• Closed • Open and Closed Chapters

[Edalene]

Date: 23 Cylus 717

It was inevitable, really, now that she thought about it. Everything Edalene knew about history pointed to one thing: life was a circle. Everything came back around eventually. The same patterns of greed, lust, war - the world could not resist repeating its past mistakes. As a historian, Edalene should have known this. So why did she ever think it wouldn't apply to her?

Her feet padded through the frosted streets, leading her down from her warm house through the rings of Andaris. She knew where he would be. Narav had always stayed with Edward down on his boat in the docks, and she presumed he would do the same now. He could not have changed that much - people stayed the same, mostly. The superficial layers could shift and change like the tide, but there was always an ocean floor that stayed ever present. To the docks, then.

Edalene had changed her mind about this decision ever since talking to Aeodan and Duncan. One moment, she wanted to go back to the safety of not seeing him. Then she changed again, swivelling directions, and all she wanted to do was say those words she could not have said to him those years ago. Now, she stood in neither camp. She had no real decision. Her feet were just walking on a familiar path. She should have known. Edalene would always circle Narav.

She made it to the docks, eerily quiet in this Cylus cold. There was the odd sailor wandering around or doing work on their boats, but mostly people stayed still and hidden, trying to find warm spots anywhere they could. Edalene scanned the docks, her eyes looking for that familiar ship, but she could not find it anywhere. Maybe he had given up the sailor trade, but Edalene knew Narav, and he knew the sea. No one could change that much.

As she walked through the docks, she paused a sailor, an odd gruff man with a bushy beard, sucking on a pipe to keep warm. "Excuse me, sir," she asked, breath billowing out like smoke into the cold air. "Do you know a man named Narav? I believe he should be here, but I cannot find his ship." The man nodded, gesturing with his pipe back the way she had come. "Aye, his boat is thataways. Can't miss it. Small skiff, looks like a whale could swallow it in one gulp." Edalene nodded, thanking him, and drifted back the other way, her eyes looking out for a small boat.

She found it, then, bobbing in the water, dwarfed between two larger ships. Edalene scanned the boat, but could not see Narav. She moved up the dock, coming close to the ladder of the skiff. "Narav," she called out, and was surprised at how steady her voice sounded. "Narav, are you here?"

[Narav]

Most of that evening and previous afternoon had been spent in pursuit of the girl. Spirited from her home she was the talk of lower Andaris, her sketched likeness on every bounty board. Earlier Narav had picked a path through the seedy underbelly of the city, lining his whispers with coin to coax information from reticent lips. His coin had purchased little in that regard, but a few names and sobering warnings.

"Young man," the old woman had told him as he pushed the silver nel over the table to join three others, "This is not a path you want to tread."

"Then I suppose I'll reap the consequences, won't I?" He had answered quickly, much too quickly to have really thought about it. She shook her head and passed him a piece of paper with a name on it, Master Ironhands.

Took him the better part of the evening to find out who that referred to and now he pieced information together below deck on his skiff, a narrow place he could lay his belongings and bedroll. The light filtering past the shadow of the larger ships flanking him illuminated the pages of haphazard notes he'd been taking. Since the run-in with Fridgar in the library his head had been full of curious urging. Never before had he considered himself daring enough to upend an entire bookcase on a wanted criminal and a mage. Where was the caution Edward had scolded into his bones? Was this more of the Tobelle blood, fiery and passionate? Perhaps...more than likely more urging from the accursed touch of Lisirra. It infected him like any sickness might, despite the fact he was immune to its ravages now. Even the picture of health was not enough for him and his right hand twitched to find his dagger and seek some warm flesh to twist it in.

Luckily, the urges were still controllable...at least in most contexts. What was getting confusing was when they ran parallel to his sense of action and involvement. At what point would he stop recognizing these urges as alien? At what point would he be the slavering murderer Edward had seen in his father? The dead face of Godryn grinned at him from the shadows and Narav snarled, scattering parchment and quills in the dark, casting that phantom into dissolution.

Edalene. He had seen her and she was gone in the chaos. So far no burly guards had showed up at his skiff and demanded he answer for the Arcs old crime, so he assumed her fury did not outweigh her sense of preservation. A lot about Andaris brought him to the memories of his childhood...the apples, the clasped hands, his growing friendship with Edalene and Aoerdan, but especially Edalene. He remembered the events of that night so clearly, the weight of the guilt on them both and the way he had to depart after. He remembered the empty Arcs without letters stretching on till now. Had he come to Rynmere to seek his sister and father as he'd planned...or was it simply a guise to reconnect with Edalene? He hadn't returned here since the murder and honestly, without the impetus of what happened he doubted he ever would. But here he was in the docks of Andaris, meddling in affairs that had nothing to do with him.

And her...

He could almost here her voice.

No. Wait. He could hear her voice.

He sat up without adjusting his position and cracked his head against the deck with a solid bang. Falling back, Narav went to cradle his injured head and cursed, rolling around below deck before adjusting himself and awkwardly climbing from the trapdoor. His clothes were rumpled and stained, the product of his attention being otherwise engaged these past few trials. She, on the other hand, looked as beautiful now as she did when he'd seen her at the library. Much of her steel was gone though, she held herself without the same fierce, impatient fire he'd noted before she knew it was him. Blood seeped from a shallow gash in his forehead, pressing through his fingers and sliding down his skin.

"I, Yes...errr..." he drew in a sharp breath and disappeared again beneath the deck, returning with scraps of bandages he wrapped unceremoniously around the wound. In the shade of the two ships he didn't need to squint and instead held himself, half in and half out of the boat, peering over at her. Confusion worked its way across his face. There was no fury there, what he'd expected to see.

"Edalene." He said at last, settling back and scurrying from the hole, closing the door behind him and sitting with his legs outstretched over the deck and his back to the railing. "I'm here."

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[Edalene]

A bang from below deck, and Edalene's heart clenched. He was here, then. Or someone was, anyway, below deck. The part of her that had been hoping he was not here melted away like snow, and she steeled herself, waiting for Narav to appear. She wanted to turn away and run, but she held her ground, clutching her hands together and worrying at the cuticles. She was glad he was here. She was terrified he was here. She was confused.

His head popped up through a trapdoor, and her brow gathered, confused. He was bleeding, and awkward, before disappearing below deck again. Had he seen her and fled? Would he even come back out? Why should he? There was no way he could or would want to interact with a murderer, even one that was an old friend. He returned, though, dabbing at the wound on his forehead with some bandages. A smile nearly threatened its way across her face; he was so much like he used to be. But coming and sitting out on the boat, she looked at him, and her heart stopped in her throat.

Narav looked much the same as he had. He had not changed much in four arcs, not like Edalene, but still, she had not recognised him. He was thinner, and more tanned, and Edalene noted - of course - that he was still as handsome as he was then. More so, if she was honest. Everything in her screamed to run to him, now, throw herself into his arms and cry words that she should have send long ago. But she didn't. She stayed still.

She watched him for a few trills, her teeth worrying at her lower lip. Now they were together again, words stuck in her throat. What could she say to him? "I got your letters," Edalene blurted out, surprising herself. So much to say, and this is what she began with? "All of them." She shrugged awkwardly, as if trying to distance herself. "I didn't respond," of course he knew that, "but... yes. I got them."

Edalene waited a trill. And again, blurted out a question, one that did not matter and was not what she came here to discuss. But those words were too hard. "Is Edward here with you?"

[Narav]

Time had changed her, drawn curves where they had been slight before, puller her taller. Her hair was longer now, he could appreciated that. The way the salt-air blew through it, the pale of her skin. Narav closed his eyes a moment and laid his head back over the rail, facing up toward the sky. He heard her answers, about receiving his letters. Well, at least that lined up. But honestly he had truly started to doubt the ten letters he had sent had all found their way to the bottom of the sea in transit. One or two must have made it through, if not them all, and she had not sent back word on a single one. How many cycles had he wasted demanding the house be searched for missing mail when Edward, Danielle, and he had returned from sea? Each time there was nothing for him, at least from Edalene.

Had he ever considered that a slight? Yes, but only because she couldn't have known he'd actually murdered Godryn, buried him after beating his head broken with a shovel. She couldn't have known so she was avoiding him out of what...guilt? Association? They had done the deed together, in fact she had twisted his arm into helping. He imagined twisting her arm now, twisting it so hard her beautiful features would seize in sudden pain. He could devour the sharp, panicked gasps of her breath, sink his teeth into her tender neck, slide his hand-

Narav opened his eyes. The sky was unchanged, overcast and dark in the shadow of the two ships. The urge fell away from him, leaving his heart cold and the ghost of vomit in his throat. His head throbbed and he lifted it, looking across the skiff to her as she asked about Edward. His cold heart sank, listed in the waters of his continued failure.

No doubt it would register across his face, especially in the way his eyes sought to dive away from hers to focus on the wood.

"No," He answered shortly, "I haven't seen my father for the better part of an Arc, Danielle either." Had she met his adoptive sister? No, maybe not, but she had certainly heard about her. "I've been..." he didn't finish, holding up his arms in surrender and letting them flop, "Looking for him along his trade routes. Not as easy to get across the sea in a skiff, but I get by with help along the way." His heart felt like the accidental hollowing of the sea. "I lost him in a storm or he..." Narav trailed off and sighed, tightening the bandage on his scalp, "They lost me. I went overboard during a boarding and was lost. I haven't found them yet, either of them. Rynmere was the first place I looked."

Mortified, he couldn't meet her eyes. The shame was too much. What would he say if she asked how he survived? Lie. Lie of course. How do you explain that the Immortal of Plague had bet life on a twisted game of survival and granted him with this...evil for winning. How could he tell her that if she found his family first, that they would die in agony knowing he could have saved them?

He couldn't.

This was unrelated.

He met her eyes again, hollow, tired. "What did you come for, Edalene?" He asked her quietly, "To turn me in? Ask me to turn myself in?"

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[Edalene]

Narav closed his eyes, looked away. He rested his head against the railing, and Edalene's heart clenched. He couldn't look at her. Maybe nothing had changed in these arcs they'd been apart. Maybe everything was exactly the same. That night, at the graveyard, he hadn't been able to look at her, or hold her. He'd just walked away...

But no. This was different. Time had passed like waves on sand. This was a whole new beach now, made up of different particles and different creatures, and it would all be different. Edalene steeled herself, willed him to meet her eyes. Look at her, acknowledge her, something. Anything. After a beat, he opened his eyes, brought the stormy grey to hers, and she nearly flinched away at the cold, sad look there. What had happened these past arcs? Why did he look so ... dead inside?

Edalene wished she could snatch the question back as soon as his expression changed. Before he even spoke, Edalene knew Edward was gone. Why else was he here, and not on the Deliverance? On this tiny skiff, which looked as if a mere breeze would capsize it and send everything inside to the depths? No. Edward was gone, and his cold, tired words only confirmed that. Her heart clenched. Narav, who had struggled so much with his sense of family, had lost his second one.

"Narav..." What could she say? I'm sorry? Those words, so ineffectual. And yet Edward might not even be dead. He had simply been 'lost', Narav said. When he went overboard. Her heart clenched to think of her Narav drowning in the depths, and she took an automatic step forward, almost as if she were going to try and climb to him, but she stopped herself. "I'm sorry. I hope... I hope you find them." Useless words. Useless fucking words. She looked away briefly, controlling herself.

And her eyes snapped back to him when he asked the question. How ... how could he think that? Before she could stop herself, a startled laugh burst out of her, though there was nothing funny about the situation at all. Shaking her head, she laughed. "Turn yourself in? Why... why would I get you to do that?" Edalene met his beautiful, grey eyes, biting her lip. "We both know it was me who needs to be turned in. That was why you left, that night. That was why..." That was why you would not hold me, she could not say.

[Narav]

He laughed. It was not his usual mirth, sardonic and choked. Croaking the wry bubbles creeping up from his stomach. The skiff bobbed up and down against the waves, secured to the dock by a series of ropes Narav had tied earlier. His pole was straight, not even the hint of a nibble at the line he had placed out before. Likely some salmon had sucked the shrimp off the hook without biting down, they were crafty around the docks. Fool fishers threw their nets and lures here, the fish had wised to the way of men. Throwing his arms up over the rail behind him, Narav sunk a little lower in the belly of his boat and shook his head slowly. Of course, of course. He hadn't told her. No letter he sent could risk the damned ink explaining his guilt and so she had wrestled with the pain of it all for Arcs.

"No, no, you've got it wrong," the sailor said, not looking up, "There are things you don't know." He peered at his feet, wiggling toes stretching and flexing in the sea air. He imagined what it would feel like to walk the graveyard now, grip the sparse grass between his digits, dig his heels in and stand before the grave of two. Godryn would come clawing from the earth, chunks of dirt and stone shattering before his frenzied advance. Narav could almost imagine the bits of dried and shriveled flesh, the sightless eyes, once full hair hung in sparse, bedraggled clumps from a rotting pate. He could wait for it to crawl towards him, arm after bony arm and...

((Snap its wrist, pop ribs out of sequence one by one, carve your initials into its sunken sockets))

let it pull him in.

"I couldn't tell you then and I couldn't risk the letters being read. When you left, I went to move the body." He looked up at her then, a faint, sickened smile crawling from one corner of his lips, "I reached down to grab his shoulders and he sprang to life, grabbed my ankle." His eyes were locked with Edalene's now, never moving, never shifting. "He couldn't have been fully conscious. Most of his head was strewn in the grass. But he looked at me and I panicked." Narav stood suddenly, one hand bracing himself against the mast as he mimed with the other. "Bash. Bash. Bash. Bash." he said, each word punctuated with a brutal pantomime, "Till he let go. Then I moved him, tossed in the dress and his gear, buried him, and cleaned up the rest." His shoulders slumped and he sank back down to the deck of his skiff. There was no sorrow in him any longer. That lonely world with just him and his murder had grown another soul but all the tears that boy shed were gone now, in the cold dirt with Godryn and in the uncaring sea all the way back to Ne'haer.

"You're not the murderer, Edalene," He said at last, "You're free of that. I killed the Knight. I murdered Allan's father." Haunted, he regarded her, "You're free."

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[Edalene]

He wouldn't meet her eyes. Of course he wouldn't. Perhaps Edalene had been wrong to come here. Why would he want to see her? She was a murderer, and she had never answered his letters. It had been four arcs, and it sounded like that time had wrung the warmth from Narav. He was colder, slower, less forthcoming than he had once been with her. Again, bitterness ripped through her. Why had she ever suggested that godforsaken prank, the prank which had torn apart the lives of three innocent teenagers? Though perhaps she had never been that innocent... the prank had been her idea, after all.

Narav kept talking, and his words were hollow, dry. His laugh, too, echoed in the cold air between them. Edalene shivered in the Cylus air, wishing more than anything that she could find some warmth from this long owed conversation, but he had none to give her, it seemed. Slowly, horribly, he weaved a tale, images of horror she had not allowed herself to imagine willfully (though of course they haunted her at night). And his mirth... there was a dry sadistic mirth there, and she flinched at his sound effects. Bam, bam, bam. No, this was not Narav. How could it be? Her Narav was nothing like this thing, this phantom of memory, that sat before her. No. It couldn't be. Narav the murderer? He swayed and stood on the boat, and mimed the death that she had caused. No.

"Narav," she interrupted, her face pale from memory and the act before her. "You don't need to lie to me. We both know..." she sighed, taking a step toward the bobbing skiff where Narav had built his kingdom, "that it was me. I scared him, he slipped. It was my idea." Edalene refused to entertain the notion that he was telling the truth. Would not, could not, consider the boy she loved capable of such a thing. "Please, just don't lie to me."

Edalene sighed, shoulders slumped. "I'm not free. I haven't been. I wish..." She nearly didn't say it, but Aeodan had showed her just what keeping secrets did. "I wish you hadn't left. That you'd held me that night. I thought..." Her words failed her, then. "I can go, if you'd like. But I've missed you." Her eyes scanned his for any flicker of emotion. "I've missed you so. I'd like to come up. But... I can leave." Edalene waited for Narav to decide.

[Narav]

Awash with blood he stood, speckled in the memory of warm, red, rain. The shovel was not in his hands but he could almost feel the worn haft of the wood and the cold kiss of iron. He was smaller, younger, hidden blissfully in the darkness away from Edalene as she failed again and again to walk to his side. The blood. It divided them as neatly as if it was a river. When all was said and done, she was dirtied with the ash of their deceit, the letter she had claimed and he had written, but Narav squarely held the premeditation of murder. It gripped him, that dark hatred that roiled and surged beneath his skin. A part of him wanted to tear the younger self, his memory, to bits and pieces...to rend the entire thing from existence. Another wanted to destroy his current incarnation, skip back to that horrifying night and see the stars instead of meddle. Would Edward still be here if he had? Would Danielle? Would he be asking Eda's hand at her parents home and awkwardly offering Aorden a drink at the tavern?

No. None of this was mutable, molded in the past and scorched with memory it was as unyielding as death. No. More. At least death had a grim finality. This...no, this was a nightmare. The worst part was that part of him enjoyed the feeling, the dead mans blood on his hands again and the power he had felt back then. What was once an empty terror was reborn through Lisirra's machinations.

"You're not listening," he said, letting his hands drop to his sides a moment, "I need you to understand." Narav jumped from the lip of his boat to land in front of her, barely an inch of space between the back of his feet and where his skiff gently bobbed. He grabbed Edalene, hard, feeling the shape of her bone against his fingers. He caught her eyes, the later afternoon gloom shadowing his face but his eyes blazed, as if they were glowing. They were, of course, but he couldn't think of that now. "You are guilty only of botched justice. Your intentions were noble. Edalene. EDALENE." He shook her, refusing to let her look away from him, "You did as I planned. The weight of this is on me. ME. I took the shovel and crushed his skull. I killed Godryn. I KILLED HIM." Each word was a terse hiss between gritted teeth. His grip was too hard, he could feel that now. Her bones were almost painful against his palms and he pushed her back from him, more forceful than he had planned.

He only kept his feet for a few moments before falling back, collapsing weakly against the skiff and cradling his hands, rubbing them over and over. There was blood on them, always blood. There would always be more blood. "Go from here." He found himself saying, "On the first of Ashan I will rebury Godryn where his grave lies empty. If you come with Knights for me then, so be it, I will..." He looked up, ruefully, averting his eyes again, "I will tell them I did it all. Your part in this, your torture and pain is misguided and wrong." He stuttered on the last word, swallowed it, said it again stronger. "Wrong. You're wrong. About Godryn. About you. About me."

The gulf between them was a world. A world of silence, as deafening now as it was those years ago.

"I have not healed in time, Edalene," He found himself saying, hoarse, "I have festered. I am a murderer. No different than the blood I was born from, despite Edward's best efforts I am..." he took a shuddering breath. "I am a killer." His eyes closed a moment and he looked up at her, if she was still there.

"You deserve better company than a killer, Edalene."

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[Edalene]

Edalene flinched backwards as Narav suddenly sprung to life. She wished she had been able to stand still, to be strong, but there was a wildness in his eyes, and a slight, unnerving glow to them. Edalene swallowed, and her hands felt useless. He made his way from the skiff to her side, gripped her arms with a surprising strength. Edalene gasped, both from the pain his grasp elicited, and from the burn of touch. It was the first time he had touched her willingly, and she wished it were under other circumstances. Still, fear coursed through her - there was a blaze to his words, and the flames ripped dangerously close to Edalene.

"Narav--" she gasped out, but he kept talking. She stiffened beneath his touch, bit her tongue, and let him grip her. Again, that impulse - to run. But she had been running from him for so long, and if her nightmares had been so horrible, she could barely imagine what Narav had been through, alone as she was. She steeled herself, let his words dash over her like waves on a rock. She could not, would not, break before him. She had seen this before. Hell, Edalene had done this before. Push people away. Don't let them in. Protect your heart from further damage, like a callous over sensitive skin. Edalene stayed still, but anger rose within her - frustration. He didn't LISTEN to her. He took on a burden that by all rights they should share. And he would not listen to her - as if she were some silly girl mixed up in things she couldn't understand.

Edalene stayed staunch, looked into those glowing eyes, awash with fear, anger, and memory. But her eyes were cold, her lip twisted, her eyebrows raised. She could feel his angry grip, and knew her skin would be bruised on the morrow. His fingers leaving marks like he had on her memories. She watched as his anger lashed out upon her, and then, with heaviness, he let her go. Edalene let her arms stay where they were, watched as he stumbled back, and still, even as his words softened, she did not. Frustration tasted like bile in her throat. Narav stumbled back, leant against the skiff, told her to go. Only then did she allow herself to move, crossing her arms, as if she were holding the anger tight inside her body.

"Are you quite finished?" she asked tightly, her voice coolly controlled. "Shut up, Narav. Shut up." She stepped forward, and honestly, she wanted to slap him, but kept her fists balled tightly against herself. "We did it. We did it together. Sure, if you say you bashed his skull in, fine. You did that. But I scared him, and he fell. Without both of us, none of this would have happened. So we're both fucking murderers." Her voice was cold. Terrifying. Like iced steel.

"I'm sorry, alright?" she bit out, not an expression of remorse, but frustration and bitterness. "I'm sorry I suggested the stupid prank. I'm sorry I never wrote back. I'm sorry I fucking let you go - I shouldn't have." She took a deep breath, and her voice softened. "We're both killers. So Narav... we deserve each other." She took another step forward, and let herself be brave. A hand stretched out, and made to cup his cheek, her hand soft and cold against his skin, if he let her.

"But I need you. Okay? I need you this time. I need you to stay. I can't..." and she laughed, a choking, desperate laugh. "I see it every night in my nightmares. I finally... I finally told Aeodan, and he loves me anyway, but it's not..." her shoulders shuddered, "it's not you. I need you, Narav. Please..." And another step closer, and her body was almost touching his. "I need you." Her shoulders shaking, she let out a breath.

"Don't leave me again. Please."

[Narav]

In the wake of his fury, only exhaustion remained. He slumped against the back of his boat as she spoke. Without looking at her his eyes fell only to his slowly wringing hands. The wounds Fridgar had left itched, criss-cross bandages running under his shirt and thin linen wrapped under his eyes and where the claws of the beast creature had caught him. If he was being honest, he shouldn't push himself. Doran, Minerva, any number of the doctors that came before him would advise against it. The itching was healing, but the pain would follow soon if he kept pushing himself. Above them, the sky darkened and hung low with unspent rain. Water licked up over the dock to spot his hands, rubbing them raw between his thumb and fingers. Something about this place, the stink of fish and the creak of timber. It was a world between worlds and they stood on the precipice. Here, anything could happen.


Perhaps in one reality he could stand and take her in his arms. The girl of long ago and far away could be his and he could be free of this. Her touch would kill the thing within him, would heal his wounds, and banish the phantom of his past, the specters of doubt that followed from coast to coast. All it would take was standing up and taking her in his arms, drunk in her scent. In another reality he killed her there, gripped her slender throat in his claws and bury her in that infinite rolling dark that swallowed all sailors. She died with his past and he would rise, baptized, and free of the guilt that hung around his neck like an anchor.

His hands clenched, Narav stood.

Thunder rolled distantly and he let it exhale with his breath. Her hand was soft on his cheek but he gently reached up and took that hand. There was no fierceness there, no fury. Instead he rubbed a calloused finger against her flesh and let the hand drop.

"Bury your demons, Edalene," He said quietly, putting a hand on her shoulder, "I'm not who you remember and I'll only drag you down." He passed bey her, leaving his love on the dock in front of his skiff. He walked down the dock, each step taking him farther. A new path laid out for his feet now, never forgetting but never allowing them to overwhelm.

"What we need, Edalene," He said, pausing and turning back to her as the rain started to fall, sharp and cold, "Is to stop living in the past. It's time to be honest about who we are."

He turned back to the dock and walked away, pulling his hood up against the rain. It might be the last he sees her, left in the coming storm. But in a way, this was best. The rain would cleanse them both and hopefully give her the power to go on, to walk without him and finally untether her life from that day. It was clear what he needed to do now, in order to set himself free. Godryn. He would rebury the Knight in his own grave, say the words he needed to say, and set out again.

Too much time here in the past, while Lisirra grew ever closer...too much time lost in the could be and the had been. No more. From now on, it was forward.