Descendants of the Kings (Book 2)

Ch 61.2: Guiding light

When he emerged, lifting his face from his knees, his eyes were bloodshot, his skin pale and streaky. It made Ella's heart lurch like she'd been punched in the chest.

"Excuse me," he muttered, his voice thick and bleak. "I ought to be better at managing my emotions after all this time. It's been... it's been over fifteen years. Plenty of time to compose myself. But every time I try to speak of it..." a stiff shrug. "I realise I am not as in control of my grief as I'd like."

"Is anyone ever?" Ella asked sadly. She brushed his hair out of his eyes, running cool hands over his hot, clammy skin. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. "There is no time frame for grief, I think. No rules for it. You manage it the way you can. You shouldn't blame yourself for how you mourn. You shouldn't blame yourself for feeling pain. I think... I think it is simply another aspect of love."

She paused, trying to word her thoughts. As she did, she guided Aedion into laying back down, carding her fingers through his hair. Slowly, she could feel the tension leaving his body, his frame relaxing.

"You loved Annie so deeply. Your grief is just another way of expressing it," she said slowly. "It is also what gave you the strength to get help. To get better. Your love for her. I think... I think it is the core of who you are. What guides you. She is still your light."

Aedion made a noise in the back of his throat. He held her free hand and gave an answering squeeze.

"I feel that way, too. That she guides me. Everything I do is to make her proud. Well, sometimes I don't quite manage it," a wry half-smile. "But I try. I try to live my life in a way that honours her."

"Is that why you started helping all those girls?" Ella asked quietly.

A short nod. "I'll admit it didn't start as something selfless. I didn't seek to help people at first. I just wanted revenge," Aedion admitted. "I wanted them to pay for what they'd done. I wanted them to suffer. That was all that mattered to me."

Ella nodded. She could understand that. Perhaps that rage was the only thing keeping him alive, once. The all-consuming bloodlust, telling him he needed to live until he'd brought his sister justice.

"My healer, she wanted me to find healthier ways to cope with my emotions. However, I don't think hunting down my sister's killers was what she had in mind," Aedion chuckled darkly.

"She was probably thinking more along the lines of taking up pottery or birdwatching," Ella hummed.

"Surely. But I couldn't stop thinking of it. It consumed my every waking thought. Imagining all the ways I would make them suffer before killing them. I devoted my time to finding them, to following the trail they'd left behind. I felt in my bones that Áine would only rest once I avenged her."

He paused, rubbing his mouth. "I knew about the Vale, even if I'd never been. Everyone does. It is something of a legend. But we know it abstractly, the same way you think of old stories of mythical creatures. It is impersonal because it doesn't seem real. It doesn't affect most people, so it is easy to whisper about it, shrug it off and continue on your merry way. But seeing it up close..." he shook his head.

"The more I investigated, the more I realised just how deep it all ran. The indentured slaves, the flesh trade. The dirty gold exchanging filthy hands. All the people in power purposely turning a blind eye, because it filled their coffers, because it benefited them."

His gaze was clouded, perturbed. His mouth lifted into a sneer, fists coiling in his lap.

"I saw those brothels. The bleakness in the air, so strong it choked you. The despair in their eyes. I saw my sister in everyone there. And... I couldn't do it. I couldn't simply stand aside and continue to let it happen. If I wanted to truly lay my sister to rest, I realised I needed to do something about what was being done. If not, I was complicit in an atrocity. I was no better than the flesh traders."