Chapter 6

Nathel gazed into the flickering embers of the fire, his mind again on the past. On the Searing. And on how he hadn't been there for Gwen when it happened. She sat with him now, her head on his shoulder and her hand still very much in his. The soft touch of her fingers made gathering his thoughts difficult. But somehow, he did. "Gwen... I told you earlier that I was thinking of leaving, of heading back south. But now... now I'm not so sure."

"Really?" she said, lifting her head up to look at him.

"All my life, for as long as I can remember, I've been on the move, always going from one place to another, one battle to another, with barely a breath in between. I always felt restless if I was in one place for too long. Until... until I came here. I don't know why, but... for the first time, I feel like I've found a place where I can settle down. I feel like I've come home."

Gwen squeezed his hand. "So what's wrong? Why did you want to leave?"

"Ever since you told me what happened to you after the Searing," Nathel explained. "I... I've felt responsible somehow. If I had been there, if I hadn't left so soon that day, I could have kept the Charr from capturing you. I could have saved you, Gwen."

"How? How could you have known? How could any of us have known? We had no idea that everything we knew and loved was about to be destroyed. You had your duty, Nathel, and even as a child, I understood that. I don't blame you for what happened. I never did. And I don't want you to blame yourself, either. I don't want you to leave because you think you hurt me. You didn't. It was the Charr who did that, not you."

Nathel sighed. "But if I had been with you, they wouldn't have."

"Enough!" Gwen reached up, took his jaw, and turn him to face her. "It wasn't your fault, Nathel. Stop punishing yourself. Don't you remember what my mother told me? You can't fix the past, and if you try you'll only make things worse for yourself. What matters is today, and the future. Don't lose yourself in what might have been."

Was she right? Nathel wanted to believe her. But something still nagged at him, a lingering sense of regret that would not leave. He had made so many mistakes over the years, things he wished he'd have done differently. And every victory he had won had been paid for in blood, bought with the lives of too many good friends. It had always been a heavy burden within him, but seeing Gwen again after so many years had only made it worse. Because it had all begun with her.

Had it, though? Had it really?

Nathel gazed into the fire, knowing the answer all too well. "It was never about you, Gwen. Not really."

"What do you mean?" she asked, letting her hand fall back down.

"It was about Alanna. I was right there, but I wasn't able to save her. I lost my sister that day. But then I met you a few years later, and I... I felt like I had found her again, in you. Like I had been given a second chance. Only... the Searing hit, and..."

Gwen nodded. "You felt like you lost another sister."

"That's right," Nathel said. "I felt like I let it happen all over again. During those first few years after the Searing, I nearly went back to how I was after I lost Alanna. All I wanted to do was murder every Charr I could find. So I volunteered for patrols and raids all the time. But no matter how many Charr I killed, it didn't bring her back. Or you. And it didn't make the pain I felt any easier to bear. So I... I just buried it and went on with my life. Until..."

"Until you came here, and we saw each other again. It brought it all back, didn't it?"

Nathel nodded. "It did, yeah. It's my fault she died, Gwen."

"You were a child, Nathel," Gwen said. "Hardly older than I was when we first met. You couldn't have done any more for her than you did."

"I suppose you're right. I just... couldn't let her go."

Gwen took his hand again. "Maybe it's about time you did. Don't you think?"

Was it? Nathel thought, for the first time, that it might be. What more could he have done for her? He had tried to protect her as best he could, but as Gwen had pointed out, he had only been a boy at the time. He had blamed himself because he had been her big brother, and he had always tried to look out for her and take care of her. But now, through Gwen, it seemed she was the one looking out for him. He couldn't ignore that. Not anymore. It had been long enough.

"Yeah," he said. "Maybe it is."

"That song you were playing earlier... it had to do with her, didn't it?"

Nathel thought of that slow, wistful melody and nodded. "She used to sing it back in our village. That's where it comes from."

"Can I hear it again?" she asked.

He smiled. "Sure."

Withdrawing his arm from around her, Nathel got up for a moment and rummaged through his pack until he found the flute. He took it out, added a little more wood to the fire, and sat down with his back against the cave wall once more. As he put the flute to his lips and began to play, he felt Gwen draw near to him again, scooting up against him to share her warmth and cloak. Nathel savored her touch and let the music flow out of him, and as it did so it brought back to him so many memories of his youth, of his lost sister and of growing up together in their little village. But for the first time, the pain that had always accompanied those memories was gone.

And then he heard something else. Gwen was singing. There were no words, only her sweet, soft voice rising in perfect harmony with the notes issuing forth from the flute. Nathel's heart raced, but he didn't stop playing. Nor did he want to. He loved listening to her. It felt good, but more than that, it felt right. It was what Alanna would have wanted, Gwen singing her song. And as the music filled his ears with its quiet, gentle melody, Nathel allowed himself at last to let her go.

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"Well," Nathel said. "It's about that time."

It was about an hour past noon, and he stood with Gwen on the small grassy hill behind the shrine where he had first met her. Ascalon City, and his future in the Vanguard, waited nearby. He had enjoyed his time with Gwen, but those few hours they had spent together had passed all too quickly. Nathel knew he wouldn't be on duty all the time, though, so while he would be busy, he would make sure to stop by and see Gwen every so often.

She sighed. "You gotta go?"

"Yeah. But I'll come back and see you, Gwen. Don't worry about that."

She smiled. "You promise?"

"I promise. Although I doubt I'll be able to get away for very long. Training and missions and all that. But I'll try to keep in touch."

"You better!" she said. "I want to hear all about your adventures!"

Nathel nodded. "You will. I'm going to be a hero, remember?"

"Yeah! Just like Devona and Aidan and Prince Rurik! You know, Nathel, I follow lots of grown-ups around all the time, and they're usually pretty nice to me. But I never had as much fun with any of them as I did with you today. It was a little scary here and there, but I knew I'd be alright, because you were with me. I'm really glad we met. And thanks for letting me tag along."

"You're welcome, Gwen. It wouldn't have been the same without you."

When he had first walked out of the city gates this morning, Nathel hadn't expected to have anyone with him today. He had been on his own for some time now, ever since Lina had gone off to Serenity Temple a few months ago to study under Priestess Rashenna. Incidentally, another monk of the same name―it was not an uncommon one in these parts―tended the shrine behind which he had met Gwen. Nathel was used to being alone, to spending more time in the woods and fields than inside the walls of his foster father's estate in Rin. Yet now, he couldn't imagine not having had Gwen skipping along beside him today. It just wouldn't have been the same.

She blushed and gave him one of her red iris flowers. "Here, take it with you. Be careful, okay?"

"I will," he promised, tucking it into his belt.

Wrapping her arms around Whisper's broad neck, Gwen gave the big cat a hug and scratched him between his ears, giggling all the while. "And you, you big lug, you look after him for me."

Nathel patted the big cat's broad shoulder. "Time to go. Goodbye, Gwen."

"Bye, Nathel!" she said. "Come back soon!"

After giving him a quick hug, she turned and pulled her flute from her belt. Soon enough, a merry little song filled the air, her fingers moving with practiced ease as she played. Nathel motioned for Whisper to follow him, and together they headed around the shrine and back to the road. As he reached it, Nathel glanced back over his shoulder and saw Gwen skipping around the hill. She paused in her playing and waved at him, and he smiled and waved back. Then he turned away and headed up the road toward the city.

He didn't see her again for eight years.

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As the last notes faded away and Gwen's voice grew quiet, Nathel lowered the flute from his lips and looked at her. She had closed her eyes, but now she opened them again, her brown irises finding his almost at once. Nathel's heart hammered against his chest as he became aware again of her nearness, of the warmth of her body next to his as she sat with him. He didn't know which was hotter, the fire in the cave or the fire in his blood.

"You have a beautiful voice," he said.

Gwen ran a hand through her short hair. "Thank you. I haven't done that in years. Not since I was a child. It was nice, though. Looks like we played that duet after all."

"We did, didn't we? I wish I could remember the words."

"That's alright. I like it the way it is."

Nathel put the flute back in his pack and nodded. "So do I. And... thank you. I think... I think I can finally let her go."

"You're welcome," she said. "I'm so glad to hear you say that."

For the first time, Nathel was able to think of Gwen, to even just look at her, without feeling that old burden of guilt weighing him down. Her capture and imprisonment so long ago by the Charr had been terrible, but it was the past. It was over now. It was time to look to the present, to the future, to no longer dwell on things that could not be changed. It was time to move on. "You were right, Gwen."

"About your sister?"

"Yes. And about you, too."

She smiled. "I'm just glad I could help. You've been there for me so many times, I'm happy I could finally do the same for you."

Over the past few weeks, Nathel had watched as Gwen had finally begun to come out of the brooding shell within which she had bound herself, and she had ceased to dwell on the pain and loss that had left her so bitter and angry for so long. She wasn't the wounded young woman he had met nearly a month ago when he had first come here. She was healing, a little at a time.

"It's good to see you smile again," Nathel told her.

Gwen nodded. "It feels good. And it's a little easier now. Being able to see my mother again helped a lot. I'm remembering so many things lately that I thought I never would, things that I thought were buried far too deeply for me to ever find them again. But they weren't. You helped me see that, Nathel. You and my mother. You brought me back. I know that I'm not alone anymore, and because of that, I... I can smile again, and laugh, and... and love..."

Nathel blinked. Was she saying what he thought she was saying? Did she feel about him the way he felt about her? Looking at her in the soft glow of the fire, at the gentle slant of her eyes and the damp strands of her short hair, he gazed at her small, pink lips and wondered what it would be like to cover them with his own. He didn't know, but he very much wanted to find out. He leaned toward her. "Sounds like you've renewed some of your old habits."

"I suppose I have, haven't I?"

"Yeah," he said, his face drifting closer to hers. "And maybe... maybe you and I... maybe we can form some new ones."

Gwen's eyes met his. "Like what?"

"Like this."

His heart pounding, Nathel reached up, drew her near, and kissed her. It was as though an aeromancer's lightning bolt had suddenly shot through his body. His blood burned, a river of lava coursing through his veins, and for a moment, coherent thought escaped him. All he was aware of was Gwen. All he wanted was Gwen. She was all he knew, her soft, sweet lips pressing fervently against his with a passion that stole the breath from his lungs and left him yearning for more.

At last Nathel pulled away, but only a little, and only for a moment. And then he went back to work, sliding both arms around Gwen and holding her close as she shifted so that she was sitting in front of him instead of next to him, her hands sliding through his hair as she kissed him back. How long he sat there with her like that, he didn't know. Nor did he care. But eventually he did pause again, looking at her in the pale orange glow of the fire and stroking her cheek. "I love you."

"I love you, too," she smiled.