Page 11 of Awariye

He shook his head, drinking more. "No, it's all right, thank you. Just a random one, nothing to process. Probably because my mental guards are down when I'm under the influence of these medicines and my body is so focused on healing."

I nodded agreement, then waited him out when he looked like he was deliberating on something.

"Igor," he said finally, looking me straight in the eyes. "Why are you being so kind to me?"

My heart jumped into my throat. "Is this all right? I don't mean to make you uncomfortable. I don't know how much you remember; sometimes you're foggy and you repeat things. Wren offered to stay with you, but Ulbrecht was against it. He worried you might pull life force from Wren, so I offered since I'm big and strong as we all know."

I left out the part how attracted I was to him, how his beauty and the gentle heart that shone through even during his illness made me want to stay close and help him regain his strength.

That made him giggle and popped the tension. "I remember that much. At the moment I'm thinking clearly. This medicine seems to be working, but I hate that it messes with my cognition."

"At least it's working; you've really improved," I concurred, relieved as he grew stronger by the day.

Awariye nodded. "If I make it through this and recover my health, then I'll know why. At the monastery, we study the western concept of the higher soul, which is one's immortal soul that survives from life to life. We do magical practices that work to bring the lower self, the human incarnate, and the higher soul together. I know mine is close when I sing, especially ever since the instructors at the monastery taught me how to use magic and spiritual force to sing up the planes and to the gods."

"You think your higher soul wants you to keep living so you can continue to sing," I surmised.

Awariye slurped the last bit and handed me the empty cup as proof. Rather than letting him off the hook after the medicinal tea, I then poured him a cup of wine mixed with more herbs. He sent me a look, clearly not wanting to keep drinking, but he took the cup and didn't argue, knowing these orders came from the doctor and not from me. After this would be a drink of water, then he could sleep. And when next his bladder woke him, we'd get up and do this again.

"It'll clearly be a sign that I'm to sing through this lifetime, even with my spent vocal cords. I can't remember if I've told you, but the reason I wound up in this mess is because I was foregoing work to spare myself, after singing my whole life and getting my throat into a state where I'm now in pain if I push it. I might have nodes on my vocal cords, which will only get worse if I'm not careful."

That broke my heart. "You said something along those lines, but not that much detail. Now I understand. Thank you for telling me."

He leaned against me, and I leaned back, like we were friends sitting together at a tavern in town, having some drinks and a chat. I wanted to be that friend to him, wanted to mean something to him. I already knew he meant something very special to me.

"So that's what I'll do," he said. "I'll keep singing. I don't envy my future incarnation either, as a woman in a dark age. Our tradition holds that we go back and forth, alternating male-female between lives. To be a woman whose higher soul wishes for her to sing her entire life will require a constant struggle to maintain her safety. I don't remember my parents much from the traveling theater group I grew up in, but it clearly wasn't easy, and we lived in poverty."

"If I'm a woman next time, then I hope the Danubian king has an archer's league that takes females," I said.

"To be fair, a warrior's soul might not adhere to the alternating genders premise, or your lives spent as a woman in between fighting might be for the sake of getting a break before you head back into battle."

A woman's life was hardly a break, but I nodded that I was following him.

Awariye drooped next to me. "I'm fading again, but I want to keep talking to you. I know I've asked you before—it's on the edge of my memory—but you don't have a lover, right? I'm not sleeping in bed with you and dreaming about you when you have a woman or a man out there waiting for you, am I?"

"Nein," I confirmed. "I told you about Kristoff before, but it was while you were so disoriented from the medicine. He was my best friend, my lover, and my shield mate. He died a couple of years ago in battle, and he is the reason I now believe in the Unseen. You offered to help me learn how to pray, to connect to the gods he believed in. But I haven't had anyone since then. I believe he would want me to, and I've wanted to, but I haven't found anyone yet."

"I remember now, yes. I'm so sorry about Kristoff."

"It's all right. And you?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Bards can't afford families, not unless they strike it lucky and land a generous patron. I've never wanted a wife and children. I'm gay, like Wren. Had a couple of quick affairs while training at the monastery, but nothing ever stuck. Flings, sure, but not partners."

I wanted to try something with him. I wanted him to stay the winter, but all of that could wait. First he had to recover, so we could have more of these conversations, and so I could confirm that he was remembering them around the medication.

One last trip to the lavatory and then we piled into bed again. I lay on my back and my chest ached with longing when he so easily curled against me and dropped off. I lay awake a while, just listening to him breathe, praying to the empty room that his beautiful light would remain in this world.

CHAPTEREIGHT

AWARIYE

Ipassed in and out of consciousness. Countless times I remembered waking in pain only to realize it was just my bladder screeching at me. Igor helped me get up and each time he insisted I drink the glass that was prepared for me by Ingeborg and Wren all the way down.

"I know," I croaked, my throat parched even though I felt like all I was doing was drinking, pissing, and sleeping. "I remember."

"That's good," said Igor; even in the candlelight his eyes were bright with hope. "I've been having to remind you, but if you remember now, that's a sign you're getting better."

I drank down the medicinal tea, recognizing not just the handful of herbs, but Wren's life force also, a golden glitter that tasted like the sugar crystals on top of a pie, crunchy and sweet. I felt like garbage still, but I did feel a bit better. Slightly less potent garbage was definitely a good sign.

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