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The bright orange flames flickered in the slight breeze, dangerously close to ebbing completely. The fire had had a good run, burning fervently for most of the evening and well into the night, doing a spectacular job of keeping their circle warm.
The younger ones in their group had gathered round in the early evening, their bellies full of lentil soup and flatbread, eager to hear their nightly tale. They’d become so accustomed to it, the questions would start as soon as dinner was served, their mothers trying to hush them and eat the food before them.
“Can we hear the story about the Martial who fought his own kind to help the Scholars?”
“No, I want to hear about the girl who saves her best friend from The King with No Name!”
They’d started bickering amongst themselves, silenced only by stony faced glares from their mothers, with the silent threat they’d be made to go to bed straight after dinner and there would be no chance of hearing any tale if they kept squabbling.
It had quietened down quickly after that.
That had been hours ago. Now, Elias sat on the edge of the fire, on the furthest side away from where the wagons had been stationed, watching it as if it held the answers to all the burning questions he had. Questions for his best friend, Helene, for Laia, for the woman who had birthed him; Keris.
“Coin for your thoughts?” the slightly flirty tone of Afya Ara-Noor called out beside him. She strolled towards him, her braids, barely visible due to the silky wrap tied around her head. The print was vibrant, barely visible in the low light, the colours clashing with her dark hair but adding to her beauty nonetheless.
Elias smiled sardonically. His mind flashed back to a night long ago, when Afya had given him the aforementioned coin, recognising him despite his attempt at disguising himself. He’d been troubled back then too, but a part of him would give anything to be back there, facing the predicaments he never thought would spiral this far beyond his control.
“I thought you’d have learnt to keep a tighter rein over those,” he answered, flashing her a quick smile though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Afya shot him a look, heavily laden with meaning. There was no need for an articulated response, he’d understood the meaning the look was meant to convey, looks that had become more frequent in the past few days.
They sat in companionable silence; he with his eyes closed, her darting cautious glances his way, both listening to the melody of the forest.
He’d done this every night for the past week. It meant he was exhausted throughout the day, snapping occasionally, but better that than trying to sleep for longer than a few hours, only to be tormented by the horrors he blamed himself for.
“Elias…” she started. He ignored her, choosing to focus on the dying flames of the fire, half-tempted to prod the sticks with a larger one to keep it going.
She fell silent, their synced breaths heavy with words unsaid.
There was a snap of a branch; the sound reverberating in their partially enclosed camp. Both their heads snapped towards the sound, eyes peeled for the slightest hint of movement.
Elias was poised to spring, knees bent, no longer resting on the log he’d been sitting on. They waited a few minutes and when it became clear nothing dangerous was coming their way, Elias relaxed and took his seat on the once-again cold piece of wood.
Afya had used those tense minutes of silence to gather a boost of courage, clear from her posture as she turned to face him. She remained standing, her petite frame barely blocking his line of sight.
“Are you going to talk to her?” she cuts straight to the point. He remained silent, his jaw clenched slightly tighter than it had been when she had first joined him by the fire. “Don’t you think she deserves the truth?” she continued, unperturbed by the lack of an answer.
“Don’t you deserve the truth?” She doesn’t let his silence bother her, her tone was sharp with the words meant to cut.
He breathed deeply, trying to block out the sound of her voice, choosing instead, to focus on the silent sounds of the forest.
“I know it has absolutely nothing to do with you.” His voice is cold, unsurprisingly, he has reverted to the tone he’d loathed to use as a mask.
“Skies, and here I was thinking you were a little more emotionally mature,” her tone is sharper still.
“You think far too much of me,” his answer is sarcastic, belying his annoyance at having to answer her incessant questions.
He continues to stare, no longer at the flames, instead at the wagon twenty yards to the left of it.
It’s painted beautifully, swirls of green and gold meeting in the middle and splitting to different hues. The green is barely visible, blending well into the darkness while the gold swirls are illuminated radiantly by the flames.
The stars above glistened, scattered across the night sky like tossed diamonds.
They had considered placing torches around the perimeter but had quickly decided against it for fear they would be more easily spotted should the Martials manage to catch a whiff of their trail.
Elias’s eyes were filled with an unspeakable sorrow, his mouth formed into a hard line. Afya could barely hear his breaths, despite being less than three feet away and it wasn’t for the clenching of his fists, she would assume he’d turned to stone.
“Talk to her, Elias. You don’t have to go through this alone.” Her voice had a hint of pleading in it, an undercurrent of anguish.
They’d grown closer over time; there was no other choice. Since she’d agreed to help them and he’d been adamant in keeping his distance from Laia, they’d formed a bond of sorts.
Tonight had been the first time she had voiced her thoughts though and if Elias knew anything it was that she wasn’t going to give up.
He shook his head, both to clear his mind of the thoughts of Laia asleep in the wagon, her hair coming free of her usual braid, and in answer to Afya.
‘If you care for her, you’ll stay away.’
‘Do you want to spend your last days alone ?’
‘You’ll only bring her more pain. Another person she’ll lose.’
‘Aren’t a few moments of happiness worth it ?’
‘Stop being so selfish, always thinking of yourself.’
‘Is it selfish to lo-care for her ?’
The voices in his head had started again; it had become a daily struggle, one he was sure he would be the cause of losing his sanity any day now.
“I can’t…” his voice was a whisper, full of misery, his eyes downcast.
A myriad of emotions flickered across Afya’s face and with lightening quick reflexes, she grasped Elias’s hand in both of her own.
“Have faith,” she whispered. “Bleeding skies Elias, I’m hardly a sucker for romance but what I see is two people, inexplicably bound but allowing their own misguided notions of principles keep them apart.”
Afya stared at him, willing the words to penetrate the bubble he’d formed around his common sense.
He began to relax, releasing a deep breath through his mouth, his hand loosening within hers.
The sound of a door rattling whipped their heads around to the wagons. It creaked slowly, and a figure wrapped in a woollen cloak stepped down.
Laia.
Afya dropped the hand she’d been holding but it was too late. Laia’s golden eyes had caught sight of their hands intertwined, their breaths almost mingling. She quickly averted her eyes, but not before Afya caught the look of hurt flashing across her face.
Afya watched her step behind the wagon and make her way to the makeshift latrine they had set up.
Elias had seemingly frozen in his seat, his eyes unblinkingly following Laia’s steps.
“Elias…you have to talk to her. Tell her it isn’t what she thinks. Tell her how you feel.”
He nods, dumbfounded, his eyes focused on the spot where Laia disappeared from view.
With a final squeeze of his shoulder, Afya stepped away, still unsure whether she had made a difference, and headed towards her own wagon.
Dawn was a couple of hours away. It was best to leave Elias alone to deal with Laia.