11. Kyros #2
“Aye, you did.” Kaeleith extends her knobby fingers out in a gesture for Astraea to come to her.
Astraea gives me an apprehensive look as she takes a step closer.
Kaeleith wraps her arm around Astraea’s back and pulls her in close as she starts toward the cabin.
The old woman loudly whispers. “Men are obvious creatures, are they not?” She wryly looks back to where I’m crouched down at the discarded basket of food and herbs.
I try to balance everything I have—weapons, two bags, and now her items—and she chuckles. My eyes narrow on the dweller.
“It’s very nice to meet you. This is a lovely cabin you have.
” I hear Astraea say as she helps Kaeleith through the door.
I know the dweller does not need assistance in any way.
Though she may look old and feeble, she is in no way unable.
She has taught me, Mavros, and the others many of the things we know about survival.
I think she even trained with Shayd for a while, if I’m not mistaken.
She is also one of the only other people I have ever trusted with my secrets.
Some of them, anyway. Though I think she may know more than she lets on about most things.
Ducking through the entry, I close the door behind me and discard the garden pickings on the large wood table in the center of the space.
A fire burns in the stone-lined fireplace, and just as I knew there would be, a cauldron bubbles and churns over an open flame.
Astraea’s eyes dance around the eclectic place with unabashed awe as Kaeleith guides her to sit at one of the high-back chairs.
The sitting room faces the one large window that supplies almost all of the light in the living area, apart from the fire and numerous candles that flicker an orange glow.
It’s the view beyond the window that has Astraea’s lips parting in awe.
“Halcyon Ridge.” I say as I curl my fingers along the top of the chair.
She doesn’t peel her eyes from the glass pane, though.
Kaeleith hobbles around the den gathering dishes and an assortment of bunched herbs, dry bread, and cheese before placing them down on the table that sits in front of Astraea.
“You must be hungry after such a long journey. The supper is still cooking, but I brought you some tea and something to hold you over until the real meal. I’ve been expecting you.
” She turns on her heel before shuffling off toward the fire and whatever food she has cooking there without an opportunity for argument. Of course she has…
I have never felt more awkward or out of place than I do in this moment.
I want to talk to Astraea about so many things, but I can’t seem to find the right way to bring any of it up.
Every attempt I have made has been interrupted, or I’ve ruined it somehow.
I'm clearly good at that. I shift my weight on my feet, and Astraea looks up at me.
“You can sit too, Kyros.” She says before taking a tentative drink from the cup she holds close to her face.
The steam swirls through the air in front of her nose, and she melts a little into the chair as she tastes it.
I clear my throat as I make my way around to the other chair.
I can sense Kaeleith’s eyes following me.
I’ve always thought she was not able to see through her clouded eyes, but the way she always seems to know everything that is happening around her feels clairvoyant.
There is just no way that she can’t see my movements.
Maybe it's magick, or perhaps she’s just become more attuned with her other senses. I'm not sure I’ll ever know.
“Kaeleith is the closest thing I have to a mother anymore…” I say in a low voice.
She looks up at me beyond the steam of her cup and her thick lashes.
“A grandmother really…” I say it loud enough to earn a scoff from Kaeleith as she tends to the food.
“She’ll let us stay here as long as we need, but I am hoping it’s only a couple of days.
” I continue, only sparing the old woman a glance.
Astraea looks into her cup as she nods. Her expression is perplexed as her mind wanders off, but then she blinks.
When she looks at me again, all I can see is the pain I’ve caused in so many ways.
“Okay,” she searches my face, brows drawn. “But after a couple days… We will leave and return to Eathian? To look for Colette?” She asks, though the look on her face says no matter what answer I give, she is going to be reluctant to believe the truth in my words.
“As soon as my magick is strong enough to portal.” That seems good enough by the look in her eyes, though I don’t actually know if a couple days will be enough to fulfill that promise.
“I’ll be right back. I need to talk to Kaeleith.
” She doesn’t acknowledge my announcement, though I do notice her eyes follow me as I walk away.
My knees creak as I drop to a crouch beside the dweller.
“She is as divine as I imagined she would be.” She says, not looking up from the pot she stirs.
She doesn’t use magick to control the spoon as she lifts it to her mouth and slurps loudly, tasting the broth of whatever it is she is cooking.
She purses her lips with a “hmmpft” and then reaches into a bowl with a mix of green, brown, and white spices and throws a pinch into the bowl before starting to stirring it again.
“Much has happened since the last time we spoke.” I say, dipping my head as I lace my fingers together between my knees.
“Aye. So it has.” Her accent comes out a bit thicker as she responds without looking anywhere but at the cauldron.
“I have a bit of an issue; I was hoping you might be able to help with it.”
“Aye. So you do. I don’t have a magickal tincture that will help you restore your magick, Kyros.
I think you know as well as I do, that is not something an old dweller has the power for.
” She says without looking at me. I level her with a flat look.
“Don’t go looking for the easy way around things now.
I have never taught you that anything worth having is easy to obtain.
You and the girl will have a place to stay here as long as you need it.
Have you earned her trust yet?” I remain silent, and she lets out a gruff scoff before turning her head toward me.
“Flames only burn brighter if they are stoked. Smother the fire; deprive it of the air it needs to burn…”
My eyes trail up to where Astraea now stands, the mug of steaming tea in her hands as she looks longingly out the large window.
She doesn't have to continue for me to understand what she’s saying.
The flame dies. Is that something I am willing to allow?
Would it make things less complicated? Is it really that simple?
I know the answer.
There is not a world that I wouldn’t burn if it meant I kept that fire alive. I would let everything around us crumble to ash from the heat of our flame.