Chapter 47 #2
Kienna picked at wood with a blade outside the healing room. They refused to offer a knife, so she bargained with a soldier passing by. She had nothing to offer him in return, though he said she could give him whatever she carved the next time they saw each other.
Looking at the carving in her hands now, she didn’t think he would want it.
She caught the likeness of Ash in the grooves.
Her mind trailed to him often, wishing she had said more to him, heard more of what he would have to tell her.
It was him all along, the one that Maren wanted her to find.
But how did Maren know Ash? She told Kienna to find him, that he had a letter for her.
Ash never gave Kienna a letter. What was she missing?
Tristian’s words rang in her mind while she watched the light peering through canopies like a ghost. They were all ghosts in their own ways, walking through walls, haunted by the war or haunting each other.
Kienna paused mid-carve, her blade trembling at the edge of a familiar curve.
The light shifting through the leaves cast faint flickers across the ground.
Connak stood a short distance away, partially cloaked in dappled light.
His silhouette was softened by the canopy above, not quite returned from the place grief had taken him.
His arms hung at his sides, shoulders rigid, but his expression was blank.
Maybe worn, or hollow, but trying desperately not to be.
He sat next to her on the ground, and they let a beat of silence pass between them.
Like souls that wandered too far from the living but weren’t quite ready to be gone.
“I don’t blame you.” Connak waved his hand over his tired eyes, keeping his gaze from hers. “I did at first, but we all had choices, and it was ours to make to fight this war early with River Storm.”
“I’m not worth a war.” Kienna sighed, remembering back to a time when she met Connak in her mind.
It was back in River Storm, before she knew the world out here existed, and that an entire group of people rallied to fight.
He told her they were coming for her, and she didn’t feel like anyone then.
Now, she had more history, and she knew the division that separated this realm.
Yet she was tainted by her own kinship. She couldn’t keep anyone safe.
Connak took her hand. “I think Vaerin fears you.”
Kienna turned her head and stared at the ground. “Vaerin controls me.”
“You were strong enough to push against him. You’re a lot stronger than the King of River Storm, and he’s doing whatever he can to make sure you don’t realize that.”
“I would not go that far.” Kienna ran her fingers along her charm.
Her old one couldn’t be found in the ruins of Dove Port.
The new one was an earthy, handcrafted piece made of braided brown cord, knotted in a macrame style to cradle three polished, honey-yellow stones.
Beads in shades of green and pale white were attached at intervals, shaped like delicate leaves and blossoms. Kienna thought back to the moments she took her old charm off.
How Vaerin’s dark magic flooded through her each time she did.
His darkness created the buzzing in her veins that became too loud to focus.
She spent her whole life fighting against that feeling.
“I need more answers than you’re giving me. I deserve to know who you think I am.”
Connak’s eyes drifted into the shadows, almost as if he was waiting to see his friend peering around, listening.
The emptiness of Tislin’s presence left a weight between them.
“You’re right. It’s not that we don’t want you to know certain things.
We don’t know everything ourselves, and what we do know has cost a lot of people their lives. If Elira found out—”
“What does the Elvish queen have against me?”
“Everything,” Connak whispered. “I am giving you what I can. I swear.” He gripped her hand tighter.
“I know how frustrating it is. I spent years getting the knowledge myself, and it was not from the Elvish. I bartered a lot with remarkably questionable creatures. It’s just…
” He stared at her intently, begging her with his gaze.
“The Elvish Accords have bound us. Until you choose your path on your own, I can’t tell you anything.
The minute I do, the Accords will dissolve and…
” More urgently, Connak pleaded, “I need you to trust me. I am always on your side.”
“Tristian wants me to be the Ashborn Queen. I can’t give him what he wants if I don’t know what it means.” Kienna glanced out of the corner of her eye to prepare for another lecture and breakdown from Connak.
He softened. “Do you regret coming with me?”
“I chose to come here, Connak.” She sighed, weary from the months of unexpected worlds waiting beyond River Storm.
She thought back to her conversations with him in her mind when she lay in her room at River Storm, painting worlds and imagining a life that didn’t involve tyranny or control.
She closed her eyes, feeling the weight of it all.
“You spent a lot of time promising me a new world, and you brought me to it. I don’t regret it in the slightest. But you also withheld a lot of your expectations of me when we got out. ”
“What expectations are on your shoulders that you can’t meet?” Connak asked.
“The Elvish expect me to be Kalyra. Tristian wants me to be the Ashborn. I don’t know who any of those people are.” She paused to put more of her feelings into words. “I’m not pulling away, but your promises missed a lot of details. It doesn’t feel fair.”
“You’re right.” Connak shifted his body to face her. “It isn’t fair. I’m sorry I misled you. I’m sorry I hurt you. That I couldn’t be the one to spark you back to life. But we are here. Now. We need to figure out how to move on and live through it.”
The seriousness of Connak’s words dug a heel into Kienna’s already bruised chest. She felt pride in the small feat she accomplished in the barricades.
Guilt from lost lives and pain. And a twinge of fear knowing she would have to stand in front of a cold and overbearing council that would cast judgments on her.
Connak scooted closer, resting his arms over his knees with a wary exhale. “Tislin would’ve known what to say,” he muttered, voice dry. “He studied prophecies and history to find his way around the Accords.”
Kienna thought back to all her interactions with the elusive Shadowmaster. Everything he said was so formal, and he loved the lore of the world. Her eyes fell, brimming with tears.
“He’d probably scold me for sulking this long. Or throw an acorn at my head.” Connak looked sideways at Kienna, attempting a smirk, but the gleam in his eyes didn’t quite reach. The smile faded as quickly as it came.
“Can you at least help me understand Tristian?” Kienna asked. She didn’t expect an answer, but she needed to ask it. “He’s there all the time, pushing me into this. I don’t understand what he gains from all of it.”