Even the Brave have Fears

The ship from Elakin was just like Dulcie – excessive. Glittering gold covered every edge, while intricate carvings graced the wood. The planks were like cushions, velvet carpet lining each. Even the sail held some glamor, its material sapphire silk.

Roe sat with Dulcie, who was in the middle of sailing to an Elders’ gathering, in the lower deck. Water dripped from her damp hair and onto the blanket wrapped around her, while a grinning Dulcie toyed with an elaborate goblet of wine. She eventually raised it, jewels dangling from her wrists as she took a small sip.

“Are you interested in a drink, Roe darling?” she asked once she set down the cup, leaving a red lipstick stain along its rim.

“No, Elder. As I have told you, I don’t drink.”

No matter how long Roe had known her, it still felt unbecoming to refer to her as such. Even for the typical standards of the Elders, Dulcie – indistinguishable from someone in their 20s – had beyond pushed the limit. Roe always found it creepy.

“Ah, that’s right. Silly me, I’ve forgotten you lack the ability to enjoy yourself,” she leaned back in the chair, her nonchalant smirk still present. “You ought, however. After everything you’ve been through. Why not?”

“I already intend to.”

Dulcie quirked up an eyebrow. “Really? Well, if it isn’t a miracle! Tell me, what’s caused the change?”

“I am… Engaged?”

Even she couldn’t believe what she was saying.

“That’s true, right? He didn’t get on one knee or anything… But it must still count?” she thought.

Dulcie couldn’t hold back her laughter. Roe didn’t know whether it was genuine or laced with scorn. With her, it was always hard to tell.

“You’re getting married? For what? Seems rather pointless, if you ask me. There’s just no reason for Seris to raise up warriors anymore.”

“Actually, childbearing isn’t the purpose of my marriage,” Roe said, straightening. “It is – traditional, so to speak.”

“For love, you mean?” she chuckled again, “How unusual for a Guardian, yet also terribly unsurprising, given the times.”

“Not as ‘unusual’ as a Reaper killing that many people without care.”

Roe was bewildered at the sight. All the Weavers, lying dead on the ship – caused by an instantaneous detachment of all their threads by the hands of Dulcie. The skill made them – the Reapers – a force to be reckoned with, but it was only to be used in the utmost dire circumstances. Pirate raids? Wasn’t one of them.

“Oh, darling, darling… Our rules are bound to be abandoned. As of now, they are no more than fragments of the past.”

She stood up and strolled behind Roe’s chair, resting her palms on its corners. “I know you’re aware enough to realize this. You’re going to do the same by running off with your precious Alec… And leaving me all alone.”

“How did you know I was—”

“You made it oh-so obvious. The avoidance of eye contact, the awkward posture, and why, the news of your merry engagement just confirmed it. Were you even going to say goodbye?”

There was no escaping that careful gaze that caught everything about her. It was like she was psychic. But she wasn’t, making her all the more terrifying – and Roe hated to admit it.

“After this trip to Seris, I was going to, Elder.”

“How considerate. But you forgot one, very important thing. Care to guess what it is?”

Dulcie continued before she could respond,

“Where I stand amongst your… Priorities. I believe our dynamic has been well-established, wouldn’t you agree? I call, you come, I command, you obey,” she placed a hand over her forehead, “Who will I rely on without you? Am I to be left afraid and vulnerable?”

Roe wanted to roll her eyes at that. “There isn’t a soul who would dare cross you, Elder. Not unless they were so stupid that you’d have to feel pity for them.”

It was true, and only made her obsession with her more confusing – there was no practicality in a Guardian watching over someone so powerful. But as always, it was duty first, and questions never.

“Yet here you are, doing exactly that,” she said calmly.

Roe shrunk to the size of a pebble.

“No, you misunderstand me. It’s as you said, isn’t it? About—” her heartbeat quickened as Dulcie leaned closer, the Elder’s dark hair grazing her shoulder, “about… the abandoned rules and – the fragments—”

“Indeed, I did say that. But what I didn’t say is that it applied to you and me. You see, don’t you?” She pulled back, the eerie smile still on her face. “Have you been taking care of yourself?”

That sudden question, which she knew all too well, could make her jump.

“Yes, Elder.”

“Show me.”

It was the most uncomfortable part of their encounters, but nonetheless, Roe stood, the blanket falling off her. The pearly armor slowly deteriorated until nothing remained, its threads returning to her body. The simple fabric of her clothes did little to help her from feeling horribly exposed.

Dulcie came forward, inspecting every inch of her like a dressmaker does to their model. Roe never comprehended why she cared so much about her “health.” If even a minor injury was seen, it’d be straight away to a Mender, whether she wanted it or not.

“That certainly isn’t the case… You look like a complete disaster,” she said, clicking her tongue as she observed the many cuts on her torso. “Before you meet me again in Elakin, have that Mender fellow treat you.”

She knew that was going to come up. Of course it would. Why would she respect her wishes? Her eyes shifted from Dulcie’s violet ones to the floor. The effect she had on her was embarrassing, and even worse, Roe just couldn’t shake it off. But there was no time to be at her service for purposes nonexistent. Things were different. They had to be.

“You look like you have something to say,” Dulcie noted.

“Well, Elder… I’m afraid that – I must decline. For valid reason, which you already correctly assumed.”

The ship rocked harshly, and a lantern went out. Dulcie stared at her, the corner of her lips twitching ever so slightly, yet her face held no lightheartedness. Her eyes grew as cold as Showyth – only for a short while, before they warmed like Visea. Deceptively.

Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out an object Roe saw many times – a bronze pin with the engraving of a vulture. Odd symbolism, she thought. Dulcie stuck the button onto Roe’s shirt, giving her shoulder a pat afterward.

“Use Highland Pass this time. Just this once, my dear. It won’t kill you.”

The pin was both a blatant ignoration of her denial, and access to the route without charge. As long as it was worn, a traveler wouldn’t need to worry about “trespassing.” Aside from receiving a High Reaper’s favor, Roe had no clue about the qualifications one needed to earn it. It seemed downright random, if anything.

“Take two, actually. The other will be for the Mender with you – Yohan, was it?”

“He is on a mission of his own, and may have no use for Highland.”

“Nonsense, surely he will.”

…

“Very well, Elder.”

The thorn in her side remained.