Page 19 of Fear the Flames
ChapterNine
Pots and dishes clang together as Nyrinn tries to find the serving dish she insists we use. The past four days have been a whirlwind of packing, organizing a group to escort me to the temple, and drafting a raid schedule and ration plan to ensure everyone will have enough food for the next few months. Part of me was too scared to dream a day like today would come...it’s odd to be scared to dream, but they have power. Dreams have the power to guide us out of our darkest moments, offering nothing more than the comfort of hope, but dreams also have the power to break us.
Nyrinn caught me while walking home last night to make plans to see me before I leave. She’s always so busy with healing people that I only planned on stopping by, but she pushed back the opening of her shop today so we could spend some time together without shoving needles into people with blood smeared on our foreheads like we usually do. She taught me everything I know about healing and gave me helpful gardening tips whenever she could.
Her shop, along with every other shop and cart in Aestilian, is made of brown wood. But she and I painted her shutters bright yellow to frame her window beds. The scent of lavender and chamomile linger in the breeze whenever you walk past. My favorite part of her shop is the several bouquets of dried herbs and flowers that hang from her ceiling. It makes it feel like an enchanted forest, like I’ll catch a fairy flying between the petals. There was always something pretty to look at whenever I was up to my elbows in blood, sticking a needle into flesh.
Nyrinn flicks her short raven braid over her shoulder while setting a tray of pears and berries on the table. The sweet scent of fruit mixes with the rosemary that wafts through the air. Rosemary and yarrow are the two herbs we use most, and the scent usually lingers on my hands for days, not that I mind.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do without you here,” Nyrinn sighs while taking the chair across from me and popping a berry in her mouth.
I groan, “You know I feel guilty.”
“I’m joking,” she laughs. “I imagine several others are succeeding in their attempt to make you feel that way.” She looks me over with calculating eyes, and the pear juice turns sour in my mouth. “Idiots, the lot of them,” she adds when I don’t respond. Part of the reason I love talking to her is because she’s so unapologetic with her opinions, never failing to supply them. It makes me feel like I can talk without tiptoeing.
“I think everyone got comfortable with the idea of me staying here forever,” I say, not disagreeing with her.
“That’s their own fault. You never chose to come here; you had to come here. It’s your choice if you want to leave. I, for one, am excited to hear about you taking on the courts.” Satisfaction grips me at her words. The news about the alliance spread through Aestilian faster than a plague. I could tell most people were excited about the guaranteed food supply, but I also caught a lingering sense of fear. The Queen of Aestilian must leave Aestilian to keep it safe, it doesn’t make sense, and yet it makes perfect sense.
“Who was it you met in the forest?” Nyrinn asks. “I’ve only heard bits and pieces.”
My throat tightens at the mention of him, “The Commander of Vareveth, Cayden Veles.” I take a sip of tea to relax my throat muscles. “Have you heard anything about him?” It feels weird to talk about Cayden. In some parts of my mind, everything feels like a hallucination. I don’t think it will feel real until I leave tonight.
“Not much,” she purses her lips, emphasizing her cupid’s bow. Nyrinn is the best person to ask about any information I don’t have. She comes off as harsh to some but transforms into something entirely different while healing. “We don’t get a lot of people from Vareveth, as you know. Most come from Feynadra or Urasos,” she frowns while naming the last kingdom; it’s where she’s from. Magic is frowned upon in some kingdoms; some people think that you’re invoking the god’s wrath if you use magic by pretending to be a god. Nyrinn never used magic while healing; she was just too skilled for her village to wrap their heads around. Even her former fiancé didn’t say anything when they banished her. He just went along with everyone else. Ever since then, she’s been on a self-imposed man hiatus. Her raven hair reached her hips when she first got here, but I helped her cut it to her shoulders after she told me it was her fiancé’s favorite feature she had.
His favorite feature should have been her mind.
She told me his name when she was deep in her cups one night but made me swear not to hurt him. I didn’t. But I did go to his house, steal several valuables, and trade them for new healing supplies and some clothes for Nyrinn since she left all her supplies and most of her clothes behind.
“It’s fine, I was only curious,” I say while placing the mug back on the table.
Recollection clears her features, and anticipation slides through me. “When I was stitching someone’s head…maybe a year ago, they were quite talkative. I kept inquiring for more information since I know it helps you out,” she winks a dark brown iris in my direction. “They said Commander Veles is…cold, harsh, maybe even reserved. I don’t remember the conversation fully because I didn’t think it was important. He just seems like the person whose bad side is the last place you want to be.”
“Hm,” I muse while drumming my fingers on the table. Those aren’t the first words I would use to describe him; arrogant, cunning,handsome. Thank the gods the mug is back on the table, or else I would have spilled it. I want to smack myself when the last word flashes in my mind. Fine, he’s handsome, but he’s still so damn annoying. “Did they say if he was cruel or unfair?”
“Not that I recall,” she replies, taking a sip from her mug. “Though I imagine a man like that would be to his enemies. Perhaps the two of you have something in common,” she points out while getting up from the table. “Let’s finish this outside.” She doesn’t wait for me to rise before slipping out of the back door. Perhaps Cayden and I do have something in common. Would that be so bad? It just makes us a better pair. I stand from the table, ignoring my inner turmoil; it won’t kill me to ignore it this once.
Nyrinn is already stretched across one of the patio chairs, her face upturned toward the sun, illuminating her deep brown skin and amplifying the golden hue. The steady rush of the Syssa Falls draws my eyes to the lake. It’s where I spend most of my mornings in the summer before everyone else gets there. I wake up early enough so it’s just me and nature, no obligations, no hassle. Finnian and I taught ourselves how to swim by trial and error in that lake. One of us got in the lake while the other stayed on dry land and held the rope that was tied around the swimmer’s torso. If we went under for too long, the person on land would use the rope to drag the swimmer to shore. Foolproof. I mean, it got the job done with the bonus of severe rope burn.
“You better not trust their healers or court physicians,” Nyrinn remarks while I take a seat on the chair next to her. “I trained you better than any of them.”
I laugh softly, “Do you honestly think I would let any of them give me a tonic? I don’t even ask you.”
“Fair point.” She taps a long finger against her cheek, “I wonder when you’ll stop feeling guilty for asking for things.”
“When I stop having to ask for things,” I answer.
She bends forward while giggling and reaches under her chair, “Good thing you didn’t have toaskfor this then.” She tosses a dark leather satchel into my lap. My hands pause in the air, and I blink down at the satchel.
“I didn’t get you anything,” I say slowly, already feeling guilty.
“I didn’t want you to. Go on, open it,” she prods.
I lower my hands, running my fingers against the supple material, unlacing the string from around the button, and flipping the flap open. My jaw drops when I take in the contents; several fresh herbs, even more dried herbs, new bandages, stitching needles, string, disinfectant, tonics, and salves. My heart sputters at the gesture. A strong sense of appreciation and gratitude weaves inside of me. Her snort of laughter breaks me out of my shocked state.
“Nyrinn,” I say while shaking my head, “how did you get all this? You should keep it.”
“Absolutely not.” She reaches her hand over and encloses it over mine, “I called in a favor with one of the guards, they went out and got it for me two days ago.” I can’t restrain the broad smile that spreads across my face, but it falls slightly when I realize how much I’ll miss her. I would take her with me if she had plans to leave Aestilian, but she has told me before that her shop gives her a sense of pride that nothing else could.
