Chapter Four
EVER THE ONE for dramatic timing, Pella didn’t make them wait long. She passed the very night that Killian arrived.
A knock came at the cottage door early the next morning, a young elf sent to run the message around the village. Pella would be sent off to the heavens—or hell, in her case—that night at the river.
It’s elven tradition for the dead to be sent off within a day of their passing and not a moment later.
After closing the door, Eria eyed Killian.
Killian leaned against the wall, crossed his ankles, and raised his hands. “She was alive and breathing when I left her.” Only just, but alive all the same. “I swear.”
Eria scowled at him.
Killian grinned.
Funerals in Turell had always been performed at the river that cut through the fields, just before the streams forked into two.
The water had been ferrying Turell’s dead to the afterlife for eons.
Forty feet wide, the river was teeming with life, the riverbanks full of greenery in a way Killian had never seen in all his time in Turell.
A stark difference from the brown, barren sand it had been before.
The small crowd parted easily as Killian and Eria approached from behind. Heads turned and curious eyes followed him. The villagers whispered. A chorus of, “Who is that?” and “I can’t see his face. Why’d he come with Eria?” and “Do you see that crest? A King’s Guard. What’s one doing way out here?”
Killian knew all they saw was a stranger, unrecognizable with his back to them.
No one stopped Killian as he made his way to the front. All those who knew the deceased were welcome to say goodbye. None would be turned away.
There was a roaring in Killian’s ears, and his palms were slick with nerves. The irrational idea that Kade may not recognize him—may turn him away—had him on edge.
Stamping down the storm swirling inside of him, Killian forced himself forward, one foot in front of the other. Carefully moulding his face into a stony mask, giving away none of what he was feeling.
Kade knelt in the mud next to the small ceremonial boat that Pella lay in, fresh flowers were placed all around her, braided into the hack job that was on her head.
Long auburn hair fell into Kade’s face, escaping from where he had tucked it behind his ears. The moon illuminated his pale skin. Kade had grown into himself. There was a new confidence and sureness about him.
Kade’s handsome face twisted somberly as he sat in silence with his mother’s body. Though his eyes were noticeably dry.
It was a peaceful scene, the moon high in the sky and the soothing sounds of the river in the background. It was more than Pella deserved.
Those gathered held lanterns to guide Pella’s way. They lowered their heads, careful not to watch or listen in, their sensitive elven ears pinned back out of respect as Kade laid his hand over Pella’s eyes and whispered a quiet farewell.
Killian watched it all, his eyes never leaving Kade.
Swallowing harshly, Kade stood and braced his hands against the long stem-post on the stern of the boat, readying her for her final journey. His bare feet dug into the mud of the riverbank, slipping as he struggled to push the boat onto the water.
Killian was frozen. His body not answering his call to move.
A sharp pinch to his side broke him out of it. Having sensed his hesitation, Eria had taken things into her own hands. She placed her palm on the small of his back, preparing to give him a push if needed. The warmth of her hand was a grounding presence.
Taking a deep breath, Killian surged forward. His hands found the stern alongside Kade’s, the tips of their fingers overlapping as Killian dug in his heels and started to push.
Kade wrenched back. Not having heard the commotion behind him earlier, he was unaware of their unexpected visitor. Warm amber eyes widened, and for a moment, Killian saw Pella in Kade. She’d worn a similar expression when Killian had appeared before her.
“Killi,” Kade gasped.
Sharp relief flooded through Killian. Kade hadn’t forgotten him. And in that moment, Killian saw no hatred in his eyes.
With a small nod towards the river, Killian got them moving again. Kade blinked rapidly to bring himself back from the shock. Together they waded into the shallow waters, pushing the weight of the boat deeper and deeper.
Water squelched in Killian’s boots and soaked his trousers.
The water was warm against Killian’s thighs, as it was everywhere in Netyere.
It was the king’s gift to his people, along with fertile lands and mild weather year round.
By binding himself and his magic to the land, the king and Netyere became one, their connection unbreakable except by death.
The king became the people’s armor and their provider.
As long as his magic flowed freely and strong, his mind and body sound, Netyere would flourish under him, as it had under his forefathers before him.
With a final shove, Killian and Kade let go. They stood together as Pella floated towards the middle of the river, the gentle current guiding her downstream. The lanterns let loose by the watching villagers bobbed alongside her.
A flurry of arrows lit up the night sky, flying straight and true to their course. They hit with an echoing thud. The fire spread quickly, the flames licking their way up the hull until the boat was engulfed.
It was customary in Netyere for family to stand vigil overnight, to serve as guards for their lost loved ones as their spirits travel into the afterlife.
It was that custom in mind that had Killian turning and trudging back towards shore.
“Killi.” Kade caught his arm, his nails dug into Killian’s flesh. He sounded panicked. “You won’t stand the vigil?”
Killian shook his head. “She isn’t my family.”
Kade flinched, his grip loosening as Killian’s words landed like a physical blow.
Softening, Killian moved into Kade’s space, slowly, to give him time to retreat if he wanted. Kade stood his ground.
Prying Kade’s hand off of him, Killian let it drop. The heat of Kade’s touch lingered. “I’m not leaving. Stand your vigil. I’ll find you tomorrow when you’re finished. I’m staying with Eria—”
“Come home,” Kade interrupted. His eyes were blazed, his mouth set stubbornly. He left no room for argument. “Wait for me at home.”
Killian sighed, but nodded his agreement. “Alright.”
Without another word, Killian retreated, pushing through the sea of horrified faces in the dark. Head on, there was no doubt they recognized him, saw on his face the truth of who he was. A ghost come back to haunt them.
“Killian del Torau,” an onlooker hissed, spitting at Killian’s feet as he passed her. “You should be dead.”
Ignoring her, Killian cast one last look at Kade over his shoulder. Their eyes met across the clearing. Kade looked torn, his body tense, his hands and jaw working, almost as if he were thinking of running after Killian.
Taking Eria’s hand, Killian moved to leave.
After a moment, Kade did the same, wading back into the water.
Killian would take the night and face Kade on a new day.