Flashback Luminescent

[Verena Lorak]

Luminescent
69th of Winter, 509 A.V.

The sun was just sinking under the thick of trees, casting reddish lights in the sky, streaking it with orange and gold. Lying beneath a massive tree, Verena Lorak watched as the world darkened into the night. It threatened to swallow the small lantern light whole. A symphony of the evening started playing, making her shiver.

A thick journal lay open beside her, scrawled in a sharp writing and decorated with a depiction of an eyeball in perfect detail. Lorana had given it to Verena for her birthday and she had spent the last two days buried in it. Her older sister had said that the book had been in the hands of the Lorak for years, some even say it had belonged to the very first Lorak. No matter the case, the journal was indeed ancient and heavy with endless knowledge in dozens of different handwritings. The first pages were absolutely fragile, all yellowed and crinkled. The leather bindings were new, however - a proof that Lorana had probably sewed more pages into the book.

Her head was now crowded with names of herbs and their properties and how to use them. It had been an exhausting read for the past bell. Chamomile for fever and fatigue. Wild beets for burns. Oregano for poisonous bites. Belladonna and hemlock and monkshoods for easing pain. Yallow and oak for infections. She could’ve sworn there had been at least a dozen more.

She would’ve headed to her uncle’s greenhouse if it wasn’t for the sudden appearance of one the house guards. Verena didn’t recognize him. They all looked the same to her except for Luca, the head guard. He bowed hastily, with one hand still rested on the hilt of his sword. “Lady Verena, someone is requesting for you.”

“Who?”

“A Paille. Caedmon Paille. He said you knew him.”

Confused and somewhat surprised, Verena followed the guard’s lead. What did Caedmon want with her? She certainly did not expect him to turn up at Whitesnake. Instinctively, Verena reached for the ring he had given her mere two days ago. It still felt somewhat foreign, but she wore it all the same.

Almost right after the party ended, Verena had inquired her brother about the young Paille. Zorane had merely looked at quizzically and asked how did she come to know the minor Dynast. Caedmon was some sort of cousin of Steven Paille, he had said, and apparently also an excellent warrior and musician. Zorane had met the young man a few times, performing in a few events.

The guard led her toward the front of the Lorak’s estate, where Verena spotted a figure accompanied by a tall horse. The markings on his left arm clearly showed his lineage as a Drykas and a Paille. Upon closer inspection, Caedmon was clearly talking to his horse rather excitedly. It seemed like he heard them coming because he straightened suddenly. Caedmon smirked when he finally turned his head. Under the sunset light, his hair looked like spun gold. “Remember me, Lady Verena?”

Of course she remembered him. His smile and his twinkling eyes and his enchanting voice. He was one the few people who didn’t give her odd looks or ignored her as if she didn’t exist. “Yes. What are you doing here?”

“I was thinking that we can go for a walk. I have something to show you.”

“We can’t. It’s almost supper. You should’ve come when there was still light,” she replied tersely. Verena was ready to turn away, but he reached for her hand gently. Taken aback, she yanked her hand away and turned a cold gaze on him. “Besides, I barely know you.”

He raised both of his arms in the air in a surrendering motion, but the smile was still there. “Alright, you don’t like to get touched. But what I want to show you can only be seen in the dark. What can I do to persuade you to come?”

What Caedmon didn’t know was that by his mere insistence, he already had Verena hooked. He intrigued her in so many ways that she couldn’t describe. It was odd enough that he was acting like they were friends and even odder that she actually felt like she wanted to be friends with him. It was annoying enough seeing Zorane and Calisha get visited by Freeborns and Dynasty alike, while Verena mostly kept to herself in her room.

“Just think of it as a birthday present.”

“You already gave me a birthday present and you said the exact same thing.”

The Paille merely shrugged. “Guess I am a predictable man.” He tapped his foot a couple of times before adding, “It will be worth your time.”

Verena sighed and motioned at the lone guard to leave. He bowed once and walked away. “Very well. Where are we going?”

Caedmon’s grin stretched wider. “If I say it’s a surprise will you stop asking?”

“No.”

“Then we’re going to the beach.” He then turned toward his horse. “You can ride, right?”

She looked up at the massive stallion and took a step back. It seemed to regard her with intelligent eyes. Unfortunately, that didn’t make her less anxious about the idea of sitting atop the horse. “I do not ride.” Nor was she ever expected to before. Carriages had always been her mode of transportation. “And I am wearing a dress.”

“Don’t be afraid. I promise you, Gavant is a gentle beast,” Caedmon assured with a hint of amusement laced in his voice. Even under the darkening sky, his eyes glimmered like silver. Everything aside, she had to admit that she found him almost attractive. He gestured at her, then the horse. “The dress should not be a problem. Now may I?”

Verena had barely nodded when the Paille gripped her waist and hoisted her up onto the saddle. A startled yelp escaped her lips and the horse seemed to neigh impatiently in reply. Unlike her, Caedmon hoisted himself up the horse with an experienced ease and sat in front of her.

The rational part of her questioned how easily she seemed to trust the young man. It was quite unlike herself to take interest so easily in someone. Yet, the other part of her longed for a friendship, for a companionship she so lacked.

Now that Verena was paying attention, she realized that the horse was missing something. “Why don’t your horse have reins?”

“He doesn’t need it. Am I right, Gavant?” The Paille patted the horse’s mane and then it lurched into motion.

She thought that maybe, maybe this was not such a great idea.