It was well and truly morning when the ferryman eased his barge into the town marina. It was quieter than the main trade wharf as it was reserved for people being ferried and privately owned leisure boats. Rowan was relieved to see that it hadn’t been seriously damaged by the storm.
They said farewell to the ferryman and made their way into the town proper, though not before stopping by the port authorities to identify themselves. It might not have been necessary, but it helped avoid any potential awkwardness.
The port authority was situated just outside the gatehouse leading into the Emyr Quarter. The large, wood-framed building made Rowan smile. Where the majority of port authorities might have settled on the standard aqua-white walls for the exterior, the Næmyran port authority featured a mural of dancing fish across its front-facing wall. It was largely inconsequential detail, but it spoke to the building’s character.
The inside was similarly charming, the floors and furniture made of the same wood that went into making ships and varnished to a smoky finish. A clerk waved them over.
The clerk glanced over the group and then through a ring-bound stack of papers. “Name, purpose for visiting Næmyris, and any items to declare?”
Lochlan and Liadra went first. It was Rowan’s first time hearing their full names. Marshall Lochlan Rein and Junior Lieutenant Liadra Talen Rein. Nothing to declare.
Seres was next. Surprise fell on the clerk's face, a wordless question answered by the princess’ heterochromic eyes. Whispers echoed through the large, open lobby.
“It's really her!”
“I'd heard the rumours, but…”
“I don't believe it.”
“Wasn't she supposed to be dead?”
The clerk didn't say anything. Their expression said everything. Then Rowan stepped forward, and their jaw dropped.
“Rowan'efrii Alyris Naliir returning home. Nothing to declare.”
“Dancing flame.”
Memory. Recognition. Rowan had never met the clerk. At least not in any meaningful way. It mattered not. She was the image of her mother, differing only slightly in height and overall build, and there were few Næmyrans who hadn't been touched by Hæra's music.
Rowan smiled sadly at the clerk.
“The river sings.”
It was a simple response to the clerk's gasp of ebullient incredulity, but not without meaning. Similarly to how dancing flames signified joy and merriment, a river's song was said to carry the hopes and dreams of lost travellers and the dearly departed. She didn't stick around to see the impact it had on the clerk or the rest of the staff.
*****
Nostalgia hit Rowan like a wagon when they entered the Emyr Quarter. It was almost exactly how she remembered it. The sights. The smells. All of it. From the delicate aroma of dainty teahouses to the painted walls lining the streets. Even the texture of the cobbled walkways beneath her feet inspired wistful memories. She could almost see phantoms from her past walking the streets. She even saw a miniature version of herself running around with Kyr and Kiriin.
Alas, it wasn’t a perfect recreation of her memories. Things had changed. The buildings no longer felt like they had been built for giants. Not because Rowan was notably taller than she had been five years ago, she had gained maybe half an inch since then, but rather because she had grown as a person.
It wasn't just a shift in perspective that made the buildings feel smaller, however. The streets were quieter; the air less vibrant; the colours muted. It was as if Næmyris had Awoken as a Stoic. Rowan couldn’t explain why, not at first. It became clear as they meandered through the Emyr Quarter. There wasn't any music. The spirit of Næmyris was gone. Only echoes remained.
When the river of memories finally guided Rowan to her father's store, Lochlan and Liadra took a step back with the horses, and Seres grabbed Rowan’s hand.
“Deep breaths,” Rowan whispered to herself. After giving herself a moment to heed her own advice, she reached out to open the door with her free hand.
A bell chimed and a weary voice called out to greet them. “I'll be with you in a second.” Rowan didn't recognise the speaker. Not from their voice. Even so, she Resonated with them.
When the speaker shuffled into view, Rowan's heart fell. A stranger stood before her, frail and weathered like their voice had been. She recognised his eyes.
“Da?” Rowan wasn’t sure if he heard her. It had been little more than a whisper. Even so, he shuffled closer.
He was shorter than Rowan now, and he had to look up to see her face.
“Hæra, is that you?”
The question hit like the thrust of a dagger to the heart, and the way Gyren's face contorted after asking it was the twisting of the blade.
“No. You can't be Hæra. Who are you? Explain yourself!”
Rowan let go of Seres’ hand and took Gyren's into her own. "Da, it's me! It’s Rowan!" Tears were streaming down her face.
Gyren's outrage exploded. He pulled away from Rowan and shouted at her with every speck of pitiful strength his aged lungs could muster. "You lie! My daughter is gone, never to return. Just like my wife."
"Da, look at me!" Rowan pleaded
Gyren tried to turn away, refusing to look at her. "Leave me, witch! I will not be fooled by phantoms from my past. You cannot break that which is already broken."
This time Rowan grabbed her father by the shoulders. She stared into his eyes, her emotions washing over him.
"Da, please! It really is me. I'm home."
"Rowan? Is it really you?" His eyes flickered ever so slightly. It wasn’t much, but it gave Rowan hope that she had almost reached him. She filled the room with the healing light of her hope and gave it one last push.
"It really is, Da." She wrapped her arms around him, being careful not to damage his withering bones.
Ever so slowly, an ember of hope returned to Gyren's eyes. He reached up to hug Rowan back. “I thought you were dead. When I heard about Tehri, I gave up all hope you would ever return.”
Rowan's heart fell again at the mention of Tehri. She pulled away so that she could look into her father's eyes. “You know something about Tehri?”
“She's safe. You’re all safe now.”
“What do you mean, Da?”
“She's with a family in Aran Village. They've been caring for her.”
Rowan knew Aran Village. She had been there, but she had read about the village between the converging Tarik and Kanra Rivers during one of her geography lessons with Master Idyr. If Feldran had been touched by the storm's might, a village like Aran would have been completely devastated. Even the rain alone could have caused major damage.
"It's time to close up shop, Da. We're going home.”
Rowan needed answers, and she wasn't going to get them here. She nodded to Seres and started leading her father out of the store. Seres was right behind her.
The moment they stepped outside, Rowan asked her father for his keys so that she could lock up. Then, as he rummaged around, she turned to Lochlan and Liadra as they approached from where they had been standing watch. “I need you to find a place to stable the horses. Maybe try The Crimson Drakiir. Then I need you to look into Aran Village. Ask if anyone knows how it fared against the storm or if they've heard of a girl named Tehri. Prioritise merchants. When you're done, get someone to direct you to the Naliir household. I'll open the door."
They both saluted without question, and just like that, they were moving. Rowan then took her father's keys and made sure the sign had been flipped to show the store was closed before finally locking up.
*****
While it was only a relatively short distance to Rowan's family home, Gyren was slower than a glacier. When they finally arrived, Rowan barely recognised it. The paint had faded, and any art that remained on the walls had been seized by snaking vines that rose out of the feral undergrowth of the garden like a hydra.
"It's so sad," Seres whispered as Rowan unlocked the door.
The interior was in a similar state of neglect. A thick layer of dust covered almost every single surface. The only sign that the house wasn't completely abandoned were the areas where the dust was thinner on account of Gyren's shuffling gait.
Rowan guided them into the living room so that they could sit down. Then she started formally introducing Seres to her father and vice versa. “Da, this is Seres, the second princess. She was also captured by the raiders, and we became friends. We survived because we had each other, and we eventually escaped together. Seres, this is my father, Gyren.”
"It's okay, Rowan," Seres smiled, "You don't need to push yourself."
"I'll be fine. I promise. Just give me a moment to make some tea."
"I'll join you." Her expression said she wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
The kitchen was markedly cleaner than what she had seen of the house so far, and the pantry was moderately stocked. Rowan found a fairly simple root tea and a few cups while Seres set a kettle to boil.
After brewing enough tea for everyone, Rowan took a few sips to help calm her growing anxiety. Then she returned to the living room with Seres.
She placed her father's cup down first and then her own. Three deep breaths and a sharp slap to her cheeks. She was readying herself for what came next.
“Right. No more delays.” Rowan took one more deep breath and looked straight into her father's eyes. “I have a few questions for you, Da, and I need you to answer to the best of your abilities.”
Gyren didn't give any verbal or outwardly physical response, but Rowan could tell from his eyes that he understood.
“Okay, so first things first, when did you find out about Tehri?”
The strain of reflection flashed across his brow. "A few years ago, I think? Time has lost all meaning. I remember the family sending a letter."
"Do you still have it? The letter, I mean. And why didn't you tell Tyris?"
"He wasn't ready. He couldn't be the parent she would have needed him to be. Knowing would have been cruel to both of them.”
“You cannae be the one to decide that, Da! How would you know if Tyris was ready or not? Even if he wasn't back then, he certainly is now. Also, how is them knowing crueler than the alternative?”
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Gyren's expression was cast into turmoil.
“She's happy where she is now.”
“Have you been keeping in touch with her?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know she's happy? Or that she wouldn't be happier here or with Tyris?”
Rowan needed to contain her anger. Tyris has been looking for Tehri all this time and their father knew exactly where she was. A hand came to rest on her own, and she was able to calm down a little bit. Seres was there beside her.
“I don't know, Rowan. Tehri needed all the love and support I had but could not give. I've lost my heart. Hæra is gone, and I am nothing without her.”
Rowan almost wanted to scream, to tell him that a part of Hæra remained in Elan Fiir; that she was right there. She couldn't do it. How could she? How could she tell her father that the love of his life was Soulforged? That even in death, he might never see her again? How could she explain that because of Rina, there was still a chance? She couldn't.
Silence filled the room like the inevitable darkness of night. When Rowan finally spoke again, it was to repeat the question she had before her emotional tangent.
"Do you still have the letter?”
He answered through unspent tears. "Yes, I think I do."
When he started shuffling onto his feet, Seres jumped forward to help him. Rowan's heart ached to see him struggling so. Nothing could have prepared her for how much his body had been ravaged by the ruin of ages. It had only been five years. He looked like he had aged five decades. A long-forgotten painting of a dessicated flower would have been more lively. Yet here he was, clinging to life with all his failing might, almost as if he had forgotten how to die.
Rowan was unsure how much time had passed when Seres returned with her father. He held what appeared to be the tattered memory of a letter in his hands. When he handed it over to Rowan, she could see how the ink had bled from countless tears, how the paper frayed at the folds from all the times it had been opened, and all the holes born of repeated handling. She had to read it several times to make sense of the letter through all the damage.
Dear Master Naliir,
Last year, my wife and I found your daughter, Tehri’aana, washed up in our village and severely injured. We took it upon ourselves to have her treated by a surgeon in Talaran. She barely survived the ordeal, but she is now recovering quite well. She has, unfortunately, lost her voice and is yet to find it again. However, doctors assure us that it is only a matter of time. She wants to return home to you and your wife. We would bring her to you, but we are unable to afford it due to the medical expenses. As such, we are hoping that you will be able to come here to Aran Village between the rivers Tarik and Kanra.
Regards,
Byrden and Hana Kaafast.
Her father was dozing in his chair by the time she was finished.
“What happened to him?” Rowan whispered sadly.
“He told you,” Seres answered in kind.
“He did?” Rowan couldn’t remember. Her emotions were too overwhelming.
“It was when he said that he'd lost his heart. He might not have meant it literally, but the meaning between the lines is clear, at least to me; Soul Resonance.”
Seres’ conclusion cut deep, just as the obsidian blade they had used for the Rite of Familial Resonance had. She knew her parents had completed the same rite as Rowan and Seres when they married all those years ago. She also knew that they had completed the Rite of Shared Harmony when Tyris was born.
She thought that was it. The Rite of Soul Resonance was practically a myth with how rare it was. Out of the three Rites of Union, it was by far the most complete and, by extension, the most dangerous. Where the first made you akin to family and the second made you stronger together, Soul Resonance made you one. If her parents had really performed the Rite, then her mother's death would have been akin to tearing her father's very existence in twain.
Rowan wept for her father. Everything her mother had been, everything she must have shared with Gyren was gone, including her years. No wonder he had aged as he had.
*****
Rowan and Seres were doing their best to get the entryway and the living room to be somewhat clean for a few hours when they heard a knock on the front door. Considering their lack of proper cleaning supplies, they actually did a pretty decent job of it.
Rowan quickly opened the door for Lochlan and Liadra. They appeared to be in the middle of a back-and-forth when they saw her.
“See, I told you this was the right house,” Lochlan laughed smugly as he glanced at Liadra following the door opening. Then he turned to Rowan. “Nice makeup, by the way.”
“Thank you?” Considering the fact he was probably talking about the mountain of dust caking her face, he was probably joking, but it was impossible to tell with Lochlan.
“Ignore him, Rowan,” Liadra sighed. “May we come inside?”
“Sure.” Rowan led them to the living room. Thanks to Seres’ hard work, they were able to sit down without a complimentary dust shower. It was also just the four of them. Rowan had carried her father to his bed following her recovery from the revelation of the Soul Resonance.
Lochlan's expression turned serious the moment they were seated. "We don't have any concrete information on the status of Aran Village following the storm, but we were able to speak to a few merchants that had been there just before. A pair of incredibly beautiful women and one particularly fine gentleman, I might add.”
His expression had changed again, and Liadra cuffed him immediately. Rowan had to agree that it was a superfluous detail, even if she was a fan of beautiful women and handsome men. Or beautiful men and handsome women, for that matter.
Liadra continued on from where Lochlan left off. “What he was trying to say is that Aran Village had been fine when they stopped there on their way back to Tærin City from Talaran, but they left before the storm hit. They were on the river when it happened, though, so they could make an educated guess. Talaris rose by at least two feet in just a few hours and it went from being fairly gentle to well and truly treacherous. They almost lost their boat.”
A knot of anxiety started forming in Rowan's throat. Talaris was the name of the combined rivers of Tarik and Kanra, and even if the merchants had been exaggerating, it was not looking good for Aran Village.
"Any word on Tehri?"
Lochlan was the one to answer her question. “We can't say for sure as we only had a name to go by, but we started dropping your name as well. One of the merchants mentioned that she did meet a girl who paid her to deliver a letter addressed to you?”
Rowan's heart soared, anxiety be damned. She could almost kiss Lochlan, but she refused to give him the satisfaction. "Do you have the letter?" she asked.
"It was lost during the storm," Liadra answered, breaking the bad news. No hypothetical kisses for her.
"There's no helping it, I guess. It was definitely Tehri, though. I'm sure of it. She must have heard rumours of my return. I'm going to need your help, Seres.”
“Huh?” She looked confused and only slightly alarmed.
“I need you to help me get a better vantage point so that I can scout out the way to Aran Village.”
“You need me to do what? How? It's way too far to Aran Village, and you have a forest in the way.”
“You were able to use a Gravity Crystal to jump really high, weren't you?”
“Yes?”
“Could you help me do the same? We could try it with the Magnesium Crystal as well. I just need enough height.”
Understanding blossomed in Seres' eyes, and her expression turned to one of horror. “You're insane!”
“Probably, but I have to try. Can you do it?”
“Theoretically? I've never tried using my powers at the scale I think you're suggesting.”
“You'll be fine, and Lochlan and Liadra will be there if you end up collapsing. I'll write you a song if it works.”
Rowan gave Seres her best pleading cat eyes to help seal the deal.
“Fine, but you better bring your sister home! Tehri needs to hear you sing as well.”
“I will.”
*****
They were walking to the fields outside of Næmyris before Seres could even blink. Rowan was practically running. The others were still a good ways behind when she arrived at their destination. They had taken a detour to grab the things they would need for Rowan's insane plan from their packs.
Rowan could feel the cold touch of winter on her skin as she waited for them. She wasn't wearing her tunic. She had taken it off before even stepping outside. With the amount of movement she was preparing herself for, the thick woollen top would cause her to overheat. Had she gone with the others, she might have changed into something more athletic, but she didn’t consider it until she had already left the outer limits of the town.
It did have the advantage of getting her a lot of attention. People were starting to recognise her. Word was already spreading through the districts, and she was about to make a statement that couldn't be ignored.
She was stretching when Seres arrived with Lochlan and Liadra. Between them, they were carrying a large heavy rug to catch Rowan with if something went wrong, an iron rod, and Seres’ Resonance Crystals.
“I wasn't expecting the rug,” Rowan remarked.
“It was Liadra's idea. She said it was something from her days training to be a Dusk Agent.”
“I'll take your word for it, though I doubt it will be much help if I fall from way up high.”
“True. Do you think you're ready? This is a big crowd.”
“Are you? If we do this, it's going to be a pretty blatant use of your abilities. Even if most people chalk it up to me being an Ardent, you won't be able to keep it a secret from people like the Good Lords, who are already suspicious.”
“They'll find out eventually, and if it helps you reunite with Tehri, it'll be worth it.”
“Thank you.”
“Don't mention it. You're my sister. Though I still think this is absolutely insane. Which Crystal should we try first? I have more experience using Magnetism externally, but it's probably the least likely of the two to work how we want.”
“We might as well test it first then.”
“Right.”
True to Seres’ prediction, the Magnetism Crystal was a bust. It required repelling the iron rod in much the same way that magnets repelled each other when faced with their equivalent pole. Seres could do it without much difficulty when it was the rod alone, but the moment she had to also contend with Rowan's weight, she struggled to add any real height to Rowan's jumping. To make matters worse, any deviation from straight up meant that Rowan would start flying off course.
After the seventh attempt, they gave up.
“I'm sorry, Rowan. I might be able to keep myself stable if it was me, but this isn't working.”
Rowan wasn’t disappointed. In fact, she was beaming from Seres putting her heart and soul into this crazy plan of hers.
“You needn't worry, Seres! You're doing great, and we still have to try the Gravity Crystal.”
Nothing could have prepared Rowan for the sensation that followed. On the one hand, she could move around just fine as she was just as massive, and the air around her was unchanged. At the same time, Illyria felt so far away despite the fact she was still very much on solid ground.
When Seres gave the signal, Rowan crouched down like a tightly coiled spring. She could feel her muscles burning in anticipation. Her emotions started building, her strength rising alongside them. Fear. Hope. Excitement. Rowan welcomed every last one. She was ready.
In the midst of a single explosive moment, Rowan released all tension held within her muscles. The world vanished beneath her feet. She reached for the heavens with the force of a ballista behind her.
Her ears popped. The air thinned.
When she finally stopped climbing higher, she took a moment to appreciate the view. She could see for miles. Her eyes sought out the point where rivers Tarik and Kanra converged, her fear granting her the clarity to resolve the image when it should have been little more than a blur.
Aran Village was in ruins. No doubt abandoned. Likely for a few days. Rowan traced the various routes between the ruined village and Næmyris. She saw signs of a campfire deep within Felrein Forest. It was past the safe zone that the rangers maintained.
Hope and terror filled every inch of Rowan’s being.
It was then that she realised she was falling.
"GOD FUCKING SHIT TITS!"
Rowan had to act fast. She could feel the Gravity Crystal fading. Seres had collapsed. Liadra was directing a small group of townspeople mounted on draft horses. They had the rug stretched out between them. Rowan understood the principle. It was her best chance at landing with minimal injuries despite her earlier dismissal.
She made sure to spread her body out in order to catch as much air as possible. Even so, she was scared it wouldn't be enough. Her frame was too small, and her dense Ferran muscles made her heavier than one might expect. She could still feel the touch of Seres’ Gravity Crystal. Slight as it was, Seres hadn't relinquished her control over it.
Trust.
Rowan's faith was rewarded when the Resonance of the Crystal returned in full. Without gravity to pull her down, the air started slowing her down even more, and Liadra's team of rugbearers caught her before she hit the ground. They had to roll off the draft horses in order to slow down her deceleration, and she still landed with a hefty thwack, but she was alive, and nothing appeared to be broken.
She lay there breathing heavily for a few minutes as adrenaline coursed through her veins. When she eventually rose to a sitting position, she looked at Liadra and then Lochlan, who was watching over Seres.
“Thank you. I thought I was a goner for a moment there. Is Seres okay?”
“Apart from calling you an idiot for jumping so high and being completely exhausted, she'll be fine,” Lochlan answered.
“I didnae consider the range component of her abilities or that I'd jump that high. Do you think you'll be able to take her back to The Crimson Drakiir? I know you rented out a room when you stabled the horse.”
“What about you?” Liadra asked.
“I saw what might have been leftover smoke from a campfire maybe twenty miles into Felrein Forest. It might be Tehri.”
“One of us should go with you. Lochlan can take Seres back.”
Rowan shook her head. “You can try if you feel confident in your ability to match my speed.” Rather than wait for a response, she stood up and went over to where Elan Fiir waited for her beside Seres. Upon belting it to her waist again, she took off.
Only the enhanced reflexes gained from the anticipation of seeing Tehri allowed her to run at the speeds she was reaching without flying into a tree or tripping on the underground. The exhilaration was enhanced by the potent cocktail of emotions she was experiencing.
Time and distance had become an illusion. She was already well beyond the outer limits of the safe zone when her eyes fell on a group of travellers facing down a Mandra. She cut the large bear-like creature in twain without hesitation.
It was only when the two halves of the Mandra fell behind Rowan that she finally stopped moving. She turned to face the small ragtag group of travellers. They were dishevelled, their mismatched attire and scarce belongings a sign that they were refugees from the storm.
Rowan looked over them one by one. When her eyes finally met those of a blue-eyed girl with strawberry blonde hair, she was greeted by her own jumping heart and the smallest sound from the girl's delicate lips.