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.”
The simplicity of the answer hangs like an apple ready to fall from its tree. Olena pauses, and a feeling of uncertainty takes hold deep in my gut, a slight twisting. Yet she has never given any reason to not trust her; a single ray of hope tries desperately to breach the forest canopy.
“Does Helia know?”
“Yes.” Simple answer, same feeling, same twisting. Olena looks at me through fresh eyes, a veil pulled free. Mere moments pass, several heartbeats, an eon.
“I guess that makes us sisters then, doesn’t it?
” The twisting shatters, the ray of hope bathes my core, tears coming unbidden to my eyes.
Olena drapes her hand on mine, familial and caring.
“Do any others know?” I shake my head; this was terrifying enough.
“I understand. I will stay silent, until you tell me otherwise. Though, for what it’s worth, they would all accept you.
I’m not sure how things were in Athos, but across most of Thetan, this isn’t so rare. ”
“I don’t know how to thank you Olena, my sister.
” Her grin warms my heart as we fade into silence once again, a fleeting peace in our violent lives.
Olena looks out toward the park pensively before turning back to me.
“Skion is a masculine name. Have you thought of a new one?” I blink several times, the question catching me off guard.
“I’ve thought about it here and there. Helia mentioned it too. I think I have a favorite, but I want to make sure.”
Olena fishes a few coins from her purse, dropping them on the edge of the table as we finish our plates, still taking time with our wine.
“Oh? I can’t wait to hear it!”
At that moment, the server comes over, sliding the coins expertly off the table. Our conversation shuts down, waiting for her to leave except she lingers, brushing her hair behind her ear yet again, a slight rosy color tinging her cheeks. She turns to me and smiles endearingly.
“You’re new here.” A statement, not a question. “Are you staying in the capital long?” I open my mouth to reply, attempting to cut off Olena’s inevitable snarky reply when a firm hand clasps my shoulder.
“Not too long. But they are taken.” Helia’s voice calms the surge of adrenaline her hand caused, even if the edge of her tone could slice a mountain. Her frame casts a shadow along the table and the server bows before quickly making her escape. But not before casting a forlorn look in my direction.
“You’re in trouble noooow,” Olena chides, shrinking quickly under the look from Helia. “Aaaand with that, I will see you later sister.” Nodding to me and saluting the commander, Olena scurries off before she receives a reprimand.
Eyebrow cocked, Helia slides onto the bench replacing Olena. “Sister?” Helia peers into the cup Olena left hoping for some dregs of wine leftover. Disappointed with what she sees, Helia pushes it away and leans her arm on the table.
“Ah, yes. Before the attack yesterday I made a comment when we were out shopping. We passed some dresses that caught my eye. She’s got a good memory given the events of the night.” I swirl the remnants of my cup before offering it to Helia, who takes it enthusiastically.
“Indeed. You could do worse for a spear sister.” Helia seems distant, almost uneasy.
She casts her gaze around, taking in the beauty of the day.
She stands abruptly, holding out a hand in my direction.
“What do you say to a little walk? We won’t be here long and it’s too nice out to waste.
” I smile and join her, seeing the server peering out from the doorway.
I wrap my arm around Helia’s waist possessively, pulling her close and leaving no room for misinterpretation.
“Oh!” Helia slightly surprised, lays her hand on my shoulder as we exit the taverna, blades on our hips, arms around each other. Companions, friends, and more.
The walk through the circular park is empty of words, yet full of life nonetheless.
Birds sing across the path to each other and the fountains splash, creating a world none would ever leave willingly.
The earlier breeze stays with us as we walk, the bushes and trees rustling in its wake.
We make our way to a bench flanked by two statues.
One a soldier, spear in hand and shield poised in the other, his posture grand and imposing.
The second statue a woman clad in a simple tunic, yet adorned with a laurel around her head; a politician or ruler of sorts but one of common birth.
Olive trees surround the statues and bench, providing a layer of privacy in the otherwise open park.
I stay silent, soaking in the beauty, while eying Helia and waiting for her to reveal the source of her unease, her uncharacteristic uncertainty.
Two old men shuffle by, nodding as they pass.
After they depart, Helia blows out a heavy sigh, hopefully ready to share her burden.
She leans forward, hands clasped together, looking outward and avoiding my gaze.