pain.

I wish that I could be better at hardening myself. After everything I’ve been through, it should be natural and easy. I’d be so much further ahead if I could build a high stone wall around myself that no one could get through – not Thorne, not Iknola, not anyone. Instead, I always find myself letting virtual strangers in, even when I can’t explain why.

I’m in too far to turn away now. If I don’t answer him, he’s going to come out in the hall demanding to know who was at the door. When he sees me out and about at this hour, he’s going to be even more irritated that I made him chase me down.

Ignoring the voice in my head that tells me to run, as fast as I can, back to the privacy of my own room, I force out a response. “It’s me. Delia,” I add as an afterthought, as if he won’t know.

He opens the door immediately. His face is impassive, not overjoyed to see me, but not angry either. With a blank look, he waits silently for me to explain myself.

 “I couldn’t sleep,” I admit. “I thought I would come chat with you for a little bit before bed.”

“Oh.” I’m not sure what to make of the limited response. For a moment, I consider just saying goodnight. It’s not too late to retreat to the safety of my room.

But while I ponder this, he’s already moving out of the doorway to sit behind his desk. He leaves the door wide open, glancing over at me as he walks away. The motion seems to indicate that I should follow.

I do, hovering uncertainly in the center of his study. The candle that I used to light my way is still in my hands, though there are enough lamps in this room to make it unnecessary. Blowing it out, I rest it on the surface of his desk.

He doesn’t object, but he doesn’t say anything at all. He just stares, studying me with those startling silver-blue eyes that I never know how to read. It feels like they bore deep inside of me, drawing out secrets that I didn’t even know were there.

I decide to break the silence with a joke, hoping to lighten the atmosphere. “I thought if I just talked to you for a little bit, it would bore me right to sleep.”

He smirks, the first sign he gives that he’s in a jovial mood and ready to chat with me. Or at least, as jovial as Thorne seems capable of being.

“That’s only because you lack imagination.”

I chuckle, finally relaxing. Being around Thorne is so nerve wracking, because sometimes, he’s quite pleasant. Other times, he can be truly unbearable. I haven’t found a way to predict which version of him I can expect.

I settle onto the couch, making myself comfortable for a late-night chat. Thorne swivels in his chair, those piercing eyes following my movement. “Are you still studying that book I gave you?”

“Oh yes,” I reply eagerly. His face looks pleased, and I feel strangely proud of myself. I’m practicing my magic for my own benefit, not his.

“That’s good,” he replies. “You know, most humans have no magic at all, so you really should work to your fullest potential. You’re lucky to have the chance.”

He isn’t wrong, and it makes me feel bold enough to ask him, “Why is your magic different colors?”

He looks up at me with pursed lips and raised eyebrows. “I have mastered different schools of magic.” He raises a hand, purple magic licking up from his palm. “I use force magic a lot, to attack.”

The color shifts to white, and it seems to float lighter.

“I can use the magic of the gods, divine magic, to create or destroy.” And then it turns to the wispy blue I recognize. “And the most difficult, chaos magic. It is the only magic that most dark elves cannot tolerate. It will bring them to their knees and it’s hard to master.” He closes his fist and shrugs. “There are others, but I use them less often.”

“I’ve seen the chaos magic before. You use it against other dark elves.”

His lips quirk. “It is effective. A small tendril sends them scrambling.”

“But it doesn’t hurt you?’

“I’ve grown accustomed to it. I know how to overcome its tendency, as wild and difficult as it can be.”

I find Thorne's chaos magic fascinating, so unpredictable and mind-bending compared to my own.

“I don’t understand how you can master different types of magic,” I gasp in awe. “I thought you had it or you don’t.”

He clucks his tongue. “No. There are different skills with different schools, each pulled from a source of magic. Starting a fire or changing one’s appearance is no different in the practice, just in the source.” 

I balk. “You can change your appearance.” For a second, his face wavers, and Anulu’s features replace his. 

I gasp, eyes widening, and he chuckles as it shifts back. “That is nothing like a fire.”

“It can be, once you know how to summon it.”

“Maybe I’ll have to learn how,” I murmur.

Silence laps over us and after a moment, he clears his throat. “How have you been enjoying the manor?” Warmth spreads through my chest as he says it. “I know you’ve made some…friends with Anulu and…Iknola.” 

There’s something in his tone that I can’t quite make out. I can hear, in his voice, that it’s like there’s a follow up question he doesn’t say out loud.

Something about the way he won’t come out and say what information he’s digging for puts me on edge. Or maybe it’s just the mention of Iknola at all.

Even if Thorne and I are not in love, I don’t want to cross the boundaries of our marriage. Whether it’s all an act or not, the marriage itself is still very much real. Letting myself grow too close to Iknola is too messy and can throw everything off. But I have to remind myself of that all the time, because something takes hold of me when I’m around Iknola. 

And I don’t quite feel like myself. 

 Iknola has never made a move, however. Maybe the attraction and chemistry between us is all in my own head. Maybe I’ve invented all of it – the looks, the spark, the way his face lights up when he sees me. Maybe it’s all an illusion, just me trying to make myself feel important because I know Thorne doesn’t want me like that.

Which is another thing I really don’t understand.

In any case, Thorne is looking at me expectantly, waiting for an answer. I stand up from the couch, stretching my legs. 

“Iknola is a good friend,” I reply carefully. “He’s helping me adjust to my new life here, and I am very grateful.”

“Hmm,” is Thorne's non-committal reply.

I pace around the room as if trying to outrun my disjointed and confusing thoughts on Iknola. There are papers scattered all over Thorne's desk. I’ve ignored them till now, but I desperately want to change the subject and focus on something else.

So, I stop pacing, instead steering myself toward the desk. “Did I interrupt your work?” I comment. “You look like you’ve been busy.”

Thorne straightens too quickly and begins to shuffle the papers. Instantly, I can tell that he is up to something. He begins to shove things away into his desk, out of my sight. He tries to act casual, as if he’s just cleaning up, but I know that he’s hiding something.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” he replies, trying to sound nonchalant. “Nothing serious. I was reading up a little on an old prophecy. Just passing the time learning some history and educating myself.”

I resist the urge to narrow my eyes, not wanting to give away that I am suspicious. I know he’s trying to play it off, as though he’s simply reading old, boring notes so that I won’t ask any questions. But I see through his charade, even if I won’t tell him that.

“Oh?” I answer brightly, trying to make my voice as vapid as possible. If I sound dumb and clueless, perhaps he’ll lower his guard to tell me more. “What kind of prophecy? What does that mean?” I toy with a loose strand of hair idly, making my eyes big and innocent.

He doesn’t take the bait. “Nothing,” he replies hastily. “It’s just an old prophecy from a long time ago. That two people will bring a new age to Protheka someday, with the help of the gods.”

I can tell that there’s more he isn’t saying. But even the part that he’s revealed is enough to catch my attention. It’s certainly a bizarre prediction, enough to make me very curious about what the rest could be.

“What do you mean? What kind of new age?” I demand, my interest piqued. He picks up my candle, turning away to light it off one of the lamps behind him.

“Oh, it doesn’t matter,” he replies easily, passing the now-lit candle back. It glows warmly in my hands. Before I know it, he’s got his arm around my shoulder, walking me to the door.

“It’s just one of those old legends. The ramblings of some elf a few hundred years ago, who probably had a brain fever and no one knew it. It’s late, we should both be in bed.”

I turn in the doorway, staring at him in surprise. My mouth hangs open slightly, already prepared to argue.

But then the look on his face makes me think better of it. He’s trying to look casual and indifferent, but there’s a steeliness in his gaze, as if he’s daring me to challenge him.

It’s clear that he’s hiding something. If he’s so determined to keep his secrets, though, the best course of action is to let him believe that they are safe. Otherwise, he’ll only bury them deeper.

So, I’ll hide my shovel. And I’ll dig them up later when he isn’t looking.

Even with that resolved, it’s very hard for me to turn off my curiosity. It takes everything in my power to force a smile and nod, politely telling him goodnight.

When I leave his study, I don’t go straight to bed. Instead, I make my way to Anulu’s chamber.

She’s already in bed for the night, but I gently shake her shoulders, not wanting to wait another second. I had to conceal my intrigue from Thorne, but if I hold it in any longer, I might burst in the middle of the night.

“What?” she murmurs sleepily.

“Do you like adventures?” I reply mysteriously, my voice bubbling with excitement.

She sits up, rubbing her eyes, but her face is already brightening. She smiles a little, a curious glint in her eyes. “An adventure?” she echoes with interest.

“I need a favor. That is, if you’re up for the challenge…”