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fifty-three

Anara

M y skin still radiates with the heat that took us from the north, bringing us here, to Shaston. I knew without even having to ask Thylas, we were in agreement on our destination.

He stumbles beside me seconds later, but instead of arriving with grace, he falls to the floor. Embers swirl around us from the fireplace we landed in, along with a cloud of ash. His fire is still blazing around his body and I cast a protective barrier framing us so he doesn’t burn the castle down. He looks around, realizing that the kukhe are no longer attacking and his flames falter.

“Where are we?” he asks, standing up and dusting off the back of his pants.

“Ereon’s room,” I say, walking towards the basin of water. “It’s the only place here that would be empty.”

“I thought you said you didn’t remember how to travel?” he asks quickly, scratching at his shadow of a beard. I don’t answer him and instead splash my face with water. The weeks away have been long, and I know I should have used the time I had to escape to go back to Minasa. But I didn’t want Thylas to travel alone, not if he intends to speak with the King.

Atlas is a monster, the worst kind, but I have grown to care for Thylas. It’s not love, but an understanding between us. He is just as lost as I am, wanting things we cannot have; praying for miracles we will never receive. The chosen path is not meant for us; we are not the lucky ones. Our purpose is to guarantee their happy ending.

Suddenly, I am grabbed by my wrist and it’s twisted at an unnatural angle as Thylas turns me to face him, my arm pinned behind my back. The tip of his dagger touches my neck. I steady my breathing and fight the urge to ignite the flames within me.

“You knew ...” His words are rough as they come out, but leave me confused.

“Knew what?” I gulp, the tip of the dagger cutting slightly into my skin.

“You knew who my father was ... who I am.” His teeth clench as the words slip between his lips.

“I thought it might be true. I wasn’t sure. ”

Doubt and fear flicker through his eyes as he gazes into mine. I had seen the resemblance in them, but it wasn’t until I felt the weight of my shackles pressing against the softness of the bed that I truly understood. The way he played with my fire, the way he had his own. I am a descendent of the first creation of Khaysus, but it’s Atlas who holds Khaysus’ power. If he wasn’t somehow related, there’s no doubt that my fire would have consumed him without mercy. Thylas lets go of me, and I watch as he paces back and forth across the floor.

“It doesn’t change who you are,” I say, approaching him like he’s a wild animal about to run.

“And who am I, Anara? I am no one. I lost my twin drop. I am a bastard of Shaston. Do I even still hold the title of Ambassador anymore? They should have given the title to Siphonie, I barely held it to begin with," he yells, his voice echoing throughout the silent room.

“You are loyal and you are good ...” I let my hand grab at his bicep, feeling the firmness beneath my fingertips, stopping him in his tracks. “You are one of the most honorable men I have ever met.”

As he scoffs at me, I stand my ground. “I mean it. Thylas, I can’t love you because my heart belongs to another, someone who came before both you and Ereon. But if things were different, you would have had a chance at it.”

His arm sweeps up and his hand cups my face. “If my heart wasn’t already claimed by Carnaxa, you would have had a chance to steal it.” He leans down and his lips find mine. It’s not a kiss of desperation, nor one of passion, but one that only those who have loved and lost can understand. A meeting of souls in the depths of what we are, what we’ve had to do, and what we’ve lost. A kiss that will remain with me as long as I walk this land.

We break away from each other, understanding in our eyes. He returns the dagger to the hidden sleeve in his boot before he walks to the door. “Let’s go meet my father.”