Blood Memories [Last of Elves book 1] (NaNoWriMo 2014)

Sixty: Kuraĝon

Kuraĝon

For a long time, she couldn’t bear to leave the cottage, not even to keep him in her sight. She was scared, petrified that the priestess’ warriors would find them and drag them away.

As a few weeks passed, though, and no one came, she began to relax more, venturing out into the sun, often finding herself standing on the banks of the Sae, watching the once more powerful waters as they surged and tumbled on their way to the ocean once again. She had no doubt that it was the sacrifice of her brother that had restored the land. She knew the old legends, the tales that spoke of sacrifice and plenty. There were so many ways the tales could be interpreted, but she had never heard of the sacrifice of love.

She knew full well that the priestess had loved him, and he her. she’d seen their expressions, but she’d never questioned her brother. After all, he was so much older than her. and she truly thought that he deserved it. he’d given up so much for her and their family. He’d had to leave them, to keep them safe.

She’d never forgiven her older brothers for forcing him to leave.

“Little sister?”

She turned her head, feeling with surprise the tears that were dripping down her face. She wiped them away, only slightly embarrassed, and looked back at the Sae.

“You gave her up.”

He joined her, but sat down near her, leaning back against the tree. Vakt was with him, and the baby beastkin kitten gambolled over to press his head against her thigh, nearly toppling her as he rubbed, purring madly. She smiled, scratching his head.

“Good boy,” she murmured, and then looked at her brother. “Ali?”

He heaved a sigh, not returning her gaze. He fiddled with the grass, picking the blades and beginning to weave them as he spoke. “Yes,” he finally answered. “I did. It was the only way to save her people.”

“And us?”

“There is only us, Kura. I knew you would hate to stay there. I was watching for you. I wasn’t ever too far from you.”

She dropped to sit beside him. “The … the legends,” she began, watching him as he deftly wove the strands of grass. She couldn’t work out what he was making, but she would know soon enough.

“Yes? What of them?”

“They’re always talking about sacrifice. Why did the elders always assume it meant death?”

“It was death, Kura. The death of a loved one, and of love. She believes I am dead.”

“But you’re not.”

He shot her a quick grin. “I should hope not,” he answered cheekily, but the fire in his eyes was gone.

He’d truly loved the priestess.

The realisation made her look away, tears pricking her eyes again. He’d given the priestess up for her, and she felt guilty about it.

“You can go back to her, Ali,” she muttered, hating what she was saying. But she knew that she had to give him the choice.

“Kura.” His hands paused in their work, and lifted her chin, making her look at him. “Don’t be guilty.”

She sniffed, pulling away. He always knew what she was thinking. “But … you left her for me.”

“because you’re my family, little sister. You’re the only family I have left.”

“But … but you love her.”

“Yes. And I always will. But she is strong – she can handle the grief. You need me more.”

Vakt plodded over, throwing himself in her lap with a grunt of satisfaction, and soon his purrs filled the air. They both smiled, and Ailill returned to his weaving. She watched, fascinated, as the shape of Vakt began to appear, his mischief and playfulness cleverly captured in the green blades of grass.

“It’s so cute, Ali.” Entranced she held out her hand, and he gently placed it on her palm when he was done. “How do you do it?”

He just smiled, leaning his head back. “Practice, little sister. Lots of practice.”

She studied it, not watching the river, but her brother’s next words proved that he was.

“The river will be full for many years to come.”

She looked up. “Really? How do you know?”

He glanced at her, a light twinkling in his eye. To her dismay, it still wasn’t the fire that had once lit his eyes. She wasn’t sure if she would ever see that again – unless he returned to the priestess.

“Next winter will be cold,” he mused, softly, no longer looking at her. “Heavy snows, and dry winds. We’d best make sure we’re stocked up for it.”

“It is because of the sacrifice?” she guessed.

He nodded. “Yes. The land has been renewed. The goddess is happy once more, and the earth still has the guardians. We are still alive, and there is nothing that can hold us back now. We are vital.”

“How vital?” She was almost scared to ask, almost scared to hear the answer. She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer.

He told her anyway, bluntly and to the point, as he always was.

“If we die, the earth dies.”