In the moment it was impossible to know how much Kynier appreciated that she welcomed his embrace openly, even enveloping him slightly with the coverlet. That Kelski could bear witness to the parts of him he was most ashamed of and tried to manage control over, and not shy away from him. The feeling of her fingers scratching lightly at his scalp were a physical comfort. But the tide of his sorrow was too strong to be soothed by that alone. With deep, chest quaking sobs Kynier wept on her shoulder. His arms wrapped tightly around her shoulders and fingers dug into her skin as though the kelvic could somehow suddenly vanish and he was desperate to keep that from happening. Again.
The rich alto of her voice whispered gently in his ear. She had looked to him for strength and stability, so how was it at the most trying times it was him that faltered? Kynier was glad that Darvin was dead. Happier that Kelski was the one that did it herself so she could have closure. And while the Dragoon’s actions and impersonations had dug at the mage’s heart, those were not the things that made him weep. Kynier wept for her. And he was afraid for her… for them.
“Please stop crying… I love you.”
Somewhere deep inside Kynier slammed a door shut. The loud wet sobs ceased and the shuddering of his body was reduced dramatically. His lips wrapped around the curve of her wet collarbone as he forced the last tears that had escaped to run their course. The taste of her skin helped to sooth him as he took a few deep calming breaths through the nostrils. Kynier tightened his arms until the tips of Kelski’s shoulders dug into his biceps from the effort. For humans, it was one thing to feel it, and entirely something else to hear it as well as feel it. Kynier wanted to respond and profess his love. But the words felt drowned in his chest still. That he had accidentally locked it behind that door so deep in his soul and couldn’t retrieve it without continuing to bawl.
As he worked to piece himself back together she continued to speak in his ear. The sound of regret was only noticed from being so close. That Kelski seemed to regret him not knowing and had left it behind. Kynier understood. Society would tell you to “move on” and put it behind you. Kelski had been trying to do just that but Kynier hadn’t traversed as far down that path. To his dismay, he needed her to come back and help him along. And she did.
When his lips finally released themselves from the collarbone there was a soft pink blemish to the skin. His breathing had become steadier and he rested his forehead on her shoulder. The mage shook his head in disagreement when Kelski said it wasn’t his fault. Cheeks and brows squeezed tightly on his eyes to prevent more tears from joining the damp coating of his face. He wanted to be stronger than Darvin’s nature. But destruction was easy and needed no purpose or motive. To be stronger than that Kynier needed something to be strong for. The sea eagle was a pivotal figure in his life and everything he had with her was beyond the hopes of most. Yet there was more to be had. More they were destined for. And Darvin’s nature may have destroyed that path. Kynier didn’t know. And as terrified as he was about the possible answer, he needed to know. He had to ask.
“What did you mean when…?” he said into her shoulder. Kynier took a deep sniff and slowly removed his brow from her shoulder. The pale skin was soaked and pink where his lips had been. He did not pull away far enough for the coverlet to fall completely. The half asked question hung in the dark air. Shadows excitedly gathered closer to watch and listen. So that they could spread the tale of the Favored and the Nightstalker throughout the city. Kynier’s eyes were puffed from sobbing so fiercely, and their edges still twitched from the effort. A hand took part of that shield of hers away by tucking the hair behind an ear.
The second half of the question was stuck in his throat. Curse him, why couldn’t he say it? Kynier realized he wasn’t prepared to. Other words held more importance and needed to be said. The words “I love you” would say it, but by themselves they wouldn’t really tell her. So Kynier navigated through his emotions and memories. It was impossible to say what she needed to understand without more emotional outbursts. The memories were too deep and buried for him to completely avoid them. Kynier’s other hand reached through the curtain of hair that concealed the other half of the kelvic’s face. Tenderly he cupped the jaw and caressed her cheek with a thumb behind that curtain. With a deep steadying breath he began.
“I told you before, that I was born in Nyka. It’s a city of demigods ruling over it. So there’s law. And consequences to one’s actions. It is not like Sunberth at all, my Feather. Nyka was clean. With fresh water and food available. It was not the city my parents were born from. I don’t know why we had settled there, but it was a good city. One I was content to live in during my youth.” Kynier’s gaze hardened internally, as he approached the places he recently discovered had been darkened in his memory.
“But it was not safe. People would vanish. Man, woman, child, and on occasion the whole family. No one ever knew where they went. Or why they disappeared. Their possessions would be left behind like ash from a fire. Sometimes my parents held curious expressions before someone disappeared. But once that person was gone, no one but children would speak of them.” Kynier stared into that silver eye. “Have you even made a silent promise to yourself, my Feather? A conviction that wasn’t formed with a thought or said with words? Because that’s what I did as a child. Without realizing, I made a conviction to not allow myself to get too close to people. That way, when they disappeared, it wouldn’t hurt as much.”
Memory tapped emotion, and the two of them came forth. Hazel eyes glimmered with fresh tears as he bite down the sobs and continued to speak with a strained voice. “You… disappeared!”
Kynier nearly lost himself to the sadness of that fact. But he forced the words out as though there his lifeline to keep from being swallowed whole by his sorrow. “No one’s ever been half as close to me as you are! And then you were gone! You weren’t dead! People in Sunberth die! They’re left behind on display for others to see! But,” Kynier gaged on a sob. “You… disappeared!” His strength failed him as more sorrow poured forth. The mage’s head bowed until it rested against Kelski’s chest. For many ticks he wasn’t able to say anything, but there was more to be said. With several quick irregular breaths his lungs had gained enough to give more voice.
“And it is my fault. It is… partially.” His words echoed off her bare breasts. “Ebon told me, had we been bonded, the bond would’ve guided me straight to you. In less than a day I would’ve found you. That I would’ve felt your presence. And you wouldn’t have… wouldn’t have...”
It took a chime for the mage to let it out. All the emotion brought forth from an aspect of his soul he had forgotten about. His hands clung to her at during that time. The mere memory of it he required to explain almost broke his soul. Kelski was too much for him to lose. When he regained some of his breath he spoke with a voice on the edge of cracking. “You said he didn’t know that you can’t bond. ‘That its broken.’ Tell me that’s not true.” It was a plea. Kynier took his head from her chest and stared into her eyes again.
“Tell me it’s not true Kelski. Don’t tell me that you can’t… can’t bond. My soul feels torn asunder and you’re the only one that can make it whole again. So please,” ugly tears contorted his face as he forced the last words out, “please my love! Tell me that it’s not true!”
Boxcode credit goes to Gossamer!
