I join Fal for breakfast in his rooms in the morning, feeling his pleasure and relief that I am feeling better, that I am back to his Blackbird, the sister he is used to seeing. Our meal is simple, just leftover cold meat squished between cheese and bread and washed down with a cup of coffee, spiked on my part.

“So,” I begin the conversation, “you wanted a full report from me?”

“Mm.” Fal says, raising his forefinger, gesturing for me to wait. His mouth is full. I smirk, amused.

“You did that on purpose!” He playfully accuses me once he has chewed and swallowed.

“Did what?” I am all innocence.

“Waited until I had my mouth full before you asked me a question!”

“Maybe I did, and maybe I didn’t.” I sip at my coffee, peering at my brother over the rim of the cup, my eyes sparkling with mirth. He grins at me.

“So, the report?” I ask, setting my cup down.

He sobers. “Yes, I did want one, but only if you’re up for it.” I feel his mind nudge mine, looking for any sign of yesterday’s distress. Of course, there is none.

I smile at him. “You’re sweet, Fal. But I wouldn’t do something I didn’t think I could handle.”

“Alright.” He says, gesturing for me to begin. “Let’s hear it then.”

I hesitate, gathering my thoughts, then begin.

“Daniel is the linchpin of it all.” I tell Fal. I have no wish to have Daniel and Fal at each other’s throats, but I must tell the truth. I have to make this report, and then…

‘And then’ will take care of itself.

I continue: “If he is taken out of the equation, it will all fall apart. He is the one thing holding together the High Clan Lords’ alliances. I’m not saying that the Lords like him, but they do tolerate him and they need him, and that’s what counts. During the time I traveled with him, he received many missives from the Clan Lords and sent missives in return. He thinks that you’re evil and that you need to be dethroned. He’s trying to rally the Lords against you and, for the most part, he’s succeeding. I don’t know how many lesser lords are with him; I didn’t get to see him in action in Vezgaxur, but I’m guessing that he’s not in very good standing with the lord of that city, given the situation in which we met. And obviously he didn’t get anywhere with Amyry and Azaes.”

“Obviously.” Fal remarks, crossing one leg over his other knee and pensively tucking the tip of his forefinger between his lips.

“I’d advise extreme caution in dealing with the paladin.” I tell Fal a bit sternly. “More caution than you’ve shown to date. He’s more powerful than you think and, Fal, his God fights for him.”

Fal snorts in amusement. “Come now, Blackbird, you can’t really believe that?”

“I do.” My tone is dead serious. “I have seen it, Falkirk. I have seen this God actively intervene for His followers, I have seen Him completely destroy a tiefling mage, a full company of soldiers, and a demon in a virtual, giant fireball. I have seen Him power mage shields indefinitely, give His followers supernatural speed and resilience during battle, and I have seen Him bring people back from death.”

Fal scoffs lightly, still amused. “Really, Ava, when have the gods ever been useful or important?”

“You don’t understand, Fal. This God is important, somehow. He protects His own. You might not even be able to get close to the paladin. Not to mention, Daniel’s friends are powerful as well. Even if you could best their combined might, let alone that of Daniel himself, I don’t see how you could best Elhim.”

Fal is silent at this, regarding me with a coolness I have never seen directed towards me by him.

“Just… be careful.” I say, nearly pleading with him. “I have no wish to lose you.”

Fal smirks at this. “Don’t worry about me, Blackbird. We’ll see just how well Daniel and his God do when they face me. I seriously doubt they would be a match for me. I’ll be fine.”

Eliana’s healing flashes into my mind, along with my own, followed by the images of Divine fire and charred corpses. But I bite my tongue and make no other comments, frustrated though I am. I know I could never change my brother’s mind on the subject. I shove the memories aside and continue my report.

“Daniel is currently en route to Tyrhyld, Antony’s home. It’s apparently been attacked by pirates.”

“Mm.” Fal remarks.

“From there I have no idea what he plans to do or where he plans to go.”

“And how did things end up in Azmal?” Fal asks. I tip my head back over the rim of my chair and stare at the ceiling. A sigh pushes itself from my lungs.

“Daniel is basically lord of that city now. Like I said, he’s powerful. I don’t know if he’ll stay on as ruler of Azmal; he’s not really one for thrones and such, but I just don’t know. When I left, he was making Azaes’s men stand trial.”

“I see.” Fal sits, staring off into space for a moment, lost in thought.

“Fal,” I venture to ask, “Do you know what happened in Ciliren? The town is a mess and the people are suspicious and hostile.” Fal looks at me, a faintly amused smile curving his lips.

“We might have had a skirmish there.” He tells me.

“Oh.” Is all I can think of to say.

“They repelled us. I’ll be returning back there, though. Soon. This time they won’t be denying me.”

“I see.” I reply. And I do. This piece of news only reinforces my decision. I watch my brother as his thoughts wander once more and his attention turns entirely away from me. I drain my coffee to the dregs and set the cup on the table with a soft clunk.

“Fal.”

“Hm?” He looks at me.

“I’m excusing myself now, if you don’t need anything else. I’ve got some other stuff to get done.”

He regards me for a moment, still searching for the distress of yesterday. I offer him a reassuring smile. After a minute he nods.

“Of course, Blackbird. If you need me at all, I’ll be around.”

He gives me a smile as I leave.

I head immediately to my own rooms. Once there I change into more practical clothing than the gown I’m currently wearing. I then slip into my jerkin and make sure I have all my weapons and that my pocket-of-holding is packed with essentials. Then I dig my marble out of my pocket and look at it for a moment, rolling it gently between my fingers. Studying how its dark-grey slate drinks up the sunlight and reflects nothing back.

I need to leave. I— I need some time to get away from everything and just think. My head isn’t on straight at the moment, and I need it to be. I desperately need it to be.

I— I just need some time alone. Away from everyone. Even Fal.

But what about—?

So many scenarios and things that could go wrong in my absence swirl inside my mind. Doubt rises in me. Am I truly doing what I need to? Is this the right thing?

Before I can talk myself out of my choice, I clench my marble in my hand, feeling the hard stone dig into my palm. I visualize in my mind’s eye a peaceful forest, a lively stream, and a cairn built by my own hands. And then, holding the image in my mind, I tap into my marble’s magic. The world around me fades to white.

And I feel Fal’s sudden, frantic alarm.

I reappear in the forest glade where I had slaughtered a young paladin so recently and yet so long ago. I still see his face, clearly, vividly. But I am left no time to dwell on anything much as Fal gathers his manna and abruptly teleports to me.

I don’t want to see his stricken face, or hear him call my name. I don’t need my resolve crumbling.

Before he can even finish reappearing though the dimensions, I am off again, stepping into the in-between and emerging someplace else. I’m in the east, I think. The place is beautiful, if barren. Brown stone atop jagged cliffs that rise high above a crashing sea. It’s loud here, and the air tastes salty, but I have no time to enjoy the place before I have to teleport again with Fal right behind me.

I lead him on a merry chase, flashing through locations with the ease that the magic of the marble affords. Often doubling back. Leading Fal on a merry chase as his manna drains and he becomes more and more weary.

I can tell when his manna is depleted enough that he can follow me safely no more. And I stop running. I teleport one more time, reappearing in a dark forest. It’s night, with a moon full and bright enough to cast shadows and a weird half-light beneath the dense canopy of leaves. I ghost my way through the shadows, traveling through the forest as far and fast as I can before Fal gets here. I duck behind a broad tree trunk as he reappears out of the in-between somewhere behind me.

“Blackbird!” He cries, and I feel my heart breaking at the anguish I hear in his voice, and feel through the twin-bond. “Stop! Please! What— what are you doing? Ava? Please!”

His voice breaks at the end, but rings out through the trees with no regard for anything hostile that might be around us. He’s about twenty feet behind me.

“Go home, Fal!” I shout at him over my shoulder, around the tree trunk.

“Ava— why? Please, why?” He’s close to tears, hurt and bewildered. I swallow past a lump in my throat. He takes a step toward me. “What’s wrong? What are you doing this? I— I don’t understand!”

“I need some time alone, Falkirk. I need to think. This won’t be forever, but I can’t stay right now. I’m sorry. Go home.” I tell him, mustering some harshness into my tone.

“Blackbird— please!” His voice breaks again. So does my heart. He comes closer.

“You have enough manna for only one more safe teleportation. Anymore, and you risk death. Whereas, I can do this for as long as I need to. Don’t come any closer. Go home, Falkirk. Please. Don’t come after me. Just leave me alone for now. I’ll return when I’m ready.”

“Ava—.” I feel his mind questing for mine, seeking entry, seeking understanding. But I shut him out, mercilessly. And I don’t open up.

“Do it, Falkirk! Stop worrying about me. I’m not a child.”

“Ava, please!” My brother pleads, and I’m hard put not to go to him. Instead, I say not another word. Merely teleport once more, back to the forest glade and the cairn.

I feel Fal’s fear and grief and anguish almost as acutely as if it were my own. It’s not that he’s deliberately pushing it through our at bond at me. He doesn’t need to. That’s how strongly he’s feeling it right now. And I hate myself for the pain I’m causing him.

He gathers his manna and teleports once more; I feel him land back in North Keep. I breathe a small sigh of relief that he’s done as I said. I don’t know what I would have done if he had followed me again.

The forest is peaceful here, but the peacefulness fails to penetrate to my soul. I want that peace. I need it.

Thasron was right. I seek for peace and do not find it. I am denied it.

But there is no anger at this denial. To my surprise, my deep anger is mostly gone. Taking its place is a deep remorse that sucks at me like quicksand.

I look around the forest, gaze at the stream that’s maybe a little more cheery than normal, and I take a deep breath. Shove that sorrow down where I shove everything else. I sink to the grass beside the cairn and lean back against the rough stones. I can see that poor paladin’s face in my mind. The faces never leave me and, here, in the place of his death, his visage refuses to be ignored.

Well, if he won’t leave me be, might as well not shove him away. Might as well own this. I can never escape it, after all.

I close my eyes and study the paladin’s face. He was a handsome fellow— pleasant to behold, but not eerily so. He had green eyes.

Callis’s face floats into my mind alongside the paladin’s. Despite her being the most recent death I’ve witnessed, the paladin’s face is just as vivid as hers. I study them both for a minute, side by side.

And then my breath stills and my eyes open wide.

No. It can’t be.

But it is.

In their faces, there is a distinct resemblance, a likeness too profound to ignore.

"You had my family murdered."

Callis and the paladin had been siblings.

They’d been siblings!

Just like Fal and me.

I tip my head heavily back against the cairn and cover my face with my hands, breathing fast and hard.

What have we become?

The question echoes in my mind, and I shy away from the answer.

But then I berate myself for being such a coward. There is one way I can know the full weight of what I’ve done.

I can open the door in my mind.

Slowly, hesitantly, I pull open that door. Then my eyes fly open, wide, as the door bursts open with all the force of my victims behind it. Searing pain, countless faces, and a multitude of screaming voices all fill my mind. My breath stills, and it’s only with an effort that I am able to drag more air back into my lungs.

I squeeze my eyes shut and clasp my head tightly in my hands.

I need this to stop.

It’s too much.

It's too much.

It's too much!

I utter a choked cry as I struggle to shove every face, every voice back behind that door, struggle to close the door again. And I do it, eventually. I slam the door closed once more and lock it securely. But it’s lost its integrity. It’s bent and warped and no longer fits in its frame. Faces can leak out. The voices cry louder. They’re harder than ever to shut out.

I need someone by my side next time I open that door. Someone who can draw me back, who can keep me from drowning in… everything.

That’s if I ever open that door again. I sigh again. Massage my temples with my fingertips. My teeth are sore from clenching my jaw. Despair swirls around me, and I struggle to master it.

Thas was more right than he’ll ever know. There will never be any peace for me.

There might be, something inside me whispers. Daniel and his friends have peace, somehow. Thas found peace. Somehow.

I know where they would say they found their peace. They would say they were given it. They would say that Elhim had given it.

I drag my hands down my face and let them drop to my lap. “If— if you’re there, please— please answer.” I whisper to the air, feeling self-conscious and slightly silly. I pause, listening.

There is no answer.

“I know you’re real. I know it. Daniel would— would say that you would forgive me, would give me peace. Please.” I pause again, holding my breath, listening for something. Anything.

Nothing. The forest is still, silent, not even stirred by a breeze. The only sound is the stream behind the cairn and me. I curl my fingers into fists, digging my nails into my palms, trying to anchor myself with the pain. Despair wells up in me and threatens to overwhelm me.

“I knew it.” I mutter. “This is pointless.” After a minute I rise and shove the despair down again. I welcome the numbness that replaces it. I begin building a fire pit.

If I’m going to spend a considerable amount of time out here, I might as well make the most of it.

I spend four days or so in the wilds. Alone. It’s… an unexpectedly blessed reprieve. I enjoy it. I feel Fal’s hurt and fear and anguish over my actions, but I ignore him as best as I can.

I forage for what I need to survive, mainly meat. I have everything else I need in my bottomless pocket. I fish in the stream by the cairn, and I sleep in snatches in the trees. My sleep is light and sporadic, and I am tired when I wake, but I am unwilling to succumb to a deeper slumber. I cannot risk being caught off guard.

By anyone.

I spend my time thinking, searching for answers, my thoughts whirling round and round without end. Trying not to avoid my problems while trying to avoid my darkness and shame.

Most of my anger is gone. It’s no longer there to be summoned forth. The bitterness is… fading. The pride is a wall to hide behind when things become too difficult.

But peace continues to elude me, and after a while I know only one answer to one problem among all of them.

I know who would never ask me to kill.

I know who holds some answers, even ones I don’t want to hear. Some answers I don’t understand.

I know I have a promise I should keep, because without my word, without my honor, I am nothing.

I am going back to Daniel.

Fal will not be happy, I know. But… Fal… is….

I sigh. The whole situation is complicated, more so than I’m willing to figure out right now.

I only know I need…

I sigh again, heavily, puffing out my breath hard enough to blow stray strands of hair off my face. I don’t know what I need.

But my decision is made. I dig my slate marble out of my pocket, hold it up and watch as its dark grey hue absorbs the sunlight. I remember the spell Daniel placed upon it, an exact replica of my brother’s.

Doubt swirls within me as I gaze at the small, round bit of stone. Before I can think too much and talk myself out of my choice, I clench the marble in my fist and whisper the name of the man I love.

“Daniel.”

And the world fades to white.

I stagger as I am deposited on the heaving deck of a ship. Daniel grabs my arms to steady me.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“Whoa, there! Easy.” He says, and then grins. “Ava! You came back!” The air explodes from my lungs as he wraps me in a tight embrace.

“Daniel— let— go!” I gasp out. He releases me, laughing, and I drag in a breath. I can’t help but grin at him. Stars, I’ve missed him.

“You came back.” He repeats happily.

“Of course I did.” I say, arching an eyebrow at him in amusement. “I told you I’d meet you in Tyrhyld. Speaking of which,” I turn to gaze out at the passing coastline and a city that we are rapidly approaching. A pall of smoke rises over the walls and buildings. “I thought you’d already be there by now.”

“The trials took some time.” The paladin says, sobering and folding his arms. I move to lay a hand on his arm, think better of it, and let my hand drop back to my side.

“A lot of executions?” I ask sympathetically. He drops his gaze, breathes in deep through his nose and out again.

“Yeah.” He says. “A lot. Most of Azaes’s soldiers had done despicable things and, well, they faced justice.”

This time, I do lay my hand on Daniel’s arm. “I’m sorry.” I say softly. He lifts his gaze to mine, and my breath catches at the sight of those sea-blue eyes. He searches my gaze, and smiles slightly.

“You’ve changed somewhat, Ava.” His smile holds sorrow in it.

“Yes.” I admit.

“But you are still fighting.”

Now it is my turn to drop my gaze. “I… I don’t know what to think or feel, I don’t know what to do, Daniel.” I lift my eyes to his, feeling my despair well up again. “I feel as if I’m drowning.”

His gaze softens, and my breath hitches again. “I know someone who can help you.” He says.

“I tried talking to Elhim, Daniel.” I tell him before he can begin speaking about his God. Surprise covers his face. “He didn’t answer.”

He narrows his eyes at me, and a faint smile tugs at his lips. “You weren’t listening, then.” The paladin says. I narrow my own eyes, lifting my chin.

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Daniel begins, but he is interrupted by Eliana, who climbs out of a hatch in the deck, catches sight of me, and runs over to happily squeeze the life out of me as best as she can.

“Hello, Eliana.” I gasp. Her embrace is even tighter than Daniel’s was. I look over her shoulder and see Auvanna, the drowling, shyly standing there. Stars, I’d forgotten about Auvanna. Where had she been when I’d left Azmal? Probably testifying against the condemned soldiers.

I offer the drowling a smile, and she shyly returns it. The fabric of her violet dress crinkles where her fists are clenched around it. Eliana finally releases me, and holds me back from her a little ways. Her eyes search my face with alarming perception, and I have to resist the urge to look away. Eliana’s expression saddens.

“You poor girl.” She says, and pulls me back into her embrace, albeit gentler this time. I am stunned. What did she see? Can my inner turmoil and struggle be that obvious?

“It’ll be alright.” Eliana says, and I have to squeeze my eyes shut against sudden tears.

How dear these people have become to me over the time we have spent together. How closely I know I must guard my heart when I don’t know how the next few days and weeks will play out.

That alone could tear me apart right now.

Eliana finally releases me again, and I step away at her and quickly swipe my hand across my eyes. The half-elf turns to Daniel.

“She tried talking to Elhim.” He says to answer her unspoken question. “She says there was no answer.”

“Ah.” Eliana clicks her tongue in understanding and sympathy. “Then you weren’t listening, Ava.”

I chuckle softly. “That’s what Daniel said.”

“Daniel is usually right.” Antony says, and I look up to see that he has joined us up in the wind and sun. He stands confidently on the deck, swaying easily with the heaving boards beneath our feet. I haven’t seen him in his natural environment before, I guess. He regards me with the same perceptiveness that Eliana did, and nods once. Then he crosses the few feet between him and Eliana to wrap his arm around her shoulders.

“What was that supposed to mean?” I ask him, puzzled by his look and nod and then his lack of elaboration.

“My comrades art right. Thee did not hear Elhim because thee weren’t listening.” He says matter-of-factly.

I sigh slightly in irritation. “I was listening. He didn’t answer because, well, because—.” I press my lips together against the words that want to escape, and turn on my heel. Stride to the rail and clench my fingers around it. Blink away tears that have no business plaguing me right now. Sea spray splashes up onto my face as I work to corral my tempestuous thoughts.

After a minute boots clack quietly on the deck boards behind me, and Daniel leans on the rail next to me. He doesn’t look at me, doesn’t acknowledge me in any way, he just stares out at the city that we’re fast approaching. I glance at him, but he seems preoccupied with the wind and scenery. The weight in my heart grows even more heavy.

And finally, I cannot stand the silence anymore. “What do you mean, I wasn’t listening?” I pitch my voice over the noice of the hissing waves. I hate how vulnerable I sound. “I was listening, Daniel. I was.”

He turns to look at me, leaning on his elbow against the rail. A stray wave splashes up and soaks his sleeve, but he doesn’t seem to notice or care. He merely gazes at me with kindness and compassion before he speaks.

“Elhim is everywhere, Ava. And if you speak to Him, He’ll hear. Sometimes He answers in a way we can absolutely know, and sometimes His silence is the answer. If you did speak to Him, then either you didn’t want to hear what He had to say, or He hasn’t called you yet. I suspect it was the former.” He finishes softly. I can’t keep my eyes from welling up with tears.

“I opened the door, Daniel.” I confess to him. He cocks his head, confused.

“What door?”

“The— the one in my mind.” I turn my gaze seaward and continue in a voice made quiet with shame. “The one behind which are all the faces and voices of the people I’ve killed. Every single one.”

“Ah.” His tone says he understands completely. “What happened when you opened this door?”

“I was overwhelmed.” I mutter.

“I see.” He reaches over and squeezes my shoulder sympathetically. I look up into his eyes that seem to reflect both sky and sea.

“I managed to shut it again, but it’s damaged and so am I; I can’t open it again, Daniel, I can’t!” I confess in a rush. He regards me for a moment with a kindness so profound, I want to shrink away from it. I don’t deserve his kindness.

“One day,” the paladin says slowly, choosing his words with care, “you will have to open that door again, Ava. You will have to face what you are. You will have to face the knowledge that you cannot be saved by any worldly power. But when that day comes I will be there with you, and I’ll be praying that you’ll know a redeeming performed by the only One who can do such a thing. I promise.” He squeezes my shoulder again.

“Thank you, Daniel.” I whisper, and then turn my eyes away to gaze at the harbor as we sail into port though the narrow mouth between the cliffs on either side of us.

Tyrhyld is a fair-sized city, ruled by one particular family of elves for as long as anyone can remember. Nobody would go so far as to say that the current patriarch of this family, Lord Garein, is actually a High Clan Lord, but he’s close enough to. He’s powerful.

I wonder what relation Antony is to him.

I am not left to wonder long, however, as two fair-sized ships sail up on either side of us, escorting us into the huge harbor. Their guns are already run out, and I count twenty to a side. A hefty weight for even ships such as these. They could blow us out of the water with nary a thought. Looking around at our own ship, I realize that she’s too small to carry much more than the weight of two guns. We probably don’t even have guns aboard.

“Ahoy the Mother of Pearl!" Calls a sailor on deck of the ship to our right. Daniel and I look over. Antony stands at the other rail. “Art thou friend or foe?”

“Friend!” Antony replies, cupping his hands around his mouth in order to be heard across the distance between the two ships. “I am Antarion Galaethor vor Elhim, youngest nephew of Lord Garein Galaethor! He called me home, and I have come!”

“Antony?!” The sailor cries. His tone is joyful.

“Hello, cousin.” Antony says, his tone dry but fond. I am stunned.

Antony has a true elvish name?

Moreover, Antony has cousins?!

Something lightly touches my arm, and I look over to see Daniel grinning at me.

“Not quite what you expected of him, is it?” He says, gently teasing. I shake my head.

“No, I didn’t expect this at all. I mean, he, well, he’s always been solitary and so… elvish.”

Daniel laughs. I find myself chuckling despite myself.

“True, that.” The paladin says. “He’s been a bit estranged from his family for a while, but he’s always been on fairly good terms with them nevertheless.”

“Why estranged?” I ask, curious. Daniel gives me an unreadable look.

“That’s something he’ll have to share himself, if he sees fit.”

“Very well.” I don’t push for answers, instead folding my arms and leaning back comfortably against the rail as I watch us sail all the way into the massive harbor.

Tyrhyld is a beautiful city, even half-burnt and streaked with soot and ash— it’s tall and built of pale stone only a shade or two darker than the white sand on the beach. The city walls extend into the ocean far enough to ensure that there are no weak spots on land. The water-side of the city is open to the docks and such, which may seem like a safety hazard, but, looking back behind us, I see a massive log-and-chain boom raised back into the narrow harbor mouth. Two heavily fortified watchtowers sit atop the pale cliffs on either side of the harbor mouth as well, to guard the entrance and work the boom. I have no doubt that it would take a fair amount of magic and men to overcome the garrisons of those towers. Obviously, the pirates didn’t succeed.

And it would take even more resources to gain the city itself. Tyrhyld is built on a tall, fairly steep hill that slopes down to the sea. The land side of the city is almost another whole city by itself, while the ocean side looks to be the sea-merchants’ and sailors’ district. Lord Garein’s round citadel sits in the middle, reaching for the heavens like a pale arm. I can’t help but stare up at it as we disembark at the docks.

“Watch your step.” Daniel says, grasping my arm as I trip over a warped board in the dock we’re walking along. Startled, I look at him. Amusement dances in his eyes.

“It’s quite the beautiful sight, isn’t it.” He nods at the citadel rising far above us. I look back up at it.

“It’s definitely something.” I agree, hardly paying attention to anything else.

The harbor master’s aide and Antony lead us through the orderly streets toward the citadel. I am amazed by how clean and bright and prosperous this city is, even with the ash and bits of rubble. I haven’t actually been here before, and I didn’t know such places still existed in the Clan lands. There are bright flowers growing in painted window boxes on the houses and shops we pass. At the least the ones that aren’t crushed and burnt.

Flowers! Who knew.

A merry sound catches my attention, and I look over to see Daniel chuckling and openly watching my ill-concealed amazement.

“What?” I ask.

“Have you never seen a city before?” He teases. I shake my head.

“Even as battle-worn as it is right now, I have never seen a city this bright and clean, besides—.”

“Besides what?” He asks. I shake my head again, waving my hand in dismissal of the question.

“Never mind. It’s one of those secrets I’d rather keep.”

Daniel’s face saddens. “Trust is a bridge, Ava. It travels both ways.” He remarks quietly. I look at the ground.

“I’m sorry, Daniel.” I say softly. He reaches for my hand and squeezes it gently.

“You’ll come around.” He says lightly. I muster a small smile, but make no reply. After a moment, he releases my hand and we walk in silence. I savor the feel of the sea wind in my hair and on my face as I try to regain control of my thoughts. Take a deep breath of the air. It fills my lungs, blessedly clean even with the smoke, and scented with market spices and salt. I allow myself to enjoy it.

A squad of guards in decent armor halt us at the the main entrance of the citadel. The main doors here are double doors; huge, reaching up dozens of feet. A smaller wicket gate is set in the left door.

“Lord Garein is expecting us.” Antony tells the guards, handing the squad captain the letter the elf had received in Ciliren. The captain peruses the missive, then nods to us.

“Very well.” The captain says and opens the wicket gate for us. The harbor master’s aide takes her leave of us and trots back down to the docks. Antony leads us inside the citadel.

The courtyard we find ourselves in is cool, shaded from the sun. It’s also as wide as a street, and across from us there is a two-story building wrapping around the rising center of the citadel. It circles out of sight. I look up and behind, and my breath catches in my throat. The outer wall rises the height of the highest point in the citadel, and the courtyard we’re in really is a street of sorts. I think the wall stands by itself all the way around the citadel. Recessed windows of sorts pock the surface of the wall high above us, letting in sunlight and wind. How in the world… does this stand like it does?

“Coming?” Daniel’s query jerks me out of my thoughts and I turn to see that my friends are all waiting for me, ready to move onward, and watching me with amusement as I gawk at the splendor of the architecture around us.

“Sorry, yes.” I reply, a blush warming my cheeks. I hurry to catch up to them, and Antony leads us around the building a little ways to a set of stairs that lead up to a second street. This street runs between the second story of the ground building and another two-story stone building. I’d wager it continues like this all the way up to the top.

Despite my keeping myself fit, my legs are burning by the time Antony stops in front of the doors to the top of the citadel. The top is a round tower, a couple dozen feet tall or so. Recessed windows pierce the stone walls in various places, letting in light and air to the interior, I assume.

The citadel is huge, and a beautiful work of art, but I am glad that I cannot see past the buildings around us. We’re hundreds of feet in the air and I have no wish to look down at the city below us.

Another squad of guards bars our way at the doors to this final tower. But when Antony announces himself and shows them his missive, they stand aside. One of the men tells us to wait and slips inside the tower. He returns a moment later and beckons us forward.

“Lord Garein will see thee now. Thine weapons, if thee please.” The guard says. We disarm ourselves and place our weapons in the custody of the guards. For my friends’ sakes, I keep back no knives or anything. The guard who is spokesman regards Antony with something akin to fondness. “It is good to have thee home, Kitten.” He holds the door open for us.

Antony presses his lips together in a thin line as his cheeks flush a pale pink. He motions for us to follow him as he steps inside the tower.

“‘Kitten’?” I whisper discreetly to Daniel. The paladin grins.

“Later.” He whispers back.

Inside the tower, it is a simple, single room. There is a dais across from us on which is place an elegant, wooden chair carved to look like an oak tree. There are around a couple dozen or so courtiers in the room— men and women both, and mostly elves—, and a straight path to the dais is open before us. Antony strides confidently down this path, stopping a few feet from the dais and bowing low to the elf who is seated on the chair there. Daniel, Eliana, Raeldon, Auvanna, and I mirror him.

“Welcome home, Antarion.” The elf on the dais has a surprising deep voice. Antony straightens and looks the elf in the eye. We behind him straighten as well.

“Thank you, Uncle.” Antony responds, his voice oddly subdued and formal. So, this is Lord Garein. While Antony and Garein exchange their pleasantries, I study the elvish lord.

I’ve never met him before. I hear he rarely leaves Tyrhyld. He’s ruled here for a couple hundred years, I believe, but he doesn’t look a day older than mid-thirties. He’s as ash-blond as Antony, with the same pale grey-blue eyes. Maybe slightly taller than my friend, and definitely with a more muscular build. Garein’s demeanor is every bit the lord.

I tense as Garein’s eyes turn to me, and he regards me cooly. “Will not the changeling reveal her true form? Thee will not be persecuted here.”

I freeze, then flick my gaze back and forth between Daniel and Antony. An odd sense of betrayal wells up in my chest before I have a chance to squash it down. “You told him?” I ask softly.

Antony’s face is unreadable. Daniel’s look is apologetic but firm.

“Everything that you told us. Antony sent a message ahead, detailing our group. It wouldn’t have been right to hold back information like that from his lordship.” The fool paladin says.

I lift my chin, icy formality entering my tone. “We will speak of this later, Daniel.” Then I turn my gaze to Garein. “Forgive me, my lord. If you truly wish it, I will reveal my true form.”

He inclines his head to me, all cool seriousness. “I do wish it, Lady Avalon. I will have no pretenses here.”

“Very well.” I sigh softly, resigned, and drop all physical guise. I know it the instant Daniel and the others behold my true form. The paladin’s eyes widen, and something unreadable enters his gaze. Antony just looks surprised. Eliana looks as if she has never seen a changeling before, Auvanna is astonished, and Raeldon…. Well, Raeldon is his usual stoic self.

I look down at myself, wondering why they could be so surprised. I am just me, your typical changeling. I haven’t cut my hair in a while, and its translucent white length flows down a little ways past my waist, unfettered by any ties or pins. My skin is a changeling’s usual translucent pale-as-snow hue. I can’t see my eyes, but I know that they are the same shade of grey as my brother’s are. I am the same size I usually am, so my clothing still fits… I literally cannot see what astonishes them so.

“What?” I ask, looking back up at them. Antony shakes his head.

“It has been so long since I have seen a changeling shift. I had forgotten the strangeness of thine folk.” He says, though not unkindly. I can’t help but feel a bit amused. Daniel just swallows before answering me, his cheeks faintly pink.

“You— you’re just… not what I’d expected.” He says, his voice oddly strained. I quirk an eyebrow at him, and glance at Lord Garein to see him looking at Daniel with an amused expression on his regal face.

“Um, alright….” I say, before addressing his lordship. “Is this more to your liking, my lord?”

He nods once, satisfied. Yes, I can definitely see the family resemblance between him and Antony.

“Indeed.” He says. “Outside these walls thee may take whatever form thee wish, but while thou art inside my citadel, I would not have thee hide thineself from us. I regret the hatred thine race has faced, but here thou art safe.”

“Thank you.”

“Uncle.” Antony speaks up. Garein looks to him. “The city has already repelled the invaders. There is no more fighting to be done at this time. What would thee have me do?”

Garein’s face saddens. “Help with the cleanup, visit with the inhabitants of thine city, and mourn thine dead, Antarion.”

Antony’s expression freezes. “Who of our family… didn’t survive?” He asks.

I’ve never seen him dance around a subject so delicately.

I see a sheen of tears cover Garein’s eyes. “Tyelion and Fyndír.”

With a quiet, choked cry, Antony abruptly turns away from everyone, his hands flying up to cover his face. His shoulders shake, and the whole room is dead silent. After a couple seconds, Eliana walks softly up to the elf and wraps her arms around him. He turns in her embrace to weep against her shoulder and neck. Despite myself, a hard lump lodges in my throat as I watch his grief. Eliana runs her fingers through his hair and murmurs quietly in his ear. I can’t hear her words, but I hope they help Antony. Garein strides softly to his nephew and lays his hand on Antony’s shoulder. He too says something too quiet for me to hear. I glance over at Daniel, and am not surprised to see him swallow hard and his eyes glittering with tears. Even Raeldon swipes at his eyes with his thumb. Auvanna stares at Antony, a stricken expression on her sweet face. She no doubt doesn’t understand.

I sidle closer to Daniel. “Who were Tyelion and Fyndír?” I ask quietly. Daniel quickly dashes his hand across his eyes and sniffs.

“Tyelion was Antony’s cousin, his mother’s sister’s son, and Fyndír was his brother.” He replies equally quietly.

Oh.

I understand Antony’s pain all too well now. If I ever lost Fal… it would tear me apart inside. I have lost people I counted as brothers and sisters, way back when our village was sacked and burned. I know the pain.

After a few minutes, Antony wipes his face dry and lifts his head, taking a shuddering breath. He looks down at Eliana, then stoops and kisses her cheek softly. Despite his grief, Garein smiles.

“I take it thou hast finally found a bride, Antarion?” He asks. Antony’s lips twitch in a faint expression of joy amidst his sorrow.

“I haven’t asked the question yet, Uncle, but I intend to soon.” He replies hoarsely.

“Very good.” Garein claps Antony on the shoulder. “I am happy for thee, Nephew.” He strides back to his throne and seats himself. “When thee see fit, thee may go.” He gives us a respectful nod, and we bow back to him.

“Come.” Antony says, gesturing. We follow him out of the room, out of the citadel, and back into the town.

“Where are we going, Antony?” Auvanna asks, trotting to keep up with the elf’s long strides. I listen closely to his answer, curious myself.

“I have a house in town that I shared with my brother, Auvanna.” The elf replies, clasping hands with Eliana. “We’ll be staying there for the time being, provided it is still standing.”

How long has it been, I wonder, since he has been back to his home? And how will he cope with having to stay in a place that he last remembers staying in with someone he has just lost?

Daniel looks down at me and speaks suddenly, dislodging me from my thoughts. “You are not going to change back from your true form?” He sounds mildly surprised. I look up at him, then down to myself. Sigh.

“What’s the point?” I answer quietly. “Walk a half-mile, might as well walk the whole mile.”

“If you are sure…”

“I’m not.” I sigh again. “But really, I may have to shift forms here, in public, so what’s the point of keeping it hidden now?”

Daniel makes no reply to that, but he does reach over and give my hand a squeeze. I withdraw my hand gently from his.

“Daniel, why did you have to spread the details of my life like that? I told you in confidence, and I was mostly fine with you sharing it with Antony, Eliana, and Raeldon, but not the whole blasted nobility!” I infuse my tone with some of the ire and betrayal I’m feeling.

“I’m sorry, Ava. But it was unwise to keep it from his lordship. You shouldn’t worry yourself. I know Lord Garein to be a just and discreet man, and he had every right to know just who he was receiving into his city.” That fool-blasted paladin is apologetic, but still firm on the subject.

“You still should have asked me first. I am a very private person, Daniel, and not easily trusting. I could have been arrested the second I set foot on the docks.”

“You were under my protection. Lord Garein would not have done something like that without my consent, even in his own city. He’s vor Elhim, Ava. He knows the meaning of forgiveness. You were safe, like he said.”

“Oh very well.” I grumble, knowing that it can’t be helped now. And… maybe Daniel’s right. This time.

I am stared at by the townspeople as we walk to Antony’s house. I see them whisper. I try not to care. I try to ignore the panic that threatens to well up in me. Once inside Antony’s house, once the door is shut against the world, I breathe a sigh of relief, relaxing for the moment.

I look around. The house is elegant but homey. It’s small and cozy. I like it. A kitchen, dining room, and comfortable sitting room on the first floor, and spacious, sunny bedrooms upstairs. I watch as Antony gently disengages himself from us and walks upstairs. I move quietly to the foot of the stairs and watch him stop in front of a closed door upon which is carved the likeness of a willow tree. Antony places his hand on the surface of the door, then softly leans his head against the wooden leaves of the willow. The sunlight streams in from a window at the end of the upstairs hallway and gleams on the tears running down Antony’s cheeks. He swallows hard. I move away from the stairs.

“So, ‘Kitten’?” I ask Daniel, joining him at the dining room table. He smiles.

“Yep. It was the name he was given by his siblings and cousins when he was younger, on account of his fierce temper and his affinity for heights and knives and squeezing into very small spaces. They used to use the name to tease him.”

“Antony had a temper?” I am surprised.

“Has.” Daniel corrects. “Has a temper. It doesn’t show the way it used to, and he rarely snaps anymore, but it is still there.”

“Huh.” I let that new piece of information revolve in my mind for a while, until Antony comes back downstairs to show us all to our respective bedrooms. I’m bunking with Eliana again, it seems. This time, we’ll have Auvanna with us as well.

We spend the next few days helping around the city, using manna and back-breaking effort to clean up rubble, and mourning over the dead, fortifying damaged walls, and occasionally rebuilding a house or two. I work alongside my friends and complete strangers, and I don’t get many dirty looks.

But there will always be those who let their prejudice get the better of them.

On our seventh day in the city, just as we’ve finished up the last of the major cleanup, I am approached by an angry half-orc who clearly doesn’t want me within a mile’s reach of the city.

“Clear off, changeling.” He growls.

“Hey!” Daniel steps in angrily, but I motion him aside.

“Leave off, Daniel. Let it alone.” I say, and move to ignore the half-orc.

Or, at least, that is my plan until the half-orc grabs my arm and spins me to face him. Daniel moves to to aid me, but the crowd has contracted and moved back, forming a ring around the half-orc and I.

“Leave off, sir.” I tell the half-orc icily, yanking my arm out of his grasp.

“When you leave the city.” He growls down into my face.

“I have as much right to be here as you.” I growl back at him.

“Ava!” I hear Daniel shout, and in my peripheral I see him trying to push through the crowd, trying to get to me. I ignore him. I can handle myself.

“You have no right to be here, changeling scum.” The half-orc sneers.

“What did I ever do to you, that you hate me so?” I ask.

“Your kind has always been a plague upon our lands, and the northern lords were right to drive you out. That point was driven home when D’Adrian stole his crown!”

My fingers curl into tight fists. No one gets to talk about my brother like that!

But then I force myself to relax. Violence will not fix anything.

“If you have a problem with my presence, you can take it to Lord Garein.” I mutter, turning away.

“No! Your kind killed my family! You deserve to pay!” The half-orc whirls me back around, and this time I shove him away. He staggers, but keeps his footing.

“Don't touch me again.” I growl at him.

“Your kind killed my family.” He repeats, anger and bitter grief smoldering in his tone. “I’ll see you pay.”

Great. Someone else whose loved ones probably haunt me. I’ve killed a few orcs and half-orcs in my time. I wonder which ones were his.

I try to defuse the situation, knowing that I’m probably lying as I say, “That wasn’t me. Leave off.”

“I challenge you.” He growls. “Single combat. Let the gods decide if you are guilty or not.”

My eyes widen, and my hand reaches up almost of its own volition and slides my mage blade out of its sheath.

“Ava, no!” I hear Daniel shout. The half-orc grins, bloodlust glinting in his eyes. He yanks a large sword out of his belt and levels it at me. The crowd, once silent, now begins to chant.

“Ava!” Daniel’s distressed cry barely rises above the noise of the crowd. I don’t look at him, instead locking eyes with the angry half-orc.

Kill, something inside me whispers. I see the same command glint in the half-orc’s gaze. Kill.

No.

I refuse to add anymore blood to my guilt. Not when it can be avoided. The half-orc must have seen something flicker in my eyes. Something that tells him I’m backing down. He snorts angrily.

“Fight me!” He roars.

“I’m not going to fight you.” I tell him, lowering, then sheathing, my mage blade. I have no thirst for blood anymore. The crowd around us goes abruptly silent. The half-orc growls in fury, but I’m already turning away. I’ve taken no more than a few steps before I hear shouts behind me. A half-second later, something strikes me, hard, high in the back. Blinding, burning, white-hot-ice-cold, sharp-as-knives pain erupts in the left side of my back and my chest. Steals away nearly all thought, all feeling, all breath. Only fragments race through my mind, sensations there and then gone.

Unexpected

Unprepared

Too sudden to fight the pain

Too sudden to gather my wits

I collapse.