Djuna
We didn't dare to start a fire for fear that the Empyreans would see the smoke, but as the fitful night progresses, my weakened body longs for the heat. It's the beginning of the first month, Wreinn, so the spring nights haven't warmed yet.
I feel...rejuvenated. Simultaneously, though, I know something is wrong. Something is missing.
My eyes crack open, swollen from too little sleep. My side aches, but not as much as I had expected.
My lungs feel like they're stuffed with foam. My chest shudders when I inhale.
Two memories, one clear and one distorted, spring to the front of my mind.
Clear, the feeling of Ezio's warm fingers on my skin. The spearmint, earthy scent of him as he leaned close and helped me. Only Reimha knows why he was so insistent on my avoiding infection. On dressing the wound himself. I wouldn't have done such a masterful job, I'm quite sure. I wonder where he learned the skill.
Distorted...I see a blur of Namiko's anguished face. Tears. Muddled whispers. I'm sorry.
I sit up straight, a slight twinge being the only acknowledgement from my wound. My nerves are on edge. I take inventory of my surroundings. It's quiet. Too quiet.
The sunlight is the first thing that tips me off. It shines directly above my head, erasing my shadow. The clouds are sparse; Mount Aqul's snow-tipped point gouges an arrow shape into the vibrant blue sky.
The second thing that sets my instincts caterwauling is Ezio. He's sprawled beside me. Snoring. His leg is hooked through mine. I tuck my knees to my chin as soon as I realize, though a part of me is angry at myself for doing so.
Ezio's curls flop backwards, his skin gold in the light. The steep line of his jaw could carve out hearts. His fluffy brows are shaped into flat triangles with the point at the arch, and I can see the line in his cheek from his near-constant smirk. With him so still and vulnerable, I can make out the tip of a scar protruding from beneath his collar onto his neck. I...I need to know what that is.
My hands are so close, fingers reaching, fabric tantalizingly close, when his lashes flutter open.
"Ah, Juju," he murmurs, lips stretching into a thin crescent. "Good to know I'm still alluring."
Panic bursts in my chest. "Oh. That is generous." I scoff, fisting my hands at my side. What are you doing? Wasting your time on a bleeding Griffari when you haven't even come to terms with Siridean's death?
My inner thoughts ring true, making my thick breath halt in my throat. I've moved past his death without giving myself any opportunity to accept it. I barely even let myself think about it, much less discuss it with someone else. The event feels like a monster in a circular maze. I keep running past it, but as long as I'm stuck in the circle, it will keep resurfacing. Not until I defeat the monster--my guilt and pain and heartbreak--will I be able to escape the loop.
Ezio's casual manner irks me. I shake his shoulder. "Get up--right this moment. Something's wrong."
Too little vichya surrounds us. Missing, missing...oh. No, no...
Ezio props himself up on his elbow, frowning. "What is it?"
My chest heaves. "I slept until noon."
His stormy eyes glitter. "So you're mad you're not tired anymore?"
"No--no, halfwit, I'm glad to be well-rested. I slept until noon. My body clock has woken me up an hour before sunrise every morning since I was five years old. For training. Stamina."
Ezio raises his brows, still not understanding. "You were up late last night--"
"Yes, but that does not matter! Without fail, I have never been able to sleep longer than that. Now suddenly Namiko is missing, I have been out for six hours longer than I should, and we're no closer to the temple than we were yesterday! Hundreds of people could be getting killed, Ezio. My people, your people--it matters not. Our island is going to die if we don't fix this, and we have already wasted a day by somehow managing to land ourselves on a pirate ship. We're failing." I take a shuddering breath, my voice quieting. "We're failing our clans." I am failing my clan. I am supposed to protect them, and I cannot even protect Namiko.
Ezio's face hardens. "Where's Namiko?"
She's gone. Whatever memory flashed in my head--that was real. Her departure is the reason I'm not detecting enough vichya. My swimming gaze roves over our campsite, snagging on a scrap of ivory cloth set atop a fist-size rock--nearly swallowed by the fluffy grass. Ezio gets there before me, flipping the fragment between his hands.
I try to peer over his shoulder, but I'm too short. Or he's too tall. I reach around his bulky bicep and snatch the cloth from his grip. His nearness floods me with cognizance; I realize just how little a movement it would take for us to--
I read the message scribbled onto the piece of cloth. I don't breathe, my heart doesn't beat, my eyes don't see, my ears don't hear. Just the words, written in blood, blotchy and printed neatly, etching themselves into my mind.
Lady Djuna--I'm sorry.
I can't let her stay broken. You have someone to help repair you now, but Mara doesn't. Kioni doesn't understand. I gave you some dreamlock so you won't follow. You have to let me go.
What?
The scrap is pockmarked with wetness. Namiko isn't afraid to cry.
Was this because I left her with Kioni? Did she learn something that made her unable to resist leaving me?
Leaving me.
Leaving me.
Namiko...is gone.
My vision blears. Siridean's gone forever. Namiko's left me now, too. You have someone else to repair you now.
Was that all she saw me as? A project for her to fix before she moved on to the next one?
The tears are hot now, bubbling up behind my eyes and in my throat. Hold it in, he's watching.
The two people I've loved are missing pieces in my heart. Gaping holes. Empty hints, meaningless promises, heart forever torn in half.
Siridean. You're my starburst, love...I am yours til the day the stars die.
Namiko. You're broken, my lady. I will serve you to the best of my ability. I would die before I let anyone lay a hand on you.
Siridean was my welcome drizzle of honey, my lighthearted kisses, my stronghold. But Namiko has always been there. Her being gone is like having a limb ripped brutally off of me.
Someone else to repair...my focus drifts to Ezio. His copper skin in the sunlight. His teasing eyes and sloppy hair. His hulking figure, his warmth, his flowery, minty smell that's comforting me even now.
It's his fault. Namiko thought she should leave me with him. Alone, because that was the best plan of action. Because...
A whimper, a kitten-like whimper, eases out of my throat. My brain yells at me to go, to hide, but all I can think of is that Ezio is the reason Namiko's gone.
Who bleeding cares if he sees me cry. I swing for his chest, but he catches my wrist. I swing with my left hand and make contact. He's absorbing the impact with well-timed ease as my balled fists pummel into him, saltiness flowing over my cheeks, anger and confusion dictating everything.
"Your fault, your fault, your fault," I cry between punches. "You drove her away." My voice breaks. Something splinters deep down. "My fault. I want her back."
I feel like an infant. A weak, dependent infant crying for their insignificant needs. What is this compared to the welfare of the Unakai? My petty heart crying out, that's what it is. Selfish. For my clan, for Zhonlaya, fight, fight, free the spirit...
Journey far, sacrifice all...
I sway. My punches were never really meant to injure him, however desperately I wanted them to be. They're halfhearted. Soft. Weak. I'm drowning.
My next hit has me collapsed against Ezio's chest with his arms folded around me. Another whimper shatters out of my mouth, sobs wracking me like a bombardment. My breaths wheeze through my lungs, still affected by the dreamlock Namiko slipped me. Gasps come shallowly. Ezio's tunic is soaked.
I'm shaking. My hands tuck under my chin.
He strokes my hair, holding me tightly against him with his other arm. "Shh," he breathes. "Let it out. I've got you, chulrys. I've got you."
I cry until I can't anymore. Until the heat of the day has emerged but I still feel numb inside.
Ezio lets me go the moment I push away. He stands silently as I stride to Indra. He watches, ready.
Dazed. Stunned. Both of us. Something hangs in the air; something new ignited, blazing tentatively. It's heavy and light at the same time, cold and hot, passionate and gentle. I reach across the distance with my puffy eyes. Beckoning him without a word.
We mount Indra together, his elbows grazing my waist again. And then we fly.