Chapter Twenty-One
Cormal
Oh, Kee—”
Cormal was climbing to his feet before he realized that he was moving, getting around in front of the man, cupping his face as best he could.
“Hey, hey, hey. It’s all right. Everything’s going to be fine. Anything that happens to me here is not your fault, all right?”
But Kinan’s eyes had filled with tears, and he was shaking his head, cheeks passing right through Cormal’s fingers. Cormal had the sudden realization that for every wish he had that Kinan would be well, that he would be happy and unharmed, Kinan was wishing it back.
And right now, he knew full well that Brannal or Perian could kill him. Cormal had known he was putting himself in danger, and he hadn’t thought about how it might make Kinan feel. Because he was an idiot.
“I think you’d better come inside.”
They both twisted at the new voice, and there was Perian, standing beside Brannal, looking at both of them with an expression Cormal couldn’t quite decipher. The elements were gone, although Cormal knew how quickly they could be summoned.
Cormal tried to pour every bit of reassurance into his expression for Kinan, then turned around entirely so that he was facing Brannal and Perian. Brannal was watching him like a hawk, and Cormal couldn’t blame him.
“I swear that I mean you no harm,” he told them. “I swear on Kinan that I mean you no harm. I wish only to talk.”
Brannal didn’t relax, exactly, but he maybe looked ever so slightly less homicidal.
Perian turned to go back inside, but Brannal caught him.
“They’re going inside first, and you’re staying behind me.”
Perian rolled his eyes, but he didn’t argue. Cormal did as directed, keeping his hands loose and fingers unclenched. Kinan put himself between Cormal and the other two, leaving Cormal to enter the house first.
He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting from Perian’s home.
“Estate” conjured something grander in his head, but it was actually very…
comfortable. Cormal had only scattered memories now of where he’d lived as a child before his mother had brought him to the castle.
They’d lived in a medium-sized town in a room at a boarding house.
In retrospect, Cormal assumed that his father had supported them.
As a child, it hadn’t occurred to him to wonder.
The castle, of course, was so much grander in every way.
Perian’s house had so much more space than Cormal’s earliest memories, but it still felt homey in a way that the castle didn’t.
Brannal directed them to what looked like a sitting room, and he pointed them at a couch, where Perian and Brannal could sit opposite, with plenty of space between the two couples.
The room was nicely appointed without being ostentatious, and the furniture was comfortable.
Cormal wondered if that meant there were no rooms with uncomfortable furniture in the house.
He had a feeling Brannal would have put him there if that were an option.
Brannal and Perian sat right next to one another, and despite the tension that had no doubt been caused by Cormal’s arrival, they looked happy, like they fit together perfectly.
Although Brannal was dressed in his Mage Warrior armor, Perian was only wearing a shirt and trousers, no vest or coat in evidence.
It was nice to see them like this, actually, even if it made part of Cormal’s chest ache.
He wasn’t sure if it was old feelings or the awareness of how close he’d come to ruining this, or maybe both.
It was more of a relief than he’d expected to see Perian completely healthy and whole.
Perian was looking at Kinan, smiling.
“I’m so happy to see you,” he said, then laughed a little at himself. “Literally, but also that you’re here! You’re looking well. I’m so sorry I couldn’t do more.”
Kinan shook his head, smiling in turn, which thankfully swept away the lingering look of fear from when they’d been outside. “Please, don’t apologize. You pushed yourself into a coma for me. You did everything you could.”
Perian and Brannal exchanged glances, and then their gazes slid over Cormal.
He cleared his throat. “It’s not the only reason I’m here, but, uh, because I’m stupid and tried to think about you as little as possible, it didn’t occur to me until Kinan asked that you might be able to do more if you tried again.
I mean, if you’re all right with that; we certainly don’t want to land you in a coma again, or worse.
It wouldn’t be for me, obviously, but for Kinan. I wouldn’t get in the way.”
Perian looked a little surprised. Brannal was incredibly impassive.
Tracing a finger back and forth between the two of them, Perian said, “Is this why you’re being so weird?”
Cormal let out something that was almost a laugh.
“Sort of? He was the first person I apologized to. And because he’s the nicest person in the entire world, he forgave me, even though he shouldn’t have.
And he helped me see all the things that I was too blind to see before.
And realize that there were a lot more people I needed to apologize to. ”
Perian looked shocked. “Is that why you’re here?”
Cormal nodded. “And I know you have no reason to believe me or even to agree to listen, but I wanted to come anyway. I thought about writing a letter but doubted you would read it, and even if you did, those are just words. You can’t see me or have me answer any of your questions—or knee me in the groin. Again.”
Perian’s face split into a wide grin. “Oh, no, did you try to apologize to Renny?”
Cormal nodded. “It went pretty much exactly how you’d expect it to. She’s still not speaking to me. I don’t blame her.”
Perian’s expression faded to something more contemplative. “You don’t expect us to forgive you.”
“Not at all,” Cormal admitted. “I think Kinan has a vested interest, that’s all, and like I said, he’s been kinder than I deserved. Delana, too.”
Perian blinked. “Who all have you apologized to?”
Cormal counted on his fingers. “Oh, uh, Kinan, Delana, the Princess, Onadal, and Zametta, the watch station leader who had to lie to Brannal. I wrote to Nisal, and Onadal agreed to write to Gribon. I managed to offend Molun when I tried, so I didn’t even attempt Arvus, not yet.
It was Molun who pointed out that it wasn’t really any of them that I’d hurt.
I mean, I did hurt and betray some of them, of course, but I took his point.
Why would they even consider forgiving me when I hadn’t tried to apologize to the two of you for what I’d done? ”
Perian looked surprised, and even Brannal’s expression had shifted to something that was maybe… a slightly surprised stoic?
Cormal sighed. “Kinan was the first person that I felt listened to me when I told him why I’d done what I’d done.
I felt so endlessly frustrated that Brannal and everyone else wasn’t listening to me that it didn’t occur to me that I was doing the exact same thing in reverse.
And of course, since I’m the one who was wrong, it makes everyone else right to have done so. ”
Brannal closed his mouth on what Cormal assumed had been a protest about Cormal not listening to anyone at all.
Kinan protested on Cormal’s behalf, “You had your reasons.”
Ruefully, Cormal looked over at Brannal and Perian. “I did have my reasons. I don’t mean them to be excuses, but I hope they can maybe explain a little why I made so many terrible choices?”
It ended like a question, because they could still refuse to even hear him out.
It was Perian who nodded after a moment. “Go on.”
Because Cormal and Perian had never been friends. Because they’d only known one another for months, not years. And because it was much easier to forgive what someone had done to you than what they had done to someone you loved.
Cormal suppressed a sigh.
“Despite how it obviously looked and what everyone assumed, I’ve never wanted to be Summus.
Brannal, I’ve known you since I was ten, and you can control all the elements.
You’ve always been the strongest, fiercest Mage Warrior of my acquaintance.
I knew practically from the moment I met you that you’d be Summus after my father.
I wanted to be valued, and I, uh,” he cleared his throat, “picked the person I thought most likely to do that?”
Wow, this was a lot harder to say in front of Brannal than he’d thought.
Perian elbowed Brannal in the ribs. “Ha! I told you he had feelings for you.”
Kinan stiffened, but Cormal only smirked, appreciating the moment of levity. Brannal didn’t look particularly amused.
Making himself continue, Cormal admitted, “I’ve known for years that you didn’t feel that way about me, but maybe part of me just kept hoping. It was an easy pattern to stay in, anyway, because you weren’t interested in anyone else… until you suddenly were.”
Perian said, “And it was sudden, wasn’t it? It took you by surprise.”
Cormal nodded. “And as soon as I could assign another reason to it? I latched right on.”
Perian was nodding. “I do remember, actually, how worried you sounded in the corridor. I was so confused.”
Cormal nodded, pressed his lips together for a moment, and then made himself speak. “I truly thought you were going to feed on an injured man. That Brannal was in danger. And I couldn’t let that happen.”
“Again,” Perian said, eyes suddenly intent. “That’s what you said, isn’t it? You wouldn’t let it happen again.”
Cormal stiffened. Nodded. This was not, at all, a secret that he’d intended to reveal, but maybe they couldn’t understand unless he told them the whole truth. And maybe he was tired of carrying this burden.
His chest ached. He drew in a deep breath and blew it out. “So many people died in the last demon attack—”
Brannal exploded to his feet, and wind gusted around the room. “Perian is not a demon!”
Perian rose much more calmly and laid a restraining hand on Brannal’s arm. “That’s not strictly accurate, is it?”