by K L Hagaman
The Towen simply smiled. Apparently it did.
“I’ll tell her.”
“Thank you.”
“Oh!” Seeva chimed with remembrance. “I almost forgot,” she said, pulling out a letter from the long pocket of her smock-like dress. “Another message from the Princess of Wys.”
Kaden’s brow perked eagerly, his heart taking to a quick flutter, and Seeva chuckled, handing it over before leaving him to his reading.
“Thank you!” he called out after her, already breaking the seal to tuck into his letter, eager and pleased.
But the smile he wore in his heart soon faltered.
My Ocean,
I’m thankful, so thankful, to hear such good things about your arm. The fact you’re coming along as far as you are so quickly makes my heart happy, Kaden. You better is all I want. I’m forever grateful for the Towen.
And I wish the same— that we could talk face to face. It would make what I have to share easier. But maybe not, with you being…so you. xo
The scout heading into Tokū that I mentioned, Kaden, is me. Before you jump out of your skin, I need you to hear me. I am Commander of the Wys. I have duties that cannot be ignored and I am more than aptly trained to fulfill them. I’ll be fine. And this is a simple, short mission, and then I’ll be back before we know it, and with answers. Answers that could prevent another war.
And before you protest, it must be me who goes. It is because of my uncle that the territories have found themselves where they are today, and I must do what I can to correct the course set by my blood.
I promise to send word as soon as I return, and I hope to find you even better than you are now.
Tell Haleth I appreciate her care of you.
With all my love, Kaden. Truly.
-Your Moon
The letter fell to the floor below the Keeper’s bed as he slipped out and rounded his nest, opening the wardrobe there to collect his things. He took his bag, and after a moment’s hesitation, dumped out most of the scrolls and started packing what he could from his room. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.
He took his collection of balm, combining what was left in the bowls and containers he had accumulated into one or two small jars. He could get by with the amount he had, especially with the batch just sent to him. Then he threw in some of the bread and apples kept in his room and cinched up the lot.
With care, he straightened his bad arm and slid it through the sleeve of a shirt. He took pause a moment after, breathing deeply before he worked his other arm through the other sleeve—that one with far less strain. He went through the same efforts with a coat, wool-lined and pale-leathered on the outside—part of the aforementioned stock-pile of clothes he’d been supplied with upon arrival. After lacing up and fastening off his blood-stained boots, the only thing he’d been wearing before Shinrin that had been salvageable apparently, he headed out.
But as to where…
With a brief look at the late-afternoon sun, he had a bearing to get him started, but what he didn’t have was a way down from the trees. Such a ridiculous hurdle—
“What are you doing?” came the concerned song of Haleth as he stood outside his nest. She was clad in a thick, forest-green coat and a pink nose, as if she’d just been on a long walk.
Kaden, having been lost to a plot of calculating thoughts, looked over his good shoulder, his pack hanging from it. His mouth parted, but before he could get anything out, the Towen was cutting him off.
“You’re not ready,” she warned, almost dangerously. Upset.
Kaden pulled a hand down his face and looked around for a minute, scratching at his stubbled jaw, maybe hoping to find some words he could pull out of the air. Her own may have been true—and he did appreciate all Shinrin had done for him, more than he could express—but he couldn’t afford to stay any longer.
“Is it your Princess? Is she in trouble or something?” Haleth questioned in a quiet sourness, cocking her head with a few swinging curls as her usual air was replaced with one almost foul in her detest.
She truly did wear her heart on her sleeve.
The Keeper stopped and looked at her, brow knitting a little. “I have a charge—“
“And it nearly got you killed before.”
“Haleth—“ he started, knowing…what she wished he didn’t. She’d grown attached to him in the days she’d cared for him. She’d felt his heart, sensitive to energies as the Towen were, and she favored it. …She wanted it. …She wanted him—she felt a connection.
But he could not give to her what Lilja already possessed.
“She doesn’t care for you,” Haleth said a little coldly, though quietly, as she felt the time to say such a thing was running out while she stepped in front of Kaden to keep his eyes. The reds of her own burned gently with a glow like heated iron. “If she did, she would release you from such a ridiculous charge.” From certain death.
“It’s not like she threw me in front of the bullet, Haleth,“ Kaden started incredulously, annoyance that she thought so little of Lilja bubbling in his chest as he looked down at her.
“She did the minute she accepted your oath,” Haleth tried to reason. “A Keeper is doomed to die for their charge. And she let you take that. She’s a coward and unworthy of such affections and loyalty from one like you.”
Kaden’s good arm trembled, and he clenched his fist, his other laying rather listlessly at his side. “She did not take anything I did not freely give,” he said in tones most stern. Haleth did not know his Princess. Or him. Not really.
She opened her mouth once more, but it was Kaden now who silenced with a step closer, bridging the gap between them entirely to make things quite plain.
“Keeper or not, I would, and will, stay by her side and guard her with all I have. The vow I took was not for her, Haleth, it was for me, so that I might protect more easily what I love most in this world.” Who he loved most.
This had never been about the Wys and some distorted, grandiose idea of duty and charge. It had been because he’d loved her.
Always.
Haleth’s lips trembled softly as she stared up into Kaden’s face, and the brokenness of her heart she did not keep to herself.
But he did well not to flinch beneath its weight, despite its severity.
“She does not deserve you,” Haleth whispered softly, but in defeat, just wanting those few last words.
The feeling in Kaden’s heart lifted as the Towen rose on her tip-toes and kissed his cheek, lingering there a moment when she did, breath warm on his skin.
“Haleth—“ he started in a slightly more gentle tone, though the heat of his annoyance still rang clear.
“To your right. Follow the path and you’ll find the bridges down. There are some shuttles on the outskirts—no one will miss one.” If he walked, he’d not make it out of the woods, and her people, being how they were, rarely used such technologies and wouldn’t notice the absence of the ship. The shuttles had been gifted to them by the Kawa many years ago and normally sat unused.
Kaden licked his lips, eyes trailing about her face, close still as she was. “Thank you,” he finally hummed between them.
“If you need me, Kaden,” she went on softly, eyes dancing in his a little more, the crimson in them still warm. “I’m here.”
And then he watched her go, red curls bounding in time with her soft steps before she ducked into her home at the end of the bridge and he could see them no more.
With a steady breath and a brush of his hand over his heart, he turned and left the Towen.
✽✽✽
Joss and a comrade lowered the craft just outside Toku’s southernmost border. There was a string of mountains there that funneled out into the ocean where the clouds always flew low and thick. The visibility was poor, which was ideal when you wanted to get in undetected.
Not even touching down, the shuttle hovered a few feet above the ground and Lilja jumped, adorned in a misty, rock-gray uniform and pack to bette
r stay unseen against the bedrock of the mountains she’d be scaling.
After a signal and salute, Joss pulled up, and she was left grounded, looking up at him through a whirlwind of dried leaves.
Out of sight, alone in the woods, Lilja headed north to the mountains.
✽✽✽
Just as Haleth had said, a few Kawa-made crafts sat on the outskirts of Shinrin. Kaden brushed off a few branches, neglected as they’d been, and lifted the hatch with his good arm. The strain carried over through his shoulders a little, but he paid it no mind as he climbed in. Since that night in Dorai, pain had been a part of the norm for him.
He powered up the shuttle with a flip of a few switches and waited as lights activated around the small cabin. The battery needed some charging, and he was forced to wait a bit. He used the time to check the instruments and review the difference in controls. Overall, the basics were the same.
“I can do this, right?” he said to himself, locking down the hatch from the inside.
Yeah, he could. He could do it. But as to the degree of finesse in which he was doing it, well, that was another thing entirely.
Finally ready, the craft wobbled as it rose up through the towering pines, clearing them through a calculated break in the canopy. After a moment, he’d balanced out the wings with a steady hand. Then with a bit more power than was necessary or intended, he’d shot forward through the sky, northeast for the coast of Tokū. He was wagering the terrain and cloud cover there had earned it the placement for the insertion. At the very least, it’d be a good place to start his hunt. He didn’t think he’d be too far behind her— his Princess. The time he’d lost due to the lag in communication was made up for by the fact that Shinrin was a lot closer to Tokū than Dorai was.
On foot, the journey would have taken him days, but as the crow flew, it was only a matter of a few hours. The mountains of Tokū soon loomed on the horizon as dark silhouettes, their snowy caps a glowing haze in the moonlight. And it was over them that he spotted a small light gliding over the horizon. He killed the lights on his craft and slowed to hover, thinking.
He knew the Tokū and Shinrin didn’t use shuttles and that the Kawa’s patrol didn’t run here. So, that meant the ship he was looking at was either from Dorai or the Faithful. But there was only one way to know, and feeling secure in his distance and that he’d not already been spotted should he need a getaway, he popped on his comm and hailed the craft.
It was Dorai.
After some verification from both parties and careful chatter, a rendezvous was decided upon for more private discussions lest their conversation be intercepted over the airwaves. Use of caution was more than wise here.
They touched down in some dunes with fair visibility and shared a brief exchange. The Keeper had been on the mark—he wasn’t at all far behind his Princess.
With thanks and regards to the Dorai for their support, Kaden headed to where his Princess had been dropped, lights off and engines quiet.
Regardless of her capabilities, the fact she’d been left alone at the base of the mountains in possible enemy territory was making Kaden’s already anxious soul itch.
Commander or not, she was still his moon.
Chapter Fourteen
The Moon
The Keeper touched down at the given coordinates and pulled some shrubbery over the top his craft for a bit more protection in regards to the eyes of Tokū scouts. Then with little more, he set off for the mined mountains—the direction he knew his Princess would be headed in her own explorations.
Being by the ocean, the night was a cold one. The winds pulled up and over the chilled water and butted up against the mountains and with no place left to go, the moisture created a sort of frosty, crystallized haze.
Kaden popped open his jacket and tugged it down over his bad arm, seeking the mist out to cool and calm his angry shoulder.
It didn’t do much.
With a longer gait and knowing Lilja more than likely was making camp for the night soon, Kaden kept his eyes peeled for signs of traffic, knowing she couldn’t be far. He didn’t find much in the form of physical signs of her. She was good, his Princess, at covering her tracks.
But her energy…that he’d never mistake again. Knowing now he had the ability to sense such things, that he always had—that it’d been real—he listened to his heart with a newly attentive spirit.
He was close. But as to how close…
A twig snapped behind him, signaling a presence a little too late. He held his arms out to his sides, one a bit more than the other, showing himself unarmed. He’d found her.
He knew before he’d even turned to look over his shoulder, his hair set aglow by the moonlight.
“Keeper?!” Lilja’s voice sprang under the stars.
His eyes caught her in time to make out the detail of her silhouette as she stowed her dagger and took off for him. In the seconds he had to prepare, he did his best to turn and catch her, snatching her up against him with a firm arm as her own were flung around his neck in devout embrace.
He grimaced from the impact, blissful as it was, but tucked the expression into her shoulder that it might not catch her eye.
The pleasure was far greater than the pain.
For a time they stood there, holding on to each other for dear life, it felt. A break in the chaos. But eventually, the Princess fell back down to the earth on gentle heels, looking up at her Keeper with damp eyes glistening under the moon as she raked her hands back through those thick curls of his. The last time she’d done that, they’d been caked in blood, and she seemed to be searching his face for such things even now.
Death. Life.
“How are you here? Are you alright? How’s your arm?!” The questions grew a little less joyful and a bit more troubled as they mounted. With his jacket open as it was she helped herself to a look.
He didn’t stop her. All she’d find was bandaging.
“I’m alright,” he told her, eyes trailing about her face as his heart steadied. He hadn’t realized just how out of sorts it had felt away from her. Not fully. Not totally. Not until she was there to make it right again.
His hand rose to her face and his thumb brushed along her fine jaw.
Her eyes flitted from his shoulder to meet his, and just…watched. She just looked at him while he looked at her. For such a simple thing, it certainly meant the world to them both.
“I’ve missed you,” he hushed eventually.
“I’ve missed you, too,” she whispered back. More than he could possibly know.
“But you’re an idiot and I’m angry at you,” she went on, voice oddly tender for the sincere words spoken.
Kaden’s brow bounced lightly, and he chuckled.
“Seriously, Kaden,” Lilja reprimanded with affectionate hands still drawing through his hair for as stern as her voice was. “You disobeyed a direct order. I know you’re not well, I can see it in your eyes. I told you to stay in Shinrin. This is a scouting mission. I can handle this. I don’t need you here! I need you healing!”
“I’ll go back after,” he promised quietly in an easy voice to assure her, his eyes never leaving hers. “Like you said, it’s just a simple scouting mission. Look at it like,” he popped his lips, glancing up at the sky for a second before he had the words. “—a mini getaway.”
“A getaway?” she repeated, deadpan, chin tucking down as her brows rose.
“Why not?” he shrugged with a single shoulder. “Nice bit of backpacking in the mountains—”
Lilja rolled her eyes.
“Oh! Speaking of, I was right, wasn’t I? About you rolling your eyes in the letters—“
“Keeper!” she cut him off, not able to help herself from the irritable laughter that sprang out. He was terribly…obnoxious and yet terribly…endearing. It really was a curious charm all his own.
A charm he seemed to be well aware of which only made matters worse.
Lilja settled down with a sigh and took a step backwards al
l the same, tugging his hand for him to follow.
“Camp’s this way,” she beckoned. “Rest with me.” He looked like he needed it.
Good Keeper as he could be, he followed. The walk wasn’t a far one, and before too long he could make out the inky dome of her tent. It glowed ever so faintly as the small heater within warmed the space in lieu of a more attention gaining fire. Lilja drew back the tent’s flap for him and he ducked in, dropping his pack and plopping down.
“Hungry?” she asked of him as she came in behind him and took a spot over some padding and a sleeping bag.
“I’m alright,” he murmured, honestly just happy to be with her and wanting a bit of rest. He felt it would be sounder now that they were together.
Lilja’s eyes were soft over him as his own lulled shut and he dropped his head back to relax a minute.
“Kaden?”
“Hmm?” he breathed out, cracking a lazy eye.
“Let me see it.”
Slowly, his head rose and both eyes opened—green and true as ever. But there was a sudden edge there.
She drew closer, sitting on her knees in front of him and reached out, slowly.
He swallowed thickly and drew it back a little. “No,” he hushed, eyes cast down between them as he caught her wrist.
Her hand hovered, but she didn’t withdraw it. Its path changed, and she took hold of his face, turning it up to her with tenderness.
The truth was, he didn’t mind it—the scar. He’d meant what he’d said that no mark he bore on her behalf would ever be ill to him. But he knew that if she saw it…he knew what it would do to her heart, and he wanted to protect her from that. From pain and guilt.
“Don’t hide from me,” she whispered. “Not for any reason.”
She knew what caution lay in his heart and why. She knew him well enough…
After a moment in her keep and a bit more thought of the inevitable, Kaden tilted his head and opened the path to his shoulder for her.