Elven Legacy

Chapter 134

Noah

He had let Fenek guide him away from the others. From everything. It was what Noah wanted, anyway. Maybe Fenek just knew. He needed to be far away from people right now. But Fen was different, Noah was grateful for his presence.

They'd wandered toward the south, and now they sat perhaps a mile and a half away from everyone else, down the slope of a small hill and facing the rows of bright green vineyards that spread out before them as far as their eyes could see.

At some point, rays of sunlight wrangled free from the barrier of clouds and came to warm Noah's tired body. It didn't last long, though, and it didn't do much to alleviate the icy chill in his bones. His heart felt like a lonely lake with poisonous black stones sinking in. No one would ever come to fish them out, the lake would never heal.

And he kept wondering if this was how Kili had felt, after Seraph died.

Noah let out a strangled moan as he ran both hands harshly through his hair, tucking his face in his knees. How fucking ironic that he could finally understand her, now. Now of all times.

Is this why she did it, then? So I'd understand her pain and suffering?

A stupid thought. He was hurting and his rambling mind was making shit up. For all her shortcomings, Kili would've never done something like this for such a petty reason.

No, she'd really believed she was doing the right thing. He'd seen it in her eyes. She'd decided, all on her own, that this – the whole frantic endeavor, removing all demons from the world forever, sacrificing herself in the process – was her redemption.

Maybe that was why it hurt so fucking much.

I should've known.

And there it was. The guilt, the regret, the pointless what-ifs. All the things he could've done, all the things he could've said. All the questions he'd never get to ask. Gods be damned to hell, but he'd thought that . . . that they still had so much time.

He shuddered and winced, like the buffeting wind was not air but something raking him with fangs and knives. He choked on a sob, and the next thing he knew, he was leaning on Fenek.

Fen was holding him with one arm, so that Noah could cling to him and rest his head on his shoulder. For some reason though, Noah couldn't cry. It wouldn't come out. His pain was a massive cavalry charging on closed gates.

He moaned again with how much it hurt, and part of him couldn't help but feel grateful that Fenek couldn't hear. Which reminded him of something.

Noah pulled away and shifted to the side so he could face Fenek, searching his sorrowful dark brown eyes. It's time. Why wait any longer?

But before Noah could start to move his hands, Fen signed, "I just can't believe she's actually dead." His hands flipped from one side to the other as the expression on his face became dejected and lost. "I don't understand what happened."

Weary dread froze Noah's heart. How could he begin to explain? Fenek knew some things about his past, sure, and about the catalyst, but he didn't know all of it. He sure as hell didn't know enough.

It would take hours. It would take a kind of energy he didn't have right now.

Thankfully, Fen seemed to get it. "You don't have to explain everything now, it's all right." He had one palm flat and his other hand like a blade chopping across it.

Relief soaked Noah. His hands moved to confirm, "I'm not ready. But I will tell you the whole story. I promise. I want you to know . . . about her, about me . . . Because you're my brother."