A Realm of Stone and Tears by Emily Whartynne

Author:Emily Whartynne [Whartynne, Emily]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-09-05T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 25

Arasyll couldn’t believe her own daring as she stood outside the infirmary. Classes had already started so the halls were empty. She eased the door open; morning light flooded the infirmary through the large windows. The sunlight had bleached the stones, here they were paler than the rest of the castle’s ancient masonry. Wrought iron, narrow beds lined the walls, the hush of the infirmary broken only by the crackle of burning wood in the old fire place. Arasyll tread softly until she stood over the sleeping figure of Thomas Brecken. Stark daylight revealed injuries that the night had hidden. Scratches stretched across his left cheek and an ugly scab clung to his earlobe, dark purple bruises contrasted against his milk-pale skin.

Arasyll gently shook him awake as she said, “how are you feeling today?

Brecken groggily opened his eyes and then bolted upright when he saw her. The sudden movement dragged a gasp of pain from his lips.

“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have startled you.” Arasyll said as she began dragging the small table with the pewter jug on it closer to Brecken’s bed.

He stared open mouthed at her. “It wasn’t a dream, last night really happened.” He mumbled.

She dropped her satchel on his bed and proceeded to pull out a bottle of ink, a quill and a few sheets of parchment which she carefully placed on the small table. Arasyll flicked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and turned to Brecken, “write to your uncle and tell him to come and take you home.”

“You are real,” he breathed. “I didn’t imagine you.”

“Well of course I am,” she tapped the table impatiently, “now write.”

Brecken cocked his head to the side and scrutinised her with narrowed eyes. She was surprised when he didn’t challenge her or ask any questions, instead he gingerly threw back the covers and sat up and began to write. The room filled with the rough scratchy sound of a quill on parchment. Arasyll released an inward sigh of relief. She couldn’t believe how easy it had been to get Brecken to comply. The sooner he left the Academy the better. How many more like him? All those gaunt faced boys with pain filled eyes, wandering through the corridors like wraiths, shadows of their former selves. How can I help them? There was nothing she could do, no one listened. Is this how the young boys feel alone and vulnerable?

“I’ve finished,” Brecken’s voice cut through her thoughts.

She picked up the letter and fanned her hands over the parchment and blew on the wet ink to speed up the drying.

Brecken shivered and climbed back into bed drawing the covers up to his chin. “There isn’t any point you know, that letter isn’t going anywhere.”

Arasyll raised an eyebrow. “You don’t believe that for a moment, otherwise you wouldn’t have written it.”

Brecken watched her with wary eyes, “who are you?”

“A friend.”

Brecken’s face suddenly lit up with a grin. “It was you, you’ve been leaving me food.”

Arasyll bit her lip, I’m in so much trouble.

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