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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Amber Waves - 27. Chapter 27

AARON

Lord Sarin was stalling. And it pissed Aaron off to no end. His mother was dying — a month into treatment had done little to improve her condition. And the head of the council was dragging his feet setting up the transfer of power.
Aaron ran through the Queenswood with Itumak on his heels. It was the only way he could clear his mind. The only way he could escape.
Thinking about his runs like that only depressed the prince even more. But it was true. There was a miasma growing over the palace despite Amber’s best efforts, and sometimes Aaron just needed to get out, clear his head.
Every day they waited only added to Amber’s pain. She was still the queen of Astara, and she still executed her responsibilities, despite the fatigue Aaron could see eating away at her. He watched helplessly as a vibrant woman slowly faded. Aaron could stop this; he could give his mother the rest she needed.
But Lord Sarin was drawing out the coronation.
Itumak barked, drawing Aaron up short. The prince turned back to the white wolf, and Itumak scratched at his ear, where an earpiece kept him in touch with the palace. It was complicated trying to get the device to work on a wolf — Aaron had to clip the earpiece on after Itumak shifted. But it gave the elf peace of mind, knowing he could run freely and Itumak could tell him if they needed to go back to the palace.
And they did. Quarian was here.
Aaron wasn’t sure how to feel about the half-elf. Quarian had gone from this friendly face he could chat with while working on projects to a mysterious entity who felt bigger than him. The half-elf had seen everything. How could Aaron possibly compare with his 22 years?
They returned to the barracks. Aaron shifted and removed the earpiece from Itumak. The two dressed in silence, not frosty, but cooler than before. Aaron’s entire world had been upturned. And he still hadn’t recovered.
“I’m off the clock,” Itumak said quietly, pulling a t-shirt on. “If you need a wolf, Ren is on duty.”
Aaron nodded.
“Aaron, this hasn’t been easy on either of us. But everything I did, I did for you. You are the most important person in this world to me, more so than any mate I might find even.”
“I don’t know you,” Aaron said. “My Itumak would never pull a gun on someone.”
“I am a palace guard,” Itumak replied evenly. “I swore an oath to lay down my life if necessary to protect you and Queen Amber. And I still have nightmares about that trip. I don’t know if those will ever stop. My therapist said they will, but they haven’t.” He rested a heavy hand on Aaron’s shoulder. Aaron made no move to brush it off. “Your Itumak is still here. He has always been here for you. That hasn’t changed. All that has changed is what we know. I would kill for you. I would destroy everything I know about myself for you.”
“I never wanted you to.”
“I know. But what we want and what happens are two different beasts. I took no pleasure in what I did. I was scared shitless through it all. And I never want to repeat it. But I will, if it is necessary.” Itumak sat down, pulling his shoes on. “Now get dressed, before I try to lick that princely ass.”
The corner of Aaron’s mouth twitched. Progress. He still couldn’t smile, still couldn’t laugh. But he was getting better.
Aaron dressed slowly, dreading what was coming. He’d asked for Quarian. But he didn’t want to face him.
Still, Aaron trudged to the palace, and made his way through the halls. Everything was so quiet; gone was the air of normalcy, replaced by a silent mourning for someone who hadn’t died yet.
He pushed into the library. Quarian stood up, bowing as the prince approached.
“Your Highness.”
Aaron’s eyes flicked toward Jason, busy copying a decaying text from gods knew when. He returned to Quarian, not sure how to proceed.
“You know.”
It wasn’t a question.
“Five floors up, the noise doesn’t reach down here,” Quarian added, motioning toward the stairs with his head.
Aaron nodded, and followed the half-elf. Around and around they went, until Aaron’s legs were burning from the exertion. Finally, the two sat at a table, the only sound the hum of archaic lights. No one could hear them here.
“Well. I’m not in chains, so can I assume you are at least okay with me being free?”
“Yes,” Aaron said finally. “I…” He sighed, staring at the man before him. “I don’t know what to say. What to do about you. I see you as a risk, Quarian.”
“I understand, your Highness. Please know I have nothing but good intentions. The security and advancement of Astara has always been my goal. To that end, if you must arrest me to ease your worries, I willingly place myself in your custody.”
“No.” Aaron chewed on his lip. He shook his head. “I do not intend to arrest you. I could not live with myself if I let a man who has done no wrong rot in a cell for my own comfort.” The elf leaned forward, pressing his hands against the table. “Mother says you are a researcher.”
“My notes are yours, your Highness. As well as detailed explanations where necessary. It has taken two lives, and centuries of experimentation, to get to where I am today. I do not believe anyone could follow my musings well enough to be informed if they merely read my notes.”
“And where are you?” Aaron asked.
Quarian sighed, leaning back in his chair.
“That is a difficult question, your Highness. I am here, obviously. I am a half-elf mage. We die young, younger even than human mages. My brother, may Zasar preserve his soul, was the first healer in Astaran history; even through the Mage Wars, there was no such thing as healing magic. Magic is traced matrilineally. Yet my mother had little to no magic herself. It means my brother was an anomaly. I am an anomaly. The only thing that binds us is my father, Ryan Karis.”
“Danuva the Healer. A direct ancestor of Aerin the Healer,” Aaron noted.
Quarian nodded. “He had a son and a daughter. His son, Aerin the First, was king of Mydara after…” The half-elf paused, taking a deep breath. “After Paelias Serande’s death,” he finished, glancing at the table.
“Your king,” Aaron remembered.
“I remember two lives. Each of them hold memories both sweet and painful. Elias was my first love. Yet we never consummated that love. He was taken from me when he was only thirteen.”
“I’m sorry,” Aaron said quietly.
“There was no mate bond,” Quarian added after a moment. “Werewolves did not exist. But it was agonising all the same, to watch the person you love cut down like so much chaff in a field. Paelias was my first willing partner in this life.”
“Willing?” Aaron demanded.
“I raped a man during my first shift as a werewolf. I had no idea my lust would be as strong as it was,” Quarian said bitterly. “He is the father of modern werewolves; I have only ever changed two people. Beyond Riardin, I have always distanced myself during my shifts, and remained sexually distant from any mate save one. Through her, I have a son, who has not inherited my temporal magic, but is, as far as I know, the last surviving spatial mage on Astara. He seems to share my longevity, though thirty-five years makes it a little early to know for sure..”
“You mated with an elven prince,” Aaron pointed out. “Why? Was it desire for power?”
“Far from it, your Highness. Paelias was my first major attempt to change the timeline for the better. The only other differences to that point were my infection with lycanthropy, and my renege of my oath of fealty to Thurston Endurlan. That I did to spare Elias’ life. We never had our childhood, I never saved him from drowning in the Astar River, and he never fell to an Astaran bolt. And he still went missing. To this day, I have no idea what happened to him. But I pray he found a happy life.
“In my original time, Prince Aerin was the son of Paelias Serande and Masia Endurlan. He was a ruthless half-elf, always striving toward one goal. The subjugation of Astara. To that end, he abused the Ceosan people. Eventually, they rebelled. But more than that, Prince Aerin made it illegal to love unless it was to feed his war machine. It was a law that was passed down right up to my death.”
Quarian studied Aaron. The elf nodded slowly.
“I can understand why you would want to change that,” Aaron said. “You mated with King Paelias to give yourself access to Prince Aerin.”
Quarian nodded.
“Under my guidance, and with the example of two fathers, he grew into a fine young human. I taught him diplomacy, where before he only knew ambition. I made sure he had a strong sense of ethics. Because of him, Mydara and Ceos entered a peaceful alliance, a mutual defence against Astara. Eventually, Astara caved, and joined what is now known as the Astaran Kingdom.”
The half elf stopped, and leaned forward.
“Your Highness, I changed the timeline. Did I make it better? Did I make it worse? I cannot say. I’d like to believe it is better. We do not have the war mongering that was constant before. That means the value of mages has diminished greatly, leading them to be ostracised by nearly every ruler to date. I spoke with my father once, and he told me every action has a chain. Because I was infected, werewolves exist. Because I mated with Paelias Serande, the Astaran Kingdom stands tall, where before it was a shattered mess of houses with tenuous claims of royalty stabbing each other in the back.” Quarian’s fingers dug into the table as he looked Aaron in the eye. “Because I warned a king about his death, a doctor was implicated for regicide. Mages died. Werewolves died. A wolf hunt ensued.”
“King Finley?” Aaron breathed.
Quarian nodded.
“You went back in time then,” Aaron pointed out. “How far back-”
“Hours in a single jump. I have yet to reach a limit on chaining the jumps. It is not something I like to do — I never know what is being changed, where or when it’s changed. I let King Finley die because it was inevitable. Passing away in his sleep saved lives. Lives that were ended because of my actions.”
“And my mother?” Aaron asked tightly.
“I cannot say, your Highness. This is my first time seeing this path. But I did warn King Finley to take her to the doctors when she first became ill. Astara needs a monarch. And after the turmoil of the past few successions, we need one who came to power naturally.”
Aaron sighed quietly and leaned back. He thought for a moment. Quarian was an open book; he was not attempting to hide anything, good or bad.
“I cannot make use of any of your research,” the prince said finally. “Am I correct in assuming you already have contacts who can?”
“Yes, your Highness. I have researchers who specialise in mage and wolf related matters. They have made good use of the information I have given them. I believe Queen Amber has told you my predictions are no longer valid?”
Aaron nodded.
“The most I can do is what I’ve been doing. Giving everything I can to the scientists, and hoping something might come of it.”
“You do Astara a great service,” Aaron said, rising from his seat. “I thank you for your time. And… try not to step in front of any buses.”
“I do my best, your Highness,” Quarian smiled wryly.

AMBER

“I must insist you hurry, Lord Sarin.”
Amber stared the man down with fire in her eyes. Lord Sarin had the grace to hold her gaze, to not hide from her rage.
“Prince Aaron informed you a month ago that I was ill. You have had that entire month to set up his coronation, yet you appear to have shirked that duty. Your actions would indicate intent to keep the Crown Prince from accepting his responsibilities as the next ruler of Astara. That is treason, Lord Sarin.”
“Your Majesty, these things take time. I understand your coronation was rushed due to necessity, but-”
“I AM DYING!” Amber slammed her hand on the desk, and Lord Sarin jumped. “I. Am. Dying. Lord Sarin, this is necessity. Maybe you are trying to ensure Prince Aaron’s coronation is perfect. I’m trying to ensure I live through it. I will not have any more excuses. Either you make this coronation happen, or I will see you off this council and arraigned for treason against the Crown.”
“Yes, your Majesty.”
Lord Sarin bowed low. Amber let him hold the position for a moment longer than necessary before waving him away. It was petty. But fuck it, she’d earned petty. Her entire rule had been spent trying to manipulate that man into doing what was right for Astara. She was sick of it.
And now he would be a plague on Aaron’s rule.
She had tried to change that. It was an unspoken rule that no reign should last beyond 25 years, to keep elven rulers from outliving their heirs or sitting on the throne for centuries. It made sense to impose similar limits on the Royal Council. But surprisingly, the council was not a fan of imposing a limit on their rule. Amber could have overruled them; she had the power. But at a vote of 2 to 11 against, overriding the council would have been seen as tyranny, even if popular opinion was in favour of the law.
Amber sighed and rubbed her temple. It was hard to tell if the headache she was developing was a result of stubborn lords or something worse. She needed a break. She needed to rest.
“Your Majesty.” Amber looked up from her desk. Captain Darren bowed low. “Lord Zulzaga has arrived with his son.”
“Tell me, Captain. When were you demoted to a page?”
Captain Darren held himself perfectly still — her barb had landed. Amber bit back another sigh. That was uncalled for.
“My apologies, your Majesty. I was concerned for your health, and took it upon myself to deliver this message.”
“No, you have my apologies, Captain. You have always held my best interests close. It was cruel of me to berate you for your concern.”
“No apologies are necessary, my queen.” Captain Darren paused, picking over his next words. “If I may be so bold, perhaps you should allow Prince Aaron this chance to negotiate with the Ythin.”
“Dear gods, am I so frail?” Amber laughed mirthlessly. “Captain, I appreciate your concern. But we are both the same. Neither one of us can stand the thought of not having something to do.”
“Your Majesty, you are unwell,” Captain Darren stressed. “I understand the need to do something, but surely there are matters you could attend to that are less mentally draining. You are always exhausted after these meetings, especially with the Ythin.”
“Captain Darren, the day I am unable to perform my duties is the day I will step down, coronation or not. Until then, I will give everything I have to my people,” Amber said sternly.
“If you pace yourself, your Majesty, if you let yourself rest, you will have more to give.”
“This discussion is over, Captain Darren,” Amber growled.
Captain Darren bowed.
“Yes, your Majesty.”
He left the room, and Amber rubbed her head again. Why did everything have to be so complicated? If he wanted a say in her life, she’d made it abundantly clear she was willing to be with him.
Was she really going to punish him for not wanting to be her consort?
“Fuck…” Who the fuck was she anymore? Snapping at lords, pounding the table like an animal, yelling at the one person who made her feel more human than machine grinding away at the world one problem at a time.
Her migraine was in full swing now. Amber lifted herself from her seat. Trudging to the door, she found one of the new neko guards Aaron had worked to hire standing watch over her office. At one point, she would have known the name of every guard in her employ. Now, she found it hard to summon the will to care.
Captain Darren was right. She was exhausted, and it was hurting everyone around her. Amber needed a break.
“Please have word sent to Prince Aaron that I need to speak with him.”
“Right away, your Majesty,” the neko said quickly.
Amber returned to her desk. Searching through her drawers, she found a bottle of pain relievers. That should hold her over through her conversation with Aaron. If she was lucky, she might even feel up to eating after. Small hopes. But right now, that’s all she had.

ITUMAK

He could feel the neko studying him. Itumak kept staring at his feet. Why did he like sex? What kind of question was that?
“It feels good,” he shrugged. “I enjoy it.”
“What specifically do you find the most enjoyable?”
Itumak snorted.
“What, do you want positions? Kinks?”
“Whatever you wish to share.”
He shrugged again, helpless. What was he supposed to say? It was sex. It was fun. It really wasn’t that complicated.
“I guess it’s the cuddling after,” he finally decided. “Especially if it’s a werewolf, because I can actually top them without risk.”
“The cuddling.”
“You’re going to tell me I fuck people because I’m lonely now, right?”
“That is certainly the strongest possibility,” the neko said. She leaned back, crossing her legs. “If you have another explanation, I would love to hear it.”
His shoulders were really getting a workout today. The silence grew in the room. Itumak really didn’t want to be the one to break it. How could he? It felt like everything he said was being twisted against him.
“You are Prince Aaron’s friend, correct?”
“Well, friendly with him. This whole shitshow has pretty much ruined our closeness.”
“Mm. Because he saw a side of you he didn’t care for.”
“It’s not like I wanted to do it!” Itumak snapped. “I had no choice!”
“No, Itumak. You always have a choice. Even in a life or death situation, you can choose to die.” The neko stared him down. “It is not a choice I would take. Nor is it a choice I feel you would take. But it is a choice all the same. What are some other options you had at the time?”
“Captain Darren told me I had to get Aaron to the palace as fast as possible,” Itumak ground out. “If I called for a car from the castle, it would have taken too long.”
“A choice you discarded,” the neko pointed out. “What is another option?”
“I could have called for a different car. But that still would have taken too long.”
“Another choice discarded.”
“I don’t know what else I could have done. I still don’t know how to drive; it’s not like I could have taken Aaron to the fort myself.”
“Say that again, Itumak.”
Itumak sighed, slumping in his seat.
“I don’t know what else I could have done.”
“You don’t know what other options you had. And that is with the luxury of time to think. In the heat of the moment, when every second counted, how could you come up with another option?” The neko fell silent. Neither of them spoke for a long moment. “This was a traumatic experience for you. It is not something you enjoyed; it was a necessity. You had to get the prince to safety. You did not know how much time you had. Given all this information, can you still say your choice was wrong?”
“Why can’t he see that? Why can’t he see that everything I did, I did for him?”
“Have you considered that this was just as traumatising for Prince Aaron? He saw his best friend pull a gun on someone. He came this close to seeing someone die.”
“I didn’t want to! He knows that!”
“Knowing and accepting are two very different things, Itumak. He knows you acted out of necessity. But he still has to grapple with his feelings. It could be that this is the end of your friendship. Even if it isn’t, Prince Aaron will need time to process this. He is a troubled young elf. He has the weight of the kingdom on his shoulders. That in itself is hard to handle. On top of that, he has to deal with the fact that his best friend is willing to kill someone if necessary. For him.”
“He is afraid of me,” Itumak said. “I see it in his eyes whenever he looks at me.”
“Is he afraid of you? Or is he afraid of what you represent? You have exposed him to the harsh reality. He is the Crown Prince of Astara. Some day, he will be king. His actions will dictate whether people live or die. You gave him a taste of that. It’s only natural to fear that level of control over people’s fates.”
The neko looked at Itumak long and hard.
“It might not be you he is afraid of. Prince Aaron might fear himself.”

Copyright © 2022 Yeoldebard; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Captain Darren needs to take Lord Sarin for a long walk on the short path to the cliffs...I think Queen Amber needs to inform Lord Sarin that she will now set the date, and that he is invited if he would like to attend...the huge mistake is leaving anything up to him...the fricking weasel...

Both Aaron and Itumak have now been exposed to the very harsh realities of the life they are now to lead; childhood is a distant view in the mirror of life...

I get the feeling Quarian may become an important part of the next few months, not sure what to think of Jason...

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A very insightful ending for this chapter.  Lord Sarin needs to get it together for the coronation!! Then Amber may be able to rest and possibly live longer.

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