Musings

[Azjah von Drachen Walde]

Azjah had met Xeric accidentally just outside of Tea’s N Tomes, and in their brief encounter, they had agreed to meet at Twilight Isle. Xeric wanted to talk, and she hadn’t seen the Russian in some time. So at the agreed upon time, she walked through the portal and onto the warm sand of Twilight Isle. She found him already there, seated upon a stone bench, looking out across the bay.

“Good evening Azjah, I’m glad you came.” He didn’t look at her immediately, but finally he did turn his head as the wind shipped his shoulder length curls. He patted the bench beside him, “Don’t be shy, there is a beautiful view from here.”

Azjah made her way across the sand, the breeze causing her silk skirt to curl around her legs. “The Isle has many beautiful vistas,” she told him as she settled onto the stone bench. Several goblins moved between the sparse palm trees, and Xeric turned cold blue eyes back to watch the waves crash against the beach. “I’ve started coming here to think,” Xeric told her as she got comfortable.

“What do you think about in such a beautiful setting?” Azjah glanced at the waves as well.

His lips twisted into a small grin, “I just sit and contemplate my navel.” He gave a slight chuckle, “I think of could have beens, and what yet might come to pass.” Clearly something was eating at him.

Azjah lifted a pale brow at him, “Is your navel worth contemplation?” She struggled to maintain a straight face, but he would talk about whatever was troubling him when he was ready and not before. She grew more serious, “Regrets Xeric.”

His gaze dropped from the waves to the sand in front of his feet. “Everyone has regrets Azjah, and everyone has possibilities.”

“Very true,” Azjah said, “though usually when one gives such serious contemplation to ‘could have been’s’ there is something preying on their minds.”

Xeric’s eyes slowly climbed until they met Azjah’s. “Enough of my worries, how are you and Wil doing?”

Azjah sent a goblin off for her scotch, “We are well enough for the moment Xeric.”

They talked briefly about the events that happened on Rigel and at length he gave her a smile, “I’m sure things will work themselves out, but if there is anything I can do….” He let it trail off.

Azjah shook her head, “We will have to let events take their course, but I appreciate the offer.”

Xeric turned away and waved one of the goblins over, “I’m a little hungry, would you like anything?”

Azjah laughed, “Nachos! I haven’t had those in years.”

He ordered an extra rare sirloin and Azjah’s nachos, passing the goblin a silver crown and then turning back to watch the sea. With a slight chuckle he told her that he couldn’t eat junk food for another week. “Seems like I’ve kept myself in a challenge these last few months.”

Azjah leaned back against the bench with one hand propping her up as the breeze sends tendrils of hair curling around her throat, “Now, why is that?”

He turned to face her, “They might taste good, but they are absolute garbage to your body. I need to consume large amounts of protein to keep my muscles strong. I don’t want to repeat my last challenge.” His cold blue eyes softened slightly, “I’ll be in the ring with a lion after all.”

She flashed him a smile, “I won’t tell you how wonderful they are then.” She then realized what he was talking about on a challenge, “Ah yes, the liontaur! Rakeesh is formidable.”

Xeric’s eyes turned back toward the waves once more, “It’s so simple, so consistent.”

Azjah followed where he was looking, “Yes, I think that’s why it’s so soothing. Something primal about the ebb and flow of the surf.” She was not prepared for his next words. Someone important to him was with child, and he did not sound very happy about it. She turned to look at him rather than the gentle roll of incoming waves.

They spent the remainder of that evening talking about the impending child. Xeric seemed torn, the blade he carried, Ivan, was given to him by his father, and Xeric intended to pass it on to his son one day. That he did not know if this child was his or another’s was at the root of his current mood.

[Azjah von Drachen Walde]

Azjah was going to offer him the obligatory congratulations, but the pain in his features stopped her. He then showed her the blade Ivan, wrapped from pommel to tip in pink silk. “My grandfather gave this sword to my father, who gave it to me.” His voice lowered, “I consider it a birth right, and now…..”

The goblins brought his steak and Azjah sipped her glass of scotch. Xeric changed the subject, “One of the best steaks I’ve had in a while.”

Finally Xeric lost focus on his meal, “I don’t know what to do. I might be the father, and if I am, the blade is his birth right.”

Azjah gave him a puzzled look, “There are tests to determine paternity.” Why he should be so tortured over this still eluded her. But he told her that the mother wouldn’t allow it. Apparently the woman was married to another. “That complicates things.”

Xeric’s demons rode him hard as they sat there. He abruptly threw the plate way from him, “The idea that I might have a child that I’ll never get to know, the thought that someone else will raise my child…………….”

Azjah couldn’t help flinching at the outburst before very softly asking him when the child was expected.

He was torn and frustrated. The child was due shortly, and he would be left out of its future. The mother did not want her spouse to know or suspect anything other than that this child belonged to him. So Xeric would never know the paternity of this child.

Some time later, he studied the stars above the beach, “It’s such a beautiful night.” Then his words became more controlled and steady, “I did this to myself. I don’t think I should compound it by pitying myself.” He favored Azjah with a slight grin, “That doesn’t excuse what happened. May I ask you, would you sleep with a married man?”

Azjah’s brow rose, “Only if he were my husband.”

Xeric gave a slight chuckle, “Wil doesn’t know how lucky he is.” His gaze dropped to the sand, “Maybe it isn’t mine. I wish that I could hope it isn’t.”

Azjah studied him, “But part of you wants it to be yours?”

“I have wanted many things, but I am a big enough fool to miss my chance for many of them.” He told her.

Azjah shook her head, “That’s an awfully harsh assessment Xeric.”

He turned then to face her, “The truth usually is.” He gave a dismissive wave of his hands, “Enough about my problems, I’m being that fool once more.” He rose from the bench and proceeded to collect some fire wood and build a small fire there on the beach.

Azjah watched the smoke curl into the twilight sky, “There was a lovely couple of nights on Pyxis,” she told him in answer to his question whether she enjoyed the out of doors. “Gabriel and I had fires similar to this.” She gave a wistful smile. “We were perched on a bluff with a huge drop off that seemed to vanish into the night, and a million stars overhead.”

He smiled, “There is something special about watching a fire on a beautiful night.”

Azjah nodded, “Indelible memories.”

He gave her a light poke with his elbow, “good company makes it all the more special.”

She returned the playful elbow, “Yes, I wonder what it is about fire and water and stars that draw us as they do.”

Xeric twisted his bottle in the sand until it stood upright supported by the sand before scratching his chin in consideration of her observation and query, “It’s only natural. Our ancestors spent their entire lives like this.”

Azjah wrapped both arms around her knees and leaned back slightly, “Pyxian sunsets are laced with odd shades of orange and red, not so much shades of pink and lavender as they are here.”

Xeric yawned, “I might have to see this Pyxis one day.”

Azjah gave him an indulgent smile, “It’s a long way from here.”

Xeric’s cold blue eyes warmed slightly, “There are regrets and things to haunt me even here,” his hand swept over the isle. “Life if such a queer thing. People stumble around with no real idea of who they are, or what they want until it’s gone.

[Azjah von Drachen Walde]

Azjah lifted a brow at him, “What do you want out of life Xeric?”

He chuckled softly, “All we really need is food, shelter, and the chance to reproduce. Look what we manage to do to ourselves.”

Azjah gave a smile, “It takes more than the basic needs to be happy Xeric.”

He turned his head slightly to get a good view of Azjah, “I don’t know. A good wife, a few kids,” his voice trailed off before asking, “What is it that you want Azjah?”

She studied him a long moment, “You should go after that then Xeric.” His question surprised her, “I want to be needed. Silly thing, isn’t it?” She never truly felt needed. She knew the sensation of being wanted, coveted, bartered over, but someone needing her was something she had never felt.

Two goblins placed more wood on the fire as it begins to burn down, and he gave a deep chuckle as he listened to her, “Sounds like the most reasonable thing in the world to me.” He turned his attention to the sky, “Doesn’t Wil need you?”

Azjah sipped her scotch, “Interesting question.” But she did not elaborate.

Xeric’s gaze swept over her once again, “I can’t see how he wouldn’t need you. Just look at you, a beautiful woman, a very intelligent woman, and your best quality is your kindness.”

Azjah took a deep breath, “Kindness isn’t a word usually associated with me Xeric, but thank you.” The things Xeric had cited were all the things the people had ‘wanted’ her for. Her looks, her brain and what they could gain from it.

Xeric repeated her words silently and pushed himself to his elbows, “What do you mean?” His brow furrowed, “How can you not know if he needs you?”

Azjah shook her head, “It’s complicated Xeric.”

They talked at length and finally Xeric said, “I’m sure it will work out for the best.” Then he shot her a cold look, “You aren’t planning on anything foolish, are you?”

Azjah gave him a smile, “Define foolish.”

He pushed himself into a sitting position, “I don’t want you to make me throw you over my shoulder and lock you in a room to keep you safe, but I will.”

Azjah lifted a brow at him, “What would you do for a woman you adored Xeric? Would you let her die for lack of getting involved?”

His face was absolutely emotionless, “No, I wouldn’t.” Then he wondered if she’d misunderstood him, “I would expect her to stay alive.”

Azjah stiffened, “That is a double standard Xeric.”

His cold blue gaze locked with hers, “You damn right it is.” In a flash, the Russian was on his feet and mere inches from Azjah, “Remember what you said about not letting someone you adore be hurt by inaction?” He visibly regained control over himself, “Send someone else. I won’t watch you be hurt without trying to stop it.”

Azjah shook her head. They parted company for the night, but Xeric had invited her to his manor house on the next evening for dinner.

[Azjah von Drachen Walde]

Azjah took the Enzo to Xeric’s manor the next night. Eoin was beside her as they pulled into the drive. He would await her here, and she stepped from the car and walked to the front doors. She lifted the door knocker and let it wrap once.

Meanwhile, Xeric had his meal prepared and served in a private dining room before dismissing his staff to await Azjah’s arrival. He heard the knock and made his way toward the door, pulling the gilded portal open.

Azjah smiled, “Good evening Xeric, I trust I am not too late?”

He was an odd sight to her; he had his hair tied back at the nape of his neck. He was dressed in an officer’s uniform with a dozen golden knots decorating his left shoulder. He smiled as he saw her there and offered his arm, “You are right on time.”

Azjah took his arm and stepped over the thresh hold, “Such formality this evening?” She had noted the uniform and was much more used to robes and the braids with the bells rather than this level of formality from him.

He turned toward the great room and the heavy doors closed behind them, “It is not every day that I get to play host to nobility.”

Azjah chuckled as she paused inside the great room, “I am not nobility on RhyDin. There are few who recognize rank in any form here.”

He urged her forward, “Tonight you are not in RhyDin. Tonight you are a guest in my home, and you can be nobility if you wish it.”

Azjah smiled, “I am honored that you elected to entertain me in your home.”

He led her through a smaller door that led into a small, round room with a triangular table at its center. Three ornately carved chairs were set around the table with a large stone fireplace at one side of the room. It had a pickled oak mantle. The walls were decorated with battle flags, and a single painting hung on the walls. It was of a younger Xeric. There was also a young woman with dark hair and green eyes with an infant in her arms. Azjah paused to study the painting, “Is that you?”

Xeric led her to one of the chairs, pulling it out for her, and as she studied the carving, she realized they were twin dragons carved into the wood. He swept his eyes over the old painting, “that was me, a life time ago.”

Azjah smiled, “We all once were young.” Then she motioned toward the woman, “And the woman?”

Xeric continued around the table and seated himself. His chair was carved in the image of twin lions, as the chair passed between the fireplace and Azjah’s view, they were quite clear. Xeric glanced at her, “She was Jade Lumanes…… Mues.” When Azjah asked him if she had been his wife, he took a moment to consider his response. “Yes, Jade was my wife. We had a son, but as I said, that was a life time ago.”

Azjah apologized for prying.

He gave her a small smile before motioning to the banners on the wall around them, “Prussians, Austrians, French, British, Turkish, and more in other parts of the manor. Few have ever defeated me on the battle field once and none twice.” But his eyes slid back to the painting, “Forgive me for shying away from your questions, but some wounds never heal.”

“Which Tsar did you serve?” If he did not wish to discuss it, she would not press the issue. After all, she had her own demons.

“Tsar Peter, the Great.” He told her with an amused smile.

“The records paint him as a very forward thinking leader.” She had done some research on that culture in the University. Peter the Great had vowed to drag his country, ‘kicking and screaming’ into the new century. He established the sea port that bears his name, St. Petersburg.

Xeric examined the portrait for long minutes, “Jade was my wife, and the mother of my son, Alexander.” His gaze dropped to the plate before him, “I spent much of the time we were married on campaign. During the Turkish War, several of their battalions managed to slip past our defenses unnoticed, and they attacked….” He cleared his throat, and Azjah finished very softly, “You were away when they were lost?”

His cold blue eyes found hers, “As I said, it was a life time ago.”

“I am sorry Xeric.” Then she changed the subject, as much for herself as for Xeric, “What do you think of Peter’s city?”

He took several mouths full before he answered, “It’s been so long since I’ve seen it, I probably wouldn’t recognize it.” He glanced then at Azjah’s empty plate, “Not hungry?”

Azjah gave him a smile, “I was lost in questions, it looks delicious.” In point of fact, she was unused to serving herself and had inadvertently waited for staff.

[Azjah von Drachen Walde]

Xeric wiped his mouth with his napkin and leaned back into his chair, “Tell me of your home.” Then he must have realized why Azjah had waited, “I’m sorry Marchioness, I dismissed my staff for the evening, but I could serve you.”

She chuckled, “Rigel is a star traveling world, we’ve gone rather far flung into the universe, and with our travels have colonized many diverse worlds. I suppose the closest analogy might be the former Roman Empire.” Azjah chuckled at his offer, “No, I can manage.” Then she added, “We’ve grown and colonized over the centuries. We are not beloved, but we are respected I suppose. We specialize in several forms of technology.”

Xeric rose and picked up her wine glass, pouring some into it before placing it back onto the table with a mocking smile, “M’lady”.

She took the glass with a smile as he filled his own again. Then he lifted it toward her, “To a wonderful evening.”

Xeric quirked a brow, “What forms of technology?”

“Rigel’s specialties include biotechnology, weapons and propulsion systems.”

He raised his glass again, “To weapons, the very yard stick of civilization.”

Azjah sipped the win, “they have been good to my family, most of the time.”

The corners of his lips twisted into a slight grin that never reached his eyes, “It’s odd, the people that have spent more time and resources learning how to end life, are the ones considered the most civilized.”

“History is written by the conquerors Xeric. Of course we see ourselves as civilized.”

He leaned closer, “Tell me Azjah, have you ever seen real combat? Have you ever had to clean what is left of one of your friends off of your boots?”

Azjah set her glass down and held that cold gaze, “I’ve seen the innocent die, and the destruction of once glorious places and cultures. Do you know what a Marquess is Xeric? Many do not.”

He leaned back into his chair, “I’m a simple soldier Azjah, I do not know what that is.”

“In feudal ways, the wild border lands with hostile indigenous populations are always held by what are called Marcher Lords. Depending on the territory being held for the Liege Lord, a Marcher Lord can actually rank higher than even a Duke. My family have been Marcher Lords for several centuries. Yes Xeric, I have seen battle. We are the first line of defense, and the first line of offense. The biggest difference though is that most of our battles are fought in the heavens and not on the ground.” Azjah knew that colonization often brought the deaths of the conquered, and her father had been accountable to an expansionist Kaiser.

Xeric gave a slight chuckle, “I’ve seen battle and I’ve been in the heart of it. I’ve heard it said that compared to war, all other forms of human endeavor shrink to insignificance.”

Azjah’s mind flashed to the Cephean attack on St. Albans. “The Cepheans are threatening Lacerta, I’ve been working there. Perhaps that is true. Humanity aggrandizes accomplishment.”

Xeric gave a deep sigh, “I’ve come to believe that the greatest act a warrior can do is to find peace, to abandon war.”

Azjah did not agree with him, but she lifted a brow, “You grow weary of war?”

He appeared to be seeing something well beyond their surroundings, “Most of my life I have been a soldier, I thought that was the life I wanted.” He focused on her then, “It took a wasted life for me to realize that what I wanted was a simple life. A family, a quiet home, and a peaceful life.”

Azjah canted her head, “There are a lot of people who want that Xeric.” But she also knew that without the warriors, most people would never enjoy that pastoral wish.

His eyes swept around the room, “Perhaps that is what holds me in this city. Here I’ve come closer to what I really want than I ever have anywhere else.” He gave a slight grin, “And it was to be desired, to be needed that you truly want, correct?”

“You should go after your dream Xeric. Life is too short to ignore them.” She picked up the glass again before confirming his query.

He gave her a cruel grin, “That is the trick, isn’t it? See, with a blade in your hands, life and death is simple. But, wooing a good woman…. Perhaps I want what I can’t have.”

She canted her head slightly, “There are plenty of good women to woo Xeric. Why couldn’t you have that?”

He took a deep breath and forced himself to meet her steady regard, “Maybe it isn’t a good woman that I want. Maybe I don’t want to choose between all of the possible choices. Maybe I want a woman I can’t have.” He gave a slight chuckle. “That seems to be the theme of my life. I figure it out just a little too late.” He drained the glass and quickly refilled it. “I don’t want to risk the friendship I have with that woman, so I keep silent.”

“We shall have to work on your reflexes Xeric.” She lifted the glass to him slightly, “As a former warrior, you can appreciate the practice it takes to keep your reflexes sharp.”

He nodded, “I wish her well and occupy myself with other distractions.” He chuckled then, “Reflexes you say? I once heart that the better part of valor is discretion.” He tilted his head slightly, “But, I have also heard that fortune favors the bold.”

Azjah smiled, “We must find you a worthy distraction then. And, I do not see those as mutually exclusive, do you?”

Xeric studied her a moment, “Compared to this woman, there is no worthy distraction.” As the fire burned down, the shadows in the room danced across the table and walls around them.

Azjah nodded, “She must be very special Xeric. Why do you shy away?”

He grinned, “As I said, I figured it out a little too late. Her heart belongs to another.”

Azjah glanced at the dancing shadows, “The manor is not haunted, is it?” Then her attention went back to him, “I am sorry then Xeric.” She wondered whether it was the woman whose child might have been his, or whether it might be another.

He smiled, “Haunted by memories perhaps, but I’ve never seen a ghost.”

They spoke for a while about his service to Peter then, and he told her that he’d been in the military for 17 years, and was a veteran of 43 campaigns. He was what they called a Banner General. “I was cautious at first,” he told her, “But after Jade died, I think I was trying to find death. He just wasn’t ready for me yet.”

“Death takes us in his own time,” she said, then she set down the wine glass, “Xeric, I must thank you for a very pleasant evening, and fine hospitality. Though I think it is time for me to go.”

He rose to his feet and came to full attention, but suddenly seemed to realize what he had done and relaxed slightly, crossing his hands behind his back.

Azjah rose and gave him an answering curtsey, “Thank you.”

His nod was slight, “I have enjoyed having you in my home, thank you for this evening.” He moved then around the table and offered his arm to her, “Might I escort you out?”

She took his arm, suggesting that perhaps she could extend the hospitality of the Palazzo in return. As she slid into the Enzo, she couldn’t help but wonder if Xeric would find the simple life he claimed to desire.