The Last Red Year

SIXTEEN: The Other Side of the Sky

 They don't look back.

They untie their horse from its tree and throw themself onto it, leaning forward as they steer through the forest around the far edge of Tenacitas. They burst through the pass between the hills, trying as hard as they can to focus on anything except what just happened. It's their fault. They know it's their fault. They chose to come back. They were stupid enough to think they could reason with Isri. Now, because of them, because they were too blinded by their love for their sibling to realize they were beyond saving, Hadling is dead.

It plays out in front of them a million times as they ride as fast as they can out of Tenacitas, so much slower than it really happened, as if time is warping around them. They see it all. The glint of Mirei's dagger as in one swift move, they plunged it into Hadling's throat. The bright red of their blood, the way it spat out of their neck like water from a fountain, staining dark against their emerald robes, pooling around them on the cobbled street in a scarlet halo. What sticks most is their eyes. The way the green flames that danced in their vision went dark like a candle being blown out, fading into a dull hazel. When it happened, it lasted for no longer than a second. Kas turned and ran. But the flicker of the rain barrier mirrored in Hadling's dull, dead gaze replays in an infinite loop in their mind. They can't stop seeing it. They don't know if they ever will.

First Callocast. First Fisher Mannecky and Tallin and everyone else they knew before the Mages came. Now Hadling, too. All they can do is bow their head and pray that at least Kizlane is safe.

"Kas!" someone calls against a harsh wind from the north--they recognize the voice. Sorine?

"What are you doing here?" they shout back, turning their horse to ride in Sorine's direction. They and Mauragan are approaching from the north, Sorine's hair tied back in a bun to keep it out of their face. "I told you to stay behind!"

"We couldn't do it. Not knowing you were out here on your own!" As Kas blows past them on their own horse, Sorine and Mauragan fall into step after them. "What the hell is going on?"

"Just trust me!" Kas calls back, hoping their voice isn't lost to the wind. They can't explain it now. They just have to get out before Mirei and Ghiliss send their troops after them. They shouldn't know where they're going, yet, somehow, they know exactly what path to take. It's not instinct, not a feeling--more like they're watching someone else's memory, following a map that exists only in their own mind. Is this the route the old Red Mage took when they visited that princess from Cappbryde? They don't know. They don't know why they get flashes of Ashira's memories. They remember hearing in their History of Mages classes about dead mages who never truly died, whose minds lived on without their souls, lying dormant for centuries until being stuck like a burr to the first soul of their color that passed by their final resting place. But their soul is green, and Ashira's was red, and they don't hear voices in their head or find their body under someone else's control or feel grief and love and heartache that doesn't belong to them. They have no sense that Ashira themself is still around. The memories are devoid of emotion, of attachment--they're just flashes of another time. More like peering into the past than into someone else's mind.

They turn their horse onto a road through the woods, riding east away from the sinking sun. They can't turn around, can't look at the warm light of the sunset without seeing the dull emptiness of Hadling's eyes as their blood drained from their body. They know it's their fault. Loyalty and love will only get you so far, Hadling said to them the day after the Fall Brawl. They were right. Loyalty and love brought them back to the Magescourt on a fool's errand. They thought they could change Isri's mind. They thought they could sway them, lead them onto the right path with their words and their reasoning and their love. But their twin, the Isri they grew up with, is long gone. As they grieve for their parent, for their home, and now for the mentor who might as well have been a parent too, they have to grieve for their sibling as well.