Chapter Three
KILLIAN’S FISTS CLENCHED around his reins, knuckles white, his whole body ached for how tense he was as he rode through Turell's dusty main street. It was little more than a dirt path, well worn under his bay stallion’s hooves.
Turell was a small village in Netyere’s southern province of Torne, an added two days ride would bring Killian to the border Netyere shared with the human kingdom of Valle.
The province’s rolling hills and sparse population made it perfect for the cultivation of specialty vineyards for Netyere’s prized wines, the mellow climate and fertile soil boasting large bounties and plentiful harvests.
Endless rows of grape vines, ripening purple and green fruits heavy for harvest spread out as far as the eye could see.
The best wines in Netyere came out of the Torne province. A fact the residents boasted constantly.
Only a few houses stood in the village center, smaller and simpler than their country counterparts, but cleaner and more ornate. They were home to the village craftsmen, ironworkers and tailors, and the village merchants who ferried the farmer’s barrels of wine to larger cities to turn a profit.
Not much for entertainment, Turell had only a single tavern and a vacant village hall.
The rest of Turell’s residents were scattered across the farmland in every direction. They made the journey to the tavern almost nightly after a long day in the fields as well as during times of celebration.
Life was good there. Life was simple there.
Killian was grateful for the empty streets. He didn’t want to deal with any prying eyes or loose lips, village elves eager to run and tell their neighbor that Killian del Torau had returned. Though he was sure word would spread soon enough.
Miles outside the village, through the fields and across the river stood a lone, single story farmhouse with a tall barn just across the way. They were weather worn and the wood had seen better days, but Killian recognized it in an instant. The sight of it like a physical blow.
It had been home once.
It looked exactly as he had left it a century ago.
Tying his horse outside the barn, Killian noticed that the other stalls were empty. He strained his ears, listening for signs of life. He heard nothing but a faint coughing coming from deep inside the house.
Apparently, Kade was already out for the day.
A weight lifted from Killian’s shoulders. He wasn’t ready to face Kade, yet. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be ready.
The house was quiet. Eerie.
A rush of memories Killian had spent decades trying to forget all came flooding back at once. The sound of Tyr yelling, of Pella screaming, of Kade crying, and feel of poorly covered bruises.
Forcing his legs to move, Killian followed the sound of coughing.
Light amber eyes, widened when Killian all but materialized in the open doorway of the bedroom. A simple wooden bed frame and nightstand sat in the center of the room, a single chair off to the side. The smell of death and decay soaked into the very walls, like poison in the air.
Shoulders squared and his head held high, Killian prepared for a fight.
For a moment, they just stared at each other, a blanket of heavy silence settling over them.
Years past her thousandth birthday, Pella had managed to outlive many of their kind, though the time hadn’t been kind to her.
Pella was unrecognizable, sinking into the old mattress. Her once rich chocolate hair was cut short, choppy and dull; and what little she had left was beginning to matte into a gnarled mess on the back of her head. Her cheeks were hollow and sunken, clinging to the bone.
Gone was any trace of the vibrant rage Killian remembered her by.
By human standards, Pella may have been considered a sickly middle aged woman.
Her elven aging had the years crawling by much slower for her than for any other race.
So far past her prime, her body was failing her.
Her organs shutting down one by one as she decayed from the inside out.
No doubt she had lasted this long out of pure spite.
Killian had to admit, he respected her for it.
“I didn’t think you’d come,” said Pella, her voice reflecting her appearance.
“I almost didn’t.” Killian moved further into the barren room, his boots echoing on the wooden floor. Taking a seat, he crossed his legs leisurely, then said, “You look like shit.”
Pella’s laughter surprised him—surprised both of them—and sent her into a fit. She doubled forward, her body bent as she coughed and coughed and coughed. Her cream handkerchief came away soiled with dark blood.
There was a pitcher of water on the nightstand next to the bed. She didn’t reach for it. Neither did he.
“I’ve had better days.” Pella smiled bitterly, her teeth stained red. “I guess I should thank you for coming.”
“I don’t need or want your thanks,” Killian stated simply. “Why am I here, Pella?” Her eyebrows rose at his tone. “Don’t fuck with me. Just give me a straight answer. I’d rather not waste anymore time with you.”
“At least we’re trying to be civil,” Pella sniffed.
She pursed her lips and cleared her throat.
It was a long time before she spoke again, each word chosen carefully.
“I loved my husband, but I know what kind of things happened in this house. Things I turned a blind eye to because I couldn’t bear to face them.
Things I should have protected you from.
You were my responsibility and I failed you.
I won’t ask for your forgiveness, Killian.
I don’t deserve it. I know that. You have no reason to say yes, but I have to try.
I ask you to indulge me a last wish. That’s why I called you here.
” She paused, her voice softening. “My son. My Kade. Promise me you’ll leave him alone.
Vow to me you’ll leave him be. My precious boy.
He’s done so well without you. Don’t ruin him. ”
Killian blinked. He couldn’t help the laugh of stunned disbelief that punched from his chest.
“Keep him safe,” Pella continued, leaning closer. Her breath was rancid, like rusted iron. “Say your goodbyes, and then go back to wherever you came from and stay far, far away from him.”
“I was never the one who was a threat to him.”
“You were. You are. I saw it with my own eyes the way you looked at him. You know as well as I do, you’re no good for him.
You’re not good, Killian, but my boy is.
My Kade is. Let him be.” Pella held out her arm, ready for him to take, to swear the oath and bind their en.
An oath that would hold even after her death. “Please, Killian.”
As if it were that easy.
Killian grit his teeth, sudden anger rushing through him. He’d been the only one in that house who never hurt Kade, who had never laid hands on him. “You’re insane if you think I’d ever make oath to you.”
Pella’s face fell, the soft, sweet facade melting away. It was how it always was, if her guilt didn’t work, she leaned into her anger. She snapped, “I did my best. I did all that I could to keep Kade safe from you. From his father.”
“You failed.”
Pella’s nostrils flared. “There were too many monsters in this house. I couldn’t fight them all.”
“You didn’t fight any of them. You encouraged them.”
“I did no such thing. There was only so much I could do. It was just me. Against you and Tyr. It was just me.” Pella closed her eyes and put a hand over her heart, her chest was heaving with effort, her body struggling to keep up with the anger inside her.
She made one last appeal. “If you love him, if you ever loved him, you’ll stay away. ”
Killian stood to leave. “We’re done here.”
“You’re just like him—Tyr. You’re just like your father.”
Killian knew she was baiting him, trying to force him into a position where he would bend to her will and give in.
He was familiar with her games. He knew, but there was always something about Pella that wormed under his skin.
It trampled all over the carefully constructed control he had built over the years spent away.
Before he knew what he was doing, Killian found his hand wrapped around Pella’s neck as he towered over her.
He squeezed, feeling her choke under his grip, her eyes bulged out of her head.
It would be so easy. She was so weak already, so close to death; he could just snap her neck and be done with it. It was the death she deserved.
Pella clawed at his wrist, trying and failing to get him to let go.
“Tyr is not my father. I am nothing like him,” Killian snarled.
With a long, slow breath, Killian released his grip but kept his hand on Pella’s throat.
She was shaking, her eyes wet with tears.
She looked scared. A warm satisfaction spread through him.
“You’re right, Pella. There were too many monsters in this house, but don’t forget, you were one of them. ”
Pella gurgled. “Kade is innocent in this.”
“Which is why I stayed away.”
“Then a vow would make no difference.”
Killian shook his head. “I’m done staying away. Kade said he needs me, so I’ll be what he needs. I’ll be here for him in his time of mourning.” Stepping back, Killian watched as Pella dissolved into another fit of coughs, blood dripping down her chin onto the bedsheets.
She glared up at him, and for a moment he could see her as the woman he remembered. “You’ll burn for this.”
“I’ll meet you in hell, Mother.”
The older elf was sitting in a rocking chair on her wraparound porch with a steaming mug in her hands and a blanket across her knees when Killian approached.
Her mouth was set in a firm line, no doubt she’d heard Killian coming, the familiar tune he whistled as he strolled up the dirt path between their houses having given him away.
Killian stopped before the porch steps, his big bay following his lead a few steps behind him. The horse nuzzled at Killian’s hand with his soft muzzle, searching for treats.
A genuine smile spread across Killian’s face for the first time since returning to Turell. He called out, “Can I tack in your barn for the night, my good lady? We’ve had a long journey, you see, and we’re so very far from home.”
Eria, a plump elf with dark hair and a pale eyes frowned at him. The shallow wrinkles on her forehead crinkled. She had aged visibly since Killian had last seen her, but she looked just as bright and beautiful. “Oh child, you shouldn’t have come.”
Knowing she would never truly refuse him, Killian bowed and started off towards the barn.
Eria didn’t protest.
By the time Killian had untacked, brushed the stallion down, and gotten the horse settled into an empty stall, the sun was sinking behind the mountains in the distance. The sky turning a brilliant show of orange and red.
Eria had set out two places at the table for a hearty meal of stew and freshly baked bread. She bustled around the kitchen, taking out two glasses and a decanter of local red wine.
Killian looked around. The space felt different than he remembered, something missing from the warm, cozy home. “Where’s Oriphen?”
Eria jerked, spilling a bit of the wine on the table. “My husband passed a few years after you were taken away.”
Heart sinking, Killian moved to take the wine from her hands, placing them on the table and then turning to gently bundle the older elf in his arms. “I’m so sorry, Eria. Oriphen was the best of us.”
After a moment, Eria squeezed him back, melting into his chest. Her kind smile was a bit wobbly when she pulled back. She patted him on the cheek. “Thank you, child. He missed you. He took your sentencing hard. We both did.”
Eria and Oriphen’s cozy cottage had been a sanctuary for Killian, it was more a home than the del Torau’s farm had ever been.
The first time they’d found Killian with black and blue bruises littered across his face and ribs, they’d insisted he come live with them; take the empty room at the back of the house that they’d never been able to fill with a child.
Killian had refused. Unwilling to leave Kade in that house all alone.
So they opened their doors to Killian whenever he needed it.
On nights he went hungry because he wasn’t welcome inside the farmhouse, Eria and Oriphen gave him warm food to fill his empty stomach.
On cold nights when his room in the barn nearly froze—the old tack room not meant for keeping heat—Eria and Oriphen gave him a bed and warm blankets.
On nights when he was beaten and bloody, Eria and Oriphen would call the healer and watch over him until his broken body was mended.
But every time, after dinner or early the next morning, Killian would return to Pella and Tyr, because he wouldn’t abandon Kade to them.
It had been something that haunted Killian, consumed his thoughts while he wasted away in the dungeons; he’d never gotten to say goodbye.
They sat down, Killian to Eria’s left at the head of the table, picking at the bread and sipping at the wine.
“I don’t regret it,” Killian admitted suddenly. “I’m not sorry. I know that’s not what you want to hear, but I’m not. I would do it again in a heartbeat. You know what kind of monster he was.”
Eria’s face shuddered closed. Killian was expecting a rebuttal, a rebuff that would shame him more than Pella could ever dream to.
Instead, she took his hand, cradling it between her two palms. “I know, child. I know. Oriphen never said, he knew how I feel about things like this, but he was proud of you. He was proud of you for defending yourself, and for protecting that brother of yours. Tyr was a monster, there’s no arguing that, but I still wish things had come out different for you. ”
Killian squeezed her fingers, his throat thick with emotion. “It’s alright. I’m alright. I promise. I’ve done well for myself.”
Eria smiled at that. “You have, haven’t you?
Look at you. So strong now.” She pinched his cheek.
Hard. “Which is why coming back here was the dumbest decision you could’ve ever made.
What were you thinking? You made it out, child, don’t ruin that by coming back. There’s nothing for you here anymore.”
“I’m not staying,” Killian said, defending himself. He swatted her hand away from his cheek. “I’m only here because Pella asked to see me.”
Eria reared back in surprise. “And you agreed?”
“I was curious.”
“Right. I’m sure the only reason you’re back is because Pella wanted to see you. Don’t take me for a fool, Killian.”
Killian glared at her, but there was no real heat in it. “So maybe Kade also asked to see me. But that doesn’t mean I’m staying.”
“Good.”
“Good.”
“Good.” They faced off. Eria rolled her eyes. “Eat your supper before it gets cold.”
Killian gave a mock salute and replied, “Yes, ma’am,” before digging in and doing exactly that.