Fionn was sitting in a dip in the earth, partially hidden from the path, one hand playing with the yellow dirt. Osheen had left Coo on the bench, watching Bran and Sceolan. He figured the dogs could take care of themselves; they were the size of ponies.
"Hey," Osheen tried to get Fionn's attention. He picked his way down the slope. Fionn didn't look at him.
"Why didn't you say anything about your mother?" Fionn asked him, watching the wind in the small, determined pines.
"I didn't remember until then. I thought she just came back, and I didn't remember that part, because I know I was raised by a woman who acted like a mother. But I know she left."
Fionn rubbed his eyes.
"Do you remember?"
"Yes." Fionn suddenly pitched forward, irritated. "I remember them both. I remember why you had to leave."
Osheen felt cold. He sat down in the grass by the older man and took out a pencil, turned to a new page. He waited, listened to the wind that promised rain was coming. Fionn pushed the book away.
"You were both... you could just never be left alone. She could be safe with me, but there was a man who was hunting her. And I had to go, and I wasn't there. And she was made to go because I was gone."
"Dad."
Fionn blinked, but didn't look over. "And I was there for you, and I just let you go."
Osheen sat dumbly for a moment, not feeling the paper or pencil in his hands. They felt the wind in their hair, until a few raindrops fell from the sky. They walked back together. Osheen wished he knew what he was talking about.
YOU ARE READING
Turas
FantasyThe storm was what woke them, the wind screaming and the icy rain tearing them apart as the sky split with lightning. Two men, Finn and Osheen escape the storm without knowing where they are, or even who they are. As pieces of their pasts emerge, t...
