Page 32 of Forged in Fading

Boden looked up from his task. “If you’d like to spend time with me, Alvara, you can just ask me to join you for dinner.”

She stared back with not so much as a twitch of her lips. Gods, he knew how to push someone’s patience to its breaking point.

“Take the rest of the day off, Rav. I can handle this.”

Ravanel glanced between Alvara and Boden in a way that communicated he most definitely did not agree that Boden could handle it, but he obliged and left them alone to train.

“I know the magic reminds you of Eloisa. It reminds all of us that knew her even a little. But you have to move past that if you’d like to make any progress. Especially if you’d like to stay.”

“You say that like it’s easy.” She dragged her toe through the snow, drawing a lumpy ice bear. “Did you know her well?”

A grin tugged at the corner of Boden’s lips as he watched her. “Not as well as the others. I’m gone much of the time, acting as the king’s errand elf. But she left a mark on everyone she met. Similar to you, but in a much less violent way.”

His last words glimmered with humor, words that Alvara didn’t disagree with, but they still cut deep into newly opened wounds. She had never been even half as good or generous as Eloisa, and yet here she was, trying and mostly failing to help the cause her sister gave her life to.

“None of it is easy.” Boden’s voice had taken on that tone, the one he used when he was about to say something deep, unexpected. She wasn’t sure she would ever figure out which parts of him were real. “There’s nothing wrong with remembering the past, grieving it. No one would expect anything less with what you’ve been through. But if you only let the pain, the anger, dictate every breath you take, soon you’ll become someone you don’t even recognize.”

“Speaking from experience?” It was easier to push his assessment away and turn it on him. No one needed to see those parts of her. Pyry had, and he had left her without ever looking back.

“Deflecting, are we?” The ground where her atrocious drawing lay erupted into a flurry of dirt and snow, and Alvara frowned as the memory of her youngling years disintegrated. “This is all up to you. Whether you control your magic or not, I return to my luxurious life at the palace tomorrow and forget any of this ever happened. Your decision.”

She filled her lungs to the point of bursting, then drove the air out in a rush of white, billowing fog. If she failed, the king won. Nothing else mattered. “Again.”

The things she had survived, the loved ones she had lost. She wouldn’t let this be the thing to break her. The cold inside her formed into a small pile of razor-sharp ice shards, and the temperature around them plummeted. Her powers devoured her energy like an animal that hadn’t feasted in weeks.

Alvara poured every bit of her being into extinguishing her magic, relaxed the tight grip on her memories of her sister, and allowed them to flow. Her beautiful smile that radiated like the first day of valo. The way she scrunched her nose whenever she was deeply happy. Her endearing habit of hiccupping any time they shared a pastry.

The ice within Alvara continued to grow, though slower than before, and she submerged herself even deeper in Eloisa’s precious spirit. Her magic fought back, but she held steady, refusing to give in this time. She was stronger than this. The warmth of her sister’s presence, the softness of her embrace, each piece of Eloisa melted the frozen shards of Alvara’s magic until they dissolved into nothing.

She gasped and opened her eyes to confirm Ravanel was nowhere in sight. Instead, her gaze settled on Boden’s beaming face.

“Welcome to Ilmanir, Alvara.”

Stomach full and limbs heavy with fatigue, Alvara stood outside the door to the healers’ quarters, her heartbeat thrumming in her ears. Boden had talked her into visiting Kat, and now she was left wondering why and how she had even let that happen.

Of course, Alvara needed to apologize. More than that, she desperately wanted to. But maybe she could leave a note, something that didn’t involve speaking with Kat face to face. Did people write apology notes for almost murdering someone?

The door opened to the slim frame of an Elan elf. “Can I help you?”

So much for the murder apology note. “I’m here to see Kat.” Alvara rubbed her fingers over the braids running down both sides of her head.

“Katalen? I’ll take you to her. Follow me.” Alvara focused on the healer’s long brown hair swaying across her back as they walked, instead of looking at any of the injured patients they passed. “Are you a friend? We’ve had plenty of people come by, but I don’t remember seeing you before.”

“I’m…the reason Kat’s in here. Issues with my magic.”

“And they let you in here unsupervised?”

That was a good question. Why was she in here unsupervised? “It was Boden’s idea⁠—”

“Boden?” The healer rubbed her brow and muttered something under her breath. “I’ll have his hide if you cause any trouble. I already have enough patients to deal with from King Einar. She’s right through there. I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

Alvara mumbled her thanks and forced herself into the room before her nerves could convince her to run. It was almost impossible to even see Kat, whose head peeked out from a mountain of blankets and…bread?

“Alvara!” Kat pushed the clutter to one side and patted a small space next to her.

Alvara perched on the edge of the bed. There were so many words she wanted to say, but they all stuck in her throat like the dry biscuits at her father’s house. There was no way to even begin to make amends for what she had done.

“Hungry?” Kat lifted a bread roll covered in seeds.