Burned

Chapter Two

     “You’ve got to be joking,” Xantho said, his white eyes widening like round saucers. “You’re going home?”

    The sprite floated a foot off the ground, white kimono pulled tight around his childish body. His spikey white hair flew out as he bounced. Well, moved up and down in the air was more appropriate. He couldn’t really bounce if he was always floating.

    “Yes I am,” I sighed, loathing the thought.

    Going home was the last thing I wanted to do but I knew that I had to. With all that was happening, I had no choice.

    And I was no traitor.

    “But your father hates you.”

    He made it sound like it was the most obvious fact in the world—and it was. He really did hate me. His own son. But if my son had walked out on me and left me heirless…I couldn’t say I blamed him.

    I glanced down at the river. I wasn’t quite sure why I had come here, but I had.

    After Valin’s little icy frenzy, I talked Alric into taking me down Acheron and dropping me off in the Firen Lands. He’d agreed—but it was for a price. And I was almost positive my payment would come back to bite me in the ass.

    Returning to my homeland was strange. Very strange. It felt as if I hadn’t been there in a thousand years. And, to the fey, it probably already had been that long. We didn’t really have a concept of time since our personal lights never faded.

    The sky was painted vibrant shades of red and pinks and oranges and I stretched my hand out before falling back on the warm grass. It was just as vibrant a green as red was the sky. Water from the river lapped against the small shore every now and then and I found myself reaching out to touch it.

    I really wasn’t sure why I had come here. I should’ve gone straight to the castle. Confronted my father and demand my title be returned. He couldn’t exactly keep it from me. I was still his only son and child. There was no one to take my place.

    My eyes fell closed and I let out a sigh.

    I’d come to the joining river. It was the part of the fey lands that connected all the rivers which separated the lands in their respective six directions.  The lake that the waters spilled into was a few hundred feet and—from where I was—I could almost see the Icen Lands.

    “Jack,” Xantho whispered, hovering about my stomach, his face leaning close. “You miss her. I can tell.”

    “Of course I do,” I said softly, climbing to my feet. “I miss her every day.”

    I stuffed my one of my hands into my pocket and crossed to the lake. The water on my end was crystal clear and beautiful. The sight of the lake shifted from land to land but you were always able to the other lands.

    Somehow the rivers cut the lands in such small slivers that you were able to see each one—at least a little. Across the small lake I saw the rock that stood out against the snowy ground of the Icen Lands.

    My eyes fell a little and my heart ached.

    God, did I miss her. Her smile. Her touch. Her laughter. I missed the small sounds she would make when I kissed her. The way her hands would tighten in my hair when I pressed her body closer. The way her lips touched my flesh.

    I closed my eyes, my entire body clenching. I could feel the tears that filled my eyes but I wouldn’t let them fall. I had let her go. I’d forced her spirit from this world. It was on my hands.