"Kivan?"
Allesyn tapped lightly at the heavy inn room door one more time. She heard the faint shuffling coming from the bed inside. Finally, a voice answered her.
"Allesyn." The sound of her name was weak, almost a plea. She pushed the door open and went inside.
The morning sun barely filtered into the gloom between the dirty curtains. Darkness seemed to creep in the very corners, waiting to pounce on the man seated on the edge of the bed.
Kivan remained unmoving as Allesyn stepped into view before him. An earthen bowl filled with charcoal and green paint lay untouched in his lap.
"Kivan?" Allesyn repeated, letting the concern show in her voice.
Kivan did not look at her, keeping his dark eyes on the floor. Seeing and not seeing.
After a long moment, the elven ranger spoke, his voice just above a whisper.
"Mellonamin, am I… am I doing the right thing?"
Allesyn considered the question. She looked at the dressed where a small cloth bag rested. So unassuming it was, yet inside was the source of her dear friend's woe.
Tazok's heart.
An evil, damned thing to keep so close and yet Kivan kept it, to assure himself of Tazok's destruction. To earn Deheriana's forgiveness.
Allesyn had watched helplessly the past few weeks as it tormented Kivan's mind just as Tazok had done to Kivan's body fifteen years ago. All she could do for the elf was offer her shoulder to lean on. Her shoulder and the truth.
"No, Kivan."
He looked up at her.
"No. I do not think you are doing the right thing."
His gaze slid back to the floor. "I thank you for your honesty," he murmured.
Allesyn's heart ached. As the old adage goes, the truth hurts, but why did it have to hurt the man she loved?
The man who could never love her in return.
She shook her head, chasing away the depressing thought, another sad truth.
"I would rather give you comfort than honesty."
"You are a comfort to me, Allesyn. More than you know."
The last statement was so quiet Allesyn was not even sure she heard it. She kneeled in front of Kivan, forcing him to look at her.
"Please get rid of it, Kivan. I fear for your soul."
"I… cannot. This is my proof of vengeance fulfilled. My offering to Shevarash."
Kivan looked directly into Allesyn's eyes, his black eyes holding her gaze. "My need for revenge gives me the strength to go on." The words seemed to choke his throat.
Allesyn dipped her fingers into the bowl on his lap. Carefully, she drew her fingers down Kivan's forehead, stopping just above the brow. Then, a line extending diagonally over each eye.
An arrow.
She retrieved more paint from the bowl and drew the symbol of Shevarash on Kivan's chin.
The god of vengeance.
Her painting complete, Allesyn rocked back on her feet to fully view the elf. Kivan seemed to gather a little bit of strength then. The war paint was his mask, all of his pain and sorrow behind it.
"We have much to attend to, mellonamin," he said, rising to his feet.
"That we do," Allesyn agreed. "At least we face it together."
Kivan managed a small half smile. He gathered his bow and quiver and other items about the room. Before he stepped outside, he paused and laid one calloused hand on Allesyn's shoulder.
"Diola lle." Thank you.
"Always."
Together they walked out into the sun, a new day of trials, ordeals and blood awaiting them.