The Bond of Blood

by Kody Boye

  Days later, after what felt like an eternity of waiting, Nova went to see Katarina.

  Since recovering from what she had described as a ‘small cold’ that had left her bedridden despite her overall good health, they’d spent a fair amount of time together walking the town and the surrounding areas, though it became apparent rather quickly that the townspeople thought this spectacle mystifying and completely out of the norm. Several times, whilst walking through the streets, the commoners would stop from their place chopping wood, hanging laundry or tending to pets and children to watch them with eyes unsure, though each time this happened Nova pushed the feelings aside and continued along the way.

  “Nova,” Katarina said, stirring him from thought.

  Nova turned, a frown crossed over his face. She’d said nothing since they’d stopped at the top of a nearby hill, looking down at the town and the people within it who appeared to be nothing more than ants. “Yes?” he decided to ask.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. Why?”

  “You haven’t said anything.”

  Neither have you.

  He chose not to repeat his thought for fear of insulting the young woman. Instead, he smiled, set his hand over hers, then drew closer so the distance between them would seem more intimate. “I was just thinking,” he said.

  “About?”

  “You.”

  When he realized the severity of his words, he swallowed a lump in his throat and turned his head away. Shortly thereafter, Katarina turned her head down to reveal the scarlet that lined her cheeks.

  “I’m sorry,” he frowned. “I didn’t mean—”

  “No. It’s all right.” She looked up and smiled. “I was thinking about you too. You’re a very nice man.”

  “Thank you. I’ve tried to treat you well.”

  “You do,” she said, looking down at the town and crossing her hands over her stomach. “I appreciate you doing this for me.”

  “I like spending time with you.”

  “I do too.”

  For the first time since he’d began seeing her, Nova set his arm across her shoulders and drew her in close. “Is this ok?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said.

  After she leaned into and adjusted herself against his chest, both she and Nova watched the sun’s glowing rays slowly fading on the distant horizon, marking across the world its passage over a day in which darkness seemed never capable of swallowing the light that ruled both their lives.

  “Nova?” she asked.

  “I’m here,” he whispered.

  She said nothing further.

  She just wanted to know I was here, he thought, closing his eyes. That’s all she wanted to know.

  He tightened his grip around her body and thought of all that could come from this.

  Love was in the air.

  It could have consumed him, were it a creature of blood and life—a dragon, mythical and dead, returning from the grave to haunt his spirit and devour his heart; a Harpie, young and wild, freshly-born and ready to tear into the world; a monstrous sea creature, lurking beneath the deep, ready to swallow the fisherman and his ship whole. These were the things this feeling was made of, that wrought through the perpetual bars upon his conscience with their vines thorned, and it seemed, on the last day of spring, as Nova walked through town and toward Ketrak’s house, that he would be engulfed by the very thing that plagued his conscience and ruled his heart.

  He’ll come, Nova thought, standing on the stoop of the very house where the woman he loved lived and ate and slept. He just needs to get up.

  The moment he finished his thought, a series of scrapes and clicks sounded from behind the door before it opened, revealing the very well-dressed mayor in hues of purple and blue. “Get in here!” the man said, pulling Nova into the house by the shirtsleeve. “It’s too cold to be outside!”

  “It’s not that cold,” Nova smiled, trying to still his chattering teeth.

  “Sadly, you’re wrong, young man. Come, sit with me.”

  Ketrak led him into the sitting room. There, the mayor gestured Nova to seat himself in one of the fine, plush leather chairs and turned his attention to the mantle—where, beneath its stone face, a fire lay brimming, trapped and displayed behind an iron gate.

  “You need a coat, or some kind of long shirt,” Ketrak mused, turning his attention from the fireplace to Nova, where his eyes wandered his body until they eventually fell back to his face. “Do you have any spare clothes, Nova, or do you just go around wearing those all the time?”

  Nova made no attempt to hide the sigh or nod that followed. “Yes,” he said, as humbly as he possibly could. “Well, no—I don’t have clothes, but yes, I wear this shirt and these pants every day. That doesn’t mean I don’t wash them though.”

  “Nova.”

  Nova turned his head up to find that, in the mayor’s eyes, a demon lay resting—curled, sad, confused and injured, licking its wounds. “What?” Nova frowned, unsure what to think of the look or the feelings that lay behind it.

  “I’ve been your friend for months and you haven’t even mentioned this.”

  “I’ve always been poor, sir. Me and my father both. You don’t have to worry about me. I manage.”

  “I don’t think it’s acceptable.”

  “Neither do I, but I’m not the only one living on their spare change here.”

  Ketrak nodded, but made no move to continue the thought that Nova had begun. Instead, his expression changed. A short moment later, he closed his eyes

  Is something wrong? Nova thought, frowning, readjusting his position in his seat.

  “My daughter’s very fond of you,” the mayor said, not bothering to look back at Nova as he allowed his eyes to fall to the fireplace. “I hope you’re aware of that.”

  “I am.”

  “And are you as fond of her?”

  “I…” Nova took a deep breath. Though the mayor’s question seemed innocent enough, he couldn’t help but wonder if the question was, in fact, a trick, one which would be used to reveal his whether or not his intentions were true.

  Do I say it, he thought, or do I stay silent?

  Either way, the mayor would question him, so with confidence, he took a deep breath and said, “Yes sir. I am.”

  “You’re being honest then? You have feelings for her as well?”

  “You should know I do.”

  “I do,” Ketrak chuckled. This time, however, he turned his head and faced Nova directly. “I know it’s only been a few months, but…”

  When the man trailed off and left the remainder of his sentence to the imagination, Nova frowned and crossed his arms over his chest, not sure what to say or do in response. The mayor had never been one to leave statements unfinished or sentences up in the air.

  What was he going to say?

  Not wanting to wait any longer than absolutely necessary, Nova leaned forward and braced his hands against his knees. “What, sir?”

  “Would you be interested in marrying my daughter?”

  A fire could have started and burned a whole town asunder before the dots in his head finally began to connect. Strung, of course, by an old man’s hands, and pulled taut to make his puppet dance, it seemed to Nova that a choir had begun to sing in the sky and the old man before him had started to dance. Arms extended, head hung slack, mouth agape and legs positioned evenly—Ketrak the mayor of Bohren could have been nothing more than an apparition meant to dissuade him from his feelings, and for that Nova wondered if it would be proper to answer the question or just to leave it sit in the air.

  What do I, he began to think, but stopped before he could continue.

  He looked up to find the man still suspended in animation—waiting, eyes watching calmly, face showing no emotion. Ketrak didn’t look angry for the lack of immediate response, nor did he appear troubled because Nova hadn’t answered immediately. If anything, he looked content, as though he could be given all the time in the worl
d to answer the question.

  “Sir,” Nova began, nearly stuttering, heart flickering within his chest. “I—”

  “I’m sorry,” Ketrak said. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

  “I care about your daughter. It’s just that… I haven’t even kissed her yet.”

  “You’ve said this was the first time you’ve ever pursued a woman,” the man muttered, bowing his head and twisting the tangles of his long hair between his fingers. “I’m sorry, Nova. I had no right to put that on you.”

  “I do care about her. If anything… I might even be in love with her, if you want my honest opinion.”

  Nova reached back to rub his neck—hoping, in the process, that his cheeks hadn’t brightened.

  “I know you have feelings for her,” Ketrak said, falling to one knee. “That’s more than obvious.”

  “I don’t want to push her into anything. She’s been opening up a little more, but… well… I don’t know how to explain it.”

  “I understand.”

  Unable to meet the mayor’s eyes, Nova bowed his head. He kept his attention fixed on the floor for several long moments before the mayor reached out to touch his shoulders.

  “It’s all right,” Ketrak said, tilting Nova’s chin up with two fingers. “Take it slow. Take your time.”

  After standing and shaking the older man’s hand, Nova walked out the door, all the while feeling guilty about just what he had done.

  Though his heart yearned for many things, he wasn’t completely sure it desired marriage, at least not now.

  For a good, long while, he waited. For the urge to get his feelings off his chest, for the anxiety to go away, for the need to finally tell Katarina about his true feelings and to open his heart, mind and soul to a bigger, brighter future—he waited for it all, silently praying to the one God he believed in that it would eventually come about. Sadly, as he soon came to realize, those kinds of urges couldn’t just be summoned and let out of their cage. For them to be true, earnest and honest, they had to reveal themselves on their own, much like exotic fish when breaching the tide to reveal themselves to humans. Though doubtful of his discovery and unsure of his emotions, Nova realized that answers would eventually come, hopefully sooner rather than later.

  Nearly every day, regardless of the weather or the conditions of the sky, Nova and Katarina took their daily walk, hand-in-hand and wrist-to-wrist. Eventually, as the chill crept forth and pressed snow across their land, Ketrak came to reveal to Nova a coat he had said was once his as a younger and much bulkier man. Startling-black—with red fur cuffing its hood, wrists and waist—Nova could hardly believe it when the man passed it into his arms. I want you to have it, Ketrak had said, even as Nova had refused. It’s yours. Take it.

  “Take it,” he whispered.

  “It’s cold,” Katarina said, drawing close to Nova’s side and forcing him from his thoughts.

  “Do you want to go somewhere?” he asked. “I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if we went to the bar.”

  “You don’t plan on drinking, do you?”

  “I’m not. Sorry to say, but I have no money with me right now.”

  He also thought of adding ‘or at home,’ but decided not to. What reason was there to remind his love of poverty when they were having such a good time?

  “That’s all right,” she said, turning her head up as the bar came into view.

  The moment they passed into the establishment, filled to the brim with drunkards and civilians, Katarina laced their fingers together, as if beckoning for a response.

  “It’s okay,” Nova whispered. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

  “I know,” she replied. “It’s just… I don’t like being around so many people.”

  They settled themselves down at a nearby table and refused the advance of a waitress who came forward bearing two cups of fresh, ice-cold water. Within the booth they sat in—together, content and all the happier for their progress—Nova’s emotions began to thrust themselves upon him, as if they were terrible creatures willing to pick apart each and every part of his person.

  You’ll have to confess soon, those creatures said, kissing his cheeks and trailing their nails down his spine. This isn’t going to work otherwise.

  “Katarina,” Nova said. “Can I… can I tell you something?”

  “You know you can,” she said, setting a hand on his chest. “Nova, what’s—”

  Before she could continue, he bowed his head and brought their lips together.

  Though he didn’t make it last for fear that attention would be drawn to them, the short moment that their flesh bonded filled him with a fire he had never felt before.

  “I’m in love with you,” he whispered.

  Likely unsure of what to say, as her eyes were filled with an emotion Nova had never once seen throughout his life, Katarina kept her hand on his chest. At first, she didn’t look him directly in the eye, as her nerves were probably lighting her mind. But, gradually, after several long and indeterminable moments, she turned her head up and smiled.

  “I love you too,” she said.

  This is it, Nova thought, bringing her into his arms. I told her.

  Regardless of the noise and of the commotion around them, Nova managed to rock Katarina in his arms without caring about what others might say or think.

  He loved this woman.

  Nothing would come between them.

  Several months later, just as winter began to roll in with a gust of wind and a hail of ice, Nova and Ketrak stood in front of a large mirror preparing for the day that would ultimately change their lives.

  “You look great,” Ketrak said, smoothing out the shoulders of Nova’s pitch-black, white-buttoned shirt. “Don’t be nervous.”

  “I’m getting married,” Nova laughed. “How do you expect me not to be?”

  “It’s just a brief ceremony and a kiss.”

  “And a party afterward…. Well, for your side of the family, anyway.”

  “It’s for you too, son,” the man laughed. He slid an arm around Nova’s shoulder. “You look damn handsome.”

  “Thank you.”

  “No need to thank me.”

  “That reminds me of something.” Nova slid his hands into his pockets. “I never did find a ring in my home. I tried, but I couldn’t.”

  “That’s all right. I’ve got something for you.”

  The man slid his hand into his pocket and retrieved from its depths a small black box, then said, “Here,” before opening it. “I want you to give this to my daughter.”

  Nova could hardly believe his eyes as he leaned forward and looked into the box.

  The silver band, complete in its harmony of eternity, looped three individual times to reveal a bountiful ruby, a succulent emerald and an awe-inspiring sapphire.

  “Sir,” Nova said. “I can’t—”

  “You won’t have a thing to give my daughter if you don’t take this.”

  “Where did you get such a treasure?” he asked, taking the box from his soon-to-be-father-in-law before sliding the ring out of its slot. The texture each stone possessed astounded him, to the point where he didn’t even notice that Ketrak had touched his shoulder until the man’s lips were at his ears.

  “We should get out of here,” he said, patting Nova’s shoulder. “You need to be out first.”

  “I know.”

  After slipping the ring into his pocket, Nova took a deep breath, then stepped up to the door.

  Am I ready for this?

  Rather than wait for any form of response, he pushed the door open.

  Immediately, all eyes were on him.

  Talk about unnerving.

  He began to walk up the church aisle and tried his hardest not to look into the crowd of people that surrounded him. Though it was only Ketrak’s family, as Patrus Eternity’s relatives were few and far between, the tension in the room seemed to mount with every step. What, he wondered, could they possibly be thinking? Did they
think him a petty commoner, a man with no money, a boy who worked in the fields digging potatoes and beats and carrots and lettuce, or did they think of him as someone who would take care of their niece, their cousin, their granddaughter, maybe even their goddaughter and give her all there was to give? Whatever the reason and despite the cause, Nova began taking deep breaths before he stepped up to the podium, directly where a priest stood garbed in a fine, dark gown.

  “Everything’s going be just fine,” the priest said, reaching forward to grasp his hand and clap his shoulder. “You don’t need to worry about a thing.”

  “I’m not nervous,” Nova said, forcing a smile.

  The priest only chuckled.

  Turning to face the audience, the holy man said, “Can we have the bride come out?”

  Nova stood—one hand clutching the tail of his shirt, the other the ring in his pocket—and waited for the double doors opposite him to open.

  Katarina would be walking down the aisle in but a few moments.

  He couldn’t believe how he felt.

  His heart ablaze, his mind in rhythm, his breaths even and cool despite the nerves and his hands trembling as if he’d just been struck with the Chill—it seemed, in that moment, that his entire life had been building up to this very moment.

  Come on, Katarina. Don’t keep me waiting.

  If he was this nervous—so nervous, in fact, that he wanted to tremble—he couldn’t imagine how Katarina felt. She had to walk down the seemingly-unending aisle, in front of all the people he had just passed, her dress long and her face hidden by a veil, but unlike him, they would all be watching her, the beauty in the flowing white gown and the rosemary perfume.

  “Sir?” he asked, wanting to reach out to touch the priest, but somehow resisting the urge to do so. “What’s taking so long?”

  “Someone’s just went into her changing room.” The priest took hold of his arm. “Don’t worry. You don’t have anything to be nervous about. This will be over before you know it. Then all you’ll have are the memories.”

  Before he thought the feelings of anxiety could get any worse, the double doors opened. From them walked the woman he loved more than anything else in the world.