Chapter 64
—Kienna—
Tristian waited outside of Trinity, hands tucked by his belt, watching as Kienna and Connak approached. His face dropped at the sight of blood. “What happened?” His voice came in loud—too loud for the muddled world around her.
Connak blinked, releasing a deep breath.
Kienna heard him just as she heard the swaying of leaves.
Ruva’s whining and lolling. She heard everything around her but her own heart beating.
She moved slowly, nearly walking through Tristian like a ghost, her face streaked with dried tears and her body weak from the toll of magic.
Her hands shook. Her fingers fidgeted against the beaded rings, sending her mind spiraling again.
Ruva licked Kienna’s hands. Kienna pulled away.
She didn’t want comfort. She only wanted Danek, and she couldn’t have that anymore.
“She should sleep,” Connak said with an edge.
It all came in a rushing wave, loud sights and sounds overwhelming Kienna’s mind.
“We should try to get a briefing in while it’s still fresh,” Tristian said, reaching for Kienna.
“That’s not a good idea—”
“Danek is dead,” Kienna interrupted, staring blankly into the trees.
The forest stilled with the news flowing off her tongue.
It drifted in the wind. As the words traveled through echoes, the flowers drooped.
And then she let out a desperate, airy laugh.
“M’Ran is gone. Vaerin can conjure himself in places.
None of us can kill him. We’re all fucked. ”
Tristian stepped toward her, brows furrowed.
Connak placed his hands hard onto the High Commander’s chest, silver shimmering from his palms.
They stared at each other, daring the other to make a move.
Tristian stepped back.
Kienna stared idly between them, never looking directly at them.
She could barely see anything as the trees blurred together and her heart clenched in frustration.
These two men—bound to her for who knows why—were useless when she needed them.
Connak pulled back from the king and hesitated.
Tristian… He was never there anyway. Useless.
Let me help you, Ruva cried, nipping at her hands again.
Kienna took a slow breath, the scent of rain building in the sky.
It brought her no comfort. Who was going to tell Moira?
Kienna closed her eyes, searching for Danek’s warmth, for the fireflies he would conjure to light their way.
Memories of their life together flooded her.
The way he lingered in training back in River Storm.
The way he insisted on healing every minor wound.
She found him annoying then, but now, she longed for his voice.
She hated their last conversation. The talk of love. How she never said it in time for it to mean anything to him. Another tear slipped down her cheek, splashing the ground with drops from the clouds.
“I need to be there when you retrieve his body,” she said, turning toward Trinity. She didn’t wait for them to open the wards. She blew them open herself and walked away, the magical barrier repairing itself once again as she disappeared.
—Broan—
Broan hovered over Danek’s body. He insisted he retrieve him.
Hollowness curled into rage. He didn’t know how else to feel but angry.
When he escorted Baila back to Trinity, he almost killed her.
Threw her into the trees and told her it was by the good graces of Danek that he let her breathe the same fucking air.
He would have been justified if he slit her throat right there. Yet he turned her over to the Elvish.
“Brother,” he whispered over Danek as the Elvish soldiers stepped up to take him.
Kienna stood stoically behind Broan, staring into the depths of Danak’s body.
Her wolf whimpered next to her, both desperately and quietly searching for any hint of his soul lingering.
The quivering of Kienna’s lips nearly sent Broan over the edge himself.
He held it together through the lifting of Danek onto the long plank of wood woven from the finest trees of the forest.
They carried him through the rubble, stepping carefully over broken pillars of rock and uprooted trees. Even the Elvish seemed disturbed by the sight of destruction. It extended over the entire forest of M’Ran. Broan looked where Danek once lay, the only place preserved amidst the wreckage.
As they took him, an ache consumed Broan to retreat to the mountains and never return.
He had no other reason to spend his time with the Elvish folk, aside from the pesky alliance they begged him to negotiate with the Vikings.
Now, he didn’t even want that. Though as he considered leaving, Danek continued to sit heavily on his chest.
Broan gazed at Kienna. With Danek gone, Broan remained as the last Guardian still standing as a viable ally who understood the deepest trenches of River Storm.
Kienna had Connak, sure, but Connak didn’t live in the grasp of Vaerin’s tyranny like they did.
Danek wouldn’t want Kienna to be alone. So desperately in love with her, he followed her to the bitter end.
He cursed Danek for leaving him with such a responsibility, to Kienna of all people.
It was a sick joke to put them together, but it also felt annoyingly right.
So, Broan waited in M’Ran as Kienna’s hollow form stared where Danek’s body used to be.
His blood stained the stone, the only hint of his life left.
Hours passed before Kienna walked toward him.
She was a phantom, blankly walking away from the city.
He couldn’t tell if she even saw him, but Ruva softly nuzzled his hand after she cleared his path.
Broan grazed the wolf’s fur, sparked back to his own thoughts of purpose, riddled with despair, and trailed Kienna to ensure she made it back to Trinity.
—Kienna—
The Hollow Blades arrived from the Malintale Forest. Elvish soldiers swarmed the outskirts of the city to pay respect to Danek’s life. The Guardian’s touch through the Elvish world was that of light, full of desire to help, and show them peace that could be—even as a child raised by Vaerin.
They placed Danek in a Rootwoven Cradle. Connak told her it was a coffin made from braided roots and saplings to feed the earth and strengthen the magic of the forest. As his body returned to the soil, the cradle’s roots would weave deeper, carrying his spirit into the heart of the tree.
Kienna stared at Danek’s face, devoid of any color.
No hint of life remained, but her heart still beat for him.
She hadn’t slept since Danek was last in her arms. Her eyes fell on Moira.
She stood on the other side of the clearing with Rhior.
Moira’s eyes swelled with red. Kienna envied her because she couldn’t find it inside herself to cry anymore.
Hints of water would surface at the edge of her eyes only to dry with the heat of rage.
The funeral was a true soldier’s funeral, with the Elvish army circling the coffin.
Tristian recited an Elvish prayer at the front of the ceremony, blessing the body that would soon feed the earth.
Kienna waited for the rite of passage. When it didn’t happen, she turned to an Elvish soldier next to her. “When do we do the Bow of the Bough?”
“We don’t,” he whispered back, eyes remorseful. “That is meant for our high-ranked soldiers and their families.”
Kienna’s soul iced over. Not to get a sendoff to the magical islands pricked at Kienna’s heart.
She was certain she’d be given a ceremony, despite not wanting it.
Danek deserved it more than any of them.
She looked to Tristian and Connak performing military rituals that meant nothing.
As they went to lower his body into the earth, Kienna clawed her way forward. “Stop! He gave you everything!”
Disgust overpowered her. Danek offered his life every single day since they entered Trinity to protect these soldiers. He gave his body and his magic time and time again and didn’t even question their intent, and they didn’t bother to give him the rituals of honor he deserved.
Tristian breathed lightly, his attention shifting behind her. Shifting to the queen standing far away from them. “There are customs—”
“Fuck your customs. He gave you everything.” Kienna reached forward and grabbed hold of Tristian’s sword, a motion she expected pushback for, but he moved his hand to give her a better grasp.
She angrily scanned the crowd, tears finally welling deep into her eyes, a painful twist surging in her throat.
This ceremony was only performed once in front of her.
She knew she wouldn’t do it justice, but she couldn’t let Danek’s death be shrouded by antiquated customs of not honoring those who died, regardless of their stature.
No matter what she believed, if there was a chance Danek could be given to the Eternal Mother, she’d do anything to give it to him.
He needed to be somewhere that gave Kienna hope to feel the remnants of his warmth one day.
Kienna raised her hand to the sky, fingers spread wide in offering to the islands.
She hoped that Danek’s soul would find the island he brought her to.
He deserved to grow there. The crowd stared at her, but Broan didn’t hesitate.
He followed suit and lifted his hand, Moira joining in shortly.
She stepped forward to stand with them. Connak placed his high for the heavens.
One by one, the rest of the Elvish raised their hands to offer Danek’s soul.
A single tear dropped from Kienna’s cheek.
She held the stolen sword and slammed it into the soil.
There was no ring of metal this time as the weapons hit the soft earth, but everyone who had a blade or bow of sorts repeated the same motion alongside her in silence.