Five

When I leave the training arena all healed it's already dark. There are thousands of stars here, so close that the mountain tops seem to reach out and touch them. Fall settles quickly in Montfort and I pull my jacket around me tighter absently wondering if he is looking at the same stars I am.

I shake my head of the thought as I reach my home. The lights are all off as I reach the Barrow residence and it takes little concentration to turn on the outside light. No longer made of wood and stilts, this is a fine stone house with blue shutters and a red door. It's not large by any means but it's nowhere near as small as the house in the Stilts. It fits all of the Barrows comfortably and it's nice that Farley is right across the street. From here I can see the light in her room is still on.

"Hello stranger."

The voice of my father startles me as I turn to face him. I haven't spent much time at home since I've been back. "Dad, what are you doing up?"

"Ah, I couldn't sleep and I could hear Clara crying from here," He says moving from the open doorway to one of the veranda chairs. "Come, sit." He motions for me to take the chair next to him.

I do as he says and fold my hands in my lap.

"Were you fighting?" He asks nodding to the silver blood still smeared on the back of my hand.

I try and rub it on the leg of my pants, just making it worse. "Yes," I say, "But it was for fun, not for…" I trail off not knowing how to end that line of thinking. Not for war, not for death, not for my life.

"For practice," Dad offers the word and I nod. "For your ability?"

"Yes," I sigh in relief at his understanding.

"Can I see?"

I hold my hand out palm up obligingly. I let sparks dance between my fingers easily.

"Incredible," Dad breathes. "I never would have imagined this even possible." He looks up at me, a small smile on his face. "You're a miracle, Mare."

I scoff pulling my hand back into my lap. "I'm no miracle." I just bring death and destruction and pain.

Dad chuckles softly, "I would have to disagree." He sits back in his chair looking over at Farley's house. The light in her room is finally off. "You saved our family, you took us somewhere safe."

"Not all of us." I croak trying in vain to pull back the words.

Dad looks down at his lap. "I'm proud of Shade, of what he died for. I'm proud of you too, Mare. I'm so proud of who you've become."

"I've changed." I state. Not only have I noticed but my father has noticed too. I am no longer Mare Barrow of the Stilts.

"Mare, we all change. Some for the better, some for the worse. Some change with situations and some people change for other people. For the love of some people." I can feel him staring at the side of my face. I can't meet his gaze. I hear him sigh and the chair creak as he adjusts in his seat. "I know I did not leave the war the same as I entered it."

At that I look up. "You told me once," I say softly, "That you knew what it was to kill someone."

"I do." He says in a clipped tone.

"Do you… Do you still see them?" My mind swims with faces. Dead faces.

"Yes."

I nod accepting his answer, knowing what it would be before I even asked.

"Some do, the others have gone to haunt someone else, I suppose." He says gruffly almost to himself.

"How do you live with it? To know yourself and to know that you have done terrible things?" The words tumble out before I have time to stop them.

"You're going to have to find your balance. You can give into the darkness you feel or keep fighting it."

"You say that as if you're not worried about me."

"Oh, trust me, I worry about you." He chuckles watching me out of the corner of his eye. "That is just not something I worry about."

"Why not?"

Dad chuckles softly again, more sadly this time. "Because you know where that darkness takes you and you won't let it become you." He runs a hand through his thinning hair. "I saw it on Tuck."

I wince at the memory of putting Elara Merandus' body on display for all to see. If given the chance to do it all again, I don't think I would. "The only thing that helped me was a 6 month time out." I try at being playful but the joke doesn't land.

Dad scowls at me, his dark eyes raging. If I didn't know any better, I could have sworn I saw flame beneath the brown. "It was a bit more than a time out, Mare."

I bow my head at the scolding, "I'm sorry."

"That monster tried to break you, Mare." My father continues, his voice almost cracking. I feel the weight of his full gaze on me.

"I think he did." I whisper.

"No," My father's answer is quick, rough and final. "He tried. But not my girl. My daughter is a fighter, my daughter is strong. My daughter was raised in the mud of the Stilts and rose to become a hero."

"Dad…" I beg him to see that I am no hero, "I can't sleep alone, I can't have anyone or anything holding my wrists, I fall apart around silent stone." I tick them off one by one.

"There's a little girl who lives down the street," He says pointing left down the row of houses that all look similar. This block was built on the outskirts of town and mostly house refugees from Norta. People that traveled here from either Tuck or Piedmont. Most of the small children, the orphans, and families that escaped the war are here. "Every morning I take my walk and I pass her house. And every morning she runs to the door holding a stuffed purple lightning bolt. She must be no older than five or six. She knows who I am, and she certainly knows who you are. She knows what you did for her, what you did for her family. You're her hero. In her eyes, you saved her father from the war, you brought him home. You saved her future."

I look down at my hands. I haven't spent a lot of time thinking about those that were saved. The ones that I've lost or killed constantly swim in the forefront of my mind. Suddenly, I think of that little girl whose hand I held in Coros prison, the one that I told to be brave, I wish I knew her name. "What's her name?" I ask quietly, not planning on making the same mistake twice.

"Tessa." He says and I think I can hear him smile.