Page 122 of Forged in Fading

The painting punched Alvara in the gut. She dug her fingernails into Kat’s sleeve. They stood at the far side of town, where the houses that had survived the raid grew smaller with each step, each crafted in the same plain wooden upturned boat style, except this one.

Kat didn’t have to say a word for Alvara to know that it had been Eloisa. The creatures and plants of Vorianta swirled and swayed across each plank of wood, painted in varying shades of blue and white. Reindeer, wolves, ice foxes, and at the center, a domineering ice bear with the same blue eyes as Alvara. Some had been scorched by flames, chunks missing where King Einar’s elves had struck, but each curve and curl still left gouged another hole in her.

Her sister had traveled all this way, left the elven realm, and Alvara hadn’t even known. The painted symbols blurred together under a thin veil of tears.

“She would have been proud of you, you know.” Kat removed her arm from Alvara’s grip and wrapped it around her shoulders.

Alvara settled her head into her friend. “I’m not so sure about that.”

“You gave up everything to help the people she faded for. If that wouldn’t make her proud, then I didn’t know her as well as I thought I did.” Kat’s voice wobbled, and she took a long breath. “She saved this family’s daughter, and they wanted to repay her. You know Eloisa, she only wanted to use the chance to create more beauty for everyone else to enjoy. So, they let her paint their home. A reminder of her and of all the good we can do together instead of separate.”

Eloisa had always created beauty just by breathing, and Alvara…well, she spent her time forging weapons that could damage and kill. If that didn’t define them perfectly, she didn’t know what did.

“Ever since she passed, the world has seemed dimmer, emptier,” Alvara whispered. “Some days I still don’t know if I’ll ever accept that she’s gone. I miss her.”

“Me too.”

Alvara soaked in her sister’s memory for as long as she could stand, clinging to Kat. It wasn’t something she would have been able to face alone—they both knew that. She found herself wanting to share this piece of her family, herself, with Boden. But not today.

Cheeks dripping with tears and heart wrung dry, she stood up straight and dabbed her eyes with her sleeve. “I want to forget, at least for today.” And she did. All she wanted was a few hours free from all the weight that dragged her down.

Kat smoothed out her dress and gave Alvara a smile that could only mean trouble. “Say no more.”

The villagers had transformed the hall into a revelers’ paradise.

Ale and mead flowed freely, tumbling out of cups and horns, and from the raucous laughter echoing through the room, it seemed that more than a few of the humans had chosen to start celebrating quite early in the day. Some sang (though it sounded more like shouting) and twirled in circles to the beat of drums and the plucking of lyres, while others tossed axes at large boards of wood.

In the center of the room stood a long table piled high with food Alvara could have only dreamed of for the past few weeks: roast mutton and boar, buttered vegetables, dried fruits, and most importantly, honey cakes. She wrinkled her nose as she passed a plate full of some dreadful kind of fish.

Luckily, the fresh scent of the decorations outshined the rancid seafood. It looked as though someone had dragged the forest indoors and hung the greenery in plentiful bunches on the walls and draped it down tables and over chairs. It smelled of life, growth, and Boden.

Alvara snatched a pleasantly large cup of liquid that burned her nose and would hopefully do the same to her thoughts.

“Cheers.” Kat tapped her drink against Alvara’s and took a small sip.

That was not the kind of pace Alvara needed for a night to escape. She pushed a deep breath into her lungs and chugged half of her drink. The sweet liquid tingled its way down her throat, just like she remembered. The best way to forget.

“You weren’t joking about getting drunk tonight,” Kat said, eyebrows raised.

Alvara shoved a small cake into her mouth and pointed toward the circle of dancers. She grabbed her friend’s arm with one hand, mead in the other, and tugged her into the crowd, where they found Lilja already dancing away. The music rattled the floorboards, thrumming in Alvara’s ears. She let the melody carry her far away, surrendering total control. It knew better than she did how to properly celebrate the festivities.

Even Pyry had joined the celebrations, spending most of it at Oda’s side, except when he tried in vain to convince Alvara to discard her alcohol.

“Alva, it’s been years since you gave up drinking.” He knew from Jalomir, no doubt, all the effort she had put into resisting its allure. Pyry looked pointedly to the mead in her hand and frowned. “It’s not worth starting again just for a festival.”

But she didn’t want logic tonight. She didn’t want to think. “I haven’t had much.” The slight slur to her words betrayed her, and his frown deepened.

“Where is bear man?” Oda scrunched her nose.

Pyry let out a soft chuckle, so reminiscent of the younger, freer version of himself. Spending time with Oda really had done wonders on him. “She means Boden.”

Alvara grimaced and took another swig of mead.

“Ah, I see. I know you won’t listen, but don’t have too much. He won’t want to clean up your vomit any more than I did back home.”

“Pretty dress,” Oda said as she tugged Pyry toward the dancing. “Bear man will like it!”

“Slow down on the mead, Alva.” Pyry shot Alvara one last look before disappearing into the crowd. “For bear man’s sake.”