Page 24 of Journey to the Elderoak (Daughter of the Earth #2)

C asimir’s arm vibrated as his sword met Raine’s, the blade glinting in the morning sun.

Strike after strike, jab after jab, he let his anger and worry out in the ring.

And Raine let him. It had been two weeks since the dinner at Jorrar and Kai’s house—since the incident on the horse—and though the dinner seemed to help that night, it hadn’t lasted.

Ava was getting worse.

He had pulled back with the flirting, knowing she needed space as she figured out how to cope with and work through her traumas. They’d all been through the emotional aftermath of brutal battles. Of injuries and death. Of seeing their friends and loved ones killed in front of their very eyes.

But Ava was new to it. And she didn’t seem to be handling it well, refusing to talk about anything whenever he asked.

She hadn’t said one word about Zeph’s death even though she looked like she would burst into tears every time she met eyes with Pax as they walked into their suite.

Her anger and irritation were rising. She was barely sleeping, and he had left a note for her this morning to sleep in and try to get some rest .

“It’s time to take a break.”

“No,” Casimir said and continued swiping at his friend and dodging his blows.

“Enough,” Raine said as he pulled a move, knocking Casimir’s sword to the ground.

Casimir stood still, breathing heavily as his rage receded.

“You can’t fix it for her. What she’s dealing with. She must figure out how to do that for herself.”

“I know that,” Casimir spat.

“Stop taking it on.”

“I’m not.” He glared at his friend.

“We’ve all gone through it too. She’ll be alright eventually.”

They stood there for a moment, when Raine’s eyes caught on something behind Casimir. “Shit.”

Casimir turned around. Ava had just emerged from the castle, dressed in her training gear with her hair pulled back. She didn’t even acknowledge them as she marched past the rings toward the obstacle course, a look of determination on her face.

He rushed to catch up with her. “Did you not receive my note? I said to take the morning off and rest.”

She didn’t look at him as she kept walking. “Andras doesn’t take days off. Neither will I.”

“You’ve barely slept. One day off won’t hurt,” he insisted.

She stopped and whirled toward him, her tired eyes full of steel. “One day makes all the difference.” She turned and kept walking.

Accepting defeat, he followed her to the obstacle course and took his place at the sidelines. After a brief stretch, she took off to jog a lap around the field before taking her place at the beginning.

“Remember to focus,” he tried to encourage.

“Stop talking,” she bit back.

Running a hand through his hair, he remained silent and let her figure it out on her own.

She made it farther than she ever had before.

Over the difficult wall and through the other obstacles.

She was at the rope climb, the last obstacle.

He watched as she pulled herself higher, eyes hard and flickering with anger.

Come on, Ava , he thought, as Aro lumbered up beside him, Luna at his heels. Titus was chasing butterflies in the trees as if he was in a game of tag. Casimir smiled to himself as he recalled the day Ava brought the firefinch home, Aro’s fur soft beneath his fingers as he scratched behind his ears.

She’s struggling , Aro said.

“I know,” he whispered back.

It’s going to get worse before it gets better .

“I know that too.”

Don’t do what you usually do.

“And what would that be?”

Lose your temper and say something you’ll regret.

Casimir grunted. “As if I need an animal to give me advice.”

Aro chuffed and ambled off to the trees.

Ava had almost made it to the top of the rope, a hint of triumph in her eyes, when she lost her grip and fell, cursing to herself.

Casimir ran over. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” she said, avoiding eye contact.

She rose and walked away, but he grabbed her arm and spun her around. “Why aren’t you sleeping? Tell me about your nightmares. What are they about?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She tried to walk past him, but he stepped in front of her. “It’s none of your business anyway.”

Fury shone in her tear-filled eyes, mixed with pain, grief, and fear. He resisted the urge to whisk her away to take care of her, as he so desperately yearned to do.

“It’s interfering with your training, so it is my business,” he said, reaching for her. “Besides, I care about you. I want to help.”

She was silent.

“Please. Talk to me. You can’t keep avoiding it.”

“Talk to you?” she said, voice rising as she looked back at him. “What about you? I know nothing about your past. Are you a hybrid? What happened to your parents? Who’s Elara? Is she your old girlfriend? What happened? You want me to open up, but you’ve been a closed book this entire time.”

He stiffened at the mention of Elara, the mention of his own traumas he loathed to rehash, hands clenched into fists as her words hit him. There was a flash of regret in her eyes the moment she said it, but his temper flared and got the better of him.

“You know what? I’m not going to ask anymore. All you know how to do is push people away.” He turned and walked off, calling after her, “Train with someone else. If you want to spend your time feeling sorry for yourself, don’t let me get in your way.”

He walked back to the castle, ignoring Raine who had remained in the ring, gaping at him as he passed. He knew Raine heard everything and was sure he’d get a lecture later.

What was it you said moments ago? You don’t need an animal to give you advice? Aro asked.

“Shut up.”

Damn animals.

But Aro was right. He shouldn’t have said that. He’d been pushing her to talk about her trauma for weeks. But it wasn’t fair for him to expect her to do the exact thing he wasn’t capable of.

He was a fool.

Ava trudged to the woods and found a fallen log in front of a small stream. Collapsing onto it, she let the tears fall. She couldn’t do this. Couldn’t complete the training, would never make it to the Elderoak. And there was no way she could defeat a daemon queen. What was she thinking?

And what she said to Casimir; she regretted it the moment it left her lips.

She never meant to hurt him, and knew he didn’t mean what he said either.

Knew deep down he cared about her; had known it from the moment he took care of her in Saxumdale.

He was so tender that night, so calm. That this brutish warrior could have such kindness and compassion astonished her.

She knew the stoic general was a mask. A necessary face to wear to get the job done. To make tough decisions.

“I’m fucking everything up,” she mumbled, her head in her hands.

Something soft brushed against her hand and she raised her head to find Luna nuzzling her palm.

Are you alright?

“I don’t know,” Ava replied. “I’m…tired. And sad. And angry.”

You should talk about it, Luna said.

“What? Are you my therapist now?”

I don’t know what that means. But Jorrar’s coming up behind you.

Luna settled on the lush grass beside Ava as the crunch of leaves sounded, Jorrar emerging through the trees. He gestured to the log next to her. “May I sit?”

She nodded, turning back to the water and watching it trickle along the rocks. They sat in silence, not speaking for several long minutes.

“I heard you’ve been having nightmares,” Jorrar said at last.

“Yes.”

“Do you want to talk about them?”

She whispered, “Not yet. ”

“Did you have one last night?”

She nodded again, wiping her eyes.

“War is a dreadful thing. It strips us down and reveals all our inner fears. The rawness of who we are at our cores. It changes us.”

She didn’t say anything as she listened.

“But…we get to decide how it changes us.”

“I don’t know how.”

“You can’t go around it forever. You must go through it. Face it.”

She was silent for a long time, watching a butterfly as it flew from flower to flower, its turquoise wings shimmering in the dappled light.

“I feel…” she began, taking a deep breath.

“Broken. Like every single part of me is scattered.” She continued to watch the water as she leaned forward on her knees and clasped her hands.

“I keep trying to put the pieces back together before more fall off but there’s too many.

Every time I reach for one, another one breaks.

Ever since my mom died…I’ve been trying to patch myself back up.

” Tears slid down her cheeks. “But I can’t.

And now…after the torture, all of the deaths, that battle on the ship… ”

She wiped her face and swallowed the lump in her throat.

Jorrar hummed his understanding. “There’s nothing wrong with being broken.

We all are in our own ways. How else are we going to be remade if we don’t break from time to time?

” He turned to face her. “You’re trying to put the pieces back in the same places they were before, but they keep falling off. Do you know why?”

“Why?” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“They don’t belong there anymore. It’s time to try something new. To rebuild yourself. You aren’t the same person. You will never fit into your old self.”

“How do I even do that? ”

“Everyone’s journey is different. Talk about it.

Admit you’re struggling. Grieve. I also find that connecting with others helps.

Doing things for those you love.” He gave her a knowing look and clutched her hand in between both of his, eyes turning to steel.

“Who you are is not the things that happened to you, Ava. Who you are is what you do about it. What kind of person do you want to be? Decide you won’t let this war break you. ”

She heaved a big sigh as she absorbed his words.

“Ava,” he added. “Did you know that I knew your mother?”

“You did?”

“Yes. You remind me of her. The kindness she always showed. The tenacity. She would be so proud of you.”

Ava let out a sob, the damn bursting. She put her head in her hands and whispered, “I miss her.”

“I know. But she’s always with you. Never forget that.

And never forget who you are. The woman who helped dying citizens in the tavern after only having been in Mosshaven a couple of days.

The woman who rode a dangerous sea creature to save lives.

The woman who fought back and stabbed Raine the moment we found you,” he added with a chuckle.

Ava let out a small laugh, wiping her face with the hem of her tunic.

“It’s okay to be scared. But let your strength overcome it. Let it guide you. That is who you are.”

Jorrar departed on silent feet, leaving Ava alone to process his words.

Her fingers found Luna’s soft coat again as she slid down to the ground and sat beside her sleeping companion.

Jorrar was right. Casimir was right. She had to stop avoiding the hard things or it would continue to devour her and stain her soul.

Avoidance was her bad habit, her way of coping.

It was something she’d always done. When her mother had died, she threw herself into work so hard, she’d crash into bed with exhaustion so she wouldn’t have to think about her broken heart.

Back then, she didn’t have anyone else in her life.

She had only hurt herself. But now her inability to face her turmoil was harming those around her.

People she’d grown to love and care for.

And it was time to stop.