Page 136 of Forged in Fading

Alvara’s legs threatened to buckle, but Boden kept her upright with an arm around her waist. Noma. The exact words Alvara had said to her, the words that had convinced the woman to help. “How…”

“Noma had much to say to everyone in the palace that day, including the king, before she—” His lips quivered. “You lit a fire in her that day, Alvara. And a few of the others. It was glorious to see for the few moments it lasted, before the king smothered it.”

Her eyes burned with tears. “But⁠—”

Erun held up a hand. “No. I had a choice, Alvara. To be better than the king who held me captive. To be a broken link in a chain of violence, freeing those after me from the hate that bound me. My brother”—he elbowed the chief in the ribs, who punched Erun in the arm—“acted out of his love for me and my family when he refused to work with any of the elves after what happened. He is the older brother, unable to help himself when it comes to protecting me. But he was not thinking of the good of his people, his town.”

The chief grumbled something in the human tongue, and Erun pointed to the bench, where Chief Frigar sat himself down, arms crossed and face sullen.

“As I was saying,” Erun said, “I accept your apology and forgive you, Alvara, but you committed no worse crime than my brother or I did. What matters now is putting our differences aside and proving to King Einar that we will not be beaten.” He stared down at his feet, his voice fragile. “Your father loved you very much, Alvara. In those moments I hesitated…he wanted you to know.”

The heaviness in Alvara’s chest lifted. For the first time, the cracks in her heart where her family lived didn’t hurt. They didn’t disappear, because they never would, but instead repaired themselves, filling the aching emptiness with all of the love she held for them. The pain, the sorrow, the memories both good and bad—they transformed the broken parts into something beautiful to be proud of. To share, not to hide. Broken parts for the world to see, never to be forgotten.

She didn’t wipe away the tears that fell, not this time. Alvara faced Erun and Chief Frigar, the warmth of Boden’s hand a reminder of everyone who would care for her, support her no matter what fate might bring.

“Tell your brother I’m sorry for breaking his trust and hurting one of his own.” Alvara thought of her family, of Noma, of Boden’s father. Everyone the king had stolen from them. “Most of all, tell the chief that we will all watch King Einar fall. Together.”

Chapter Forty-Seven

Tomorrow.

All of the preparation, the training, two weeks of rebuilding trust and working at all hours of the day and night—it had led to this.

Alvara watched as her friends filtered amongst the crowd in the chief’s meeting hall, confirming each of their assignments for the morning. It wouldn’t be easy, letting them walk into battle, not knowing if she would ever see their faces again. But each of them knew the stakes, and yet they had still agreed to give everything for what they believed in.

Aurilena’s honey-gold eyes found hers, and Alvara swallowed. They had barely exchanged three words since she broke the blood oath.

“You did well.” Rav’s comment startled her, as it always did when he seemingly appeared out of thin air.

“Are you giving me a compliment?”

“Don’t push it.”

Alvara elbowed him in the ribs. If she tried to hug him, she had no doubt it would be the last thing she did. “Thank you. For not killing me the first day you met me.”

The storm in his gray eyes receded. “I’m glad I didn’t.”

“Me too,” Kat said. “Even though I think I’ve aged more than a few years since meeting her.” She brushed a hand against Rav’s arm. “Can you give us a moment?”

He nodded and strode across the room toward where Boden leaned over the table, entrenched in the map that lay before him.

“I’m sorry,” Alvara said. She hadn’t had a moment to sit down with Kat or really any of them since discovering the barrier plant. “I risked everything. Everything you, Boden, Rav, and Aurilena have worked for. I didn’t think about anyone other than myself in that moment, and you all deserve so much more.” And they really did. Each one of them had found a place in her heart and helped to heal the wounds of her past. “You gave me chance after chance when I did nothing to earn it, and you’re truly the only reason I’m still standing. I broke your trust for my own selfish reasons, and I can’t apologize enough for that.”

Kat didn’t speak, wildly unusual for her, and the silence between them swelled the anxiety in Alvara’s chest. She couldn’t blame her friend if she never forgave her.

“Part of me,” Kat said, elongating each word, “a very large part, wants to toss you out the door on your ass, but I also know who you are under this mess.” She gestured to Alvara’s entire being with a wry smile. “Love isn’t easy, Alvara. It can open up wounds we thought had healed years ago. And you, my friend, have many, many wounds.” That, Alvara could hardly disagree with. “But pushing people away won’t make them love you any less, and it sure won’t make you love them any less. It will only leave you alone and miserable, wishing you had opened yourself up to the people that gave you a chance. Just…let us in. That’s all we’re asking.”

Alvara found her friend’s hand and squeezed. “I thought I had lost my family. But you, all of you, make me feel like I may have found a new one.”

“I’ve tried to tell myself otherwise for the past few weeks, but I think we all need you as much as you need us.” Kat jutted her chin in Boden’s direction. “Especially that one. You’re both good for each other. Except when you almost murder someone in your free time⁠—”

“All right, all right. Now go torture Rav with your enticing presence. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Her friend winked and trotted off, and Alvara stared at Boden.

Huddled over the table, he seemed to be locked in a wordy debate (mostly on his part) with Rav about their battle strategy. The way his chestnut hair always fell on his forehead in an unruly mess no matter how many times he combed it, the animation that possessed him when he spoke passionately, the laugh—his laugh, which filled every corner of the room and fought off any looming darkness that tried to enter.

She wanted to memorize it all.