Anwen stared at the pendant the girl held for a moment before looking back to her. This close Anwen could see the only difference between them was their eyes. The girl’s eyes were a fascinating combination of hoary and azure. Anwen’s were somewhere between green and chartruese.
“This was never meant to be mine,” the girl continued. “But Freyja could not give it to you because she is not your goddess. Hel is your goddess. And she is the one who cursed you because someone saved you. She was not allowed to claim you so she cursed you so none could claim you.”
The girl took her hand and gently placed the pendant on her palm.
“Do not be afraid, Captain Wolfe, memories are not always bad.”
Anwen cocked her head to the side, “You speak as if you know memories that are bad.”
“I have many bad memories, as everyone does, but it is the good that keep the bad at bay.”
“Unless you’re cursed by Loki because he wants you for some bizarre reason,” the boy the girl had embraced muttered.
“He must have a reason,” Anwen said. “Something about you is special; that’s the only reason why he wants you. Power. That’s all Loki has ever wanted.”
The girl nodded, “Absolute power corrupts absolutely.”
Anwen closed her fingers around the pendant, “Indeed. But not all forms of power are bad.”
“To someone like Loki, power is power. The more of it he has, the more of it he wants. Essentially, power is his heroine. He cannot have me, therfore he wants me. As to the why of it, only he can answer that and I’m fairly certain he will not answer that particular question for fear it will give away whatever he is planning.” The girl sighed deeply and turns to the boy she’d embraced. “Where is my brother now?”
The boy sighed and ran a hand over his face, “For now, he is home. But he cannot remain there, Akira, not with his seizures getting worse and sparking these fevers.”
The girl nodded sadly, “He needs what we do not have.” She sighed again, “He needs to go home.”
“But he is home,” the boy answered confused.
“Not the home I built, Prince Ehren, but my father’s ancestoral home in Norway,” Mavi replied.
“Why there?” the prince asked.
“Not only do they have the medicine he needs, the connection we have to the land and to Freyja is strongest there,” the girl replied. “We have put this off for too long. We should have taken him that night.”
She spat these last sentences out with such venom that everyone, save Prince Ehren, took a step back. The prince, instead, took a step forward and pulled her to him. They were nearly the same height, though Anwen suspected the girl was wearing heels, so he was looking directly into her eyes. It was then that Anwen could see the depth of his feelings for this girl. He loved her, despite all that she had been through and how much it had changed her. He loved her.
“There was no way you could have known, mon petite pirate, that his seizures would get worse so quickly nor that they would spark his fevers,” he whispered fiercely to her.
“No, my prince, I think I knew they were getting worse long before now but I did not want to believe it,” she whispered. “I did not want to think that I could lose him so soon after losing my father but I’d be an idiot if I said the thought never crossed my mind. Especially, not after that night. That night was only the first time the thought entered my head but it was not the last nor will it be until he goes to our homeland.”
She spoke with such anguished suriety that Anwen could not help but be surprised. Without thinking, she tied the pendant around her neck and mounted the stage. She could feel the pendant getting hotter and hotter on her chest as it banged against the walls protecting the memories in her head.
The girl turned to her in confusion.
“I know where it is you need to go,” Anwen told her. “Get your brother and bring him here. We must go quickly.”
The girl looked at her shocked.
“Ulric used to speak of his home to me,” she replied. “At the time I did not understand his words but I do now. And the place we go is very far north.”
“You remember?” Jax asked confused.
“Of all the people I could forget, I couldn’t forget him. Even if I wanted to,” Anwen murmured to him. “But he is dead and you are here, my love. Never forget that I will always choose you over the memory of him.”
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
She caressed his cheek before turning back to the group, the girl still among them.
“Why have you not gone to get your brother?” Anwen demanded.
The girl shrugged in response, “I can’t risk moving him yet.”
“Bullshit!” Anwen growled. “You can zap there and back in the space of a breath so why have you not done so? Is it that you’re afraid?”
“I am not afraid!” the girl spat. “And I cannot, as you put it, zap there and back because the last time I did, it nearly got me killed!” She paused for a breath. “I have been unable to sublimate since I was 16. The last time I did I nearly killed myself in the process only to be whipped within an inch of my life seconds later. I tried to get away by sublimating again but every time I tried the cat’o’nine would break my concentration.”
The girl looked ready to cry.
“Kira, what are you talking about?” the prince asked bewildered.
“That day, the day I was whipped before the other lash marks had healed, do you remember it?” she asked turning to him.
“Why should I remember it?” the prince asked clearly more confused than before.
“Because you were there, my prince, visiting me,” the girl practically mouthed. “Have you ever wondered where those scars of yours came from?”
Her voice was louder this time.
“You mean these?” the prince asked holding out his left arm.
His left arm, from his wrist up to where his shirt covered his arm, was flawless but for the pinkish-silver scars that marred it. Kira touched the scars hesitantly.
“You were there after your father sent Tara off the isle,” she told him and Anwen had the distinct feeling this conversation was not meant for their ears. “You were drunk so often after that that your father worried you’d become a drunkard. He figured there was only one person who could or would knock some sense into you, me. So he sent you, hungover, to see me. Of course, no one knew I’d been whipped for singing to a homesick little girl. But when you found out you went ballistic. Especially when you found the Mother Superior whipping a little girl no older than Tara was. You got in the way, so she whipped you instead…”
“Until you came out of nowhere and shielded me with your body,” the prince whispered.
“I tried to get you out of there but the Mother Superior kept breaking my concentration every time I would try to sublimate away with you. Getting to you nearly killed me because I was still weak.” She sighed and rubbed her head like recalling these memories physically hurt her. “At that point, I was losing a lot of blood and running on pure adrenaline. But I blacked out before I could get you away from her. I haven’t been able to sublimate since that day. And it’s not because I’m afraid, far from it actually. It’s because my body goes into shock anytime I try. You see, somehow, I managed to get us to your guards though I was mostly unconscious. But in doing so, I went into shock. Now anytime I try sublimating, my body remembers and goes into shock. The doctors said I’ll never be able to sublimate again. But I saved you, and that makes up for losing that particular ability any day.”
Her hand moved as if to touch his cheek but stopped short and fell to her side. Her eyes widened as she looked over his shoulder. Anwen followed her gaze but saw nothing.
“Freyja?” Kira whispered in shock. “What… why are you here?”
She moved to where she was looking and knelt on the stage. The prince followed her lead. Suddenly, a beautiful woman was standing in front of them wearing a benevolent smile.
“Rise, my child,” the woman said offering her delicate-looking hand to Akira.
Akira took her proffered hand and stood. The prince stood with her.
“I come bearing gifts,” the woman said when Akira was standing.
“Gifts? Freyja, you being here alone is gift enough,” Akira told the woman.
The woman smiled benevolently again, “I am happy to hear that, but my being here is not the gift. This is.”
The woman stepped aside and from the back of the stage came four figures. Because they were cloaked in shadow, Anwen couldn’t make out any features on the people. She could, however, tell that there was a man, a woman, a boy, and a girl. As they approached, Akira’s posture changed. As they all watched the four figures approach, Akira suddenly flung herself at the man of the group. The man caught her with a chuckle and held her tight.
This must be her family Anwen thought.
“But they can’t be here,” Akira said breaking away from the man. “They’re dead.”
“Our lady gave us special permission to leave her hall and join her here today, the man said with a smile.
His voice was rich and smooth and strong, like a good cup of black coffee.
“She honors us far too much,” Akira laughed through the tears cascading down her cheeks.
“Ami, why are you crying?” the little boy asked.
Akira turned and knelt in front of him.
“Are you sad?”
“Oh Adan, no! I’m not sad. I’m very happy.”
“But you’re crying!”
“They are tears of happiness little one. I’m so very happy to see you all.”
“Akira,” the woman in the group’s voice was barely above a breathy whisper but somehow musical.
Akira turned to her. Anwen saw a number of emotions flicker in her eyes before one overtook them all, happiness.
“Mama,” the one word uttered with such heartbreak and forgiveness broke the composure of nearly everyone observing.
“Baby, I’m so very sorry,” the woman murmered into Akira’s hair, as she had thrown herself into her mother’s arms shortly after she had spoken.
Akira looked up at her mother’s words and Anwen saw a flash of guilt in them.
Why would she be guilty? Anwen wondered.
“Oh mama, I never blamed you for what happened to me in that place,” Akira answered her unspoken question. “What happened to me was my own fault and no one else’s. You only did what you thought was right. You couldn’t have known the corruption that existed within those walls and hallowed halls.”
“Where is Kelly?” the little girl asked.
“Askel is sick,” Akira replied breaking away from her mother. “Papa, I need to take him home. I know you told us to never leave the islands but if he doesn’t go, I’ll lose him too.”
“Little Ylva, the time has come for you to leave the island,” her father replied with a sigh. “Truthfully, I knew this day would come. I just thought I would be there to guide you.”
“I know Papa,” Akira whispered.
“My little Ylva, I am so very proud of you,” he said and Anwen could hear the emotion in his voice. “You have become a beautiful lady and a talented archeologist.”
“I just wish you could have lived to see this day,” Anwen could hear the tears in her voice. “But I wouldn’t have had all of you here had you been alive.”