The big guy with the broad shoulders and pale silver hair squeezed his hands until they turned white. He was holding a wet cloth, with water dripping into a basin underneath it.
You can see how the weather is outside from the window. The snow is coming down hard, and it's colder than usual. Even inside the manor, with its thick walls and a fireplace roaring every hour, the cold still creeps in through cracks you don't even know about. You can hear the window creaking in the strong wind.
There was a young lady with similar hair color and a pale face sleeping on the bed. Mordessa Valla was in a bit of a tough spot.
Her breathing was no longer the soft sound of most humans breathing. All that could be heard was the sound of her lungs making a clinking noise as glasses rubbed against each other. The disease she had was called "crystallization," and as she got older, her illness became progressively worse.
Soren put the wet cloth on his little sister's forehead. The air was icy cold, but Mordessa was running a high fever. He sat next to her, staring at her pale face. Mordessa's health had been getting worse since the fall, and it was only going to worsen in the winter. This was the longest winter Arboris had ever had, and winters had never lasted this long before.
Every time Mordessa breathed, it was a struggle because her body couldn't handle it. She was turning 21, but it looked like all the medicine Mordessa had tried wasn't helping. She was spending most of her time at home, lying in bed, instead of enjoying life and socializing.
"Soren…" Mordessa called him, struggling to catch her breath. Soren hadn't heard her sister's cheery voice in a long time.
He moved up to her without saying a word and grabbed the towel that was half-dry. He wiped Mordessa's sweat-drenched body. "Mordessa, I'm still here. Mom and Dad aren't back yet, and Miliana is preparing dinner for you."
Mordessa took a breath, letting it out slowly after taking a moment to fill her lungs with air. Soren wiped Mordessa's neck and chest, which were now starting to harden due to her illness.
Soren felt a lump in his throat, seeing how fragile his sister was. He wanted to bring Mordessa back to life and make her cheerful again. He pulled the blanket up to Mordessa's chest and softly stroked her hair. "You'll get better, Mordessa. I'm sure of it."
The door opened from the outside, letting in the dim light from the hallway light. Soren turned and saw his parents enter Mordessa's bedroom. They'd just returned from the city, where they'd gone to the king's funeral. Dreadmoor wasn't too far from town, they traveled about five hours.
"Hey, sweetie. " Hilda smiled warmly, though she looked tired. The cloak she'd worn on the long journey still had the scent of wet, slightly dirty ground. A maid came inside and helped them take off their cloaks, gloves, and hats.
Even though they were clearly exhausted, their parents rushed to see Mordessa when they heard that her condition had worsened. Hilda kissed Soren's forehead before he slowly got up and moved to the side of the bed, making room for his parents to hold their little sister. They padded over to Mordessa's bed, looking at her, touching her, and kissing her carefully.
"We're back, my love," Dragan whispered in Mordessa's ear, his voice warm and gentle.
They were sitting pretty close to Mordessa's bed. After having trouble falling asleep, Mordessa finally managed to fall asleep. The servants had prepared hot tea on the small table.
"How was the funeral?" Soren started talking, his eyes on Mordessa the whole time. He watched his sister's chest move up and down slowly.
Dragan let out a sigh and said, "We weren't there when the ceremony started. We just wanted to offer our condolences and a quick way to bid farewell. It's just that the palace feels so cold and eerie after the king's death. What is it? Uh, it just feels so empty..." His hand didn't let go of Mordessa's.
"What about the boy?" Soren asked, looking a bit puzzled.
"The Crown Prince?"
"His Majesty now," Hilda corrected her husband, who still called Lucian ' crown prince.' "He looks lost. I saw him sitting on the throne, but he didn't seem to be paying attention to what was happening around him. His mom passed away when he was 11, and now, 10 years later, his dad has passed away, and he's the only heir to the throne. I think it's been rough on him."
"He was always in church as a kid, wasn't he?" Soren asked again, annoyed that someone was leading his country so "weak" and "lost." "A religious king who's not strong like a soldier or even skilled like a politician. He'll only end up killing himself on that throne."
"Soren.." Dragan gave his eldest son a hard stare. "You shouldn't be so quick to judge someone just because he spends his time in church instead of working on himself to be a crown prince. Crown Prince, I mean...King Lucian, as he's known, can't really turn down or argue for the throne, because he's the only one who can claim it in the kingdom."
"Besides, I think something happened to the Mother Tree."
"The Mother Tree?"
"Yeah, the tree that's been Arboris's guardian for ages looks pretty fragile. The leaves in that big canopy look flimsy," Dragan said again.
Hilda smiled slightly and took Soren's hand, gently stroking it. His hand was so big compared to hers. Without saying a thing, she pulled Soren in close, which made Dragan stand up and come over to Mordessa's bed, where she was still having a hard time breathing. The family was there for each other, and they didn't say much. The Delve family was really close-knit, and they loved and supported each other.
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A week had passed, the sky was still gray, but the snow had stopped completely. The cold was still biting outside, and Soren was still with his knights, training with his chest exposed. He spent his days as Commander of the Basalt-Keep, training and preparing the other knights for any situation. Although his mind was all about Mordessa.
Mordessa's condition had worsened last week, worse than it had been in years. He tried to spend the day trying not to think about her too much, but he couldn't even sleep in his own room. He spent the nights in his sister's room with his mom, Hilda.
"How's Lady Mordessa doing?" Soren turned when he heard a voice.
Captain Valerick. His second-in-command. His sharp eyes and furrowed black eyebrows were fixed on Soren, and his black hair was damp with sweat.
"I still have to find a new medicine for her, though," Soren replied, taking Valerick's half-full water bottle. He drank it all down, then looked over at the knights practicing swordsmanship not far in front of him.
The two were under a tree in the middle of the training grounds.
"Is her symptoms getting worse?"
He didn't respond with words, he just nodded his head to show what Valerick said was right.
One of Mordessa's fingers was now as hard as her chest and neck. Soren felt a pang in his chest when he thought about it. His father was a Marquis, and he was a Knight Commander here, but he felt like he couldn't do anything to save his only sister.
Soren came back to the Manor in the late evening. He changed clothes after he got out of the shower and went to Mordessa's room. He met his mom there, and she asked Soren to help her make a new medicine rather than staying with Mordessa.
"Your dad'll be back soon and take care of her," his mom said, pulling Soren's arm into the kitchen.
Soren often helped his mom prepare medicine for Mordessa. His mom had studied medicine ever since Mordessa became sick at six. The two were in the kitchen when Dragan hurriedly opened the door. Hilda and Soren, busy with their own things, were alarmed to see how pale their father's face was.
Something happens, Soren's thinking.
He got up pretty quickly and went to his father.
"Soren…." Dragan said, his voice cracking. "In the Great Hall. Now."
His mom, seeing the situation, ran behind Dragan, while Soren led the way, tapping the sword at his waist. When the Veridian envoy stepped into the hall, they stood tall with a sense of pride. Inside the manor, seven envoys were already assembled, one of whom Soren recognized.
High Alchemist, Malakor.
They wore official Veridian royal attire. But that color...
Malakor had a scroll with the royal leaf emblem on it, and a guard had a small chest next to him. The Alchemist gave the scroll to the envoy standing next to him.
"Commander Soren Vane Delve," The envoy started talking. His voice was loud and could be heard throughout the Manor. A few servants appeared from behind the walls.
Soren naturally took hold of the sword's hilt and positioned himself in a ready stance. "Northerners aren't big on small talk. State your business here as envoys of the king," he said coldly.
"The Mother Tree has spoken," the envoy said, ignoring Soren's coldness. "The Marrow Pear Ritual was performed during King Lucian's coronation. Its roots have spread beyond the blood of the Canopy. The Mother Tree has decided."
Soren felt a chill at this, his brow knitted. "What do you mean?"
"Commander Soren Vale Delve, has been chosen. You are the only spirit strong enough to act as the Vessel for the Royal Heir. You are the bearer for the next Royal Heirs chosen by The Mother Tree."
Everyone fell silent as they listened to the envoy's words. Soren quickly came to his senses and turned to his dad, who looked completely shocked and speechless, with his mouth half open. Meanwhile, his mom covered her mouth with her hand. Tears welled up in her eyes.
"The King offers the Sap as a gift of mercy for Lady Mordessa." The envoy spoke up, putting an end to the silence.
"Wait a minute," Soren said, trying to process what he had just heard. "You're asking me to be a bearer?" His voice sounded so sarcastic, "You want to take a Commander of the North and turn him into a nursery for a Veridian seed?"
"Please accept my sincere apologies, Commander." Malakor cut in, giving Soren a slightly annoyed look. "This is not intended as a request. As a citizen of the Arboris, you are likely aware that the Mother Tree is said to bestow a name on the successor to the kingdom every ten years. This is similar to the duty when you are at war, in that it is a demanding task. This is an order." Malakor said it in a way that Soren could hear loud and clear, with a lot of firmness and intensity.
He is a knight, and his pride was hurt when he heard that, "I understand that you are aware that I am male."
"Certainly, Commander. You are a 30-year-old single man. You have chosen to abstain from relationships due to the health challenges faced by your younger sister, Lady Mordessa, who, to the best of my knowledge, is currently bedridden and coping with an illness. The Crystallization."
Soren clenched his fists when Malakor started talking.
"This is the sap of what is known as the Mother Tree's sap, which may be of use in addressing the issue of crystallization present in Lady Mordessa's body."
Malakor's statement shocked Soren and her parents. The servants behind the wall seemed taken aback as well. They knew full well that for years the Dalve family had been searching for a cure to free their daughter from the Crystallization disease that was eating away at her.
"I apologize for the misunderstanding, but the sap used for healing Crystallization is extracted from the Marrow-Pear, a fruit that only ripens once every ten years. The King bestowed this gift with the intention that, upon Commander Soren's arrival at the palace, the unfortunate events surrounding Lady Mordessa will no longer weigh heavily on your hearts." After Malakor finished explaining, he asked the guard carrying the small chest to open it. Inside was a small, sealed bottle, filled with a thick, glowing golden tree sap.
Soren looked at the tree sap. He remembered what had happened to Mordessa, like the hardening of the skin on her neck, chest, and fingers since she was a child. He also remembered her constant coughing, the sound of her breathing like glass scraping against each other which gets worse with age. He couldn't forget the new king his parents had mentioned a week ago.
I'm not sure how he managed it, but he used Mordessa's illness somehow to make me agree to the Mother Tree's request, Soren gave it some thought.
He closed his eyes and clenched his fists again. The tree's sap could only be collected once every ten years, after the fruit had ripened from the Mother Tree, and during that span, Mordessa was really struggling with a long illness that took away her childhood. Soren took a deep breath, he'd never heard that the Mother Tree's sap could cure Mordessa's illness, but...
"No, Soren. No. Don't do that..." Hilda was half-pleading, touching her son hand. Tears started to flow. "Soren, we can find another way. Trust me, there's an easier way to do this...Soren..." His mom's voice was shaking.
Soren looked at his mom, who was about to start crying, and then he looked over at Mordessa's room. He knew full well that Dreadmoor had no cure for this disease, and the only cure Mordessa needed came from The Mother Tree.
Soren makes his way to the front of Malakor, "If it's not too much trouble, could you kindly give the tree sap to my father? I will comply with the Mother Tree's wishes, as you mentioned, as this is an order and not a request. I will come as the Heir Bearer. But before I go, I would like to say goodbye to my knights."
The envoys and Malakor left after Soren finished speaking. They made room for Soren to bid farewell to his family and knights and pack for his journey to the palace.
Dragan gave Soren a big hug. It was a desperate hug, and it felt bitter, but he couldn't describe the taste. The Delve family felt insulted by the Mother Tree and the kingdom. A war commander was asked to take a role as an heir bearer for the king.
"We'll get you back home, son, I promise," Dragan said, his voice cracking.
Soren swallowed painfully. He didn't even have time to process it, everything had happened so suddenly, and the kingdom wanted him now. He glanced up again at Mordessa's chambers.
Mordessa, I wish you would go back to how you were before.