Interlude - Reopened Scars
There is a distinct shift in the air in the weeks following Seliph's birth. Tensions with Chagall build the longer we're here, and yet, they might as well be worlds away. Even when Eldigan comes to discuss the recent troubles, there is at least an hour of just fussing over the baby. Altenna and Ares adore him, and all three cried pitifully when Altenna was finally escorted back to Leinster.
Sadly, those were only the first of tears to be shed. Not two days later, a messenger came from Grannvale.
I had never had so much of an urge to clock someone over the head. I also couldn't understand how a messenger, presumably someone who dealt with people a lot, could fail so completely in reading a room. I could only assume it was just that this messenger didn't have a single thought in their head.
...The healer in me screamed how unkind and unprofessional the thoughts were. The friend in me screamed that I was allowed to be unhappy and angry at a person who so very gleefully announced Isaach's fall, and the death of King Mariccle. The rest of me held onto my sense to grab Ayra by the arm and hold her back from hurting the messenger.
"I won't kill him," Ayra whispered. She glared at the ground so fiercely I had to checked the tiles didn't recoil from fear. The messenger was still happily explaining how King Mariccle had died, seared into oblivion by the Book of Naga, and how Isaach would be divided up and become a territory of Grannvale. "I won't."
"This makes sure that I also don't do something," I murmured, stepping a little closer. I glanced around and noticed how stiff Sigurd's smile was. He was the only one even pretending to wear one, but it wasn't as if the messenger had noticed. "Take a look at everyone."
"Why?"
"Just do it." I poked her side until she did, and then was treated with her wide-eyed shock as she saw what I did. Everyone in the army was tense and angry. Everyone here was ready to 'shoot the messenger'. Not far away, Azel was even having to hold back Lex, who looked darn ready to punch the messenger. "I do not know if that is a comfort…"
"...I am… gladdened that they do not take joy in it…" She bit her lip, and the shock began fading for tears. "I… Shanan… I need to…"
"You should deal with your own grief first." I tugged her from the room and into the hallway. Sigurd glanced at us worriedly, and subtly nodded. Deirdre gave us a sad smile, clinging to Sigurd's shirt. "Come on."
"But…" She followed me stiffly, her limbs just hanging. It was like she was a little doll, and had no idea what to do now. "Not even a body…" She bit her lip hard as we went into an alcove, her eyes filling with tears she stubbornly refused to shed. "He won't make it to the afterlife. His spirit will be confused."
"Will he?"
"There is no body for his spirit to see and recognize his passing. He'll be trapped in the realm of the living, unable to move on." She began shaking, and pulled her arm from me to hug herself. "He didn't want a war. He didn't. He fought because the people… because our father…"
"Do you want to tell Sigurd?"
"No… no, I want him to stay out of other people's business so that his son will have his father…" Her voice cracked. "Shanan. I need to…"
Footsteps made us both look up, and I was only half-surprised to see Lex standing nearby. He did not enter the alcove. Instead, he just… stood there, meeting Ayra's tearful gaze calmly. It was a silent offer. 'What do you need?' I knew, just by looking at his calm, serious face, that he'd willingly take on any anger she needed to unleash, any insults. She surely had a lot, and Ayra was the type to lash out. So, it was a surprise to us both when Ayra took that offer… to throw herself at him and begin sobbing. He wrapped his arms around her automatically, looking a little confused, but also a little happy. He held her close as she cried bitter tears, and even when she did begin with the insults, there was no heat to them. They were just words that flailed and drowned in the tears.
I lingered for a moment, just in case I was needed, before leaving, deciding to just let Lex handle Ayra for now. I checked back into the Great Hall, where Sigurd had changed the subject to the 'safer' topic of who had survived, and then hunted for Shanan. He had run off very quickly into the message, and I had a feeling I knew exactly where he'd gone.
Two second later, I entered Seliph's play room and found Shanan there, leaning over Seliph's cradle and half-heartedly dangling the stuffed bear for him. Seliph seemed to know something was wrong, though, as while he did reach for the bear, he also reached for Shanan's hand, patting it.
"Shanan," I called softly. He stiffened and turned slowly to face me. There were no tears in his eyes. Unlike Ayra, it seemed to not be due to stubbornness, but simply too deep a grief. "Hey."
"H-hi…" he replied. His voice trembled, and was thick with the tears that would not show. "I…"
"I know." I walked inside, but waited for him to come to me. He did after a moment, taking the bear with him to make sure it didn't fall on Seliph. Seliph made a whining noise in protest, but surprisingly didn't cry. "Maybe I should've gotten you one too."
"No, I like the necklace and swords better." He leaned into me, and I gently hugged him, stroking his hair. "...He was happy. That man was happy my father was dead."
"He's a fool."
"It hurts."
"I know."
"I thought I was ready. I thought it scarred and I was getting better."
"I know."
"My home is gone."
"For now. You can get it back."
"...Yeah…" He tilted his head up to look at me. His eyes wavered, like he was about to cry, but the tears hadn't made it yet. "Yeah, when I'm older… when I'm older, I can negotiate, right? Like Jamke? To…"
"Yes, I think so." I smiled at him. "When we go back to Grannvale, I know Sigurd will help you. He'll get a personal audience with Prince Kurth, just for you."
"Because Prince Kurth… is a good person, right? Even though he killed my dad, he's a good person. War makes good people kill good people, but it doesn't mean..."
My heart broke for how wise he sounded. He was still a child… "He is, though like all people, he is prone to mistakes. But I promise that he will listen, to both you and Sigurd." I knew he'd listen to Ayra too, and there was a chance this could spark that civil war that had been brewing. But Shanan would be fine. We'd all make sure of it. "For now, though…" I poked Shanan's cheek, and smiled when he made a face. "Why not continue to play with Seliph? You were doing that earlier."
"...Yeah, he makes me smile." Shanan's smile widened, and left my side to return to the cradle. This time, though, he lifted Seliph out and sat down, settling Seliph on his lap. "Yeah, I'll do that."
"Okay." I hesitated before deciding that I couldn't hover. I could support, but hovering would be the worst thing for him. "Will you be okay while I make sure no one fought?"
"I think so." A couple of tears finally slipped down Shanan's face, but he kept up the smile. Seliph reached up and patted his cheeks, looking at the tears weirdly. "Thanks."
"Always, Shanan." I leaned down to kiss his forehead and stepped out of the room, walking down the hall as quickly as possible.
Then, to my surprise, I turned the corner to head for the Great Hall and literally ran into Sigurd. It took both of us a second to recover.
"Alicia!" Sigurd smiled, but that didn't hide the unease in his eyes. He looked drained and tired. "Do you know where Shanan is?" he asked. He ran a hand through his messy hair, and I chose not to ask about the messenger. "I've been trying to find him, but-"
"Seliph's playroom," I answered. I pointed down the hall and smiled. "He's playing with Seliph to cheer himself up."
"Oh." Sigurd's smile softened with relief. "Think it's a good idea to-"
"Go give him a darn hug, will you? He needs it."
"On it." He winked and headed down the hall, knocking on the door and waiting for Shanan's reply before going inside. I was reminded of when we first met Shanan, and knew that Sigurd's kindness would, once again, help Shanan take those first steps past his pain.
So I shook my head and went instead to find Oifeye and Finn. What Shanan would need was friends, and I'd make sure he was surrounded by them. Then, I'd do my part as Ayra's friend to ensure she was going to make it through the day.
Lachesis and I could tag-team. We'd make it fun.
We spent the day in quiet 'celebration', really just doing some fun things for Ayra and Shanan to help them not feel so alone. I spent most of the day with Ayra, even learning how to play some card games thanks to Lachesis. I ended up being rather good at it, mostly because I had a good 'poker face'. Afterwards, we had a quiet dinner with some of Ayra and Shanan's favorite dishes from Augustria, and then we all headed for bed. I offered to stay up with Ayra and Shanan, but both of them refused. Ayra was just going straight to bed, while Shanan was having a little slumber party with Oifeye and Finn. So, instead, I just went to the room I shared with Chulainn and fell asleep very quickly.
However, my rather dreamless sleep was interrupted by some movement at my side. I opened my eyes slowly and yawned, pushing myself up slightly as my groggy mind tried to register what had woken me up. It didn't take me long, however, to see Chulainn sitting up, breathing heavily as he leaned forward, his hand half-hiding his face. I reached up to touch his shoulder, bare since he slept shirtless, and noticed he was both cold and sweaty. That gave me my answer, even before he turned to look at me with pained, fearful eyes.
"Did you have another nightmare?" I asked gently, smiling softly. It wasn't uncommon for him to have nightmares, mostly of past battles and events. He always tried to keep quiet about it, but sometimes, they were just bad enough that he accidentally woke me. It didn't help that I was a light sleeper. "Would you like some tea?"
"No, I'm fine," he whispered. His voice was almost too soft to hear, but he slowly relaxed as I rested my hand on his cheek. "Just… agitated."
"Was it a particularly bad one tonight?"
"...Yeah…" He sighed and leaned into my touch. "That's one way to put it."
"I see." I shifted a little closer. He immediately snuck an arm around my waist, and practically pulled me into his lap to hug me. He shook underneath my hands when I rested them on his shoulders. "Did something happen today to make you think on… whatever it was?"
"Yeah…" He held me a little more tightly. "Yeah."
"Was it Shanan? You spent a lot of time with him today."
"I thought a sword lesson would help distract him. I was right." I knew he was. Shanan had been beaming throughout the whole thing. "But, I suppose, in a way, it did. And hearing of Mariccle's death…"
"Oh?" I glanced down at him, curious, but not quite sure how to ask. Chulainn didn't like talking of his past, and I didn't want to force him, especially since it gave him nightmares.
"Mhmm…" He let go of me slowly and let me shift to sit beside him. He took my right hand and brought it up, studying my Vala Holy Mark. His fingers actually traced over the design, following the swirls slowly and gently. It was enough to make me shiver, and a pleasant bit of warmth flood me. "Alicia?"
"Yes?" I smiled up at him, doing my best to appear as reassuring as I could. "What is it?"
He hesitated and then let go of my arm, not saying a word. Before I had time to be disappointed, he shifted to pull his left leg to his chest, and rolled up his pant leg. I almost asked what he was doing, but then I discovered it instantly. On his lower left leg, wrapping around from his ankle to his knee, was a Holy Mark, the same color as Ayra's and Shanan's.
I reached out to touch the mark, feeling where faint scars suddenly stopped short of the mark, only to 'reappear' on the other side. I felt how smooth and warmth it was, felt the slight 'buzz' of power to it, proving it was a true mark and not some fancy tattoo. The Mark of Odo… But I also knew Ayra had no other siblings. She would've said that, by now.
So, I sat back on my heels, and looked at him, waiting for his explanation. His expression was blank, but not his 'normal blank'. He was not trying to hide, and he was not trying to remember. He was simply trying to think of how to begin.
Finally, though, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and murmured, "my name… was once Holyn of Sophara."
That simple sentence broke the dam. He told me everything. He told me of the days where he'd play with Ayra and trained with Mariccle, thinking that life would never be different and being content in it. He told me of the nobleman who betrayed his family, killing his mother and younger siblings right in front of him. He told me of how his father fought, but fell when the nobleman's people used him as a hostage. He told me of how he'd been a slave to his family's killers until the Isaachian Royals came to liberate the city. He told me of how one of the nobleman's people had stolen away with him, only to discard him on the streets when he couldn't get a ransom. He told me of killing a dog over a piece of molded, stale bread, and being thrown into the arena, because a nobleman felt that dog held more worth than him. He told me of the horrible first days, years, of being a child gladiator, bound to the will of someone else. He told me of buying his freedom and becoming a mercenary. He told me of those first jobs that would always haunt him. He told me everything.
"I thought it was gone," he whispered when he got to the end. At some point, he had begun crying, and I had gathered him into my arms, and let him cry into my chest, stroking his back and hair. "I thought I didn't care about it anymore. Sophara's gone. My family is gone. Holyn of Sophara died with his family, and I was just… the boy. The slave. Chulainn. I made a new name from it…"
"But the scars throb," I murmured, kissing the top of his head. He only curled more into me and continued to sob. "They've reopened."
"I didn't think it could hurt again. I didn't think…"
"...I love you." I continued to hold him, not knowing what else to say. All I could do was hold him as he held me, trying to give him the same sense of safety and comfort that he gave me.
The slightly broken, but genuine, smile he eventually gave me, wobbling from the tears he still cried, told me I succeeded. I leaned in and kissed his cheeks, taking away the tears, and moved to wrap him up in another hug. Instead, when I pulled back, he leaned in and kissed me on the mouth, gentle and hesitant. I returned it shyly, feeling my face flush when we parted, and when we broke apart, I kissed him again.
I'd never really thought our first 'true' kiss would taste of salt and tears, but somehow, it just felt right. It felt as right as lying there in his arms, running my hand through his hair as he slowly fell back asleep, curled up so that his ear was pressed against my chest, where he could hear my heartbeat.
It was enough for me. If all my days could end like this, I would be happy until the day I died.
Author's note: 'Holyn' was the fan-translated name for Chulainn. Considering that Ayra does actually know Chulainn (but has forgotten him/his face), I figured I'd add a little more to it by also having Chulainn's 'birth name' be 'Holyn', kinda like how Cu Chulainn (Chulainn's namesake) was born Setana. Chulainn originally being the 'prince of Sophara' is only revealed in his Chapter 5 lover conversation with Ayra.
Next Chapter - Thunderclouds
