105: Retrieving what belongs to her

Retrieving what belongs to her

Blindfolded with his hands seemingly bound behind his back, Arkin was being dragged forward by two men in blue cloaks with many more following behind.0

"Arkin!" Adela cried.

As if awaiting the sound of his name to take action, Arkin managed to deliver a swift blow to the man on his right with his head, then turned and kicked the man on his left, causing both of them to fall to the ground. Rolling his tied hands in front of him, he removed the blindfold and the gag from his mouth.

"Adela!" Arkin cried out in anguish before gasping in pain and then collapsing to his knees. The veins on the sides of his neck bulged as he let out a piercing scream.

Standing behind Arkin was a man in blue robes, his headpiece covered most of his features except for his eyes. He held a flute-like hollow stick — a weapon Adela had read about before — used by Latorans to paralyze their prey when hunting.

"No!" Adela shrieked as she sprinted toward Arkin, her feet sinking into the scorching sand of the desert. She swiftly reached for the dagger concealed within the scarf wrapped around her waist. Closing the remaining distance, she almost stumbled when her enemy raised both arms in the air, a signal that was echoed by the men behind him. He discarded his weapon to the side, relinquishing any immediate threat.

"In the name of King Emanuel de Lanark, I demand you release this man immediately!" she bellowed, her voice echoing across the desert like the mighty roar of a lioness. 

The peculiar eyes of the strange man glistened with an enigmatic gleam. "Ask, and you shall receive," he uttered, his voice carrying an eerie confidence. "As you can see, my hands are already raised in the air,"

When she was certain that no one would launch an attack, Adela knelt beside her brother, swiftly freeing his hands from the tight bindings with the help of her dagger. Her determined eyes scanned their surroundings to ensure their safety before turning her attention to the paralyzing needle which she promptly discarded.

Embracing Arkin's head, still tense but no longer consumed by screams of pain, she directed her fierce gaze towards the man standing behind him, his striking eyes the only visible feature amidst the fabric of his blue robe, one eye as blue as the robe itself, the other a deep shade of obsidian.

"Healer," he addressed Adela, "Believe me when I say he willingly joined us. Your presence, however, seemed to catch him off guard... Tell her, brother Arkin."

Arkin responded with a lethal sideways glare towards the man before returning his gaze to Adela who continued to stare at the man behind him.

As she listened to the soft-spoken man's voice, now familiar to her, her mind connected the dots. The subtle accent reminded her of the Duke of Latora, yet she couldn't recall ever meeting this particular individual before. It was impossible to forget those eyes of his.

"What are you doing here?" Arkin groaned.

She looked down at him and tenderly brushed the sand away from his face with her thumbs, releasing her hold on his head when she sensed his discomfort.

"...I came to bring you back home." 

"How could you follow me all the way here... How can you be so cruel..."

"She's not alone," Egon's deep voice reverberated from behind.

Arkin lifted his gaze, shifting it between Egon and Adela, his expression tormented and his forehead glistening in the sunlight. "Tell me you didn't ask him to come with you," he pleaded.

Removing the white headpiece she wore, she placed it gently over his head and lightly brushed her thumb against his forehead. "Of course I didn't. Don't you know me at all?"

He bowed his head in response.

"I'm still the same person, and so are you..."

"Damn it..." Arkin muttered under his breath. "I need to find answers."

"You won't find answers here, brother. What is buried in the desert at night perishes before the next day's sun," the peculiar man remarked behind him.

"Look... things have changed. The answers you seek will come to you. You don't have to pursue them yourself," Adela said gently.

Egon crouched down on one knee next to Adela, "What she says is true. I promise to answer any of your questions. Uncle would gladly provide answers as well. You are his only son, after all," 

"Shut up," Arkin mumbled, the image of the Baron at the forefront of his mind.

"Come, Arkin. Let's go home," Adela urged, reaching for his arm.

"Healer, would you mind bestowing your blessing upon the men my brother knocked out?" 

Arkin stood up and grabbed the man by the fabric near his neck. The men behind them had already retrieved flutes from their robes, ready to attack. The only thing preventing them from striking Arkin was the arm their leader raised once more.

"You will address her as Lady de Lanark, and she will not tend to your people," Arkin hissed through clenched teeth.

The man stared directly into Arkin's face. "I don't answer to you, brother," he said before turning his gaze to Adela.

Arkin shook the man twice before coming nose to nose with him, his face shaking with fury. "I told you, there is nobody with that name!"

Egon's hand came over Arkin's forearm urging him to loosen his grip. When Arkin was unresponsive, he pushed his arm away.

"Rauul kept an eye on you and intercepted a few men who meant you harm. I instructed him to bring you to us to spare your sister the journey through the desert."

A flicker of pain passed behind Arkin's eyes as he listened to Egon, but he let Rauul go.

Adela tightly gripped his other arm, "Come, I will share everything I know with you," she said before locking eyes with Egon.

I will protect your secrets...

The fact that she found herself leaning towards an adversary of her own blood, prioritizing his interests over those of her own brother, struck Adela as an unforgivable transgression and tormented her conscience with relentless guilt.

pqdm.com