Page 57 of Ashen Wings

“Gods, I shouldn’t have brought you with me…” Thaye shifts close enough that the warmth of her presence melts the frost coating my cheeks.

“No, I’m glad you did. If I can provide them the comfort I never received…” The words wrap their claws around my throat and tighten.

“Are you sure? I understand if this is too difficult. There are plenty of other chores to be done today.” Her concern draws a cramp in my already aching side.

“I’m fine. I promise,” I whisper, but there’s a high pitched ringing in my ears that suggests otherwise.

In truth, I’m barely clinging on by a thread. My heart thuds in my throat and I’m glazed in a sweat that refuses to break. How can I run away now, though? Thaye and I are the first kind faces these refugees see when they step off the gangway. Total uncertainty lingers like an impasse before them, and I’m supposed to what—drift back to plush linens and fresh pastries like none of this touches me anymore? What would that make me? A survivor or a coward?

Fuck. My clothes scrape against my skin too tightly, and my hands refuse to steady, but I swallow my own selfish needs and focus.

The last child in line, a blonde girl no older than twelve, shivers in the blistering breeze. Her eyes shine with something like defiance.

Gods, she could be me with that little snarl and rage-fueled expression. Her fury is a mirror to my own, a reflection of the anger I’ve carried my whole life, taut and volatile like the snapping lines on the pier behind us.

My heart clenches, and for a moment, I hover over her fingers, remembering a younger version of myself—smaller, angry, and afraid. Her tear-streaked face, smudged with grime, is both terrified and hungry. Just as mine was. Her blonde hair is matted and greasy. Just like mine.

My lungs retract before I allow myself a breath.

“Take this,” I whisper, placing my last shard into her hand. “It’s nowhere near enough, but it’s something.”

“I don’t want it,” she bites.

“What?” My shoulders tense. The sky darkens further and a low hum whistles between buildings, like the storm god himself breathes judgement down on me. “Please, you can offer it at the Motherwood. Obdiris will bless you.”

“Fuck his blessing, and fuck you,” she seethes, canines drawn into a snarl. “Obdiris can’t bring my family back or heal these scars on my back, can he?” My lips thin and she shakes her head in response. “That’s what I thought.”

“Look, I know how you’re feeling right now. You’re angry, and have every right to be, but let the priestesses help you. They can’t erase what you’ve been through, but they can give you a new life.” I take a knee beside her and lock on to her vibrant gaze.

“You know nothing about me. I don’t want a new life,” she says, lips trembling. “I just want them back.”

Fuck, I can’t breathe, can’t look her in the eye. How do I tell her this rage she feels now will never cease? Or that the scars she wears on her back will be a constant reminder of everything stolen? It’ll be okay. You’ll learn to live with the pain. You’ll be happy again. None of these comforts are grounded in truth. I swallow the hot bile on my tongue and reach for her palm.

“Nothing I can say or do will make this okay,” I whisper. “But I promise you, a life in the temple is far better than anything in Smoke, okay?”

She wipes the tears streaking her cheeks. “Fine.”

I fold her fingers over the dragonstone and guide her to other refugees.

She’ll be okay, I tell myself, but I know it’s a lie. The truth is salted and wet with rain. None of these people will, because the damage has already been done. The trauma, the grief, is as permanent as the scars…just as mine is. I rise from my feet, stiff and controlled, and stand beside Thaye.

“Are you alright, Nova?” She scans my features.

“Yes,” I murmur, but it’s nowhere near convincing. The blonde girl wraps her overcoat tighter and disappears through a break in the group. I watch her golden little head until I no longer see it, then flick my eyes to the ground.

“Why don’t you take the afternoon and we’ll regroup tomorrow morning?” Thaye offers me a sad, understanding smile.

“I’m fine,” I say.

“Nova…” Her ice blue eyes rally with mine. “You don’t have to be.”

“I said I’m fine. I need to help them, okay? Please, just let me help.”

She grows silent for a moment but nods her head. “Okay. Let’s get them checked into medical, then.”

Once we’ve led the group back up to the temple, I search for the girl once more. My heart lurches when her little eyes lock on mine, terrified and angry.

The world stops spinning, and the overcast skies crack. Thaye catches my wavering balance before I fall.