***
Kiethara’s stomach swooped again as she struggled into consciousness. It took her a moment to realize that she was moving and another to realize that she was moving rather precariously.
Her hammock was swaying to and fro in the wind. She had been fidgeting in her dream, too, setting her hammock into even more haphazard swings. She gasped, grabbing the edges of the cloth to set herself steady. It was a good thing she did, too, or she would have tumbled right onto Camella.
She was sleeping on the ground beneath her, in a sleeping sack. Camella refused Kiethara’s hammock vehemently when she offered it, proclaiming:
“I don’t want you treating me special. Go about your normal business and don’t give a fret about me. I’ll help you where I can, and not bother you a trifle otherwise.”
Kiethara appreciated that because she knew she would have gotten no sleep at all if she had tried to sleep on the ground. At some times she was able too, but those times required her to be extremely tired…
Carefully, so not to disturb her sleeping friend, she slipped out of her hammock. Her feet moved silently against the ground as she made her way to the guardian’s lake.
It felt odd, having to be quiet. The silence seemed oppressive. She took a quick dip in the cool water, letting its magical qualities sooth her in more ways than one. Would Aaron have approved of the new arrangements? Her stomach panged at the thought of him.
Gazing up at the huge stone set with the four elements, she pondered her new situation. Maybe Tinya was right—did Camella really belong here? Not exactly, especially when she thought of Gandador attacking at any given moment. The situation did not seem ideal. She shuddered at the thought.
But she was not alone anymore. Camella was different company than Navadar was. She did not have to try as hard, for she did not feel as half as self conscious with her as she did with Navadar. Again, a wave of remorse washed over her as the guilt of sending him away ate her from the inside out. But at that particular moment, she had needed to be alone.
Her muses were interrupted as she felt Camella’s presence began to move in her head. With a sigh of bubbles, Kiethara pulled herself up from the sandy bottom of the lake and set off to meet her new guest.
When Kiethara arrived in her clearing Camella was already rolling up her makeshift bed.
“Sleep all right?” Kiethara asked.
Camella gasped and jumped violently, causing her bedding to unroll again.
“Goodness, Kiethara, don’t do that!” she rebuked.
“Do what?”
“Sneak up on me like that! Make some noise when you move, at least!”
“Oh, sorry,” Kiethara laughed.
Camella shook her head as she rolled up her blankets again. “Laugh now, but one day I’ll scare you back.”
“I wouldn’t,” Kiethara said seriously. “I might set you on fire or send you flying. My powers tend to get out of hand when I’m surprised.”
Camella looked up at her with wide eyes. “A-All right.”
Kiethara instantly regretted her words. Camella was not as easy to scare as Navadar was, but she was still capable.
“So what do you want for breakfast?” Kiethara asked politely, trying to lighten the mood.
“Whatever I catch, I suppose,” she replied with a wicked grin.
“Oh, no! We are not starting out the day killing some poor creature!”
“Didn’t you like the fish?”
“It was all right, I suppose,” Kiethara hedged. “But I’m not eating that for every meal!”
“Compromise, then. I’ll eat your rabbit breakfast with no complaints if you eat my dinners with the same attitude.”
Kiethara pursed her lips. “Fine.”
“Wonderful,” she cried, clapping her hands together. “What’s to eat?”
Kiethara rolled her eyes and grinned. “Rabbit food.”
The next few days followed in the same fashion. Kiethara took charge of breakfast and Camella took charge of dinner and, during this time, Kiethara was forced to get used to having company all day, everyday. She enjoyed Camella immensely, but at odd moments she found herself wishing that she was alone. Sometimes she did ask for a moment to herself, so she could practice her blade or train. She refused to do that with an audience.
On one particularly beautiful day, the two girls were in her clearing. Camella was sitting across from Kiethara, desperately trying to explain to her a game.
“Just keep your hands up, and let me show you again,” Camella huffed.
“Whatever you say,” Kiethara said dubiously. She had already given up trying to understand.
“Work with me here,” she pleaded. Camella clapped her hands together and then proceeded to slap them against Kiethara’s.
“This is a game?”
“Yes! Don’t you see the pattern?” she asked impatiently.
“I suppose so…”
“Oh, it’s hopeless!” Camella sighed dramatically.
“I’m sorry.”
“Its not—” Camella broke off with a gasp, which she cut off in the same second by slamming her jaw shut. Kiethara jumped, instantly making her way to get up. Camella clamped her hands down on her shoulders before she could move any farther.
“So, what do you think about Navadar?” she asked suddenly.
“What?” Kiethara asked, mind spinning. In her panic she reached for her connection. There was no one else there…
But there was. A presence so light, so devoid of magic she could hardly sense it. With Camella’s new and unsubtle behavior, she put two and two together.
“Navadar!” she gasped, half-flying to get upright.
She spun around until she spotted him. He was leaning against a thick oak, arms crossed and face lit with the most charming grin. It took her breath away.
“So this is Navadar,” Camella said in a mischievous tone, throwing her arm over Kiethara’s shoulder.
“Yes,” Kiethara said, reddening. Maybe she should not have told her everything.
“Not bad,” Camella breathed in her ear. Kiethara could not help but giggle.
Navadar shrugged off the tree and started forward. “Do I get to hear the joke?”
“It’s not that funny,” Kiethara said, rolling her eyes. “Navadar, this is Camella. Camella, this is Navadar.”
Camella curtsied. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“It’s a pleasure, I’m sure,” Navadar responded, bowing his head.
Kiethara fidgeted, unable to take the suddenly formal atmosphere. It seemed that people only really relaxed when they were alone with her.
“It’s a shame we don’t know each other better,” Camella continued. “We do live in the same kingdom.”
“We do?” he asked, surprised. “Where do you live?”
“Oh, I don’t live there anymore,” she said casually. “I got thrown out.”
The shock on Navadar’s face was almost comical. “Why?”
“They found out my grandfather and I used magic.”
“Ah…” he said a bit awkwardly.
“It’s all right,” she said cheerfully. “I’m living here now.”
“You are?” he asked, even more surprised.
“I’m the newest member of Kiethara’s kingdom. She’s starting one, you know.”
“Camella!”
“Is she now?” Navadar grinned.
“Yes, welcome to Fortress Forest,” Kiethara said sarcastically.
“I want to be ambassador!” Camella declared.
Kiethara rolled her eyes but otherwise ignored her. “Navadar, how long were you standing there?”
“Long enough to see that you can’t play a game of patty-cake.”
“I couldn’t make heads or tails of that nonsense,” she admitted with a grin. “I can’t see the point.”
“The point is to play,” Camella said in exasperation.
“And to keep the runts occupied until it was time for dinner,” Navadar added.
&n
bsp; “Oh, speaking of supper, I should be out hunting for it!” Camella gasped, looking up at the sun.
Kiethara made a face.
“I could go…” Navadar offered, a hand reaching for his bow.
“No, no,” Camella said rather sternly. “You two stay here. I’ll be back in an hour.”
With a conspicuous wink in Kiethara’s direction, she exited the clearing.
Kiethara now found herself hyperaware of Navadar’s warm chest looming a mere few feet away. She tried to keep the blush from her face as well as the glow from her crystals. How foolish would he think her if she turned invisible?
“Well, that was interesting,” Navadar said, breaking the silence.
“That is Camella, I’m afraid,” she sighed.
“Did I hear her right? Is she hunting for dinner?” he asked.
“Yes,” Kiethara said, making another face. “She’s making me eat animals.”
“Making you?”
“She doesn’t want to eat my ‘rabbit food,’ see.”
“Ah.”
“I only eat it in the evenings, though. That’s part of our arrangement,” she told him.
“Is she really living here, then?”
“Yes.”
“She got banished from Redawn?” he asked.
“Yes, and she had no where else to go.”
“And her grandfather?”
“Unfortunately, I think they arrested him.”
“Because he used magic?”
“And because of Gandador.”
“How do you reckon that?”
“Because he’s a greedy, selfish bastard intent on finding a way to thoroughly destroy every part of my life because I refuse to give up my power.”
Navadar blinked.
“So now I must kill him,” she finished.
“Kill him?”
“Soon.”
“Any particular reason why?”
“He’s creating panic and disorder throughout the kingdoms! He’s hurting the people I love and he’s sent my head spinning with his ludicrous plans to take my power from me, a power he wants so badly he’ll do anything for. The madness needs to stop!” she declared passionately.
“Okay…” Navadar said in a slightly strained voice. “Anything else you have to tell me?”
“Did I tell you Camella got me drunk?”
“N-No!” Navadar stuttered, his mouth dropping open.
“Well, then, that’s all.”
He shook his head back and forth slowly. “You never cease to…”
“Bore you?” she suggested.
He laughed so loudly it echoed through the trees.
“Amaze me,” he said before pulling her closer and kissing her.
The kiss made her realize just how much she had missed him. It had not been that long, either. Certainly not the longest separation they had had. He had hurried back to her, it seemed…
Guilt washed over her as she recalled the less than hospitable way she had treated him.
“I’m sorry…” she whispered when they broke apart. “About the last time, I mean…”
He took her chin in his hand and tilted her head back, so she could look no where but his eyes. They were bright, unclouded. Forgiving.
“Come on,” she said, taking his hand. “I want to show you something.”
Kiethara pulled him out of her clearing and through the trees until they arrived at her mother’s meadow.
Navadar whistled as the shadow of the great pine fell over his face. “What is this?”
“I didn’t mean to do it,” Kiethara admitted. “I was drunk. I hardly remember any of it.”
“You were drunk when you did this?” he gasped.
“Uh-huh.”
“Wow,” he said, shaking his head. His eyes were wide as they traveled up the pine.
Kiethara bit her lip, nervous. Had she revealed too much? She forgot so easily that magic was not a normal concept in his world.
“Well, it makes for nice shade,” he finally said. He was the one to grab her hand this time and pull her along, into the shadow of the massive trunk. He brought her to the base of it and sat down, pulling her into his lap.
“You know what happened when I first got drunk?” he asked.
Kiethara turned so she could face him, putting her arms around his neck. “No.”
“I was with Randall,” he began. “I had only been fifteen. We snuck into his father’s stash of ale and downed about a liter each. We stumbled out of his house—it was late, the sun had set—and got on my horse. We galloped all throughout Redawn, singing wedding ballots. My father was informed of our…behavior by a friend and he had set out to come get us. Never was I so terrified in my life, as I rounded a corner and caught sight of his face. Even drunk, I knew I was in for a whole lot of trouble. He pulled Randall and I off the horse and boxed our ears all the way home.
“Randall stayed the night. In the morning his father came and beat him all the way to his house. I spent my morning searching the hot, loud streets of Redawn with the worst headache you could possibly imagine, looking for my horse. I found him tied to a gypsy. Old goon made me pay ten pieces of gold to get him back!”
Kiethara laughed so hard her eyes teared up. “And I thought…I had it bad…” she gasped. He laughed along with her.
“It taught me well,” he chuckled. “I never had more than a glass of wine after that day, and the ones that I did were purely for social occasions.”
“I’ll never drink that poison again,” Kiethara vowed. “I could have killed Camella with this tree.”
They both looked up at the towering structure.
“I don’t know,” he mused with a teasing expression. “It might be interesting to see you drunk.”
“I didn’t realize you had a death wish.”
“Please,” he whispered. “You’re not that dangerous.”
She arched an eyebrow.
“What?” he said defensively.
“Do you need me to demonstrate how dangerous I can be?” she asked. “Or will past experiences be sufficient?”
“Well,” he said, his grin widening. “I’d like to see a demonstration.”
“Oh, really?” she giggled, brushing her nose against his. “I don’t want to scare you.”
“Do your worst,” he murmured into her hair.
She leaned her forehead against his collar bone, squeezing him gently. She could feel his warmth; his strong figure became apparent as they embraced, inhaling each other’s scents with deep sighs. For an entire moment, she lost herself to him. She forgot her connection, her powers, the time, the day, the season…
She never wanted to move again. The feel of his fingers running through her hair made her scalp tingle, while the feeling of his other hand squeezing her waist made butterflies fly around in her stomach. Every gentle touch made her body cry with pleasure and her senses scream themselves alive. He was the only one who could make her feel this way.
Time, however, eventually became to mean something. Camella was returning to her clearing, so she knew it was time for supper.
As Kiethara lifted her head, she spotted a bright patch of yellow on the far side of the meadow. Her stomach dropped as a new wave of guilt washed over her—when had been the last time she had thought of Trinnia? This meadow, once nothing but innocence swirling in beauty, had now become nothing but a tribute to the dead.
“D-Do you want to visit her?” she asked quietly, looking back at Navadar fearfully. She did not know what he wanted.
He leaned his head back against the trunk and gave a small, sad smile. It seemed rather peaceful to her.
“I already have,” he said quietly. “Before I came to you. I don’t want you to have to constantly deal with death, Kiethara. I want you to be happy.”
“As I want you to be,” she whispered. “But I also want to be there for you. No matter what.”
“You are,” he told her. “But I have a philosophy. I don’t think the dead want us wasting t
he life they had lost by spending hours sitting besides a grave. I believe they want us out there, living while we still have the chance, all the while respecting the memory of their life, not the stone that marks their corpse.”
She tilted her head at his words.
“I will respect Trinnia forever,” he promised. “But I can do that without visiting her grave.”
Kiethara swallowed, unable to give him a reply around the lump in her throat.
He brought his lips to her, kissing her again. Slowly, her old jubilation at his appearance returned, and when they broke apart with ragged breathing, she found herself smiling.
“I think dinner is ready,” she told him.
“Mm.”
Another kiss. How would she ever find the will to resurface?
By some miracle, she did. “You must be hungry. Besides, she’s a great cook.”
Navadar sighed. “All right.”
She smiled at his unwillingness, secretly pleased. “Let’s go, before I really show you how dangerous I can be.”