Chapter Thirty-Four #2
Sighing, Aurora took a moment to contemplate.
“I’m not so sure. I uprooted my own life when I decided to leave the North to find you. I left it all behind, and now I wouldn’t even know where to begin starting over, or if I even could.”
“You could.” I reached across the small table, placing my hand on top of hers. “You can.”
Aurora remained hesitant, but she didn’t seem as close-minded as before.
That moment was my chance to help change things for her.
And I wouldn’t let the opportunity go to waste.
I stood abruptly, my wings flaring slightly in excitement as I reached out a hand toward her.
“Come with me. Let me show you something.”
She looked up at me, our eyes meeting, as if she expected my offer to be some sort of trick, or something I’d revoke.
I wondered then if she knew how much she meant to me. How much she would always mean to me.
I grinned as she slowly placed her hand in mine and stood from her seat.
“Let’s see what you’ve got,” she said, her voice sounding a lot like a challenge.
I lead her through The Haven, offering soft greetings to those we passed by—who no longer stared or shied away from the presence of winged fae in the South. They smiled openly and greeted us in return—their queen and her friend.
I guided us toward the front of the castle, where the amount of civilians present was higher. The location I was leading us to was conveniently placed to be the most accessible to the public.
After what felt like ages with nerves eating away at me, wondering how she’d react, we arrived at our destination.
The Haven’s infirmary.
I held one of the heavy wooden doors open for Aurora and filed in behind her, but almost ran straight into her when she paused just a few steps inside.
She was taking in the beauty, I realized, as I watched her gaze drink in the space.
The infirmary was jaw-dropping. It had a tall, peaked roof overhead, with hundreds of vines and plants hanging from it—some clinging to the stone of the ceiling itself, and others in small pots stuck to the sides of the roof.
Each plant was different, though, and was something Chess’s mentor had begun with just a handful of different vines.
Since Chess took over as Byn’s royal trokav, though, he’d added dozens and dozens more.
He or one of his fellow trokavs tended to them daily, ensuring they were healthy.
The plants weren’t only to make the space more lively, though.
Each one had a purpose, whether it be something the trokavs could’ve used to help heal somebody, or just a type that they could put next to patients’ beds.
Aside from the masterfully crafted garden above, the infirmary had enough space for well over one hundred patients—if they squeezed a bit.
There were rows and rows to our right of small cots, all of which were mostly empty aside from the folded bedding on each.
Deeper inside, there were more spaces for patients that offered more privacy, if they needed it.
Such as when loved ones had to say goodbye.
Fortunately, the team of trokavs Chess had left in charge while we were journeying to and from the Ocrein Isles had managed to clear out almost all of the remaining patients still present after the Battle of Shadows.
They had been the ones that had been hurt the worst, and needed the most time and hands-on care.
I explained all of this to Aurora as we stood just deep enough in the space to see each section as I pointed them out.
Just as I was about to dive into the tall windows that allowed sunlight into the giant room and helped brighten patients’ days, Chess caught sight of us.
He stood to the left, opposite the rows of cots, where his main workstation was.
It looked like he was grinding an ointment together as he headed over to us with the mortar and pestle still in hand, mixing nonstop.
“Hello! I wasn’t expecting you today, Viva. Aurora.” Chess dipped his head toward both of us respectfully. “To whom do I owe the pleasure?”
“Aurora here was training to be the Heartshire’s royal trokav back in the North. I thought it’d be beneficial for her to see how things are done here in the South, and where the miracles happen.” I wiggled my fingers at Chess as I spoke the word miracles.
“Oh, wonderful! It’s a fantastic specialty to have, isn’t it?” Chess asked, his voice light and welcoming toward Aurora.
“The best,” Aurora agreed with a nod.
“Let me show you around!” Chess exclaimed as he threw all formalities out of the window, looping arms with Aurora and tugging her deeper into his infirmary.
Aurora looked back at me helplessly, but allowed herself to be led away. I chuckled, tagging along behind the duo.
I watched as Chess flitted around from one part of the infirmary to the next, explaining to Aurora not only what it was for, but also relating a brief memory of his to each space.
My personal favorite had been when he recalled an encounter he’d had with his mentor.
Chess had been much younger and had wanted to get out of an elixir test at the time.
In order to do so, he used his zirilium to force a specific plant on the ceiling to grow faster than it should have—a plant that just so happened to drip its nectar into the elixir base for the test. It combusted right as his mentor picked it up, as the movement had caused the base and nectar to mix.
Chess knew that this specific plant’s nectar was only used for extreme ointments, and in small doses, but wouldn’t cause too much harm.
Apparently, his mentor had been so taken aback that he’d postponed the test in favor of figuring out why his elixir base was acting up.
I couldn’t help but smile broadly as Chess recounted the memory, his eyes lighting up as he spoke and his breathing coming out short as he laughed.
He was my age, and though I knew he’d experienced grief and hardship, he didn’t let it define him.
He still did his best to not only strive in his trade, but to be happy.
I could only wish that Aurora had caught sight of that, too.
That joy was within her grasp.
As the three of us wrapped up our round of the infirmary, we found ourselves near Chess’s workstation once again.
“This was a fun visit. You’re welcome here anytime—both of you.” Chess’s gaze bounced between Aurora and me as he spoke.
“Thank you,” Aurora responded softly.
Perhaps she was finally warming up to the idea of the South.
“I have to go make my patient rounds now, but it was great showing you around!” The royal trokav waved as he walked backwards a few steps, then turned and retreated deeper into the infirmary, toward the direction of the private beds.
After bidding him farewell, I glanced toward Aurora. I smiled a bit when I realized she was looking around in wonder at the different sections of the infirmary that we’d been shown.
“You could be a part of all this, you know,” I said, still observing her.
“Pardon?” Aurora asked, shifting her focus back toward me.
“You could make yourself useful here,” I expanded. “You could find purpose again.”
At those words alone, her expression shifted from awe to resignation. She appeared almost pained at the thought of what I’d mentioned, but I truly didn’t understand why.
“Aurora, please. Just tell me what you’re thinking. Let me in,” I begged, taking a step toward her.
I watched as she hung her head, that emotionless mask back in place that she’d often had on before today.
I couldn’t grasp it. She’d risked everything to come to Cairnyl—to warn me. She’d been with us for months now. What else was there to do besides begin to find her place there? To start over, to build a life?
I was missing something; I was sure of it. I just couldn’t figure out exactly what.
“I don’t know what I did, but whatever it was, Aurora, I’m sorry.” I clasped my hands together, anxiously picking at the skin around my nails.
She took a deep breath before lifting her head again and peering at me. Ever observant, she placed a hand on mine, making me pause my movements.
“Can we go for a fly? Like old times—except just us this time,” Aurora asked, briefly looking sad at the mention of it being just the two of us.
Maybe what I hadn’t considered was how she missed Dimitri—but if that were the case, why wouldn’t she express that?
Surely that was something we could relate to together.
I nodded, forcing the thought of my twin out of my mind before he was all I could think of.
“Of course. We can even visit Eden, if you’d like,” I offered, moving toward the tall doors.
“Yes, I would like that,” Aurora responded, though there wasn’t a hint of any true emotion in her voice.
“We can have dinner together later, too, if you’d like.
I promised Ezra I would help him with Margo’s studies this afternoon, but I’d love to meet with you again later,” I said as we exited the infirmary, keeping my voice light.
I didn’t want her to know that my nerves were eating me alive trying to figure out what I was missing and why she appeared so unhappy.
I could’ve sworn I saw Aurora’s bottom lip quiver as I spoke, but when I glanced her way, her lips were tightly pressed together. And when she responded, her voice was clear.
“I’ll consider it. You’ve given me a lot to think about today, Viva.”
I frowned slightly at the lack of a solid answer, but nodded as we walked until we stepped outside into the sunlight.
The sky above was a soft, midday blue and speckled with white, puffy clouds.
There were guards milling about, though when they caught sight of me, they quickly found themselves occupied.
It was almost enough to bring a smile to my face.
Almost.
“Ready to get up there?” I asked, still peering up at the sky.
“Beat you to it,” Aurora said, and when I turned back to face her, her feet were already off the ground as she hovered about twice my height in the air, her wings pumping steadily.