WiP - Another 366 Days of Flash Fiction: Chosen Exile

From science fiction to fantasy, flash fiction is where I go to play with words...and ideas.

Chosen Exile

Selene had thought she’d never see daylight, again…or feel the touch of the sun on her skin. She wasn’t even sure it was what she wanted, save that the sound of multi-legged skittering behind her was worse than anything the surface promised.

“Give me your hand.” The command came in a voice familiar enough to make her heart lurch and sink at the same time.

When she remembered what she’d done, what she’d fled…

Tears prickled at her eyes, and she glanced back.

“Selene!” Desperation filled the word, desperation and a hint of sorrow. “Please!”

Grief?

She looked up, the familiarity of the hand stretched toward her bringing remembered security she’d felt at its touch, and sadness welled within her. Would memories be all she was left with?

Another glance back, and she leapt for the hand. Whatever shame awaited her, whatever rejection, it was better than dying to a thousand claws and fangs.

Strong fingers closed around her forearm and she clasped the hard metal of a gauntlet in return. A grunt of effort followed, undercut by the equally hard chant of a wizard casting fast. Fire flashed past her as she was pulled up and into the light. An arm wound around her waist, pulling her close to an armored chest, and she was caught up in the turn that followed.

“Lord Ambrecht…” Another familiar voice, one belonging to the valet who’d tried to stop her flight. He hesitated and she raised her head to glance from her lord to him.

The look of grim determination on her lord’s face boded ill for someone.

But not me, she realized, when he shot her a glance so full of relief and love, she wondered what she’d done to deserve it.

The valet hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“I am sure,” Ambrecht replied, “And grateful we reached her first.”

“But it was a mistake,” the valet reasoned. “Surely…”

“You know our master’s penchant for forgiveness,” Ambrecht answered, and Selene shuddered.

Their ‘master’ had no such thing. Failure was met with death, and he elevated the next person in line. She knew her fate if Ambrecht chose to return her.

At least it was more merciful than what the swarm had offered.

“We need to leave before the others find her,” Ambrecht replied. “And you need to be far from here by then.”

“You know that won’t work,” the wizard put in, his dark eyes solemn. He indicated the pack mule tied to a tree. “We both knew what our loyalty would cost.”

Ambrecht’s face twisted in anguish. “But…”

The wizard stepped away, his hands weaving the pattern he needed to open a portal.

“Argue when we’re on the other side,” he instructed, “But this exile is of our choosing. A mad king is no king at all, and one day his rule will end.”

“But not soon enough to save your bride,” Beren added, crossing to the mule and leading it into the oblong of light. “Come.”

“And hurry,” the wizard said, through gritted teeth. “I cannot hold it for much longer.”

Ambrecht went, not relinquishing Selene as he walked forward, and she did not resist, her heart hammering as they passed through the magic, and it snapped closed behind them.

“He did not follow?”

Light flared and died, spitting the wizard out at their feet. His robes and hair smoked and he trembled with fatigue and pain.

“He found us,” he whispered, “F…found me, but I broke the gate so he could not follow.”

Ambrecht relinquished his grip on Selene to kneel beside the fallen mage.

“I will carry you,” he said softly. “There will be help nearby.”

“And I have potions,” Beren cut in, raising a plain clay vial to the wizard’s lips. “We have a day’s walk to the monastery.”

“W…walk?” the wizard asked as Ambrecht set him carefully on his feet.

“No,” Ambrecht replied. “This is why we brought the mule.”

The wizard shook his head, but didn’t argue as they helped him mount.

“All for a girl,” he muttered.

“My girl,” Ambrecht returned, sliding his arm back around Selene’s waist, “Even without her kingdom.”

“I didn’t want it,” Selene told him. “You know that. I didn’t even know what they were planning until they introduced me. I would nev…never…”

Her voice broke, and she hid her face against him.

“I know,” Ambrecht told her grimly. “It is only a pity your half-brother does not.”

She stilled.

“Why?” she asked, lifting her face to meet his gaze, then shifting it to Beren and the mage. “Why would any of you do this f…for me?”

Beren shrugged, and indicated Ambrecht. “He loves you,” he said simply. He indicated the mage. “And he won’t let his brother have an adventure without him.”

“And you?” Selene asked, and Beren ducked his head, blushing.

“He is my lord,” he replied, “And I swore an oath of service to Staravan.”

Ambrecht snorted, and Beren blushed even more deeply.

The mage laid an arm over the valet’s shoulders, and not for support.

“And he doesn’t believe I can be trusted not to chasing the next handsome face I see,” he stated, making their relationship plain.

“You need my cooking,” the valet retorted, indicating Ambrecht with a dismissive gesture. “He can’t cook to save anyone.”