Page 90 of The Dark Mage
The silence between them returned, thick but no longer oppressive.The sun heated Ren’wyn’s neck, and she adjusted her cloak to shield her skin, wishing she could get to her aspen bark powder for sunscreen.
“I never changed my mind,” Esrin eventually said, his voice and presence slightly closer.“I never changed my mind.I ached for you every single day, wishing I could save you but knowing I had nothing to offer.”
“You offered a home to the rest of your group,” she challenged.
His voice was pained.“I did, yes.But I underestimated your strength.”
“So did I,” she mused.
The rest of the ride passed more companionably.They entered the forest, the shade a blissful relief after the heat of the openroad.
At the camp, Esrin dismounted before placing his hands on Ren’wyn’s waist to help her down.They were suddenly too close for comfort, their breath mingling for a tense moment.
Ren’wyn stepped aside, breaking the spell.Turning back to him, she whispered, her eyes glistening with tears, “I never meant to hurt you.I would never want to hurt you.You are my dear friend.”
She didn’t wait for a reply.Intent on setting up her tent, she headed towardLeta.
They were the first group to arrive at the camp, though Miguel had met Leta earlier and helped choose a spot.Avonlee, Wilenrut, and Relya’s group joined them by evening.
“Looks like a good spot, Leta,” Miguel teased.
Ren’wyn knew he had helped her pick the location, set up the preliminary perimeter, and clear the ground before heading out for the first watch.Leta rolled her eyes but chuckled.
“I have excellent taste,” she replied lightly.
Relya and Avonlee immediately set to airing out and arranging tents, while Wilenrut and Ren’wyn collected and organized the weapons.Ren’wyn took a moment to unpack her belongings in the tent she shared with Fael, smoothing her cloak over the cot and clearing a spot for his bag in the corner.
When two days passed without word of Sorya’s group or Fael, concern began to spread.Leta rode to Lipo daily, searching the town and surrounding farmlands, hoping to come across them on one of the roads.Each evening, she returned with exhaustion etched into her face, and the camp grew quieter with every passinghour.
Ren’wyn struggled to sleep.Nightmares haunted her—visions of Fael lying lifeless on the roadside.She often woke in the suffocating dark, her mind conjuring his pale corpse.Her chest tightened, nausea surged, and her breaths grew shallow and ragged.But there was no Fael to reassure or groundher.
Trying to breathe, she swung her feet to the floor, gripping the cot’s edges, desperate to steady herself.She inhaled in gasps, tears leaking past her eyelids as panic overwhelmedher.
A faint flicker of light appeared at the tent door.For a moment, she believed it was Fael.She cried out, only for Avonlee’s soft voice to pierce the darkness.
“I struggle with panic attacks too,” Avonlee whispered.“Keep breathing, Ren’wyn.”
How had she heard her?Had her magic spilled outward?
“Feel the ground beneath you,” Avonlee urged gently.“You are here, and you are free.We will face the future with the morning.”
Avonlee continued speaking softly, and her tiny hand pressed into the middle of Ren’wyn’sback.
Ren’wyn sobbed then, releasing her grip on the cot and leaning into her feet.She finally felt the air entering her lungs.Muscle by muscle, her body relaxed as Avonlee stayed by her side in silent solidarity.
When Ren’wyn’s breathing steadied, Avonlee rose quietly and left.Ren’wyn lay back down, grateful for the kindness of this quiet woman, and drifted back into broken sleep.
The next day, she found herself distracted and easily frustrated.Relya was the same, wandering aimlessly and forgetting the tasks Esrin assigned.Leta and Miguel sparred listlessly, their movements unfocused.Even Esrin seemed scattered.Meals were quiet, concern hanging over the group.Plates were left half-full; no one had much of an appetite.
On the third morning, the sun rose bright and clear, but Relya admitted to Ren’wyn that they had only experienced such an absence once before.That time, the missing pair had been exposed and executed during their journey.
Ren’wyn couldn’t speak.She left the circle, retreating behind the tents to vomit.Then she returned to her tent and curled up on her cot under her cloak.When she looked at the silver ghost pipes on the clasp, the sight broke something inside her, and a flood of grief overtookher.
She wept until she was gasping, clutching the clasp tightly, the metallic flowers cool against her palm.The wave of tears finally subsided, leaving only hollowness and exhaustion behind, but the sound of packing outside had her up and leaving thetent.
Esrin stood saddling his horse with fierce determination.His movements betrayed his furious energy, as did the strange vibration of the soil around hisfeet.
“Have you heard something?”Ren’wyn asked, hope and horror warring in her throat.
