LIII. Sunsets on my Path

From the observation lounge of the palaces sixth tower, Ashe watched the return of the distressingly small army with increasing anxiety and anticipation. She had taken to wearing a local style of dress, a pleated silk mantua of ash grey and rust red, voluminous sleeves and a stunning necklace of ruby and gold. Uncomfortable and, to her sensibilities, quite gaudy, she hoped to acclimate herself to the courtly life of humans if she was to make a life with Aichlan. Her hair was pinned up in a mass of tight curls, and of course, her feet were bare. There were some things she was simply not willing to accommodate, stiff leather boots and ungainly heels was one such matter.

The sun was high as the army splintered further, with the Rhodarcian and Order Knights following the road west towards the port. Of the thousands that had marched towards Alfheim, only a few hundred made their way down the brick road to the city gates. Ashe pressed her face to the floor to ceiling window, attempting in vain to see if there were a familiar face among them.

It had been more than a month since Alice led their armies, and nearly twice as long since Aichlan had led the fated expedition into the mountains. Now that they were in sight, she felt a flood of conflicting emotion; fear that Aichlan would not be among them, and hope that his triumphant return would mark the beginning of their new life together.

Dismissing the handmaidens Aislyn had assigned to her, Ashe hiked up her dress and scampered down the winding staircase, bounding down the halls with a hopeful smile and teary eyes.

The sun was beginning its slow march down towards the horizon and Ashe was out of breath by the time she arrived at the staging area. Curious onlookers had followed the weary band of foreigners to the palace barracks, not fully comprehending the nature of their return or even the details surrounding their initial departure. Ashe shoved past the slack jawed onlookers with a mumbled apology, scanning the dirty faces of the wounded men assembled before her. Clerics bustled about offering healings and water, mostly Aes Sidheans and mages, with far too few Colby-Nau warriors amongst them. She spotted Maleah with her brother, Séverin, but they either did not hear or did not want to hear her as she called out to them. Two soldiers carrying a wounded elf on a stretcher prevented her from running over to them, and when the soldiers had passed, the siblings had vanished.

Ashe stomped her foot and threw down her arms as she frantically searched the crowd, her anxiety mounting, her pounding heart roaring in her ears. She tugged at a curl before jogging over to a group of Colby-Nau. They were unknown to her, but they wore the markings of one of the warrior clans that had more or less died out following their losses at Rhode. They quickly averted their gaze and waved her away, ostensibly too busy unloading gear and tending to their wounded. The Aes Sidheans either cursed her for getting it the way or directed her elsewhere with curt civility.

Her patience had long since run out, and great heat vanes wafted from her body as she stomped through the impromptu staging area in search of answers. Upon spotting Alice and Eth standing beside a strange, multi-colored wagon, she relaxed somewhat and made a beeline towards the mage. A brown skinned boy with golden eyes helped Donough unload a long crate from the wagon, it was made of scrap wood, with icy fog rolling from the cracks. Ashe slowed as she approached, placing a hand to her breast, hoping to still her beating heart. The crate elicited a certain dread in her, one she could not place. Even the way the two men handled the crate was strange, far too delicate, reverent even; traits and qualities not usually embodied by Donough Stone-Wood.

Alice looked up and froze, her eyes a radiant green, became subtly tinged with blue, her lips trembled as she opened her arms in an embrace. Ashe shook her head and slowly backed away while Alice approached, tears streaming down the mage's face as sparks leapt from the corner of her eyes.

“Where is Aichlan?” Ashe smacked away Alice’s arms open in embrace. “What’s in that box?”

Donough and the boy attempted to hastily carry the crate off, but Ashe adamantly blocked their path. She shrugged off Alice’s feeble attempts to hold her back and slammed her hands down on the crate. Donough swore as the boy dropped his end, nearly crushing his toes.

“What is in this bloody box Donough?” Her lip trembled as she wrung the fabric of her dress in her hands. “Where is Aichlan?”

“Zuri, pick up yer end lad.” Donough said gruffly. “Go with Alice, she’ll explain everythin’.”

Ashe pushed Zuri back and jabbed Donough in the chest. “Is that him? Why is my man in a box Donough!”

“He’s dead Ashe.”

Alice broke down and collapsed to her knees at Donough’s blunt delivery. Ashe stepped back, her green eyes wide as the finality of his words slowly wormed their way to her heart. Dead.

Ashe gasped, unaware that she had been holding her breath. “Open it.” She aimed a trembling finger at the crate and took several steps back. “Open the box Donough.”

Zuri sighed and wiped his face on a handkerchief. “Lady, you don’t wanna see him like this. Let us get ‘im cleaned up at the temple first.”

“Open the fucking box!” Ashe shrieked, causing a tense silence to fall over the square. “Let me see him.”

Donough sighed and lowered his end of the impromptu coffin, using a dagger to pry open the lid. Alice cried and sobbed, begging him not to as Ashe took several hesitant steps forward. Aichlan’s body was bruised and covered in dried blood, concentrated around his throat. The coffin was packed with straw and several talismans that glowed a light-blue, and appeared to be the source of the cold. He looked almost as bad as when they had first met. She caressed his cold cheek with her hands, unable to shed the hope that his blue eyes would open, and his lips would part in a sly grin at any moment.

The coffin was resealed, and his corpse was carried away by several Colby-Nau and Aes Sidheans; taken to the temple to be washed and dressed for funeral.