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twenty-six

Thylas

“ S he fucking hates me,” I tell Anara as we watch Ereon show Carnaxa the basics of staff wielding.

“She doesn’t hate you ... I don’t think. Honestly, I don’t know her well enough to say one way or another. You’ve barely given her any time to process what has happened since she woke,” Anara snaps back. It’s not hate in her voice, but something that reminds me of Siphonie. A tone of authority and confidence.

“He hasn’t given her any space.” I jerk my head towards Ereon. He is now the one with the staff, going through a training routine as her eyes take him in from head to toe.

“Ereon had little choice — especially given the Nle Shom .” She stops watching Ereon and Naxa train as she turns away and places her hand on my chest. “Come on. Join me while I eat. I’m tired of watching you sulk and I’m tired of eating alone.”

I shouldn’t care for Anara, but in the past few moons, she’s grown on me. We’ve bonded over watching the ones we love be with someone else.

As I follow behind her, her dark brown dress flows down her body. I noticed she stopped wearing her scarf around her hair — as she should — the first night we left the palace. When I asked why she would risk the wrath of the soldiers if they wanted to complain, she simply claimed, “There is nothing they can do to me that hasn’t already been done. And they know Ereon would kill them.”

Anara never said what happened before we left, but I catch the look in his eyes when she’s not looking. It’s the same one I have for Carnaxa. Something between Anara and Ereon isn’t the same anymore.

That should make me happy, but it hurts worse. Knowing that before he could have accepted me in Naxa’s life, and now if he gave up Anara — he’ll want me to back off too.

Anara still wears the shackles around her wrists, even though we’ve left Shaston borders. The King gave her more chain length between them so now she can move more freely, but the shackles are there, regardless. While he didn’t give a direct audience to either Ereon or I before we left, he did let some of my soldiers come on this journey.

We walk to a small campfire burning near my tent, and I reach my hands out to warm my palms.

A lot of the time spent with Anara has been like this, us, simply coexisting together. She pours soup out of a ladle from the pot suspended over the fire. She brings a bowl to me and pushes it towards my chest.

“Eat. You’re already getting thinner than you were when you arrived.” She turns her back, grabbing another bowl.

“You worried about my health?” I sit down on a log, letting my legs stretch out in front of me.

“Someone should be. You’ll need your strength for what’s ahead. We all will.” Anara holds her food in one hand and lifts the hem of her skirt as she walks to sit beside me. She gathers her chains and twists them until they lay in her lap, before she brings the bowl to her lips and starts sipping the steaming stew.

“Do you want me to see if I can try to get those off?” I nod at her shackles.

“You can’t. Not even worth trying. I’ve gotten used to them, anyway. They’ll be gone, eventually.”

I set the bowl down beside me. “Why do you always talk like that?”

“Like what?” She takes another sip of the soup she holds.

“I don’t know … like you know everything that’s happening? I’ve watched you. When we speak of the deluc, the madness, Carnaxa falling asleep — all of it. You never show a hint of surprise. ”

She takes another sip and licks her lip. “I’m from a small village. We learned to speak differently than you, to think differently than you.”

“So they taught you how to hide surprise when Ashonera is literally going to shit?”

“No, they taught me the signs, so I knew what to be prepared for. And all of this” — she twirls her index finger in a circular motion in the air — “was all decided on long ago. The specific details may have been unknown, but the Hasǔ knew.”

“The Hasǔ ?” I try to remember if that is a Shalmilish word, but I can’t recall it or its meaning.

“It’s what the Minsasians call the four who created Ashonera. Your goddess is one of the four and so is Ra Syam , Shaston’s god . He was given the name Ra Syam by the Shastonians, but that’s not his real name. They all had true names, but many don’t know them anymore.”

I faintly remember the night she spoke, talking about the original four and the one who created them. When I was a child, the only god I was taught was Ra Syam . The god of fire and bloodshed, the one who claimed women should always be beneath men. If you don’t pay enough to the priest, who in turn works for the King, for the materials to block Ra Syam rays, you would be punished by the burns on your skin. We were told that our tithes were required by the god, that his mercy would only bless those who gave. When I reached Antalis’ shores and they introduced me to the Goddess, I couldn’t believe it. I knew she was the one who had saved and redeemed me so that I could live on her shores. I thought my purpose was simple: protect and love Carnaxa.

She lets a soft chuckle leave her lips. “I can see how she loves you both, you and Ereon. Where he lacks any faith, you have so much.” Her hand reaches out to touch mine. “You are a good man, Ambassador Thylas. Don’t let the darkness take you.”

I want to ask her what she means when Siphonie plops down beside me, Rhenor following her. I pull my hand from Anara and she moves further away.

“I gave her the book,” Siphonie states. “Oh, hello, Anara.”

“ Bêlit Siphonie, Bêl Rhenor.” Anara smiles at them.

“Did you tell her I threw the book?” I ask. I found a book when I was out searching for Carnaxa’s dagger, completely intact and laying on the sand as if someone had simply intentionally left it there. I wanted to give it to her, but I had forgotten about it until the night I thought forcing her to kiss me was a good idea.

“No.” Siphonie shakes her head. “And I didn’t tell her you found it.”

I nod simply. I gave the book to Siphonie the following morning. If it came from me, I didn’t expect Carnaxa would take it. “Good. Anything else? She still isn’t speaking to me. Well, not much anyway.”

Rhenor leans in, the fire highlighting the red in his hair. “Yeah, I assumed that didn’t go well. I saw you walk up to her, but I could feel the tension from across the camp.”

“Yeah, she doesn’t want me around her. At all. ”

“Well, forcing a kiss probably wasn’t the best option, Thy. You should have known better.”

“What else was I supposed to do, Siph? Sit here and watch her fall in love with Ereon all over again, while I just what? Let her go?” I throw my hands up, tired of the constant conversations that remind me that I’m always wrong.

“Yes.” Anara’s voice cuts in. “That’s what you are supposed to do. That’s what anyone is supposed to do when their paths take them in separate directions, and have faith that your paths will cross again.”

I turn to her. “You are a better person than me if that’s what you are doing with Ereon. I told Carnaxa that I would always be there for her, always love her, and protect her, and I meant it. I don’t plan to let her go.”

“Stop assuming everything I say is about Ereon. I wasn’t talking about him,” Anara asserts.

A hush comes over all of us as we are unsure how to respond. I don’t know if any of us have considered what it means for Anara to be here. She was taken from her home, her family. Perhaps even a lover. I thought Ereon would have been the one she was speaking of, but I don’t know her. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own thoughts and circumstances that I haven’t asked about her.

Rhenor and Siphonie still sit beside me, her head resting against his shoulder as she glances at the moon.

“I know the moon is the same in Antalis, but it looks so different here. And while it’s cold, it’s not like I thought it would be,” she says, breaking the awkward silence among us .

I nudge the fire with a stick. “I remember the temperature being much colder when I was younger. Maybe it’s just because I was a child, but I know what awaits us will be frigid."

“I was talking to some of the Shayi today. They said that’s what they remember most about crossing into Shaston — the moon.” Rehnor yawns. “Said it was even up during the day.”

Siphonie suddenly sits straight up. “Upon the day the moon turns bright, the loyal heir’s death awakens eternal night. The waters will rise and the fires will blaze, then only the sacrificed can save.”

“Siphonie, you aren’t supposed to drink when you’re with child,” I scold her before I realize the death grip she has on my arm. Her nails dig into my flesh as she looks up, concentrating. “Are you okay?”

“It’s something Carnaxa said, and we heard it in Midaeliea from Queen Natala. It’s a prophecy. I didn’t think about it, not really. I’m not a priestess by any means and I love the Goddess, but prophecies are a little unbelievable to me. But what if ...” She twirls her hair in her hand. “What if there is more to it than ramblings? Naxa said today that King Atlas called her the ‘daughter of prophecy.’”

Just as I consider my next question, a fierce wind sweeps through, throwing us all off our seats and interrupting the conversation. As the breeze moves, it lifts the red and orange sand and the air becomes thick with a gritty texture. Landing on my back, I desperately reach out for something solid to orient myself. The fire has gone out. I hear Rhenor yelling for Siphonie, and her yelling back. He’ll find her, he always does. I pull my scarf around the bottom half of my face, trying to inhale, although the air feels as if it’s being sucked from my lungs.

Where is Anara? She was right beside me. I roll over and push myself up on all fours. “Anara!” My voice is drowned out by the howling winds as the sand stings my eyes. I squint looking for her but I don’t see or hear her anywhere. As another gust of wind knocks me down, I tightly shut my eyes, bracing myself for more of the invisible onslaught.

As I frantically try to make my way through the shifting sands, a soft glow catches my attention. A glow that is coming from her. Anara hunkers down where the fire was. She keeps her head down and eyes closed. And between her palms, she cradles a small, flickering flame.

She doesn’t fight against the sand storm, instead I notice a thin circle surrounds her as the sand slides across whatever barrier is there. The relentless wind keeps knocking me off balance as I stumble towards her.

She opens her hazel eyes and looks at me. I take a step closer to her and as I do, the world around me seems to go quiet, and it’s then I notice the sand is no longer digging into my skin. I look at her puzzled, as her soft hands hold a flickering flame that doesn’t burn her.

Around us the wind dies down almost instantly, the sand falls back to the ground along with the bubble she seemed to control. She stands up, closing her fist and the flame inside of it disappears. She hasn’t stopped looking at me once since we made eye contact .

“Are you dangerous?” my question springs forth, my fingers inching towards my sword.

“I could be.” She smiles. “But I mean no harm to anyone here, plus” — she holds up her wrist and the shackles on her — “these will not let me do much, anyway.”

“I think it’s time you finish the story you started in Shaston.”