When I said I missed the good old days, standing for hours outside of a door wasn't one of the moments I was thinking about.
In Thralia, we wouldn't have to worry much about the elemental's lives. Everyone knew you'd either be drowned or choked the second one of them felt you and didn't recognize you. Not to mention that Willa always had wards about the entire castle to stop intruders before they could get any further than a few feet into the grounds. That left time for us to train or rest for whatever trip the elementals had planned.
It was on those trips that our skills would be put to the test. We'd ride out with the Maiestatis in their open-top carriage, Willa sitting inside with them, and the ten of us all on either horseback or foot depending on how far the journey was. The Thralians knew who we were in our black and blue fighting leathers, and when we wore our armor, it meant that we were most likely headed to a lord's manor. The armor was more for formality than anything. I didn't mind the extra protection, and the metal was forged specifically for each of our bodies, that way it fits seamlessly and doesn't interfere with our movements.
We left the mist blue armor in Thralia, and I'd pay a good price to have it here now. The fighting leathers are great and all, but there's still a raver's corpse stinking up the King's Garden, and where there's one, there's a whole pack of them. No one wants to go anywhere near it, and we're too busy watching the Mater to do the job. If there's one of them here, then there's undoubtedly more in the continent and the elementals would be the only ones to feel them. The Mater more so than Darius if they're underground.
Speaking of Thralia, we should get back before Xaxias decides to do something stupid. Thralia's always been his first target, it's likely where he'll start his conquest. Of course, it's convincing Darius to leave that's the problem. We'll need both elementals in order to kick him out of there, and based on the way that Siscilla walks out of the room, her body sulked and weary, I'd say that he's going to be the only elemental in the right mindset to do such things.
We've been standing in this hallway all night, not moving and keeping our eyes peeled and ears straining to hear every critter running through the walls. Tsillah returned late into the night, sometime before one bell rang. I didn't have to say a word before Tanith knocked on my mental wall and relayed the information Tsil discussed with the others in the council room.
The Jade Assassins are sticking to their posts until Aillard has a full count of guards still in town, and depending on their numbers, the Jades will either stay to fill in the empty spots, stick to their posts, or return to the House of Jade. The Lords and Ladies of the court will soon hear of the reclaim of the capital, and likely be here within the cycle, if not in a cycle. This means that we'll need the entire castle staff back as soon as possible. Their numbers are likely to be depleted to a select few as well. The town is near empty. Everyone who was saved likely repaid us by going elsewhere in search of work and money.
Darius doesn't like the idea of calling them servants, so the new name for the people who work here is a debate in the making. Ethan and Gabe already have a list going.
Gaining all of the staff back is a headache in itself. We'd have to spread the word throughout the continent that the castle is once again our own, and then it's a matter of waiting for people to slowly file in. Siscilla said that the healers are bound to Vandaria, so they'll be easy to summon as they would've never left the continent. As of right now, ten healers have already returned overnight. They've been in the tower cleaning the levels and getting back into their own rhythm.
Then there's the obvious topic of discussion: The war undoubtedly to be on the horizon. Xaxias taking Fernweh was meant to scare people and spread his name throughout Ker, he never planned on being trapped within its walls, and definitely not for so long. Whatever plan he has cooked up is going to be moving into action sooner than later.
We have one-hundred and seventy-five ships from the Devil's Pride fleet, little over five-hundred Jade assassins, us ten magical Thralians, less than fifty Thralians in hiding, whatever number of Vandarian guards, and two elementals, all so far allied to fight against whatever other hell hounds Xaxias is pulling from the underworld.
Nilsa and Mak didn't find anyone in the dungeons when they went swimming in the maze, and there were no signs of escape. The Queen's tunnel from her cell to the surface was sealed by her, though the southern wall seemed to be half standing and half-collapsed. We took a guess as to who was the result of such a mess. Both of them are tired now, though they stand tall and alert as always on the other side of the door beside me. Every one of us is tired, and despite us being able to stand here for a few more days before beginning to complain, I'd rather us be rested than not.
I open the door to the Mater's room on the third floor of the Healer's Tower and motion for all of them to follow.
Willa sits in the chair next to the Mater's bed, the Queen fast asleep with her alpha already at her bedside. The healer lays in the bed on the other side of the room, the witch and Gretel sitting at her side as she sleeps. I motion for my sisters to stand down. They need the rest, and with us all in here I doubt that things will go too far sideways.
"How is she?" I ask Willa, coming to stand at the foot of the bed.
"Recovering beautifully, albeit slowly. She'll have to gain her own muscle and strength back, but we managed to save her organs before they all went cold. Her kidneys are the worst, but it's not anything I can't mend given the time. Both of their lives would've gone forfeit had we waited one more day."
I suppose she's right. The moment the Mater died, they would've ended the healer's life since she was useless. Xaxias wouldn't have seen her as leverage over us, and despite knowing that we would've at least attempted to free her, if not to negotiate her release, he would've seen it as a waste of time and cut her loose. He's psychotic.
"And the healer?"
"Should wake soon..." she drifts off, her eyes narrowing at the young woman.
I watch the healer too, feel at how something inside me tugs towards her and begs to get closer. I don't know this woman aside from her name and the deed she's done in the past months. Tanith can't get into her head. She's tried multiple times since we've walked in, as people's minds are more vulnerable when they're sleeping. Dee still can't see anything aside from her present, same goes for the witch at her side. The witch we know nothing about aside from her two professions, name, and heritage. The two of them are mysteries, and I don't like it.
"Are you going to tell me what you're hiding?" I ask, turning my gaze back to Willa.
She rubs at her head, likely harboring another headache with her powers being stretched far and wide at the moment. "I've been hiding many things for many years, Rohana. You're going to have to be more specific."
"Don't give me that immortal crap. You know something - perhaps several somethings - about the Mater, and you're not the only one who knows it. I think there's a reason why Tanith can't get into your mind, nor can she read those of Roseia, Gretel, Claritia, and Thomas, not to mention those two," I say with a glance to the witch and her apprentice. "And don't say you don't know what I'm talking about. It's your mental walls that are shielding us from them."
"Some things, Rohana, you don't need to be told what they are to see them. Your eyes are there for a reason. Use them."
*****
The healer wakes up an hour later, her head cleaned and skull once more clear of all cracks. Siscilla said that she had fractured hands when she and Roseia went to go see her the night before yesterday. We knew very well of the healer's health status. Kathika was there when they took the hammer and broke them. The Vandarian healer glared, but she knows our reason for not aiding the girl.
"Relax, you're safe now," the witch coaxes when Hira goes to sit up.
"Clarice-"
"Is resting and being thoroughly guarded." The healer notices us then, her eyes snatching on me. It could be because I'm the only one still standing while my sisters sit or lay on the floor. Or, it's because she remembers the day we left her behind while getting the others out. Either way, I nod my head to her in acknowledgment.
"Your name's Rohana." She's got a good memory. "Visha wants to kill you."
"The feeling is mutual," Nilsa says, coming up beside me.
I incline my head to her, my sisters standing to do the same. "Thank you, Hiraeth Koranyl, for caring for our Mater Natura when we could not. We owe you our lives. If there's anything you need - anything at all - do not hesitate to ask."
"Anything," Willa repeats with an incline of her own head.
Hira looks like it's going to take her a moment to try and process what just happened, but the witch seems to have other ideas. "I don't think you'll be making such vows later."
"And why not?" Mak questions, her feet squaring off for a fight.
"Before I answer that, we ought to get Darius and the others in here."
"Why?" I push.
"Because this won't just be your lives my words and claims will affect, though it will be all of you who will likely suffer a great many emotions from them."
"You-"
"Rohana, do as she says," Willa orders, keeping her eyes on the witch.
"I-"
"The sooner you get them here, the sooner we can hear what it is she has to say. Go." We hold each other's gaze, hers full of authority she doesn't have over me. I could outright refuse, but common sense is getting the better of me.
I mist out without a word, reappearing in the King's Garden where Darius and the Bhtaur are all staring at the raver's corpse. They all straighten at my appearance, though Darius just raises his eyes. He's being weirder than usual, but it's not my place to question it.
"Your professor witch has requested that you be brought to the Healer's Tower."
"Is something wrong?" Alister asks. Concern coats him like the mud coats my boots. I have yet to change out of my clothes from yesterday. My cleanup consisted of taking a damp cloth to my skin, and that was about it.
"That has yet to be seen. Clarice is well and resting, but it's the healer in which this concerns - and no, I don't know why, as she's awake and perfectly healthy," I add when Garrison goes to ask. I ignore his clear concern, not needing protective male bullshit breathing down my neck.
"What about...this?" Gabe asks, gesturing to the Raver.
I shrug. "It's dead. Normally, they could revive themselves despite their injuries, but after Clarice destroyed its heart, that possibility was killed. Destroy the heart, and you kill the beast for good."
"You've encountered them before?" Alex asks, looking nauseous.
"Once. Xaxias let one loose in Thralia three decades ago. Took us five days before we finally realized why the thing wouldn't die. It took Nilsa chopping its heart in half for it to finally be truly dead."
"What do we do with its body?" Amel asks, scrunching up his nose.
"Late King Hart, Dawn's father, burned it. The meat on its body is poison to anyone or anything that eats it, hence why there are no flies or maggots already chowing down on it. The blood is a little harder to get rid of, but nothing that can't be burned off. Tsillah can tell you all about them later, but we should get to the Healer's Tower."
A fire erupts over the raver's body before anyone can respond. I consider it an answer enough and call my sisters. They grab the Bhaltayr and then take them to the tower. None of them have seen their friend, so they're all being brought into the room next to it. Better they don't all start crying like children. Also, Darius still doesn't look like he wants to be anywhere near her.
I heard the wind yesterday, and this fire is hotter than necessary to melt the flesh and blood. I wait for him, and when he looks at me the command is clear. Neither he nor his friends go into that room. I bow my head in compliance, and then put my hand on his shoulder and let him look at his flames for a few seconds more before taking us up.
Lance and Katarina are already there, along with the pirates, Thomas, Roseia, Siscilla, Claritia, and Aillard. The children and twins are nowhere to be seen, but Tanith is likely keeping her mind on theirs.
The door opens, and I turn to find Darius already leaning against the far side of the room, furthest from the neighboring room. The witch walks in with Hira on her arm, Gretel following them. Willa mists in beside me, and I look down at her palm to find a cut in its center already stitching itself back together. She drew wards all around the Mater's room while we were herding the sheep.
Hira looks at everyone, though I do spot how her eyes catch on Garrison, and it seems I'm not the only one. Everyone's glancing between the two.
"Good to see you're awake," Gabe greets her with a wink.
She gives him a shy smile, though the redness rising quickly to her cheeks gives away everything. "It's good to finally wake up to sunshine rather than the scratch of a door opening," she responds.
"Yes, yes. We're all happy to be alive," the witch berates with an annoyed look. "Now I should warn you all, this is going to be...distressing."
"I think you've already checked that box," Ethan sasses, earning a vulgar gesture from the woman.
"Sit," she tells Hira, pointing to the chair she dragged over from the corner of the room. "Siscilla, if you would. I believe this requires more practiced hands."
The Anevay walks over slowly, her brows creased in confusion. "For what?"
The witch pulls out a healer's knife from her pocket and holds it out to her. "An incision about a finger's width above the clavicle, two inches from her sternum. Try not to hit the subclavian artery. You'll know why when you find it."
"What?"
"Trust me. It's harmless." Siscilla slowly takes the small blade from the witch's hand and turns towards Hira.
"This is insane," Garrison objects, stepping forward. A few of his friends purse their lips trying not to smile behind his back. "You don't really mean to cut her when she's been through enough."
"Believe me, son," the witch says. "You have no idea what this girl has been through."
"And you do?" I challenge, crossing my arms. I'm not a supporter of this either. He was right, the healer had been through enough.
"No, but the ten of you do, and I'm not talking about her time down in the dungeons."
She turns back to Hira, who's only now just understanding that it's her skin they'll be cutting into. We've only known this girl during her time in the dungeon, what else could we possibly not know? I don't necessarily like the idea of them cutting into her, but curiosity gets the best of me, especially since the witch keeps saying that we're the ones who won't like the results. I couldn't even begin to come up with reasons as to why we wouldn't like the healer, but I learned a long time ago to not set expectations. People tend to fall short, and it's just easier to already accept that than hope for the better.
"Wait, what?" Hira's wide eyes bounce between the only two people she's known her entire life and the knife in Siscilla's hand.
"It's alright, Hira. You'll remember everything soon enough."
"Remember! Remember what?"
"Tilt your head to the side," Siscilla instructs her as the witch puts her hand on the girl's cheek and turns her head, stretching her neck laterally.
"Aracely-"
"When have you ever known me or the Anevy to harm you?" Hira stays quiet at that, but she still flinches when Siscilla brings the blade down to the skin above her collarbone.
"Is this absolutely necessary?" Garrison objects again.
"Keep still, Hira," Siscilla says firmly, ignoring Garrison.
She begins to make the cut, Hira not seeming to feel it which means that she's numbing the area with her power to keep the girl from wincing or crying and causing Garrison or one of us to stop them. Still, I hold tightly to my power, ready to freeze the girl in time should her artery be knicked and in need of healing before she dies. Willa's own power swells beside me, my sister's all ready to move into action should something go wrong.
Siscilla continues her incision, no longer than an inch in length. Blood swells and spills down her collarbone, staining the gown she has yet to change out of. The healer deepens her cut, now likely going through the muscle that's already thin, but I'm too focused on the scent of the blood to care. Willa's nostrils flare as well, and we both take a step toward it. Mortals smell blood and say it has a copper scent, but with our enhanced abilities, we can smell the difference between two people's blood.
I smelled this scent - this all too familiar hint of honey and coconut - yesterday during our rescue, but I thought it was the Mater, not Hira. Dawn's blood always smelled like coconut, which is why I wouldn't have been surprised that her daughter carried on the scent.
"Hand me the cloth over there," Siscilla says to no one in particular. Katarina moves first, grabbing the towel from the counter and waking it over to her. Siscilla takes it from her, and presses it to the wound, trying to soak up as much of the blood as possible to see. "What-"
"Here." The witch pulls out a pair of tweezers from her pocket, handing them to Siscilla. She takes them, giving the witch a curious look. Willa and I take another step closer, this time Nilsa and the others doing the same.
There truly is something odd about her, and maybe it's the thing that Siscilla's trying to get with the tweezers, or maybe it's the girl.
Siscilla slowly pulls out the tweezers, her hand moving slowly and carefully to pull whatever it is she has out carefully. Hira still doesn't wince, she just looks scared. Once she gets it free, it's hard to tell what the thing is at first with it covered in blood, but the size is alarming. An object that size would cause anyone to always be in pain, but the healer didn't seem to be bothered at all.
Katarina takes the object using another towel and wipes the blood clean. When she opens her hand and unfolds the towel, we all gape at the sapphire jewel the size of a sparrow's egg. The thing seems to glow like Morana and Visha's own rubies.
"Is that-"
"A soul stone, yes - but not the kind you're thinking of," the witch says, taking the jewel and walking over towards Darius, leaving Siscilla to heal Hira's neck before the girl goes into a panic and faints. "Red soul stones contain the power to summon a being from the underworld and allow them to possess a body. Blue soul stones allow for an already living person to hide their own soul within the stone and therefore become someone else entirely. It's a daunting ritual to perform, and only a few have been known to accomplish remerging their souls with their bodies."
I remember my lessons with the Counselors of Thralia on the subject. There are three types of soul stones: red, blue, and purple. The purple one is extremely rare and hard to find. They're said to be a connection to the great beyond, the afterlife. Each stone can only ever be used once to speak to the soul of someone long dead. A mother, father, sister, brother, lover...It's a form of communication of a sort, and the last stone to be reported seen was twenty thousand years ago in the northern continent, which is an entire mystery in itself.
"Wait, you're saying that the stone contains the actual soul that belongs to Hira's body?" Vladimir asks. I've noticed that he's the more studious of his group. Silent, but far more knowledgeable because of it, much unlike his friends.
"Yes, and now if you wouldn't mind Darius, I think it's about time this soul reunited with its family." She holds out the jewel to him. He stares blankly at the sapphire, his arms still crossed over his chest.
"Family?" Kathika asks, but she's ignored as Aracely grabs Darius's hand and places the stone in his hand.
He doesn't refuse after that, uncrossing his legs and standing up straight before encasing the jewel in blue flames. It lifts off his hands, and we watch as the stone slowly begins to melt, its now liquid form dripping onto the ground. My foot taps impatiently, wishing that the slow progress would hurry the fuck up and-
A scream tears through the room. We turn to find Hira on the ground clawing at her chest. She starts to actually tear her skin and Siscilla moves to help her, but Willa catches both her and Kat's arms before they can. Garrison moves next, and Nilsa and Mak use pressure points to stop him and get him on his knees. Willa's force field goes up, setting a border between all of us and Hira before anyone else can be stupid enough to touch her.
The Counselors taught us about soul stones after having learned that Xaxias carried them. Bleed on a red soul stone, and the demonic being then transfers from possessing one body to yours. Touch a body that is gaining its soul back, and that soul will end up taking your own body, and your soul becomes the one trapped within the jewel. If anyone touches Hira, then they'll lose their soul to the stone, and their body becomes Hira's. The process to get everything to its original state is long and a headache to remember, but I do remember death for all three souls being a part of it. All I do know is that we need to stay over here, and she needs to stay over there.
"What's happening to her?" Lance yells. He clutches Katarina tightly, the woman watching on with horror stricken eyes.
"The re-emerging is a painful process, but it'll be over the moment the jewel is entirely destroyed," the witch explains over Hira's cries.
Hira screams again as her body lifts off the ground, parallel to it until it begins righting itself to face us. The screaming stops sharply and I look over my shoulder to find the jewel nearly melted, and Darius's brow gleaming with sweat. I step closer to him, ready to catch him should he fall. Between yesterday and the burning away of the Raver's body and blood, he's draining too much.
Hira's body turns around slowly, her head is thrown back and her arms are thrown wide as she floats in the air. As the jewel reaches the last centimeter of its life, the roots of her hair begin to turn red, slowly dying the rest of her hair until it reaches the tips that grow longer in length. Her body mass fills in, riding of her malnourishment in seconds while her shoulders are still slim but gaining lean muscle. Her breasts fill in a little more, her waist still small as her hips widen slightly. Her skin doesn't change its shade but it does even out, her facial features becoming sharper and her lips fuller.
Her back turns to us before we can see the rest of her face, but then the jewel is gone and she's lowered back to her feet.
We all stand there in silence, all watching as Hira takes heavy breaths. The witch walks up to Willa's force field and motions for her lower it. She does, and the second it's down all ten of me and my sisters, as well as Willa, are stumbling a few steps back with the force of power that strikes our chests. Aracely rushes over to her, taking her head in between her hands and saying something that I can't hear.
Forty-two years.
It's been forty-two years since we last saw her. For forty-two years Willa and I have watched the sunset on the day of her death. The sunrise is for her sister and my family, but the sunset...the sunset was for her. She was the last bit of life in our world after all the madness, even if she, herself, wasn't shining as bright as she used to, she still managed to make us smile. The sun had set on our world the day she gave up her life to save all of ours.
Forty-two years...she's been here, in a stone for forty. Two. Years.
I don't need to see her face, not when I remember exactly what she looks like. The angle of her jawline, the warmth of her smile, the grey coloring of her iris, and how it would light up when she made something out of nothing. I remember the sound of her voice, the ring of her laughter, her tells and ticks, and how even though she was the oldest out of the ten of us, she still called Nilsa "big sis." She hates being called average because she always had the confidence to prove otherwise. She loves the smell of fresh rain. Her nails are never longer than her fingers because she'll chew on them when she's bored. The scar hidden in her hairline is from when she tried to balance on a ball and ended up falling and cutting her head on the edge of her cot at Camp Daleka.
Putting her hair into a tight knot or a ponytail gives her a headache, which is why she either leaves it down or twists it into braids or just votes for a simple half up, half down when she's too lazy to do much more. She's a pro a fucking lying, having trained her tells out of herself by looking in a mirror and training her brain to undo its own wiring. I know every person she slept with and which ones she had to fake it with. I could list every time she cried and every time she made a man cry for trying to go head-to-head with her. There's nothing I don't know about her. At least, there wasn't.
No one else here but us Thralians would know who she is, no one would be able to feel the strength beneath her skin, running along her bones. Still, it hurts to hear her name off of Willa's lips, hurts to hear Willa's own surprise and pain in her voice because I've had to hear only the latter for the past four decades. I used to feel peace having come to terms with her being gone, and now old wounds reopen, and I...I want them to go away. I can't do this again.
"Branka?"
The red-haired woman - I don't want to say her name until I know for sure that it's her - freezes at the name. Slowly, she starts turning her head to the side, her body slowly following suit. Willa sees her face first and crumbles beneath the weight of the reveal. She has the woman wrapped in her arms the next second, sobbing and mumbling about how she thought she was gone forever and kissing her cheeks and forehead with years worth of missing her. It isn't until the woman faces us that I see the face that's been in every one of my dreams since I watched her die.
Serephina is the first to move, wrapping her arms around Branka's neck and letting her own sobs be heard. The others slowly approach her as if they're afraid it is all a dream and they're going to wake up any minute. She embraces all of them, taking the punches she rightfully deserves with a melancholic smile. That, more than anything, hits me hard enough to get rid of the rest of the air in my lungs. I know that smile, know it better than she herself knows it. I grew up memorizing the planes of her face and learning to read every thought that ran through her head even when her face was carefully neutral. I would've thought it was a dream, that is, if she hadn't torn her eyes away from Mak who was giving her an earful of a scolding, and met my own.
My eyes burned with tears full of sadness when I saw her face as she turned around, but now...now I feel nothing short of anger. Anger for the things she's done, the hell she put me through. Anger for her father's actions even if they had nothing to do with her. Anger, anger, and more fucking anger. That's all I feel, and not a single part of my body is denying that the emotion is in the wrong place. I have every right to be angry, and I will not apologize for it.
"Hey, Ro." That voice...
"Hey? Ro?" She flinches at the lack of emotion in my voice, but not an ounce of regret stops me from the rant that's already tumbling down the fucking mountain of horseshit like a fucking several thousand-pound boulder. "Forty-two years of faking your death and the first thing you say to me is 'Hey, Ro?'"
"I'm sorry-"
My anger snaps. "No. No, you don't get to apologize. For forty-two years I've mourned your death. Forty-two years I've relived that day over, and over, and over again - and every single time I try and imagine any and every scenario where you don't get blown to ashes. Every time I go back and I see your face seconds before you disappear into the smoke and never return."
"Rohana-"
"Forty-two years and you were here!" My voice cracks and I have to fight to get it to steady again.
"Of all those months planning your death - and don't tell me it wasn't months, Branka, I know you better than that. Of all those months, you never once thought that maybe telling me - your best friend since I was ten and you were sixteen - or your mother, the person who raised you and was the only blood relative you had left, that you planned on risking your life? You didn't even think to leave some kind of note or something for us - for any of us - to understand as to why you would ever do such a thing? Ever? You knew from the start - from the very beginning - that we all vowed never to let one another fight alone, and never to go into a fight we couldn't win alone. We swore ourselves into each other's lives. We swore never to shut each other out. You broke that vow, Branka. You've been breaking it for forty-two years, trapped in a soul stone or not. And along with that, you broke us.
"As much they won't say it, you broke us. Serephina stopped dying her hair because there was no one left to tell her that it was cool. Vanya doesn't write her short stories anymore, Nilsa won't touch her old daggers, Mak refuses to turn into a black panther, Dee's gotten back into the habit of chewing her nails, Tanith can't sleep, Kathika now hates cats, and Tsil turned into a statue. She doesn't even smile as she used to, Branka! And I...Gods I am so fucked up it's not even a little bit funny!
"We were supposed to tell each other everything and anything. Eris in perpetuum esse meum semper. Or was that just another lie you made me ink on my back?" I stop when I hear my voice finally give out, taking a second to take a deep breath and look her in the eyes. I can tell - Gods years of never seeing her and yet I can still read her eyes like a fucking children's book - but I can tell that she's not sorry, she just regrets that she didn't do better. Meanwhile, I'm in so much pain and shock and fucking confused as shit that I can't even stop the words that come next.
"You were supposed to be better than your father."
"Rohana."
Willa steps in front of her not so dead anymore daughter, prepared to protect her even though she's been put through e-fucking-nough thanks to said same daughter. I ignore her, already seeing the blow hit Branka. I didn't want to play that card, but she hurt me. A lot. I lost my best friend forty-two years ago, and just as I'm beginning to heal from it, she comes along - perfectly alive and looking exactly the same way as the day she left - making me relive every moment from the second that explosion went off, through every day and every year of feeling the sting of her death, all to this moment right now.
I shake my head, tired. "I'm glad you're alive, don't get me wrong, I am."
"Ro-"
"But I just...I can't forgive you." I force myself to look back at her if only so she can see the little that's left of me. "One word, Branka," I say, my voice now nothing but a whisper. "That's all you had to say. One word to tell me that you were going to be okay, that it wasn't my fault that you..."
That it wasn't my fault that she died. That's why I'm so angry.
All these years in mourning I've been blaming myself for her death. All these years I've been hacking down on the rest of my sisters because I had already lost one and I didn't want to lose another. All these years of hitting heads with Willa because I wanted her to blame me for losing her daughter. I wanted her to yell at me and tell me that I didn't deserve to live while her corpse wasn't even rotting because there was no corpse. Years of turning myself into someone even I don't recognize, all so I would never feel this or anything like it again.
There was no body for us to burn and late Queen Lira to blow and nestle her ashes into Thralia's land itself. All we found after Xaxias used his experiment to level a small town we had been traveling through with the elementals and their children, were ashes. We assumed that hers were laying within the rubble. I suppose they weren't.
"You should get some rest," I tell her, sniffling and wiping my eyes to assess some kind of exposure in front of our clueless audience. "I'm sure you're tired after sitting on your ass in a stone for forty-two years."
I turn away and start walking out when her hand catches my wrist. The familiar tingle of her power reaching toward mine jolts up my arm and sends chills down my spine. I've missed that feeling, more than I can admit.
"Rohana."
I slip my arm out of her grasp before the one tingle turns into several, which then leads me to want to continue feeling the long lost warmth, which will lead me to cry harder and let her wrap her arms around me, and me wrapping my own around her too tightly because I'm afraid to lose her again.
Instead, I bite down on the tears trying to fall, and swallow the urge to let it all happen. "Leave me alone, Branka. You at least owe me that much."
She doesn't answer, just stands there with her arm still outstretched as if to grab me again. She doesn't, and I turn away once again, this time walking back through the crowd, avoiding all eye contact until I reach Darius who's still standing at the back of the room. Neither of us wants to be here right now, which is why I offer him my hand. I want to leave, I want to be as far away from her as possible, and I want a drink to make my head fuzzy and let my mind wander into empty bliss for one more night. I can see it in his eyes that it's what he wants to do too. He's got his own issues plaguing his mind and clouding his day. His eyes are more empty than mine, but there's no hiding how much he dislikes being over here. I don't know the reasons why, I just care that they're there and that they'll be enough for him to understand why I'm asking him to come along with me.
As much as I want to be away from Branka and Willa and my sisters - who have done nothing wrong, they just remind me of the things that have changed within our circle since Branka's "death," - I don't want to be alone. I've been alone mentally speaking for forty-two years now, and the one person who could fix that was dead as of five minutes ago. Darius is the next best thing, and he's better than nothing.
I watch as he looks at me, then over my shoulder to where Branka and the others are undoubtedly watching, and finally back to me. Whatever he sees in my eyes must be enough because he takes my hand. His skin is near freezing despite his fire ability, but it's more comforting than heat.
I know my sisters well enough to know that they'll try and follow us both physically and through the bonds that we share, so I push my mental shields over his own, blocking out Tanith and Willa. Then I temporarily cut off any other connections I have to them and keep them from connecting to him. A trick none of us have used since The Counselors taught us the ability.
"Rohana-"
We're gone before she can stop us, misting to a few places to grab supplies before going to the only place we can't be bothered.