From Ashes and Snow

Turning Westwards.

Chapter 40: Turning Westwards.

A chord struck up in the tavern.

A breath.

A pause.

Then, a warbling voice began to sing. Fast and joyful was the tune as it spilled out across the room like the tankards knocked by flailing hands. That same music seeped out onto the streets where the party continued under the silver light of the moon.

My hair tumbled down my back, unbound save for two clips that Fyr had lent me to keep the hair from my face. Smiling lazily, I watched my friend as he sat there in gaze, surrounded by people congratulating him. We had spoken only briefly after he had been made Commander before he had been swept away and I let him have his time, content to watch everything and to flit between conversations like a bee seeking the perfect flower.

The celebrations stretched from one end of Haaling to the other. How could they not? When Atoll was haughty, according to Gwen, for the ordinary people of Haaling and the tavern was too small for all the Captains and the celebrants.

Children ran past the open doors as I wandered out into the night. Fire danced on my palms and they paused for a moment, entranced by the flickering silver before racing off again down a torch-lit street. Their laughter echoed in the night, shrill above the music. People raised their mugs to me as I passed, dipping their heads or calling out my name.

Only when the people grew sparse, did a familiar voice call out to me. "You picked well, Aviana."

I pivoted and smiled at Kohen. He wore fresh, well pressed clothes and his jaw was freshly shaven. That long, fine hair had been braided by Fyr's hand and he seemed content.

"I should know that I shouldn't have to rely on you to tell me that, but thank you, Kohen. I hope I did."

He tilted his head. I had given him oils for his tail, to smoothen down the stubborn furs and I noticed that he had tried at least to use it. I bit down a smile and met his eye.

"You know Greydon very well. Mahon trusts him explicitly. Even if I could not see into his head, I would have known that he was a man of valour. Of merit. He has the same spirit that Commander Whitely had. Vossen, even before that Nirani had latched onto him, was a weak and hateful creature."

"He's a good man. He has a good heart but can he..." a lump hardened in my throat as I imagined that bright, smiling face growing sour, pinching in annoyance as the pressures bore down on him.

"He will harden, but he will not bend. Greydon was not like you or me. He grew up, dancing amongst hidden words and sheathed daggers. Just because his belly was full at night and his parents had money just means that he faced a different kind of challenge."

"He doesn't seem like that kind of man."

"Because the Paladins gave him the freedom he longed for. But do we every forget the lessons learned in our youth?"

There had been many lessons for me. Lessons beaten into me by adults and by street-children. Lessons I had taught myself as I fell doing something foolish, or because I would not back down. Do not trust humans. I had latched onto that, because they had been violent, while the Elves ignored me like I was shit on their boots.

"You can overcome it. I do not think it can define you forever."

"I know." Kohen tipped his face up to the skies, letting the cold wind bite at the exposed skin. "I used to be hateful. Violent almost. The world was too much and I was slipping, wishing I could silence the memories and the thoughts that ran through uncontrolled. I hated being a Zentin. I hated feeling everyone's pain. Why did I have to endure what they did aswell? I wanted to be ignorant and deaf like everyone else."