Amber Waves - 9. Chapter 9

AARON

The elf sat under the early sunrise, his eyes closed against the light that was growing. He felt restless again, as though his wolf was pacing inside him. Nearly three months since his first shift, Aaron had yet to learn how to actually control the beast that shared his body.

“Look, we’re outside. You like the outdoors. Now sit down and let me think,” the prince muttered.

It didn’t work that way, and Aaron knew it. Why would a wolf listen to him? He was nothing special, just an elf who had gotten lucky enough to be chosen as the next ruler of the world. Or unlucky. He was going to go with unlucky at this point.

The elf’s stomach roared, and he let out an answering growl.

“No, we’re staying here until the sun rises. I want to see it, and you’re not chasing me away from this,” he scowled.

A breeze washed over the cliff in front of him, rustling the elf’s long hair. He gathered the strands distractedly, wrapping a hair tie around the base to hold the hair from his face. Taking a deep breath, Aaron cracked open his eyes, blinking at the sudden warmth of the sun as it broke over the distant horizon.

“Fine, we’ll go inside now…”

Rising to his feet, the elf let out a startled yelp.

Dowager Finley let out a quiet chuckle as he slowly stood up beside the prince. The neko’s tail flicked lazily, Finley staring out over the cliff edge.

“Do you make a habit of talking to yourself?” the old king asked in amusement.

“Only since I got this blasted wolf in my head,” Aaron muttered, turning back toward the palace.

“It’s not a good habit for royalty. You never know who might be listening.”

Finley stooped down suddenly, picking up a pebble from the ground. He tossed it casually off the cliff, and Aaron heard a sudden whirring noise as a black object slammed into the cliff.

“Oops,” Finley smirked. “I seem to have startled someone down below.”

Aaron let out a quiet sigh, picking up the pace. He didn’t want to spend his days fighting errant drones. Sure, Finley had already done his job; he was retired and Aaron wouldn’t dream of interrupting that retirement. But the elf was only just beginning his life as a royal, and if he was going to be dealing with responsibility for the rest of his life, he aspired to greater things than knocking a couple drones out of the sky.

He waited until he was inside before asking his next question.

“Is Mother gone already?”

“Yes, she left with Jennifer a few minutes ago.”

“Oh. I thought she was going to eat breakfast with us,” Aaron frowned. “I have that report due in a couple hours and she said she’d look over it-”

“Prince Aaron,” Finley interrupted, stressing the elf’s title. “Your mother is a very busy person. I don’t think she can take the time to check your homework.”

“What about you?” Aaron challenged. “I mean, you remember your time in office, right?”

“And I suppose you think I have time to look through your work.”

“Well you do,” the elf pointed out. “I mean, when you’re not busy knocking people in the head with rocks.”

Finley let out a long breath, shaking his head.

“Fine. We’ll eat dinner and I’ll help you with… the taxes for 1402, was it?”

Aaron nodded quietly.

“Thank you.”

“Well I can’t exactly let you run the world without any kind of training,” Finley grunted. “Go wash up before breakfast; you have dirt all over you.”

Aaron hurried through the palace, dodging through a group of servants as he darted down the hall to his rooms. Ducking inside, the elf washed his hands quickly, before changing his clothes. Loosening his hair, Aaron ran a brush through it before tying it back up out of the way.

Stepping out of the bathroom, he pulled the curtain over the balcony door back, allowing morning light to flood his room. The elf paused briefly in his morning routine, watching Itumak slip through a gate. The neko glanced around quickly, before racing across the street toward the orphanage, and Aaron let out a quiet sigh. At least Itumak was taking his punishment seriously.

Aaron hurried back downstairs, slipping into the dining room. He sat down as servants carried a pair of plates into the room. Smiling his thanks, the elf stabbed into a sausage, his stomach roaring in approval as he took a bite.

“You’ve been eating more elven fare lately,” Finley noted quietly.

“I was told it was better for a werewolf than poultry,” Aaron replied, swallowing a mouthful of sausage. “Itumak was always making me eat masala or squab. Won’t let me eat sushi though.”

“Do you really consider yourself an elf of Astara?”

“What do you mean?” Aaron frowned. “I’m an elf. I live in Astara. Why wouldn’t I be an Astaran elf?”

“The entire reason you are here is to bring the races together,” Finley said quietly. “If that is not what you plan on doing-”

“I love Itumak. I really do. I know I’ve been bad at showing it, but he turned me into a monster,” Aaron protested. “But I have always been, and will always be, a friend of nekos and humans. Are you implying that I wouldn’t do what I can to make sure everyone is cared for?”

“That is exactly what I am implying, Prince Aaron. Anyone who was at court yesterday saw you punishing a pair of nekos for an infraction. You asked for a reasonable punishment, then added a punishment on top of that. What are the nekos supposed to think?” Finley snapped.

“Mother said it was a little heavy handed, but still reasonable. I know both of them. Renshin loves being on his own; confining him isn’t much of a punishment. Itumak would see it as a slap on the hand and go about his business. I had to do something to actually teach them their place.”

“And what place is that?”

“Itumak asked for me to sentence them, believing I would play favourites. I will not play favourites, and I will make sure the entire world knows it. Being a ruler is not about the perks for me. It is a responsibility I intend to take seriously.”

Finley leaned back in his chair, nodding slowly.

“As long as you sentence them with the right goal in mind. You punished Itumak. Renshin got off light compared to him. You were angry at Itumak, and you let the world know it. Next time, think before you speak.”

“The point is for there not to be a next time-”

“No. The point is to give the people what they need. A bridge between the races. And you’re off to a bad start.”

ITUMAK

“Lord of Graves, I give you this offering!”

Itumak’s ears flicked at a sudden cry, the sound of punches drawing him quickly to the orphanage’s shrine to Zasar. A young elf and a human were fighting in front of the altar to the god of death, a plush cat sitting on the altar among bits of rotten food and dead insects.

“Hey! Knock it off you two!” the neko snapped, hurrying toward them as he dropped the bag meant for cleaning the altar. “Sara, let go of Jaime.”

“He started it!” the human snapped. “He punched me!”

“She stole Miss Kitty!” the elf retorted, reaching for the cat on the altar.

“Well I’m finishing it.” Itumak grabbed the elf’s hand, stopping him from touching the altar. “Sara, go to the gardens. The eggplant needs weeding. Jaime, you know a sacrifice to Zasar may not be withdrawn.”

“But I didn’t give Miss Kitty to Zasar!”

“No, you did not, but someone did. She’s gone, and she can’t come back,” Itumak explained gently. “Go make sure the beds are neat. I’m not going to tell Naia you were fighting, but what you did was just as wrong as what Sara did. No matter how angry you get, fists are not the way to solve your problems.”

The neko shooed the elf out of the room, letting out a rough sigh as he pulled on a pair of gloves. He wiped everything on the altar into a bag, tying it off securely before wiping the area down with disinfectant.

With the altar cleaned, Itumak carried the bag out to the dumpster, tossing it and his gloves into the large container before closing the heavy lid. He knew well the pain of losing a stuffed friend, and the risks one would take to get them back.

Returning to the orphanage, the neko took a few minutes on his phone before making his way to Naia’s office. He knocked quietly, waiting for her to answer.

“Come in.”

The older neko was working on a tablet when he entered, but she set it aside.

“How can I help you, Itumak?”

“I’m not going to be able to finish my hours today,” Itumak said. “I’ll make up whatever hours I miss tomorrow, but I have something I need to take care of.”

“I will hold you to that, young neko,” Naia said sternly.

Itumak nodded before hurrying from the room. Leaving the orphanage behind him, the neko glanced at his phone again before starting to jog. Technically he was breaking a direct order from the prince, but Itumak figured Aaron wouldn’t mind. It was for a good purpose.

It didn’t take him long to reach the store, and Itumak spent a while searching the shelves, letting out a quiet grunt when he couldn’t find what he was looking for. Another store followed, and another, the palace guard growing more and more frustrated.

Two hours later, he finally found what he was looking for. Pulling a stuffed black cat off the shelf, the neko grabbed a string, tying a small card around the cat’s paw before carrying it to the counter. He set a silver coin on the counter, the elf on the other side frowning as she collected the money.

“Do you mind if I borrow a pen?” Itumak asked.

“Yes I mind. The pen is for store purposes only,” the elf scowled.

“Got it,” Itumak frowned, collecting the copper coins the elf slapped onto the counter.

He hurried from the store, racing back toward the orphanage. Weaving through the streets, the neko skidded to a stop by the orphanage fence, slipping through the gap he and Ren had used two nights before.

Itumak ducked around the garden, sneaking around the front of the building before hurrying into Naia’s office.

“May I use a pen please Naia?”

The other neko let out a startled gasp, looking up at Itumak.

“Gods above and below! Don’t sneak up on me like that!” she scolded.

“I’m sorry, but I really need to borrow a pen,” Itumak insisted.

“Go ahead. Is that what you skipped today’s service for?”

Itumak nodded, carefully writing in the small card on the cat’s paw.

“One of the kids gave Jaime’s plushie to Zasar. He’s about to be visited by her sister,” the neko said, finishing the note. “I’ll be right back to help with anything else you need me to do.”

He slipped out of the office, following the halls he remembered like the back of his own hand. Stepping into the bedroom, Itumak found the bed Jaime had claimed when he arrived nearly seven months ago. The neko tucked the stuffed animal into the bed, hurrying out of the room before anyone could catch him.

“Itumak.”

The guard turned his head as he left the bedroom. Naia handed him a slip of paper.

“Give this to Captain Darren when you get back to the palace.”

“I will,” Itumak said, glancing at the paper curiously.

The older neko’s signature ran across the bottom of the paper, four hours of service signed off.

“But… I only did two hours,” the neko frowned at Naia.

“I saw you work the full four hours,” Naia shrugged. “Are you going to argue?”

“No. Thank you,” Itumak smiled, embracing the other neko.

AMBER

Ten seconds. It was getting easier every time. Yet Amber still hated it, the fear that overtook her as she slid in the machine no matter how often she had to do it.

The hum of the machine died out, and Amber sucked in a deep breath as she was pulled out once more. She blew it out gratefully, sitting up slowly. Legs dangled from the table, the queen closing her eyes as a wave of lightheadedness struck suddenly. Okay, a little too fast sitting up. But she dealt with the spinning in her head, letting out a sigh as it passed.

“I have good news,” the doctor spoke up. “The tumour is a centimeter smaller. It’s shrinking.”

Amber’s eyes snapped open. She stared at the doctor in amazement, scarcely daring to believe his words.

“Shrinking?” she repeated.

“Shrinking. If it keeps this up, we should be able to remove it soon. It’s a little early for congratulations, but things are definitely looking hopeful right now.”

Another deep breath, and her chest let out a twinge of pain. But it didn’t matter. She was getting better. Amber was beating this.

“We might look into a sleeve lobectomy, to save what we can of the lung. As far as I can tell, it has not spread to any lymph nodes-”

“As far as you can tell. Is there any way to be certain?” Amber demanded.

The doctor nodded.

“We can do more imaging tests. When you go into surgery, if there is a node near the tumour, it will be taken as a precaution. It shouldn’t cause too many issues, if any.”

“But is there any way to know for sure right now? Without slicing me open, preferably?”

“The best way is the scans we’ve been doing. Without actually performing a biopsy of the lymph node, there is a degree of uncertainty involved. But I can assure you that the cancer does not appear to have spread. I would like you to come in again in a week to run another series of tests. If the tumour shrinks more in that time, we’ll have you scheduled for surgery as soon as possible.”

“Thank you…”

Amber let out a relieved breath, standing up slowly. She crossed the room as the chill of Jennifer’s illusion passed over her body. Pausing, the queen looked back at the doctor.

“I know we’ve spoken of this already, but is a healer an option instead of surgery?” she asked quietly.

“Unfortunately no. Healers can help to alleviate some of the concerns that might arise during and after surgery, but their energies run the risk of feeding the tumour instead of destroying it. The kind of magic that would aid in the removal of a cancer cell… well, a mage who could do that has not been discovered.”

Amber nodded with a small sigh.

“I’ll have an appointment set up for next week.”

She stepped out of the room, Jennifer following her silently as the mage focused on her illusions. Amber took the role of guide, helping her to the front of the hospital. Minutes later, the queen had set up another appointment, and the two were heading out of the hospital, to a waiting car.

When they made it back to the palace, Amber headed to her room, sealing herself away as she changed into clothing befitting a queen. She was grateful there were no meetings to go to, no dignitaries to entertain. It was a rare day of peace in the palace, and Amber decided to use it productively.

The queen made her way to the library, smiling at Alisa as she entered the room. Beside her, the half-elf stood with an answering smile. Amber couldn’t remember a day that Quarian hadn’t been in the palace, helping with one thing or another, and it made her pause in thought.

“Alisa, how long have you worked here?” she asked curiously.

“Thirty years, your Majesty,” the human said with a small bow.

“You and Quarian are together, right? I don’t think I’ve ever seen either of you take a day off in all that time.”

“Oh, we’ve taken plenty of vacations, your Majesty. But to be honest, working with books is a vacation to me.”

“Have you given any thought to a replacement?” Amber asked.

“We have, your Majesty. Actually, I was hoping Jason Farin might take my place some day. He knows this library almost better than I do by now,” Alisa chuckled.

“He’s been coming here nearly every day for ten years,” Quarian agreed.

As though summoned by their words, the door opened, and the marble neko entered the library. He smiled at the queen, bowing low before carrying a bag full of writing supplies to a table. Amber made her way over to the table, smiling at the neko.

“I was just having a discussion with Alisa and Quarian,” she said. “They seem to think you would make a good librarian here. I want to know, how do you feel about taking some time off of writing to take a class in library science?”

The neko’s eyes lit up, and he nodded vigorously, reaching for his phone.

“I already took a course in archival management in Quarian Academy, but I can refresh it if I need to,” the phone said flatly.

“Really? Has this been a career goal all along?” Amber asked in surprise.

“Just an option I was considering at the time, but I didn’t think I’d get a job in the royal library,” Jason beamed.

“Well I’m glad I could make you happy,” Amber chuckled. “Go ahead and finish your current project. Then I want you to work with Alisa until she thinks you’re ready to take over.”

“Yes, your Majesty.”

Jason bowed again, a wide smile on his face as he pulled out his computer and notebooks.