"Good news. I would say you are all healed up." Knox clapped his hands together as the back of my tunic dropped from his hold. The joy I should've felt from hearing him say that didn't come. Instead, inklings of panic and dread filled my limbs.
"What? Are you certain?" I reached a shaky hand around my back to lightly graze the scars there. When my fingers brush against them, there's only painful memories.
"The redness is gone and the scabs are healing." He prodded my back but the only thing I flinched from was his cold hands. "The scars will likely never go away but they will fade over time. And you can put this entire mess behind you."
Knox stood from his chair, brushing his hands on his pants as he did so. He had been bringing less and less each visit, the tell-tale sign that I was healing. Today, he came empty handed.
"I suppose now you can finally go back home." His dark eyes glistened behind his glasses but that could've been a trick of the light but Knox ducked beneath the doorway before I could be sure.
I can go home. The only thing stopping me from leaving before was my injuries, but now that they're healed, I can travel safely. I stared at my hands curled in my lap, at the burns that didn't blister. Just like the scars across my back, they brought painful memories with them. Memories of the slavers' camp, the raid, home. Dast would've mourned their losses from the raid, would probably only now be rebuilding what had been burned by the violent slavers. The crops would've been delayed in their harvest if the ash that lingered in the air hadn't killed them.
Father would refuse to leave his office, even when letters came that ordered him back to the capital. Days would pass in a haze and he would become a shell of a man, similar to what had claimed him when we lost our mother. His armchair would be pushed by the window that overlooked the targets I used to practice with Davin.
Davin, who I could only believe was alive and well, would be waiting for me with open arms. He would be in charge of the house while my father's mind was lost to his thoughts. He would oversee that everything returned to normal. He might even start teaching Ayla what he had taught me.
Sweet, mischievous Ayla would perch on the rooftops and stare at the open fields, waiting for the moment when I returned. But during sleep, her nightmares would be filled with bobbing lights weaving through the woods and a cold, damp cellar. Her nursemaid would aid her during the night, but Ayla would only push her away.
I would be a fool to think that my return would suddenly fix everything. As if I could erase the past month. The scars will have run deep and I know that better than anyone. In truth, I was afraid of what awaited me back home, what would be left to sift through in the ruins.
_____
"Stop moping. He'll be back soon."
"It's not that." I didn't have the energy to roll my eyes at Anders. We had just left the dining hall, where I had tossed out my almost full plate of sweet peas and dried beef. I couldn't stop thinking about what Knox said. I could go home.
"I'm just homesick-" Was I? Yes, I decided. That had to be the cause of the crushing feeling in my chest. "When I was taken, I thought I'd never see my family again. And now... I was with my uncle and sister when we were raided. I don't know what's become of them. The last time I saw my uncle, he was facedown in a pool of his own blood. Honestly, I'm scared to go home. What if things are different and not in a good way?"
I swallowed past the lump in my throat, blinking back the tears brimming in my eyes. "Sorry," I said, thickly. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Anders shove his hands into his pocket and I couldn't believe the awkward mess I had made. It was only when he pulled a white handkerchief that I saw the frown tugging the corners of his lips downward. I took the offered handkerchief with a swipe across my eyes and a mumbled, "Thanks."
"I had a brother, a few years younger than me. His name was Bran. He was only a babe when we left Fraossau but he was my best friend. Past bedtime, I would sneak out to his nursery just to watch him sleep. I would dream of all the adventures we would go on when we were grown. It amazed me that something so small could already mean so much to me. I loved him.
"He died when we were traveling to Rezantri. Fell ill somewhere along the way. We had to bury him in a shallow grave by the road because we couldn't afford to bring him with us. I was angry at my parents for a long time because I didn't understand why we had to leave him. When I think about him now, I can't picture the color of his eyes or if he had hair on his head. I just remember the love that I felt for him.
"If you go home and don't find what you expect. Just remember you'll always have the memory of them in here." Anders places a palm on his chest "Sometimes, we have to do things that we are afraid of, but if you never go home, you'll never know what you have."
"Thank you, Anders. And I'm sorry about your brother." We stopped in front of Rylan's cabin. I extended his handkerchief back to him but he waved it off with one hand.
"You keep it." Anders shrugged, hands deep in his pockets. "I'll see you in the morning."
Anders walked a few feet away to where his tent was set up next to the cabin. I watched as he ducked his massive frame beneath the tent flap before doing the same. Rylan's cabin was dark and a chill had set in. There was an empty brazier near the table that I could move into the bedroom but just the thought of lighting it made my palms itch. Instead, I found a few candles tucked into a drawers with a pack of matches. That would have to suffice.
I started towards the bedroom, tripping over something in the dark. I caught myself on Rylan's empty cot and found myself staring at the neatly folded sheets that would undeniably smell of earth and soap. An extra blanket wouldn't hurt.
As I settled in, the lit candles cast dancing shadows on the walls and Rylan's blanket was spread out over the bed. It was quieter than usual without the cot's squeaking hinges in the other room. No sooner had I closed my eyes, that I heard a rustling noise in the corner of the bedroom.
My breath caught in my chest as my eyes snapped open. The candles had gone out and the room was pitch black. Even the moonlight that had streamed through the window was gone, blocked by a mass of clouds. I squinted in the darkness, trying to make sense out whatever had made the noise. A bug or maybe a small rodent. That's when a large shadow stepped forward, large and human-shaped.
"Hello?" My voice sounded as lifeless as the spent candles that had been snuffed out.
The shadow crouched on all fours and slinked towards me. I could do nothing but watch as it grew larger until it was only a lunge away from my neck. Its shadowy eyes glinted as it watched its prey and terror sunk its claws deep in my chest which rose and fell rapidly with each breath. I could hear its snarl in my ear, and I squeezed my eyes shut, willing for it to go away.
When it didn't pounce, I pried one eye open and let out a deep breath of relief. The candles were lit again and the shadow was gone, nowhere to be found in the room. Shakily I sat up in bed, running my fingers through my hair that was damp with sweat and sucking in deep breaths of air. The moon had returned, illuminating a small patch of white light on the floor and I focused on that instead of the darkness lurking in the corners that hid the shadows.
Each time my eyelids would start to droop, the shadows would flicker again -whether from the candle's flame or from the creature returning, I couldn't tell anymore- and I would bolt upright, panicked. My fingers drummed against the covers, thrumming with pent up energy from my restless tossing until I finally tossed the blankets off and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. Fresh air would help.
I slipped my boots on, tucking the knife from under my pillow safely inside. As I stepped outside, I could feel my fear dissipating, my heart finally slowing in my chest. The full moon hung in the sky just as it always did and I thought it was only a few hours until dawn.
There was no one outside at this time and as I tiptoed past Anders tent, I could distinguish his large figure tangled in a blanket that was too small for him. I wasn't aware of the destination my feet had in mind for me, but it didn't surprise me when I turned up at the archery range. Old habits.
I grabbed a strung bow from a rack nearby and walked towards a quiver of arrows that had been set up opposite of a target in the distance. This bow felt heavier than I was used to or maybe that was because I was out of practice.
My body hummed with excitement, the shadows long forgotten as I pulled an arrow free, resting it on top of my left hand. The red painted target taunted me as I pulled the bowstring back. This time I didn't fumble.
The arrow soared across the sky, cutting through the air like a knife and embedded its tip a few feet from the target. I rolled my shoulders out, getting rid of the stiffness before nocking another arrow. This time it landed in the second ring of the target. The next, dead center.
I fell into a familiar rhythm. Nock, draw, loose. Over and over until my arms shook and my shoulders ached. I gathered the arrows that had stuck into the target and placed them carefully into their quiver, making sure to put everything exactly as I had found it, covering all traces of my having been there before strolling back through the camp, just as the sun began its ascent.
I was more relaxed than I had been in a long time and I could almost forget the past month. When I laid my head to rest, there were no shadows waiting for me.