Marcius noticed the way her hair hung down about her face, a curtain of moonlit blonde. His hand made its way to her face on its own accord, tucking a distracting strand back over her ear. The elf looked at him in surprise and like a burnt child, he pulled back his hand.
"I just wanted to say that I'm going to miss you," he stammered, feeling silly. But he continued anyway, like the inevitability of a sinking ship. "I have a lot to thank you for. You fought for me, sacrificed for me, protected me from myself. And I'll never know if I'll see you again when I leave here. . . but I'd be honored if I could leave knowing we were friends."
There it was, the cards were out on the table. She stared at him, her head tilted, and Marcius held his breath, uncomfortably aware of how close they were to each other.
"Friends?" she asked absently, and for the first time Marcius realized that he was taller than the elven woman, a fact that he overlooked, so forceful was her presence. "I've never had someone who I could call a friend. I've had subordinates, superiors, teachers, and many other things, but never a friend. One, such as I, one with no fate, is not supposed to have such things. In fact, it is said that one without a fate shouldn't be allowed to live."
Her eyes locked onto his. She stole his breath. "And yet," she continued, oblivious to his inner turmoil, "Here I am, clearly alive. Is it wrong to want a friend? Is it wrong to be shunned because Agliarna was silent? What does it mean? All I know is that I see you, with the warmth of those you call your friends, and I am jealous. And that makes me feel terrible, because I should not begrudge you for having what I do not."
"Then let me, and my friends, show you. You'll always have a place with us. . . if that is what you want."
The elf shrugged, nonchalant, "They do not even know me. You don't really know me, for the matter."
"Friendship isn't about knowing someone. It's about wanting to know someone and being willing to accept whatever it is that you find, good or bad. It's easier to walk side by side than alone," he responded, repeating something he had heard his father say once.
She looked away, at her feet. "All I do know is that I will miss you too. It is strange. Humans were never something I thought much of. But," and her voice had a slight tremor to it, "I did enjoy our time together. I'd be lying to say that it was only for the requirement of duty that I took you out to go fishing."
Marcius grinned, relieved. "Then friends?"
Again their eyes met and he was lost in the sheer depth of her gaze. "Aye, Marcius Realure. Regardless of the war and what happens, as long as Seleniale Destane Liarne resides within Selenthia, you will always have a friend here."
He smiled, elated, and his body reacted, moving even as his brain screamed for it to stop. His hand came up, cupping her chin and he bent forward, drawing her into a kiss of the likes he had never done before. Electricity ran through their bodies and he couldn't stop himself from deepening it, enjoying the feeling of her soft lips pressed to his.
Selene had stiffened, but she hadn't pushed him away either. Her lithe body against his, her scent filling his senses, it was all too much. Eventually, and it came too quickly by Marcius's estimation, they had to come up to breathe, their faces mere inches from each other. A myriad of emotions were dancing in her eyes, but he noticed with no small measure of relief that anger didn't seem to be among them.
"Sorry, but I had to do that before I left," he whispered, his voice shaky. "I had to know. . . " How could a woman affect him so? Never had he dealt with someone whose mere presence was a trial to his self control.
He could see the inner conflict behind those windows to her soul, and decided that it was his cue to leave. His heart protested, screaming the entire time, but his rational mind knew it would never work. They came from two different worlds, but he just needed to know if there was anything there, if there was even a hope, a spark.
What he had found was a raging fire and he had to get away, lest it consume him. The kiss had been a mistake. He knew that now. It had opened many doors, and shown him what could have been. Shown him what he could not have.
He turned away, stopping a brief moment to look over his shoulder. Selene stood there, looking lost and confused and so very beautiful. The wind had picked up, billowing her long hair out, and her face was flushed a delicate pink.
He shot her a single look. "I'm sorry," it said.
It took all of Marcius's self-control to turn away.
With a heavy heart he walked back to his friends, back to his life, and toward his future at the Academy.
Epilogue
It ran along the battlement, its strong limbs accurately navigating the nooks and crannies, threading through them like a practiced needle. Every footfall was unnaturally silent, little more than hissing in the dark. It paused against a wall, the nose sniffing, widening, and as it picked up the scent of its prey, it smiled, the thick muzzle pulling back to reveal rows of sharp teeth. A thick purple tongue flickered out, wiping back the thin film of saliva that had formed on the ivory incisors.
It shifted on its back legs as it sized up the obstacle in front of it, pushing off a moment later, leaping high into the air onto the wall, completely vertical, and continuing to run as one might along a flattened road.
As it ran, images of a phantom life, from before the change, assailed it from every angle. They were momentary distractions, side effects of its creation. It recalled coming to Aralene, coming as something with two feet and an angry heart, but the thoughts did little to quell the overwhelming hunger in its gut.
Near the top of the rampart it encountered resistance, a magical barrier placed long ago by the wizards of the Academy, lending their aid to defend the city from uninvited guests, those who did not pass through the gate were not supposed to be able to surmount the peak of the wall. Such things were useless against this particular intruder and it slipped through, the magical detriment shedding along its skin like water on glass.
There! The warm glow of its prey stood out like a candle in the night, and another push of its mighty legs sent it hurtling onto the surprised guard, who didn't even have time to scream as strong jaws tore out his throat.
It began to devour the man immediately, not waiting for the death throes to subside. The guard was still aware of the sensation of being eaten alive. Pleasure coursed down the beast's body, tiny chills that had it whining in ecstasy.
In mere moments nothing was left of the guard besides bits and pieces of armor, the metal rended and split by powerful jaws. The beast licked its jowls and then turned its head toward the sleeping city of Aralene, the lights flickering off in the distance.
Far stronger than even its hunger came the compulsions, implicit orders to carry out, concerning more things to kill and maim. It panted eagerly, red eyes glowing in the early morning dark. A slight growl emanated from its gut as it considered the instructions given to it by its creator.
It looked forward to slaying those its creator decreed unworthy. But it would have done so even without the magical instructions. Flashes of its previous life instilled in it an overwhelming sense of anger toward these individuals. The only clue as to the cause of its insatiable need was a single word:
Vengeance.
The end