Page 29 of Fate

“I’m safe now thanks to you.” Helia gives me a wan smile, grateful for the support but still mired in her anger. “How did you know I was in trouble or even where I was?”

Helia blushes, the storm clouds blown to the side for the time being. “Ah. Well, like I said, Lunos gave me some abilities. One of those is to know where you are if your life is in danger. Your mark and all.”

My eyes narrow at that. “Just when my life is in danger?”

Helia nods furiously, the motion at odds with her usual nature. “Yeah, it would be weird otherwise. I’m no stalker.” We both chuckle as Helia stands and hands me a new tunic. I suppose my old one is soiled with blood.

“Here. We’ll be in Hecalon for a bit longer. Next time, go with others and be armed.”

I move to get up, realizing for the first time that under the furs I am fully naked. Heat immediately shows on my face, understanding that Helia must have undressed me herself. Not knowing if I am more embarrassed or excited only makes things worse.

“Uh, can you turn around for a moment?”

A halfhearted smirk softens Helia’s face, before turning around allowing me to get ready.

“Okay! You can turn back around.” Helia turns and fakes a pout, her strong lips pursing at the loss of seeing me naked. I stick my tongue out, playing into the joke; we both know what would happen if circumstances were a little different. “I’m going to check on Olena, but at risk of killing the moment, how long are we staying here? I wasn’t expecting an attack so soon.”

“Already ahead of you Skion. There should be a temple to Lunos here and I’m going to arrange to meet the priests. Our final destination is Askepollo and based on what Lunos put in my memory, I may need their help.”

I nod silently. I suppose it’s important, but I’m not quite sure what to think of Lunos still. Helia has been anything but expected. I wonder what the priests will be like?

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

“OLENA! YOU’RE OKAY, thank the gods.” I wrap bandaged arms around her as I find her in the main barracks on the estate.

“Easy there! I’m wounded you know. Knife in the side, almost died; might be able to pick up some lucky person tonight with my sob story.” Humor and joy lace her words, just as happy to see me as I am her. We separate and quickly inspect each other, her eyes darting around my arms and the bandage on my cheek knowing I will earn a scar for my efforts. A simple bandage wraps around her bare midriff with a hint of pink, tunic rolled up to her breasts.

“I’ll heal plenty fine. Helia was thankfully nearby and she grabbed us both.” I nod at her words, not trusting myself to reply. There was too much going on, too much I didn’t understand to bring Olena fully into it. Not yet anyway. “You okay Skion?” My smile doesn’t reach my eyes, causing her to squint.

“I’m sure you must be hungry. There’s a taverna nearby that serves a wonderful yogurt, olive, and flatbread. It’s my treat for you saving my pay.” My stomach growls, despite the earlier breakfast with Helia. Tapping into my power drains my energy and it seems like food is the best way to recover. I stop at that; is it actually my power? I mull on my own thoughts as we grab our blades before heading out.

Olena was right; it is a short walk to the taverna. Situated at the edge of the estates and central park, it’s a perfect location with several outdoor benches taking advantage of the view and slow, cooling breeze drifting through the air.

Olena orders for us and brings over two cups of wine while we wait. Water pebbles the outside of the cups. Cold wine? One sip and I completely understand; it’s refreshing and less tart than the wine back in Ionos. Perfect for this kind of day. We sit in silence, taking in life around us. The other patrons create a low buzz of chatter and humanity, an idyllic oasis from the night before.

“Do you want to talk?” Olena finally asks. Her question lingers in the breeze, a soft kindness between friends. Three months is not a long time to get to know someone, but when you stand back to back the way we have, time tends to matter less. I watch as a bird alights on the stone half-wall at the edge of the patio. A striking light blue streak runs from its beak down to the tail feathers, surrounded by black. It catches me gazing at it and it tilts it head from side to side, as if trying to puzzle me out.

“I…don’t know. There’s too much I don’t understand, too many secrets. It’s all overwhelming.” Lunos, my power, Solon trying to kill me, my village getting destroyed, coming to terms with my identity, Helia…

I share with Olena bits and pieces. Nothing about Helia being an Aspect nor me being a Conduit, but enough. I even skirt talking about myself, though I’m sure that will come up at some point.

Olena, to her credit, just listens and sips her wine until a server swings by and drops off our flatbreads, yogurt, and assorted olives. The server gives a few glances at me, brown eyes glancing across my bandages before flicking upward to meet my gaze. She blushes and pushes a loose lock of blonde hair behind her ear.

“Can I get you folks anything else?” Her voice is a bubbling brook, a gentle stream in a forest of pine. Olena smirks out of the corner of my eye as she takes a long pull from her cup. Grinning, I lean forward and gesture toward my compatriot.

“My friend here could use another cup.” Olena coughs and chokes on her wine, my grin broader than the sky. The server smiles and swiftly disappears, casting a sultry glance my way as she effortlessly floats away from our bench.

“That was unkind,” Olena sputters, humor betraying her words as I stick my tongue out in jest. If but for a moment, the weight of the world lifts, a sliver in the descending storm clouds. We share a chuckle and dive into our meal. The yogurt is soft and creamy, the olives sharp and tangy.

“See? Told you this place was perfect.” Olena waggles a yogurt covered flatbread to emphasize her point.

I give a grunt of satisfied bliss as I take another bite of the divine spread in front of me. The server swings by before Olena can jest, bringing us each a new cup of wine, which only serves to widen the smirk to Olena’s face. We watch her retreat to another table, purposefully staying in our vision.

“Can I ask you a question, my friend?” The tone of her voice betrays Olena’s uncertainty. I gesture her onwards with a wave of flatbread. “You said yesterday that you weren’t thinking of that dress for the commander, that it was for you. What exactly did you mean?”

I reach for my cup and take a slow, deliberate sip before meeting her gaze head on.

“I’m not a man.”