Page 58 of Zel
“What happened to your hair?” Ulrich asked in regards to the red, unbound strands on the grass.
“My magic,” Zel said. “It unleashed just when I needed it to catch one of my attackers. Quite the handy trick, if I can learn how to wield it purposely. I’m not sure I want to wind this bit back into my braids as it is.” He lifted the section of hair with a grimace, given the blood already beginning to dry and becoming caked in his locks.
“Allow me. We can leave these bodies to the dirt.” Ulrich waved a hand, and the blood sloughed off and seeped into the ground like ashes crumbling after a bonfire. Then he put his hand on Zel's shoulder and transported them into the washroom.
“Is the key still in your chambers?” Zel asked with a touch of concern.
Ulrich produced it with a thought, for he could always summon the key when needed. Its connection to the tower connected it to him.
Zel laughed, losing more of his heightened tension. “I shouldn't be surprised. You are always wondrous to me, every new thing I learn about you. Yes, even the parts that come with darkness,” he answered as if Ulrich had asked the question.
Perhaps he had with his eyes while undressing Zel without the use of his magic. Why hurry a task that should be savored?
Zel's eyes were certainly easy to read before he said, “I am not yet immortal, but I could be, with but a taste of your magic willingly given when the time comes. Yes?”
“Zel…” Ulrich sighed. “Listen—”
“No. Do not deny me. It would be a curse to live forever alone, and I am sorry you have had to do so for ages and that those centuries tormented you, but it would be different together.”
“I can teach you how to resist the last draughts of power that would make you immor—”
“I don’t want to resist!” Zel stomped the washroom floor, fists clenching like the fiery youth he was. His hair, so much more a conduit for his magic now, echoed his agitation, like stalks of wheat swishing from the movement of animals walking between its stems.
Too much had transpired this morn, and Zel’s strong façade was cracking once more.
“Please, if you have me kill you and leave me mortal, Lothar will take me for his bride in your stead, and he will not be as forgiving to discover what lies beneath my skirts.” Zel said it just as the last of his clothing and armaments fell from his body and the truth of his radiance was laid bare. “We had hoped to overthrow him, but that would be impossible without your power.”
The possessiveness Ulrich had felt for Zel many times stirred within him stronger than ever. He had assumed Zel would be rewarded, praised for finishing his mission, but this Lothar meant to take. Who wouldn’t want to claim the loveliest of beauties for their bride?
Part of Ulrich wanted that for himself, but there was no right answer between them that wouldn’t end with one or both of them hurt and regretful.
“Come,” Ulrich said and took Zel’s hand to assist him into the first basin. “I will let no such fate befall you, but for now, relax and let me wash your locks of the morn’s troubles.”
With a final frustrated quiver from Zel's hair, he complied.
Ulrich positioned the basins perpendicular to each other, so while Zel’s body soaked in the first, his hair could be washed in the second. “We will use our remaining days to plan how to unseat this guild master,” he explained, kneeling at one of the corners where the basins met. He spilled Zel’s hair into the empty water like a cascade of liquid gold and washed it from roots to ends slowly for them both to enjoy the act. “I will consider the rest of your request before the month ends.”
“Thank you.” Zel relaxed as directed, sinking deeper into the basin, and tilted his head slightly to meet Ulrich’s gaze, silently beseeching him for the kiss they had been denied when the guild members arrived.
The joy, the color and light that filled Zel’s face when Ulrich gave him what he wanted almost convinced him to not let those words be the lie he intended.
But it was a lie, because if Ulrich did one selfless thing in his long life, it would be to save Zel from the folly of loving him.
Thirteen
ZEL
Much of the following days continued like those before. In the morn, Ulrich would brush out Zel’s hair and help him to braid it with magic. They would share every meal together, with dinner always including a helping ofrapunzel. They would go for walks, tend to the garden, share stories and music, but Zel’s nights were spent in Ulrich’s bed now instead of his own, and much time was spent planning how to enact upon Lothar the very assassination intended for Ulrich.
They would sneak into the guild, avoid larger concentrations of thieves and assassins, and attack Lothar while he was alone with only his sanctum guards to protect him.
Ulrich had not answered plainly yet about what would happen after Lothar was dead, but no longer would Zel accept a life carved out for him not by his own hand.
He had worried at first about Rudy, returning alone through the wood after bringing nearly a dozen with him from the Thieves Guild, but he must have been stealthy in his recruitment. Zel checked on Rudy the next day using Ulrich’s orb, searching the halls of the guild until he found him and was content to see that it was business as usual for his friend, despite the missing members.
Rudy’s next letter included:
Pity a crew of so many set out toward the Dark Forest without Lothar’s permission and did not return. ‘Tis a terrifying place, and I worry for you being so near it, my dear Zel.
