Warmoon [ONC 2020]•[Shortlisted]•[Honorable Mention List, Stunning Worlds]

23. Cherry Blossoms

Total Word Count: 34,590

Rhoa tipped her head back and looked up through the branches of the ancient cherry trees arching overhead. Clusters of pale pink blossoms lined every twig, filtering the afternoon sunlight into motes and creating golden patches on the velvety, vibrant green carpet of grass beneath.

The scent of it was even better: rich, thawing earth, growing things, and the candy perfume of the cherry flowers. She closed her eyes, inhaling sweet spring air till her lungs couldn't hold any more.

Sarrie ran past her down the footpath, giggling and flapping a blue blanket from her arms like wings, flying toward Gran who was waiting in the kitchen garden with a hamper full of food.

For a moment, Rhoa thought she must be stuck in a dream, but nothing changed. The sun still shone bright, the breeze still stirred her hair, the sounds of Phane and Kry sparring on the lawn was still punctuated by birdsong. It was almost impossible to believe, but this was real. Throat thick, she hefted the pitcher of water and started forward again, her progress slow, her left arm occupied with the crutch.

Phane and Kry were circling each other in the training ring, both of them armed with longswords. They had been at it long enough to work up a decent sweat, and Phane's loose smock shirt stuck to his back. Kry, however, had stripped Isander's shirt off rather than soil it, and Rhoa gave herself a mental kicking as her gaze lingered a little too long on gleaming mahogany muscles and swirls of ink and copper.

She reached the blanket Sarrie was industriously spreading over the grass and put the water pitcher down on one corner, then busied herself with helping Gran set out the food from the hamper.

Laughter drew her attention to the ring in time to see her brother launch an attack, only to wind up beaten back by the Vanguard's efficient defense. The two weren't quite evenly matched. Phane was well-trained and had a few inches' worth of advantage, but Kry was more experienced and it showed. Rhoa's lips twitched into a grin. Phane had sand on the seat of his pants from falling on his backside a few times. There wasn't any dirt anywhere on Kry.

Rhoa had just eased herself down onto the blanket next to Gran when Phane caught sight of her over Kry's shoulder. There was a decidedly mischievous glint in her brother's eyes when he looked at Kry again. He grinned, leaned forward, and whispered something.

Kry glanced quickly in the direction of the kitchen garden, only for Phane to knock his blade aside and land a 'kill' blow to Kry's chest with a victorious cackle.

Shaking his head, Kry held up his hands and admitted defeat. Turning, he scooped Isander's shirt off the bench beside the training ring and pulled it on, then followed Phane toward the garden, the two of them trading good-natured insults.

Sarrie ran to meet them, grabbing Kry's hand and pulling him along, peppering him with questions as they came up the knoll to the edge of the orchard.

They seemed to be getting along well.

She was staring again. Rhoa ducked her head, looking down at the objects she had just pulled out of the hamper. The trenchers. She had the trenchers and she was supposed to be putting food on them.

With a sigh, she reached for the hamper again only to find Gran holding out the pipkin of boiled, salted barley – one of the staples the Vanguards had brought with them – while giving her a squinty-eyed, all-seeing stare over the top of the lid.

Rhoa took the pipkin. "What?"

"Oh, nothing," Gran said, still squinting. "You just haven't worn a dress in years."

"Well look who has decided to grace us with her presence," Phane called as they drew close. "And you even bathed!"

Rhoa rolled her eyes and stabbed a serving spoon into the barley, scooping it onto a trencher as Phane came to sprawl on the blanket next to Gran. She tried not to look up when Kry sat down to her left, concentrating instead on ladling stewed hare over the barley, while extremely aware of the warm, deep river of a voice beside her discussing life in the desert with her niece.

"There are lizards as big as a man, there. We call them rukaruk. They have spines as long as my arm, and they can eat a whole baby goat."

"Did you hunt them?"

"What, the rukaruk? Sometimes... And sometimes they would hunt you, if you weren't careful."

Silently, Rhoa handed Sarrie her plate of food, then offered Kry his.

Long brown fingers grazed hers as he took it from her. "Thank you," he murmured, giving her a slow, lopsided grin before Sarrie drew him back into her interrogation with a question about spiders.

Rhoa didn't say much, content to sit and listen, hiding a smile when the Vanguard tried to get Sarrie to think something was disgusting or scary only to find out the child was thoroughly fascinated with animals, the slimier and scarier the better.

Then, when the meal was over, he allowed Sarrie to tow him off again, this time to play chase with her little brother in the shade beneath the trees.

The afternoon sunlight was lovely, and after a few minutes Gran dosed off. Phane polished off a second helping of barley, then scooted over to sit next to Rhoa.

"You know, you could do much worse," Phane said quietly.

For a moment, Rhoa didn't respond. The Vanguard was sitting on a stump a few yards away, showing her nephew how to make a sound with a blade of grass between his thumbs.

"He's a good man, Rhoa."

"And? There are other good men. I doubt Father would understand," she said, looking down at her hands in her lap, not adding the end of that thought: if he returns. "Besides. It's not as if he's made some sort of offer."

Phane regarded her, then glanced around. "Well... There isn't much left to stay here for, anymore."

Lifting her head, Rhoa searched her brother's face. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know." Phane pursed his lips, his jaw tightening. He was being uncharacteristically serious, and a cold needle of worry threaded through her middle. It only grew colder when he continued. "There isn't any point in all of this. I've actually felt that way for a long time, but now..." He shot a look up at the empty space where the tower once loomed above the garden wall. "The Vanguard are leaving in a week, heading to the Tenth Sector to offer what help they can. A bunch of our people are going with them... Kry says they could use another fighting man and I'm thinking... I'm thinking maybe I'll go."

Rhoa took a breath. Let it out. Her gaze found Kry, her heart crumbling like so much parched earth. He was praising little Eiran's 'leaf music,' and letting Sarrie weave her favorite yellow ribbon through his braids. And he would be gone in a week.

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