38
Kora
The crowd milled around a raised wooden stage, away from the docks.
A shimmering bronze banner had been erected above, in celebration of Hallow’s Day, and beneath were three palladium goblets embedded with moonstones on separate stone pedestals.
Aryn hovered beside Kora, his sharp gaze transfixed on Aerion as he stood beside Zephyr and Skylar upon the makeshift dais.
“Why don’t you try talking to him?” Kora whispered, as strangers stood way too close for her liking. She pulled her hood down, making sure her hair was hidden beneath.
“There’re things that happened in the past . . . he doesn’t understand why. Decisions that I had made. The day before the Mist, we’d had a huge fight that morning, and I’d jumped on Leto’s ship for some space.” Aryn’s voice caught and he cleared his throat.
“And you couldn’t get back to him.” Aryn’s sorrow was palpable. Even now, his stare transcended desire as he wholly focused on Aerion.
“How do you move forward when one of you lives in the past?” Kora brushed his hand, offering a gentle squeeze.
Zephyr matched his children in swaths of brown and crisp white, reminding Kora of autumn and delicious chocolate.
A crown made of dazzling silver rested atop his white hair, its sharp ends meeting beads of floating pearls.
To the left of the dais stood Cassidy, surrounded by various striking colours of pirates.
“This is the annual ceremony for Hallow’s Day,” Aryn whispered quickly, changing the subject. “Whenever you feel power, you must kneel. I’ll be back soon.”
Kora bristled as Aryn slipped away, appearing to Aerion’s right below the raised dais. She pulled her cloak tighter around herself, suddenly aware of the crowd surrounding her, the wave of faces that could potentially recognise her as a saviour . . . or enemy.
“We thank you, Thanos, for shepherding those we have lost to Umbra,” Zephyr spoke clearly.
“For ferrying their souls to the dark in absence of your executer. We recognise your mark of death.” Zephyr raised his hand and a burst of air swept across the crowd.
Kora instantly dropped as heads bobbed like a sea wave, the sound of knees smacking the cobbled street vibrating through her.
But they’d all turned to face the south, towards the end of the city.
Kora blushed, hiding beneath her hood as she faced north.
She gasped as Zephyr’s power coursed through her, crushing her shoulders with a relentless weight that caused her hands to grip the ground as she tried to breathe through it, in fear her lungs would collapse.
“We bless the southern wind,” the crowd murmured and Kora jolted in surprise, following their lead as they all stood once again.
Zephyr stepped forward, taking a sip from the central goblet.
What looked like blood trickled from the side of his lips, staining his beard, and Kora cringed, looking to see if anyone else noticed.
“We thank you, Thanos, for welcoming new life into our world.” Skylar stepped forward next, her power carrying her voice so she whispered into everyone’s individual ears. “For blessing those whose wombs were barren, and sheltering the infirm to see the next day. We recognise your mark of life.”
Like her father, Skylar released a blast of power, but instead of a crushing weight, it was like spears of air whooshing past, and Kora gripped onto her hood to prevent it from falling back. The crowd rotated, facing the ocean, and Kora’s knees groaned in protest as she bowed her head.
“We bless the eastern wind,” they spoke in perfect unison.
She could see where this was going as Skylar drank from the goblet to the left and Aerion stepped forward.
“We thank you, Thanos, for bringing us into this new year, and we celebrate your generosity by drinking the blood of the gods, releasing our essence back unto you. We recognise your mark of power.” Aerion’s face was stern, and as Kora knelt in anticipation, the cobbles biting at her skin, Aerion’s release of power was pleasant.
A gentle wave, winding through the crowd, tickling shins and chins, and resulting in a few squeals from children.
“We bless the northern wind.”
Standing up a third time, Kora scanned the dais and frowned. Surely Raiden was the fourth wind as the only remaining elemental of his family? Aerion stepped back from the goblet, wiping his mouth and she grimaced at the blood.
“It’s not real,” the deep, buttery voice brushed against her mind. “They use wine now, instead of actual blood.” A delightful shiver consumed her, and for once, she welcomed the intrusion as the enchanting scent of rain after a storm wrapped around her.
Raiden’s shoulder brushed against hers as he stepped into line, donning a dark brown cloak obscuring his face.
“Shouldn’t you be up there?” she whispered.
He shook his head gently.
“Are you not the western wind?”
Raiden stiffened, his hand twitching. “I’ve lost that privilege.”
Cassidy and Aryn appeared on the dais next, and Kora’s heart flipped as they held hands awkwardly, raising them up into the air.
“We thank Thanos for being the conduit between realms, bridging the gap between life and death. As so, we represent the bridge between lands, between peoples old and new. We recognise your mark of connection.” Cassidy and Aryn spoke in perfect unison, their tones monotonous as if they wanted to be anywhere but there.
A subtle blush lined Aryn’s cheeks as no sweep of power emitted from them, but one look from Zephyr and the crowd knelt regardless.
“We bless the western wind.”
Raiden’s tension was palpable as his shoulders hunched from the blessing.
Despite the sky appearing clear through the Mist, an unmistakable rumble of thunder answered the blessing.
Kora’s hairs stood on end, and she didn’t think twice as she took Raiden’s hand, guiding him away from the crowd as Zephyr brought the ceremony to a close with generic jargon about praise for the new year.
Her body instinctively drove her to the shoreline near the entrance to the promenade, and she halted to a stop, her fingers still entwined with Raiden’s.
The ocean soothed her instantly, and she tried not to leap with joy at how her body pulsed in time with the lapping waves, at how her water beast purred in delight so much that she could dive into the ocean right now, and never look back.
“It’s always embarrassing,” Raiden spoke thickly as he stared at the Mist blanketing the horizon.
“Why are you excluded?” Kora didn’t pull away as she caught his vacant gaze. Instead, she gripped harder, in hopes she could ground him like he’d been grounding her lately.
“I’m not who you think I am,” Raiden answered, his voice strained. “I’ve done things, caused things—bad things—to happen to my family. This is my punishment.”
“You’re talking to the queen of doing bad things,” Kora scoffed, pointing to her chest. “I’ve probably murdered at least one person connected to every family on this island.”
And her nightmares didn’t let her forget it.
“You were misled,” Raiden argued. “Erick twisted your mind, made you believe you were doing the right thing.”
“But so was Erick,” Kora said softly. “I know no one can understand why I’m defending him. But he’d lost so much, and was told it was the rebels. He was retaliating in vengeance and it repeated with me. It all leads back to Barron.”
“I can assure you there were no rebel attacks on officers over ten years ago. We usually deal in stealth and information.” Raiden gave her a pointed stare and Kora’s mind tripped over itself.
No.
“That bastard,” she growled, and Raiden’s stare shifted into curious surprise.
The cogs clicked into place as Barron’s unending dark manipulation expanded before her like a map, telling her what Erick failed to see.
“It was Barron,” she uttered. “It had to be. No one would ever have done what Erick did. Not unless you were so broken, so blind with revenge.”
Indeed, Barron was a master manipulator. He’d created the perfect puppet. He’d torn Erick’s life away and used the empty shell to create his own weapon. Just like they both had with Kora. Gods, did Erick know? Did he have any idea of the level of betrayal Barron had stooped to?
Raiden grimly nodded, then glanced down at their entwined hands. He stared for a long time before pulling away, clearing his throat.
“Let’s not dwell on the past.” He smiled, but his eyes didn’t dazzle the way they usually did. Within a second, Raiden revealed a wrapped oblong package with a small box placed on top. Kora raised her brows in shock as he handed it over.
“What? What is this?”
“Open it.” He winked before folding his arms. Kora opened the little box first, revealing a singular chocolate tart, the buttery pastry already causing her mouth to drool, topped with pistachio cream and tiny flakes of edible gold.
“Oh my!” She didn’t hesitate as she bit into it, moaning as the decadent flavour cocooned her with its velvety aftertaste. “You must give your chef my thanks!”
Raiden’s smile widened, his crystal eyes turning blue. “He knew you’d like it.”
Kora tore into the second box, in hopes of it being more treats from the castle’s chef.
Gods, she could live off the tarts forever.
As she pulled the chromatic wrapping away and opened the lid, she froze.
The box fell away as she gripped the dagger in her hand, its handle contoured to fit her palm perfectly.
A curved sabre, decorated with water runes she recognised from Aerion’s lessons, meeting a dark blue hilt that shimmered a vibrancy of colours whenever the light hit it.
She placed the weapon across two fingers.
It was perfectly balanced. Longer than her daggers from the empire, Kora swished it through the air, and her skin pleasantly prickled at the tiny ring of Galenite silver cutting the atmosphere.
The hilt was simple, reminding her of a night’s sky reflecting in the ocean’s surface, and at the top of the pommel were a collection of pearls woven together.