Page 45 of In Darkness Forged

“It’s lovely,” she murmured aloud, as the golden sparks twinkled and luminescent lichen lit the scene with a mesmerizing purple glow.

“Perhaps.” Talyn’s reply seemed stiff and uncomfortable.

“When it isn’t trying to kill me,” Aislin allowed. “But it is so different from anything I’ve seen before. I did not expect the night to be so beautiful.”

“It is not always beautiful,” Talyn pointed out. “Sometimes, it is merely cold and uncaring. Do not envy the night simply because it is different.”

“I can appreciate it without envying those who possess it,” she replied, not turning around. “Though that is not always true, sadly.”

The pause was long before he asked, “And who do you envy?”

Aislin took a moment to consider the question. She had never really envied those who lived in the great house on the hill. Fine clothes and fancy food were all very well, but they had no hold on her desires.

“I think I most envy those who need not fight for everything they have,” she admitted. “Those who have never questioned whether their basic necessities will be met. It is difficult to hold onto hope or even consider the possibility of joy when you are scrabbling simply to survive.”

“And what good is hope?” Talyn responded, a little bitterly. “An illusion, more often than not, formed of wishes and dreams that turn to vapor when you cling to them too closely.”

“When you don’t have hope, you die,” Aislin returned softly. “At least on the inside.”

“Yes.”

Such a bleak word.

His next words were so quiet, she wasn’t sure he meant for her to hear them. “But at least then, nothing can hurt you.”

“And do you envy anyone?” Aislin was half afraid that he would growl at her for the impertinence of daring to ask such a personal question, but he seemed not to care.

“Perhaps one day I will feel such things again.” His tone told her what his words did not—he did not expect that day to ever come. “But I have felt next to nothing since my sister’s death—nothing but the need to avenge her. There is no one else to bear that burden. No one else to care that her existence was so brutally cut short. When my entire life is bent on death, what need have I of any other feelings?”

Aislin almost couldn’t bear the thought of such a desolate existence. Of knowing that even if you failed, no one awaited word of your failure. Of standing alone, staring death in the face, simply because you were too driven to stop. At least she had her family to return to, and the hope of a better future if she managed to survive.

What did Talyn have to hope for?

There seemed to be nothing to say after that. Once their clothes were dry, they broke camp in silence, Aislin sliding the hatchet into her belt and waiting while Talyn smothered the flames and retrieved his pack.

“I intended to seek out the main entrance to the cave,” he said, not looking at her as he spoke. “But given that we are not the only ones hunting for the arantha nest, I suspect that would be unwise.”

“Rhone did not seem like the sort to delay us unfairly,” Aislin noted.

“Rhone is a wilding,” Talyn said grimly. “And he has been offered something nearly unheard of among night elves. His desire to succeed is likely as great as ours, and I doubt he will hesitate to remove us from contention if he can.”

Talyn leaped gracefully onto Cuan’s back and reached out his hand to Aislin. “We will stay close to the mountains and search for evidence of an unmapped entrance.”

Aislin put her hand in his and held her breath as he pulled her up to ride behind him once again. Somehow it was actually more awkward, not less, to find herself pressed so tightly against him after the confidences they’d shared.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, trying to maintain at least some distance between them. “I do not want to disturb your wound.”

“I will be considerably more disturbed if you fall off and end up lost in the dark,” Talyn said, his voice gruff but curiously devoid of actual annoyance. “Hold on.”

So she did. As Cuan moved off at a trot, she wrapped her arms around Talyn’s waist and tried to limit herself to the comfort of simply being close to another person. Of not feeling utterly alone.

It was not as easy as it should have been. It was almost too tempting to long for someone who would embrace her in return. To imagine a companion who welcomed her closeness instead of tolerating it as a necessary evil.

But allowing such dreams to take root would be unfair to both of them, so she focused instead on the sore muscles that insisted they couldn’t bear another night of riding. On the feeling of Cuan’s fur beneath her. And on the looming threat of the mountains breaking through the dark sea of forest. Did the moon make things appear bigger or smaller than they actually were? And did the size of the mountains matter when their true destination lay beneath those intimidating peaks?

They seemed to be traversing the shore of that strange sea, at the line where the trees broke against the mountains’ flank. Every so often, they would pause while Cuan sniffed the air. Talyn, too, would close his eyes, clearly searching for something.

It was during one of these pauses that his eyes suddenly snapped open with a fierce, amber glow behind them.

---