I *noticed* Altair. Oh yes, I did. I didn't know what was wrong with me, noticing him, a man, in the way I did, those sharp cheekbones, long legs, that straight back, and the way the curly hair fell across his eyes. Those blue-gray eyes, that saw through everything, that seemed to see right through me when he looked at me with his cool gaze. That brain! He put everyone I knew to shame.
The first time he caught my eye I put it down to the heat of the moment and fascination with Altair's power. After all, hadn't I just seen him cast a shield powerful enough to deflect an iron bull's charge? We killed it together, mage and warrior, but the charge that had flung me off my feet to land dazed, thirty feet away, simply bounced off Altair's magic shield. Altair looked like something frightening and alien then, his hair flying in the breeze, hands up, maintaining the shield, teeth gritted. I could feel the power coming off him in waves. We had no mages in our family, and no mages on my isle. Ever. In two hundred and fifty years of history. I'd never seen such a thing. People were always a little afraid and timid of mages, but I wanted to see more. I wanted to learn more.
The second time I caught myself looking at Altair too long and with too much feeling was the time Altair cast a whirlpool portal on the water. How did he do this? By walking on the water himself. I stared in fascination and some awe as Altair drew patterns on the water, and then easily levitated himself onto the deck. Even in the middle of the raging maelstrom, Altair's expression never changed. A cold fish, that one.
It wasn't like Altair did anything to encourage my interest. He was brusque and rude and standoffish and sometimes I felt I would like to do nothing better than to bring him down a notch. It was impossible, however – he never bent enough to get a lever in.
I could no longer deny my fascination, however, when Altair turned a golem that had been attacking us. Actually made it turn around and attack its owners. I hadn't even known people could do that.
I'd never had so much interest in another man, and in time I could no longer deny that I felt strongly about Altair, loved the *idea* of Altair. But I told myself it was the power that made my mouth go dry. I craved that power with a hunger. But it was platonic. I just was platonically fascinated with him. That happened all the time. Right? I knew I liked women, after all. I certainly had no other thoughts about him.
Still, I thought my feelings were hidden from Altair, or more likely, ignored. I mean, he knew I admired him, but that meant next to nothing – that was normal and I knew Altair thought of it as his due. He expected it, in a way. That and fear, which was the most common reaction to him, but I felt very little fear. Just a little.
But one day it all came to a head. It was after a major battle at the keep, and I, who had been warring in the courtyard, had seen yet another demonstration of Altair's power. Our enemy Miriam Laurentis had attacked the keep in three waves. First had been skeletons, rising from their very own graves. The fight had gone for some time, but eventually Altair, casting from his tower, had imbued all of the skeletons with an ethereal pale glow which helped to find them and locate them, and, about ten minutes after that, had detonated them, one after another. Then, she had begun to cast lightning bolts. Guided, huge lightning bolts, which came down one after another and struck people, killing them. I had gotten myself and my personal guard undercover. We were weary already from the skeleton fight, but there was no way to fight lightning bolts.
But she had only killed three people when Altair retaliated. The next lightning bolt came down, actually stopped around eighteen feet off the ground, and then turned at a right angle and zoomed off. The next one, same thing. He did it six times before she finally decided there was no further point in this exercise.
Lastly, she cast Shades to attack people and draw out their souls. We fought, but it was clear we had no way of killing them except with magical weapons, and only a handful of my men had one. My own sword was enchanted, but I could not be everywhere. At this, Altair left his tower. Standing on the parapet, casting spells, he was an impressive figure, dark and mysterious, the wind billowing his robes around him. He not only halted the Shades but also forced them to return the souls they had taken that day.
And now the battle was over. I knew there was no way we would have triumphed without him. We might have fought the skeletons and even the Shades but we'd have been destroyed at the lightning bolts. I had bathed and changed and directed what needed to be done for tonight, but I was exhausted. Almost too exhausted to sleep, I decided to go up and see Altair and see what damage had been wrought on his tower. As an afterthought I grabbed a bottle of the brandy I knew he liked.
I knocked on the door to the tower I had let Altair have the use of as long as he served me. "Enter," came Altair's smooth baritone.
I plodded up the stairs. Normally I would take these two at a time, but today I was far too tired. Behind him, the door shut gently and locked.
"Altair!" I called, entering the main room – and then I stopped. The main room of Altair's tower was a mess. Books and papers were strewn everywhere. The couch was overturned. His enchantment table was on his side. And in the middle of this, sat Altair, on the floor, more relaxed than I had ever seen him. He was actually slouched, and there was blood on his forehead, but he looked content.
"Altair, what happened? You're hurt."
"She decided a direct attack was in order," he said, gesturing to his cabinet, which was ripped open, the door off its hinges. "She sent a Death Knight."
"To your armoire?"
"Yes." He arched an eyebrow and looked at me. "Is there something wrong with that?"
I laughed. "No, it was just surprising. Of all things to attack through. Here, let me take a look at that wound."
"It will be fine," but he allowed me to look at it, and bandage it up. It wasn't bad, but scalp wounds did tend to bleed a lot.
"Here, I've brought some brandy. I figured we could have a little celebration."
"Oh?" said he. "Shouldn't you be celebrating with your own people?"
I clicked my tongue in mild annoyance. "I will celebrate with them. I just wanted to check on you first. Believe it or not, I like talking to you. I always learn things. "I poured out two shots of the brandy.
"Here, it's the stuff you like."
"Indeed. Thank you." Sometimes he could be excessively polite, that one.
We sat and drank for a few moments, in silence. I spoke first.
"That was pretty amazing, what you did down there. Deflecting those spells and all."
"Oh?"
"Yes. It is, quite frankly, amazing, watching you deflect her spells. She must be furious."
He laughed in his customary way – just a short, sharp retort.
"What's so funny?"
