Chapter Nineteen

Raimie

The five days after the return of my memories followed in an unchanging sequence. Every morning, Nylion was there, opening his eyes at the same time as me and giving me a small smile on coming fully awake, and somehow, our hands had found a way to curl around one another over the course of the night.

But also, every morning, a restless, inner fire greeted me, a blaze that twitched me down my path. As I ran, Ele barely restrained a veneer of red over my vision, and that white light followed my race down the road like a dog would with a bone, driving my travel ever faster until a journey that should have taken a week only took days.

In the late afternoon, I leapt into the forest’s canopy, hiding among the leaves from the Kiraak patrolling below.

Out of everything, though, the evenings were the hardest part of my days. Because I refused to call on it once the sun had gone down, Ele couldn’t hold that restive fire at bay, and so, it burned through my resolve instead. Long were the hours where I fought for sleep rather than indulging in a tumble out of the trees to slaughter and dismember Kiraak to my heart’s content. The fire even followed me into my dreams, lighting my mind with visions of death until I woke up with an aching jaw, all to begin the day again.

On one such evening, I was drowsily laying in the crook of my tree branch, waiting for sleep to finish coming, when I heard my splinters murmuring somewhere nearby. When I glanced around, I failed to see them, but after focusing, I could still make out their words from wherever they’d hidden themselves.

“So, he’s back in full, then,” one said. “Is that good or bad for the plan?”

“I don’t know about the ‘in full’ part,” the other retorted. “From what I can tell, the base layer of his life has gotten through the artificial wall keeping it contained, but everything behind the ones that those two raised themselves? Not so much.”

With a frustrated sigh, the first one said, “Regardless. He has access to his memories of Hand training in Daira again. Do you think his skills from that time will return as well, now that his mind doesn’t have to hide that training from him? And if so, will that affect our plan?”

“How am I supposed to know? By me, you can’t rely on me for reassurance about this stuff, Order. It takes a lot out of me to support you in any way, and you keep fucking doing it. I get it. You died and came back. That’s not something we’re supposed to deal with, and during that impossible event, we formed a weirdly gross and uncomfortable bond. But you have to give me a break every so often, ya bore. I will do my best to keep you stable but fucking hell! The effort of it is already starting to wear at my… everything, including how firm my hold here is.”

There was some silence, but then, the first voice—presumably Bright’s—softly said.

“I know. I’m doing my best too.”

With a loud and long sigh, Dim said, “Yeah, yeah. Maybe you can find another form of support elsewhere. I know Raimie gets worried about you sometimes. He could-”

“Don’t even suggest it. He cannot, I repeat, cannot know how fallible we are. He relies on us too much for that.”

“…Whatever you say, stick in the mud.”

“Chaotic fool.”

“Stuck in your… no. You know what? Instead of arguing, let’s take the time to rest, yes?”

“Fine.”

They fell silent, and I was left wondering about what I’d overheard before falling to nightmares again. As usual, that unconscious state placed its spell upon me, fuzzing over the moments right before it had come to visit. So, when I woke up, I knew a significant exchange had occurred between my splinters the night before, and I could vaguely remember what it had been about, but the details had disappeared into an unreachable part of my mind.

And so, the journey continued.

On the morning before we reached Tiro, something new came along to make an already difficult journey even more impossible. As I hovered in the unnerving space between dreams and waking, I heard an unknown and yet familiar voice roaring through my head.

COME HERE, YOU STUPID PIECE OF SHIT!

And Nylion, who’d been slowly blinking at me to that point, went absolutely white in the face before disappearing.

The next thing I knew I was far away from where I’d been resting with a knife drawn, digging at the ivy hanging over a hollow. I kept jerking my head between my work and the space behind me, where I’d been pointing the knife, but… there was nothing there. I had nothing to fear here…

And yet, I did. Someone was coming after me. I knew it. I didn’t know who it was or what, but they were coming. They were coming!

And- and- and I knew how to fight now. If someone tried to hurt me, I could hurt them right back. I could keep myself safe.

This thought was enough to stop me from digging for a place of safety, but even as I turned back toward where I thought the road might be, I couldn’t return my knife to its sheath. Gradually, I got it to a hanging spot beside my leg, but I couldn’t get further than that for the rest of the morning, always sure that someone was going to jump me if I relaxed my guard for a single moment.

Even if I also knew that probably wouldn’t happen.

It was strange and contradictory and completely out of proportion to what was happening around me, just like that weird thing that had happened in Sanc, and I hated it.

…Given the context of what I’d remembered, Ryvolim’s explanation from that day made a lot more sense.

Around midday, Nylion popped back into being. Giving the knife a strange look, he half-smiled at me before nudging my shoulder, saying not a word, and slowly, I put the weapon away.

When we eventually reached Tiro, I skipped going through the gate, leaping and clambering up the vines covering it until I was perched at the top. Without checking what was lying below me, I jumped into the abyss, landing with a shower of light into the midst of shouting people. Hands reached for me, and I retreated only to smoosh into a wall of flesh from behind. Was Tiro under attack? Gods, had I somehow been right this morning?

Then, I heard the chanting.

“Our king! Our liberator! Auden’s hope!”

And I peeled my hands away from my weapons. How had these people known…?

On the fringe of the crowd, one of Ren’s underlings nodded a cloth-swaddled head toward me, and I sighed. Someone must have spotted me as I’d approached the city. Given the reception I’d received, it must have been after my little… fit.

So. Tiro wanted to honor me for my victory at the Birthing Grounds, but if that was truly what they wanted, they were going about it the wrong way. I’d rather have them greeting my soldiers when they returned. They were the ones who deserved this celebration, but if the city insisted on honoring me, I wished it had come in the form of support for my next endeavor, not as a party.

As I pushed my way out of the crowd, I plastered a pleased grin on my face for their benefit, but I refused to stop. Soon enough, I broke through the crowd’s fringe and into an empty space, finally allowed to pick up the pace.

The celebration continued unabated behind me, which was good. I didn’t want to interrupt the crowd’s joy just because I didn’t agree with it.

Eledis was waiting for me outside of Tanwadur’s house, probably wanting a personal report of the battle, and at his presumption, I nearly stopped short while Nylion broke off to circle the old man. Somehow, I found the strength to keep moving despite the desire to draw Silverblade and run the old man through. Violence—murder—would be frowned upon in such a public place, and besides that and it being wrong, Eledis would handily defeat me. My grandfather was stronger, more powerful, and more conniving than my ignorant, former self could have comprehended.

Of all my targets, Eledis was the most dangerous. When it came to getting justice, I shouldn’t start with him but with the weakest instead.

Hissing, Nylion said, "Soon enough.”

And I nodded.

The moment we have an opportunity, I said.

In the house, I flung open the door to my family’s borrowed room, and my father looked up from the book he’d been reading.

“Raimie!” he said with a smile. “I didn’t expect you back for a few more days. How did you…?”

He continued rambling, which I half-listened to as I closed and latched the door behind me, and at my side, Nylion crossed his arms.

“So?” he asked. “How do we start?”

Like this.

“Nylion says hello,” I said, interrupting our father’s prattle.

Stiffening, he glanced toward mama’s bow, leaning at the foot of his bed, and Nylion burst into laughter.

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“Oh my gods, that was perfect,” he said. “Even I am a little scared of you right now.”

No, you’re not.

“Don’t do it,” I said in warning to my father. “I’d fill you with holes before you reached it, even if you are my father.

No need to mention that the damage would come from the pistol resting at the small of my back, not the dark energy that I usually had on hand. Even days after my overuse, the thought of touching Daevetch made me feel shaky.

Watching my father nervously shift in place, I couldn’t help the little pulse of hurt that rose above the red haze that had been surrounding me for the last few days.

“So, it’s true,” I said. “You do know about him.”

Jerking his head toward me, Nylion said, “You doubted that?”

No, I hadn’t. But I also hadn’t wanted to believe it because… because I loved my father. He’d been so good to me, especially since I’d found Shadowsteal, and learning that he, specifically him, had done something so terrible to me hurt worse than I could say.

Why had I figured that out right now?

I condensed these complicated feelings down to one word for Nylion.

No.

But I thought he understood regardless, given how much he winced. Maybe some of what was coursing through me right now had flowed to him over our bond.

Slumping, my father said, “I’ve been waiting to have this conversation for years.”

He was quiet for a moment before setting his jaw.

“Your mother told me about that aberration in your head when you were three,” he continued, “but I didn’t believe it was real at first. Thought it was my imaginative boy having fun until… until after we took you to Allanovian.”

Allanovian? Was he talking about when he and the others had stolen Nylion from me or-?

“And that is supposed to excuse what you did?” Nylion hissed, advancing toward my father. “I have only ever done what was needed to keep us alive, and you… you!”

Gods… so much hatred! Alarmed, I reached for my other half, hoping it would calm him down, and only remembered that I was being watched halfway through lifting my arm.

Eyeing me, my father said, “He’s here right now, isn’t he? What’s he doing? Threatening to kill me?”

With a shriek, Nylion lifted his hands, strangling the air instead of the man he couldn’t touch.

“I do not want that! I have never wanted to kill people, you quick-to-judge, ignorant ass!” he hissed. “You made us this way. You! We would never- never…”

Apparently unable to form more words, he simply stood there for a moment, tensed all to hell, so I did what I could to translate for the man who couldn’t hear any of that.

“Neither of us want you dead. This anger, however… it’s making it difficult to be around you. Still, I’m here because I want to know why Nylion was taken from me. Why did you let that happen?”

I wasn’t sure if my father believed my claim. He still looked ready to bolt, no matter how much he’d tried to relax. Getting up, he started toward me, and as he came closer, a wave of prickles rolled over my skin. I took several steps away, which made my father wince. Stopping beside the door, he rested his hand on his hips with his head hanging.

Sighing, he said, “It needed to be done. There are things that… happened, things I’m pretty sure you don’t know about. Nylion was becoming… harmful. So, trust me, son, when I tell you that separating you two was for your own good.”

For my own good?

With familiar heat flashing through me, I barely kept from reaching for a weapon.

“How can you say that?” I forced through my clenched teeth. “Losing Nylion was the worst thing that’s ever happened to me, and you caused it. You made me forget him. That’s like if I made you forget about mama. Worse, because he’s a part of me. And that’s not even touching on your total manipulation of my memories. Why would you take our years in Daira from me? Stealing Nylion wasn’t good enough? How can you argue that something so destructive was ‘for my own good’?”

My father had gone still, leaving the room quiet except for my gasping, and with a growl, Nylion ate the distance to the man, stepping toe-to-toe with him.

“I was alone for nine years,” he hissed. “Nine fucking years that felt like hundreds. I will have retribution for that.”

Of course, my father had heard none of this, and breaking free of his shock, he opened his mouth to retort with his face turning ruddy.

That was when the door banged open, whipping all three of us toward it. In the threshold, Ren braced one hand against the doorframe while the other kept it from swinging closed.

The sight of her nipped my fury in the bud with even Nylion going cold. Had she sprinted all this way to greet me after learning I was home? She must have missed me.

“Tell Kylorian to stop with the lies,” she gasped. “He claims that Hadrion fell in battle. The bastard insisted it was your fault.”

My smile slipped when I realized why Nylion had gone cold at the sight of her.

“Why don’t you come inside?” my father said. “Sit down. Please.”

While she hesitantly did as he’d suggested, he escaped through the open door behind her, and although normally, my father’s flight would have had me chasing after him, currently all I wanted to do was switch places with him, creating distance between myself and Ren. Obsessed with the wrongs committed against me, I’d forgotten what was waiting for me on my return to Tiro. I’d forgotten the grief and guilt that had been spawned by the death of an innocent, teenage boy.

How could I forget?

Flopping onto one of the room’s beds, Ren said, “Why did you fake it this time? As far as I know, Hadrion isn’t in any danger, not like Rhy was. Everyone he’s ever met loves him. So, did one of the Kiraak at the Birthing Grounds take a shine to him as well?”

Oh, how those teasing words hurt, making my heart break for her.

“Ren… it’s not a lie,” I made myself say.

Gods, why was saying this worse than what I’d done with my father? I didn’t want to tell her, wanted to let her live in blissful ignorance for a little while longer but…

“We cannot,” Nylion breathed.

Coming to me, he cupped my elbow, lowering his forehead to my shoulder.

“Tell her,” he said.

“What do you mean it’s not a lie?” Ren asked.

As she’d spoken, her teasing smile had started slipping and fuck. This was going to kill me.

Taking a deep breath, I said, “Kylorian is… telling the truth. In the Birthing Grounds, an Enforcer snuck up on me and Hadrion while I was distracted. She took your brother hostage, and rather than allowing me to take his place, he… well, he died. I’m so sorry.”

For the longest time, Ren said nothing. Her face spoke for her, washing of color as it was.

“Get out,” she eventually said in a faint voice.

And I blinked. I’d expected a host of reactions from her: weeping, beating her fists on me, screaming. This wasn’t one of them.

“Are you…?”

But I wasn’t sure how to finish that question.

“Out! Before I do something I regret.”

Gods, her voice had been trembling with ferocity, and look at the tears in her eyes! Faced with the force of her cold fury, I retreated, and when the door snicked closed behind me, I collapsed on it.

Would she ever forgive me, or was I destined to endure her displeasure until the end of my days? Could I bear it if she blamed me? Why did the thought of that happening with her hurt worse than if it had been coming from someone like Ryvolim? He was my friend too. Why-?

Behind me, Nylion said, “She will eventually forgive you, heart of my heart. Vengefulness is not in her nature.”

Unlike with us, apparently. Although I didn’t know if I’d classify anything that had happened with my father as ‘revenge’.

When I glanced up at Nylion, he was hugging himself, which surprised me. He hadn’t been around much when I’d spent time with Ren, so why did he look almost as distressed by her reaction? Was he merely feeling my emotions right now?

“What will I do if she looks at me with nothing but hate, Nyl?” I said. “I can’t… I can’t do that again.”

I wasn’t sure when this situation had happened before, but I couldn’t face seeing such a thing here.

Before Nylion could respond, heavy footfalls spun me around, and I nervously watched as Kylorian stormed toward me.

“Is Ren in there?” he said, jerking his head toward the door at my back.

Unable to say a word, I nodded. Kylorian had asked me to give him space, and yet, here I was, in his face less than a week after I’d last seen him. Gods, I was the worst friend.

“Did you tell her I wasn’t lying about… Hadrion?” he snapped.

Swallowing hard, I said, “Yes. Of course. I will never lie to her, not even to save myself from pain.”

Wordlessly, Kylorian examined me before nodding.

“I want to see her,” he said.

Coming forward, he reached around me for the knob at my back, but I grabbed his wrist before he could touch it, wincing all the while.

“That’s not a good idea,” I said. “She wants to be alone.”

Glaring at me, Kylorian said, “Is that what she said? Or does she not want to be around you?”

With a sharp breath, I pulled away, releasing Kylorian. After all, that thought had crossed my mind. In the end, though, I didn’t think it was likely. Ren liked to show the world a brave face. She didn’t let many people near her when she was feeling vulnerable, and while she’d let the few of us she trusted help her at times, Hadrion’s death was a personal grief that she wouldn’t want to share with anyone. Even with two times practice, mourning a sibling wouldn’t be any less painful this time. The initial outpouring of emotion that was sure to be happening behind this door was for Ren and Ren alone.

That was what I thought, at least.

So, when Kylorian tried for the door again, perhaps taking my silence as assent, I stepped in between him and his goal.

“She said she wanted to be alone,” I repeated. “I think we should respect her wishes. When she’s ready to talk, I can come find you.”

Stiffening, Kylorian flexed his hands a few times before slumping.

“You’re right. Of course you’re right. She’ll come out when she’s good and ready,” he said. “I just… don’t know what to do with myself until then.”

Could I…? I didn’t know if this was a good idea but-

“If you like, I could buy us drinks at Sigemond’s,” I said. “We could wait for her there.”

“No,” Kylorian almost immediately replied. “I… appreciate the offer, Raimie. Truly. But I can’t. Still can’t. I’m sorry.”

Biting my lip, I hugged myself to contain my pain.

“Don’t apologize. I understand. I’m sorry that I… had to be around you so soon. After,” I said. “I’ll do my best to stay away while I’m in Tiro.”

“That might be for the best,” Kylorian said.

He turned to leave, but much as I should let him go, I still had a question for him, one that was burning a hole in my pocket.

“Why did you tell Ren that his death was my fault?” I said. “I thought- I thought you didn’t blame me for it.”

Kylorian stopped short, never turning toward me.

“I didn’t tell her anything like that,” he said. “All I did was tell her what happened, as much as I was able to at least. If she interpreted that to mean this was your fault, then that’s her beliefs speaking, not mine.”

Like a dagger, those words plunged straight into my heart, and I folded around the wound. I didn’t see Kylorian’s departure, overcome with what he’d said. Did Ren blame me?

“We cannot know the answer to that question until we ask her,” Nylion said. “Do not believe a single man’s word, especially about something like this. Only Ren can know what is going on inside her head.”

Right. Of course.

Able to breathe again, I straightened, but I wasn’t sure what I should do next. I badly wanted to open the door behind me and help Ren, but like I’d told Kylorian, I’d respect her wishes. If she needed space, then I’d give her space.

Besides, a ridiculous amount of work was crowding my plate, ready to provide a welcome distraction from… everything. I could catch up with my father and finish our conversation, or I could see what Eledis had come up with regarding plans for liberating Elisk, or I could find Tanwadur and apologize for Hadrion’s death… But that would probably end with a near-to-death beating and exile from Tiro.

Hell. When next we met, I’d be lucky if Hadrion’s father decided exile was enough of a punishment for me.

So, what else should I handle right now?

“Finish the conversation with your father,” Nylion said, biting off the words. “The rest can wait. We need to resolve what that man did to us.”

All right. I could do that. Before I could get started with it, though, something stopped me short.

“Raimie?”

The door might have muffled Ren’s quiet voice, but still, the sound of it kept me firmly stuck in place.

“Yes?” I hesitantly said, hoping she’d say something more.

Please, let her say a single word more to me.

“You can come in.”

I was through the door before I’d registered opening it. By some miracle, Ren had managed to keep her tears at bay to this point, but when she met my eyes, they spilled over. Tiny hiccups and gasps shook her frame, and crossing the distance to her, I drew her into a hug. Stiffening, she weakly pushed against me, but I wasn’t letting her go. Now that she’d let me in, I was never letting go.

“My baby brother,” she sobbed.

Pounding a fist on my back, she cried those words over and over again until her legs stopped supporting her, and I had to lower us onto a bed. With Nylion pressing up against her other side, I arranged her in my lap. I let Ren soak my clothes with her tears while my spirit fractured alongside hers, and as I ran my fingers through her hair, she gradually calmed down before drifting into dreams, despite the sun’s height in the sky.

And I refused to move.