The General and the Princess

Chapter 15 || Kiva

The world was quiet. The only sound was the wind dancing with the leaves across the forest floor. Kiva exhaled quietly, slowly, peacefully. Her bow and quiver lay next to her, her slender sword attached to her waist. When Kiva had awoken from the night before, she could not shake his presence, so she had left the house, deserting the memories for the forest.

In addition to her bow and quiver, two dead grouse and a squirrel lay next to her. They had little meat on them in comparison to the hunger of the myriads of rebels, but Kiva hoped she could at least prepare some fresh meat for herself and Justyn.

Justyn. She could hardly comprehend the vision in the field she had seen last night. Alleyni wanted to think that the crazed refugee girl had bewitched him, but she knew better. Justyn was not one to be swept away by the first pretty smile—other women had tried unsuccessfully, but it had only taken him one night to fall for this girl. The most steadfast person in her life, the one person she thought she knew, she thought would never leave, had changed in less than a day. Maybe I don't know him anymore or I never really did. For the first time, she had sat next to her brother and felt alone. He was the one person who had been able to break through the walls she erected around herself, but now even he had left her alone. I've been broken for too long. No one wants to try to heal someone whose wounds are only meant to be open. Years had passed, and had she healed? No. Perhaps Justyn was tired of trying, tired of being there for her when she awoke in the middle of the night screaming over and over and over again. Perhaps the redheaded girl wasn't broken, perhaps she was easier to love.

Kiva forced her thoughts to empty, emulating the forest around her. Void of voices and people, life seemed so much simpler here. Kiva wondered what would happen if she just ran off and left all of this behind. She wouldn't have to deal with Inver or the Lavri Resistance or any of it. Maybe if she ran away, her past would stay behind with her problems.

"Did you shoot these?"

Kiva pivoted immediately, startled to see Riyel standing behind her. Somehow, he had managed to sneak up behind her without alerting her to his approach. Kiva shifted a little, moving her bow and quiver as he sat down beside her. Kiva felt a shiver run through her as he sat next to her, remembering her vivid dream from the night before. But he did not touch her, and the comfortable amount of space between them set her at ease. Though Riyel was scarcely smaller than Inver in stature, he had a quiet peace that so inherently contrasted Inver's domineering strength. The peace shrouded an inner fire that somehow drew her to him rather than repelled her. She knew little about him, but for some reason, she knew he was safe.

He sat beside her, leaning forward and resting his arms on his knees.

"It's so quiet."

"What are you doing out here?" Kiva asked, smiling a little and trying not to be annoyed by the interruption.

"I like to be in the woods where I can actually hear myself think and not the voices of everyone else around me. I needed to walk and get away from everything."

Me too. Kiva let the silence linger, grateful that he did not try to fill the emptiness with meaningless words.

"Why do you come out here?" Riyel asked her after a while.

"When I'm back there, in the Resistance, the memories are there too. They walk with me and eat with me and sleep with me. Out here, well, there's nothing and no one to remind me. You're right, it's quiet here. It's peaceful." There was another long pause before Kiva spoke again, "What are you escaping?"

Kiva could see it in his eyes, the same look she saw in her own eyes when her face was reflected back in the buckets of well water she carried to the hospital. Riyel had his demons too. He started at her question, sitting up and turning to stare at her. Riyel's eyes danced a little at her question, and Kiva knew that she was right. She saw surprise at being so easily read and a flicker of fear.