The TwiceBorn

This Language of War And Song

"Life is what it is about; I want no truck with death."--Neruda

Alora knew she had to get up but the refuge of Islinn’s arms felt too warm and safe to leave.  And quiet.  So very quiet.  Somehow, someway she had to find her way back. Back to where the words warm and safe were simply that; just words and not something needed especially by the likes of her. 

Warmth was in abundance when it came to the season they were in and safe was a word that existed in a world other than the one she inhabited.  And quiet?  Alora was afraid she’d never know what quiet was again, not once she felt the panic settling in on her to find a soul for Abigor.  Her mind would run her around in circles until she found someone.  Or found no one at all.

Slowly she sat up and found it difficult to meet Islinn’s eyes.  She wanted to take the girl and leave this place, take her far away from…what? That was the laughable crux of it all.  It wasn’t the town or the people or the situation at hand.  It was her. It was what she was that was going to cost Islinn everything.

“Alora? Are you all right?”  Islinn asked, her eyes worried.

Alora nodded and wiped her hand across her face, ashamed of her tears.  One of them had every right to cry and it surely wasn’t her.

“Yes,yes I’m fine.  Just…very tired.  It was a long night.  Did anyone bring you water? Food?”

The girl shook her head.

“No.  No one brought your coin either.”

Alora nodded. A part of her mind was not surprised at all.  Hadn’t she expected that? On top of everything else that was unexpected, there was a strange sense of comfort in knowing Darius would try to squirm out of the payment. 

Her anger, never tired and always ready, was right there but the rest of her was simply in no condition to follow suit.  Huge drums thumped their beat against the confines of her head and her limbs felt as though they were made of water.And she still had so much work to do.

“All right.  I need to go downstairs and I’ll tell them to bring some food and water up for you.  I may be a little bit though.”

She paused and looked at the girl.  Her eyes suddenly burned and she knew if it wouldn’t cost her any extra effort, she’d break down in tears again. But now, she was simply too tired. 

She took in Islinn’s worried eyes, the tousled hair.  The fading bruises on her face.  And all of it told her that her love was far from perfect, it was as tainted and black on the outside as she was on the inside.  A passing thing not of fire but of ash. 

It was all she had to offer and yet it ran deep, down through the earth and bedrock of herself and her mere borrowing of bones.  It wasn’t her choice or her desire, because she knew she was nothing but a dark thing offering her parody of love but it felt real to her. That was all that mattered.

Gently,she reached out and took Islinn’s hand and lightly traced her fingers over the lines of her palm.

“When I’m done downstairs, I need to ride back out to the Hag’s camp,” She said softly.  “But I won’t be long, I promise you that.  And then you and I are leaving here.  And we’ll go where ever you want to go.  Is that all right?”

There was a pleading tone to Alora’s voice.  She heard it and knew Islinn would hear it as well.    

“I don’t care where we go, Alora.  I just want to go with you.”  Islinn replied.

Alora nodded. 

“You mean that don’t you?  Every word of it.”  She looked up quickly, and assessed Islinn’s expression.  She came up empty and the strange sorrow she felt took a deeper hold.