I hate my bed. I stand and stare at it, remembering when I first saw the beautiful canopy and ridiculous amount of pillows. I had never seen that kind of opulence. Those pillows are gone. Now just three plain ones taunt me from the top of the mattress. Ever since my first visit with Trelix...a week, maybe a month ago, I've developed a nice routine that keeps my brain busy, but now torture awaits.
Today, I had a nice day. Stryder and I went for a long walk. I visited with Trelix and had a talk with Jonah. The sadness kept creeping along the back of my neck and tickling my brain stem, but I was able to keep it at bay. I'm tired now. I feel all the emotional stress taking root in the marrow of my bones and weighing me down. My support structure, my spirit, is being permanently altered by pain and loss. I'm being forcibly redesigned into a person I don't like and don't want to be.
I have to get into bed. One cleansing breath and pull the covers down. Karate chop a pillow and place it on top of the other. Throw the last one to the foot. Okay, in we go. My butt sinks deep, and my shoulders are snug and supported. I rest my knee on a pillow and pull the covers up.
I miss the pegasus nose. My shin hurts at night when the sadness drills away at the special bond Lenox and I had. He's not coming back. Jonah talked about a replacement. How can I replace my beloved boy? There was one Lenox, and there is no replacing him.
Lenox is dead. Carfron is dead. Phlox is dead. Squirrel is dead. I list them all and then the injured, always ending with Trelix. If I had never come to Ashra, none of this would have happened. If I had trained harder, I would have escaped the Salt Demons. If I wasn't such a dumbass, I wouldn't have trusted Ziras.
I wish I had a clock. I bet it's almost sunrise. Soon I will be able to get up for breakfast. I think about Ziras and how he never lied to me. He omitted a lot of information. But he might have told me more had I stayed or returned. It was my only living relative, Aunt Detti, that lied to me. I understand why he withheld information and why she told me what she did. I would do the same thing if I were in their position.
"Grutt," I grumble into my pillow. I shouldn't swear, but I hear Albina banging around in her room. I probably should just get out of bed.
I open my eyes a few hours later. The only thing that forces me to sleep is the threat of getting up. I'm not rested. I don't want to move. I have nothing to do today. I woke up before I could dream, so I didn't have a nightmare. I love when that happens. Of course, that means I've had very little sleep. I don't know how I'm still functioning.
Albina takes me through the motions of my morning ritual. I don't train anymore, so I'm on my own as soon as I'm dressed and fed. I walk out my bedroom door because Albina will stare at me until I leave. I see Vromas walking down the hall. His smile is too wide. I should smile back or greet him or something, but he walks past me before my brain and face decide on a plan.
I like the way my boots click on the stone floors. The sound bounces of the walls and is joined by new clicks of my steps. I want to change pace to see if I can make the noises catch each other, but that would be too much effort.
I like clear noises. Most of the world is muffled movement around me, just a blur I need to maneuver around. I don't know if it's because of my ear or the overwhelming numbness encasing me; maybe it's a combination of the two. Click, click, click, a sharp laugh, a woman behind the door is happy. The only sounds that make it through the thick fog of my consciousness are emotions. The happy woman's laugh, a cry, shout of excitement, I hear them all, I remember when I had emotions.
I leave the village and walk to Trelix's house. Nolain lets me in and leads me to the back porch. He's there, sitting in a rocker, watching some village children play a game in the square. He looks like a feeble old man. I don't know what to say to him.
"Hello," I say too loudly. I don't know why I'm always shouting at him. His ears are fine. I guess I hope that he'll understand me and speak back in a way I'll understand.
He beams a half-face smile and makes the growling noise that is his way of expressing excitement. He doesn't remember that I visit him every day. Sometimes I wonder if he got the better deal because he doesn't remember the other stuff either. But then there are times like a minute ago when he's staring at the children with droopy watery eyes. He knows he used to be different, even if he can't remember what that was.
Our talks are getting easier. I can make out most of his words. I'm able to stay longer as I adjust to my new friend. I can tell he likes talking to me. I just wish I had something to talk about. Nothing interesting is happening. We pass the time talking about nothing or a retelling of some gossip I already told him. When I leave, I hug him goodbye, and as he does every time, he reminds me to live.
I need the reminder because I'm not living. I'm moving. I'm functioning. I'm going through the motions, but I am not living. I don't even know what it means. I feel better getting my morning obligation out of the way. I have one more, and then I will be free to do whatever I want. I just wish I wanted to do something.
I see Jonah standing on the corner waving to me. I don't want to talk to him. He sees me notice him, so now I have to go over.
"I've been looking for you. How long do you plan on avoiding me?" he asks.
"I just saw you yesterday. How am I avoiding you?" I answered his question with a question. That always brings a smile to my face.
"Good. I'm glad. I have lunch." He holds up a basket and reaches for my hand. I pull away from the contact, but I follow him down the street.
We end up in a field under a large maple tree by the south wall. It's pretty here. He asks about Trelix. I tell him and add a story about Stryder. He tells me about his day, and then we fall into the inevitable uncomfortable silence.
"I wish I knew how to help you," he says.
"I know. You tell me that every time we're together. You can't help me. There's nothing to help. I feel like I'm cursed. Like if a bad thing is going to happen, it's going to happen to me. My idea of gratitude is not that something good happened but that something completely disastrous didn't happen. Like I could have been paralyzed by a falling tree, so I'm so grateful it only crushed my leg, kind of thing."
"Hey," the tree shouts and shakes its branches.
"Not you," I say to the tree, annoyed at its eavesdropping. "That wasn't a real thing. It was just an example."
"I'm so angry all the time," I continue. "And the thing is, I want to be angry because when I'm not, I am soul-crushingly sad."
Jonah's eyes are almost round. I can feel the sympathy in them. It hurts to look at him. He reaches out for me, but I maneuver out of his grasp.
"Please don't," I whisper. "It hurts when you touch me. I don't want anyone to touch me."
Jonah puts his hand down. I can't hide the raw pain that is coursing through my body and shooting out my eyes. I jump up.
"I need to go now. I forgot I had to do something," I say quickly. I turn on my heel and walk away. It's all I can do to not break into a run. I need to get away from Jonah. I don't want his comfort or his sympathy. I don't want him making me feel better or trying to cheer me up.
I have to see Dathid's daughter anyway. I'll be early, but I want to get it over with. I have to go to the Royal Tower. It's on that side of the castle. I've lived here for what has to be at least two-plus years and hardly ever see a royal face. They all stay on their side. I don't eat in the hall or have an agenda that needs their attention. I leave them alone, and they do the same for me.
It's not that I don't like them. My treatment here has been wonderful, especially considering my return and failure. I still have my room, all my stuff, and Albína. It's just that people who are born into greatness have a different way about them. They know they're different and they think that it's better.
Dathid isn't like that, maybe because he's so far down on the crown list, or maybe it was his years at war. I've only been through one battle, and I'm forever altered by it. I understand Dathid. Our time alone, grieving in that camp bonded us. We were friends before, I even considered him family, but now, I can't explain it...We saw each other at the worst moment of our lives, exposed and raw, carrying the burden of all the death.
I wipe my sweaty palms on my pants and ring the bell. I start humming, realize I sound stupid, and stop. I don't know why I feel like this. It's just grumpy Dathid in a flashy apartment.
An elf answers the door. I recognize him. He's one of Princess Elaeria's personal servants. I guess he's their butler. He smiles wide and motions for me to step in. "Toopīn tabāka," he says with a bow.
Naga Nuru is a difficult language, and as with everything elfish, it has a lot of rules. The butler has given me a formal greeting, and I don't know if I'm supposed to give him the formal greeting back. If he thinks that my standing as a Knight is higher than his, I should give him the semi-formal greeting. But he is the personal servant to the Princess, which I know is a pretty high ranking position, so he might be higher than me, in which case, I need to match his greeting. But then again, he bowed to me, which would imply that the person who bows first is the one who has the lower standing unless it's a bow of greeting, which is just polite and has nothing to do with standing. I do know this...he does not think we have equal status because he would have waited, and we would have bowed together.
I smile back at him. I've been here a long time, and I should know these rules, but there are just so many of them, about everything, that I can't remember them all. I always fall back on the touristy; I don't know your rules or language but isn't it cute when I do it almost right. I've been doing that a lot, though, so I'm not sure how much longer that will fly.
"Hello," I say formally. "Is Prince Dathid in?" I keep it formal but in my own language. I also don't bow. I think a Knight beats a butler.
The butler leads me to a little room off the main entranceway. I'm sweating so badly, I'm afraid to sit on the delicate little sofa. I've been around elves a long time. I thought I had adjusted to their overly opulent design, but this place is super intimidating. Anyone in the universe would know they were meeting royalty if they stood in this room.
"Hey," Dathid says from the doorway, and I nearly jump out of my skin.