Vulture

by Rhiannon Paille

  “I’m going to sleep,” she announced as she padded towards the bedroom.

  Krishani didn’t move as she folded herself under the covers and fell into a deep sleep the moment her head hit the pillow.

  • • •

  Kaliel woke to the smell of burning wood and hazelnuts. She stretched and yawned as she peered into the living room. Krishani had lit a fire and sat with a skillet of hazelnuts on the stump. She crossed the floor, her bare feet sinking into the shaggy rug. She hadn’t noticed before how cozy Mallorn’s cabin was, how in the three moons she’d spent with him she had grown accustomed to his way of living. This was a life she could accept.

  “Ahdunie,” Krishani said as she fell into the other big chair across from him and took a warm hazelnut in her hands.

  “Ahdunie,” she repeated wistfully. She cracked the nut with her teeth and pried it open with her fingertips. The familiar taste was soothing, and after one she had another and another. She hadn’t noticed it before, but the sun was setting. “Did I sleep all day?” She felt groggy.

  Krishani nodded. “I slept some, too, but you were like a rock, and I didn’t want to wake you.” He took another hazelnut.

  She twisted her hands in her lap and sat back in the chair, drawing her knees up. “It doesn’t feel the same. I get tired more easily. My arms and legs hurt more. I don’t know why.” She ran her hands over the black fabric of her ankle-length dress. She met Krishani’s concerned gaze.

  “You’ve been through a lot.” He idly picked another hazelnut, whittling away at it with his long, calloused fingers. His knuckles were more defined, rising peaks against his pale skin. Her eyes trailed over the left one, and then the right. She noticed it was grayish, like something was wrong with the skin. He caught her staring and jerked his hand away, covering it with his sleeve.

  “It’s a battle scar,” he said before she had a chance to ask. “I started a fire while you were sleeping. There wasn’t a lot to do.”

  “So you went out to get hazelnuts?” She tried to enjoy the few quiet moments they had alone. It was like they turned back time and were at a point between their first night together and the destruction that had almost wiped away everything they loved.

  Krishani nodded.

  “You didn’t read?” She raised an eyebrow. She used to read all the time when she was with Mallorn. He had stories about valiant knights and beautiful princesses. He had manuscripts meant to be burned because they turned a hero into a war monger and an enemy into a friend. People in the First Era lost their lives due to the treachery of the Valtanyana, but they orchestrated catastrophes and sometimes the destruction was due to manipulation. Mallorn fought a war spurred by the Valtanyana. Two sides were in peace until Rahedra turned the people against each other. She shuddered at the thought and Krishani laughed.

  “You really think I would read?”

  She pressed her lips together to suppress a smile. Istar ordered him to the library many times but he never listened. He would rather be at the waterfall with her. “No I guess not. But Mallorn doesn’t have stuffy books on Avristar traditions, you know. He has information on the Valtanyana.” Krishani straightened at those words and stood, pacing like he was vexed about something. He ran his hands through his hair and took slow, steady breaths. Kaliel frowned. “There were eleven of them.”

  “I know,” he seethed. He whipped around to face her, his eyes blazing. She knew it wasn’t directed at her, but there was something in them she didn’t like. “Mallorn told me about them.”

  Kaliel relaxed and let her knees drop. She picked up another hazelnut. “So you already know. It shouldn’t matter. The Daed only released Crestaos, and you killed him.” She glanced at him. He stood in the tiny foyer looking the way she did when she wanted to take off to the lake and glide through the serene waters with the merfolk.

  He let his shoulders drop. “I could use some air.” He clumsily opened the door, stumbling out onto the mound. Kaliel raced to her feet and followed him, knowing something still bothered him about all of this. He stopped when he heard her behind him and sat in the grass, staring at the creek and the line of ash left by Crestaos. She sat beside him and put a hand on his knee. It was unsettling to be outside, so close to where Crestaos destroyed the land.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked gently, her eyes tracing the contours of his tense jawline. His hands were fisted, and he concealed the right one as much as he could.

  “You were gone,” he said, his voice almost breaking.

  “I know.” She rested her head on his shoulder and held his left arm with both of hers, sitting there as he watched the water trickling towards the lake. They stayed that way for a long time until the pitch black of night covered them and the chirrups and scuttles of the animal folk interrupted them. Kaliel pulled on Krishani’s arm and forced him to his feet.

  “Come on, there’s something I want to show you.” She crossed the creek, looking behind her to make sure he was following. He trudged along behind her, his shoulders sagging. She passed the barn, avoiding the skunk-like trail of the foe. She wound around the trees and stepped lightly, feeling the voice and energy of the trees as she ran her hands along them. She tried to avoid the tree she passed out beside when she witnessed the deaths of the Ruby and Quartz Flames. They were fine, safely tucked away with the rest of the Flames in the Lands of Men. She still felt weird about them being so close to each other. There was always an amount of danger despite the peace they achieved.

  She stopped when she reached a small cluster of tall red cedars. It took a few seconds for Krishani to join her as she pressed her hands against the tree, the familiar energy swelling into her. She giggled at the joy it brought her and quirked her lips up. “Do you remember when Pux told you I could talk to trees?”

  Krishani nodded, leaning against a tree and folding his arms across his chest. “It was right before the blossoming.”

  Kaliel nodded and turned to the tree, relaxing her senses and focusing on sharing her energy with the land the way she had since she was a Child of Avristar. None of the others could ever produce the same effects her energy did due to the magic of the Flame inside of her. She whispered under her breath, feeling the Flame’s fire sparking. She wasn’t sure if it would work the way it used to, but she needed it to. She missed the life she used to have and anything reminiscent of it was extraordinary. She stopped and crouched. Feeling almost expended of energy, she took a deep breath. Her hands felt for the base of the tree, brushing along the petals of a flower. She smiled, plucking it from the land and holding it out for Krishani to see.

  Krishani didn’t look half as dumbfounded as Mallorn had when she’d showed him that trick. He didn’t say anything as he gently took the flower from her hands and folded it into her hair. He put his hands on her shoulders and looked into her violet-tinged eyes.

  “And that’s why I love you,” he said.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t have a chance to show you,” she began, but he put a finger over her lips.

  “Everything about you is enchanting,” he whispered, though his tone sounded melancholic. She was about to say something in response when he lightly brushed his lips against hers and she forgot everything. This kiss wasn’t like others, rough and desperate; this was slow, savoring the moment, and careful, like he didn’t want to crush her. He broke off and she took a step away, running her fingers along the tree bark.

  “They don’t mean anything anymore,” she said.

  “What?”

  “The Great Oak. I didn’t bloom the weed of temptation.”

  Krishani looked uncomfortable talking about the Oak. He crossed his arms. “I didn’t surrender.”

  “You didn’t have to. The Great Oak was wrong.” She slunk into the grass and Krishani followed until they were against the trunk of a tree, facing each other.

  He shook his head. “It was right about you.”

  Kaliel ripped up a blade of grass, twining it around her fingers. “I know.” She didn’t need to
elaborate. She became the flower of sacrifice and sustained the great garden in strife. Losing herself was the price she had to pay. Looking at Krishani she could tell it was the one thing that still pained him to think about. Another awkward silence passed between them as they listened to the snickering of squirrels and the rustle of leaves, the night wearing on.

  “Do you know what the prophecy means?” Krishani asked.

  Kaliel’s stomach churned. That was one thing she hadn’t thought about. In every story she read prophecies were a bad thing, but what she drew could only be seen as good. She dropped to her knees and sat cross-legged. “It means we’ll be together.”

  “And nothing will burn?”

  She almost forgot about the dream of him burning. She shifted uncomfortably and stood. “I don’t know.” She stuttered, unsure if her words held any weight. “I hope not.” She didn’t want him to see her expression as she began walking back to the cabin. Whatever the prophecy had to do with them, she was determined to fight it.

  * * *

  14 - Exile

  It was dreamlike seeing her this way–the way she moved, flitting around the cabin, worrying away at the hazelnuts with her hands. She calmed after her breakdown earlier, something he didn’t blame her for in the least. In her relaxed state she was laughing again, smiling shyly, thoughtfully flipping through pages of manuscripts piled in the corner. She helped him when he netted fish from the creek for dinner or breakfast. He wasn’t really sure which since they’d spent the day asleep and the night awake. The salmon tasted the same as always once they’d skinned it and smoked it over the fire pit behind Mallorn’s cabin. Conversation had been idle. She spent time chirping back at the birds and lounging in the grass staring at patches of sky amidst the trees. These were things Krishani dreamed about having with her–a carefree life bereft of the reality of death, hardships of the lands, and threats of foes. He begged the night to dawdle so they could leisurely hang onto the last wisps of their solitude.

  But the sun betrayed him, nefariously shooting rays into the sky and covering them with the nascence of dawn. Kaliel dozed off on his leg and he gently nudged her awake. She sat and swiveled, hugging her knees to her chest and watching the sun with reservations. Krishani noticed the crease of worry streaked across her forehead. So she was thinking the same thing.

  He never wanted to leave.

  The embers from the fire died down, the skillet next to it dirty with their late night meal. He took the skillet to the creek to wash it off but she curled her hand around his ankle. He stopped and looked at her troubled expression.

  “We have to leave,” he said, pulling his leg out of her grasp and descending the hill. He dipped the skillet in the crystal clear waters, watching the fish swim amongst the rocks. The contents of the skillet melded with the water and soon it was crystal clear again, trickling towards the lake and the rest of Nandaro. A set of arms wrapped around his torso, pulling him against her. He tensed at the motion. She wasn’t quite tall enough to put her chin on his shoulder and he felt it digging into his shoulder blade, her head tilted to the sky.

  “I had a dream about the waterfall,” she began.

  Krishani hung his head and sighed. He unhooked her arms and put the skillet beside him, turning to face her. “We can’t stay.”

  She took a step back, that same worry streaked across her face. She crossed her arms. “Where will we go? Back to Elwen? You don’t even like it there.” She shot him a reproachful look.

  He narrowed his eyes. “But Pux is there.”

  Kaliel dug her toe into the ground which was so like her it made Krishani feel tingles in his heart. “He thrives with the villagers,” she muttered, still acting like a precocious child.

  Krishani didn’t want to listen to it. He knew what being here would mean to her. He knew she wouldn’t be able to let it go. It was just as hard for him to think about leaving again. He picked up the skillet and climbed the hill to the cabin. She followed him through the back entrance and they passed her bedroom before entering the living room on the right. He sat down in Mallorn’s chair and ran both of his hands through his hair, stopping halfway and gripping it with his fingers. He heard her sink into the chair beside him and let out an exasperated sigh.

  He didn’t know how to explain it. Without him the curse would come back; the Horsemen were out there. He couldn’t tell her Morgana was going to awaken the Valtanyana. After everything that happened, he couldn’t burden her with the fact that, while the first battle was finished, the war was far from over. Something else was coming, and it was bigger than both of them. The dark place he found in himself wasn’t nearly dark enough to fight against it. He hoped that because he helped Tor and because the Great Hall returned Kaliel to him he would have more help than the Avristar army. Against Crestaos they proved valiant, but against the other ten members of the Valtanyana they would be completely useless. Morgana had ways of getting into people’s dreams. She could cause the entire battalion of archers to dream about their skin falling off.

  He squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them and glared at her unintentionally. “We’re not even allowed to be here.”

  She looked away, her bottom lip trembling. “Nobody is looking for us, or you. We could stay here,” she rebutted quietly. She sighed. “Or we could go to the Elmare Castle and show them I’m alive. I miss Atara and Desaunius so much.”

  Krishani let his hair go and ran his hands along his breeches. “You know that isn’t a good idea. You don’t know what Istar was like … after.” Flashes of the royal cloak embroidered with the symbol of Avristar, Istar a top Paladin riding alongside him, coming to stop him from reaching the volcano before it exploded crossed his mind.

  “I don’t really miss him. He was always so hard on you.”

  Krishani forced himself to smirk. “You don’t know the half of it.” He sat back, resting his head on the wood. “He was upset because of the snowstorm I caused.” He closed his eyes and heard her shift in her chair uncomfortably. When he opened them again she was staring at him in shock.

  “Snow?”

  Krishani realized his mistake too late and cleared his throat. “I left the battle to find you. I was almost there when the mountain exploded. Istar stopped me. All I could think about when I heard the explosion was snow, snowstorms—” he cut himself off and gauged her reaction. She had a pensive look on her face. It wasn’t so much shock but deep concern. He reached over and grabbed her hand, gently twining his fingers through hers.

  “I told you I was late, and that was why.” His eyes implored her to understand, to stop asking questions and be satisfied. He masterfully left out the part about his coma, his unwillingness to live without her, and the curse that almost turned him into a Vulture.

  She met his gaze with a cold stare. “I hate him. I hate him for all the things he did to you and for his lack of compassion.”

  Krishani shot her a wan smile. “He was never the Lord we thought he was. He was always going to exile me. That’s why I don’t want to go to the waterfall. I think if I encounter him there’s no telling what would happen.” He rubbed his thumb over the top of her hand and looked at the stump between them. The skillet with the hazelnuts sat there, only a few nuts left.

  He was ashamed of the way things had blown up with Istar. The land reacted so violently to his mood swings that the rain and the snow were unintentional, but it mirrored the pain he felt. He couldn’t help that his emotions controlled the weather.

  Kaliel looked uneasy. Her expression turned from mournful to devious. “You know, there were a lot of things that were forbidden on Avristar,” she began. Krishani didn’t follow her train of thought. He was bewildered as she pulled her hand out of his grasp. She stood and climbed onto his lap, straddling him. She kept her gaze steady on his mismatched eyes and he felt the fire in her rising. “I know we have to leave, but there’s no harm in sneaking around Orlondir one last time, is there?” She dropped her lips to his ear. “They don’t even know we’re here,�
� she whispered, pressing her lips against his neck. He caught her by the upper forearms and went to pull her away when she pulled back on her own.

  “Have I ever mentioned how peculiar you are?” It was so easy getting lost in her. The way she thought the lands were hers to explore and that she was impervious to rules and even death was both exciting and slightly unsettling. He wanted to believe this little excursion would satisfy her need to be home, but something told him that going to Orlondir would only make it hurt more than it already did. She might have been able to lighten the mood, and their one day and one night together in the forest might have had its happy moments, but there was so much melancholy surrounding them that it was hard to ignore.

  She giggled, a sound he was so used to it made his breath catch in his throat. “Does that mean we can go?” She seemed excited.

  Krishani nodded. “But we need to wait for nightfall.”

  • • •

  There was something pristine about the way they were aware of each other. Kaliel noticed it in the middle of the day when she was reading manuscripts and Krishani sat there watching her like he wanted to sketch her. She put the book down and he instinctively brought his hands to his lap. Their eyes met, and she took a sip of the tea he made. She was appreciative that he was so good with his hands. It didn’t matter if she had been through an ordeal, she still couldn’t remember the names of herbs any better than she could in her previous incarnation. Krishani found it funny that she had to ask him a lot of questions while he sat there cutting up herbs, boiling water, and steeping tea. Certain things came naturally to him the same way blooming flowers and talking to trees came naturally to her. She didn’t understand how her gifts were useful.