The servant opened the door to their room, ushering them inside. Although given their own sleeping rooms, the four of them shared a large living space. With the plush rug covering the entire length of the room, the rocky floor was hidden from view.
Lara set the coil down on a side table, keeping it nested between her hands in case it rolled. Then she kicked her shoes toward the door. Lara loosened her mental barrier, drop by draining drop, until she knew she wouldn’t cave to the emotions bombarding her. Maintaining the barrier was incredibly exhausting, so the respite felt as if a huge weight lifted from her.
When no one moved to leave the room, choosing a spot to sit down instead, Lara knew it was time to tell each other what had happened over the last several weeks. Too lazy to bend over and pick up a gold-trimmed pillow leaning against the wall, she kicked it over to where the other three sat waiting for her.
A musical chime resounded in the room before the door opened. A servant brought in a long, rectangular tray. The woman gave them a deep, graceful bow and carried the tray over to them. Skye and she were served goblets filled with a sweet smelling liquid. For Chion and Eiren, the servant placed two bowls carved with the same design on the floor.
When Lara bent her head down to sniff it, Chion told her, It is a drink made from a rare fruit called rueni.
The servant spoke up, “If it pleases you, rueni is not rare in Areth. In fact, Councilor Cimma has her own rueni garden.”
Thank you, sare. My Lady is new to Kureto, and I do not wish to give her the wrong information.
The servant bowed to him, acknowledging his courtesy, and left the room with the empty tray. Lara took a sip of the cool drink, letting it soothe her dry throat. She tried to pinpoint what fruit the drink reminded her of the most. After a few more sips, she narrowed it down to a unique blend of strawberries, kiwi, and mulberries. Lara set the goblet down on the smooth, rock table that was the same height as a coffee table.
Lara confessed, “I think I’m confused. You called the merchant’s daughter Sare, too. Are they both named Sare?”
Eiren was laughing at her? Eiren opened her mouth in silent merriment, showing off her sharp incisors. Chion shook his head with bemused affection. She didn’t think it was a stupid question, but maybe it was. At least Skye wasn’t laughing at her; but a suppressed chuckle floated from his direction, and she looked at him with suspicion. Damn him. Skye was hiding a grin behind his goblet. Discomfited by their humor at her expense, she included them all in her evil glare, feeling her cheeks heat with a full-on blush.
My Lady, it is a title Kurites use when a man or woman’s name is not known. It is a polite way of gaining that person’s attention. Sire is used for men, sare for women. He flicked his left paw toward Skye and said with humor, Upon seeing Skye’s reaction, I assume Pyran also continues this tradition.
“The word ‘sire’ was once used by my ancestors, so I’ve heard it before,” Lara told them. “But I’ve never heard sare before today. Why are you all of the sudden using it?”
Skye held up a hand, signaling that Eiren was speaking to him. After a short pause, Skye said, “It is used for those individuals who are not immediately designated nobility. Eiren says that if you want to err on the side of caution, you can always use the title. No one will take offense.”
She rolled the new word off her tongue a few times. She liked the sound of it.
Changing the topic, Skye said, “The coil is now safe in our hands. It’s time for all of us to recount our last few weeks.” Last night, the combination of lack of sleep and fighting the Pyranni warriors left Lara falling asleep on her feet. She’d barely glanced at their new quarters, not caring where they were as long as there was a bed.
Eiren perked up, lifting her head from her bowl, looking at Skye with anticipation. He verbalized her request with a shrug, “Eiren would like for us to go first. She’s curious about what I saw on the other world.”
Eiren emphatically whipped her tail in emphatic agreement, thumping it against the cushioned floor.
I am curious as well.
Lara waved a finger toward Skye in a back and forth motion before she offered, “I’ll start if you take over in a little bit. Skye and I were at the training school trying to figure out how to control our magic.”
Between the two of them, they were able to recount everything that had happened on Earth to the pakas. Skye gave a detailed account of the vast differences between the two worlds, surprising Lara with some of his descriptions. When Skye had difficulty explaining some of the sights, she jumped in, helping him find the right words.
Both Eiren and Chion listened to their story, asking them questions when certain words didn’t translate well. When the Malirran assassin was mentioned, Chion interrogated them on why the Malirran was a flesh eater. She forgot about the Malirran’s odd statement about the goddess Semnac until Skye mentioned it. Neither Chion nor Eiren had ever heard of the goddess. The four of them tossed ideas around, but they came no closer to understanding the strange religion.
By the time the two pakas shared how their hunt for information was going, it was late in the day and the drink was long gone. They were now spread across the room. Lara lay on the floor with her head on a pillow, while Skye sat with one leg cushioning Eiren’s head. Chion was curled into a ball with a direct line of sight to everyone else.
After her stomach rumbled with hunger, Lara said, “We’re in dire need of more information. We don’t know enough. We keep getting ourselves into dangerous situations, and we don’t have a clue what’s going on. Between the coil and our marks, which—by the way—are definitely connected, we need to find some answers fast.”
Chion spoke up, I do not think anyone disagrees with you. Tomorrow morning we will search through the scrolls for writings on either the coil or our marks.
Rubbing Eiren’s delicate ears, Skye inserted, “We should train together every day.”
I agree. We should make use of our time together.
Lara’s stomach let loose a long rumble, and her hands flew to her stomach, embarrassed. She admitted with a sheepish grin, “I don’t know about anyone else, but I need food.”
¤¤¤
The next morning Eiren came dashing into their room, grabbed Lara’s shirtsleeve, and tugged her toward the door. As soon as Lara took a hesitant step in the right direction, Eiren let go and was gone. Lara shared a worried look with Chion and ran after her. Skidding to a halt inside her friends’ bedroom, she instantly understood why Eiren acted so frantic. She turned her head and yelled to Chion, “Get a healer. Skye is sick.”
The warrior stood holding the back of a chair with a white-knuckled grip, favoring his right shoulder. The man’s long, blond hair hung in a loose waterfall around his face, hiding his expression from her view. Eiren paced around him, pawing his feet with her sheathed claws, nudging his leg with her head. Lara walked over, cataloging Skye’s pallid skin tone and the raised chill bumps on his arms.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“Skye, it’s your shoulder, isn’t it?”
He grunted and released his death grip on the chair to fold back his tunic, showing her the reddened and swollen wound.
Chion, it’s the wound the assassin’s knife made—it looks infected.
Turning her attention back to Skye, she asked with exasperation, “Why didn’t you say something yesterday about the pain?”
He let go of his shirt and lifted his hand to wipe at the beads of sweat on his forehead. “I thought it was healing, but I think I’ve put too much strain on the wound.”
Eiren moved to sit down by Lara’s feet, staring insistently at Skye. He glared at her and objected to something the paka said to him. “I will not tell her that. Because of you, she now knows the wound is infected. You heard her. Chion is retrieving a healer for me.”
Lara could only imagine the self-righteous, aristocratic sniff the black paka must have given Skye. Lara watched in fascination while they had a glaring match. Eiren’s ears twitched, and Skye dropped his eyes in defeat.
He muttered, “Stubborn paka.” In a louder voice, he said, “Eiren is adamant I tell you the chills hit me in the middle of the night, waking both of us with my tossing and turning. The pain was worse yesterday, but when I touched the edges of the wound, it didn’t feel too tender.”
“We’ve been here two days. Why didn’t you clean the wound when we first got to our rooms?”
“I did,” he retorted in annoyance. He waved a large hand at the paka. “Ask her, she was there when I did.”
My Lady, a servant has gone for a healer. I am on my way to the kitchen to find some clean fabric for the wound. I will also request some food and water.
Eiren was looking at her like she was supposed to do something with the man. Lara sighed, she wasn’t a nurse or a doctor. What was she supposed to do? “Skye, why don’t you sit down? You’re not well. Chion just told me a healer is on his way.”
Her head jerked back in disbelief. The man actually growled at her. Skye’s usual composure had vanished in the wake of the infection. He must feel worse than he was letting on. Pushing down on his uninjured shoulder, she said with more firmness, “Sit down. Now.”
With Eiren and her both pushing and prodding him around the furniture, he sat down and slumped back into the chair. A fierce scowl crossed his face. “I’ll be fine. You are both worrying for no reason.”
She crouched down in front of him so he could see her honesty. “Skye, you aren’t acting like yourself. You are sick. We know you’ll be fine, but let us take care of you while you are not feeling well. It will make Eiren feel better, right?” She glanced at the paka for confirmation. Eiren eyes became hooded, letting her know the paka was trying to talk sense into Skye, too.
He gave up with a huff, muttering, “I’m a warrior. I’ve been injured far worse than this and still trained.”
Lara rolled her eyes, and she had to tuck her lips between her teeth to keep from laughing at him. She knew full well he wasn’t well enough to train. His body was fighting off an infection. For such a strong, stoic warrior, he was acting like an intractable child. She was saved from arguing with the man when the healer walked in unannounced, a large, leather bag in his right hand.
After a small misstep at seeing the blond warrior, the healer stepped forward. His gold eyes declared him as one of the Tal’Ai, but the man’s bonded mate hadn’t accompanied him. Commanding Skye to stay seated, the older, gray-haired man looked him over, checking the wound and feeling the edges. The healer asked Skye a few questions about the source of the injury.
He stood back up and went to his medical bag. While rummaging through it, he explained, “My magical ability allows me to heal anyone of their illness or wounds, but it varies slightly from other healers you might have met. I can only strengthen your body’s natural ability to heal itself. It may not sound like a strong gift, but a boost will help you heal faster, reducing the healing process by days.”
He straightened, holding a sealed flask between his fingertips. “This is why I use herbs. It will quicken your recovery.” He motioned for Lara and Eiren to come closer so he could show them the herbal mixture. “Once I push my power into the young warrior, he will sleep for at least half the day. For the first day, you’ll need to change out his compress at least four times. Boil a cup of water with a pinch of the herbs in this flask until the mixture thickens into a watery paste.”
He removed the cork and held up the exact amount between his thumb and finger. “Let it cool, then pour the mixture onto a clean cloth, press it to the wound, and wrap the dressing from shoulder to ribs,” he instructed, using Lara’s body to demonstrate. He handed Lara the flask and turned back to his patient, putting his hands on his hips in contemplation. “Let’s move you to the bed where you will be more comfortable.”
Lara watched Skye stand back up and head over to the bed on the other side of the room. The healer stayed at his side, monitoring his movements in case Skye needed support. Skye reached the bed without assistance, lying down with a soft groan. Eiren leapt up and joined him, slipping to the other side to leave the healer room to work. She put her head down a few inches from Skye’s.
The healer consoled the anxious paka, “Sare, he’ll be fine in three days’ time. The fever will work itself through by this evening, and he will feel better. The wound will take only a few days to completely heal.”
After the healer held his hands over Skye’s heart, her friend began snoring a few minutes later. The man smiled in satisfaction before rejoining Lara by the bedroom door. He reiterated, “Be sure to boil the water with the herbs. It makes them more potent.”
Chion stepped into the large sitting room a few minutes after the healer left. Is Skye feeling better?
Lara smiled. “He should be when he wakes up. The healer’s magic knocked him out. I’m guessing Eiren is going to stay with him for a while.” Holding up the flask, she added, “I need to make a compress. Is someone going to bring up some cloths?”
Yes, a servant should be here shortly.
Chion followed her over to the unused cooking stones in a small impression in the wall. While she set up the small cooking pot, filling it with water and the herbs, their breakfast and the cloths for the dressing were brought in. They ate as the water simmered, taking turns to check on the potion.
When Lara took the water off the fire, setting it aside to let it cool, Chion reminded her, My Lady, you have yet to explain the meaning behind your name. I find Solara a beautiful name, so I do not understand why you cringe every time you hear it.
“I didn’t tell you, did I?”
Lara took her time answering, rearranging her food on her plate. Dropping her fork onto the plate, she glanced up at him before sharing, “You know, it is the only name my father calls me. He refuses to shorten my name to Lara, saying that it loses its meaning if he did.” The mention of her father brought tears to her eyes, but she blinked to keep them from spilling over.
Lara chuckled without mirth. “When I was younger, it caused so many arguments. Both of us are stubborn to a fault.”
The warmth Chion sent through their link soothed the large lump caught in her throat. It gave her the strength to tell him the story her father had always told her. “My father is an astronomer. He studies the movement of planets and stars. The day I was born, he was already at work, waiting for the full solar eclipse.” She looked over from where she stared sightlessly at a tapestry and used her hands to explain. “Let’s say that I am the planet, and the sun is over here,” she wiggled her fingers on her left hand. “The moon is my right hand. When the moon rotates just so,” she swung her right hand in between her body and her left hand, “the moon blocks the sun from the planet, creating a solar eclipse. It looks like a ring of fire in the sky. I admit it is a cool event to see if you’ve never seen one before.”
Chion nodded in understanding. She dropped her hands back to her lap.
“As my dad tells everyone who will listen, he rushed to the hospital when my mom called him. I was several days early, so it was something of a surprise. He reached the room where my mother was about an hour before she gave birth. I was born at the exact second a full solar eclipse occurred. Because of it, he cajoled my mother into changing the name they originally picked out to Solara. Meghan became my middle name. He believed that because my birth coincided with a solar eclipse meant that I needed a strong, unique name.”
She swallowed hard. “When I was really young, I’d beg him to tell me the story of how I was born. He swears that I opened my eyes and smiled at him the moment the solar eclipse was over, though my mother denies it. He told the story so many times, I had it memorized word for word. But as I got older, I realized how pretentious it sounded, how it made me stand out from all of the ordinary names my friends had. I quit asking my father to tell me the story at bedtime. When I was about eleven years old, I shortened my name to Lara. My mother finally came around about two months later. She only uses my nickname now.” Lara flapped her hands to explain away her name. “Like I said, my father adamantly refused. Apart from him, I’ve been Lara ever since.”
Telling the story made her realize how much it pained her to continue with the forced separation from her family. She missed hearing their voices.
I must admit I agree with your father. Surely the significance of the event indicates that you are meant for something great. Although Lara is as exotic a name as Solara here in Kureto, your full name, now that I know its meaning, is beautiful—majestic. Perhaps you should consider using it once more.
Lara crawled over to Chion, sliding down to rest her head on his stomach. She was silent for a bit. “I don’t know whether my birth is anything more than a coincidence, but maybe you’re right. Maybe it is time for me to use the name my father gave me.”