The way every once in a while,
it catches the light and starts smoking.
I liked hearing others talk about what they loved. Be it people, places, things. I would happily give up my body, my life, to live in cherished memories. Despite the differences between me and Castalla, I felt we were really very similar. It was mostly just time and circumstance that separated us; I born in her place, might very well have made the same choices she had, ended up with the same scars and the same stories. When she was finished speaking, I smiled in understanding.
“Your father kind of sounds like mine.” Except Eik’s loyalties were to Isra and me and my sister before the court, I was absolutely sure of it. I don’t know if there was a single place he loved. Maybe the sea? Probably not Denocte. He didn’t seem to distinguish one place from another the way most people did. But sometimes he stood with the wind at his back, just… looking at the horizon. Or past it, maybe-- those moments seemed private, so I never asked. But I didn’t linger on those thoughts too long. I was struck by Castalla’s nostalgic expression. It was the kind of sad smile I had seen on uncle Asterion. I took a stab at its source. “You miss them?”
I hated that question. Each time it was asked, my response was different, and I hated that even more than the question itself. The truest answer would be to say “I don’t know”-- because even though I had my reasons, none of them seemed good enough. But not knowing was also not good enough. So you can see how that question made me all tangled up and full of doubt.
Of course, I didn’t blame Castalla for asking me. I would have asked the same if I was in her position-- probably even sooner in the conversation. My pain only showed for a moment before I swallowed it and smoothly gave the first answer that came to mind: “This is our home.” The winter chill pressed up greedily against my body and I shivered. “Someone had to stay and protect it.” Oh, there was Antiope and Aunty Morr, Moira and Katniss. Fine fighters and healers, and in comparison I was just a girl with a wolf pup, a drop in the water. But I was born here, unlike the rest of them. And whether because of that reason or my fledgling magic or something else entirely unknown, this place spoke to me. I had to believe there was power in that.
I had to choose in something to believe in, or I would always let uncertainty get the best of me.
When she told me I didn’t want to be like her, I laughed. I couldn’t help it. Someone telling me what not to want, what not to do, only made me lean into it more. Especially after sharing scar stories, which absolutely enchanted me. “Okay,” I said dismissively, knowing what battles to pick and when to fold. My tone was clear- “You’re so right. I don’t want to be a beautiful, badass, wolf-shifting warrior princess. Of course.”
“Will you teach me more? Tomorrow, same time?” I tried to keep the hope from my voice. And as I asked the question I picked up the knives, placing them one by one in the training chest for the next person who would come here to practice. It was an opportunity to avert my gaze from Castalla, which I desperately needed so that she would not see how much her answer meant to me. “I won’t become too much like you. Promise.” My grin was green-apple tart, and there was no lack of playful teasing in the corners of my eyes.
I turned and slipped away into the cold, dark night.
The way it will cleave and grow
like antlers.
A S P A R A
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