Page 55 of Why Broken Wings Fray

“It takes most pixies many years to train against attacks of the mind. I have trained for decades. So yes, I can. But, oh–” Killian’s attention snapped, the two sides of it rebounding and nearly taking me out with the speed that he spun away from me.

“What is it?”

“Look,” his voice was smooth as his jaw hung, his eyes wider than ever as he glanced up the side of a building. I followed his line of sight only to find myself staring at the side of a stone-building, just like the past one-hundred that we walked by. But what was different about this one, what had Killian’s focus snared, was a mural on the side of it.

It was an eruption of purples and blues, blacks and pinks, accentuated with the long, lazy drags and peppering of white across the scene. It was an explosion of galactic proportions, a painting of the galaxy.

“Reultan,” he breathed.

It seemed cruel to try and tell him that he was staring at a poorly-painted version of the milky-way, so I let him stand in that bewilderment for a moment longer.

“Reultan?” I finally asked. I remembered a brief conversation about it on my last visit, a mention of a fifth kingdom of Saoghal that was not of the land, sea, nor sky, but of the stars.

Killian nodded several times. “Reultan was the strongest of our kingdoms. The most mighty, the most feared. The pixies that resided there… They were like us but they were not. There was something else about the pixies of Reultan – the Rionnag’Rugadh.”

I tugged at Killian’s shirt to urge him along, we were so close to the outlook that I wanted to sit down and possibly fall asleep within. Star-struck, he nodded and followed my lead.

“What happened to them?”

“No one knows. Most believe that they died, that some great war between them and another species wiped their kingdom completely.”

“And you?” I peered to my left, knowing full well that Killian was often like I was – hopelessly optimistic.

“I believe they still exist. I believe that they sit, watching us all. Watching our failures and our cruelness. I think that they are reminded, time and time again, that leaving Saoghal to its own destruction was the only way.”

My brows knitted as I contemplated that. Not so much what he was saying, but the fact that it was him saying it. It sounded far too similar to the type of things the Rachainn would say. But all thoughts of that and Saoghal slipped from my mind as we at last found the spot I wanted to sit at.

Along the sea-shore, high above the sea at the height of the hill, we walked up to the hedge of stone, adorned completely in the richest of green sprouting and grass atop it. Pausing there, I turned to motion for Killian to pause alongside me.

We, as one, looked off and away from Marazion, to the long pool of Mount’s Bay, and then to the ocean beyond. Blue took on a new meaning as it stretched for eternity, blending seamlessly against the budding horizon in the distance, comforted and cuddled by the whitest of clouds that formed at the conjunction.

The salt of the sea soared up the hillside, filling every pocket of air and forcing us to sigh as it slipped into us. The cries of seagulls echoed off of every stone as they launched from this coast to the next, wings of white and grey fluttering against the blue skies above. It was as if that blanket of grey that had been building over the top of Marazion was parting, just for us, just for right now, so that I could live in this moment.

I hopped up onto the ledge of the half-wall, giggling to myself as I lowered down and allowed my feet to dangle off of the edge. Killian followed me with that I’m-a-warrior ease that meant it was one swift movement that brought him to my side.

I passed him his Maple Sugar Candies, and I dug into my Cinnamon Danish.

“Look,” I said, pointing out to St. Michael’s Mount. “Choilltean.”

Killian narrowed his eyes as he looked past Mount’s Bay and to St. Michael’s Mount, to the pile of greenery smack in the center of the bay and the buzzing docks at the base of it. “It looks so… Small.”

I couldn’t help but to laugh as I nodded along. “Right there was where you found me.”

His smile softened from the normal overly-joyful state it was in and to something far more sincere that made my throat tighten. “I have lived through a great many things, but that day will forever be the best of them.”

The way I choked on my pastry was monstrous and unladylike in every way possible. Once I managed to lodge the tiny flake that was making me gag, I cleared my throat and dared to look at him. He met my gaze with one of his own, one that tunnelled deep into me and caused me to almost miss as he lifted his hand to my cheek and ran his thumb over the peak of it.

“I am not experienced in such things, so do tell me if I say or do something wrong, but…” Killian coughed, shaking his head slightly as he bore into me with an unfamiliar gaze. “I believe, Olivia Loughty, that I love you.”

The drop from the edge of the brick-wall was at least twenty feet and sure to break every bone in my body, so I was glad Killian grabbed my shoulder before I suddenly found myself falling off of the edge.

Killian loved me?

Our short time with one another was not meek in its feelings or the heavy emotions that came with it, but he loved me? Was that what this feeling was in my chest when he was around? This warmth and this comfort?

I wasn’t sure that I had ever been in love, but I had to admit – I thought it would feel… Different. Powerful and intense, heart-shattering and head-pounding. The poets spoke of a painful type of happiness, one that doused out a fair share of both joy and heartbreak. The artists drew and danced and sang pieces that suggested it was all-consuming and axis-rotating. I thought that being around the person one loved was more than just comfort and warmth but like a flame, unruly and unpredictable, heating your very bones and burning a path straight to your soul.

I liked Killian. He was like a large hug, encasing me in a certain type of familiarity that I enjoyed. I wanted to nuzzle into him, most days, to sit in that ring of safety not just from the world but from myself, because being with him took away the loneliness and replaced it with companionship.