The Winter Born [COMPLETED]

Chapter 33 - Sacrifice

"They're mad," Naerys whispers as she tucks a sleeping Nala into the bed that once belonged to the healer. "Do they really think they could win?" She asks to my silence.

I bite my lips. "They have a chance," I whisper while watching her sit on the bed, careful not to move Nala. "You saw the Valarians' heads." My mind flies back to their haunting eyes on yesterday's night and I feel a shiver run up my spine as lean against the wall. "It's your people, is it not? You shouldn't have seen it." I try to imagine myself watching the Outlanders' heads on wooden spikes. I would rather die.

"But I did," she says, looking at me with sad eyes. "I saw many dead people, highborn and lows. I am immortal, Cathellyn. Death is familiar when you cannot die. I see it every day," Naerys' voice is surprisingly stiff.

I stare at her, my arms crossed. "I thought immortality is a blessing."

"Was, it was a blessing in the few early years," she says. "Then my friends start to drop like flies and I find myself alone, insane and mad." Her breathing is ragged, the dust of white that emits from her mouth shows that. "It's a curse now."

I stay quiet for a moment. Naerys is a strange old woman. I cannot seem to figure her out. But the way her wrinkled hand ball into a fist as she looks to the wooden floor convinces me that her words are genuine.

She saved my life. The least I can do is give her my trust. "I never really thanked you for saving my life," I break the silence in the hollow air of the healer's house.

"There's no need for it. The healer bandaged you, I just woke you up quicker."

My mind goes to the healer and his white hair and billowing robes and soft smile. He tended me a number of times before, talked a lot too; a friendly man and was once a close friend of Father. And now he is gone, dead. Just like Father. I try to ignore the ache in my chest when I learned that he was the one Outlander that died when the Valarians came.

Why did it have to be him? I didn't shed any tears but it struck me still at the thought of not able to see him again. He was good, he didn't deserve to die. Nobody does. 

"Cathellyn," Naerys says in a soft voice, waking me up. "There is also no good in seeing the past." I frown at her words. But the past is the only place that I can see Father. I know saying this to her will bring up more unneeded words, so I shut my lips.

I look to the soundly sleeping Nala and the wrinkled hand of Naerys stroking her hair. She had played around with the witch for a long while, asking strange questions until Naerys got tired and with a wave of her hand, cast Nala into a slumber. 

"Look at her," Naerys whispers, stroking her fire hair. "Before long she will be an orphan."

My heart clenches. "Don't say that. We don't know that yet." We might win.

But she ignores me. "And all the children here will be orphans too. Even if we win, the cost of war will be paid with their tears."

"Their own children will be happy though. They will be free from the Valarians. Their sacrifice will be worth it," I feel terrible saying it, but it is true. The next generation will know only peace and wars and battles will be only in songs.

She jerks her head to me. "And if the children now will die too? What if the Valarians kill them too? We are not known for our mercy, Cathellyn."

I meet her eyes. "Are you siding with the Valarians, then?" My voice does not sound angry, only sad.

She stays quiet for a time, looking towards the girl on the bed and then back at me. "I'm not siding with anyone. I cannot betray my people but I cannot support them either. Besides," she smiles a sad smile. "What is there that an old woman could do?"