I still remember the day the royal guards came to our old home with a letter. I had just visited my brother for the Winter Solstice. Our house was decorated with bundles of red, orange, and gold strips of paper, an old custom from when people believed that they scared away the god of cold winds due to their resemblance to fire.
"You open it," said Kurie from the couch. He pushed himself off the cushions to face me, wincing. "I..." He inhaled sharply, stifling a moan. "...I just finished healing someone. One of my biggest jobs yet. A giant sledding accident at the Mound." He smiled for a split second, but that seemed to hurt him as well.
"Okay," I said. I opened the door, and four guards were right outside the threshold in a square formation. The one on the left handed me a letter. Stamped with Askare's face. I turned the envelope around. His real signature, handwritten in ink. Holy shit.
I carefully peeled off the wax and opened the envelope as if it were going to tear itself into a million pieces at the slightest touch.
I pulled the letter out. "Hey, Kuku. Want me to read it for you?"
"Yeah," he said through a grimace. "That would be great."
"Dear Kurie and Ari Hotan, our deepest condolences at the..."
"'At the what? Why did you stop reading?", asked Kurie from across the room.
"The passing on..."
"Riri? What's going on?"
"Jare Hotan..."
"Dad? Is he--"
"He's dead."
A silence fell over the room. The guards were still standing there, as solid and unmoving as stone. No doubt they had done this many times before.
Kurie got up from the couch, gritting his teeth and breathing heavily. "I..." A wave of pain rolled through his body. He clenched his fist. "I want to know what happened."
"Shipwreck," I said.
"I should have known," he whispered.
"I don't even know if I said 'I love you' before he left," I muttered.
"Why didn't I sense it before?"
"Why don't I remember if I said it?"
"The official funeral will be held two weeks from now in the palace courtyard," said one of the guards. "We hope you find the mourning period satisfactory."
Kurie looked up. I didn't know if he was crying from emotional pain or physical pain. "I just want to know one thing."
"Anything you need," said the guard.
"Did you find the body?"
"None of the bodies from the wreck were recovered." The guard squinted his eyes, the corners glistening with tears. Did he know someone who was on the ship? How many people died?
Kurie and I looked at each other, each one of us waiting for the other one to say something. But the silence permeated every inch of the home. The solstice decorations now seemed garishly bright. Kurie sat down again. I continued standing. And neither of us knew what to say.
"I know it must still feel weird for you," said Lera.
It did. We had to sell our old home after dad died; the benefit money we got from his death wasn't enough to pay the rent. Benefit money. As if anything could ever feel like a benefit. As if anything good could come out of this. We found a smaller apartment, but every time I entered it I still expected there to be Dad in a kitchen that wasn't too small to cook anything in. Dad in a living room with an actual bookcase instead of scattered stacks. Dad in his bedroom where it smelled like bergamot and dark chocolate.
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The Four Chimes
FantasyAri Hotan was never one for politics. Lera Taxas would rather be running her shop than fighting a tyrannical regime. But the king is dead, dark forces are rising, and no one seems to give a damn about it: except for them. So they fight. But will the...