by Adam Lynch
Both stories added up well, but Ashkii didn’t trust either of them. He didn’t want to trust either of them. Yet, he still had to make a decision.
Both had claimed that the other was dangerous. But theoretically, who was more dangerous? Kelanssa, who he knew to be the Hypnotist, or the figure with the purple eyes, who could be one of the six captains of the Sky Pirates.
But just how dangerous were the Sky Pirates? This assuming that the members of the purple eyes were as Kel had claimed. Were they more dangerous than Kel? She had just revealed everything that she could be capable of. Even if the claims of the Sky Pirate coming was true, who’s to say that Seasons wouldn’t be able to fight them off? There’s disagreement among the kingdoms thanks to Kelanassa, but there are powerful warriors in Seasons, despite all that Kel had manipulated Ashkii’s hand to end. Perhaps united, Seasons would be strong. Could Ashkii not use his influence with the ultimate weapon that is the Spirit Bow to gather them? Was he not the Spirit Gatherer?
But there were no pirates coming. There would be no invasion or devastation of the land. Ashkii knew nothing of these pirates but he knew a lot about Kelanassa. She was dangerous. Very dangerous.
But if she had been telling the whole truth, then there was an invasion coming. Though she’d be a mass murderer as she already was, she’d be the land’s hero and the world’s only protector—but that assumption was a stretch.
Suddenly and unexpectedly, Kel embraced his leg, hugging it, tears wetting his leggings.
Now, Ashkii had heard what his mind had had to say, but what did his heart have to say? For the first time in his life, since before he could remember, he was feeling something from this.
The thought of ending Kel’s life pained him… like he’d be killing a part of himself—a part of himself he’d likely never feel again. There was an unusual feeling of comfort that she had given him. Was it hypnosis or was it real? Regardless of what it was, having her with him felt good. He wasn’t sure if it was right or not but it felt good. It gave him peace—something he’d always wanted. And she’d offered him promises of peace… security… isolation… independence… things he had always been fighting for. From the power she’d receive from him, he wouldn’t have to fight anymore. If she was telling the truth about everything, it’d all be over. All his worries of the world’s problems… no longer his own. He never wanted to be a part of any of it anyway. It was true that she brought him into all this, but now she’s offering him a way out—permanently. But all those people would die… just so he could have what he wanted. But weren’t they all going to die anyway from the pirate invasion? It’s not like he ever had control over their fates. If they’d die, then fate had already decided for them. It would not be his problem. It would not be his fault.
Kel went through the exact same thing he did—or so she had claimed. But if she had gone through the same thing, then she truly was the only one who could understand him. The only one who he could talk to, and maybe even ever bond with…
Perhaps he could be happy. Perhaps he could live happily with someone who actually knew and understood him. She could help him. And maybe he could help her, too. They could have a connection. Would that be possible for him? The way he was feeling this moment—the fact that he was feeling something—that gave him hope.
But if she’d die, would that hope die as well?
She lifted her face to him, Ashkii meeting her emotion-filled gaze, his countenance puzzled and broken as hers. Slowly, she towered up, leveling with him, her eyes never leaving his. His arms relaxed, lowering the bow but keeping the arrow firm in his grasp. Their lips inches from touching, he saw now what he had never so clearly seen in her before. He saw sincerity. He saw brokenness. He saw desire. He saw compassion. He saw love.
Had she truly loved him? Or had he only seen what she had wanted him to see?
“I love you,” she whispered, her eyes twinkling from the sound of the word.
Ashkii paused, his mouth open. It wasn’t because he hesitated—but it was because it was hard for him to speak without his voice breaking. “I love you, too,” he said, tightening his grasp of the arrow.
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