Cold.
Confused.
I’ve been out of it for days, apparently, only regaining full consciousness now, the day we’re due to make it to Estereah.
It feels wrong. Everything feels wrong. And the tension in the small cabin only serves to keep my frayed nerves scattered.
Ten’s grief is written over his body, the drop of his head, and the smile that he’s trying to show for me, but I know him better than that.
“We’ll be arriving soon. Come on.” Kalan leads us from the boat into a quiet village port, where a few people are working, hauling catches and loading supplies. It’s no market town. “Where are we?” I’ve barely conquered my dizziness, so I’m pleased to be leaving the ship, and hopefully never returning to where we’ve run from.
“South of Estertor. Not so many questions here. Nestergarth is busy—too many people watching.” Kalan nods to Ten, before he strides off, disappearing behind the building running alongside the small harbour.
I can sense Ten’s anxiety vibrating around him like a shimmer in the sun. But as I raise my eyes to his, blood, blades, and dirt all race to cloud my vision, and flashes, heat, and light invade as the memories assault me. I turn away before more take over, and my eyes find quiet on the crystal blue waters.
These visions remind me of what it was like before—before Kirrasia.
When I thought I was going mad.
My fingers curl my hand into a fist, keeping my mother’s ring firmly in place. It’s warm now, like whatever happened at that camp—whatever I did—awakened a part of it.
There’s no pendant at my throat.
No more Fenix.
And Crimson lost her life.
Guilt and sorrow kick me in the gut as I try to wrap my mind around it all. Crimson, the girl I was envious of, who I never really liked, and who certainly didn’t like me. Yet, she cared forTen enough to help him, go to battle with him, and she gave her life for us all.
“Don’t. Don’t pull away from me.” Ten’s voice sounds loudly in my head, ringing around as I try to find something to give me direction.
“I’m not. I’m confused. I can’t…” My head pounds, each thud threatening to split my skull, each hammer blow beating in time with my heart. I draw a deep breath as if that might ease the throbbing.
Tired.
Drained.
Empty.
Being out of it for days hasn’t helped. I feel like a shell, an empty vessel compared to that night.
There’s been no real time to talk, other than explaining the obvious. Kalan’s barely spoken to me, and, really, Ten hasn’t said anything beyond answering the direct questions I’ve asked. The burden of their time in Nehandun at the hands of Fenix is still so fresh and heavy that it’s drowned everyone’s spirits. Time. That’s what we all need to recover and heal, and it’s nothing more permanent. At least that’s what I hope.
Because there’s a huge part of my memory that I can’t fill in, and every time I replay the moments I do remember over in my mind, it feels like I’m about to set off an avalanche inside of me, strong enough to bury everything I am.
A deep sense of foreboding uncoils around that space in time. I know it. But the answers as to why are still as blank as ever.
“What happened to me?” I ask him again, even though we’ve already been over this.
“We don’t know. That isn’t a lie. I’ll never lie to you,” Ten reminds me.
On one level, I know that. He’s shown me time and time again that he’s here for me. Despite the short time we’ve knowneach other, what we have been through and endured together equates to more than the simple passage of time.
But with no power and no magic, my very foundation feels cracked—wedged open and vulnerable. And that includes where Ten and I go from here.
I can’t feel him. I can’t sense him. I can’t talk to him through our connection because that no longer exists. When I touch him, everything that was between us has now vanished, and it strikes a new fear in me.
“I spoke to Kalan, gave him the message to get you out—” I start to recount my own memories of the night. “Went to bed but didn’t sleep. I escaped the tent using magic. And I found Fenix. And that’s it.” I repeat the events as if they are breadcrumbs in my mind showing me the way to something. Only it’s just out of my reach and turns to smoke and shadow in my mind as I grasp for it.
