Chapter 13
Lorali
S unlight dripped into the living room, filtering through the gauzy curtains and bathing everything in its soft glow. Lorali almost never had the chance to enjoy those peaceful hours when the birds sang their song high in the trees. The sound of her footsteps on the familiar path from home to the Order shushed them as she passed. She’d never realized that a glint of sunlight shone through her window, reflecting off the hanging copper pans in the kitchen across her face, warming her skin and painting the back of her eyelids a warm orange at this angle.
Something stirred within her, a small flame kindled with comfort. With the sound of a heartbeat beneath her ear and the rise and fall of a chest. The weight of a warm hand along her back tracing the grooves of her spine as if it were scripture that must be dedicated to memory. In her sleep-addled haze, she was content to stay in that comforting embrace. She couldn’t remember the last time she had fallen asleep in someone’s arms. It had been a lifetime ago, and it hurt to feel just how hazy the memory of her mother’s touch had become, the sound of soft hummed lullabies beneath the stars. Her heart wanted nothing more than to savor the scent of soil and pine beneath her.
But that was just a memory, a dream of a time long lost to another’s greed, and reality crashed around her in an instant. Heart racing, she pushed herself up, trying to make sense of who it was that held her, that touched her with such familiarity. He blinked up at her, surprise lining his clover green eyes. Eldric.
The night before rushed back to her—their bond pulling them together, easing the ache in their bones from a day of magic and distance. She looked down at his sleep-mussed hair, and half-open eyes. Gods, she had fallen asleep on top of him.
“You snore,” he said flatly, hand resting upon her back still. She quickly moved, scrambling off the couch, looking at him and the small drool stain on his shirt from how soundly she had been sleeping. Her face burned bright as she looked away, stepping towards the window and seeing the sun rising ever higher within the sky. A stone dropped within her stomach as the temple’s bell began to chime from downtown. She counted the tolls, praying that each one that passed would be the last. On the ninth ring, everything went quiet .
“Gods above and below,” she breathed, running through the house, throwing herself into her bedroom, and slamming the door behind her.
“Lorali?” Eldric called. Concern laced his voice when he only heard curses in response as she stubbed her toe on the bed. “Lorali, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”
Quick steps rushed across the hardwood, following her path to the back of the house. Her uniform was dirty and rumpled on the floor since she hadn’t had the chance to do the laundry like she planned. She tore every piece of clothing out of her closet, searching for a clean under tunic.
“I’m fine—I’m just— I’m late! ” she shouted, loud enough to carry through the oak door. She could’ve cried when she found one, pulling the fabric over her head. Late wasn’t a word used to describe Lorali Wynmar, Cleric of Ostara. She had never been late a day in her life. Never missed her duties in sixteen years. For years she had worked hard to uplift her standing within the Order, to show others that despite her young age, she could still excel. It felt as if to be late now would be to throw it all away.
“You need to rest,” Eldric called through the door. She could see him in her mind's eye leaning against its frame as he waited for permission to enter or for her to come out—whichever came first. “You were so exhausted yesterday you fell asleep in an instant. Tell them you’re sick.”
“I said I'm fine.”
“Lorali—”
“I get one day off, El, I’m fine—”
“Stop saying that!” His voice was sharp, cleaving through her panic in an instant. “Your day off was anything but restful, Lorali. You are not fine. Look at yourself, and tell me otherwise.”
When she looked at the mirror, the mirror stared back. Reflecting the disaster that was the room she tore apart trying to find anything to wear. Her breath heaving in her chest as she wrung a gilded over-dress between her hands. Her eyes were almost hollow, dark circles beneath them. She touched her face gingerly, unsure when they got there.
Stopped with nothing else to distract her, she could feel it. The ache deep in her bones, the trembling in her gut that left her fatigued, her throat tight. How tired she was. Lorali could hear his palm rest on old brass, the metal knob twisting slightly beneath his hand as he fidgeted with it. Like he always did when he was waiting for her blessing to enter.
“Can I come in?” It was soft when he asked, hesitant and waiting.
“It’s a mess in here,” she whispered, feeling the flight that had overtaken her the instant she woke up leave just as quickly. She sank to her knees amidst the chaos, exhaustion running so deep she didn’t know if it’d ever leave.
“I didn’t ask if it was clean,” he amended. “Can I come in?”
She nodded, hesitant. After a moment, she realized he couldn’t see her from behind the door. She had to tell him. Her mouth opened, voice stuck within her throat as she searched for the strength to let him in.
The floor was scattered with clothes, desk filled with old cups and bowls and plates from midnight snacks needing to be washed. They teetered in a stacked pile next to the framed sketch of her mother and father she’d drawn when she was young enough to remember their faces without the haze of time, well-worn folds still visible despite being pressed between glass. Outside the sunlit window, their garden bloomed beneath fresh morning dew and bright yellow bees bumbled about the flowers and fruits and vegetables. She touched the necklace that always lay at the hollow of her throat, securing her mother and father’s wedding bands close to her so that she always carried them with her, and swallowed. Searching for strength.
Her voice cracked when she spoke, but the word came out no matter how pitiful it sounded. “Yes. ”
The door opened slowly as Eldric cleared his throat, staying just outside the door as if he might spook her into running once more.
“You should take some time away from the Order to recover,” he said softly, brows creased as he looked at nothing in the room but her. He didn’t care about the mess, how things looked or how her shirt was so twisted within her hands, she knew she’d have to iron the wrinkles out.
“I can’t.” She could feel unbidden tears pricking at the corners of her eyes and she did everything to hold them at bay as her heart trembled inside her chest, skipping beats as it raced faster than she had ever felt before. Her voice quivered. “There’s so much to do. They need me.”
“You need yourself more right now.” He stepped in, and she flinched. He hesitated, but didn’t step forward again. “I’ve seen you work yourself to exhaustion day in and day out; you are at a breaking point. You need to breathe. To be.”
He sank to his knees to be with her, waiting. “You performed a miracle yesterday, Lorali. An absolute miracle. Saraina would have died, but you saved her—poured everything you could give into healing her. Your body—your soul—needs to recover from that. If you keep giving parts of yourself to others without taking time to heal, soon there won’t be anything left. You’ll crumble. ”
Silent tears spilled over her cheeks, rolled down her neck, pooling along her collarbone as she shook her head. “I don’t—I’m fine. I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine—” She choked back the sob and kept telling herself that until it was true. Because it was. It would be, one day. But her body knew the weight it carried, the pressure she placed upon herself, and the words were not a balm that would melt into her skin to heal her wounds. They burned along her veins, finding every cut and scrape to seep into and make her feel how not fine she really was.
She held the crumpled shirt in her hands, pulling it close to her chest as the first whimper escaped her lips. In an instant, Eldric was there, pulling her into his arms and allowing her to lose herself in the storm that was her grief. Her anguish. But as her lungs expanded with each hitch in her chest, she could not get enough air. She hungered for it in a way she never had before as her world began to crumble around her.
“Lorali,” he whispered, his hand resting against her back, feeling the ragged saw of her chest. “Lorali, it’s okay. The work will be there when you get back.”
She shook her head. “No—it’s not. Nothing is okay, no one—”
Realization capsized her heart, pulling it under as she thought of all she had given and never received in return. Lorali screwed her eyes shut, trying to block out the chill of panic seeping into her very bones. Dragging her under. One thought echoing throughout her very core. For every cup she filled, no one filled hers in return. In all her years, no one had cared enough to do the same. No one cared—
“ No one cares. ” The confession came between sharp breaths, her trembling hands clutching the wrinkled shirt like a lifeline. But even she knew it would not keep her from being pulled beneath the current.
“I care,” Eldric whispered, gently cupping her cheeks. He raised her face to him, ruddy and tearstained, and looked into her with such tenderness that she wanted to believe. His thumb brushed away the tears before he took her hands and placed them over his own heart. She could feel it, strong and sure, beneath her palm. The steady rise and fall of his chest.
“I’m here. Breathe ,” he said with a voice so gentle, she couldn’t help but mirror as he breathed in deep through his nose, then out through his mouth. In and out, until it began to calm her uneven heart. They sat there, the warm sun streaming in through the windows as it rose higher into the sky. His eyes never left hers, even for a moment.
“With every breath, you are safe,” he murmured in reassurance as he took her palms and placed them over her own heart.
“With every heartbeat, you are strong.” His hands wandered back to her face, gently brushing away blonde strands that stuck to her skin, wiping away the remnants of tears and pressing a kiss to her forehead.
“With every moment, you are loved.” Warmth bloomed within her cold chest, filling her with hope. Here, in the wreck that was her room, he sat. He stayed. He was there. And she wanted it. Wanted to believe him when he said he cared. Wanted to take his strength and let it fill her, as she had done for others. Wanted to be the person that was cared for.
Leaning forward, she pressed her forehead against his chest. Felt the beating rhythm of his heart, wrapped in the scent of pine and soil that had become an unbeknownst comfort to her as the months passed. Despite it all, how strange their relationship was and how little they really knew about each other, he was an anchor for her to return to. One that she had attached herself to, never realizing she was adrift at sea. One that did not ask for anything in return.
When her sobs eased and quiet hiccups took their place, he still held her tight, chin resting atop her unbound hair. Time passed and she said nothing, unsure how she found herself within his embrace again, but this time she did not run. This time, she let herself be .
Eldric was hesitant when he broke the silence. “So you’re not going to the temple, I take it?”
She peeked up, looking at the sun continuing its ascent.
“I don’t...What do I even say?” Her voice croaked as she blinked, running a hand through her hair and feeling the spiral of worry begin to pull at her, threatening to unravel once more.
“Don’t worry about that, just tell me how you need to let them know. I’ll take care of it,” he said, palm cupping her cheek as his thumb brushed away the lingering tears.
***
Eldric dictated the words for Lorali to transcribe, taking the fear of saying the wrong thing off her shoulders so she would finally send the message along a phoenix-shaped flame to the archcleric’s office. Her impatient feet had worn a fresh path into the floor as she waited for the underwhelming response of ‘ feel better ’ written in Sage’s familiar scrawl before the parchment turned to ash atop her dining table. Eldric tried to convince her to stay out for the rest of the month, but she’d refused. She said she only needed the day and he threatened to tie her to the chair. The rest of the week had been the only compromise they could agree on. She needed to be back before the summer solstice as part of her duties for planning Veridian.
And she was glad of it.
Guilt gnawed at her bones, souring the honeyed tea in her hands and muddling her mind when she tried to distract herself with the garden. Just today was enough to drive her mad, mind whirling and fighting for every excuse as to why she should be there. How was she supposed to do this for a whole week? But Eldric still didn’t let her step foot toward the temple. Did his best to keep her from thinking about it.
“It’s like you’ve never taken a vacation before.”
“I haven’t,” she muttered, glowering down at her half-empty glass.
“Anywhere. You can go anywhere, Lorali! No one is expecting you at the Order for days. You say the word, I’ll make it happen. Promise.” He leaned forward, elbows on the table and chin resting in his palms, as he waited for her desired destination. By the gleam in his eye, she knew he would rearrange the stars and their paths just to make it happen.
Brows furrowed, she stared at him, willing some inkling of desire into existence. She loved that spark of adventure in his eyes and the thought of dimming it made her chest tighten. Her mind drew nothing—she had nowhere she wanted to go. Everything important in her life was here on her property. A cozy home, a yard covered in wild berries and flowers reaching toward the sky, someone who understood. Why would she want to go anywhere else?
She paused, considering.
“What about the starberry patch?”