XVII. This Cut is the Deepest

Maleah tightened her mink muffler against a sudden gale, the crisp air was like a knife as it cut across the hard packed snow and barren field. Her ensemble of wool petticoat, muffler and fuzzy black ear muffs was fashionable, but minimally effective in wintry wastelands that were northern Sorn. As much as she wanted to curse Clarissa and her strict policy of form over function, if not for the gift she would be out in this frigid mess with far less.

The previous night had been unbearable. The few fires they managed to sustain provided little if any warmth. The previous week they had the fortune of quartering in the few villages and towns that lined the road to the border, but after crossing it a day ago, they were met with nothing but a sea of blinding white. Behind her, several horses snorted and pawed at the packed ice under hoof, eager to begin movement. She wholeheartedly agreed.

She lazily looked over her troops, mostly Duvachellian cavalry and some Rhodarcian mercenaries, milling about as the last of the camp was dismantled. It would be a daunting task of command for a woman, particularly a foreign one. Especially for a Xanavien woman. Women weren’t well respected on the field of battle, and while many noblewomen held armies in Duvachellé, tactics and fighting was strictly a men’s only affair. She briefly pondered the logic in their prejudice, or rather the lack thereof. Her lineage at least was not widely known, however, she was still clearly a woman. Something that quite a few soldiers from Rhodacium and Duvachellé found offensive for some reason.

She removed a mitten from her hand and ran it through her tangled locks. She swore and tugged at a particularly stubborn knot. She removed her other mitten and gave the knot her full attention, equally annoyed by the tenacity of the knot as she was at the subpar grooming habits that brought it into existence.

“You should wash it.”

Maleah spun around to see who had spoken. She was surprised and a bit confused to find a hooded monk, his eyes closed and his hands clasped in prayer before him.

“It’s quite long, though it’s beginning to look like Admiral Donnelyn’s. In the back at least.”

Maleah self-consciously reached for one of her dreaded locks that hung to the small of her back. “It doesn’t matter.”

The monk made no moves to acknowledge her or even open his eyes. Maleah scowled, irritated by his nonchalance. She recognized him as someone called Rassvette, but couldn’t be certain as they’d only bumped into each other maybe once before.

“Hey,” she called sourly. “How about looking at me when you got shit to talk.”

The monk smiled, but his eyes remained closed. “My apologies Miss Miroshnik—”

“Don’t call me that.” She shot back icily.

Rassvette raised his hands to his chest in a gesture of surrender, but did not lose his grin. “My apologies Maleah, I forget you are in hiding of sorts.”

“Who are you, and how do you know me?” she asked dryly, uninterested in his apologies.

“Brother Rassvette, of The Order of Dawn.” He bowed, eyes still closed. “It is an honor to meet you officially daughter of the Light.”

“Honor indeed.” Maleah sneered with smiling eyes.

Rassvette stood, unperturbed, his arms clasped within his voluminous sleeves. Maleah frowned, unsure why he kept his eyes closed, but certain he was mocking her in some way with the gesture.

“Why’re your eyes closed monk? You blind?”

Rassvette laughed aloud and shook his head. “No, not at all, though I do wish to experience the world as if I were. Much like Saint Cecily, the blind swordswoman of ages past.”

Maleah turned her attention to the soldiers as they began to form up for the march. “Why? You got eyes, so use ‘em.”

“It is part repentance, part training.” He slowly opened his eyes, blinking against the harsh glare off the snow and ice. “The positive being that the world looks all the more beautiful when you finally open them again.”

She blushed and turned away from him and his oddly disarming smile. “What the fuck are you staring at?”

Her words came out far more girlish than she had intended, lacking the desired bite such a rebuke should have.

“My apologies, I was temporarily rendered mute by your beauty.”

“Flattery, that’ll get you far.”

She was dismayed to find her attempt at sarcasm had also failed. It was even more unnerving that he was having such an effect on her, and she wondered if it was just a residual state of drunkenness from her month’s long binge.

“You are from northern Xanavene, are you not?”

“I am.” She cast a quizzical gaze in his direction. “Why?”

He smiled his disarming smile once more, and Maleah felt as if she would melt. She had never really paid much attention to him, all she knew was he was some monk they picked up that drank too much. However, he had a very classically handsome look, and a very mischievous air that was oddly appealing.

“It is your eyes.” He continued. “And your hair color, not typical among our species.”

He paused, feigning deep thought. “Unless…”

“Unless what?”

She was disgusted with herself for how much weight she was putting into this random monk’s opinions. In any other case she would have told them to fuck off by now. Then again, the interaction was oddly normal, despite the abnormal circumstances. Randomly flirting, if this was considered flirting, with a stranger was not an experience she thought she would have again.

“Unless of course you’ve done as Cardinal La Roux.”

“No.” She said quickly and definitively. “It is all natural.”

He nodded absently as he looked her over once more. “Indeed it is…”

She folded her arms over her chest as the seconds ticked by and his gaze lingered a bit too long. The novelty was beginning to wear off.

“Well?”

“Oh, yes, of course.” He stuttered, trying to recall his train of thought. “You bear traits of Dusk Elves.”

“Excuse me? She demanded incredulously.

“A race of Eloi born. Nocturnal beings able to manipulate all manner of dark magic’s just as the Colby-Nau wield fire and sunder soil.”

“Never heard of them.”

She shifted her weight and absently angled her hip towards Rassvette. He swallowed hard and she could tell it was with great effort that he kept his eyes locked on her own.

“Likely because they were exiled from Silex long before the collapse.” Rassvette shrugged and offered a sheepish smile. “It is rumored, or at least was rumored that they fled to Virides Occuli.”

Maleah laughed aloud, and the monk visibly deflated. “The moon? And how would they accomplish that? By jumping?” She laughed again. “Or perhaps they flew?”

“Who can say?” Rassvette cleared his throat and put on a stoic face as he gazed at the horizon. “They had a great deal more magic then than we have in the current era.

She frowned at his non answer reply and turned her gaze to the sky. Cloud cover obscured the pale green disk, though the faint glow of Aurum’s crescent was just visible through the grey.

“What about Aurum then?”

Rassvette followed her gaze skyward. “Would you believe it if I told you they once mined it for a fuel of some sort?”

Maleah brushed her hair from her face and gave the monk a doubtful stare.“Where did you hear these absurdities?”

Rassvette squirmed, scratching at his cheek as he avoided her gaze. “There are people from Agrardya that study ancient texts and relics from that time. These are just a few of the hypothesis and speculations they’ve made.”

Maleah slowly shook her head and looked up into the sky. She brushed a bang from her face again as she debated whether she should speak the words already on her tongue.

“You and my brother would have a lot to talk about then.” Her voice cracked as she was forced to recall the better times and confront the reality of what was to come.

Rassvette nodded.“Indeed, your brother is who pioneered many of these theories.”

Maleah stopped abruptly and grabbed the monk by the shoulder. He nearly fell over in the snow as she stood, her mouth open to speak but no words came. She had questions, both about his knowledge of her brother’s work and the details of his theories.

Rassvette pulled his leg out from a snowbank and shook it off. “Have you not read any of his books?”

Maleah looked away, her face flushed from the cold and embarrassment. She hadn’t read anything more complicated than a road sign in the past six years or so, let alone the dense thousand plus page bricks her brother called books.

“No, and I doubt you have.” She turned her eyes to the monk. “I thought those of the order were discouraged from reading literary works out of Asketill?”

“Discouraged yes, though not forbidden. How do you think the Brothers of Borealis learned combat arts?” Rassvette smiled, eliciting a blushing smirk from Maleah. “You certainly have a beautiful smile.”

Maleah forced a straight face at the remark, well aware he wasn’t taking her seriously. His lingering grin however informed her that she wasn’t able to force the mirth from her eyes entirely. Fortunately, a squire leading her horse interrupted them before he could press his oddly effective game of seduction.

“That’ll be enough of that monk.” She said as she took the reins.

Rassvette took a step back, raising his hands in mock surrender, a sly smirk on his face. “As you wish dear captain.”

The squire cleared her throat. “Your horse hath been re-shod and our men await your orders captain.”

The squire placed his index, pointer, and ring fingers to his right eyebrow, showing the back of his hand in the Duvachellian salute before departing. Maleah nodded and adjusted her collar. It was cold as hell. Her forces were an odd amalgamation of her own riders and loaned Calvary from Duvachellé, including the young squire provided to her. Then there were the Rhodarcian mercenaries. She had not spoken to their leader, and he had made no attempts to contact her, for which she was grateful. So long as they fought when the time came, she did not care what they did.

“Where are you from, monk?” She asked, wishing to keep the conversation going.

The humor left Rassvette’s eyes as he took several steps forward, maneuvering himself behind her. She raised an eyebrow in surprise, wondering if he would be so foolishly forward as to steal a kiss.

“Hallthor.”

Maleah’s eyes went wide as the reason for his repositioning became apparent. Without hesitation, Maleah reached for her lance, only for Rassvette to pin her against her horse. She jerked to wrest her hand free from his own, but his grip was firm.

He pressed against her and calmly whispered into her ear. “Yes dear captain, I am aware of our nation's turbulent pasts as well as Xanavene’s recent atrocities.”

Maleah lifted her leg to kick him in the knee, and found herself flipped upside down and abruptly on the ground. The monk knew something of combat it seemed. She took a deep breath and temporarily ceased her struggles. There was no way he was stupid enough to attempt something here, unless of course he had a death wish.

“What do you want monk?” she hissed. “To kill me before getting inevitably run down?”

“I am a man of the cloth captain; I am not here to shed blood in vain patriotism. Saying nothing of the fact that you strike me as a kind hearted and intelligent woman. Despite appearances.”

“Then why have you attempted to pin me?”

“Because,” Rassvette smiled. “If I hadn’t, I’d be dead by now.

Maleah snorted and opened her hands. Rassvette in turn loosened his grip and took a few hesitant steps backwards. In an instant, Maleah was on her feet and snatched her spear from her saddle, whipping around to aim it at Rassvettes throat. She was irritated to find her anger quelled in the face of his sheepish grin and hands raised in surrender.

She was becoming annoyed and slightly concerned at this man’s charms and effect on her. He was by no means unattractive, though she knew she didn’t like him in that sense, they had just met after all.

“You are a very dangerous woman.” Rassvette teased. “I see why so many go out of their way to avoid you.”

Maleah scoffed and angrily pushed him out of the way. “But not you? A Pity.”

“Oh no!” Rassvette said with a laugh. “I’m terrified!”

Maleah frowned, certain that he was mocking her.

“No! Really!” he added, sensing her misgivings. “I’m just the type of person to pick up a deadly serpent of paradise to admire its coloration.”

Maleah laughed aloud, certain that he was having fun at her expense. It had been some time since she was in such good humor.

* * *