Even if they’d only met for the first time a few days ago, Hymn needed to put her trust in Iorvil. If Iorvil had told her she’d catch her, no questions asked, and gazed into her soul with her blue eyes, she would have known it to be true.
It wasn’t about love. They’d met again and again, danced around each other through timeline after timeline, and made something greater of Rhabour’s circles. If she believed in the new faith she’d chosen for herself, she’d step off the ledge and fall into her companion’s strong, familiar arms.
When a patrol of soldiers showed up on the same side of the bridge as Gale and Iorvil, she shut her eyes, removed her hands from the wall, and stepped out into the air. She fell, but one god needed her to live. Rhabour had to intervene in her fate.
All for Us
Gale stopped grinning the moment her twin fell. She may not have jumped off the building herself, yet the wind whistled in her ears, and Hymn’s heart raced inside her own. She experienced the same terrifying sensation her twin did while she watched her plummet.
She’d not been afraid when she’d walked across the bridge, not compared to how her heart stopped when it occurred to her that Hymn might die. And who would she share everything with then?
Iorvil ignored the arrival of more soldiers. She stepped forward, at the last moment, and embraced Hymn like she’d only stepped off a flight of stairs. The giant didn’t seem affected by the speed she’d picked up. The medallion around her neck glowed, but it was so brief that Gale might as well have imagined it.
“I’ve seen you before, in other circles.” Hymn caressed Iorvil’s chin, stared into her eyes. “I put my faith in time, and Rhabour lifted me down safely from the ledge.”
“If you say so.” Iorvil chuckled. “But that was crazy. Don’t do it again.”
“I won’t.”
Gale may as well not exist when those two looked at each other like they did, but the encroaching soldiers did. They were surrounded. None of them knew the area, so either they surrendered and let themselves get captured, or someone did something foolish to provide them with an escape.
“You’ve seen me before too, right, twin?” Gale asked and flicked blood of her rapier. She’d never killed anyone before, but she would do it again under similar circumstances.
“We share a soul…” Hymn smiled, with her entire heart.
Yet Gale could see in her eyes that she didn’t think they had met in other lifetimes. That, for whatever reason, their shared path may end in this life. She knew her well enough, and she’d acquired that new, peculiar bond with her that allowed her to glimpse what her twin felt. There was a tinge of regret buried under overwhelming fondness.
She wasn’t planning on exchanging the goddess of love for time. She’d made a weak attempt to exchange her for Fate, and that hadn’t panned out well. Phoxene had the right idea. If she wanted to become famous, she had to make it happen herself.
“Go for the river.” Gale faced Iorvil, nodded towards the bridge. “I’ll distract them.”
“This was your plan…?” Iorvil’s face contorted in an expression of disbelief. “We’d drown.”
The soldiers on the same side of the bridge as them unsheathed their broadswords, held their round shields at the ready, and approached. They didn’t have time to argue.
“You might, Iorvil, but I’m betting on your muscles and giant body to carry my twin to safety.”
“I’d sooner die here with you than leave, Gale.” Hymn bored into her skull with her gaze, mouthed unspoken words, and reminded her of Hope. She wished she could have gotten a chance to say farewell to everyone.
She pointed her rapier at Hymn, backed toward the soldiers, and ducked Iorvil’s huge hand when she tried to grab her too. “How am I ever going to become famous if you keep getting in my way, baby sis?”
“We’re the same age!”
“According to Venviel, I’m a minute older.” Gale spun around, dodged the swing of a sword, and slid the tip of her thin rapier into the gap between a soldier’s helmet and his armour.
While he clawed at his neck, fell to his knees, she danced away from his slow compatriots and led them in the direction of the streets. The majority of them seemed confused, as if they lacked a leader to tell them whom to go after first.
“Don’t do this, Gale!” Hymn shrieked and tried to escape Iorvil’s arms. “I won’t forgive you!”
She’d made her twin angry on many, many occasions, but that shriek was different. New. Final.
“That’s okay…” Gale murmured to herself, curtsied to Hymn with a loving wink, and watched the woman dearest to her out of everyone in the world disappear behind the corner of a building. “I won’t forgive me either after dragging you into this mess.”
She could feel Hymn’s rage blend with their shared sorrow and her own intense desire for the future, even if she couldn’t see her, but she had to focus on parrying the few soldiers who were quick enough to catch up.
Their armours weighed them down to the point where she could escape with ease. Venviel had trained her well. She’d be proud.
Or at least she figured her mother would have been proud of her until she tripped over her own tail, landed on her back in the middle of the street, and swore.
The first soldier to reach her sliced into her leg, and made her bleed profusely while an unsettling cold overcame her, but she forced herself to hum to distract her cheerful mind from the void.
She’d never feared death in the past, so she shouldn’t do it now either. Maybe she wouldn’t become famous when she was made to bleed like a rabid dog in the streets of this foreign country, but Hymn would survive. She would carry her tale through her preposterous circles, wouldn’t she?
“No fame for the finest dame, in this waiting game…” She sang and tried to crawl behind a couple of barrels, another soldier thrust his sword into her waist. “But she might reclaim dignity from shame.”
The gods ought to mourn her because they’d never given their mortals the chance to enjoy her harrowing voice.
Cruel War
Iorvil would do what the fool asked of her. She could have shielded both Hymn and Gale, sacrificed herself for their sakes, but she supposed that didn’t matter when Gale rushed off to die alone. If she’d not watched her own brothers and sisters rush off to similar deaths, for the sake of those they cherished, she could have resented the woman for what she did to her twin. As it was, she only gained respect for her. They were not that different.
“Don’t leave her. She doesn’t know what she’s doing. She’s always been an idiot.” Hymn scratched at her leathers while her tears flowed, but Iorvil refused to let go off her too. She should have tied Gale to her with a rope.
“I’m sorry, Hymn, but in this case, I’ll obey someone else.”
Iorvil ran, carried her over to the bridge, and gazed down at the raging river. She wouldn’t get far without breaking several of her bones, but hopefully, Hymn would survive. Even if no one else did. She’d no idea where Phoxene had gone after the goddess had transported them all into the middle of the empire. If she was lucky, she’d been left on the Gustfin.
“Please…” Hymn sought eye contact with her through steady tears.
But Iorvil didn’t plan to start weeping too, and she would if the empire got Hymn. The majority of the soldiers may have turned their attention on Gale, but not all of them. They didn’t have long to make a decision if they planned to escape capture.
She hugged her partner, tighter than ever, and leapt off the bridge.
“Gale!” Hymn deafened her with a grief-stricken shriek.
They landed in the river. Iorvil had to fight to retain her hold on Hymn and curl up into a ball to shield her from every blow the rocks underneath the water dealt to them.
Crack after crack resounded through her bones, but if her only purpose in life at this point was to defend Hymn from nature itself, she would do it. She wouldn’t allow Gale’s sacrifice to be in vain.
She may not se
e Rhabour’s new beginning herself, but Hymn had everything she needed for all of them to live on, or she wouldn’t have survived stepping off that ledge.
When the river seemed to relent, she swam for the surface and gasped for air. She saw the sky and clouds above them, but not much else.
The currents tore her under again and threatened to free Hymn, but she strengthened her hold on the woman and refused to give anything less than utter resilience in the face of death.
A louder crack echoed in her skull.
She longed to plant a kiss on Hymn’s lips, and apologize, but she knew she couldn’t. She would become a ship of flesh and bone to carry her home. Time would bring Caelora’s lost daughter to the village’s shore. Even if it took him a decade or two, Iorvil prayed Rhabour would do it for her, and everyone else they’d lost. She’d made mistakes in her short service as his champion, but she’d given him everything she had since birth.
No Heavy Weather
Hymn tasted sand and salt water while a pleasant breeze caressed her battered body, yet beyond the meager tools the world used in a futile attempt to ease her loss, a numb pain had created a hole that would never heal.
“You’re home, I believe.” Iorvil kissed her cheek but remained limp next to her on the beach.
Seagulls squawked above. She recognized the sound of the waves in Caelora, but what difference did it make if she’d been returned home now? She could never face her mothers. If they didn’t drive her from the village, she would leave herself. She’d been forever marked by Gale’s sacrifice, and how unnecessary it had been.
“How…”
“Divine intervention, I’d guess.”
Well, the gods had taught her a lesson alright. No matter what length she went to to avoid or serve them, they would destroy her. They’d transformed her into a nice wreck. They should have sunk her to the bottom of the ocean like every other worthless vessel.
“I love you, but you shouldn’t have let Gale… I love you.” She emphasized love, twice, defiantly. If the goddess of love showed herself, Hymn would force her to kill her if she didn’t want to die herself.
“If you mean that, could you get me help? Any healer will do. I think I broke every bone in my body getting us through the river.”
Hymn sat up in the sand. By the look of her, Iorvil should have died. Legs and arms were not supposed to point in such unnatural directions. Not all at once. No one could survive whatever damage her beloved had taken.
She stumbled to her feet, gazed at the top of the cliffs of Caelora. Maybe if she screamed Hope or Venviel would hear her, but she didn’t want to meet them. They would have hundreds of questions, and each would bring them to the same answer. How did anyone expect her to break the news of her twin’s disappearance?
Since she couldn’t sense their short-lived bond anymore, she may as well tell everyone Gale had died. It might be easier to accept. No one would pray for her to return and accidentally bring the wrath of a bunch of immature children down on their heads.
“Time heals everything, except untreated bodily injuries.”
“I’m sorry…” Hymn sighed. “Will you be fine for an hour without me? I’m not certain how long it would take for me to climb the path to the village in this state.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ve lived through worse.”
“I doubt you have.” Hymn looked at Iorvil’s broken body once more, shook her head, and trudged through the sand toward the cliff path with tears in her eyes. “I haven’t.”
Nonchalance
“You could have brought them home from the beginning.” Fate gnashed her teeth, her mouth set in a hard line, while they watched Caelora from a cloud.
“The experience wouldn’t have been as enriching for them.” Furore lifted her hand to stroke Fate’s back, but the goddess made her reconsider when she gnashed her teeth louder. “And Rhabour might have perished without Iorvil and Hymn.”
“One died.”
“Free will and all.” Furore drew her lower lip between her teeth. “What Gale did—“
Fate turned towards her and raised her hand, abruptly, yet she didn’t slap her. She stopped her shaking hand right before it struck her cheek. Furore hadn’t seen Fate as angry in the past, and she couldn’t tell why this death upset her so.
“What’s wrong, dear?” She asked after Fate shut her eyes and turned her back on her to sulk in silence.
“Dear. Funny you are.” Fate flapped her deer-like ears. “Brave to call me that to my face.”
“What…?”
“I like deer, so I made myself look like a deer, and so you call me deer. Not dear.”
She stifled her laughter lest it erupt into a giggle fit. She’d not encountered this side of Fate. It had not occurred to her that deer sounded the same as dear, and now that Fate had pointed it out, she had to resist teasing her with the homophones for the entirety they might spend together.
“We should do this more often.”
“You liked my mortal dying so much?”
“No, but you are irresistibly cute when you sulk.” Furore slipped her hand through the cloud, pulled it back to gain momentum, and brought it forward to smack Fate’s butt. “Yummy dear ass.” She’d not made it longer than a minute.
Fate wrestled her down on the cloud, gripped her wrists, and laid her golden figure on top of hers. “Spent years on Gale, which you threw away. My twin.”
“I didn’t know we split them.” Furore wrapped her legs around Fate’s waist. “I’m sorry if this turn of events upset you.”
“Gale… was funny.” Fate didn’t cry, like Hymn, but she sounded regretful. “Don’t think I’m fit for my roles. Destiny and luck.”
“I think you are.” Furore pulled Fate down until she could plant a gentle, loving kiss on her golden lips. “I like you, my goddess of creation. You’ll do better with the next one.”
“I will.” Fate slid her arms around her, rested her head on Furore’s chest. “I must.”
Rejuvenation
During their first two years together in Caelora, Iorvil grew more restless than ever. She’d survived to spread Rhabour’s message, and uncovered a new beginning like Keeper Jerfell had asked her to, but she’d lived and breathed war for so long. How could she pretend everything was fine now?
The empire still existed. Thotrix hadn’t perished. Somewhere far beyond the ocean, they may prepare to invade the rest of the world. She didn’t like to think about it at all, yet she couldn’t stop either. For years, her survival had depended on avoiding the empire. And suddenly, she didn’t have to worry about them.
If she’d had an airship, or known how to get to the empire, she might have recruited people for an expedition. Many of her brethren remained captives. She’d freed one machine, no more.
Hymn had told her about the time she’d last seen Phoxene, and how the woman had abandoned her, but Iorvil couldn’t claim she’d expected better from her sister. Thotrix’s servants had destroyed her people. The majority had been killed, but individuals like Phoxene may have suffered worse. They’d had their minds twisted until they couldn’t act right.
Hope and Venviel welcomed her to Caelora, with open arms, though she never stopped wondering what they’d been like when they’d had both of their daughters. After Hymn told them the truth about Gale, they kind of broke. It may not be obvious on the surface, not to a stranger like her, but everyone acted strange around them from that day on. Hope and Venviel could often be seen whispering quietly to each other, hugging, and drawing strength from their love.
They shared a bond that shattered whatever remnants existed of her old idea that love weakened people. They could look at each other on the verge of tears, when one of them seemed to reminisce about their lost daughter, and a mere smile from their partner cheered them up.
When Hymn became pregnant, Iorvil panicked. How could she know her love hadn’t cheated on her? How could she prove a god had interfered in their relationship? Why would anyone think she’d make
a good parent? What kind of lunatic put her in a position where she had to care for a pregnant woman? She was a warrior, not a midwife.
In the end, none of it mattered. Hymn didn’t leave her for someone else, so she accepted the boy as theirs. She did her best to raise him as a faithful of Rhabour, as another member of her people. Although, he looked more like Hymn than a human with his tail and horns.
Thankfully, Hope was always there to give her advice, and Venviel liked to appear out of nowhere to play with the boy. Hymn named him Brazen. It fit a warrior of Iorvil’s people, and it respected the names his grandmothers had given their children.
A decade passed in Hymn’s company, and in the shadow of her love, Iorvil forgot about the empire. At least during the days. Some nights were hard unless Rhabour visited her because she suffered from nightmares, but in time, she would overcome those too.
Iorvil entered The Amiciers’ Rest while a dozen sailors sat around tables, nursed their drinks, and seemed on the verge of falling asleep. Everyone called them pirates, smugglers, but for criminals, they were a soft bunch.
A couple of them greeted her with nods. Most of them watched her in awe, because she was just that much taller than them, and while she’d lost her old weapon after jumping in a river ten years ago, she’d replaced it with a silvery axe that looked like it could cleave someone in half. Caelora lacked soldiers, so she did her best to dissuade new arrivals from getting ideas.
“Iorvil the Giant!” Art exclaimed, grinned, and snatched a glass off the counter. Since they’d first met, he’d grown from a child into a rambunctious young man. “Hymn went upstairs to clean, but I can get you anything you want. Anything at all. I’m getting good at this.”
Iorvil smiled. He reminded her of Gale, in the worst ways. “Does Hope know you’re serving drinks without supervision? Should I stay here until Hymn returns in case you get the urge to drink yourself? Heard about—”
Gale & Hymn Page 11