Page 18 of A Kingdom's Heart
The second came from my right. I turned and caught his wrist before he could strike, twisting until he cried out. My sword hilt met his ribs, and he staggered back, gasping.
For a moment, both of them stared at me, eyes wide, breath ragged. Then they turned and bolted into the trees, crashing through the undergrowth until the sound of them was gone.
Cowards.
I stood still for a long moment, the night spinning softly around me. My shoulder burned with every heartbeat, blood running warm down my back. I pressed my hand to the wound. My palm came away red.
The sight steadied me more than it frightened me. Pain meant I was still here. Still standing.
I turned toward the castle. The lights in the distance flickered through the mist, gold against the dark. They looked farther than they should have.
I could still move.
Slowly, I bent to pick up my chestplate, tucking it under one arm.
I started walking again, one careful step after another. Every movement sent a pulse of fire through my shoulder, but the rhythm of my steps helped keep me upright.
I fixed my eyes on the lights ahead. Each step felt heavier than the last, yet the quiet steadied me.
I just needed to reach the walls. After that, I would rest.
CHAPTER SEVEN
IRIS
My white robe was dusted gray, and the headband that kept my hair back had lost its shape hours ago. My hands ached from work, and my shoulders felt heavy. The healer’s wing was quiet now, lit only by the soft glow of a few oil lamps. The smell of herbs lingered in the air, sharp and clean.
I let out a long sigh. “Raven, it’s dark already. Can I leave now?”
She looked up from the table she was wiping and shook her head. “Not yet. We still need to clean the instruments. You know how the captain gets if he finds so much as a spot on them.”
I groaned under my breath but nodded. “Fine.”
Together we moved through the room, setting things in order. The metal trays clinked softly as we stacked them. Dust caught the lamplight while we wiped the shelves. My arms felt like lead, but the work went faster with Raven beside me.
When I reached for the top shelf, my sleeve slipped back, and I caught sight of the hawk of Valebran stitched into the robe. The silver thread had dulled over time, but the shape was still clear.
I glanced at Raven. She was focused on a jar of dried sage, her expression calm and distant. I knew her story. Everyone did. She had come from Valebran when she was sixteen, after the man she loved had broken her heart so completely she had left her home
behind.
I hesitated before speaking. “Do you ever miss it?”
She paused mid-motion, her fingers resting lightly on the edge of the shelf. For a moment she said nothing, her gaze fixed on the glass jars lined neatly before her. Then a small, thoughtful smile touched her lips.
“Sometimes,” she said quietly. “It was beautiful there. Warm, full of music and light. The kind of place where you never thought anything bad could happen.”
Her voice softened. “But memories like that hurt after a while, so I stopped holding onto them.”
I watched her closely. The light caught her dark hair, turning it almost bronze. There was peace in her face, but something else too. Something like loss, worn smooth by time.
“But you are happy here, right?” I asked. The question sounded smaller than I meant it to, as if I were asking for both of us.
Raven turned to me, her smile softening. “Oh, of course I am.
Happier than I ever thought I would be.”
Her tone was warm, but I could hear the faint edge of the weariness beneath it, the kind that comes from making peace with what cannot be changed.
