8. To Be Brave
Chapter Eight
To Be Brave
Farda stood on the balcony outside his chambers, leaning his back against the parapet, his hands resting on the warm stone, the sun at his back. He looked through the open arch into the chamber within, where young Salara played with Hana and Valyianne, chasing them around the room.
He smiled at the sight, a shred of his heart finding the meekest semblance of joy. He swallowed hard and averted his gaze. Joy was what not something he deserved at that moment.
“A question of the heart, brother?” Eltoar stood across from him, arms folded, white hair flowing over his shoulders. The elf stared at him, a softness in his usually stern face.
Farda drew a long breath in and contemplated his answer. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for questions. He wasn’t sure if he would ever be. With a sigh, he nodded.
Eltoar looked from Farda to where the twins played with Salara. “Do you blame yourself?”
Farda couldn’t help but choke back a laugh. He turned towards the city and the sun and rubbed his face in his hands. “The soul of the Draleid but the mind of an elf,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re supposed to ask gentle questions first, brother.”
“I’ve never seen the point in gentle questions.” Eltoar moved so he stood next to Farda, folding his arms over the parapet and looking out at the city.
“To soften the pain.”
“There is no such thing as soft pain, only wilful ignorance and pain unshared.”
Farda nodded silently in agreement. “Torlan and Sahira died because I was late. Valyianne and Hana are alone because I could not drag myself from Anila’s arms.”
“Torlan and Sahira died because five men murdered them and because a lucky arrow took your brother in the head. And Valyianne and Hana are not alone. They have you. And you have us.”
Eltoar turned and leaned back against the wall, Farda doing the same.
“Will those girls go a day without your love?” Eltoar asked, once more folding his arms.
Farda shook his head. “Not a moment. Not a fucking moment.”
“We cannot change the past, Farda. That has come and gone. What you can do now is love these girls in everything that you do. Teach them what is right, teach them to be bold and brave, to question, and to stand tall. And most importantly, teach them to stand for each other, for you cannot always watch over them like a mother hen.”
As Eltoar spoke, Farda saw him looking not at Hana and Valyianne, but at his apprentice, Salara.
“She is growing into a fine Draleid,” Farda said, watching as Salara lifted Hana onto her shoulders and ran about the room like a wild hog.
“That she is.” The smile that graced Eltoar’s lips was a fleeting one.
He had never been quite the same since Maquil’s death, and when he had taken Salara as his apprentice, both Farda and Alvira had watched from a distance with caution.
It was a delicate balance, to witness a friend scratch at old wounds and give them the space to heal while being ready to catch them they should they fall.
Farda would have probed further, but Eltoar was the type of soul that cared deeply for others while never allowing those same people to return the care.
He would stand there for hours and listen to Farda’s heart pouring from his chest and yet never open his own.
All souls were different, and all souls required different things, but Farda couldn’t help but worry.
“What has Anila said?” Eltoar asked.
“I haven’t told her.”
Eltoar raised an eyebrow at that.
“What do I say? My brother and his wife are dead, slaughtered while I lay entangled with you in a warm bed. That I should have been there, but I wasn’t, and a part of me blames you for distracting me.”
“They would not be my choice of words, no.” Eltoar gave him a sad smile, shaking his head. “Perhaps start by telling her what has happened and letting her speak. Ask her if she would like to meet them.”
“That sounds far too reasonable,” Farda said with a laugh. Sombreness took hold at that moment as his thoughts lingered on his brother, on finding the bodies stripped of their clothing, their worldly possessions gone, and the two girls sitting in the dirt wailing.
When he’d found them, he’d taken them back to their home for five days. There he buried Torlan and Sahira and slept on the floor by the girls’ beds so that when the night terrors woke them they wouldn’t be alone.
“I have no idea what I’m doing,” Farda said. “I never wanted children… Torlan could touch the Spark, but what if Hana and Valyianne cannot? What do I do, Eltoar, if I have to watch them grow old and wither?”
“Take each day as it comes. There are enough problems in this moment, you do not need to worry about those that have not yet come to pass. Just love them. The rest is a roll of the dice.”
“That’s an easy thing to say, old friend. Not so easy to—”
A shriek sounded from within, and Farda bolted through the arch quicker than a kat, his heart galloping, every hair on his body pricked up.
“It’s all right, it’s all right,” Salara said as she reached down to pick up Valyianne.
Farda got there first, scooping the little girl into his arms. A splotch of blood coated her upper lip, and a cut sat on her forehead. “Shhh,” he whispered. “You’re so brave. So, so brave.”
Valyianne whimpered, a touch of confusion in her eyes. “Buh… Brave?”
“Mmmh hmm. So brave. When someone falls, Valyianne, it means they had the courage to run.” Farda licked his thumb and brushed the blood from Valyianne’s lip, kissing her forehead.
The little girl smiled, and by the gods that smile gave him life, all the darkness in his soul fleeing from the light.
“I’m brave too!” Hana said before breaking out into a run that would have made a galloping horse jealous.
She made it three feet before tripping over the rug and smashing herself against the bedpost with enough force to make Farda wince.
She immediately sat up straight, a lump already forming on her forehead.
Her upper lip trembled, the look in her eyes telling Farda she was pondering whether or not to cry.
“By the love of the fucking gods,” he whispered as he scooped her up in his other arm.
Before he could say a word, Valyianne leaned over and kissed the bump on her sister’s head. “I think you’re brave, Hana.”
And in a flash, both girls were smiling and telling the other that they were the bravest.
“Come, Salara,” Eltoar said as he followed Farda into the chamber. “Let us give Farda some time. We are to meet Alvira in the training yard.” As Eltoar passed, he rested a hand on Farda’s shoulder. “They’re going to be just fine.”