Page 43 of Of Blooming Embers
She nodded, letting the warm breeze tug at her strands while her eyes roamed over the mire. There was something about her, like the quiet before an approaching storm. It was that moment when the air stilled, and you could taste the thickness of it. Although the thunder had yet to roar, you could sense its silent rumble beneath your feet.
My eyes fixed on the doombarks. “How is it? Having your memories?” I asked, although I already knew how it was to remember what was better left erased. Word likely got around that I also had mine back, but to what extent, I wasn’t sure.
She pushed herself off the rope. “As is expected. Being a part of all this”—she waved one hand in a circle—“prepared me better than most. But it’s still quite the journey, isn’t it?”
Ah, so she knew I had mine as well.
“It’s a boon and a curse,” I agreed.
“It is.” She seized the railing; her thumb rubbed against the rough threads. “It’s sobering to feel the life drain from you … to know the breaths you’re taking might be your last.” She sucked in a quick inhale, her mouth parting. “Then they aren’t. And you can recall every bit of that frantic, desperate agony. It seems cruel … selfish somehow. To have wished so long to remember, only to want to go back to forgetting.”
My chest rose and fell in quick, shallow respirations. Her words dug into my own anxieties and recollections.
As if she understood precisely how I felt.
But she does.
A sad, humming sound of agreement left me, and she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. My hand flinched, itching to reach for hers. But I fisted the air, keeping my touch to myself. I didn’t know Caelora. Didn’t know if it would be an intrusion in such a raw moment.
“You want to know something awful?” she whispered, and I looked at her, waiting. Her chest expanded, and then she continued, “My mom died when I was young. And though I’d give anything to have her back, I’m … I’m grateful that her suffering was put to rest. I wasn’t able to admit that until now. And oddly, I have you to thank for that.”
A burning roiled just below my ribcage, understanding and griefitching under my skin. “I … I don’t know what to say to that except that I’m sorry. About your mother. Mine disappeared many turns ago, and I’m not sure if it gets easier. Rather, it’s more like a constant hum in the background of everyday life.”
Her head bobbed as she brushed her fingers over her hidden tattoo. “I like that. Thinking of her always with me. I feel her when I sing. When I hear a song that reminds me of home.” She dropped her right hand, but kept studying the skin of her left.
“I wouldn’t expect that rune was given out of the kindness of the Elders’ hearts,” I muttered.
With a soft exhalation, Caelora pushed her long hair behind her shoulders. “No truer words have ever been spoken. Take care, Seryn. I’m glad we talked.” Gently, her fingertips touched my wrist before her chin dipped. She moved past me like a wraith, her form disappearing into the bustle of the twilit city, shades of purple cloaking her despite her aura being tucked away.
17
UNWRITTEN HISTORY
SERYN
There was so much sifting through my mind. The encounter with Caelora both comforted and unsettled me. My thoughts and emotions were like sediment drifting into place behind each step. Reminding me of things that pained me, and things I needed to atone for.
Kaden.
Hesitantly, I unpacked what had happened with my best friend during the last Dormancy. A lump stuck in my throat, and I swallowed a few times while my gaze unfocused and wandered aimlessly. I couldn’t own his feelings, and I wasn’t ashamed of the intimacy we had shared.
Yet, I played a part in hastening things. I could blame naivete and the sense of urgency the Dormancy fostered, but that would be the easy way out.
Deep down, I’d sensed the intensity of Kaden’s affections, a silent current beneath the surface of our friendship, but I hadn’t wanted to accept it. I’d chosen to take things down the path we’d taken, knowingthat I didn’t reciprocate them. And for that, I was sorry. I hoped I’d get the chance if—no, Iwouldapologize …whenwe found my best friend.
As if a band had been loosened around my ribcage, my lungs expanded. My focus cleared, and a particularly verrucose toad came into view. He blinked at me slowly with his mouth gaping.
My eyes narrowed.Why are these little bastards so damn judgment?—
“Tea to go with your introspection?” Yaya’s voice poked through my thoughts.
Sticking my tongue out at the creature, I followed her up the winding stairs and into her home. A cozy fire sputtered in the hearth, and its warmth embraced me as I sat at her table.
She set the plain cups in front of me, taking the seat by my side. With a solemn expression, she poured a bit of lavender liquid into each. Lifting one eyebrow, I brought it to my nose. The scent wasn’t quite sweet, but it smelled of some type of fruit. “This isn’t tea,” I teased.
The older woman shrugged, taking a sip. “Did I say tea? I meant a nip of mireberry wine.”
I smirked, tasting the tart liquid as it tingled down my throat. My lips smacked together, eyes squinting. “I’d say just a nip will do ya.”
