Passenger

Chapter 19

The rest that day – and night – passed in tense silence for myself and Krys. The Avian had tried to talk to me several times since our little argument, but I ignored him each time.

Eventually he fell asleep, leaving me on my own. I glared at him while he slept for a few moments, then turned to look up at the sky.

I think the truth was that I wanted to be mad at him. I wanted a reason to doubt him. Up until now, Krys had been so kind and generous to everyone, myself included. No one could just be that nice, not naturally. Everyone had flaws, everyone had some sort of dark side, everyone had...scars.

My mind drifted into the past. A few years ago, back when I was alive obviously, there had been a rapid werewolf in the countryside around the capital. The guard had been having trouble tracking and dealing with it, so Rose, Sarah, and I had decided to take matters into our own hands. We snuck out, tracked it down, and fought it.

In hindsight, at least one of us should've died. Instead, we took the werewolf down, but not without a fight. It had clawed my back while I was trying to flank it, and I still remembered the pain of the wound. It had persisted for days, even with magical healing once my parents found out what we had done. and even after it healed, it had left three long, jagged, ugly red lines that ran from my left shoulder down towards my right hip.

Naturally, their majesty the king and queen weren't a fan of it. I like it. More than anything, to me they showed that I wasn't just some dainty princess up in a tower like in some fairytale. I was a fighter, someone that would and could get my hands dirty when I needed to. Most of the time the scar couldn't be seen when I was wearing a shirt or tunic, but I knew it was there. And that was all I needed.

So, yeah, I had an idea of what scars were like; I'd seen my own and others plenty of times. Which made me frown when I compared them to Krys' scars. My scars were jagged and discolored a little, standing out especially when I had a good tan or if it was in the right light. But Krys' scars were different. They were thin and ruler-straight, and so pale they were almost colored white. They weren't the kind of scars you'd normally get from a bad wound...but where else would you get a scar from, and that many as well?

My wandering thoughts were suddenly pulled back into the present as I heard rustling near me. Turning, I saw Krys was tossing and turning, squirming in his sleep. I caught a glimpse of his face and saw that his expression was scrunched up and troubled. I'd seen him try to sleep when he'd had nightmares before, but this looked worse.

I opened my mouth to speak. But I stopped myself. Why should I wake him? Let him stew in his guilt and problems for a night. Served him right. Maybe he'd be more willing to open up and talk about himself if he did.

But...

I sighed and shook my head. No. I couldn't do that, not to Krys. Maybe he was hiding something, but after all the kindness he had shown me...I just couldn't do that to him.

Floating over to the Avian, I sighed again. "Krys." I called, leaning down towards his ear. "Krys...hey, Krys! Wake up already!"

Okay, so it wasn't the nicest way to do it, but give me a break. At least I tried. Thankfully, it worked – Krys seemed to pause for a moment, then stirred, eyes fluttering open. "wh...what...no, no, don't..."

"Krys, it's me." I snapped my fingers in front of his face to get his attention. "wake up, you idiot. You're going to hurt yourself if you keep tossing around like that."

By now, Krys seemed to be entirely awake. He sat up and looked at me, rubbing his face. "sorry." He murmured, glancing away after a few moments. "I didn't mean to bother you."