Chapter 3 #2
“It’s nice to meet you all.” Azahara didn’t mean to lie; she had nothing against any of them, but personalizing herself to them felt wrong. Building a relationship with any one of them felt like a betrayal to Kaed, Illyan, and Zhal.
Zephyra rolled her eyes and turned from the group.
An unsteady breath escaped Azahara’s lips as she dropped her gaze.
“Are you free to chat further about the journey, Aza?” It was Alyse, her hand coming to rest at Azahara’s elbow. The touch sent a strange, painful feeling through her body.
She jerked away so quickly that Alyse was left stumbling back, slipping on the edge of the stairs. Azahara, with speed she had only seen on the battlefield with Thall, was behind her before she could slam her head against the railing.
The crew that had stayed stared at her, and she pushed Alyse quickly back to her feet. “I’m sorry, I—” She chewed on her lip, swallowing hard. She hated that she apologized instinctively. They had no idea what she had been through, and jerking away from Alyse was a reaction brought out of pain.
“It’s fine; I’m very touchy-feely, but you wouldn’t know that.” There was a pained expression on Alyse’s face, and immediately, Azahara felt a tinge of guilt rip through her stomach. “I’m sorry—I should know better.”
Azahara didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she gently placed her hand on the elbow that Alyse had grabbed. It was the very spot that Kaed used to touch first whenever he rushed to her, assuring her safety. It was such a simple yet meaningful action, something he always did.
After an awkward silence, she finally said, “I have time to talk.”
Alyse didn’t push the discussion further, and she led her towards the front of the ship. They passed what Azahara would assume was Alyse’s quarters and made their way to the open area that looked out at sea. The ship was beautiful, but something about the open water took her attention from it.
In toe to them was Rowlin, who hovered close to her, but thankfully never touched her.
Alyse sat on a barrel, and Rowlin stood closest to her while Azahara was across from them. Her back was now against the railing, one leg crossed over the other.
“Are you familiar with the route to Ilkiz, Aza?” Alyse jumped into the conversation.
“No, just that it is tricky,” Azahara crossed one leg over the other and watched as Alyse did the same, sitting now with her legs intertwined like a pretzel.
“Indeed, that’s precisely why no soul has ventured to or from Ilkiz in thousands of years, not since the conclusion of the War of Ilkiz nearly three millennia ago,” she spoke with a hint of awe, as if the prospect intrigued her.
“We will try the Cyclops route first, which would only take us roughly ten days, and we would reach the peak of Ilkiz.”
“Why is it called the Cyclops Route?” Azahara cut in, looking at Rowlin, who was intensely watching her. He appeared to be reading her lips, which was good because she had forgotten to sign for him.
“It is because it takes us straight through the roughest seas, and if you were to look at a map, it’s a single point in the middle and appears like a cyclone or an eye.
” Without a map, Azahara had a hard time picturing it, but she wasn’t the Captain, nor was she sea-trained. She’d take her word on the image.
“Anyways, we will attempt this route first; if we cannot complete it, we must take the longer route, which includes stopping in Celadon for supplies. Then we would take the safe route pass Itotaki, and after that it’s a straight shot through the Crescent Crossing to the Hydrox Port, Ilkiz’s only port.
“That journey will take nearly thirty days instead of roughly twelve. It is why we will try the Cyclops Route first.”
Azahara nodded, not adding to the commentary.
Alyse turned to Rowlin, signing while saying, “Do you have anything to add?”
“Nothing to the route, but can I ask you a question, Aza?” Watching him, she gave him a nod. “Can you tell me the truth about what happened at Sunfall?” He signed back.
Azahara felt her hands begin to shake as the burning around her eyes instantly threatened tears.
Rowin continued, “I just want to know. I promise no judgment.”
Azahara, unblinking, stared at him. It felt like her lips were sewn together and wouldn’t pull apart even if she tore at them.
You aren’t the monster; you wouldn’t have done it intentionally.
Her mind was fighting a losing battle. You are a liar.
A killer and a fucking monster. You would have done it repeatedly if the outcome had stayed the same. If he died, they would die.
Swallowing, she finally blinked, and the tears that had lined her eyes fell down her cheeks. “I don’t know exactly what you want me to say; what you have heard is the truth,” she moved her hands and watched as he shook his head.
“No need to sign. I can read your lips,” That beam was still on his face, and with one glance at Alyse, she could see she was smiling too. “Tell us your story, Aza; we want your truth.”
“I killed them. All of them. Whether it was for a reason or not, it doesn’t change the fact that I—” Azahara’s unsteady breathing took her back, not realizing that her entire body was vibrating.
“I—” She began to hyperventilate, and the open sea felt more constrictive like she was being swallowed by it.
The sun that kissed her was like fire and no longer comforting.
“Aza…” Alyse furrowed her eyebrows, stepping down from the barrel. “It’s okay; I promise we aren’t your enemy.”
Azahara felt her teeth chattering. “You don’t even know me.”
“Let us know you then,” Alyse sounded as though she were pleading. “Let me in. Don’t push me away.” The memory of Kaed begging for her to open up shot through her like an arrow to the heart.
“There is nothing to know,” she turned away from them, not wanting to see what Rowlin would say. Nor did she want to see the sympathy Alyse had on her face. “See me as nothing more than a package being delivered. One that will eat infrequently and be seen no more than needed.”
She felt exhausted, even if she had just woken not too long ago. Instinctively and without giving her body guidance, she began moving towards the stairs to head back to her quarters.
“Aza, please, he’s sorry,” Alyse called to her, and she could hear her footsteps against the wooden planks approaching her.
“He doesn’t need to be sorry. This is your—” Before she could get to the steps, Alyse stood before her, and Azahara scowled.
“This is your ship, and you do as you please. Question me, hate me, like me; I don’t care.
It doesn’t mean I will answer all of your questions; it doesn’t mean I’ll hate or like you back.
It is my—my fucking choice. I paid for passage from the Naverra to Ilkiz; I shouldn’t be obligated to be anything for anyone here. ”
The entire world was red then, her body on fire like the flames within Ilkiz herself. Alyse was unwavering and stood with fervor.
Azahara could see her chest rising and falling quickly at the edge of her vision. She could only hear her heartbeat while she should have heard the waves crashing against the ship’s belly.
“I—” Alyse emphasized the word so much that it nearly came out as a scream, “I am so sorry, Aza.”
“Everyone says that, but do they even know what they are sorry for?” Azahara was overbearing, and she knew it. Alyse was nothing but kind. Her heart hurt for the Azahara before Kaed’s death because she knew Alyse would have been a friend.
“I killed them, Alyse.” Her words were matter-of-fact. “And I’d do it again if it meant a different outcome for him. Then you would ask me if I knew the outcome of what I did, would I have still done it—yes, I still would.”
Her voice was full of anger, pain, remorse and pity, and she would not have been surprised if Alyse had thrown her off the ship.
Azahara could have sidestepped or thrown Alyse, but because she saw it coming, it didn’t send her into a panic.
Alyse wrapped her sun-kissed arms around her neck and embraced her. She left her arms down, fearful of how they would react without guidance if given the means. The smell of honey reminded her of Zhal, and instead of triggering a painful memory, it only made her feel at home.
“Nothing that anyone will ever say to you will help,” Alyse’s voice was gentle, sending chills throughout her, all the way to her stomach where a pit had formed.
“I can’t pretend to understand, but you are obviously in so much pain.
Take whatever time you need, and if you only want us as a means to an end, then so be it. ”
Azahara leaned her head up and closed her eyes. Alyse’s grip on her never loosened. “Just know that I see you, and so do many others. You aren’t as alone as you may think.”
“They won the war for us.” “War costs, sonny, whatever did that stopped the war.” “They finally came to help after all our prayers.” Memories of the tavern echoed in her mind.
Did she truly stop the war then and there, or had she unwittingly played right into Jaakobai’s hands?
Some would praise her as the hero, while many would brand her as the true villain.
The burden of perception weighed heavily on her heart.
Kaed had always been the hero. He deserved the songs sung about him. They should put him in the history books. If it weren’t for him, the encroaching forces of Sunfall would have befallen them in secret. The Kingdom would have been no more.
Alyse thought her to be the victim, and while she was, it didn’t overshadow what she had done.
Feeling a gentle hand atop hers, she didn’t need to look to confirm it was Rowlin. Consciously staying as far from her elbow as possible, it would seem.
“Whether you believe me or not, I am a monster capable of destruction…” Her voice but a whisper, “Do what you must to protect your family, Alyse.”
Azahara hadn’t returned the gesture of comfort, and in time, Alyse released her. The smile on the Captain’s face never faltered, and she was actively trying not to pull her eyebrows together in concern.
With a heavy nod, she navigated around Alyse, her steps unsteady as she descended to the main deck. She remained oblivious to any curious gazes that had lingered upon her. Her gaze fixated downward, not on the planks’ gaps, but the shattered world beneath her.
With trembling hands, she clasped the door handle in a desperate rush, shutting it behind her with force. Within seconds, she collapsed to the floor; her body crumpled under the weight of her sorrow, the impact echoing the magnitude of her pain.
The bed was too much of a comfort for her. She felt unworthy, deserving only the unforgiving embrace of the solid, wooden floor beneath her.