by K L Hagaman
“You’re welcome,” Kaden said of his convenience.
Haleth smiled a little and raised a hand towards his shoulder, remembering to ask for permission first, before she lifted his shirt up and over his head to rest it, bunched, on his other shoulder. Revealing his wounded arm while leaving the other clothed, she peeled off the bandage and set it aside to discard later.
The fresh air of night was cold against his stagnant skin, and sensitive as the nerves were, he found his flesh to sting.
“Easy,” she hushed of him, sensing the pain already as she took two fingers and pulled them though the balm she’d made. With mindfulness, she started her work.
At first she simply spread the balm over the mangled heap that was his shoulder, but once it had been evenly dispersed, she began to work the mixture in deeper with massaging circles.
Kaden hung his head, focusing on steadying his breathing, feeling as much pain as he did relief from the pressure.
Haleth’s eyes occasionally slipped from her mending to his face, tracing the features there. On one such occasion, a flutter not his own sprang in his heart and he glanced at her only a second after she’d swept her eyes away.
“…Is that you?” he asked curiously after a moment. Wondering if such a thing were possible.
“Is what?” Haleth returned casually as she started to press more firmly into his muscle, refocused on her task. Surprisingly, the added pressure didn’t source more pain.
Kaden answered, simply pointing to his chest and the heart within.
Haleth slowed in a way that answered his question, and she set the bowl in her lap aside.
“I need fresh wrappings. Stay here,” she said without meeting his eyes, getting to her feet and vanishing into a side room.
Kaden watched her go carefully, curious, and a little…unsettled. He knew what he was feeling, and he knew it wasn’t his feeling. The energy was her own, he was certain of as much after the display earlier—their brief connection when their magics had flowed.
Haleth returned with a bundle of fresh cloths in her hands and came to sit before him again to dress his shoulder.
“So what brought you out?” she asked in a bit of conversation to move them along from where she’d left him.
“I was searching for some pen and paper,” Kaden confessed, watching as she started wrapping his shoulder.
“Ah! Your Princess awaits word,” Haleth chuckled kindly with a smile the same. “I have some you are welcome to.”
“Thanks,” he muttered with a pinched face as she tightened a bit of the bandage, securing his shoulder once more.
“We’ll do this again in the morning,” she told him. “And again at noon, then once more before you sleep.”
“And in between?” he wondered as she tied his arm down against his chest with a few last adjustments.
“In between?” she wondered. He needed to rest. She thought she’d made that quite plain.
“Haleth,” he started slowly. “You just told me I was a Towen today,” he reminded of the life changing revelation.
Her eyes slowly rose to meet his, feeling them heavy on her.
“I’d like to know what that means,” he shared.
And without words, she knew what he meant. He wanted to know of his people. How could he not? He wanted to see them and experience them…to understand.
“Tomorrow. In between,” she promised. She would show him.
Kaden gave a small tick of his head in gratitude.
Before long though, Haleth had sent him back to his nest for more rest with the pen and paper she’d said he could have, ever a woman of her word. She’d stayed behind, watching from her door as he made his way home across the bridge, making sure he returned whole enough. Only once he’d disappeared inside did Haleth do likewise, turning and vanishing deeper inside her own home for the night.
In his nest, Kaden lit a lantern hanging from the side of his hovering bed by an iron hook, got as comfortable as he could, and wrote a reply to his Princess.
My Moon,
For being far away, you’re still impressively bossy. I take that to mean you’re well? (I think I just heard the sound of your eyes rolling from here. xo)
I’m relieved to hear of Dorai, but not at all surprised. King Suna is a good man and I have faith in the Accordance. Stay true, Princess. You’ve got this.
As far as my bearing a mark in your defense, you need to understand something. Any mark earned as your Keeper is a mark I cherish because it symbolizes a tarnish my Love will never carry. I mean this, Lilja; I could never be plagued by a single one of them. They spare my heart a pain far worse.
Rest knowing I’m alright and I’ll be better soon. I find our being separated the worst part of all this.
That being said, please try to not get us shot at again in the future.
- Your Ocean
Chapter Twelve
The Rive
Finally, a letter reached the Princess she’d been longing for. Lilja found the folded parchment, sealed with a wax blob, having been slid under her door into her chamber one evening after another dinner with Suna. They’d been discussing the day’s talks with the Accordance. There was much to share with her Keeper about the happenings in Dorai—what was to become of the Faithful and the scouting of Tokū. But she doubted she would share many details of
the latter, knowing what her Keeper’s reaction would be.
Sitting on the edge of her bed, she read the letter, finding comfort the moment she saw his handwriting, but in the next, she found herself rolling her eyes.
The range of his letter was…true to his character.
Dearest Ocean,
You certainly are a jerk sometimes—endearing, but a jerk. I’ll have you know I did not roll my eyes.
So, tell me more. What is Shinrin like? The Towen? Father took me there once when I was little, and I remember it as a lovely but peculiar place. The air just felt…thick somehow with a sort of something I can’t explain. Just something different. Something more.
I hope whatever that is, proves to be what you need. Truthfully, Kaden, tell me of your arm. I’d rather not hear about it from a Towen or a medic.
We met with the Accordance today. It wasn’t
easy. Confessing the terrors within our walls was humbling, as was asking for assistance. But I did it with as much grace as I could afford. I think father would have been pleased.
It’s been decided the Faithful will be given a deterrent from the Accordance within the coming days, demanding they back down and return power, lest they force a rebuttal from the territories as a whole. Kaden, such a war…I hate to think of it.
But while we wait for a response from the Faithful, a scout is being sent to Tokū to determine just how much truth there is to this talk of stones before a decision is made over that matter.
For now I’m going to try and get some sleep. I’m hoping you’re resting as much as need be.
I dreamed of you last night. And the night before. Such visions ease my heart. I hope to see you there again tonight.
—Your Moon
Lilja read over her letter with a sigh. Grateful as she was they even had this, the letters, she longed for him in whole—his voice, his eyes, his touch... How she hoped he’d heal quickly, or that this whole war would find itself resolved soon and she could go to him.
✽✽✽
Lilja’s words found Kaden better when they came a day or so later. Or perhaps he’d been made better because of them.
The Keeper pined for his Princess, and never did seem to stop. She consumed his thoughts, which was a mighty thing for one who’d just discovered they were the stuff of legend.
He’d spent the day with Haleth as she mended his arm, and in the in-between, as promised, she’d started to teach him of the Towen.
She taught him how they differed, how he differed from the weavers.
“Manipulating magic never makes anyone a master of it,” she’d told him. “No more than manipulating
a person makes them truly yours. It’s harmony, balance, trust—it’s being one, openly, giving it equal room in your heart to exist. Magic is nothing to be wielded, it’s to be lived, just as love.”
That night, as Kaden wrote his Princess, he struggled with how to share such things with her—how to tell her who and what he really was. He barely understood it all himself. She was right; writing was a lot harder than speaking, especially when there was weight to what he needed and wanted to share.
My Moon,
Endearing but a jerk? That’s an equilibrium not many can achieve. And I would fare a wager, my Princess, that you did roll those eyes of yours.
Just like now.
How I miss them, Lilja. Those eyes. That sounds terribly lame when I can’t be there looking into them, doesn’t it? But they’re in my heart, memorized. And their beauty is hard to shake—Rolling or otherwise.
I hope, deeply, the Faithful take the way out given by the Accordance. They have to know this won’t end well for them now. And I’m eager to hear about this scouting. It’s a smart move. Saves time and gets answers.
My arm is a bit of an eye sore, but every day it’s bettering. Really. I’ve got some mobility returning and Haleth, the Towen caring for me, seems to be pleased with my progression.
So. Good for me.
I wish so desperately we could talk, Lilja. There’s so much to tell you about this place that I just can’t find the words for in a letter. Hopefully the time will come soon when we can be together. I’m trying my hardest to get back to you.
-Your Ocean
Getting back to her—it really was all he wanted. Healing was important, surely, and learning about the Towen, about himself, that was even more so. But Lilja, his Princess…that’s where his heart was. He may have been her Keeper, but she was just as much his, and he needed the tending of her presence. The rest would sort itself out one way or another. He believed that.
They struck him suddenly as he looked down at his letter, the words of his mother. She’d told him the world would always try to tell him who to be, but only he’d get to decide that.
He wasn’t a weaver, a Keeper, or a Towen…he was Lilja’s. That was the magic and existence that balanced his heart.
Had his mother known? Known any of this? His nature—
“Kaden!” came the rather loud chime of a familiar voice, aiming for his attention.
The man looked up from the letter and saw Haleth standing in his room. His gaze was a bit blank for a moment, thinking it awkward she’d just wander in like that and so quickly. She was a bit odd but never intentionally intrusive.
“Everything alright?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Is it?” she returned a little warily, eyes narrowed in concern.
When he seemed to have no idea what she meant, Haleth carried on cautiously, coming to kneel before him as he sat on his bed. Her expression bared as much worry as it did awe.
“Kaden…are you…are you aware of what you were doing just now?”
He looked between those eyes of hers and his letter, feeling the answer he was about to give was somehow the wrong one.
“Writing?”
Her brow rose and she sat back some, shaking her head slightly and sending her curls bobbing. “No, no you weren’t. Kaden…” she started in a bit of a hush. “You were riving.”
“Riving?” he questioned. Was he supposed to know what that meant? Also, he was fairly certain he’d just been writing.
“Riving!” she huffed almost exasperated by his ignorance. She hated he knew so little about himself. It seemed to rattle her heart more and more—the injustice towards him.
Once more, a flutter of emotion not his own, tender and yearning, yet annoyed and helpless, grazed his heart, and Kaden found himself once more physically brushing off his chest like the action would somehow be fruitful in dispelling the cobweb of feelings being spun there.
But this time it felt deeper.
He couldn’t reach the sensation and clear it away.
“Stop it!” he finally hissed, breaking, not liking the intrusion over his heart—especially when the feelings were suddenly so clear and…ones he didn’t reciprocate.
Haleth’s eyes sprang wide, and her expression fell to stone as the color drained from her face. The reds of her eyes flared to a glow with the molten light of her magics, but with her next breath, it was gone. For a moment, she just looked at him, collecting herself. And once she had, with a breath deep enough to sink the hollow of her throat, she apologized.
“I’m sorry,” she hushed meekly, looking at the floor between them.
“What is that?” Kaden asked outright, brow stern. “What are you doing?” He really…hated it. And he was done with it after that last bout.
It took Haleth a moment to answer, her cheeks flushing a few shades first. “I struggle with my emotions,” she confessed quietly.
Kaden slowed down, watching her carefully, unsure of what that meant exactly.
“I tend to impose whatever feelings I have on those around me—especially so if they’re of…a vibrant nature.”
Her eyes swept up, the reds of them having cooled. “I don’t mean to. And believe me, I wish I had better control over them.” It was embarrassing always and often left her feeling more foolish than not.
Kaden sat, surveying her for a time as he mulled that over—everything that meant. If that was true, he’d been privy to feelings in her heart that went beyond what he was capable of returning. He couldn’t help but wonder if she expected…?
He pulled a hand down his face, breaking eye contact, not exactly knowing what to say.
“And I’d rather not be made to answer for certain things. If I’ve not given my feelings actual voice, it’s because I’ve chosen not to for some reason or another. I know it seems backwards as your heart’s been imposed upon, and that is no light thing, but it’s not ever been my intention to do that. And I….ask for patience.”
She was trying. She was trying to control herself and what she felt. She wished for such a luxury—for the privacy of heart that so many others took for granted. She didn’t like waving around what she felt any more than others liked always feeling it.
Kaden was still at a bit of a loss for what to say. But he knew Haleth was sincere when she asked for patience. So, with a lick to his lips, a brush of his nose, and a steady breath, he nodded.
Haleth closed her eyes with a quiet, faint sigh, grateful for the grace, and when she opened them, it was with deadpan resolve to move on.
“But…you were riving, Kaden. Riving is…” she thought of how to word it for him. “It’s a sort of cry from one heart to another—usually between two Towen as our kind can pick up such energies. It’s like…a casting of a line in hopes of making a connection. But when there is no reciprocation, it leaves one in a bit of a…trance-like state.” She’d seen the daze before in those who’d lost loved ones.
Kaden’s brow knit, feeling a sinking in his heart as a realization suddenly began to weigh it down to depths of a dark sort.
“Imagine a radio sending out an emergency broadcast,” she illustrated for him. “It plays on repeat until—“
“Until it’s picked up,” he hummed low in understanding.
Haleth watched him closely, eyes saddened though she kept careful check of her heart. “Yes.”
So all this time, he’d been trying to…what? Reach out to his mother? Connect? Find her? Losing himself in the static of dead air…
With an elbow to his knee, he hung his head in his hand and worked his temples.
Haleth, feeling she’d already imposed in so many ways—afflicting his heart—slowly rose to her feet.
“I was just coming by to bring your balm and tend to you. But I can come back later—"
“Leave it,” Kaden muttered, not raising his face. “I can do it myself tonight,” he said quietly. He just wanted to be alone.
When no reply came, he eventually looked up to find Haleth having gone. She’d
laid the balm on the floor by the door on her way out.
Kaden let out a low sigh and fell back on the bed, sending the nest gently rocking.
Chapter Thirteen
The Fox & Hound
Lilja stood in front of Joss, hesitating for a moment, looking down at the letter in her hand one last time before she sent it off with him to be taken away to Kaden. She knew how her words would be received by her Keeper, but she couldn’t conceal this next part of her journey from him any longer now that the moment was upon her. She just couldn’t.
And he was going to have to trust her.
✽✽✽
Haleth had been respectful of Kaden’s wishes, and he’d not seen her again that night, nor the next day, nor the morning after that. But when afternoon came and another of the Towen named Seeva appeared in her stead yet again—a rather stout woman with silver hair seemingly turned more by the air of wisdom around her rather than age—he started to wonder if he’d been a bit…unkind.
“Is Haleth well?” Kaden asked as the Towen handed him the salve she’d brought for him. He was starting to grow a bit of a collection—not that he wasn’t thankful for the balm in its surplus. It was greatly aiding him based on his progress. He could raise his arm a bit now as opposed to a few days ago when it just hung there, dead-like.
Seeva’s smile was a telling one. It was far too polite. “Oh, she’s fine. She’s just tending to some other duties of late.”
Kaden returned a flat smile. “Well, please tell her thank you,” he said, raising his jar of ointment.
The woman ticked her head curiously, a bit surprised by the request. “How do you know she’s the one that made it?”
He looked down at it, having not really thought much of his assumption. But it wasn’t an assumption; he was far too confident in his thought. “Dunno. Just…feels like her?” he figured best, looking back up at Seeva with a bit of a squint, not knowing if that made much sense.
