This stupid lake makes me want to let the fire element rage over its surface until every last drop of it has evaporated, and there's nothing left but the sodden ground and flailing fish. Or mermaids. Rumor has it that Nimue Lake is full of enchanting myths. Fantasy told creatures with big eyes and white scales, a cave that leads to a whole other world, and even a woman of extreme beauty that surfaces to show lost travelers their way home. I'm sorry to say that even if she or her mermaid friends did come to the surface and look at each and every one of us in a way that usually has men stripping down and running right in, none of us probably so much as blink at them.
It's been five cycles, two days, and twenty-two hours since I last saw Clarice. I've done nothing but fail for the past five cycles, two days, and twenty-two hours, and each day I feel as if I drift further away from my body. It's like when the Demoni took over, only this time, he seems to be just as silent and empty as me. Once the nightmares stopped I didn't feel him lurking in the shadows, waiting to pounce when night came and I fell asleep. I was relieved. It felt like a weight lifted from my shoulders, but after waking up in a small cabin in the middle of a forest even the bravest of guards from the Vandarian army feared to tread, I've felt that dark presence again. He knows that something's missing, that where there once used to be these burning lights guiding us on, darkness now mocks us for our lack of ability to keep it from slipping through our fingers. To keep her from falling out of reach.
Even before she arrived I didn't feel this...awful. I still had my friends to make me smile and travel into unknown and childish adventures with. Now...now they're not doing much better than me.
We haven't spoken to each other unless it was to figure out where to head next or to ask who's on watch and who's getting food. We're as silent as the world around us. It's like we're suddenly afraid to stop thinking about what happened or what could be happening as if doing so would blink her out of existence. It hurts not to talk to them, but at the same time, it hurts to look them in the eye when I'm reminded that it's not just Clare that I'm failing. If they knew that something broke inside of me that day they'd likely tear down the rest of the Dearg Forest that I still left standing. They'd blame me and I wouldn't argue with them. We could've had her back by now if it weren't for me, but we don't, and we're venturing to every place we could possibly think of just to find her.
We've been all through Cressida already. Crossed the scorching desert that burned our feet through our shoes despite it being winter. We raided the Assassins of Candris's keep - and by raid, I mean that I started a small fire in their kitchen that spread quicker than usual to the rest of the house. They all came running out to where the Bhaltayr, Arthur, and I waited with bows aimed at their heads. They didn't know anything aside from how secretive Willdred Maron was and how he rarely did anything more than walk around like a ghost who gave their own leader orders he never seemed to argue against. Useless information, but they weren't entirely useless. Their armory armed all fourteen of us to the teeth.
We checked a few more places that Arthur said Will might hide, or where we all thought would be a good secluded place for...questioning. When we still came up empty-handed, we headed back south and checked back at Layara before trying the cities in Vandaria, and then crossing the border into Adaeric. We've been to Serac and just finished searching Litchelle on the other side of the river, and we'll continue to Fredal in the morning. If we still haven't found her or at least news of her or Xaxias, we go towards Cadorelin. My hopes have since diminished to near nothing in the passing cycles, but that doesn't mean I'm giving up. I can't give up for more reasons than one.
We're camped on the southern part of the lake tonight, a few hours west of the river. It probably would've been smart to go from Serac straight to Fredal and then to Litchelle and Cadorelin, but apparently, there was an old Jade safe house on the north end of the lake that hasn't been used in years, so we took the trip and went the long way around. Having to see the lake for the past three days and not think about her has been impossible. It's like the biggest sign the universe could put in front of me. A screaming sign that is impossible to stop looking at unless I turn around to stare at a forest that also reminds me of her because she sentenced me to three days in one while she was suffering God's know what, and the taller trees make me think that she'd love to climb to the top and watch the sunset from up there. So I can't turn around and I can't close my eyes because every time I do that more than just my vision goes dark and it has my power rising too quickly and too aggressively to allow me to control it and keep it from feeding off of my emotions.
Ever since the Dearg Forest, I've been afraid to let my power out more than just a sliver to train with or use to take the edge off of its gathering amount. I don't want to tear down any more forests unless I have to, and seeing as we sometimes travel into well-populated towns, I'd rather turn a busy street into a ghost town. I'm not Xaxias. I won't go killing innocents to force people to get what I want. I won't let my rage and anger and fighting emotions decide what wind and flame do. It's not what Clare would've wanted.
So I've been watching the moonlight skitter across the silent ripples for hours, thinking back on when we played tag with the children, or when she stood atop Melody and we chased after her. How she wasn't braced for when the mare took off, but I was, and she gripped my arm as if her life depended on it. Or that last night, when her legs were wrapped around me because she didn't want to let go just yet. I told her we'd have all the time in the world for that later, and she knew what she planned to do even then. It makes me feel like an idiot. Yes, she's an assassin, but her darkness is what I miss and what I crave just as much as the chaos and the good.
We all miss her. You can see when one of us makes a stupid remark and we all turn to hear her snappy retort, but it doesn't come and we drift into that draining silence. The only thing that breaks the quiet is the sound of the wind ruffling the trees behind us and the nightly critters skitting about. Being able to hear all of the animals still up has me closing my eyes and taking a few deep breaths. I can only hear such things when my power is beginning to rise past a point where it's boiling over. I let a little of it out, hearing through the entirety of the forest and redirecting the breeze ever so slightly until the tension in my shoulders loosens. The slow to wake storm starts to calm inside me, but it catches the ever so soft whisp of approaching footsteps before it retreats altogether. I blink quickly when my eyes open, readjusting myself once again.
I know it's Arthur who sits next to me. He's the only one that can only be heard through the air element. Otherwise, he's a ghost floating over the land without making a peep. I suppose spending most of your life training not to be seen can do that to someone. His silent feet remind me of hers. How she'd sneak up on Kat and scare the living shit out of her. I have to shove away the thought before it ends in more than just the breeze shifting.
Kat, my parents, Ella, the orphans, Thea, Melody, Siscilla, Aillard, Thomas, and the three Jades all stayed at the cabin. Kat wanted to come, but Arthur refused to let her in case we ran into trouble. The argument was loud and long, and the rest of us took a walk through the Dearg Forest to try and drain out their voices. Clare would've settled the matter in seconds whether with name-calling or a threat or just by pulling on their ears.
Arthur doesn't say anything, and I don't look over at him. "I still have another hour," I tell him.
"I know, but I wasn't sleeping anyway. Thought you might want some company." The air around him shifts, though his body remains perfectly still. Another side effect of bearing the power of the element. I can sense someone's real emotion just based on how the atmosphere around them churns. Right now it's staggered, running small but gentle zig-zag lines that have no direction or purpose. His fingers sit still as does his foot, and his eyes don't skitter over every inch of the landscape around us, yet he's anxious. Aside from rage which presents itself as sharp arrows firing in every direction from him, and sadness which turns cold and motionless, anxiety seems to be one of the only things he feels in the passing days.
He's been doing this more recently. Sitting with whoever's on watch for an hour or two, not saying anything. Though I was needing someone to just sit with, I can't help but think that he was the one who can't do anything without someone else's presence near him. He misses his sister, and it's starting to make him unsettling more quiet than usual. It's why I use the element with him so often.
"I still look over my shoulder," he whispers so quietly that I wonder if he's talking to me or himself. I listen anyway. "We never had any assignments together, but when we did we always knew what the other was thinking. If I saw something, all I'd have to do is look over at her and she already had the same wicked idea gleaming in her eyes. When I needed to work off some steam, all I'd have to do was breathe in her direction and she'd take my hand and lead me to the sparring rings or somewhere free of people, and let me rage for hours on end. Even now I'll think about something and open my mouth to voice it to her, but then I turn around and..."
"She's not there," I finish.
"No. She's not. Just empty space reminding me that it's been another day, and we still haven't found her." He looks to his left at the empty space between us.
"If it makes you feel any better, you can yell at me for sharing a bed with her," I offer. "I know you've been wanting to throttle me since her first night as Lily." My attempt to make either of us smile falls flat. We've been stone-faced for so long that I'm finding it harder to remember what laughing - let alone smiling felt like.
I feel his eyes land curiously on me. Likely narrowed in consideration of taking up the offer and getting some of his rage out, knowing him. "At first I wanted nothing more than to tie you against a wall and use you as target practice."
"What stopped you?" I ask, looking over at him to find his eyes back on the lake, only this time they're softer than usual. A small thought and I can feel how...calm the air around him suddenly turned.
"I haven't seen my sister smile so easily in years. I hated that you were the one to make it happen, but...she was smiling, and for that, I could learn to keep my fist from your face. Plus, you're not as bad as you look."
"Is that a compliment?"
"I'm already regretting it." This time the corners of my mouth pull up, but not by much.
We stare out at the lake for a while, watching the small ripples of the water glisten with the light of the moon, and still, he remains calm. I often can't tell what I'm feeling. There's just too much going on all at once that I just snuff it all out or push it away or ignore it just to try and mimic what calm used to feel like. There are worries and fear and anger and sadness and it's all plummeting on top of me like hail that breaks windows and runs dents into a home already struggling to stand. My mind feels like a cage for four different territorial animals all used to being the alpha and unwilling to back down to one another. I can't keep my thoughts straight, and trying to do so makes me want to do things like set the lake on fire and watch it evaporate until there's nothing but damp dirt and rock left.
It's a lot, so I try to do what he did and talk about it. Takes a long while, but eventually, I remember how to talk.
"You know...whenever we fell asleep, we'd do so facing each other. There was plenty of space between us," I add quickly when calm suddenly stills into something I've learned to be a very dangerous sign. I keep going before it gets worse. "When morning came, she'd already be awake and looking right at me. Sometimes it'd be a scowl or just a distant look, but I'd wake up and find her there. Both of us still facing the other. Now...now I wake up, finding myself still laying on my right side expecting to find her still there, but..."
"She's not there," he finishes.
I shake my head and repeat his words. "No. She's not. Just empty space reminding me that it's been another day, and we still haven't found her."
"If it makes you feel better-" he looks over his shoulder, and I follow his gaze to my sleeping friends "-I think Gabe and Ethan are finding a silver lining in all of this."
Indeed. In fact, they're practically spooning by the looks of it. "How much longer until you think they'll tell us?"
He shrugs a shoulder. "I figured out on our second cycle of being in Cressida, but I would've thought they'd say something after Serac. Gods know those walls at the old inn were paper thin."
"I'm still feeling the effects of the sleep deprivation from that night. I'm pretty sure the innkeeper burned that room after we left." Arthur lets out a huffed laugh, and I'm startled by the sound that it takes me a minute to realize what it was. I turn back to the lake before he realizes, though seeing as he knew about Gabe and Ethan's little secret a cycle before I did, I'm sure he already took note of it.
"Maybe we should stop talking about it. I'm starting to hear things I've been trying to drown out of my memory for the past few days." This time I huff.
Silence has become a friend – a companion, of a sort, that we've all learned to accept. Falling back into it now is nothing of the unusual sort nowadays. It's like I said, we talk when we need to, but we no longer find friendly or casual conversation something to keep us from insanity. Then again, I'd say we're way past insanity. Talking without her here to shove herself into our business feels like walking on one leg. Arthur said that on day five of our quest. He's the worst of all of us, though he hides it better.
I don't know him that well, but I can feel when his breath hitches or his steps falter ever so slightly. I know when he clenches his fist or his chin lifts that he's thinking about tearing Willard's head off for what he's likely doing to his sister at the moment. His silence isn't because he's planning, but because he's lost. We're all lost.
Months ago, when I begged for a little bit of spark in my life to keep me from jumping off the castle walls, I never imagined that the Gods had more than a spark prepared. Oh no, this is a whole ass raging forest fire that is spreading with the strength of the four winds to push it further with every second. I thought we'd be back at the castle trying to figure out how in ten hells we get the babies to stop wailing. Not covered in every piece of filth known to man, baggy eyes, and the weakest will to live as we search for the last person we ever thought we'd search endlessly for.
I don't know what she is to me just yet. I don't know why of all people in Ker the Gods would choose us to be the elementals, nor what it is they'll hope we'll accomplish. All I know is that when I woke up two days after the Elysian Ball, laying on a dusty couch, surrounded by wooden walls and the sound of worried whispers filling my ears, I knew that something was wrong. I knew that something was very wrong when something clawed at my chest and screeched the same words over and over again.
Don't do it. Don't break it. Don't do it.
I still have no idea what it was begging for or who it was talking to, and then I felt my mind shatter and my heart gives out. I've been nothing but a lost soul watching as my body moves of its own accord. Part of the time I can step back into myself and once again pick at my nails, but even then it feels like a distant touch. No one says anything when one of us takes out a blade and pricks our finger or makes a small slice in our hand to make sure we're not dreaming. Pinching used to work, but the days became longer and more agonizing, and we found ourselves needing more convincing. We're nowhere near suicidal, but I'm not the only one who feels like there's more to this empty feeling than the absence of another body. Something shifted in the world. Something that keeps the land quiet and solemn and the whispers in the wind even quieter. I've been trying to hear what they say, but I can never get a full grasp on them. I can only listen to how slow or fast they speak.
Movement catches my eye and I look to the tree line, pain shooting through my chest as the air around me stills. I've gotten better at the power with the training I've kept up through our travels, though it seems I still have ways to go since I didn't sense the form walking toward us. Stepping out from the bushes, a doe doesn't even acknowledge our presence as it heads for the lake. She could probably feed us all three meals for tomorrow if rationed, but there's something...off about her. I can't explain it, I only know that the air around her moves differently. It seems to miss her entirely, letting her cut through it like a knife though she walks slowly and unbothered. I try pushing in closer to her to see if I could sense the anomaly, but it's like there's an invisible stone wall guarding her. No matter how much nor how hard I shove against it, it doesn't fall, and she doesn't look over.
"Darius?" Arthur's feet now sit on the rocky shore, knees still bent in a hesitant squat. I hold up my hand, stopping both him and the Bhaltayr who have all woken, and aim arrows at the animal. I have a feeling that the wall will have the arrows bouncing helplessly away before it pierces her hide.
We watch as she lowers her head to the water's edge. The entire lake seems to just...stop. Settling into a supernatural stillness. The surface looks like polished glass or solid black onyx stone that reflects the few starred sky above. Sweat beads on my brow as I keep trying to get through to her, snaking along the wall to find a crack. She finishes her drink and looks right at us. There's no twitch in her ears to listen for danger, no blink to register surprise. She just stares. Watches.
"What is that?" Al whispers behind me.
"Not a doe," Vlad answers.
She slowly looks across the lake, staring out as if looking at something. All I can see is the Northern edge of the lake, barely visible in the dark. There's no ripple in the water from a jumping fish or disturbance in the lake. Nothing but the moonlight and stars beside it to point someone home. That's what Aracely used to say. That every star was special because it meant that someone needed it to find the place they'd been searching for their entire lives. For some, it's the star directly over their heads, for others it's one across the world that they've yet to set eyes upon. Some will find it and live below it until they one day can make it shine brighter, and others won't, but nonetheless find their way to it so that peace within can settle.
It's to the stars that I've looked to the most. Trying to figure out which one means home. I've thought that maybe – just maybe – that if I find it, it'll lead me to back to her. I've glanced up more times than I can count, and still, I feel nothing. I feel like the doe. Completely unaware of the shadows threatening to take my life, entirely too parched to think of anything but what I so desperately need, and caring for nothing but what was in the distance. They say that the troubles of your past and the pain of your present may threaten to drag you under in your future, but all you need to remember is that the sun will always rise the next evening, casting out the darkness once more. Even if the darkness is all you are able to see at the moment.
The doe gazes North with such intent as if waiting for the sun to rise, waiting for it to prove that there's nothing to be afraid of when the first rays warm your skin. The sun will rise, marking the beginning of another day, another journey closer to me giving in, and like the doe, I wait for it to come. I wait for its light to redden my eyelids and wake me, telling me to keep going. To keep searching because if I don't, I'll lose more than just a part of my soul. What lies north are memories that both hurt and feel like a million sunrays warming my skin. I went back and I don't want to return again until I find her.