I chew my lip. I don’t like this. But what is there left to try?
“It will be alright,” he adds quietly. “If it’s not the arm, I’ll put it back together. And if it is, I’ll help you figure it out.”
“How do you do this?” I ask. “Take on everybody’s weight and not break beneath it?”
“I don’t take it on alone,” Roiven answers.
We move over, away from where I was sick. Roiven walks down the shore and dampens his hand with saltwater. I sit, and Roiven sits facing me, our knees touching. He takes my metal arm.
“Ready?”
“No. Do it anyways.”
His eyes meet mine for a moment. Roiven nods.
He draws a line of saltwater down my metal arm with his finger. I shudder. Power blisters where he touches and the metal eases open like a door on a hinge. I can’t watch it happen. I turn my head away, teeth gritted tight, and wonder what will be left of me.
I hear the clank of metal as Roiven sets the pieces down next to us, on the black sand beach.
“Do I have an arm?” My voice sounds thin, fragile.
“Yes.”
I look down and feel my stomach revolt all over again. But I don’t let myself be sick. I close my eyes and drag a breath through my nose, then another, until I’ve steadied myself. Then, slowly, I open my eyes and look again.
My right arm is pale, thin, the bones visible through the skin. It’s been leeched. The enchantment has fed on it for years and now only this is left. I try to curl my fingers, a movement that should come naturally after years of commanding my enchanted arm just like it’s my own flesh. But the fingers of my right hand don’t respond at all, not even the smallest sign of life. Beside me, my armor lays in two halves, like a skin that I’ve shedded.
“I'm useless now,” I mumble.
Roiven grabs my chin and forces me to look at him. His eyes burn ferociously.
“Never say that. It isn’t true.”
“I’m right handed. And I can’t even make it move.” Tears gather in my eyes. He doesn’t let go of my chin.
“You have other strengths.”
“It's myarm.I want my arm.”
“It might heal,” Roiven says stubbornly. “And… if it doesn’t, Torain can make you a new one, in whatever material you like. With an enchantment that is powered by your familiar bond, instead of one that drains your life.”
My familiar bond. I turn my head away from his grip to look at the sea. He lets go and then follows my gaze. I gulp and slowly stand, my legs shaking from exhaustion.
For the first time in memory, I’m not afraid.
I look at the sea. It glitters in the morning light, peach and pink and gold that beats the splendor of the sky. The waves must break further out, beyond the cove, because by the time they reach this shore they only lap softly over the sand before rolling back.
The sea is vast. The sea is deep.
The sea is gods-damned fuckingbeautiful.
“Cai?” Roiven asks. My throat tightens. He was right. The armor that saved my arm has been poisoning me the whole time, making me afraid of who I am, afraid of where I came from. If none of this had happened, I’d have gone on hating everything about who I really am. I curl my left hand into a fist as tears track down my cheeks.
“Are there reapers here?” I ask. My voice is hoarse. I take a step toward the ocean, and then another one.
“No. It’s a rock shelf. The water’s safe.” I barely hear Roiven’s voice. I’d probably go in even if there was real danger here.
The water washes over my boots, over my ankles. It’s cold and salty and I can feel the power running through it. I walk further, until the water swells around my calves, then my knees.
