Barbaric Spouse, Descry the Night's Lure-Chapter 53: Scene LIII

Short pause was held before Aslak answered Kleifar’s Leader.

"Since the King kept pestering, I gave in to his suggestion to tell everyone in the lands that I was looking for a mate and that I would choose from those they offered."

"I already know that. Hah! You stayed without an offer for a while, no one wanted to bond with you."

Rolling his eyes, bored at the mocking he had heard before, Aslak then continued. — "... That’s why I also offered riches in exchange."

"... A bought female."

"... Her family was the first one that got interested."

"So you settled for the first to come?"

"... It was a bothersome matter either way. I wanted to finish it so the king would shut up for a while."

At the judgemental stare of the Leader, Aslak sighed uninterested in going further into detail. Receiving the heavy sigh of accustomed disbelief from Otrur who continued speaking against the Archduke’s wishes.

"The laces the earth has tangled in fate are as such... Your nature led you to this woman that somehow... Aslak." — The warlock stated his name severely for the man was leisurely enjoying his drink. — "The Female is no common being."

"... I know."

"You know?"

"..."

Observing the man in ponder, Otrur took his mead to gulp it in frustration, for Aslak’s confusing hush meant more advice from the wise warlock.

Tok! — The sound of his wooden cup resounded as he finished its contents.

"You have to be careful."

"..."

"The Female is no common being... She has vast history and wisdom granted by such..."

Frowning to continue, Otrur Nolsvun lifted his head to face the doubtful Aslak.

"Harm... Suffering is how much wisdom is gained... Be careful of what had harmed the female long ago, Aslak... Fate brought her where she belongs... But that also means she is to belong with you."

"Are you saying the woman is my lung?"

Tak.

Leaving his mead this time away, the barbaric eyes of Aslak glanced into the fierce glow of its shade, imbuing tension to the audible movement of the people outside that caused the stillness of their ambience tangible.

"... The fated mate of yours somehow made her way to you. A wicked mate who has your lung hostage... You will not breathe without this mate once found, youthful Leader... It is told in the legend earth tells the savages."

"..... I don’t believe in old legends."

Glaring at the hard-headed man, Otrur clenched his lids in exhaustion and sorry feeling at the sight of the unfaithful Aslak, whose life could turn sour if mistakes were made.

"Did you search for the gemstone you are to gift her? The sooner you do–" — Deciding to change the topic slightly to another tradition, the scarcely crinkled village Head inquired, being interrupted by Aslak.

"As I said. I don’t believe in legends, Trur."

Enraged at his uncooperative stance he stayed shut biting his lip not to rise his voice at the other leader. Nevertheless, Otrur’s hand went to grab the unreasonable man by the fur around his collar. Spouting his next warning with the killing intent it deserved.

"You will search that gemstone and do the ritual, cursed blemish. You will gift it to her. And make sure she learns its meaning. Or you will be doomed by refusing the existence the earth granted you."

"..."

The tranquil stare, unfazed by the fury the warlock contained in his expression and tone was deep and convinced.

And looking carefully inside it... Otrur Nolsvun loosened his grip on it, roughly to then spit and reach for his mead. Directly gulping from the original container at hazardous speed, amused yet frustrated by what he understood.

"Phwaha!" — Wiping his mouth with his arm, he finished the beverage.

"..."

And at the continuation of Aslak’s silence, the warlock sneered to tell further.

"You’ve already been searching, haven’t you."

"... No."

"... The sentiment towards a mate... You have started to discover it." — Certain, Otrur met Aslak’s narrow eyes. — "Solely make sure you are honest. The shape of her fur is the footprint left by her long life. If you harm her this time... where she truly belongs to..."

"I wouldn’t wound the woman." — Aslak’s growl reverberated through the warlock’s red floods. Infuriated by the implied actions.

"You are too enrooted to the rough wildness, Aslak."

"..."

"You will regret not following this warning I’m giving you."

Ending the topic on the woman, both Leaders continued in quietness as Otrur stood to get more mead to intake and diffuse the bitterness from speaking to ears that would not listen.

Discomfort had been planted, nonetheless, in the deaf spouse. Therefore, having trust in the earth that raised his senses, the warlock came back to his place to discuss the returnees they waited.

*******

The view of the village was modest, and as she paced around, fascination turned into comfort.

’People... they are the same everywhere once you notice...’ — Ewelina thought, delighted by how little similarities from above and her birthplace could be found even between primitive people.

Watching the men, women and children roam casually with the demeanour and attitude the wildness had brought them up with, harsh expressions could be found in them. Yet humble smiles and brutish laughter could be heard, as well as working sounds treating their hunt with their personally crafted tools of rustic terminations which some methodically cared for, inspecting its sharp edge with a meticulous stare.

They were primitive. Yet human. With stronger essence of the nature they belonged to; where they could mesh in thoroughly without disturbing its harmony with garments and roofs of extravagant forms.

’... I am certain... that far in the past, I once lived in nature like this one of the village... Yet it was far too long in the past... Maybe that is why I feel so delectable below Husband’s residence.’

"..... It was too long ago..." — She mumbled, inspired by the recognised sensation the fill of her lungs with the surrounding scent caused.

’So far in long gone past... I can not remember such sights.’

The glints of memories of the woman were selected pieces a reincarnated soul such as hers picked to keep in their travels through time and new life.

As Otrur Nolsvun had told, such pieces had been picked from her vast life, those that gave birth to the soul’s pain.

Wounded fragments made the wise woman. And such fragments were related to each other. Even when different lives had been lived to experience each.

"Ai! Don’t go too far! Tha meal will be ready soon and I ain’t leaving any for ya later!" — One mother reproached her running children. Waking Ewelina from the trance of feeling the pure air in her being.

"Motha’! I’ll be back quickly! Spare me, ai?"

"No. I’ll eat it all."

"Motha~... I understand..."

A playful exchange like any other between child and parent transcurred before her. Causing pleasant expressions to invade the young yet wise Ewelina.

’... This life has not been easy either...’ — She thought, fondly. Although adversities had occurred through it short length of almost two decades. — ’I hope for the Head’s words to have a hint of truth... If it is here that I ultimately was to belong... Perhaps what I searched for so long is to be granted this time.’