Page 39 of Omen of ice
“But I knew about it. I did nothing…”
Liani’s desire to protect me often gets in the way of logical thinking. It has been that way since I was a child. Is it so hard to believe that this was just another murky decision made for what she viewed as my well-being? No…
Especially since she knew what a toll the donations take on me.
“I know you didn’t want the human here and that you were angry we brought her, but you’ve grown fond of her, yes?”
“She’s…not completely horrible.”
“She’s your age and pretty… I’m sure you’ve beenenjoyingyour time with her. She’s definitely safer than the chef’s daughter you were messing around with.”
It takes a moment to realize what she’s insinuating. “She’s anAphelian. I would never disrespect her like that.” I joke with Tania, but I would never— Not to mention that she wouldn’t overstep that line between us. She’s had plenty of opportunities.
Liani waves offhandedly. “Well, whatever it is you do with her, if you want that to continue, then don’t say a word about this. You might not be to blame, but she’ll blame you nonetheless.”
It’s been a little over a month now, and while I don’t know the Aphelian as well as I could, I do know that if I told Tania the truth, I would lose her.
I can’t lose her. Especially now that we have this strange connection.
I sigh, feeling defeated. “You’re probably right.”
“And if you did tell her—if she didn’t turn on you—that would put me in a precarious position…”
“What do you mean?”
Liani frowns. There’s a glimmer to her eyes, and a single tear rolls down her cheek. “I will not sacrifice you for her magic. If it came down to her or you, I would have herremoved. Permanently.”
I stare at her.
“I… I understand.” I don’t believe for a moment she’d hurt Tania. But I never thought Liani would have the druid tear stashed in our basement, either, so I suppose anything is possible.
“Now, please, go back to your room,” she says. “I’ll send something up to relax you. Try to forget this awful secret and know that it’s for the good of all those involved.”
She leads me to the door, down the hall, and up the narrow set of stairs. With each step, my mood darkens. I don’t want to lose Tania, but is lying to her even an option? Will this damned link give me away?
We have no idea how deep this connection between us goes…
13
Keltania
Valen did a decent job of staunching the blood flow of my wound, but I retraced the medical sigil to ensure the skin has knitted together. Satisfied the wound is closed, I venture down to the outer courtyard to work off some steam after trying—and failing—to sleep. It’s foolish, given the injury, but I need a clear head to think. Things have changed, and I have no idea where to go from here.
I’ve created a mess by linking us together. I have no idea what I did wrong. I stared at the picture Levina gave me for hours—I had been so sure of myself.
The moon is nearly full, its light throwing oddly shaped shadows across the courtyard. If I can close out the rest of my surroundings and ignore the not-so-subtle throb of my injuries, I can almost pretend I’m back in Lunal. The feel of the brisk night air caressing my skin as I practice, the sound of nocturnal animals filling the silence. I inhale, fighting to remember the scent of our fields—lilacs and fresh grass accompanied by the faintest smell of whatever concoction the kitchen had planned for the following day.
Stance steady, I lift my blade and begin the calming motions of Kravik, the druid form of combat. I spent so many sleepless nights practicing in the clearing behind the barracks. The fluid movements and razor-sharp discipline did more to ease my mind than anything else. When practiced outside the battlefield, the motions are serene, beautiful to watch and calming to complete. When used against the enemy, it’s deadly.
Aphelians are never coddled, never held or sung to sleep as the childhood monsters creep out from under our beds. Food is rationed. What little magic we have comes from the land; we live connected to it. When Aphelian gave half the power away, we were weakened. We could no longer manipulate the lands, so our harvests were meager. The Order is afforded a small portion of the crops in Lunal, with the majority going to the villagers.
Training was harsh and often cruel, and I know I’ll never shake the nightmares of it as long as I walk this plane. But the Order did its job. I’m stronger, faster, less likely to let this life break me. Things like hardship and pain aren’t hurdles but motivations that force me to do better.
And that’s what this is. Another hurdle. This is the Goddess testing me to see if I can overcome.
I can.
I breathe in slowly and adjust the grip on my blade. In, out. The air moves through my body as though the sword and I are one, filling me, fueling me. Up, down. Eyes closed, I move to the sounds of nature, an echo of my long-forgotten heritage. Old tales of peace and greatness intertwine with rich magic that once connected us to nature in a way I can never fully comprehend. We were far more docile then. Existing to better our surroundings, taking pride and reverence in all living things.
