Chapter 18 Kaed
Kaed
Time passed and it felt like days, not merely hours. All Kaed could do was assist Illyan in cleaning the place to the best of their ability, but it was difficult. Everything in the home, from her belongings to her lingering scent, served as a poignant reminder of her.
Illyan had moved the green pillow upstairs, sensing that each time Kaed looked at it, he would fall apart all over again.
Only after they had finished did Kaed venture outside to check on their steeds. Although the rain had started to subside, it still drizzled upon the drenched meadow. He didn’t have to search far, as both Starlight and Moondancer were resting in the very spot where Azahara had been taken.
An intense wave of pain erupted within his chest, compelling him to take a deep breath in an effort to quell the sensation. Despite the draining impact it had on him, he knew he had to check on them.
Approaching that very spot was like being drained of life.
“Starlight, Moondancer,” he called out to them as he approached cautiously.
Only Moondancer responded, rising and coming to stand beside him.
Starlight remained motionless, their white patches marred by stains of red.
The rain would have washed away the evidence had the horse moved away from the pool of her blood.
Kaed pressed his head against Moondancer’s, who let out a soft whimper. His hand brushed against her neck. “I know, girl.”
He leaned down and crouched slowly, not knowing Starlight long. He didn’t want to startle him or cause more stress. His hand pressed against the thoroughbred’s strong shoulder. “Come on, let’s get you in the stable.”
Starlight didn’t move. He was alive but didn’t motion that he was hearing Kaed. His eyes trained from the horse to the soaked grass.
“Kill me. Take my life.”
In a moment of great darkness, Kaed got to his knees and put his hands down on the blood-soaked ground. “Come back to me… please, Azahara… come back to us…” Tears added to the muddy ground. His fingers gripped at the grassroots as he willed her to appear in front of them.
He wanted to scream, shout, kill, destroy—everything to bring her back. Illyan and he played clean-up while she was fighting for her life. How could he be so selfish?
Warmth covered his hand, and his eyes shot open.
Starlight moved its head and placed it across Kaed’s clenched knuckles. This steed was the closest thing to Azahara aside from Illyan, and if anyone felt the pain he did, it was him. It was as if the horse understood him, pressing its snout against his hands, imploring him to find peace.
“Kaed.” He looked around, hearing her voice. “I lo—” I can’t believe I stopped her... He had ripped away her choice to tell him at that moment.
“I’m so sorry—” His hands came up, soaked with blood and mud. “Why…”
“I sometimes wonder why,” she said, appearing like a fleeting memory before him.
“Why me?” She reached out to stroke Starlight, though the horse remained motionless, confirming that this was a projection of Kaed’s mind.
“I think that’s why I write these journals, to seek understanding, or perhaps simply to accept what is my life,” she added with a wistful smile, causing Kaed to inhale shakily.
"Red..." His voice was raw, laced with pain.
“Maybe one day I’ll find a reason to search for that answer…” She turned to him, her eyes holding a depth of understanding and compassion, free from judgment. Her stunning face, too perfect for this world, bore unique red freckles that danced in harmony with her coiled ruby hair.
“Come home,” he whispered.
Then, as quickly as she appeared, she was gone.
Kaed wondered if he was somehow hearing her journals. How that was possible, he didn’t know, especially right now when Magic was halted.
After taking another deep breath, he got to his feet. Surprisingly, Starlight did the same. With the two horses in tow, they returned to her home.
Moondancer and Starlight made their way to the stables without needing guidance.
While animals couldn’t communicate with Elves, they had an uncanny ability to sense their emotions.
It was understandable that Starlight had been affected, considering the darkness, but seeing Moondancer equally impacted surprised him.
He hadn’t realized she had formed such a strong connection with Azahara, possibly even with Starlight, in such a short time.
Then again, hadn’t it been the same with him?
Stepping inside the warm cottage, Illyan turned and, with wide eyes, hollered. “Take your boots off right now, Mister, and wash your hands. I was just on my hands and knees scrubbing this place. I won’t have you turning it into a pig stye.”
“Yes, Sir—uh, shit, yes, captain.” Kaed pressed his toe against the back of one shoe and then the other to slide them off.
“I like captain, but sir is fine too. Or ma’am.
Or it,” Illyan said with a smile, and Kaed returned the gesture.
The Fae had proven themselves to be a great friend to Azahara, and even to him.
Kaed’s previous unfounded animosity toward them began to weigh on him.
Once everything settled down, he knew he’d have to find a way to make amends.
Kaed washed his hands in the sink, making sure to clean up after himself.
Illyan had truly done a great job, except for the missing pieces of furniture; the house was spotless.
The books had been put back in place by him, which was about his only contribution.
He took care to make sure the green ones were at her eye level.
As he approached the living area, his mind wandered to see her sitting next to the fireplace when he made the comment about imagining a world without her in it.
She had reacted as he had expected, the tint of red lining her cheeks and nose, expression aloof, denial that anyone would ever feel that way towards her.
He had meant every word of it, and if he hadn’t been so scared, he would have told her right then and there that he loved her.
If only he had kept his wits about him. After the incident that caused her to collapse for two days, he had nearly mentally beaten himself into a coma. How could he have lost control like that?
Truly, she was the most beautiful woman this world had ever been graced with, but she was tormented. Pulled between what she wanted, and keeping him safe. He had forced her to answer that question, even if it had been done with all good intentions.
He blinked, and once again, the fragment of her appeared.
“I think you should take Starlight, Illyan.” Kaed moved to sit across from her.
She was standing next to the fire, and while it did reflect off of her, it wasn’t as bright as it would be if she were there.
“I can tell it’s affecting him, having me forget him every year.
It’s not fair.” Her head turned to look towards the kitchen, and while Illyan was standing there, they didn’t turn to interact.
“I know it’s difficult for me too,” she continued, “but I can feel it breaking his heart. If we start allowing the healing process now, it won’t be as painful.
Just do this for me. I’ll stay away longer throughout the years.
That way, he’ll bond with you—Illyan, please, just stop.
” It was difficult listening to one side of the story, but he supposed Illyan was trying to convince her otherwise.
However, she didn’t waver. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t seven feet tall and strong as an ox. Her strength lay in her unwavering determination, which made her powerful.
He blinked, and she was gone.
“Are you still hearing her?” Illyan broke the silence, coming over toward him in the living room.
Kaed just nodded his head, sinking into the couch.
“I found something.” He turned to see them holding a few folded pieces of paper. “Both of your bags had been tossed through, and I assume it came out of hers.” After a moment of hesitation, he reached out and accepted the paper with his name written on it.
“I’m going to go outside and get some fresh air while you read that.” Something told Kaed that Illyan had peeked, but he wouldn’t accuse them of it. They could have also put it back together because the paper was crinkled and misshapen.
“Thank you,” he said and watched them gracefully get up and exit.
Returning his gaze down to the pieces of paper, he hesitated to open them. His heart beat rapidly in his chest as his thumb brushed against the edges. “I lo—” He opened the page and began reading her letter addressed to him:
Kaed,
I’m not sure how to even start this letter. I’ve only ever written to myself. Finding a starting point is difficult for me.
I’m writing this now while you sit on the couch before a lit fireplace. You have a cup of tea in your hand and are asking how my house became what it was. You were surprised when I told you that it had been nothing but a shack before I started.
At this moment, as mundane as it is, my heart swells with happiness. A feeling that I have not felt in so, so long. If not forever.
I think you are beginning to question me more and more every day, and I can see it in your eyes when you look at me.
I’ve decided to tell you the truth about me. Hopefully, I was able to before you received this letter. I will not write again what I am, why I am, who I am—I’d rather it come from my lips instead.
I am only putting this together if something happens to me or I’ve lost my memory of you.
Whether the former or the latter, they are just as painful for me.
And I don’t mean physical pain, but the knowledge of what my death would do to you or the pain of forgetting you.
I can’t stomach either of them, but I know they are inevitable.
It’s life with me if you so choose it to be.
While you may find sunshine in my eyes, they are shrouded in clouds.
I’ve never been one to anticipate blue skies, and I think that is why it makes it difficult to trust. In every situation, I anticipate the worst possible scenario.
Even if I seem on the bright side of life, deep down, I know the outcome will be at its darkest.
It makes placing my hope in people impossible.
Then, you showed up on horseback. Before you, my skies were always gray. Now, they are finally filled with colors. You brought the sun into my dark world.
I know that you would love me on days that I am unlovable. It honestly scares me. Because you, Kaed, are good. All the way down to your bones, you are kind and gentle. You have wanted nothing but for me to be honest with you, and I couldn’t even give you that.
You make trusting you so easy. You make me believe that the outcome can be filled with light. I have never met someone, never in my five hundred years of life that I’ve written about, who draws so much sunlight and warmth from within me.
I am beyond terrified that my darkness will shroud your world. To take away your life and the light you bring.
It is why I want to give you a choice. It won’t ever be easy.
The choice to walk away now. This is not a life I would wish anyone to have.
I am an eternal burden with no expiration date.
Bound to walk these lands with an hourglass emptying, just to be flipped over to restart again.
With an angry god at my back tormenting me.
You would live this life to be forgotten until the end of your days.
This choice I would never fault you for, nor is it a weak one.
While I don’t know if I deserve the choice for you to stay, I want it, and I will fight every day to make it the right one.
Whatever draws me to you tells me that it is true, that this is what fate has drawn.
Nothing will stop me from fighting to be what you need in your life.
And if I must die a million times to keep you safe, I will.
On a lighter note, if you think there are more choices, please feel free to make them.
I laughed aloud, oops, now you’re staring at me.
I’ll end this before I write you a whole novel. I know I told you not to touch the books, but I think it’s fair to say that whatever you want of mine is yours. So read them.
Love, Azahara
Red
Kaed read the letter for a second, third, and fourth time before he folded it and looked up. It was now abundantly clear: she felt the same way he did.
Closing his eyes, he was transported back to the exact moment when she had written that letter.
He could see her sitting at the dining room table, writing quietly.
A cute giggle had escaped her, and he had wanted to tease her for laughing at her own joke.
It had been endearing, but he didn’t want to make her self-conscious.
He just wanted her to write with him there and feel comfortable doing it.
He wished he had kissed her then, as she folded the paper and tucked it into the journal. She had noticed him staring at her and had playfully teased him about it. The memory made him smile, though it also brought a tinge of pain.
He needed her back home; it was more than a want now.
With an unsteady breath, he stood from the couch and walked over to the wall of books, which were her journals, her life.
He selected one with the binding that read “Must Reads” leaned against the shelf, and opened it to the first page.
He began to read about the woman he would choose every day and in every lifetime.