Page 33 of Forged in Fading

Alvara shook her head. Her eyes darted to every spot in the room but Kat’s face. “I’m so sorry. I’ve never…hurt someone like that. I didn’t mean to. Not that it matters. I…since losing my father, my family, I’m a mess.” The apology came out just about as eloquently as Alvara had expected.

Kat ripped off a chunk of the roll with her teeth. “I know. That’s why I couldn’t blame you. I tried to convince them to let one of the cuts scar, but they wouldn’t.” She sighed wistfully. “I’ve always wanted one, but when you grow up near healers, they refuse. Unfair, really. I mean, what you did hurt almost as badly as the first time I shifted, but I knew it wasn’t really you that did it. I don’t know if I’ve actually met the real Alvara yet.”

Alvara wasn’t sure if she had either. “I’ve finally got my magic somewhat under control. But if there’s anything I can do to make it up to you…”

“Stay. Please.”

“You really want me to stay?”

The light in Kat’s eyes dimmed. “Eloisa would want you to be happy. She would want you to help us, but most of all, help yourself. She talked about you all the time, and it killed her to keep things from you, but the most important thing to her was keeping you safe. All of you.”

Her words carved themselves into Alvara’s skin like a permanent inscription on a blade. She wasn’t ready for this conversation, not today. “You and Ravanel seem…close.” Quite the understatement for the elf who had been more than ready to celebrate Alvara’s funeral that day.

Kat shifted her legs under the covers, and a light blush settled into her cheeks. “I’ve known him a long time. He can be silent and brooding, but when you get to know him, you realize just how deeply he cares. We’re just friends.”

A snort sounded behind Alvara, and she turned to find Boden leaning against the doorframe. “If you and Rav are just friends, then Alvara and I are seluris and madly in love.”

Vitharen help me. “I’m going to politely decline that offer.”

Kat wiggled her nose at him. “Nothing has ever happened between us and never will. You know that better than anyone.”

Her statement sounded heavy, loaded with a meaning Alvara didn’t understand, and if she wanted to keep her ability to breathe around Ravanel, she probably should never attempt to. Instead, she stood and moved toward the door. “I should head to the forge.”

“Not quite yet,” Boden said. “We have a meeting I’d like you to be a part of. Follow me.”

“Now I’m missing out on secret meetings? You’d better come back here and tell me everything that happens,” Kat called after them.

“Even better, I’ll send Rav.” A hunk of bread bounced off Boden’s head, and he picked up his pace, heading away from the healers’ quarters down an unfamiliar path lined with leafless trees and unlit streetlamps. “How are you settling in?”

“Fine.”

“Quite the conversationalist, aren’t you?” They headed toward a smaller building, unadorned like most of the city, with the exception of the mighty set of doors that bore the Malvan crest: a tree with mostly empty branches, except for a few delicate leaves. Its roots transformed at the bottom into rushing, swirling wind.

Boden came to walk beside her, and she could feel the weight of his gaze on her, even as she focused on the building ahead of them. “How are you, Alvara? Give me one real answer, and I promise you won’t have to see me for at least a week after today.”

Truthfully, she hadn’t allowed herself time to consider how she was really doing. Keeping herself busy with training, the forge, falling into bed in an exhausted heap each night, it all kept her out of her hiding hole, as he had so lovingly called it. Even her sleep, which had deteriorated further after her father’s passing, had been somewhat better. At least she didn’t remember every nightmare.

“It feels good to work toward something. It’s easier to think about than my family.” She forced out the next words she owed him but would rather keep to herself. “Thank you for helping me. With everything.”

Boden paused at the building’s entrance, his head bowed and voice soft. “I know what it is to be broken, Alvara. To have who you are at your very core torn from the fabric of your soul. You can either let the darkness devour you or find a way to welcome it as an old friend. I’ve been well acquainted with it for quite some time. Look how well I turned out.” He swept one of the doors open with a wink, and Alvara rolled her eyes, though her throat had run dry. Maybe they were more alike than she would ever care to admit.

Inside the building sat nothing but an arrangement of chairs and a large wooden table at the center, flanked by a group of ten or so elves entrenched in various arguments Alvara couldn’t make out. The door groaned shut, and everyone turned toward them, falling into silence.

“Nice of you to join us,” an elf with gray-streaked charcoal black hair said, his spectacles perched precariously on the edge of his nose.

Alvara moved to hide somewhere in the back, but Boden ushered her to the center of the room. The very last place she wanted to be. “I had other things to attend to, Your Majesty,” he said and bowed his head.

Your Majesty? The elf certainly didn’t look royal—he wore a plain, dark gray tunic and black pants, along with a pair of leather boots that looked about three steps away from falling apart. And no one other than Boden paid him extra attention.

“I prefer Ulivar,” the Malvan king said. “Extravagant titles have never flattered me.” He tapped a spot on a map sprawled across the table. “Aurilena, please continue.”

Aurilena’s eyes found Alvara’s, and her murderous gaze nailed Alvara’s feet to the ground. Apparently, she felt as kindly about Kat’s injuries as Ravanel did, and rightfully so. “King Einar is forging an alliance with the Nyrian and Valonian kingdoms. I’ve only been able to illusion my way into a few meetings, but many more have taken place between the different council members. Valo has been prejudiced against humans and demi-elves since the loss of the previous king. They had no issue finding common ground with Ela. Nyr became convinced of the threat after the orchestrated human attacks.”

“But why the alliances? What is his goal?” another elf said, shaking his head. “The barrier in other realms against our magic has proved impenetrable for two centuries. Without elven powers at his disposal, King Einar wouldn’t be capable of overcoming the humans. Not with their significant numbers compared to his forces.”

Boden studied the map, where red X’s marked attacks in Alvara’s home kingdom. Frost started to form on her fingertips. Her home. Her people. There weren’t many human attacks, but what if they got worse?

“Is Dalvi aligned with King Einar in his hatred of humans?” He looked pointedly down at her ice-tipped fingers, a command to control her power.