The Pariah Child- Sarafina's Return

by Natasha D Lane

  Basin wiped a hand over his face before meeting her gaze. A redness had filled his cheeks, just under his watery eyes.

  He cleared his throat. “Abelard is dying.”

  People died. Sarah knew that. Humans, elves, vampires, dwarves, everyone at some point died. What Sarah didn’t understand was why Abelard had to be the one dying. And why right in front of her eyes.

  The old dwarf hadn’t stirred since she and Skuntz arrived hours ago, after traveling through Lyrica’s underground caverns. While they walked, Sarah felt like an eternity had gone by. Now that she was sitting with her old friend while he faded beside her, she wished she could go back to that walk.

  Then none of it would have been real. Not yet.

  “Would you like some more water?” Klara, Abelard’s daughter, asked.

  Sarah smiled at her but shook her head. Skuntz declined, as well. He pinched his chin and stood quietly in the corner.

  “I’m sure he’ll wake soon,” Klara said. “He’ll be happy to see you.”

  Klara had an angled face, encircled by lovely shoulder-length orange hair. Her eyes were the greenest Sarah had ever seen and her cheeks held a few freckles. If Sarah had to guess, she wouldn't have pointed Klara out as Abelard’s daughter at first glance. But the wide build of her shoulders, the way she carried herself, head held high, and how easily she moved with an ax strapped to her…well, that seemed more Abelard-like.

  Sarah had cried when she first laid eyes on Abelard. Her eyes still stung, and she sniffled at his bedside. Klara, on the other-hand, seemed perfectly content. She even hummed beside Sarah.

  “The roast should be done shortly.” She gave Sarah and Skuntz a large smile. “It’s Da’s favorite.”

  Sarah gave Klara a slow nod, before returning her attention to her old friend. She tried glancing at Skuntz but his eyes were downcast.

  “Um…” Sarah began. “How long has he been ill?”

  Klara stared at the ceiling for a moment. “It’s been a few months now. We’re all waiting for his final day now.”

  “What?” Sarah gaped.

  Klara narrowed her brows. “His final day. It means the day he dies. We know it’s coming.”

  A tension shot through Sarah, forcing her neck up, so she looked down at Abelard’s daughter. The young woman seemed none the wiser, continuing to sway and hum.

  Sarah ground her teeth. “How do you know he’ll die? He might get better. He could!”

  Klara shook her head. “He won’t.”

  “You’re wrong!” Sarah jolted from her chair and marched away from the unfeeling woman. She turned to Skuntz. “I know. We can find a cure. Skuntz and I will go looking for one. Klara, you just need to keep him alive for a few more days.”

  The dwarf stared at her. “This isn’t an illness from a wound or plague. My father’s old.”

  “That doesn’t mean he has to die,” Sarah replied.

  The young woman shook her head. “Yes, it does. We’re all going to die at some point.”

  The air twisted in Sarah’s chest, shaking her from the inside. Suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to move her sword across Klara’s face.

  She had done everything she could to save her own father, including incurring her mother’s betrayal. Why wouldn’t Klara do the same for Abelard?

  “This is what my father wanted,” Klara stated. She rose to her feet, moving along the bedroom walls decorated in weapons. She smiled. “Healers came to see him. They all gave him medicine, which he whined about taking, by the way.” She moved her hand along a sword, then placed her palm over its handle. “The remedies worked for a while. He’d always become sick again in the end. That’s when he knew it was time.”

  Skuntz sat up from the corner and turned to Klara. Gripping his chin, he could barely keep his eyes off the floor.

  “You have our sincerest condolences, Klara. I’m sorry Abelard could not perish on the battlefield.” He gave a quick turn of his lips. “From what I’m told of him, he would have preferred it that way.”

  The young woman laughed. “Now, that is one thing we can agree on. But when the battlefield is not an option, when old age is what takes a dwarf, we have our graveyards, too.”

  Klara looked at Skuntz. He nodded.

  “From earth we are born and from earth we return,” Klara whispered. Taking in a long breath, she closed her eyes.

  Finally, she met Sarah’s gaze once more. “Because I am his only child, I will finish my father’s business. Fill his role as a warrior in our army and fulfill his unfinished tasks including helping you both. My father did consider you a friend, Sarah.”

  Sarah had crossed her arms and was staring Klara down. Reason or no reason. Abelard was dying. The least his own daughter could do was show some emotion. Yet Klara had none.

  “I can help you find the two witches you seek,” she said, placing the ax by her side. “And then I will escort you on your travels. I’m certain my father will agree. He’d want to make sure you both were safe.”

  Skuntz nodded. “It wouldn’t hurt. And we’d be grateful for your assistance.”

  Sarah gawked at him.

  Who made him her leader? And when did he suddenly become so kind?

  She directed her eyes downward and shook her head. When she looked up once more, she met both Klara and Skuntz eyes.

  “I want nothing to do with this.”

  She slammed the bedroom door behind her.

  Chapter 16

  A small patch of night sky was visible through a hole in the caverns’ ceiling. Even if someone peered straight through, down into the caverns, they’d only see darkness. That was exactly what Sarah needed at the moment.

  Torn between anger and embarrassment, Sarah had stormed away from Abelard’s home, until she realized she had no clue where she was going. So, she found the nearest collection of rocks in the tunnel and sat behind them.

  After escorting her and Skuntz, Calvin and Basin had warned them to stay within the main tunnel. Leaving it would lead to many other tunnels, which were connected to several other tunnels and so on.

  Though Sarah was furious, she still had enough sense to stay near the house. And now that she had had several moments to herself, that burning anger had simmered into a reddening embarrassment.

  The interaction between her and Klara raced through her mind repeatedly. A nightmare that wouldn’t end.

  She sighed. “I’m an idiot.”

  From what Sarah could tell, the caverns were nothing more than large, empty chambers connected by large, empty tunnels. Empty aside from the dwarves who occupied them, of course. Still, there was a loneliness in the mass of rock and shadow—a loneliness Sarah sought for comfort.

  “I want nothing to do with this.”

  She grabbed at the roots of her hair. Who was she to tell someone how to deal with loss?

  Stretching her legs out, Sarah leaned back against the rock, and stared up into the patch of night. Her chest constricted as she fought back a sob.

  The sky blurred.

  “He just…for a moment, I was thinking of my daddy and…I need to be home!” She slammed her fists against her thighs. Her red curls fell around her like a curtain as she hunched over. She clenched her fists against her abdomen, while salty trails ran down her cheeks.

  A furious tension twisted inside Sarah. She kept her fists clenched, squeezing her nails into her palms as her entire body palpitated.

  Sarah could hear her breath bursting from her in short gasps. Yet she almost felt like she was hearing it from someone else. Like she was watching another person decompress their sadness, hurt, confusion, and frustration…only for all those things to restrict once more.

  “I need to be here, too.”

  Her fists relaxed in her lap. The palpitations stopped, and Sarah stretched out again. Slowly, she breathed in through her nose, then out through her mouth, easing her muscles after their strain. She wiped at her cheeks, and looked up into the night.

  The sky wasn’t blurry a
nymore.

  She sighed.

  “Now, I need to go apologize.” Sarah rose to her feet and began marching in, what she hoped, was the direction of Abelard’s house.

  Deep breath, deep breath. You were the wrong one here, Sarah.

  She gave a hard nod before throwing the house door open and moving into the back bedroom. The door was ajar.

  There was a familiar groan.

  “You’re not the only one. I’ve knocked a human or two on their backside in my day.”

  Abelard’s laugh filled both the room and Sarah’s ears.

  She stared.

  Skuntz and Klara sat around the old dwarf’s bed laughing, steaming mugs in their hands.

  The old dwarf caught her eyes, and a large grin—with a few teeth missing—spread across his face. “I’m glad I’ve lived to see the day.”

  “Abelard,” Sarah whispered, feeling her mouth curve up. She stood by slightly opened door, fingers grazing the door frame. “You—you’re awake. ” The words left her mouth like a secret.

  Klara said, “Come in, Sarah. I’ll get you a bowl of roast. Here, take my seat.”

  “Oh no, I can stand.”

  She shook her head. “What sort of host would I be? Here, please.” She gestured toward the chair, and Skuntz patted the seat.

  Sarah sent a smile her way, hoping Klara would see the apology in it. When she took her seat, Abelard grabbed her hand and gave it a hard squeeze. She looked at him but refused to meet his eyes.

  They blazed with an earnest welcome she couldn’t match knowing they’d have to say farewell soon.

  Taking a deep breath, Sarah briefly closed her eyes. He gave her hand a gentle pat.

  “Klara told you, didn’t she?”

  Sarah nodded.

  “Though I won’t be able to fight at your side this time, as my only heir she will fill the role,” he replied. “I’ve taught her everything she knows. The rest she learned on her own.”

  Holding a cup and bowl, Klara made her way to Sarah’s side and placed her food on the nearest table. She wiped her brow and sent the entire group a grin.

  “A hearty meal and hearty conversation? Tonight’s looking to be a good one.”

  With his free hand, Abelard reached out to Klara, his blue eyes gazing into her green. “Since the night you arrived at my doorstep, each night has been a hearty one. You’re a very memorable surprise.”

  Klara’s face crumbled for a moment. She turned away from her father but Sarah could see the dwarf wiping her eyes.

  How could Sarah have ever thought this was easy for her?

  “Hm. I think I’d like to hear about that. You were a surprise, Klara?”

  The young woman laughed. “To him, yes. To my mother, not so much. She didn’t know she was with child, until Da had already gone on to another battle. She didn’t have many other options except to raise me.”

  Sarah mashed her lips together, feeling the question brewing on her tongue.

  Klara sat on the edge of her father’s bed. She looked over Sarah and Skuntz. “I’m certain you’re wondering where my mother is now.”

  Sarah and Skuntz glanced at one another, before shaking their heads and shrugging.

  “No, of course not,” Sarah replied.

  “Never crossed my mind,” Skuntz added.

  Klara raised a brow, a smirk pulling at her lips. “Uh-huh. Well, in case you were, when I was twelve, she decided it was time I grow up. She had been the same age when she began supporting herself. So, my mother abandoned me with a few belongings. I knew she had written about my father in her diary. That’s how I got here.”

  Abelard huffed. “It was her loss, dear Klara. Don’t forget that.”

  “Yes, I know, I know, Da.”

  “Oh, and Sarah?” Abelard asked, moving his attention to the redhead.

  “Yes?”

  He sighed, casting his eyes away from her. “I can only hope,” he whispered, “that you won’t think less of me.”

  “Why would I ever do that?”

  He sighed. “Because Karla’s mother and I were never married.” The old dwarf sniffled which caused his wrinkles to move across his face like waves.

  Sarah bit back a laugh. “What?”

  “I know!” He covered his face, and shook his head. “It was not the decent thing to do. I was young. When her mother came to —”

  “No, no, no!”

  Klara, Skuntz, and Sarah glanced at each other. Apparently, none of them was interested in hearing the details of Abelard’s unsanctified love affair.

  The old dwarf slanted his brow. His bottom lip dropped into a pout. “You don’t think different of me, then?”

  “Not at all,” Sarah assured him. “You’ll always be noble in my eyes, Abelard.”

  He smiled. “That’s—” Sarah’s old friend gripped his chest.

  “Da!”

  Shaking his head, he held up a hand to Klara. Ragged coughs wracked Abelard’s body and chips of earth shot from his mouth.

  They were covered in blood.

  Klara grabbed his head while Sarah placed a hand on his back. With her other hand, she placed her mug to his lips.

  Abelard drank gratefully but when the cup was empty, he met Klara’s eyes.

  “Fetch Calvin and Basin.”

  Sarah had never been to a funeral. She had definitely never been to a warrior’s funeral and definitely not when the mentioned warrior was still alive. Yet it seemed like her second trip to Lyrica was going to be full of nothing but new and painful experiences.

  Leaning on Klara, Abelard walked in front of Sarah. His lips were turned to his daughter’s ear and she bobbed her head while he spoke. Without having to hear, Sarah was certain he was providing Klara his last instructions. The dwarf equivalent of a will and testament.

  Sarah’s eyes burned.

  Why isn’t there something I can do?

  She sniffled and set her trembling jaw. Abelard’s last memory of her would not be ruined with tears and snot.

  The brothers Basin and Calvin marched behind them. Dwarves lined their small group on either side, each carrying a lantern. The sound of their footsteps against gravel filled the caverns. Their shadows moved along the walls, sometimes crossing over one another due to the number of attendees.

  Apparently, Abelard had been more renowned than Sarah had known.

  A low groan filled the space, gradually increasing in volume until the very noise shook the earth beneath them.

  Sarah peered around her. Each dwarf had placed a hand on their abdomen and was humming in sync. To her surprise, even Skuntz had found the rhythm.

  Standing tall and straight beside her, the elf stuck out even more than she did. Height aside, his leaf-green skin and light brown hair would draw anyone’s attention. However, he hadn’t seemed uncomfortable once since traveling beneath Lyrica with dwarves.

  Sarah, on the other hand, had cried twice and thrown a tantrum.

  She sighed. Everyone around her appeared more familiar with loss than she was. Was that good or bad in Lyrica? Sarah couldn’t decide.

  The march continued.

  Soon two large statues came into view. Both depicted a dwarven warrior, axe raised in the air, pure battle rage decorating their faces. Right below where the axes clashed, there were tall metal gates leading to an illuminated room.

  The dwarves leading Abelard’s march pushed the gates aside for everyone.

  Sarah’s eyes widened when she entered the room. Her march came to a gradual halt as she took in the dwarven cemetery.

  There was a hand on her back. Skuntz gently ushered her forward.

  Sarah had expected tombstones or even names carved into the walls. Instead, the space was full of sculptures of dwarf men and women. But something poked at Sarah.

  There was no organization. The sculptures were placed randomly around the cemetery. No columns or rows. And they all were so different. Not only in features but in poses, as well. Some had looks of peace, others sadness, or some combi
nation of joy and melancholy. However, no matter which sculpture Sarah looked at, she had a sense they were all saying goodbye.

  She knew this was where Abelard would say goodbye.

  The dwarves that marched beside them spread out around the edge of the room. Sarah and Skuntz continued following behind Abelard and Klara.

  The humming stopped. The room filled with an unsettling silence, aside from Abelards’s grunts as he made his way. The old dwarf was breathing hard. Blood covered pebbles trailed behind him.

  “Here is fine, Klara,” he said. “Here is fine.”

  Klara nodded before stepping away from her father. They grasped hands once more, staring into each other’s eyes. Despite his age or illness, Abelard’s hands were still larger than Klara’s. They enclosed her own, wrapping around the hold she had on him.

  He grinned that toothless grin.

  “Your hands will be much more capable than mine ever were,” he said.

  Klara shook her head, tears pouring down her face. Abelard grabbed her chin to still her and she closed her eyes.

  “You knew this day was coming,” he stated.

  Klara nodded.

  “And you know you are my daughter.”

  Again, she recognized his words.

  “Then you know what blood runs through your veins. You’re strong, Klara. And you’re not alone.”

  Abelard looked left where Sarah and Skuntz stood. Sarah had started crying long before he had turned to them. She had promised she wouldn’t. Then her lips began to tremble, her jaw began to quiver, and her heart felt raw.

  She was going to have to say goodbye. Again.

  “Sarah,” Abelard said, offering her his hand. She gladly took it, giving up on his last memory of her involving anything more than snot and tears.

  He set his eyes on her. “Whatever may come, you’re more than capable, Sarah. Find Serwa and Alexander. Restore their kingdom. And, please,” he briefly turned to Klara, “look out for my daughter.”

  Sarah nodded, her breaths coming out in short bursts. She wiped at her eyes.

  “Thank you, Abelard,” she said. “Thank you for fighting beside me, believing in me. You helped make me strong, helped turn me into a warrior. I’ll always be grateful.”