Page 104 of Forged in Fading

Baths had once been her favorite way to unwind after the end of a long day, especially when she treated herself to some kind of a sweet as well. It didn’t melt her mind in the same way drinking had, but it had cleared the fog enough to face another day. This was different—no serenity greeted her in the scalding water, only her own guilt and filth.

The lives she had taken in Ilmanir had been drowned out by her own injuries and survival, along with the settling of the refugees, but now…she couldn’t outrun the remorse. Not this time.

Alvara stayed submerged with her head resting on a stone behind her and pictured the faces of those she’d killed. The ones she could remember. She imagined their families, their responsibilities left to rot. Because of her.

As she sat, the sky awoke with a trickle of orange, the bleakest day she had faced in a long while. Even the trilling of birds was absent, the chittering of squirrels nowhere to be found. As if she wasn’t the only one wanting to escape the consequences of yesterday’s bloodbath.

She dressed in her foul-smelling tunic and pants, allowing herself a few blissful moments arranging her damp hair into intricate braids. The methodical movement of her fingers breathed a few shaky remnants of peace into her battered body.

She snuck past the sleeping halls without stopping for breakfast, not interested in chancing running into Boden. With time, he would realize what she had: They needed to concentrate every second, every bit of energy on preparing for the greater battle to come. Anything that distracted them from their goal was a danger.

The ruins of Gosibik proved that a hundredfold, as effective as a bucket of ice water, spurring Alvara’s system into action.

The charred bones of homes lay strewn throughout the streets, while prickled vines choked the life out of any buildings left standing. Gruesome stains marred the earth, ones that would stay long after rain had washed them away, unlike the enemy bodies that had been stacked into a towering mountain. It would be easiest to set light to them, but that was a sign of respect they would never deserve.

That smell…decaying corpses. Mud. Sweat. The sickly odor of terror and loss, all mixed with the acrid scent of smoke…

Alvara pressed a hand to her mouth, swallowing the rising saliva and acid. Her stomach spasmed, and she drove her legs forward, breathing through the sickness. She needed to busy her hands, to channel her rage and shock into something useful.

She paused at the first signs of activity, a woman clearing ashes and whatever little else remained out of the half of her home that no longer stood.

“Hanchik?” Alvara shuffled toward the structure. She had hopefully used the word for help, but it might have also been the word for chicken.

Judging by the woman’s scrunched features, it had definitely not been help.

She resorted to communicating with her hands, which worked well enough. Alvara hefted a blackened chair into her arms and settled in for a day of hard work that would give her purpose and direction, so she would no longer feel like she was drifting toward the horizon with no shoreline in sight.

Splinters pricked Alvara’s hands, and sweat coated every bit of her. She had spent the better half of the day helping the older woman rebuild her home, though she lacked any of the necessary knowledge or skills. Regardless, she wanted to offer her time and strength in any way she could to help stitch the town back together.

“Eat.” Now that was a human word Alvara did understand. The woman handed her a plate of crusty bread, a slightly mushy apple, and a pile of soft cheese and gestured to a nearby stump.

Alvara thanked the woman, grateful for anything to eat as long as it didn’t involve fish, and for somewhere to rest her aching muscles. She dipped the bread into the cheese and bit off a hunk, chewing slowly while she inspected her handiwork. It wouldn’t be the nicest home in the town, but it would give the woman a safe place to stay.

“I see this is where you’ve been hiding.”

Alvara choked on her food. Her lunch would have tumbled to the ground, had Boden not caught it at the last moment. Her measly appetite vanished as he stooped and looked into her eyes. “I can’t possibly look that terrible, I did bathe.”

He looked the furthest thing from terrible. He wore a fresh set of clothes, tan pants and a dark brown shirt, rolled to the elbows as always, that accentuated the white markings climbing up his arms. His short hair, his skin—it had all been rinsed of the battle the day before. The fresh scent of pine and birch lingered around him, left over from a morning run through the woods if Alvara had any guess.

A nudge from Boden reminded her that he was still holding the plate out, and she grabbed it without a word.

“Is your plan to stay silent until I leave? If so, I can assure you I’ll only talk more.” The tinge of humor to his words only sank her stomach into the dirt.

Oh gods, he had no idea what was coming.

Alvara twiddled with her apple, scraping her nails against its skin. “I need to do everything I can to help things move forward. To prepare to fight with everything we have.”

“It’s only been a day, Alvara. And you look…You need to rest. Did you even see a healer? Because I can take you⁠—”

“I did. One of the humans helped me.” The words she needed to say stuck to her tongue like honey but tasted infinitely more sour. Alvara pinched her eyes shut and clawed the fruit in her hand. “You’re a distraction, Boden.” He said nothing, and she opened her eyes to find him grimacing like he was in pain. “Is it your injury? Do you need⁠—”

“A distraction?” His voice was cold and flat, his usually warm features sucked dry of all emotion.

She winced. “You, Kat, the others, you’re all becoming more people I can lose. People he can use against me. Weaknesses that I can’t have right now. If we don’t win this war, I don’t know how I can live with myself.”

“A distraction.” The words were quieter now, but not soft—sharp like steel.

“Are you even listening to me? I’m saying we need to put all of our energy into fighting King Einar. Anything less and we might lose.”