The Kindly One

X. The Popinjay's Concern

The world came back to Iona in the worst way possible, an ache beyond anything she'd ever experienced claiming her whole body. She was feverish and weak, but the pain in the center of her chest overwhelmed all others. It was as though she'd ripped a piece of her heart away. Maybe she had. It was laying on the ground in Tamaris, etched into the cracked stone and painted in blood spatters.

She was a monster.

"Kája, she's awake," Benedikt said, nudging the spellguard with his foot. She had been finally sleeping in a bedroll after days in the saddle, worrying herself to death. "How are you feeling, my dear?"

Her mouth tasted like bitter ashes. "Fine," Iona whispered.

"You're a terrible liar," Benedikt said with a shake of his head. "No one can go through that and be fine."

Iona shook her head. She reached out, brushing her hand against some of the frozen grass. It withered and died as her body automatically attempted to restore or at least bolster its supply of power. It was barely a flicker. Her eyes started to drip more tears even though they were already scratchy and reddened. "Don't touch me, Benedikt," she said in a raw voice. "I don't know if I can stop draining."

A hand rested on her back and energy flowed into her, fading the exhaustion that was crushing her. It wasn't Kája or Benedikt. It was a calm, steady person, without any magical inclination or a spellguard's training. It reminded her of Devyn. She flinched away from the hand and rolled over to see a stranger kneeling at her side. He offered her a small smile. "Hello."

Kája sat down beside the half-elf. "'Tis fine, Iona," the spellguard said. "This is Ciar, a Yssan sage bound for Zaeylael. We have been traveling with him for about two days now. Thou art in safe company."

"Safer than the guards get to have," she said bitterly.

Kája opened her mouth to speak and Benedikt frowned. "Allow me to be the unkind parent for a moment, Kája. Go take a walk with our scholarly friend."

The spellguard shook her head.

Benedikt sighed. "You can't say I didn't try the nice route." His eyes hardened and his voice lowered. "By the power vested in me by the High Král, I order you, Oikeíos Kája Chvátal, from my presence. I invoke the authority of all the Králové of the Zázemí before me. You may return in one hour's time." He flashed his signet ring meaningfully, knowing it was much more threatening than a sword. "She is not your mágissa yet, so you have no right to contest the order. Get out of my sight."

Kája tensed like she was going to stay, but Iona said, "It's okay. I'll be fine."

The spellguard nodded with narrowed eyes and stalked off into the woods with Ciar. She would stay nearby in case of danger, overlooking the road from Tamaris. She wasn't happy with it, but she couldn't fight Benedikt and Iona.

"Must we go through this odious self-loathing, my dear?" Benedikt said. "Those men you so grievously wounded were not harmless, innocent people who just happened to be walking by. They would have gleefully skewered us. What you did was no different than what a knight does on the battlefield. Would you condemn your charming brother for drawing a blade and killing under those circumstances?"

"It wasn't a blade. I hurt them worse than any blade can cut."

"You only say that because you are not acquainted with certain knives in this world," Benedikt said. "I know that were Kája here, she would say soft things and hold you and try to soothe your tedious self-doubts, but I refuse to allow you to be coddled. This is the real world. Magic is just a different kind of force and all force can wound. Your only fault here was a lack of control. Kája is confident that with practice, it will not happen again."