22. For the Little Guys
For the Little Guys
Aradia
She didn’t know how long she had helped with bandages, cuts, surgeries, or stitches.
All the while her voice rose throughout the tent, calming each person, magi and healer alike.
Only when her back throbbed, and her knuckles were raw from the washing of clean bandages did she step out to take a quick break.
The screeching had stopped; the battle was over. Night had fallen and they had survived.
Although nothing about the sight in front of her looked, let alone felt, like a victory.
The toll on both humans and nature was devastating.
It would take years, possibly longer, for the grass to grow green where black blood soaked into the ground and roots of trees.
Castle rubble replaced strong walls. Her heart ached for the people of Vidrena as she observed them cry over the loss of their livelihoods and loved ones.
Carts, homes, taverns, buildings destroyed.
Whether it be from the siege or the recent battle, it mattered little.
She turned away from the sight, forcing herself to return to the tent where the chance to live was still being battled.
“Aradia.” Quinn’s familiar voice was weak as he called from the entrance.
She turned with dread, searching for him. One arm was slung over a soldier as he was half dragged toward the healers. Aradia bit down her scream.
“Gods! What happened?” She rushed to his side, sliding underneath his free arm. They limped toward the closest cot before Quinn collapsed, his breathing labored. Blood gushed from a wound beginning at his left knee. His boot was shredded. as if a claw swiped right through it down to his ankle.
Tears stung her eyes as she stared at the mess of cloth bandaged tightly around his calf. “What happened?”
Quinn groaned as a magi lifted his legs and secured it in a leg strap. “Cahira.” He barked her name. “Saved me.”
“Don’t speak, conserve your strength.” The magi poured violet liquid down Quinn’s throat. A medicine she had watched her inject into every sick and hurting casualty.
“Monster tried to kill —”
“Shh.” Aradia dampened a cloth with water. She cleansed the gore and sweat from his face and chest, down to his arms and mud-encrusted fingernails.
The magi cut the makeshift bandage from his legs and Aradia winced at the loose skin that pulled away. She glanced at Quinn whose face was wet with tears.
“When will the medicine kick in?” she asked.
The magi made quick work. “Any minute now.” She didn’t bother looking up as she washed and disinfected Quinn’s wounds. “Hold him down. This will burn.”
Aradia bit her lip to keep the sob from breaking out as she held Quinn’s shoulders down. His wail of pain filled the tent, mixing with all the others, but cut twice as deep within her heart. Tears streaked down her face as she watched and could offer very little comfort.
“Oh gods, this is my fault. I’m so sorry. I should have listened to you,” she whispered. “We should have returned to Gail when we had the chance.”
Quinn shook his head violently as if disagreeing. He shook so hard she worried it was more from the pain until his body relaxed and head lolled to the side.
“What’s happening to him?”
“Don’t fret girl. He’s just passed out from the pain. He’ll be back in no time.” The magi finished sewing stitches that ran in two diagonal lines from his kneecap to his ankle. She wrapped it in clean bandages and positioned a pillow behind his leg. “Let him rest.”
The magi’s skin gleamed with sweat in the candlelight, the dark hue a contrast to the yellow swath of her head covering.
Aradia hadn’t seen her stop since Rhydar had directed her to the tent.
Still, the healer packed her tools and moved to the next patient moaning in pain.
Aradia returned her attention to Quinn. Unconscious he looked at peace.
A small respite. He wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for her.
If he hadn’t come looking for her, he would be safe in Gail, where he belonged.
Not laid up on a scratchy cot, surrounded by dying strangers, and fighting in a battle which had nothing to do with him.
Aradia gripped his hand in hers. The knowledge of what she must do broke her heart.
Quinn stirred at her touch, eyelids fluttering open, but glazed from the liquid medicine.
“Hi,” he whispered.
Her vision blurred and she sniffed in relief. “Hi.”
He attempted a smile but his features tightened in pain.
Aradia sucked in a breath. Better to rip the bandage off now. “Quinn. You have to go home.”
Quinn’s brows scrunched in confusion. “No. I’m not leaving you with these killers.”
“Please, don’t.” She shook her head. “Look at you. You’re hurt because of me. We’re here because of me and this is not where you belong.”
He squinted as if trying to understand why she was pushing him away but he chose to remain quiet. She took the moment to continue.
“What if it’s not your leg next time. It could have been your head or your heart. Anything could happen to you. You don’t have magic to heal yourself or aid in danger.”
“Oh, and you do?” He asked, the hurt edging into his voice.
“Yes, actually.”
“You don't even know how to use it.”
Aradia sighed. “That’s not the point.”
He groaned trying to sit up and make a point, but she pushed him back.
“This is serious.”
“It’s only my leg.” Quinn huffed a half-hearted smile.
“This can’t happen again. I won’t watch you die trying to prove yourself, least of all to me.”
“I’m not —”
Yes, you are. I know that you …” Aradia hesitated, face warming.
He brushed a finger down the side of her cheek tenderly, “know that I what?”
“I know that you love me,” she whispered.
The fervor in his eyes had nothing to do with his incoming fever. Tears slipped down his cheeks and Aradia slid closer, wiping them away with her thumbs.
“Finally.” He sighed. “At least now you’re acknowledging it.”
Aradia stifled her laugh. He could be close to death and still draw a smile out of her. The thought sobered her when she saw his arms shake violently as he pushed himself up in a seated position.
“A part of me has always known,” she said.
“I loved you ever since we ran into each other and I dumped your breadbasket ten years ago.” Quinn’s breath turned labored, then rattled into a coughing fit. “How could I not have? You are everything I could ever want.”
Aradia shook her head against the hope blooming in his face as he professed the truth.
“I-I can’t, Quinn. I’m so sorry.”
“Can’t what?”
“I can’t love you.” Aradia let her sob escape. Her tears fell freely, splattering on their joined hands.
“But,” he licked his cracked lip, “you do love me.”
“Of course, I do. You are everything to me … just —” Aradia squeezed his hand. “Not in the way you want me to and certainly not in the way you deserve.”
Quinn was silent for longer than she could bear. His touch was so tender as he wiped her tears and squeezed her hand weakly. “I know.”
It was a soft answer. The truth he had been too afraid to speak for years. To say it aloud was to finally let his hopes go, yet that is what he did — for her.
“I guess, I’ve always known that too,” he said.
Aradia’s heart couldn’t bear the disappointment leaching into his voice. She crushed him in a hug, careful of his leg.
“I do love you, Quinn. I will always have you in my heart. But I can’t be the person you want me to be. I can’t pretend to go back to the way things were. You’ve seen what’s happening, and this journey is mine and mine alone. I will not lose you to the perils of my life. You mean too much.”
Quinn’s head rubbed against her shoulder as he nodded slowly. “Stay with me. Just for a little bit.” He leaned back into the flat pillow and closed his eyes. The tightness of his grip never relented within hers. “It won’t be long now, sleep is coming.”
Aradia fluffed the pillow beneath his knee the best she could before settling beside him.
She pushed the damp curls away from his forehead, cementing his features into memory.
Wherever she went, his face would follow.
His guidance and safety she had relied on for years would no longer be a steady companion.
Allowing Quinn to continue on with her would only be a disservice.
Especially when she could not promise him the safety he freely gave her.
The creeping feeling of being trapped slid through her mind and chilled her bones, making her shiver amidst the sweltering heat of the tent.
She pushed the nightmare of her mother’s death far from her mind.
They had been trapped once before, and her mother had paid for it with her life.
Aradia had vowed long ago to never let herself fall into the same situation.
Even if it had meant a lifetime of hiding and lying to herself.
The saints had sent warnings, but she had blocked it off; too afraid that if she accepted their help, they would tear her away from everything she knew and built.
They would cast her on a perilous journey to ensure Peraynia had a future.
She now knew that in order to save herself from being hunted, she had to first save the realm.
“Will you be here when I wake?” Quinn’s voice was meager, the magic pulling him into a deep slumber.
Aradia squeezed his hand tightly before kissing his forehead. “No.”
Quinn sighed as if finally letting go of an imaginary weight. “Stay safe, Aradia.” He slipped off into a heavy sleep.
Aradia wiped her tears but remained by his side, providing comfort and care when the flies buzzed around the sick and wounded, or his tunic needed to be changed from the fever-induced sweats.
The night drew long and it was only when the sun peeked over the mountain ridges, casting rays of light into the tent, did she slip away for a moment of solitude.
“Was it your first time?” The magi who had ordered her around joined her, looking out amongst the city.
Aradia blinked but raised a brow in question.
“Being with the magi and healers.”
“That obvious, huh?”
She smiled and pinched two fingers close together. “Just a little bit.”
“My mother was a magi, but I’ve never seen her work to the extent of,” Aradia waved her hand around them, “this.”
“When the blood washes away and the walls are rebuilt, people will remember the heroic warriors who saved Vidrena from the creatures of darkness.” The magi sighed.
“No one remembers the men and women who are responsible for stitching the people together, for healing their hearts and lands. No one remembers the little guys.”
Against her better judgment, her eyes wandered as she searched for Cahira.
She watched soldiers limp back from the battlefield beyond the wall, broken and frayed.
“I suppose we all deserve our own chapter in history. Our own story to tell,” she said quietly.
“You’re right.” The magi nodded, looking at Aradia with interest before heaving a sigh. “I get so frustrated when my one calling is to heal and protect, but I’ve been fixing broken people my entire life. My heart calls for peace — a wholeness, which cannot be found within this realm.”
It was Aradia’s turn to look at the magi with curiosity.
Underneath the skill and the focus of a healer in action she was awfully young to be in the heat of battle.
Then again, the war had shortened many childhoods throughout Peraynia.
She herself had to grow up quickly when her mother was murdered.
The magi in front of her was proof the war had forced an entire generation out of an early childhood
“I didn’t catch your name,” Aradia said, turning with her arm out in an awkward attempt to shake hands.
The magi arched a brow, a small smile pulled at the corner of her lips.
“Cyrene.” She grasped Aradia’s hand and shook it once before letting go. “Yours?”
Names shot through her mind in seconds.
“Uhhh,” she stuttered.
“You’ve forgotten your name?” Cyrene laughed. “Perhaps it’s you who needs to be checked out instead.
“Aradia. My name is Aradia.” She tried to gulp the anxiety down at the use of her true name.
Cyrene smiled. “Well thank you, Aradia. We can always use good help if you are staying in Vidrena.”
She shook her head. “Actually, I’m just passing through.”
Her gaze once again cut through the crowd of people milling throughout the courtyards.
“Ah, of course, you’re looking for someone?” Cyrene followed her line of sight.
“Not anymore,” she muttered bitterly.
“As long as they’re not next to the young man already in there, then there’s hope.” Cyrene patted her back in comfort, but Aradia only felt anxiety creep up her spine.
A crowd from the southern gates began conjugating toward the square. The hum of chatter and curiosity combed through the upper city as people began to move in masses toward the first walls of the lower city. Aradia reached for a woman who was following the crowd.
“Excuse me, what’s going on?”
“The Prince of Arkan has called everyone to the square for a declaration,” the woman said.
Aradia’s heart dropped.
It was time to go.
She turned but was pushed into the crowd moving toward the square and closer to the prince.
She knew Cahira wouldn’t be far away from her brother and Aradia didn’t trust her backstabbing group of rebels.
She scoffed at Cahira’s words earlier: individuals who have the power to stop the war.
Her family was the one who started the gods-be-damned war in the first place.
She tried to cover herself best she could, but she had left her cloak in the medic tent.
The cloud of people swarming the city and circling the stone dais in the middle of the square was beyond overwhelming.
She found a small corner next to a home to squeeze into.
She stepped on a turned barrel, elevating herself higher than the throng of people in front of her.
Within the shadows she waited. It wasn’t long before a man she did not recognize, but was shielded in silver, stepped up to the dais.
He pulled off his helmet, revealing skin two shades darker than her own.
Weariness, or perhaps pain, pulled at the corner of his brows, forcing his handsome features into a scowl.
“I present to you Kaiden Valencia, third of his name, first-born son of Aramis and Viviana Valencia, grandson to the Great Tenebris, High King of Peraynia, Defender of the Southern Dunes, Lord of Windshire Castle, Savior of the Second War, and Crown Prince of Arkan.”
Aradia scoffed even as her heart beat faster with the naming of each ridiculous title.
A figure stepped onto the platform and faced the crowd.
His golden armor was splattered with a mixture of red and black blood.
Her stomach dipped at the uncanny resemblance to the man in her dream as he removed his helmet.
A hush fell over the crowd like a phantom wind.
Her magic stirred deep within her and her gaze froze on the Prince of Arkan.