The Remembered (Elements II)

Chapter 42

The room was silent for a long time, the king not moving. He didn’t want to leave the comfort of the study, small as it was. Quiet sounds came from behind him, but he didn’t turn around, merely assuming that it was one of the many servants just cleaning the room.

“Are you ever going to move?”

He jerked in shock and swung around. He knew that clipped singsong voice like he knew his own, and stared at Isla. She smiled at him, quite content with making herself comfortable on the chair Korith had vacated.

“Isla?”

“Who else, little king? Korith told me you had questions. What would you like to know?”

He sighed, dropping into his seat once again. “I want Cat back home,” he said, his voice muffled against his hands as he buried his head in them. “I feel so lost without her, Isly. It’s strange.”

“She will be home soon. She’s missing you just as much.”

He lifted his head, looking at her. “Why did you take her away from me?” His voice was pleading, almost childish, and her expression softened. She came around his desk, perching on the edge of it, and smoothed back his unruly hair.

“She was scared, fy bachgen,” she said softly. “Come, you can cry for her. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, fy annwyl.”

He hesitated, but the offer was too much, and he closed his eyes, leaning into her hold. A tear slipped down his cheek, but she just held him, rocking him slightly, crooning softly under her breath.

He cried into her dress for a while, wishing his sister was back. They’d never been separated before, and they’d grown up much closer than other siblings. The king and queen had done that for them, at least.

“Isla, please.”

He looked up at her, at his surrogate mother, wiping his face. “I need her.”

“I know.” She handed him a tissue. “Blow.”

He obeyed without thinking. “When?”

“When she is ready. She’s scared, Pablo. She’s only fifteen, and the men hurt her when they beat her.”

He swallowed, his eyes wide. “They what?”

Her green gaze was level. “They beat her, bach brenin. There is a reason the vines won’t loosen.”

He swallowed again, drawing away from her. His already pale skin was paler, his eyes standing out brightly. “Did…did they do anything else?” His voice broke halfway through.

Isla shook her head, and he visibly relaxed. “No. She’s fine, Pablo. Just scared and bruised. She wants to come home, and she will be soon. I can promise that.”

He hugged her tightly, as tightly as he once had when he was a child. “Isly, I don’t know how I can thank you.”

She returned the hug, smoothing his hair back. “Find the men guilty, bach brenin. That is all I ask. They cannot be allowed to do it again.”

He nodded immediately, drawing away. “I will,” he promised, and took her hand. “Will you stay for a while, Isla? Please? I’ve missed you.”

Regret shone in her eyes. “I can’t, Pablo. My son needs me.”

Disappointed, but the habits of his childhood were still strong in him, and he didn’t protest. “Okay.”

She smiled, reaching over to clasp his shoulder. “Soon,” she promised. “I will return to both of you soon. Our land is much more stable now, and I can leave it for longer periods of time. Just a little more, and it will be as it should be. Then, I will stay with you again.”

“Do you know how much longer it will be?” He tried to sound hopeful, tried not to sound like he was looking for information, but it obviously didn’t work, for her eyes grew cool, closing him out. He hesitated before speaking again. “Isla, I…”

“Enough, Pablo. All you need to know is that it will happen. What we do is none of your business.”

He sighed, looking down at his hands. “Yes, Isla.”

She left her perch, moving towards the door to leave him. He reached out to her, getting to his feet.

“Isla! Do you know how long it will be?” Helplessness and pleading here in his eyes. He was truly lost without his sister.

The elemental turned to look at him, studying him. “No,” she said softly. “Everyone heals at different rates, fy brenin. She will come when she is ready.”

He nodded, watching her go. The underlying message was clear to him. Her world would heal in its own time, and so would she.

Translations:

Bach brenin – little king

Fy brenin – my king