Under the Oak Tree

Maxi gazed down at the flower before gingerly touching the delicate petals with her fingertip. It was as soft as a feather. Holding it gently as if it were a treasure, she recalled a moment from a long time ago.

Riftan had once given her a bouquet of wildflowers. She saw him in her mind’s eye, drenched from the rain as he presented it to her. Without warning, her heart lurched painfully.

Was his first impulse at the sight of beautiful flowers always to pick them for her?

“Thank you…for bringing this to me,” Maxi managed to choke out.

“There is no need to thank me, my lady,” Gabel replied with a gentle smile.

Though she wanted to smile back, her face refused to listen. Instead, she lowered her head to hide her tears. Her anxieties, fears, and sadness melted away, replaced by an all-consuming longing. Still, at that moment, even the sharp pain felt sweet. Gently, Maxi pressed her lips to the petals.

The peace continued. Soon, even the vigilant Dristanian soldiers lowered their weapons to help the city’s restoration. They mainly hauled stones or felled trees, but some dug pits to mix mortar or shuttled sand with shovels. Maxi presumed there must be masons and carpenters among the conscripts. Even to her uninitiated eyes, the reconstruction seemed to be proceeding smoothly.

After wandering the bustling construction site, Maxi headed toward the stables. As soon as Rem spotted her master, the long-neglected mare became agitated. If not for the swift intervention of the stablehand, there could well have been an accident.

It took some time for Maxi to coax her irate horse outside. Rem still seemed disgruntled even as Maxi led her to the water’s edge. There, the mare eagerly began to devour the fresh green shoots, having been deprived of proper feed for a while.

Maxi looked on with sympathetic eyes and gently stroked her neck. “Just hang in there a little longer. I promise you will have all the carrots and apples you want when we get home.”

Rem’s ears perked up as if understanding, and she playfully nudged Maxi’s cheek with her muzzle.

Seeing the mare’s spirits lifted, Maxi took her to the square. The roadside was crowded with soldiers queuing for rations. Maxi swept her gaze over the lean faces of the men, filling themselves with watery oat porridge in a tent at the square’s edge.

The current rations were hardly sufficient. They had long consumed all the cattle and swine in the city, and some especially desperate souls had even slaughtered the egg-laying hens for food. All that was left now were five barrels of ale, ten bags of oats, and a few sacks of beans. Since they had to make do with the remainder, each meal was heavily watered down.

After observing the soldiers’ somber expressions as they stirred their bland meals, Maxi made her way to the basilica. Just then she heard a familiar voice.

“Good day, my lady.”

“Sir Gabel,” Maxi said brightly, nodding at Gabel Lachzion.

The scout party had returned. As he cut across the wide square toward her, she rushed over to him.

“How did it go?” she asked breathlessly. “Did you find anything?”

“Nothing of note, I’m afraid,” Gabel answered with a bitter smile. “It appears that the monsters of the Pamela Plateau have completely withdrawn from the area. We spotted a few griffins that had come out of hibernation near the Lexos Mountains, but we couldn’t find any trace of the dragonians.”

The griffin sighting was startling news.

Visibly shocked. Maxi asked, “I-Is everyone all right?”

“Everyone is safe, my lady,” Gabel replied with a confident thump on his chest. “However, the concern now is the awakening of other monsters. This region is home to many beast types like harpies and manticores.”

“The coalition won’t be…sending another campaign party to deal with them, will they?”

Gabel waved his hands, assuring her, “That is unlikely. Each local feudal lord should deal with the monsters in his territory. A new coalition would only form against a large, organized monster army.”

Maxi’s face fell. What were the chances the dragonians would return with another army?

As if reading her mind, Gabel added gently, “Fear not, my lady. Taking on ten monsters will be easy enough if we’re not fighting off a dragon, even if they do wield dark magic.”

A bitter smile crossed Maxi’s face at the knight’s confident assurance. If the past persecution of non-human races, which led to the downfall of elves and dwarves, made anything clear, it was that a mere nine necromancers could not withstand an army of knights. The dragonians, aware of this, had staked everything on reviving the dragon.

The dragon was their only hope.

She was lost in these thoughts when bells chimed in the distance. The low, even tolling signaled an arrival at the city gates.

As she led Rem across the square toward the main entrance, her heart leaped at the sight of armored cavalry entering the city. The coalition army had finally returned.

However, her excitement faded as she drew closer. The emblem on the knights’ yellow surcoats was not one she recognized. It soon dawned on her that it was the Dristan royal family’s coat of arms – this was the supply party sent by King Thorben.

While the starved soldiers cheered the procession of food-laden wagons, Maxi’s spirits sank. Her disappointment was palpable as she watched the soldiers eagerly unload the supplies. With a heavy heart, she turned away.

That evening, Princess Lienna held an extravagant banquet in the newly refurbished parsonage of the basilica. Princess Agnes and the young knight leading the supply party took the seats of honor, followed by the high-ranking knights and the Tower’s mages.

Initially, Maxi chose a spot between the mages and the Remdragon Knights. However, at Agnes’s urging, she joined the princess at the head of the table. An already-intoxicated Agnes poured Maxi a generous goblet of potent wine, which Maxi sipped while glancing around the hall with a troubled expression. Thick, sizzling ham, smoked venison, honeyed nuts, and dried apricots filled the long table. Meanwhile, the servants carried in a steady supply of freshly baked bread and butter.

Though it was the first sumptuous meal she had seen in months, Maxi found she could not enjoy it. It was difficult to get food down her throat when the image of her husband trekking through the mountains was constantly on her mind.

After forcing herself to at least nibble a slice of bread, Maxi quietly left the lively banquet. She crossed the basilica grounds to the spire at the back of the church and began to climb.

The summit offered a stunning view of the clear night sky, lit by a crescent moon. The cool breeze was refreshing against her cheeks, flushed from the wine. Maxi pulled a chair to the balustrade and settled into it.

A chorus of drunken, boisterous singing drifted from afar. She listened to the rowdy tune for a while before a crisp voice cut through the evening air.

“You seem to relish wallowing in your misery.”

Maxi looked around in surprise.

Lienna Moor Thorben was leaning against one of the pillars. She lightly shook the wine bottle in her hand as strolled over to Maxi. “Would you like to join me?”

When Maxi shook her head, the princess shrugged, pulled a chair not too close, and sat down.

Watching warily, Maxi finally asked, “Did you follow me here?”

“And why on earth would I do that?” Lienna replied with a snort, which Maxi found incredibly vexing. “I happen to like high places, and this tower is the highest.”

She paused to take a sip of wine, then asked mockingly, “Were you pining for your husband while gazing at the mountains?”

Maxi’s expression hardened. She had no desire to engage with this unpleasant woman right now. “I shall excuse myself,” she said, rising from her seat.

“I’ll stop being so horrid, so do sit down,” the princess grumbled in a more amicable tone. “I’m just jealous. You won the man I could not.”

The unexpected confession made Maxi freeze and turn around.

Princess, staring out at the night with her chin on her hand, mumbles, “Riftan is an extraordinary man. I have not been able to forget him after all this time.”

Maxi furrowed her brow, recalling Riftan’s assurance that nothing had happened between him and the princess. It occurred to her that he could have been lying.

“What exactly happened…between the two of you?”

The princess remained silent for a while before letting out a sigh. “I tried to seduce him. He rejected me. That is all.”

Having made the admission, she added resentfully, “As you know, he has a soft spot for the weak. He is kind to those who are sincere. It’s that softness that made me believe I could win him over if I took advantage of it, and it’s the reason I haven’t been able to let go.”

She emptied her goblet in one swig. Maxi felt bewildered, unsure of how to act around this woman who was still clearly affected by Riftan’s years old rejection. The princess, however, continued to air her grievances.

“I was wed to a seventy-year-old man at sixteen for political reasons. The marriage was a nightmare, but he died five years later. I met Riftan on my return to the capital. You can imagine how tragically I fell for him.” The princess’s tone turned bitter as she said, “But he never accepted any of my advances.”

Maxi set still, suddenly feeling awkward. While she had initially judged Lienna as brazen, all she saw now was a woman nursing a broken heart.

“I am to marry the knight who led the supply party today,” the princess continued with a wry smile. “Now that you know my sad story, can you sympathize with my temper? After all, you’ve won the heart of the greatest man in the world.”

Maxi pressed her lips together. Refusing would make her the most uncharitable of women. Reluctantly she sat back down and forced herself to drink some of the wine the princess was offering.

The next day, Maxi told Agnes of her reconciliation with Princess Lienna..𝒎

“She is truly a force!” Agnes said, doubling over in laughter. “Turning her willfulness into a situation where you can’t stay angry.”.

“Do you think she was being dishonest?”

“Not quite, but I doubt she extended her hand with pure intentions. There is a reason they call her the venomous spider. She perhaps felt the need to cool your animosity toward her after seeing your golem rune.”

The unexpected reasoning took Maxi aback.

Agnes continues with a meaningful smile, “Many will seek you out now, some with flattery, others with intimidation. You must learn to be more cautious, Maximillian.”

Maxi stopped herself from asking whether Whedon’s royal family also coveted the rune. She did not want to probe when the princess was offering sincere advice. After assuring Agnes she would be more careful, Maxi headed to the sunlit square.

The soldiers, rejuvenated by the previous night’s feast, bustled about as she made her way to the basilica. There, she diligently swept the dust in the dilapidated chapel and planted herb seeds in the back garden. She hoped these acts might somehow invoke divine protection for Riftan.

Day after day, Maxi devoted herself to the basilica’s upkeep. In moments of quiet, she would gaze out at the Lexos Mountains from the castle tower or pray in the chapel.

The weeks passed, and Vesmore gradually came back to life as more than five hundred residents returned. The markets once again bustled with activity. Finely dressed merchants lined the streets, selling rare wares Maxi had never seen. Yet, nothing caught her interest. It felt as though she alone was trapped in a perpetual winter.

After gloomily looking around the market, Maxi left the square, intending to go to the basilica. Just then, a distant bell tolled. More refugees had arrived.

Having been disappointed numerous times over the past few days, Maxi did not bother looking back. She discreetly entered the sanctum at the back of the basilica. Only high priests were allowed within the sanctum, but the city’s newly-appointed parish cleric currently had his hands full presiding over church services. Taking advantage of his absence, Maxi slipped into the room where the holy relic was stored.

The altar, once stained red with dragonian blood, was now surrounded by a pale blue light. Maxi stood before the chalice atop the altar, then knelt down and clasped her hands in prayer.

A high priest was due to visit Vesmore soon, which meant she would no longer be able to come here. Before that happened, she wanted to pray for her husband’s safety in the presence of the holy relic as often as possible.

She rose after a lengthy prayer. Outside, a gentle rain had begun to fall over the garden. The sun, peeking through the thin clouds, lent a golden shimmer to the raindrops. She reached out to feel the spattering droplets before carefully treading across the wet grass. The lukewarm rain pleasantly dotted her cheeks and forehead.

Inhaling the fresh grass, Maxi walked past the budding shrubs toward the herb patch. The wet plants gave off a fragrant scent. Absorbed in the peaceful moment, she was startled by the sound of heavy footsteps.

Turning, she saw a figure standing there. Her heart stilled. The man pulled back his hood, revealing gleaming obsidian hair and a sun-kissed face.

It was Riftan. Maxi stood transfixed, watching raindrops trickle down his long lashes and cheeks. The metallic clinking of his dark gray armor filled the garden as he approached her, and it was this noise that confirmed to Maxi that this was not an illusion. She blinked rapidly at her burning tears.

A mysterious, grayish gold light colored Riftan’s eyes. His rain drenched face appeared gentler than ever. He was so beautiful that it was hard to believe he was not a figment of her imagination. Then, he smiled.

“I have returned.”

Maxi was speechless. A heartbeat later, she remembered her resolve to welcome him warmly. Smiling through her tears, grateful for the rain that disguised them, she replied in a voice thick with emotion, “Welcome back.”

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