II - Sigh of Smoke

Chapter 25 - I Am

-Aleksandra Bane-

 "Aleksandra."

The voice was a rumbling thrum in the earth, pervading through her flesh. It had been a long time, but she couldn't find it in herself to yell at the beast. Instead, she didn't even look his way, standing with the dry cool earth beneath her feet as a soft wind tousled her hair. It chilled her to the bone.

"Lorthrain," she answered, eyeing the display in front of her. She heard the beat of his wings and the scratch of his claws on the earth, even the itch of his stare on the back of her neck. Aleksandra felt his hot breath on her back, spreading to her fingertips like fire.

"You are... Disturbed?"

Her lips formed a sour smile. "Maybe."

Before her was a cart of people, there being a light-haired woman staring to the sky, and a strong man who carried a pitiful corpse of a being in his arms. There was a brown-haired boy—now a man—watching the corpse sleep. There were three strangers with them. One dark-haired lady with a blanket pulled to her chin, the round driver with a tenacious determination in his stare, and there was another man near the rear, smoking, the dancing whisps blurring his blue eyes. She couldn't smell the herbs that burned in the bowl of his pipe at all. The group seemed to be in movement, though slowed, racing towards a destination she couldn't see in the edges of her vision.

"Am I dreaming?" She asked, seeing the tear-stained girl in Lucan's arms. It isn't me. It can't be.

Lorthrain's silence did not aid the strange vice that had wrapped around her lungs. Her shoulders were locked, her breaths short, and now in the moonlight she could see just how ugly her Wielder's Mark was. It was inky and large, stretching to the point she couldn't tell where it ended on her neck. It was ugly. It was ugly, ugly, ugly—

"Aleksandra."

She jumped at Lorthrain's voice, feeling her nails digging into her palms. Wiping the sweat from her forehead, she stared down at the indents that had formed in her skin. Her nails were far too long now, so much so they had struck blood as if searching for water. But this was a dream. It wouldn't be there when she woke up.

"What is troubling you?"

Aleksandra shook her head. Saying it aloud meant she admitted it. "Nothing."

"Liar." She heard the rustle of wings as Lorthrain stepped closer to her, heaving a breath that seemed to set fire to the hearth in his lungs. The glow fell to the floor, causing her shadow to darken the earth.

"It's nothing." She insisted.

Lorthrain seemed to wait for her. His silence scratched at her back, irking her, and soon she gave in.

"What do you think they think of me?" She asked quietly, gesturing to the drowsy travelling party. "They saw me fighting that day. They saw me killing my own." A shiver danced down her back as she whispered harshly, "who did they see when they looked at me?"

"They saw you."

Aleksandra smiled humourlessly, straining against something she believed to be true. "That's exactly it. They saw me."

For a moment there was silence as she stared at how tense Lucan's shoulders were. His hands seemed to hover over her back, not close enough to touch. She vaguely remembered grabbing Dareon's hand, wondering just how strange contact was. Holding his hand seemed to make her realize that she was no longer in the dungeons of the Arena, that she was free, that she was saved and that the reality she had gotten used to was no longer an option for her.