by Kelly Napoli
CHAPTER 14
ENLIGHTEN
Kiethara’s eyes snapped open.
A chilly gust of wind rocked her hammock with such a force it almost flipped over. She screamed, but the sound was lost in the fierce howl of the wind. She clutched the side of her hammock tightly, yet it did no use. Another gust rocked it violently and Kiethara tumbled out of it and into the grass.
She landed facedown. All her previous injuries from the day before came back to life. Her locket dug into her skin.
Kiethara groaned into the dirt.
Around her, she could hear the chaos the wind was creating. The branches of the surrounding trees groaned and the weaker ones snapped against its mighty strength. The wind pulled at her waist long hair almost painfully. It shrieked and howled and bellowed as it rippled through the forest.
Curiosity eventually overtook any other feeling of reluctance to get up, so Kiethara lifted her head to see what could possibly be going on. The sight she saw wasn’t pretty.
Tree limbs, some of decent size, scattered her clearing, which was decorated with a plethora of fallen leaves. The clouds above were shockingly black; the only light to be seen was the lightning that flashed at random intervals. Any thunder must have been drowned out by the wind. Surprisingly, there was not a drop of rain.
Kiethara did not know how long she lay there, marveling the sheer power of the storm. She was slightly annoyed that it had awakened her, bringing her forcibly back to the cursed reality she lived in. Unfortunately, there was no changing the past. As she now fully understood, self-pity got you nowhere.
She pulled herself to her feet, the wind almost knocking her right back down. She let out a low whistle. She certainly hadn’t seen a storm like this in a while.
A dull burn in her throat enlightened her to the fact that she was very, very thirsty. She spun on her heel, only to get her hair blown into her face. Lovely. It would take an hour just to get to a lake. With that thought of encouragement, she pummeled her way through the current of air toward the trees.
Kiethara pushed herself to the trees and sprinted the inches that separated her from the next. Her skin caught the wind for only a short moment, mercifully. She kept with this tactic, only pausing to catch her breath or attempt to control her shaking. Her progress was slow, but effective.
She paused, almost at her lake, when she heard a noise. She spun around, scanning the perimeter, but nothing alighted to her eyes. Wouldn’t it be lovely—and just her luck—if Gandador decided to show at this very moment?
“Kiethara!” a muffled voice called out.
Kiethara spun around once again. It didn’t take her long to spot a figure walking towards her, coming from the direction she had been heading. It also didn’t take her long to realize who this figure was.
Navadar.
“Navadar!” she cried, running out to close the distance between them, despite the wind.
“Kiethara!” he cried again, though this time his tone was colored with relief. He hurried towards her as well; as soon as she was in arm’s length he swept her up into a crushing embrace.
“You’re all right, you’re all right, you’re all right!” she sang, feeling the same amount of relief as he did. She had believed Aaron’s words, yes, but having the real proof in front of her finally quelled her silent fears.
“Of course I am! What happened?” he suddenly asked, holding her out at arm’s length to get a better look at her.
“Um…long story?” she tried.
“Oh, no. None of that. This time, I get the whole story,” Navadar replied.
Kiethara sighed.
“Well…” she started, but was cut off by a howl of wind.
“What?” he half-yelled. Kiethara gritted her teeth in frustration.
Then she had an idea.
She raised her hands, crystals glowing brightly. A golden sphere suddenly appeared around them, enveloping them in gold…and silence.
“Huh. Much better,” Kiethara said, looking up to see Navadar’s surprised expression.
“You’re certain you got out of the forest without a problem?” she asked, scanning him over again. He wore his usual boots, but this time black trousers were tucked into them. A heavy brown cloak hung over his shoulders, falling past his knees. He wore gloves of the same color, and his hair was slightly ruffled (the way she preferred it) but there did not seem to be a scratch on him.
“I’m fine,” he sighed, rolling his eyes. “The question is, are you?”
“Yes,” she said.
“No, you’re not. You still have not told me what happened.”
“Foolishness,” she sighed.
“You call everything foolish,” he pointed out.
“Yes, well, that’s simply because everything that happens to me usually is, I dare say. I might add, I do not call everything foolish.”
“You’re changing the subject,” Navadar accused.
Kiethara paused for a minute before answering. “So?”
“So tell me, what happened?”
“Well, after I got you to leave”—he grimaced at the words—“I…he…” she chocked, finding herself unable to finish.
Navadar’s abrupt appearance had brought her out of her horrid reality, back into a small fantasy, but now he was forcing her back into it. She now had something she was keeping from him; indeed, how could this fact have such a complicated effect on not just her situation with Gandador and Aaron but with Navadar as well? She couldn’t keep something like this from him, not if she wanted to be honest with herself, and she would have to do it now. She would have to be the one to enlighten him.
She turned away from Navadar. She was ashamed of what she was.
When they first met, they had been from different worlds, but the one thing they had had in common was the whispered fears and righteous anger they shared against Gandador. One common enemy united armies, as they said. She had a new reason to hate Gandador, but once she told him, he would have a new reason to hate her. The daughter of a killer.
“Kiethara?” he asked, alarmed.
Kiethara lifted her head to look at him with tortured eyes.
A bright light then blinded them both.
She turned to look at it so fast her neck cracked. The Spirit of Aaron was calmly walking towards them; the two of them froze in surprise, though for what she figured to be two very different reasons. Aaron did not like Navadar. What in the world was he doing here?
Aaron did not utter a word as he made his way towards her shield. He continued to walk, though she expected him to stop, until his golden figure fused with the walls of her shield and made its way through to the other side. There he stopped, a foot away from them both.
“How did you do that?!” Kiethara demanded in a breathless voice.
“Far beyond the point right now, Kiethara,” Aaron shook his head, but she sensed a faint smile. “Are you going to tell him?”
“I have to,” she whispered. He nodded.
“Tell me what?” Navadar asked.
Kiethara turned to face him slowly. She raised her eyes to him in the same slow motion, gazing into his forest greens that were a few inches above her own with caution. She parted her lips, inhaled, and then found the words locked inside her.
“I can’t,” she sighed, turning her gaze away. She couldn’t bear it anymore.
“Tell me what?!” Navadar stressed.
“He’ll hate me,” she whimpered.
Gandador’s opinion about the truth was more believable now. Before, he seemed the type of man that was only capable of lies—could you have evil without them?—but now she realized that perhaps the truth could be just as evil, just as painful to endure as a thousand lies. The truth just might cost her Navadar. Kiethara had to admit she had no experience with love, having loved but two people, but he meant something to her, something that she was not sure she wanted to lose.
“What? No, I wouldn’t…” he began.
“Navadar,” Aaron started. Kiethara looked up to see his
reaction. “Kiethara…has learned something about herself—”
“What is it?” Navadar asked, his face intense.
“It’s about the identity of her father.”
“I’m not following,” he said blankly.
“He—”
“Oh!” Kiethara cried, exasperated. Aaron’s words suddenly infuriated her. He had lied to her for years, so who was he to tell Navadar what she had to discover herself? “It’s Gandador!”
There was a dead beat of silence.
“What?” he asked.
No one replied.
“You…Why, you cannot be serious!” he exclaimed, looking as though he was about to laugh.
Kiethara bit her lip and entwined her fingers behind her back. Her heart forgot to beat.
“Impossible,” he whispered.
“She is speaking the truth,” Aaron confirmed in a wary voice.
“N-no! This cannot be!” he shook his head.
Kiethara realized something.
His denial was her denial. A statement simply stated like that, and one so absurd to comprehend as this one was, was not going to be alleged true by the listener without something far more solid than that. Proof was what he needed, because proof had been what she had needed. Without it, she would not be held accountable and her words would become the fantasy this forest had been to him before he had seen it with his own eyes.
Wordlessly, she removed her locket from round her neck. She ignored Navadar’s puzzled expression, and Aaron’s small sound of disapproval. She placed the locket in the palm of her pale hand, placing her thumb over the delicately engraved E. She closed her eyes, her crystals glowed briefly, and then she muttered the alien word.
“Evol.”
The locket clicked open.
The dizzying show of petals began. She watched them for a second time, but this time with a sinking disappointment. The same question ran through her mind over and over again: Why would her mother do such a thing? Had she really been so ignorant to his true intentions, or had they changed during the course of things? These questions ran round and round, never coming to an end. Or an answer.
After one last painful note of music, the petals fell back into the locket and the golden doors swung shut. Kiethara shivered as she put it back around her neck, raising her head.
Navadar’s eyes were transfixed on the locket as it rose up and down on her chest in rhythm to her breathing. His mouth dropped open noiselessly and his green eyes were wild. She dropped her gaze, feeling ashamed.
I’m sorry, Navadar, she thought. I’m sorry you were dragged into this, I’m sorry that you fell in love with me, and I’m sorry this is what your adventure turned out to be. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry…
But she didn’t have the courage to speak these words aloud. Actually, she didn’t have the courage to mutter anything at all.
“You now know the truth, Navadar,” Aaron said matter-of-factly.
Silence again. Kiethara peeked up at Navadar from under her lashes and jumped at what she saw. His fists were balled and his expression was furious.
“You traitor!” he spat. “Have you been keeping this from me all this time?!”
“N-no! I-I just…” she stammered, shrinking back in fear as he towered over her.
“I trusted you! And all this time you’ve been his daughter!”
Navadar stepped towards her and raised his fist as if to hit her. Kiethara looked up at him in terror. She had expected a reaction of pain and anger, maybe loss, but certainly not of violence! He must hate her so, if he found it in himself to hit her. A sob escaped her lips at the thought of it; she closed her eyes in preparation to receive the blow. She had no fight left in her, not against anything.
“That’s enough!”
Kiethara’s eyes snapped open, shocked to see that Aaron was in between them.
“If you lay a finger on her, I will make certain it is your last act!” Aaron spoke the words so forcefully, and with such supremacy, that she shuddered from the crown of her head to the soles of her feet. He was terrifying even to her, and that she could not handle—she needed to get out.
Tears were streaming down her face as she lifted the shield around them. The wind took advantage without a second to spare, attacking her body with such vigor that she almost froze to the spot. Yet her terror gave her the will to lift her feet and break into a fast sprint.
Her feet took her to the only place she could imagine being. She craved for her familiar clearing, for the warmth of it. It didn’t hurt her; it never cast her out, or tried to hit her. It could do nothing for her but offer her the solace she needed, but it would ask for nothing in return.
It did not take her long to reach her clearing, but by the time she did she was shaking violently from head to toe. She crossed her arms and dragged her half-numbed body to the center, where a spinning hammock and two sturdy trees awaited her. She knew she could not sit in her hammock, but why not the tree?
Climbing up did not prove to be as much of a challenge as she thought it would. Once she was well concealed in the branches, the wind found it hard to reach her. She adjusted the thick branches till they covered her before huddling against the trunk and closing her eyes.
It took her a moment to conjure her thoughts and what she discovered was not much better than what they had been yesterday; worse, in fact.
She could only start with the basics. She was still alive. Frozen, but alive. The forest was not under attack and she did not believe Navadar would kill her…He was too good for that. She was safe, at least, from bodily harm.
Navadar hated her. The fury in his green eyes had been unmistakable. He hated her for what she was, something she could not change.
So she was alive, but devoid of something she had come to care and rely on the most…an even split in her fate, by far. Could she have had two worse days in all her existence? Had she sunk so far that the only reason she could be grateful was that she could continue to live for the forest? That was her duty, after all.
A leaf broke off and twirled through the air until it stuck itself in her hair. Yes, perhaps she was to be grateful. The forest would always be with her.
A bright light suddenly illuminated the smallest details on the bark of the tree she was clutching to. It seemed to be coming from the ground behind her, but she did not have to look to know who it was.
“Aaron,” she said in a dull tone.
“Kiethara, Navadar is on his way,” he warned.
“To do what, exactly? Shoot me with an arrow?” she asked.
“Oh, he would not dare, I believe I have made sure of that,” he told her fiercely. “But if he does mean to hurt you again, I expect you to defend, as I have taught you to do so. Let him have the upper hand again and the forest only knows what will happen.”
“I will not harm him,” she declared. “Let him do whatever he may.”
“Stop this, Kiethara,” Aaron commanded. “Act like a guardian. You could kill this boy in your sleep.”
“I beg to differ.”
“Would you prefer that I sent him away?” he asked. Kiethara detected a hint of hope.
“No, Aaron, I’ll take care of it myself.”
“Make sure to do that,” Aaron ordered before disappearing as suddenly as he had come.
A shudder ran through her as the wind picked up strength. She squeezed her eyes shut again. Go away, go away, go away! She was done with pain!
The storm howled and lightning struck. She held her breath as the heart inside her breast quickened its beat. Was that the sound of thudding boots? She could not say she had not been warned.
What on earth was she going to do? What if he meant to hit her again? She could not do what Aaron expected of her.
Kiethara brought herself to her toes, crouched on the tree limb. From this position she could gaze through the leaves and onto the clearing underneath her. By the edge of the clearing she saw a figure emerge. She could see everything but Navadar’s face, and her st
omach twisted uneasily. What if he was still furious? Very subtly, she made the branches around her thicken.
“Kiethara?” Navadar called out tentatively. She held her tongue.
“Kiethara, please come out. I…I’m so sorry. I will not harm you, I swear,” he pleaded.
Silence.
“You have no idea how sorry I am! I was…in shock, with what you told me. Imagine what you would have done if you found out I was Gandador’s son.”
Kiethara thought over that statement and, to her surprise, found it was spot on. He was right; she would have been furious with him if that were true. His reaction had been frightening, but now she understood.
Kiethara jumped from the tree and landed on the ground noiselessly.
“Kiethara!” he gasped.
She didn’t answer him. She crossed her arms and shivered as the wind whipped at her forcefully.
Navadar reached her in a few long strides. Without pausing, without her having time to react, he swept her into his arms. The warmth radiating from his body made her realize just how cold she was. She shuddered violently into his chest.
“You’re so cold,” he whispered.
“Mm,” she murmured, fitting herself into his warm embrace.
Navadar chuckled—a sound of relief—and held her tighter, wrapping his cloak around her to fit them both.
“You forgive me?” he asked her.
“Might as well,” she said. “I can’t have you attacking me, too.”
“I promise I won’t,” he said earnestly.
“I believe you,” she assured him. “Even the worst of men tell the truth. And you might just be one of the best.”
“You never fail to amaze me, Kiethara,” Navadar told her.
