The Great War: Chapter 42
Worn and weary
When Ezra came to visit the first time, Isaac knew it was only a matter of time before that royal pair would make an appearance. And as he stands outside Mathew’s private resting room with his arms folded impatiently, he can only wonder how long it’ll take for them to convince Mathew to return to the castle with them. Ezra was easy; his only concern was over his family missing him. After all, he had just moved to Korodon not long before the royals came to him. But Mathew, while he may be hiding it due to his exhaustion and limited motor functions, is in a state of panic.
The prince, here? Now? What does he want with me? What ploy is this offer? Will he punish me instead? All this and more run through Mathew’s mind as he stares helplessly at Samuel from his cot. And, of course, he’s worried about Anya as well, but he’s trying his best not to let his thoughts stray to his sister.
Being an only child, Isaac doesn’t completely understand the bond between siblings, no matter how many memories he’s sifted through. Yet he can understand the level of guilt and responsibility Mathew is feeling towards his older sibling right now. While the two grew up under the wings of different parents, with the loss of their mother and youngest brother, their father still living on Gardall, leaving Anya all alone with no familial support, and the sudden resurgence of his magical abilities, Mathew’s decision to escape the Guardians was not made lightly. And even then, it’s left him in a state of confusion and fear.
Samuel, however, is concerned about so many other things besides the scuffle that he and Mathew had engaged in but a handful of cycles before. If only there was a being that could bridge this gap in concerns…
Isaac let’s a smile slip as he chuckles to himself, No, I still can’t control myself yet.
“The Spirit…” Anya breathes in awe, though a small ounce of skepticism stirs within her.
“Here, royals are permitted to seek wisdom from the Spirit of Shadow,” Samuel explains. “And if He allows it, a select few beings can also speak with Him. He gave me a list of beings that He would like to speak with, whom I am still seeking out. And, Mathew, I believe you are one of them.”
“And what would the Spirit want from me?” Mathew rasps. “I’m just a…” pirate, he nearly says, but he catches himself. “I’m just a sailor.”
Should I say why? Samuel wonders to himself. The royal remains unsure if he should reveal the true nature of wanting Mathew on his side, for seeing the Spirit would raise this being before him to a level of importance in this war that might scare him out of agreeing to work with him in the first place. But if Samuel lies, he’d only be tricking Mathew into entering a position he might not be fit for.
But we need an experienced sailor… Samuel also argues. Korodon is a farming island first and foremost, with a small amount of fish being exported right behind their grain and cattle. The wizards are not as experienced with sailing as the Guardians are.
Oh, the things one can learn when they can pull back the curtain.
Curious stares land on Isaac as he looks up from the floor, realizing that a hard, thoughtful scowl paints his face. He takes a moment to shift his posture and clear his head. Spending all this time in other being’s minds makes him forget about himself more often than not.
Indeed, he needs better self control, despite everything he knows. His time in front of the Spirit will come eventually, if the island doesn’t fall before then. This fact alone hasn’t helped him in keeping his curiosity to the bare minimum. With no books to serve as his distraction and Anya now reunited with her brother, he’s been left with almost nothing to serve as a control for the noise. It’s this same noise that drove him to remain in his bedroom for the safety of himself and all those around him. Buzzing, droning, irritating his own head. It helps when he stops to listen, but listening means peering into all sorts of private thoughts and feelings a stranger wouldn’t otherwise be privy to.
And it’s not like he can talk to any being about this, either. He doesn’t want to make any being uncomfortable around him or scare them away. Moreover, how would he even begin to explain himself?
“…think about it,” Samuel says as Isaac turns his attention back to the conversation. “We will let you rest now, but we will return in a few cycles.”
“I thought we were going to wait for Ezra,” Devin comments.
“We don’t have to crowd the room,” Samuel replies.
Think about it… Mathew’s thoughts echo. This could always be a trap…
And then the curtain is drawn back, and the two royals appear as Isaac’s side. He turns to face them, trying to appear as casual as he can.
“Are you done?” he asks them.
“Yes. You can go back in if you’d like,” Samuel says. “And if you don’t mind us waiting out here for Ezra…?”
Isaac shakes his head. “That shouldn’t be an issue.”
Striding back to Mathew’s bedside, he sees that the two siblings appear as agitated as their thoughts sound. As Isaac stands there at the foot of the cot, neither of them are willing to meet his questioning gaze.
Anya doesn’t want her brother to leave again. Mathew doesn’t want to die.
“Everything alright?” he asks them.
“I…” Mathew breathes, “would like to rest.”
“But Mathew…” Anya sighs.
“I’m tired, Anya,” he replies. “You can wait for… Ezra outside.”
“But-”
Isaac steps forward and places a firm hand on Anya’s shoulder, causing her words to catch in her throat.
“You brother needs to rest,” he says to her. Biting her bottom lip, Anya slowly releases her grip on Mathew’s hand and rises from her stool. With one last longing look, she allows herself to be guided away from the cot as Mathew quietly watches them from where he lay. Isaac pushes Anya out of the room first. His hand on the curtain, he gives Mathew one last look.
Even though he said he wanted to rest, Mathew’s mind is bright with activity, swirling with worries and doubts and fears. If he’ll even be able to rest, it’s hard to say, but it will most likely be difficult.
Isaac approaches his side once more, the two of them silent as the Illusionist presses his thumb against the icy cold forehead of the sailor. A burst of color and warmth blooms from his mind as Isaac stares long and hard into Mathew’s eyes, searching for a memory.
To pull something from his childhood at this point will be melancholic for him, but they are also the brightest memories that he has. Those of him and his siblings walking along the beach, splashing each other with cold ocean water as their parents sit under the shade of the large evergreens. And the water sparkles like magic as the light of the cycle slowly dwindles, the family sitting together and biting into an assortment of food prepared by their mother, and their father regaling the young siblings with stories of when he used to set sail across Astria. This was when Ingum was hardly old enough to start learning magic, Anya was being shown how to use hers for house cleaning, and Mathew was starting to spar with a wooden blade. It was a simpler time where everything just seemed right.
Isaac gently lifts his thumb as he notices Mathew’s eyes are now closed, his worries having all been melted away as he dreams of his old home and his family whole once more. He’ll have the time to spin himself into another frenzy when he wakes.
With that, Isaac leaves the sailor to his slumber.