Chapter 24
Twenty - Four
Finn
With the cold in full swing, I cover all my plants to keep them protected throughout the winter months.
I've harvested every herb and vegetable I can utilize until the spring months when my plants come back alive.
I don't particularly care for the cold season.
My garden is depressing and void of life.
My hands almost lack a purpose. But it's in these winter months I create most of my balms and ointments and lotions for the following year.
Typically, Eris helps me with the winter prep, but she was called to the castle to give my uncle and cousin the rundown on Hydran royalty.
I've been having nightmares that her identity will be discovered, that my disimulo will fail her when she needs it most, but I have to thrust those fears to the back of my mind and bury myself in my work.
Eris will be fine.
I will be fine.
There's a season for everything. And like my plants, I'll adjust.
Finished with my end-of-year routine, I walk through the back doors into the kitchen with a basket full of goods. I'm so focused on getting to the butcherblock island to cut and organize my herbs that I don't realize I'm not alone.
Slight movement to my left draws my attention. Thrane leans against the cabinets, his unexpected and uninvited presence startling me.
"I've given your magic quite a bit of thought and I believe I can help you," Thrane forgoes formal greetings and skips right to his point. Which isn't welcome.
I frown, closing the door behind me. "What the hell are you doing in my kitchen? Shouldn't you be out terrorizing Atlas or something?"
"Lessons are over for today," Thrane tosses one of the grapes on the butcherblock island into his mouth, so I move the bowl out of his reach. He smirks. "Aurelia let me in. Are you going to continue dancing around the real reason for my visit? If so, I have all night to stick around."
"You shouldn't be here," I whisper harshly, praying no one comes in to find two of the most unlikely people talking.
"Dancing it is," Thrane rolls up his sleeves and stands beside me. "What do you need help with?"
"What?"
"If I am going to be in the kitchen for Stars knows how long until you acknowledge what I'm here to discuss, I might as well help you prepare dinner or whatever it is you're doing."
I roll my eyes, continuing to tear herbs off their stems. "There's nothing to discuss."
"You haven't even allowed me to explain."
I sigh. "You're not going to leave me alone are you?"
Thrane smiles and it's severely off-putting. "No."
"Fine," I grumble and shove a yellow onion into his hand. "You can cut the onions."
The Frost Elf groans, "Not the onions. They sting my eyes."
"How tragic," I place a knife and empty bowl in front of him. "You offered to help."
"I'll chop your onions if you listen to me," Thrane wiggles his agenda in. "Deal?"
I shouldn't agree. I have no real need to listen to whatever wild idea he's come up with, but my curiosity gets the better of me. "Fine."
"I must admit, you had me puzzled. But when I was dying at the Northern Crest – "
"You were dying?" My eyes widen.
"It's impolite to interrupt," he wags his knife at me.
"But yes. Aurelia patched me up. Now, as I was saying.
While I was dying, experiencing excruciating pain, I wondered what it would feel like if I could pass peacefully.
Then it hit me." He stops chopping, his grey eyes already bloodshot from the onions, and stares at me.
"Have you considered you're not a pain inflictor? "
I slam my hand down on the counter, frustration overtaking me. "You saw for yourself what my magic is capable of," I hiss lowly. "You might be worse than the professors who were tasked with training me. At least they didn't question my – "
Thrane holds up a hand, matching my tone with an equally irritated one of his own. "Excuse me, but you didn't let me finish."
I tilt my head up toward the ceiling and motion for him to continue. "Go on."
"Thank you." He returns to his task. "What if you didn't just inflict pain. What if you controlled pain as well?"
"Are you daft? Of course, I control pain."
"Yes, we understand that. I'm not talking about infliction. What if you also absorb pain?" There's a sudden excitement in Thrane's voice that catches me off guard. "You see, I've taken it upon myself to read all the files about you."
"How did you get those files? They're sealed."
"Sealed, certainly." Thrane grins. "But I have connections, you see."
"Listen – "
"The problem was, none of your so-called professors actually helped you learn what you were truly capable of, Finn.
At worst, they saw you as dangerous. At best, a weapon to be used.
" His hand stills and he squares his shoulders to mine.
"If there's a chance you can also ease suffering, would you be willing to learn to use it? "
This is the moment where all hope from his grand idea is ripped from under me. Wouldn't I have shown signs of absorbing pain earlier? This is all a waste of my time and in the end, I'm the one who will be suffering when I realize there is no hope for me. "Why are you doing this?"
"Your predecessors failed you when you needed them most. I'd like to rectify that."
"I'm not your problem to fix."
"Fix?" His eyes widen. "My dear Tronovian, you don't need fixing. You need fine tuning. Guidance to reach your full potential."
"Which is a fancy way to say fix," I gripe, mixing fresh herbs into my bread dough.
"Out of all the Harland brothers, I figured you to be the optimist." Thrane shakes his head, clicking his tongue. "I suppose that means Nyx is the positive thinker. What a truly scary thought."
"Ok," I relent. "Let's say for argument's sake you're right and I have the ability to inflict and absorb pain.
You said it yourself. You read my file. There's no evidence of that being a possibility.
" When he remains silent and merely stares at me, I busy my hands with rolling my dough.
"You shouldn't be trying to help me. You should be frightened of me.
What I can do with little more effort than breathing in your direction. "
"No, what I've learned from my reading was you and your brothers were mistreated.
You were feared. You were ostracized. Yet, you were expected to perform when called upon.
What happened to you three in your youth is unforgiveable.
I cannot change the past. I am well aware I'm taking on enough responsibility in training Atlas to ride Vidarr and Nyx would rather pluck out his eyes than listen to me.
But you – I feel as if I can truly help you. "
What if he's right? What if he can help me?
I should shoo him out of the kitchen and run him out of the house, but instead I find myself asking, "How would we even start?"
Thrane appears triumphant but keeps himself steady as if he's trying not to spook me into changing my mind. "By inflicting pain. On me."
"But – "
"Inflict pain in order to relieve it."
"As much as I might like to, I'm not going to hurt you."
"Well, if you won't, I will." Thrane grabs the knife and stabs himself in the thigh.
"What the fuck?" I yell as he falls to the floor.
Thrane screams from the pain, but through gritted teeth manages to grind out, "Absorb the pain."
"I can't – "
"Shut up and try!" Thrane leans his head against the cabinet, breathing in and out rhythmically. Blood is pouring out onto the kitchen floor and rather than panicking, I do as he commands and try, although I'm not sure what exactly I'm trying to do.
I press my hand to his leg and reach deep down into my soul searching for my magic. It's angry. A storm wanting to inflict more pain. But deep down, there's a warmth. A hope. A need to heal. Once I find it, I reach for that hope. It's then I realize Thrane's screams and groans have stopped.
I open my eyes. The injury is still there, but his pain is gone.
"Stars above, it worked," Thrane whispers, exhausted.
"You look surprised." My eyes widen. "Why do you look surprised? Did you stab yourself knowing there'd be a chance you were wrong?"
Thrane chuckles and resituates his body so he's sitting upright. "Sometimes you have to risk everything to discover the truth."
"You're fucking insane."
"I will admit, I wasn't expecting that response." Thrane winces when I remove the knife and press a towel to his wound.
"Hold this. I am going to get my supplies to stitch you up."
"Or," Thrane holds up a finger, "you could run upstairs and fetch Aurelia. I'm sure she can use more practice with her healing abilities."
I stand from my crouched position and shake my head as I make my way to the door. "We should have started with a smaller exercise to test your theory. Now I have blood all over my kitchen."
"If I hadn't been extreme, you might not have performed under pressure." Thrane points out, pressing the rag to his thigh. "Which I appreciate, by the way. That hurt like hell."
"Is this how you're teaching Shaye to use her healing magic?" I scoff. "It's a wonder you're not scarred head to toe."
"I may be extreme in my methods, but I produce results."
"I respect the method to your madness, but you're still insane."
"Maybe so," he nods and motions to the door. "If you would be so kind. Aurelia?"
Shit.
I beeline up the stairs to Atlas and Shaye's bedroom and knock like a wild man. Atlas peels the door open, his eyes silently cursing my interruption, but when I blurt, "Thrane needs you. He stabbed himself." Shaye leaps from the bed and sprints down the stairs before I can say more.
Atlas and I are hot on her heels as we head to the lowest level of the row house.
Shaye stampedes into the kitchen to find Thrane in the same spot I left him.
"Shit!" She drops to her knees in front of him, moving the towel to see the damage. Her eyes dart to the bloody butcher knife and searches my gaze for answers. "What the hell happened?"
"I was chopping onions and had a bit of an accident," Thrane fudges the truth.
"You stabbed yourself while cutting onions?" Shaye's brows raise, anger clear in her tone.
"This is probably why I never venture to the kitchens in Stelara." He continues with the charade while Atlas and I exchange a look.
"You're lying to me," she frowns.
Thrane clicks his teeth. "You don't need to know everything, Aurelia. It isn't your business."
"But healing you is?"
"Now you're catching on."
Shaye rolls her eyes and presses her hand to Thrane's leg. Within seconds, his wound heals.
"You're getting better," Thrane praises. "And faster."
"Next time," she stands and offers Thrane a helping hand. "I will want answers."
Thrane doesn't accept the aid, and hops to his feet as if he wasn't just bleeding all over the floor.
"Next time, I might be inclined to give them.
" He trots to the door, bobbing his head at Atlas on his way.
"I will see you bright and early for training, Atlas.
And Aurelia, I expect to see you at Draakstan as well. Goodnight."
Without any further explanation or pleasantries, the Frost Elf King walks out the front door.
For several agonizing seconds, we all stand in complete and utterly confused silence.
"So… cutting onions?" Shaye asks me, but I'm not ready to tell her or Atlas the truth.
"What can I say?" I shrug. "He's odd."
"Odd?" Atlas croaks. "Odd is how we describe quirky old ladies who knit sweaters for their pets. Thrane is nothing short of a maniac."
He's not wrong.
"Well," I wipe my hands on my apron. "I suppose I'll clean the mess and then make dinner."
Shaye grabs my forearm and grimaces. "I'll help you clean, but I think we should go out for dinner tonight."
For once, I don't argue.