Echoes of the Past (The Alina Chronicles Book 1)

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Echoes of the Past (The Alina Chronicles Book 1) Page 5

by Regina J. Robinson


  “I said it before, and I’ll say it again, you’re one strange cookie, Sparky.”

  “If you say so, Miggles.” I try to reply through my giggles.

  Shadowbolt, A.K.A Miggles shakes his head at me, his mane flowing around his head as he turns away from me.

  After saying a quick see you later, I leave and make my way up to the house and the glorious coffee.

  It’s amazing how a shitty morning can change to sunshine and giggles when you have a conversation with a talking horse.

  KILLIAN

  A gentle knock sounds through the kitchen. I turn from the stove to see Alina standing in the doorway with a tiny sheepish smile.

  “So, where’s this super strong coffee you promised?”

  “Right over there. Uh, I forgot to ask if you like eggs. I was making an omelet, but if you want something else I could—”

  “Eggs are perfect. Thank you, Killian. You didn’t need to go to any trouble for me. The coffee would have been more than enough,” she interrupts, stepping toward the coffee pot.

  The morning light filters through the kitchen window making Alina’s fiery hair appear luminous. I watch as she pours herself some coffee before taking a sip, closing her eyes, a small smile playing on her lips. She cradles the cup to her chest as if it was going to be taken from her at any moment.

  “Mmm, this is good,” she moans softly. Fuck!

  I swiftly turn back to the stove, trying to hide any evidence of what her moan did to me. Best to not freak her out, thinking you’re a perv.

  Behind me I hear the chair scrape lightly against the floor, letting me know she’s sitting down at the breakfast bar.

  I breathe in deeply, trying to regain my composure as I finish cooking. I plate up the omelet and walk over to Alina, placing it down in front of her.

  I pull my own chair out before sitting opposite her.

  “Thanks. What about you?” she asks looking up from the plate.

  “I’m good. I had some not long ago. Did you want some more coffee?”

  “I would love some more. You were right, it is pretty strong stuff.”

  “Told you. One thing my father always told me was no one has time for weak, shitty coffee. I kind of took that one to heart.”

  She smiles and starts to eat. The room fills with comfortable silence as I enjoy my coffee and cast fleeting glimpses at my guest.

  Taking the last bite, she leans back in her chair and grins.

  “That was delicious, who taught you how to cook?”

  “My father. Well, he did the best he could. He wasn’t exactly a whiz in the kitchen, but he did instill the idea I should always eat breakfast and start the day with something healthy.” I lean back in my own chair and smile wistfully at the memories of my father.

  “What about your mother? Did she teach you anything about cooking too?”

  “Nah, she didn’t hang around. She was a very ambitious woman, and unfortunately, a child simply didn’t fit in with her plans. She took off when I was about two or three years old, basically, as soon as she could.” I shrug it off. After all, I don’t really remember her, other than a few photos my father had shown me.

  Happy memories of my father trying to teach me how to cook pancakes enter my mind, as I look around the kitchen.

  “It sounds like your father is really good man if he raised you on his own.”

  “Yeah, he was. He, uh… He died nearly a month ago. Left me this place, he’d hoped I could fix it up, make it a working farm again,” I say as I begin to drum my fingers against my knee.

  “Oh. Wha… what happened? To your father I mean?” she stammers out.

  I look to the woman, wondering how much I should share. Her eyes hold great sympathy and compassion. They make me feel like I could tell her anything.

  “Brain tumor. He’d suffered from extreme migraines for decades. Gradually, they got worse and worse, so he was referred to a specialist. He was diagnosed relatively quickly.” I close my eyes and take a deep calming breath before continuing.

  “He declined rapidly. His moods would change so frequently, I would sometimes wonder if the man before me was even my father. He was angry and easily irritated, whereas before he was one of the kindest men you could ever meet. Luckily right at the end he was himself long enough for us to say our proper goodbyes.” Rehashing memories of my sick father and his subsequent death cause a painful ache in my heart. I miss him.

  I open my eyes—did I really have them closed that long? —to see Alina’s shimmering golden pools filled with unshed tears and a pained expression across her face.

  “Killian. I’m so sorry you had to go through that. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

  She reaches forward, placing her hand over mine, that strange tingle happens from her touch again, heat gently radiating from her skin.

  “It is what it is, Love. Somethings aren’t meant to last forever. That’s why we always need to live in the moment, otherwise life will pass us by, and before we know it, it’s gone.”

  I watch as she inhales sharply, before taking her hand away from mine and sitting back to sip more coffee. Her eyebrows are drawn together and she wears a small frown.

  “You okay, Love?”

  “Huh? Oh yeah, don’t worry about me. My head is all over the place at the moment. Can’t seem to remember which way is up,” she quickly replies, concentrating on the contents of her mug as if it held the answers to the universe.

  “Look. I know I said I wouldn’t pry or ask questions. But what happened to you? Are you in trouble?” I ask reaching up to scratch the back of my neck.

  “Wh… what? Trouble? No. It’s like I said last night. I got a little drunk and wandered off.”

  “And you just happened to be naked with your horse in tow? You can’t blame me for not believing that, can you?” I faintly smile, reaching out for her hand.

  She quickly pulls her hand back away from me, scrunching it up into a loose fist. Standing, she walks over to gaze out the kitchen windows in the direction of the barn.

  “I… I can’t tell you more than that right now. I’m sorry,” she breathes deeply, placing her mug down on the countertop in front of her. “Thank you for letting me stay last night, the food, coffee, everything. I’ll just go get Shadowbolt and we’ll be out of your hair in no time. If it’s okay with you, may I keep the clothes?” Turning to face me, I see that her eyes appear glazed over, filled with tears she won’t let fall.

  “No!”

  “Excuse me?” Her pained expression turns to confusion at my exclamation.

  “I mean yes you can keep the clothes. That’s not what I w—” Standing up, I release the breath I didn’t realize I was holding, as I take a few steps toward her. “Look, I know there’s something not right. Whether you’re searching for something, or running from it I don’t know. But I just can’t turn you away or watch you leave without knowing you’re going to be okay. Let me help you. Please.”

  “I don’t—” she turns away from me with her head lowered, “I can’t accept your help. I don’t know you, and you definitely don’t know me. I really appreciate everything you have done for me, but I don’t accept handouts. I’m not a charity case.”

  “I never said you were. I was just going to say that if you have nowhere to go, you’re more than welcome to stay here,” she turns around abruptly and I raise my hand up to stop her speaking.

  “Before you say no, just hear me out.” She bites her lip, but doesn’t say a word as she rests her back against the countertop.

  “Remember I told you about my father’s passing and that he wants me to get this farm up and running again?” I wait for her nod before continuing. “Well, as it so happens, I will need some help with odd jobs around here. Not too much work, mainly tidying up, painting. Maybe help with stock taking when I get to that point. I noticed you were quite strong last night when you smacked me with your arm during, well you know.”

  I watch Alina as she thinks my offer over, confusion
still evident on her face. I notice her hand fidgeting against her side, probably feeling bad about smacking me. I can’t really blame her though, she wasn’t in control.

  “I wouldn’t be able to pay you unfortunately, as I have limited funds, but I can offer you bed and board for you and Shadowbolt for as long as you both need. And maybe if you’re still around when I’m up and running again I could hire you properly. That is if you uh...if that’s what you want. What do you think?”

  She looks from me to the floor and then back up again.

  “I… I don’t know what to say Killian. That’s so generous and kind of you, but you don’t even know me. Not to mention you’re willing to not only let me and Shadowbolt stay, you’re willing to provide food and work for me. I just… I’m sorry, it’s just a lot to process. May I think about it?” she replies, her hands fidgeting at her sides.

  “Of course. And you’re right I don’t know you. But I dunno. I guess I just have a feeling about you. That I can trust you. I know that must sound weird, but it’s how I feel.”

  Shit, I’m not good at this communicating thing.

  “I understand. And thank you again. I really do appreciate it. I... I’m going to go and check on Shadowbolt. If that’s alright?”

  A delicate blush has spread across her cheeks, highlighting her numerous freckles and her tiny smile.

  “Yeah sure. I’ll head out back to the storage shed and see if I have any feed in there for him. Do you need anything else?” I beam in return.

  “No thank you. I… I’ll just go now, okay. See you in a bit.”

  After saying a quick bye, I watch her walk out of the kitchen and hear the back door open and shut as she leaves.

  I head over to the window to watch her sprinting over to the barn. I notice she is still barefoot and I make a mental note to get her some boots. Probably some other stuff too. I keep checking things off in my head I think she’ll need, such as clothes, bed linens and toiletries. When the sudden thought jumps in - What if she doesn’t want to stay?

  ALINA

  Hurrying toward the barn I try to collect my thoughts. I can’t believe he’s offered me somewhere to stay, even work. But the idea that keeps tainting Killian’s more than generous offer is too hard to ignore. Would he be safe?

  Approaching the barn, I notice Shadowbolt hasn’t said anything yet. I peer around the doorway and see he has fallen asleep.

  Hmm, at least someone is relaxing.

  “Not really relaxed, Sparky. More bored shitless, waiting for you to come back,” Shadowbolt replies, opening his eyes to stare at me as I walk inside.

  “I wasn’t gone that long,” I huff back.

  “A few hours at least.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were clingy.” I shrug, watching the muscles in his thick neck tense.

  “I’m not! I’m not clingy,” he grumbles, turning away from me.

  “Someone who counts down the amount of time someone has been away from them is called being clingy, Miggles,” I can’t help but tease.

  “It’s not that I’m clingy. It was just, well, I was just a bit worried, okay?”

  “Worried? About what? Only last night you were saying Killian wouldn’t hurt me. He’s been nothing but kind and generous. What’s changed since then?

  “I wasn’t worried about him hurting you. I was worried about you because of last night and your meltdown earlier. I was just concerned about how you were feeling.”

  “That was not a breakdown. It was… I was just hangry. My emotions got the better of me, because I was just really hungry,” I stammer out.

  “You can pretend all you want. I know what you’re really thinking, remember? If you don’t want to call it a meltdown, then don’t. We’ll call it an emotional overload. How’s that? Better?" he replies, turning to face me once again.

  “That sounds worse if anything. I’m always a little bit skittish after a regeneration. It’s about now the nightmares are at their worst and I have more flashbacks of the past.”

  “Are the flashbacks good? I mean are they of happy things?”

  “Sometimes they are, but more often than not they always end with a nightmare and someone getting killed.” Despair is all I feel for the ones I’ve loved and lost.

  “Is that what happened last night? I felt happy emotions before and then something happened and all I could sense was a fog of anguish.”

  A tiny nod is all I can do in reply. The painful memories eclipsing anything happy.

  “You can feel my emotions?”

  “Sort of. I can only sense a certain amount. Like at the moment I can feel you're hurting, you’re worried about something but right in the recesses of your mind, I can sense hope. Is that right?” He steps forward, lowering his head to brush his nose against my temple.

  “Yes. I’m confused about what to do next. I have always kept myself moving, never really settling anywhere, not making myself a home. And…” I suck in a lungful of air before shakily exhaling.

  “And Killian has offered you that. I heard one or two bits of your conversation. You want to accept, but you're scared about Killian.”

  “I’m not scared about him. I’m scared for him. What...what if, because I’m here, I put him in danger? I can’t have his blood on my hands. I have enough mental scars and if anything happened to him, if I caused his death, I… I just wouldn’t know what to do.”

  I slump toward Shadowbolt, resting my head against his neck. Seeking any comfort, I can find.

  “Nothing will happen to him, Sparky.”

  “How can you be so sure? You think because a Goddess told you of my existence, it means you know everything about me. You fail to realize, it’s not just the monsters who hunt me that makes me scared for him. It’s me too.”

  “I’m a monster.”

  Many Centuries Ago…

  “Freak! Alina’s a freak.”

  The men and women gather around where I stand, they call me freak, ugly, weird. Anything they can to hurt me. A particularly vile cretin launches spit at my face as he yanks my hair.

  “Leave me alone, please. I’ve done nothing to you. Why do you do this to me?” I plead, wrapping my arms around myself in effort to cocoon my body against their fists.

  “You’re a freak. What other reason do we need?” A woman callously replies.

  “What do you want from me?” I ask, looking up at the numerous faces twisted in disgust, focused on me.

  “You’re not wanted here.”

  “Freak.”

  “You’re not one of us.”

  “Abomination.”

  “You should be dead.”

  Names and taunts echo all around me, clouding my mind with their hatred and anger. I have never done anything to hurt anyone. Yet, all I have ever received is their cruelty.

  If it wasn’t for Branor I would be completely alone. He’s the only person who holds me together against the storm that is their hatred. The summer we are getting married is finally here, except the villagers do not agree with our union. What was meant to be the eve of my wedding has turned into a rabble of villagers thirsting for my blood.

  Unexpectedly, I am rapidly pushed forward. My knees scrape against the ground as the skin tears and pain begins to radiate from the new wounds.

  I’m too stunned to notice the first kick which lands in my ribs.

  Hunching forward from the affliction, I’m not quick enough to stop the next kick to my back.

  The kicks and punches start coming in quick succession. One after the other.

  My body twists and pulls against the pain being inflicted on me.

  I feel large clumps of my hair being torn from my scalp.

  Insult after insult is thrown at me in sequence with their attack.

  “You’re not wanted.”

  “You should just die.”

  “No one wants you.”

  “You’re nothing.”

  I cover my ears to block out their yelling. I’m powerless to stop them.

&nb
sp; I feel my bruised, mangled body begin to grow weaker, as tears fall down my dirt covered cheeks.

  Maybe they will kill me. Maybe then it’ll all be over and I won’t suffer anymore.

  I try to curl within myself, the barrage of torture too much for me to cope with.

  I wait to die.

  “ALINA!!”

  Branor’s pained cry is muffled against the blood filling my ears but it is there.

  “Get off of her! Don’t touch her! Alina!”

  I slowly open my eyes and through the haze of my tears I can see three men holding Branor back from me.

  He struggles against them, calling my name, trying to get to me, but he can’t reach me.

  He lets out a deafening roar as he launches himself forward in a desperate attempt to get free. The men stumble backward as Branor races forward.

  He is so focused on his attempt to get to me he doesn’t notice another man creep up behind him.

  I try to scream out, but my mouth is filled with saliva and blood the metallic taste gagging me as I choke.

  I watch in horror as the man behind him raises a large log above him before he slams it into Branor’s back.

  Anger consumes me. It feels like an inferno raging within. How dare they hurt my Branor.

  My fingertips begin to tingle, warmth filling them. I feel no pain as my body warms through, emanating from deep within.

  I haven’t noticed the beatings had stopped as I feel a sudden surge of strength.

  I pull myself off of the ground, ignoring those around me. My eyes are laser focused on the man who dared to hurt my love.

  The dark-haired man’s eyes are wide and staring at my hands.

  I look down to see what he was looking at and notice large, crackling red flames engulfing my hands and lower arms.

  As shocked as I am, I still look back up to the man before me.

  Stepping forward I feel the group of people move apart as I make my way over to him.

  Startled whispers and shouts reverberate around me, but all I can see is the despicable creature in front of me.

 

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