Uncertain Future

Morning came slowly. The sun, seemingly impeded by the cold and depressing air, crept lazily up the cloudless sky, shining softly above the trees.

A frozen ray of light peered through the leaves and shone on Lara's face, waking her up. She blinked several times before she was fully awake. The sleep she had was dreamless.

Sitting with Tarok to sleep turned out to be a great idea, as Lara woke up feeling warm and cozy despite the chilly morning. Had she been at home, she would immediately curled further into her bed and went back to sleep. Alas, her home was far away, and she had a long day ahead.

Sleeping in a sitting position made Lara's body ached, and she felt a great urge to stretch. However, as she moved to raise her arms, she found her hands stuck. Lara looked down to find them wrapped snugly inside Tarok's big palm. She stared at her hands, blinked several times, and finally remembered: she'd secretly hold his hand for warmth last night and forgot to pull hers back. Somehow, during his sleep, Tarok had grabbed them, quite tightly she found.

Lara wrung her hands lightly. No use. She thought about pulling harder but decided against it. There's no way she could free them without waking him up, and even if she did, it would be very rude.

Lara couldn't believe she had forgotten to pull her hands back.

It's all because he was so warm.

"Tarok," Lara mumbled, as if she didn't want him to hear her.

He didn't.

She called again, this time a little louder. Tarok's still snoring.

"TAROK."

His eyes flung open. He was immediately alert; his eyes scanned the surrounding.

"What is it? Something's wrong?" he asked quickly.

Lara looked at her lap.

"Can you, um, release my hands?" Lara said, feeling her face getting hotter.

The request perplexed Tarok until he saw his right hand and what he was holding.

"Huh? I didn't remember grabbing your hand."

"I know you didn't. Can you let go?" murmured Lara.

Tarok didn't let go. "Do you know how this happened, Lara?"

"..."

"Lara?"

"I was cold, alright. Could you...? Please?"

Tarok opened his palm and her hands retreated. Lara squeezed and rubbed them, although there was no reason to do so—she wasn't in any pain. She could feel Tarok's questioning gaze on her neck.

"So you were cold, and?" Tarok persisted.

"So, um, I thought...your hands were there, so I hold..." Lara stuttered and stopped talking. Her face had the color of a ripe strawberry.

"Hmm," muttered Tarok with a smirk. "Alright. I see. That's fine. After all, I'm the only one who promise not to do anything inappropriate here."

When he said that, the strawberry shade of Lara's face turned overripe. Fortunately for her, Tarok did not see her face nor pursue the matter further.

Lara stood up. "I should gather more firewood before the tinder extinguished," Lara said while she smoothed her dress.

"No need. We're leaving," Tarok said.

Lara turned around and stared at him. "But you're not well. The wound needs more time to heal," she protested. "Please don't push yourself, Tarok."

"I'm not. I am well enough to walk."

"How?"

To answer her, Tarok reached up, grabbed the tree behind him and slowly pulled himself up. Lara saw a grimace briefly flashed on his ragged face, but it went away immediately. He was tall enough that his right horn scraped a branch. Tarok turned to the branch, clutched it tightly with his right hand and in one swift movement, he twisted the wrist-thick branch like it was made of unbaked dough and yanked it hard enough so that it almost peeled off the tree.

He turned to face Lara. "See? I'm fine," he said with a confident smile.

Lara realized her mouth was agape and quickly closed it. She knew that all those muscles weren't just for show, but seeing a live demonstration was truly eye-opening.

"But... how? You were dying yesterday."

"Minotaurs heal quickly. That how we were made by the god of mountains, Palpinos was his name I think." He scratched his forehead. "I knew the way back. We should be back at camp by afternoon if we walk without break," he said. Then he looked at her for a few seconds. Lara didn't know why he stared at her without saying anything like that. Then, he looked up at the sun, picked a direction and started to walk.

"Follow me, if you want," he said, glancing back at Lara.

"Of course, why would I want to stay here?" exclaimed Lara, and she ran after Tarok.

The path was rough, as rough as yesterday. The ground was filled with rocks, protruding roots, tall grass, fallen trees, foxholes and more roots; Lara swore all of them seemed to be covered in moss. Being shorter than Tarok, Lara struggled to keep up with his pace, whereas Tarok barely had any trouble—his stump-like hooves crushed anything that's not solid rock.

"Ouch."

Tarok looked behind him and saw Lara stopped and leaned against a tree.

"I tripped over a rock," she said, rubbing her right foot. "Just go on ahead. I follow you laterrrrrrr—" Lara shrieked. Tarok had walked towards her and lifted her up in his arm as if she weighed nothing. With his right forearm bearing the bulk of her weight, her feet rested on his left hand, Tarok turned and resumed walking like nothing had happened. Lara lay frozen in his arms.

"Wh—what are you doing?"

"I'm carrying you, can't you see?" he said casually, as if it was the most normal thing to do.

"Your wound, Tarok. You're straining your left chest," Lara protested.

"It doesn't hurt as long as I don't swing my left arm. And I don't. I just use it to carry your legs."

Lara stayed still for fear of kicking him in the wound.

"Are you fully healed yet?" she asked.

"No. In my experiences, a wound like this will take about two weeks to heal completely. But I'm not dying anymore," he said, stepping over a dead tree.

"Tarok," she called to him after a few minutes. "You can drop me down now. My feet don't hurt anymore."

Tarok looked down at her. Lara noticed a faint grin on his face.

"No. Until we arrive at the camp, you stay, or rather lie, where you are."

"WHAT?" Her exclamation sent birds flying around them. "Don't your arms get tired?" she asked after putting her voice back under control.

Tarok stopped walking.

"Tired?" he scoffed. "You probably weight less than my axe. Don't worry, I can manage a little girl like you."

"All the way back to the camp?" Lara remained unconvinced.

Instead of answering, he simply grinned at Lara ominously. Suddenly, Lara was in the air, her body rose a few inches and fell back into his arms. Only when Lara had landed did she realized Tarok had flung her up like a parent did to an infant. And she was too shock to say anything.

"See? I can even do this." He grinned and did it again. This time she screamed and frantically flailed her arms around. Her hands found something and she latched to it, which happened to be Tarok's neck. His smirk disappeared when he realized, at the same time as Lara, that their faces were practically two inches apart from each other.

For a second, Lara froze. She had never been this close to those blue eyes.

The next second, she let go of his neck and dropped down, surprised to find his arm catching her, as if she had forgotten they were there. Her eyes never left his.

Tarok swallowed. He blinked and turned his attention away from Lara and back to the path ahead. He began walking. The heat on Lara's cheeks told her she was blushing. Lara folded her arms on her stomach.

"That was, stupid of me. I won't do it again," he said, his eyes didn't leave the road.

The sun was high above the trees, provided the earth and its creatures with much needed warm to combat the depressing chilliness of the late autumn morning. Lara watched the sunlight shone down in rays like pillars of golden silk. It was beautiful. The forest seemed much more welcoming and charming in the morning.

"Tarok. Thank you," Lara said.

"For carrying you? It's nothing."

"Not just this. For everything. For saving me from the fire, and for staying with me last night. I'm extremely grateful," said Lara. She noticed how his face seemed to glow in the morning light. He glanced at her. His face unreadable, but his eyes shone in the sunlight.

"Take a nap if you want, Lara. I wake you up when we reach the camp," he said, shifting his hands so that Lara could rest her head more comfortably against his broad chest. "Don't kick me if you had a bad dream," he grinned at her. Lara just feinted huffing.

--***--

Tarok and Lara arrived at the camp late in the afternoon. Lara had her eyes closed throughout most of the trip, although she had only truly slept for an hour or so. He woke her up when the old fort's tower was visible in the distance.

Tarok was visibly anxious when they approached the fort. They walked past the outside camp, which was abandoned. Tracks of chaotic fighting was still fresh, but there are no dead bodies anywhere. The fort's gate was closed when they reached it. Tarok called out to his men. For agonizing seconds, no one answered until a couple of heads poking up behind the wall. There was shouting inside and the gate was promptly opened.

Lara heard Tarok exhaled in relief. Melisza had lied. She didn't kill all the soldiers nor burn the camp down. Dozens of men, many wearing bandages, swarmed Tarok. They were glad to see their leader alive and peppered him with questions, but he brushed them aside. He held Lara's shoulder and led her to the inner keep. Tarok was about to open the door when it flung open and they were greeted with a stunned Erika. She looked as if she was seeing two ghosts.

"Take care of her for me. I'll tell you everything later," Tarok said to his secretary. He nudged Lara inside together with Erika and closed the door.

Tarok explained to his men that he had personally killed the witch responsible for the attack and that the threat was over. After that, the men rode out, back to the forest to retrieve the bodies of the dead. There were ten who set out with Tarok three days before, four of them didn't make it back. The remaining six broke through the surrounding treemen and retreated to the fort. They later told Tarok that the walking trees seemed only interested in him, and not them. That's how they managed to survive. Those at the fort were too afraid to return to the forest to look for their comrades. The survivor at the ambush told everyone that they saw a witch, and magic scared northerners witless.

As for the old woman, she was safe inside the fort when it was attacked. Casualties were light here as the soldiers quickly retreated inside and closed the door. They told Erika that the attack stopped when a giant bird appeared out of nowhere above them and flew into the forest. The treemen then promptly left too.

At dusk, riders returned, carrying with them four bodies draped in white cloths. A pyre was set up outside the fort in anticipation of the dead. The bodies were loaded up onto the top and the pyre set afire. One of the men, an old man by the length of his beard, said something like a prayer but Lara couldn't be sure. She was far away, and his voice was drowned by the crackling of flames.

After the funeral, they gathered around a camp fire outside the fort. "They're mourning", said Erika. They made speeches about the lives of the dead, their deeds and achievement as well as failures. Some laughed and some cried, but all were talking. Tears weren't the only thing flowing though, as the mead and ale were brought out. Soon they were singing and dancing.

"It's the celebration of the lives of the dead. It's how soldiers mourn," explained Erika to the confused Lara. "In this line of work, where you and your comrade can die any day, it's hard to be gloomy for long. It's far better cope with losses this way, and if alcohol could make it easier, then there's no reason not to use it."

Lara sat in Erika's office and observed outside events from the window in the room. Lara's eyes had unconsciously followed Tarok all evening. His ebony exterior made it hard to find him at night, but the two ivory horns made him stand out from the crowd.

After she had bathed and cleaned up properly, Lara went to fetch supper for both her and Erika. Lara told the old woman about her unexpected adventure: her capture by Melisza, Tarok's torture, the witch's defeat, how she saved Tarok's life and the return trip. The old woman's lips stiffened when she heard how Lara would be sacrifice. The history between Tarok and Melisza was of particular interest to Erika, she actually leaned forward to hear it more clearly.

After hearing Lara's entire story for the second time, Erika reclined in her chair, her mind pondered and her fingers fidgeted. The plethora of information put her in a pensive mood. Lara left Erika alone in her thoughts and observed the dancing fire. There's an empty black kettle sat on the ancient mantelpiece. Next to it was an empty water jug. Lara noticed that the noise from outside had died down to occasional clangs of mugs. Seemed like the funeral was over.

"So Tarok was ready to die until you pleaded with him to stay alive?" Erika suddenly asked.

"Yes, that's true."

"And you treated his wounds afterwards?"

Lara nodded.

"Anything else happened?"

"Um," Lara hesitated, then quickly added a "No" before Erika noticed. Throughout her story, Lara didn't mention that she and Tarok had sat together to sleep. Lara was forthright with most, even the gory, details, but preferred to keep some to herself.

"Well, it's late," Erika said, "Unless you want to join the men outside, you probably want to be in bed now. I won't bother you any longer."

Lara stood up and walked over to Erika. She held the old woman's hand.

"Don't say that, Erika. I'm glad to be back here, to see you again. I look forward to being your assistant again."

"Oh! Um, uh, that's, nice to hear. You don't need to say that to please me."

Lara stepped forward and gave her a hug.

"I mean it. After all the madness I've been through, spending time with you and the books is all I want right now."

For the first time since she was here, Lara saw the old secretary smiled. She stood up and returned the hug to Lara.

"I'm glad to see you again, too. I'm sorry for what you had suffered. You deserve so much better," said Erika. "Tell you what, my office is opened to you every day. You don't even have to work. If you want someone to talk to or keep company, just come. I won't tell him."

"Thank you. I'll come, but because I want to work for you. Having something to do every day helps me a lot, makes me feel like I'm a priestess of Verea again. But enough of that," said Lara resolutely, "Do you need me to refill that water jug for you. It's late and you don't have water to use."

"Oh, blasted things. I forgot." Erika glanced at the jug. "Should have done it in the afternoon, but you and Tarok came back from the dead and, well, never mind, I can handle it."

"No, no, let me do it. It won't take long," said Lara with a smile. Without waiting for Erika response, Lara grabbed the jug and walked out of the office. "I'll be back soon."

Lara walked to the kitchen, fetched the water and walked back. The night air pricked her skin like ice-frosted needles. Even though she had changed back to the dull but longer servant dress, Lara still occasionally shivered.

"I'm here," announced Lara as she pushed the door open. And when it did, she almost dropped the jug.

Staring at her was two pairs of eyes, and one of them was blue.

"Just put it on the night stand by the bed. Over there, thank you, you can leave now. Good night, Lara."

Lara strolled to the nightstand past Tarok, who was sitting on Erika's bed. She heard Erika speaking: the old woman was reporting to Tarok about the situation of the camp.

Lara set the jug down and turned around to walk to the door.

But she didn't make to the door. Instead, two giant hands grabbed her hip, lifted her up and pulled her to their owner.

Lara yelped when the minotaur picked her up. The cry alerted Erika. She looked up from the books and stared wide-eyed at Lara, who was sitting on her employer's lap. Tarok's right arm wrapped around Lara's waist, his left on her knee.

"What in gods' name are you doing, Tarok?" asked Erika in a loud and stern tone that Lara had never heard before.

"I just wanted to ask Lara a question," he said calmly.

"And you decided to do that by pulling her to your lap?"

"I'm only asking a question. Would you like to stay for a little longer, Lara?" Tarok looked down at Lara. He pulled her closer, her back touched his chest.

Lara didn't struggle, partly because she knew she couldn't wiggle out of his hold, partly because her skin melted when her back touched his chest. If yesterday he was warm, then today he was torrid. Even though her skin was separated from his by the rough fabric of her dress and his linen shirt, she could feel the heat emanating from his core. It gave her goosebumps.

"Tarok, this is highly unusual. You know you can ask her all you want tomorrow, right? Let Lara retire to her bed," said Erika forcefully.

"It's alright Erika. I can answer Tarok's question," said Lara calmly. She shifted a bit to a more comfortable position, ignoring Tarok's hands on her belly and left knee.

Erika's eyes turned from Tarok down to Lara, they had opened even wider.

"So, Lara. How did the witch capture you?" Tarok asked. His voice was soothing and gentle, nothing at all like how he used to sound the last time he and Lara were in this room.

Lara answered thoroughly, recounting every detail that she remembered.

"Melisza turned into a bird and captured you?"

"She appeared as a bird-woman. I saw her behind me, then she swooped over and caught me. I fainted when I fell from the tower. When I woke up, I was in her lair."

His eyes were glazed over, Lara noticed. They haven't left her since she began to talk. She wondered how much he drank. "The men keep saying that a giant bird flew over them and that was when the tree men stopped attacking and returned to the forest. You know what that mean, Lara?"

Lara shook her head.

"I doubted the fort's crumbling defenses could hold out long enough if a siege took place. The fact that the witch kidnapped you and abandoned the attack meant a lot of bloodshed was avoided. In other words, everyone who is alive in this fort today, in a strange way, owes you their thank, even Erika," said Tarok, giving a nod at his secretary.

Lara looked at her lap. "You're exaggerating Tarok. I didn't do anything. I just let myself be captured," replied Lara meekly.

"While it may be a coincidence that she found and abducted you on the tower, what happened inside her lair was no coincidence, Lara. Your action in that room saved my life," he said. Lara could feel his gaze on the nape of her neck, as hot as his body. For the second time today, he made her blush. She felt grateful that the room was not very well lit.

"Anyway, Erika. The report you were giving? Please continue," said Tarok. He turned his attention to his secretary, his face became serious, his eyes sharpened. Lara seemingly was forgotten on his lap.

Erika hesitated.

"Well, what about her? She answered your question," said Erika, gesturing towards Lara.

"Lara? She can hear it, I'm sure there's no harm."

Erika's eyebrows furrowed, as if she couldn't tell whether Tarok misunderstood her on purpose or not. She glanced at Lara, who nodded very slightly.

"Right... I was talking about the afternoon after the attack," said Erika. She turned her attention towards the books.

Lara sat very still. She stared straight ahead at Erika and listened. Hardly a minute went by before she felt movement on her knee.

Tarok's left hand, which had been resting there, started moving against the fabric. First the fingers danced around her knee, then the entire hand dropped to her inner thigh. And when it started moving up, Lara panicked. She grasped his hand as stealthily as possible, trying not to alert Erika, and push it back to her knee. To her amazement, his hand stopped moving. Then it flipped over and wrapped Lara hand on its palm.