She knew more than she let on, and she hid it badly. After tonight, he was worried what her knowledge meant for him or everyone else.
I wasn't supposed to die, but it was the only way. Death doesn't mean to me what it means to you. It's not final. I’ve ripped my soul from my body, but that only means an end for humans. You might think of it as sleeping, if that makes it easier to comprehend. After all, here we are.
Here you are, hearing me out.
Chapter 21
840
To think he’d tell Doran about Hjeva… 840 had barely said anything, but it was more than he’d told anyone in years. The people in the village would have bled him for muttering the word, but Doran wanted to know. Doran wouldn’t punish him for it either.
His heart was still racing. Breaking the rules was exciting. They were his memories; perhaps trying to reclaim some of them wouldn’t be so bad.
But most surprising of all had been Naavah Ora fighting the spirits. She had tried to open a portal into the spirit realm, and that was why the spirits had got through and attacked her. For all her denying it, they weren’t that different. His people worshipped a god who demanded a sacrifice each year to ensure a bountiful harvest. They’d meant to sacrifice him to give his Lord renewed strength. Naavah Ora had been repulsed that the Elders in his village sacrificed people, that his Lord demanded death, but she’d been willing to open a portal into the spirit realm itself. The two weren’t so different.
Either way, they were surrounded by death.
This Ithrean didn’t sound that different to his Lord, either.
He blinked at the stars. That wasn’t true. There was a huge difference; Naavah Ora’s Ithrean didn’t sacrifice anyone. He didn’t know if her gods could co-exist with his or how many there were all beliefs considered, but he knew sacrifice was wrong. Ithrean didn’t ask for any blood or pain while his own Lord did.
840 took a deep shaky breath. The thought had always been there, at the back of his mind, but he’d never thought it clearly. Sacrifice was wrong. He wouldn’t have dared to think it before, but Doran agreed and so did Naavah Ora.
He had no idea if his Lord had sent him on this journey to grow as a warrior or not, but he didn’t think his Lord would put such thoughts into his head. Unless his resolve and loyalty were being tested.
Maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe all that did was the light of the stars above him, and the two people who didn’t want to hurt him sharing the same fire as he. Doran and Naavah Ora were talking about him, but he didn’t want to listen. The stars reminded him of Hjeva, and he was trying to allow it. His memories belonged to him and only him, and he didn’t care if it was wrong to want them. For one night, he would indulge.
There had been a girl in Hjeva, close to his age. The daughter of a family friend. One night, he’d overheard their parents talk, and he had pressed his ears to the door to hear better. His parents had discussed his future for him, with her parents—what was her name again?—and had agreed that he and… and… Ivy would make a good match. He’d liked her but he didn’t want to marry her. He’d turned around to go to bed and hopefully wake up to find it had been a dream, but Ivy had been there behind him, and had smiled that shy smile of hers.
“We’ll be like our parents when we grow up. Mama is teaching me to cook. I’ll make a great wife.”
They’d been four years old. He hadn’t been interested in a wife, or a girlfriend. He wanted to watch the sorcerer’s lights and collect pebbles at the beach. Now he thought about it, his parents had likely been joking but Ivy, in her childish naivety, had taken it very seriously.
Ivy had walked closer and leaned in, her lips pursed. He had quickly ducked away and hidden under his bedcovers. His Mama had said once his first kiss should be special, whatever that meant. She had said too that his first time should be special, and he hadn’t understood that part either, but he’d nodded and agreed.
He understood what she’d meant now. The female sacrifice had looked forward to it, but had that been special? He doubted that was how it was meant to be.
His hands felt around on the ground until one closed around a cool, smooth rock. It wasn’t a beach pebble, but for now it would do.
I really do appreciate the kindness; I doubt my own siblings would be as kind today.
After all, my actions have hurt them too.
Chapter 22
Naavah Ora
Naavah Ora hated how uncomfortable the rest of their journey was, but reaching her sister clan in Z’rasie was vital now. She couldn’t talk to Doran, not after what he’d said. She had enjoyed talking to him, but her duty came first. Always.
Ceallach an Eòlas.
She couldn’t believe they shared a bit of history.
Their silence had got easier once Doran had accepted she wasn’t going to talk. She hadn’t expected to be the one to break that silence.
“What is that?”
Doran grinned like a proud father. “Alt Võina!” He sighed. “Beautiful, isn’t she?”
Naavah Ora gulped. “It’s huge.”
She couldn’t see most of it. They were still a little distance away, the city had just come into view. A wall surrounded everything like a prison, and towers taller than the wall reached above it. The scale of it was incredible. It looked like a trap for the poor and a playground for the wealthy. A hub of crime. This was nothing like her home, where everyone knew each other.
Naavah Ora had never wanted to go anywhere less.
840 had paled, but his eyes were determined.
Valynaan grant me courage.
“We’re almost there,” Doran said. “Another two hours, maybe, and you can be on your way.”
She nodded, not trusting her voice. This was what she’d wanted, but she wasn’t in a rush. Now she’d had a glimpse of being alone in that maze, it seemed like a terrible idea.
She swallowed past her fear and walked ahead of Doran.
“Let’s not waste more time then.”
They couldn’t see how terrified she was. She had to be stronger than her fear.
The next hour and a half passed too quickly. Every step toward the inevitable increased her dread.
Alt Võina was even worse than she’d pictured. She’d heard stories of large cities where people lived in tight spaces, where the crime rate was high and where people were everywhere, but she hadn’t believed it would be this crowded.
It reminded her of the time she’d entered the spirit realm by accident. Her training was supposed to start when she turned ten years old, but she’d already heard so much about this other world that she’d gone to the clearing where her lessons would take place. No one had minded since she’d been too young to open the gateway herself, and her grandmother had believed her getting used to the environment was a good thing.
She had sat beneath the trees and had dreamed of the moment she would step through for the first time. Spirits would be everywhere, the grass would be red, and a breeze she couldn’t see—only feel—would caress her skin as gently as her mother did. She had wanted to see it more than she’d wanted her mother to return from their sister clan in the South, but she’d still panicked when the mists had begun to swirl around her ankles, then her legs, her wrists, and finally the whole clearing, and had pulled her through. Her parents and grandmother wouldn’t be happy with her. Impressed, maybe, but not happy. After all, she’d only been seven years old and her formal training was still three years away.