by Elise Kova
A middle-aged woman wearing an apron, flour up to her elbows, stared up at the soldier at her doorstep. The confusion on her face made Vhalla worry that perhaps in Daniel’s current mental state he had brought them to the wrong home. All her concerns were shattered when the woman let out a wail of shock, followed quickly by tears.
“Danny, my boy!” the woman cried, throwing her arms around Daniel’s shoulders.
“Danny boy?” an older man blubbered as he appeared, blinking at the travelers on his doorstep. As soon as his eyes fell on the two embracing family members, he reached out and took them in his arms.
“Ma, Pa,” Daniel let out in a voice that Vhalla had never heard from him before. “I-I deserted my post. I—”
“Shh, my darling child, quiet.” The woman stroked the hair of her son as he clung to her tightly.
“I-I k-killed—”
“Only the people he had to so that he could return home to you,” Vhalla interrupted.
Her interjection into the conversation broke the moment, and all three turned to look at her. Daniel rubbed his nose with the back of his hand, the one that was missing his gauntlet. Vhalla gave him an encouraging smile. The blood would never wash off his hands; she was all too familiar with that. But he could begin to put it behind him. He could let himself be home.
“Who are your friends?” his mother finally asked.
“They are . . .” Clearly uncertain at how to respond, Daniel wavered.
“My name is Vhalla Yarl,” she answered for him once more.
“Don’t use your real name!” Elecia hissed in disagreement.
“Fritznangle Charem, of the noble Charem clan!” Fritz announced cheerfully, pulling back his hood.
“Elecia, of the actual noble house Ci’Dan,” Elecia sighed in resignation.
“Jax,” the Western man spoke simply.
All eyes landed on Aldrik expectantly. With the smallest of sighs, he released his reins and reached up for the sides of his hood. His hair hung limply around his face, an equal mess to the grime that covered them all. But it didn’t matter. His commanding presence was never powered by his adornments, despite what Vhalla may have thought at one point or another. The very skin of the man before her was fire, he burned with something stronger than all his carefully cut clothes and imposing black armor.
“Emperor Aldrik Ci’Dan Solaris.”
“What?” The woman glanced among them at the odd proclamations. “Daniel, these people, surely you must know what’s happened at the capital.”
“I do.” Daniel jerked away from his mother’s touch. “I know very well what’s happened in the capital.” He sighed heavily, letting out the sharpness in his voice. “But I also know that they are who they say they are. And if it wasn’t for them, I wouldn’t be alive.”
“Then, my lord,” the woman addressed Aldrik. “Thank you for returning my son home safely to us.”
“Do not thank me.” Aldrik motioned to Vhalla. “Thank my lady.”
Whatever gratitude the woman was heaping upon her was momentarily overshadowed as Vhalla stared up at Aldrik. His lady, those words, so publically spoken. They no longer hid their love for the other—they embraced it for all to see.
“Let us give you dinner, somewhere to stay for the night,” the woman offered.
“We can find arrangements in town,” Aldrik said definitively. “I would not want to put your family at further risk with our presence. But my thanks for your offer of hospitality.”
“Anything for the true Emperor.” The woman smiled, and it looked as though her face hadn’t worn that expression in far too long. “And the people who brought Daniel home to us.”
“Will you put an end to this nonsense about the Supreme King?” Daniel’s father asked.
“We will.” There was no hesitation about Aldrik.
“Vhalla . . .” Daniel turned to her.
She looked up at him and staring back was the tired shell of a man she once knew. Coming home had done him good, and the rough edges were already smoothing out around him. But he had been so horribly broken that Vhalla knew his mental shape would forever be altered.
Were it not for her, he would not be in this state. He would still be that man with whom she had sat on a rooftop at the Crossroads. A man who would have been hers if the stars constellated a different design for her heart.
“I’m sorry.” Vhalla struggled to find any volume to her words. “I’m sorry for what I have done.”
“Vhalla?” He was understandably confused.
“I know you don’t understand.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “And that’s okay, you don’t have to. But I want you to hear me and take my promise that I will fix this. I will put an end to the caverns once and for all.”
“I believe you.” With that simple agreement, he added fuel to her purpose. His belief in her was more than she deserved, and she would treasure it forever.
Vhalla hugged him gently, a creature that she knew would spook if she moved too quickly or held too tightly. “Stay safe, and be happy.”
Jax was waiting behind her when she released Daniel. Vhalla hadn’t even heard him dismount, and the man was still as a statue. The two Golden Guards, likely the last two living members, assessed each other.
“Soldier,” Jax took a long pause to gather both words and emotions. “You’re dismissed from your post.”
It was something Vhalla would’ve never thought to say, but the profound impact it had on Daniel was instantaneous. Tears glistened in his eyes, overflowing at the corners. He reached for Jax, and the two men embraced.
“Baldair would want you to know that.” Jax rested a palm on the top of his head. “You have been honorably dismissed from the guard.”
Jax drew his hood as soon as he broke away from Daniel. They all did as they rode out and away from Daniel’s home. Elecia and Fritz talked lightly between themselves, the distance from the South finally beginning to lighten the mood between them all. But one of them still had a dark cloud hanging over his head. Jax kept his head down, and his hood drawn tightly around his face, all the way into Paca.
The small Eastern town was just as Vhalla remembered it. A worn town hall was the largest building, a small stage for announcements and elections at its front. It was also where the band would play during the Festival of the Sun. She paused, smiling fondly.
“Is this your home town, Vhal?” Fritz stopped as well.
“No.” She shook her head. “But my family would often come here to trade in the market or for important events. Leoul is even smaller than this, not much there.”
“How far is your home from here?”
Vhalla hummed in thought. “Perhaps a day’s ride northwest?”
“Not in the direction we’re headed then,” Fritz sighed on her behalf.
“No, it’s not.” Vhalla couldn’t keep the wistful longing out of her voice.
“We should go,” Aldrik said definitively.
“To Leoul?”
“To your home,” he clarified.
“But it’s a day’s ride out of the way, and we’re in a hurry,” Vhalla protested weakly.
“I think we should go as well.” Elecia was the last person Vhalla expected to voice her support. She elaborated at Vhalla’s inquisitive stare, “Family is incredibly important. I would want to make sure my father was safe.”
“We will stay here for the night, get a good night’s sleep, and ride to your home tomorrow.”
The Emperor had spoken, and a weird mess of contradictions waged war in Vhalla’s chest. She was excited to go home. She missed her father desperately after all that had happened. But she was terrified of what she may find. Her origins were no secret. What if Victor had sent a monster out for her father? And even if her father was safe, what if he wanted nothing to do with her? So much had changed since she was last home. Would he be proud of the woman she had become?
Luckily, Vhalla knew the route to the in
n well enough that she didn’t have to dedicate much of her cluttered mind to it. There wasn’t any risk of the inn being filled, given the circumstances of the world, so they didn’t have to fight for stables. An old man, bald at the top and white on the sides, was asleep on the counter.
“Geral?” Vhalla blinked at how little had changed. Between her speaking and the door closing behind Fritz, the portly man stirred, adjusting his suspenders.
“W-welcome!” He coughed away the sleep that was stuck in his throat. “Not many travelers these days! How can I help you?”
“Geral, is it really you?”
“Well, I don’t know who else I’d be,” he chuckled. “And who is really you, miss?”
Vhalla lowered her hood, and he stared at her face blankly. She knew her hair was a mess and she was caked in dirt. Crossing the gap to let him get a better look, Vhalla rested her hands on the countertop that she had been barely tall enough to see over the last time she’d touched it. Geral squinted at her from the other side.
“I . . .” Disappointment hit her harder than she expected when he was unable to place her. “I was just a girl the last time I was here. It makes sense you don’t remember me. I would always come with my mother and father for the Festival of the Sun and . . .” She daydreamed away for a long moment. “Sorry, we’ll need a room for the night.”
“Two,” Aldrik corrected.
“Three silver.” The man turned to fetch keys that hung on hooks behind the desk as Aldrik placed the money on the counter.
“So, ladies’ room and gents’ room?” Elecia inquired as they headed up the stairs. Aldrik shot her a look that explained such was not the case, eliciting a sharp gasp. “Don’t make me sleep with them!”
“You’ve been sleeping with them the whole time.” Aldrik rolled his eyes and thrust one key into Elecia’s hand.
“That’s different! There was no alternative. This is so improper.”
“Be improper with me, Lady Ci’Dan.” Jax waggled his eyebrows.
“Don’t give the lady trouble,” Aldrik scolded.
“I’m never trouble!” Fritz pouted.
Jax smirked proudly. “I’m always trouble.”
“Cousin, you are lucky I love you.” Elecia’s sharp glare didn’t have weight behind it, and Aldrik smiled tiredly. “And I get first choice of bed.”
“Second!” Fritz bounded into their room behind her.
Jax didn’t move. “I’d like to stand guard outside your chambers.”
Vhalla blinked in surprise, realizing he was addressing her. She’d almost forgotten that he had been her close shadow on the ride, not only because they were traveling in a pack, but also because he had somehow become her sworn guard.
“Jax, go rest.” The Westerner folded his arms on his chest at Aldrik’s demand. “If something happens to her while she’s tucked in my arms, it will never be blamed on you.”
“Happy to serve.” Jax bowed, pausing before the still open door Elecia and Fritz had disappeared within. “Oh, and if you two need a third, be sure to let me know!” With a wink and a laugh, he popped into the room.
Aldrik shook his head. “That man.”
“Never a dull moment,” Vhalla agreed.
The room was small and tidy. A single rope bed, a small table at its side. The window was drawn to keep out the cool nighttime breezes.
“What is it?” Aldrik asked, closing the door behind him.
“They didn’t have glass the last time I was here.” Vhalla rested her hand on the pane. “But not much else has changed.”
Two warm palms fell on her hips, and Vhalla felt the length of his body behind her. The perpetual heat that radiated off him was a contrast to everything else in the harsh world. She leaned back into that warmth, letting his hands slide around her front to hold her tightly to him.
“You’ve changed,” his breath moved her hair as he spoke.
“I have,” she whispered in reply. If nothing else, that one fact was certainly true. When last in the East, she had been a girl without purpose. Now she had an inkling of what the weight of the world felt like. She knew how the title of nobility fit her shoulders and the greater role she had to play. She wouldn’t return to her father an unaware girl.
He rounded to face her. “And I love the woman you have become, deeply and completely.”
“I love you, Aldrik.” Vhalla savored his touch as he palmed her face. “And I fear I always will.”
“Ah, Vhalla.” He chuckled, pausing just before his lips came into contact with hers. “That is the one thing I do not fear.”
CHAPTER 6
The Emperor had certainly been fearless that night when it came to heaping his adoration upon his lady. He had reminded her of the fire that lived in his veins. He immolated her passion at the altar of their mutual vows. The early rays of dawn peeking through the glass of the window found them still tangled.
A banging on the door interrupted their otherwise peaceful morning, pulling them from slumber. Vhalla groaned and rolled over. Two arms enveloped her, stronger than they looked.
“Aldrik.” She pressed her face into his bare chest. They had found a basic washroom the night previously and, while he didn’t have access to his usual eucalyptus scented soap, he still held the aroma of smoke and steel, a scent all his own.
“What is it?”
“You’re here.” Given the madness that had passed, something about waking up in his arms, skin on skin, was wonderfully impossible. It affirmed that not only had last night been real, but it had been the tiny glimpse of a future they fought for.
“Where else would I be?” He chuckled deeply, laying a sweet kiss upon her.
“Nowhere else, never again.”
“Are you both up yet?” Jax called through the door. “Let me know if you’re naked so I can come in.”
“Jax.” Elecia’s voice was sharp as the daggers her eyes likely were throwing him. “Do not make me think anything of the sort about my cousin, please.”
“We all know what happened. It’s not like they were quiet,” Jax shot back.
Elecia began singing a Western song, loudly, over her companion’s words.
“What did we do, forcing those two together?” Vhalla laughed as she sat up. She didn’t feel the least bit guilty for her passions; there wasn’t even a ghost of a blush on her cheeks.
“Elecia could survive loosening up a bit.” Aldrik stood.
Now, there was a sight that would put color on her face.
Jax began rambling, “Oh my liege, the day has begun, let us start the fun, the time of the sun, has indeed come, so won’t you please—”
“Oh, Mother, don’t talk in rhymes,” Aldrik groaned through the door. “It’s the only thing worse than your sense of humor. We’ll be down in a moment.”
Their illusion of peace dissipated like the morning’s fog over a field. Soon enough, clothes were back on their rightful frames and cloaks were thrown over their shoulders. Vhalla considered Aldrik as they walked down the stairs to join the group. The Emperor was going to be in her home.
“You lot are up early,” Geral observed, a steaming cup of wheat tea between his hands.
Vhalla returned the keys with a smile. “So are you.”
“True enough.” The man paused, his expression sobering. “Dodging the Inquisitors?”
“Inquisitors?” She looked to her comrades to see if they knew of what Geral spoke, but the group looked just as confused as Vhalla.
“I thought you would’ve heard . . .”
“There’s been a lot to hear,” Vhalla encouraged delicately.
“It’s all the Supreme King’s doing,” Geral began.
“Do you support the regime change?” They should’ve found that information before staying under the man’s roof.
“Do I look like a man who would support senseless violence?”
“You don’t.” Vhalla gave a breath of relief. “So, what is the Sup
reme King doing with Inquisitors?”
“They are sweeping the continent, but their presence has been especially felt here in the East. They have a way to use crystals to see if someone has the powers of a Windwalker.”
Vhalla was instantly reminded of Victor’s ledger. He knew there would be more. Not many, but they would be out there. A Windwalker could be the only possible opposition to his powers. The information was as useful as it was terrifying for the people who were confirmed to have the ability.
Geral continued, “A group of strange travelers, like yourselves, may want to know information like that.”
“Thank you,” Vhalla said sincerely, raising her hood to leave.
“I think it’s funny,” Geral added. “I only ever heard of one Windwalker in all my years. The first one to leave the East’s nest and fly. That was the girl named Vhalla Yarl.” He rested his elbows on the table leaning forward. “Though, I suppose she wouldn’t be a girl any longer. You know, she would stay with her parents at my inn during the Festival of the Sun. And when I heard the tales of all that was happening to her—the good, the bad—I cheered for her alongside the rest of the East.”
Vhalla’s hand went up to her shoulder, gripping it just above the scar.
“She’s the pride of the East. A beacon of a new future where people may start seeing Cyven as more than just some pastures and crops between North and South.” Geral sipped his cup once more. “What happened to her was a crime. But, then again, I hear she had a good record of dodging death itself. The truth could be right under our noses.”
“Things have a strange way of working out.” Vhalla’s words were laden with shock.
“They do indeed.” The man shifted his hands and turned the mug; upon it was the blazing sun of Solaris. “Now go, before the Inquisitor begins his rounds through the town.”
Vhalla took one last look at Geral before the door closed behind them. His warm words had restored her—and terrified her. These were her people, and they stood behind her. She had betrayed them, and now she had to do whatever was necessary to save them.