Chapter 6
Daya’s Homestead, Hannelore Mountain, Realm of Eldridge
Raiden had been an idiot. He’d refused to work with his blades ever since discovering a terrifying skillset he didn’t have the memories to wield properly—one that made it far too easy to hurt Daya.
A split second of a flashback or lack of proper direction from his mind, and he could do something he’d live his life regretting. Harming an innocent would be horrible, but he was certain that hurting Daya would shred his soul. That type of pain couldn’t ever be healed.
In following that very powerful instinct, he’d neglected one important fact. Refusing to come to terms with those skills carried the price of leaving Daya unprotected. In trying to protect her from himself, he’d left her vulnerable to others.
Daya was very capable of defending herself when needed, but that didn’t take away from his own deep feeling of responsibility.
While he was with her, he should be able to protect her.
The full understanding of his choice dawned on him as he’d absorbed the aggressive undertone of the villager’s words as they’d conversed.
How was he to successfully protect her without a weapon or honed skills? That was the question that had him hovering in Daya’s empty house, staring at the sealed chest that held his blades.
“Quit stalling.” He forced himself to one knee and opened the chest.
Daya had strapped his broad sword to the lid of the chest. The glint of metal against the dark leather radiated purpose.
Reminding himself he needed to embrace this part of him, he took a deep breath and reached out to touch the hilt in greeting, as if the blade was an old friend.
Somewhat expecting it, he didn’t fight the shards of memory when they lanced his mind, letting them come in peace.
Having just been cleaned, the amethyst stones shone brightly as he ran his fingers over them.
“Your hands are a little small yet, love, but someday they’ll hold it well.” A maternal hand ruffled his hair.
“Why would I be using your sword?” That right belonged first to his sister, even though she was so gentle he could scarcely imagine her with the mighty sword. It would be disrespectful to say so though.
“Your sister walks a different path.” His mother’s green eyes shimmered with knowing as she gazed into the fire before settling back on him.
“You’ll inherit my sword and shield, when you’re ready.
And your soul-guardian will help train you into a great warrior.
” Her smile held a hint of sadness as she studied him.
Turmoil thrummed through his young heart.
He’d watched his mother return from countless battles and missions, her fiery passion tempered by the weight of death and tragedy.
It took days, sometimes weeks, for her smile to return, hard as he tried to help her.
It took even longer to get her to laugh again.
He wasn’t sure he wanted to live that way.
Unlatching the straps that held the blade, Raiden removed it from the chest and held it in front of him, blinking rapidly as another flashback pulled him under.
Sea-blue eyes filled with trepidation met his. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
The whispered words echoed through his soul, and he swallowed hard. He had a choice, unlike his sister, but he wouldn’t back down from their mother’s legacy. It was his burden to shoulder, though it had never been the life he’d imagined.
“I’m sure.” His tone was grievously serious as he accepted the sword from her.
His sister closed her eyes briefly as if the decision hurt, sharing the weight with him.
As the head of their family, she had the right to stop him if she wanted, but she hadn’t, allowing him to fight grief his own way.
Placing her hand over his, she pressed the amethyst stone between their palms with surprising strength.
Her voice trembled only a touch as she continued with the formality. “Fight with honor, brother.”
He looked up to see his soul-guardian smiling proudly at him as she stepped forward to hand him his shield. “Your mother would be so proud, just as I am.”
Shaking slightly, Raiden set the sword aside. Maybe he’d have to work up to that one. The heirloom held a great weight, and his head ached from the snippets of memory it brought forth.
Glancing inside the chest showed various mementos and objects of Daya’s. Very old boxes and journals lined the bottom of the trunk. Closer to the surface were books, a sparkling black statue, and a few musical instruments. Piled amongst them were four blades of various design and purpose.
A lump of emotion swelled his throat as he stared at the contents. He’d asked her to hide his weapons so he wouldn’t hurt her, and she’d stored them in a place of honor with her life’s treasures.
Gathering strength from her gesture, he retrieved the rest of his blades. A squawk from Daya’s permanently open window drew his attention. Ember tilted her head at him in curiosity.
“Any idea where I can practice with these?” There was a storm brewing, so outside wouldn’t be the best place to train.
With a ruffled shake of wings, she side-stepped until she could turn around on the sill. Looking back at him with a squawk, she beat her powerful wings and took off. Raiden sighed and gathered his weapons so he could follow the bird.
Panting with exertion, Raiden leaned against the wall and massaged his side. The injury was healing, but the daily practice was proving too much, too fast. The pain made him nauseous and dizzy, barely able to stomach water, let alone food.
Ember made low mutterings of annoyance from her roost in the barn, giving him her beady-eyed stare of displeasure mixed with accusation.
“Yeah, I know. I overdid it.”
Neka huffed her agreement from her nest. She left each dawn and dusk to hunt, but in between, the owlcat was content to watch him train in the barn or nap on the house porch.
Her resemblance to an ice leopard didn’t even faze him anymore, nor did the giant wings.
She’d become his confidante and his treasured companion.
“What else am I supposed to do though, really?”
He’d been training in intervals, practicing with the bow, knives, and the sword.
It was a constant struggle to allow his muscle memory to lead him rather than conscious thought.
Re-teaching himself how to wield the sword was more difficult than he’d anticipated.
He had no idea if it was doing any good, but he was getting a good workout.
If only the exhausted sleep he fell into each night prevented the nightmares, he’d be in great shape.
Rising, Neka sauntered over and nosed his side. Her low growl confirmed he’d overused muscles that had yet to heal fully. “Sorry, girl. Got any better ideas?”
The owlcat looked to the hawk, and the two conversed noisily for a moment before turning back to him. Neka used her front shoulder to shove him over. Not expecting the forceful push, he stumbled sideways on the wall.
“Hey!”
Following him, she did it again, herding him until he fell into a shadowed niche along the side of the barn. His magic flickered, as it did any time he was fully in a shadow. Neka and Ember both made affirmative sounds.
“You want me to work on my magic?”
More affirmative sounds came from his companions.
Kavesh, how was he supposed to do that? He’d gotten the hang of identifying shadows and bringing his magic up to meld himself with them.
An odd form of hiding. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to work more on it, but finding shadows around the house wasn’t really going to help him much.
“No fair, you cheated!” The little firecracker leaned over him with accusing eyes and a scrunched-up nose, waves of red hair falling around her face.
Lying flat on the ground, he was wedged between the sofa and the wall in what turned out to be a pretty decent hiding spot for their game. He tried to be serious but failed at her outraged expression, his chest rising with huge bursts of laughter.
“Don’t get mad at me, Spark.” He grinned at the little girl as he sat up. “You never said I couldn’t practice my magic while you practiced yours.”
“Well, I’m saying it now! Only I can use magic this time.”
“Alright, little Spark, we’ll call this round a draw. Go start counting.”
“Hide again. Normal this time!”
Her red hair bounced dramatically as she stormed away from him, making him chuckle. She’d succeeded in tracking his mental signature even with him hiding in shadow, but he’d wait until next time to challenge her to a more difficult game.
Raiden blinked, letting his vision focus as the spark of memory faded, wondering who the little girl was, and why he’d been playing a magic skill building game with her.
It wasn’t the first time he’d seen her in his memories, and they always came with a deep sense of joy and pride. Whoever she was, he loved her.
An incredibly strange idea formed as he looked at the owlcat. “Daya raised you, right? Did the two of you ever play hide and seek?”
Her head tilted in a curious way, eyes brightening in interest and tail swishing.
“You want to play magic hide and seek, Neka?”
She chuffed, wings fluffing and resettling in a way that indicated she was ready to move.
Retracting her front talons so they slid back into her enormous paws, she flexed her toes and then stretched in a low bow.
When she finished her preparations, she loped over to the barn entrance and looked back at him.
“Guess we’ll give this a try.”
Daya talked to the animals constantly, treating them as intelligent beings, not far from people. Why shouldn’t he do the same?
He carefully stowed his weapons in the special wooden rack he’d made for the makeshift training room. A matching one sat in his bedroom to house the weapons at night. Giving his injured arm and leg a good stretch, he headed to the entrance.
“No cheating,” he said, with a look directly at Ember.