"M...Momal?"
Momal—no, Korrin—gave him a wink before his features melted back into those the Ancient had held before. Phan gave the Ancient a playful shove. "Always one for the dramatics, aren't you?" It was odd seeing the two Ancients acting reminiscent of how he and Namida used to act together. His brow furrowed, though. All Korrin had done was spark more questions within him, rather than providing any real answers.
"Phan? Korrin...?"
The hesitant voice grabbed Darwe's attention, and he pulled himself sluggishly to a standing position, looking to the side opposite the two Ancients to find another approaching. His breath hitched as he took in the lithe, powerful form of the first Ancient of Fate. Ternalara was all toned muscle and sinew, the mid thigh-length, sleeveless white gown draped over her form only serving to accentuate the power in her bare limbs. Her tanned skin contrasted against her stark white hair, her bright blue eyes staring straight into his dark brown ones and rendering him speechless. There was a brief flash of emotion across her face as she stared at him before quickly turning to the two Ancients beyond him.
"Who brought him here?" She snapped, and he could feel the anger that practically oozed from her, if her clenched fists and jaw were anything to go by. Why was she so angry? They had saved his life, after all. He was sure the confusion was written all over his face as she glanced back at him for a moment, and he could swear that the emotion that flashed across her face as she did was pain.
"Calm, Ternalara," Phan said in a placating voice, and Ternalara's lips twisted into a snarl. "He was going to die. You know we wouldn't have brought him here for anything else."
There was a flash of something else—guilt?—across the first Ancient's face, only further confusing Darwe as she hesitantly looked back at him. She frowned, taking a few steps towards him until she was just outside of arm's reach. He found it a little hard to breathe being face-to-face with her. She was a force to be reckoned with, and the one that helped the first humans the most with establishing actual villages and cities throughout the realm, making the transition from traveling hunting tribes to farmers, fishers and tradesmen. If the stories passed down through the generations held any truth to them, then she had helped them grow their first crops, befriended the humans, and both lived and convened with them for decades until her human best friend had passed away, at which point she had sworn to her friend's descendents that she would watch over them for the rest of her days in honor of her friend.
Ternalara lifted her hand, and for a moment it looked as though she might reach out to touch his face, but then there was that pain in her eyes again. Her hand dropped limply back to her side.
"You look just like him," she said so quietly it was barely a whisper. His brow furrowed as he tried to understand what she was referring to, but then it hit him, the revelation like a weight that plummeted through him.
"Dravo?" he asked, incredulous. Ternalara's eyes closed in response, as if just hearing the name uttered brought her back to a time long past. "He...he was my ancestor?"
Ternalara nodded, her eyes shining with emotion when they opened again. "It was centuries ago, but when I look at you, it's like..." Her hand clenched and relaxed at her side, as though she were still fighting the urge to reach out to him. She swallowed audibly. "It's like he's still alive."
Darwe had the strangest urge to reach out to her and tell her that it was going to be okay. There was a faint echo in the back of his mind that thought it hurt to see her so sad and hurting. He blinked at the sensation and shook his head. This was not what he needed to be doing right now. Namida was somewhere, hopefully alive. No—definitely alive. There was a strain in his chest, like he knew she was far away, but safe for now. He needed to trust in that feeling. He reached out and grabbed Ternalara's hands, ignoring the shock on her face as she met his eyes once more.
"I need your help, Ternalara," he said. "Namida, my friend, she's somewhere. Where, I don't know, but she—I need to make sure she's safe." His eyes burned with unshed tears, the desperate need to find Namida again filling him so full it hurt. "Please. I need to protect her." Even the awe that filled him at the presence of the Ancients could not overwhelm the undeniable urge to go to her, to watch over her when she would not do it herself, so obsessed with things outside of herself that she would forget to eat or sleep at regular intervals.
Ternalara's gaze softened, but she gently pried her hands out of his own. He braced himself for the let-down that would inevitably come.
"Alright." His heart stuttered with the surge of hope that swept through him at that simple word. "I will not deny Dravo's descendant their happiness."
"Thank you," Darwe whispered, feeling a few tears slip down his face unbidden. He didn't bother to wipe them away as he gave Ternalara's hands a grateful squeeze. "I will not forget your kindness."
Just like that, she would not meet his eyes again. "It is to repay my debt to Dravo, nothing more," she murmured, but he could swear there was a familiar loneliness that echoed in the words, one that reminded him so much of Namida it was almost uncanny. It was odd to him to see such parallels between the broken woman he loved and an all-powerful Ancient. He shook his head as if to free it of the thought, fire burning in his eyes as a look of determination came over him.
He would be reunited with Namida again, and he would watch over her with all that he had—even if it cost him his life.
When Comes the Fire Page 19