Ashes of the Stars (4 page)

I took a slow deep breath as I tried to calm myself but I could feel the anger still simmering in my stomach. “Would you find it acceptable if people called you old man for your hair?”

Whitestrand surprised me by chuckling and shaking his head. “You are mistaken in your analogy for people
do
call me old man frequently.”

After a stilted silence, Whitestrand looked over his shoulder at his still frozen-with-shock comrades, and when he looked back at me he narrowed his eyes. “I believe we should take this conversation to our meeting hall, if you wouldn’t mind. Please, bring whomever you feel most comfortable with.”

I followed Whitestrand away from the meadow with only Finn at my side. I wasn’t sure if the other two ‘leaders’ were following, but when we got to a long building and entered, I heard two extra footfalls behind us. The room was a wide open space with a long wooden table and wooden chairs. Kieran, their leader, sat at the head of the table with his eyes locked on me. He looked almost as if he were in pain. Kai sat to his right and I tried to avoid his gaze, so I didn’t know what expression he was wearing, and Whitestrand sat to Kieran’s left. I sat at the opposite end of the table, directly across from Kieran, while Finn sat at my right.

We sat in stiff silence for a few long moments. I didn’t look away from Kieran’s penetrating stare. I couldn’t place the emotion or the expression on his face, but it was familiar somehow. Finn, true to being a Lieutenant, didn’t shift uncomfortably or make any other sign of impatience. Whitestrand finally opened his mouth to speak, but it was Kai who spoke first.

“You must have come from very far away, Captain Renault,” He said. His voice was deep and soothing, like the lullaby a loving father might sing to his child at night. It was like music to my ears.

“Not as far as you’d think,” I said, not wanting to give my home’s location away.

“Really.” Kai sounded mildly uninterested but he was staring at me as if I were a brand new gift to the world.

“You are not the first Legionnaires to come here and study us,” Whitestrand finally said. “Nor, I daresay, will you be the last.”

“And yet you still stand here. Why is that, I wonder?” I asked. I folded my hands together on top of the table and looked at the trio with curiosity.

“We are of neither the Clash nor the Legion, Captain,” Whitestrand answered. “We are the true peaceful people. We wish to wage war on none and we welcome all into our camp.”

“And yet,” I smirked. “It seems my question goes unanswered. How is it that war has not reached you?”

“War has reached us all,” Kai spoke so softly for a moment I thought no one had spoken at all. I knew I had when Finn finally turned his head to look at the other Lieutenant and when Whitestrand’s mouth popped open as if to protest but he’d changed his mind.

“I don’t understand,” I shook my head. “No one has attacked you? How long have you been in operation?”

“Of course
you
don’t understand,” Kieran finally spoke. His tone dripped pain but I couldn’t place where it would’ve come from. “You’ve lived a life of blood, that’s all you have ever seen. That’s all you remember. You couldn’t possibly remember a time of peace, of freedom.”

“Excuse me?” I narrowed my eyes at him.

Whitestrand cleared his throat. “I apologize, Captain. Kieran only means to refer to the lifestyle that war inflicts upon those who lead the front lines.”

Kieran’s lips tightened into a thin line and his shoulders tensed as if that wasn’t what he meant at all, but he didn’t respond. I kept glaring at him.

“We’ve been in operation for ten years, ma’am,” Whitestrand spoke again after a moment of tense silence. “We are forged of refugees from both sides. I, myself, was once a Zealot, as you call them, as was Kieran. Kai comes from the Legion. Here, we believe in laws to uphold the peace, but not breaking the spirit of humanity under such laws. We have freedom here, to pursue dreams, to live and love, to start families.”

“You operate under both ideals,” Finn finally spoke. It sounded like he was in awe that such a thing could exist.

“Yes,” Whitestrand answered in a revered whisper.

“And you have met with how many leaders like myself to explain this to?” I wondered.

“Too many to count,” Whitestrand answered.

I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. I felt exposed and raw under Kai and Kieran’s scrutiny. It was as if the blood I had shed covered me, made me the Reaper right in front of their very eyes.

“Forgive me,” I cleared my throat, “I do appreciate your meeting with me, but are you this camp’s spokesperson, Whitestrand?”

“Not usually, ma’am, no,” He answered with eyes shifting to his partners.

“Is this typical behavior of your comrades?” I nodded at Kieran and Kai.

“No, ma’am,” Whitestrand said after a moment of hesitation.

I nodded thoughtfully and after another moment of silence, I stood up from my chair. The wood made a scraping sound that echoed around the room. I stood rigidly with my arms straight at my sides. “We’ll take our leave and go in peace. Thank you for your time. May you continue without your war.”

“It’s
your god damn
war,” Kieran finally snapped. I could tell it was coming, everyone could. He slammed his closed fists down on the top of the table and shot to his feet so abruptly that the chair tilted backwards and fell over with a clatter. “It’s not
my
war, it’s not
ours.
The Reaper? Are you fucking kidding me right now, Aili? The fucking
Reaper?”

It was as if the very air in the room stood still. No one dared to take a breath except for me. I could hear my breathing loud in my ears as it drowned every other noise out. My eyes were locked on Kieran’s. He was gasping for air as if his lungs weren’t filling up with it as if in a panic. I was vaguely aware of Kai and Whitestrand shooting to their feet. I couldn’t tear my gaze away from this man who I had never known.

“Fuck,” Finn sighed, standing up slowly. He swiped his hand across his face and backed away from the table. He had clearly also been waiting for something like this to happen, even though I doubted he could have expected this, his tone conveyed wariness.

“You know my name,” I said. It wasn’t a question.

No one spoke. I could feel the tension like it was living inside of this room, breathing, turning the air and wrapping its ghostly fingers around all of us, nudging us towards the edge of a precipice.

“Please.”

The plea came from somewhere else in the room, attempting to be the knife that cut the tension. I felt a warm hand on the back of mine and I snapped out of my daze. I looked over at Finn as if he were the Captain and I needed his direction or I would remain lost forever.

“Let go of your sword, Aili,” Finn whispered. I felt my other hand, the bones nearly ready to snap from the pressure of squeezing the hilt of my weapon; I hadn’t even been aware that I’d grabbed it. I tried to command my hand to loosen its grip and it took a few tries to convince my body to react, but with a scream of relief, my muscles unlocked.

“You understand,” Finn said to the trio as he grabbed my arm and pulled me forcefully away from the table. “Captain Renault is quite exhausted and wild with hunger, she meant no offense. We are deeply grateful for your time, gentlemen, and we’ll be on our way.”

“We can feed you,” Kai whispered, his tone as full of pain as Kieran’s expression. “You are welcome to stay in the comfort of our camp for the night.”

Finn, defeated, let his shoulders slump. I waited, I knew the snap was coming. I wasn’t sure if it was the lack of sleep or the misery of being haunted by ghosts catching up with me. I felt my sanity slipping away and this time Finn couldn’t react quickly enough. I jerked both of my swords free from their sheaths and bolted across the table. I noticed two things. First, the trio made absolutely no move to stop me or defend themselves, they didn’t even shift their standing positions. Second, I was not going to make it out of this room conscious. I knew it when I felt Finn’s big hand wrap around my ankle and then the table rose up to meet me.

Chapter Four

As I slept, I had the same nightmare. For the first time in two weeks I dreamt and it was as painful as it’d been as a child. I could feel my body thrashing in protest but I couldn’t wake myself up. I tried desperately not to see the boy as he died right before my eyes. I tried not to feel the stab of pure pain and panic as it filled my body. I tried not to feel anything.

When I finally woke up, I almost expected to be back at my house. I knew I wasn’t when I felt the sticky air around me before I even opened my eyes. I took a deep breath through my mouth and released the air through my nose. I felt no comfort from waking, the panic was still like a rock in my heart. My lungs still burned.

“Captain Renault?” An unfamiliar voice asked for me. I kept my eyes closed so that I could think clearly. There were three men. They ran a camp for refugees. They were peaceful people. One of them knew my name. Two of them seemed to have felt pain just looking at me.

“Captain, are you in pain?” The voice came again. I placed it this time. Whitestrand. He was the most obviously peaceful man of the trio.

“No,” I lied. I finally opened my eyes and saw a strange wooden roof over my head. The room was mostly dark, only the flicker of candlelit chasing away the darkest of the shadows. It was nighttime, how had that happened? I brought my hand over my face and groaned. The panic wasn’t dissipating. I needed Finn.

“Finn,” I whispered, my throat was hoarse.

“He’s sleeping. I’d like to speak with you, Captain, if you wouldn’t mind terribly,” Whitestrand said.

I shook my head slowly and sat up. My head was throbbing just over my temple on the left side. I tried to focus on the pain to distract myself from the fear.

“It’s important,” Whitestrand said softly. He stood up from a small table where he left a book open and walked over to my bedside. He poured me a small glass of water from a jug and held it out towards me peaceably. I took the glass without looking at him and took a small sip.

“You woke up screaming, that’s probably why your throat is sore. I’m not really sure you were even awake,” Whitestrand told me.

“I wasn’t,” I told him.

“Does that happen often?” He asked me.

“Not anymore.”

We were silent for what felt like a long time. After a few minutes, Whitestrand fetched a chair from the table and sat down right at my side. I didn’t want to speak about whatever he wanted to talk about. Maybe I was a prisoner of theirs now that I had tried to kill them. Maybe they would kill me here. Oh, how I would love to be rid of this pain.

“Kieran and I came from the same camp. We didn’t show up together here and make this place our home, but I came shortly after he and Kai created it. I knew him instantly; he’s only a year or two older than me, after all. I remembered him though we lost our childhood camp when he was eleven,” Whitestrand told me.

I knew what Whitestrand meant when he said they lost their camp. The Legion invaded and they burned their houses to the ground. Somehow these two had gotten away and remained free and alive this long. I wondered silently how long ago that was.

“I remember him when he was so young. He was wild, loved running free with no one to tell him what to do. He had a sister and she would follow him around like a puppy dog. She adored him. I always thought he hated her until that night. He protected her as if it were the only thing he’d ever known how to do,” Whitestrand told me in a soft voice.

“Please,” I interrupted, closing my eyes. “Please stop.”

“You must hear this before you go,” Whitestrand told me, “Or else, I nor anyone else could never rest again. You have to know.”

I sat silently with my eyes closed. I fought back the burning hot tears. What if my nightmare was so terrifying because it was true? I had never allowed myself that thought, never wanted to make that sort of pain real, but it was there as if it’d been waiting all along.

“I’ve only heard bits and pieces along the way. He and his sister ran free, never stayed in one place for very long. He had these ideas and they talked about them. She was the one who told him that neither the Clashers nor the Legionnaires were right, that to stop the war it would have to come from a third side. They ran free for three years.

“When the Legion found them, they weren’t even searching for stragglers. They said, ‘Kill the boy, keep the girl’ and that’s what they thought they did. Kieran was fourteen then and the boy they had directed the command toward was only twelve. He had grown tired of the killing already, at such a young age, and he couldn’t do it anymore. He wanted to be free. He pretended to kill the boy and let his Legionnaires take the fighting little girl, hoping that they would be easy on her. He used their distraction to get himself and the other boy free,” Whitestrand paused in his story now. He didn’t have to tell it, I could see my nightmare as if I’d willed a memory into place.

“When Kieran was healed by Kai, Kieran hated this boy. He should have killed him and saved his sister. The only way Kai was able to save his life was by swearing that he would find his sister one day and reunite their family. With that oath, Kieran and Kai set to work on building a new world within the new world. Kieran wanted his sister to be proud of her vision that he had brought to life and Kai wanted to give his life for the little girl. He was like a crazed man for the first few years,” Whitestrand sighed, remembering something I couldn’t see.

I couldn’t stop the burning hot tears from sliding down my cheeks though I wasn’t sure if my tears were borne of sorrow or fear, maybe even frustration. I let them flow unchecked as Whitestrand told the story that wasn’t his and I watched him. There was a sort of ethereal magic to his story telling despite the pain it caused. I was more uncomfortable now, crying in front of a stranger, than I had probably ever been in my entire life.

“When I showed up, I asked Kieran where his sister was. He stomped away angrily and left Kai to explain. He couldn’t even remember what the little girl had looked like anymore, he’d said. I showed him a picture. You see, their family and mine was very close. I didn’t point to the little girl because she wouldn’t look like that anymore. I pointed to her mother with her wine-colored hair and icy blue eyes and I told him ‘Aili will look like
this.
She looks like her mother’,” Whitestrand said.

“Stop,” I heard the shaking in my voice. I could feel the tears picking up their pace. The heat of my tears felt like it was singeing my skin off of my face. I felt nothing except for pain.

“You have to understand, Aili, that to find out your sister is the most reputable cold-blooded killer this new world has seen is a harsh reality. I promise your brother is calm now. We know that the Legion has washed away your memories. Finn told us,” Whitestrand told me.

“They didn’t,” I shook my head violently. I angrily wiped the tears from my face and jumped to my feet.

“Look at me!” Whitestrand yelled at me as I reached the door. I froze where I was but I didn’t turn around to look at him. I could feel the tightness of my muscles in my shoulders like they were screaming to relax but I couldn’t. After a moment, he took three quick strides and was at my side. He whispered harshly in my ear and pressed something thin into my hand, “Take this for when you’re ready.”

I kept the thing in my hand, not wanting to look at it, and I rushed from the building. I didn’t get very far before I noticed someone leaning against the building, his arms crossed at his chest. His chin was low, his face almost hidden in the shadows, but I could see the shining proof of his sorrow on his cheeks. He didn’t look up or say anything but I knew he’d been listening. In another world, I might’ve been able to walk up to Kai and tell him I understood why he saved a man who might be my brother and not me, but in this life I couldn’t.

I continued walking past him, squaring my shoulders as I walked down the flame-lit pathway. I could feel the smeared tears drying on my face and the heat of the jungle weighing heavily down on me as if it meant to bury me. I took deep, steadying breaths as I walked towards where I knew my team would be. As I walked, I stuffed the thin paper in one of my cargo pockets without looking at it. I didn’t want to see what nightmare Whitestrand had bestowed upon me.

As I continued walking the panic flared up in my chest. It felt as if a large animal was sitting on my chest and it was hard to breathe. I didn’t want to let it control me, didn’t want to be weak in front of anyone ever again. I had let Whitestrand, a stranger, see my tears though the only two people in the world who had ever seen them were Finn and his mother. I lost my momentum as I tried strengthening my resolve along with my panic. I couldn’t wake my team in the middle of the night to march back home, I knew that. I would wait, and by morning, after they were well fed, we would make the long journey back to the comfort of familiarity. I would leave this nightmare behind me forever.

Kai

I didn’t know how to sleep anymore. I had spent most of a decade searching for a ghost. I knew her to be dead but she’d walked straight into
my
home very much alive. She looked just like Whitestrand had said she would. Her hair was wine-colored, just like her mother’s, and it flowed free and smooth down her back. She wore Legionnaire clothing and had a tattoo on her arm and shoulder but I couldn’t really pay attention to that. Her eyes were the same icy blue as her mother’s had been.

I had asked her how far she had come without really asking and she hadn’t really answered. How close could she have been, all this time, and I’d never found her? Now I knew that she lived in the place I could never look. The main Legion city that was so well protected there was no way to look for her. The same place I had come from.

              I had listened to Whitestrand tell her Kieran’s story, my story, his story, and her story. I had heard her protests, heard her gasping for air with panic, and in a fucked up twist of fate, I wanted to rush to the beautiful, nightmarish woman who had killed so many people, hold her in my arms, and never let her go. I had wanted to, still, when she rushed from the medical hut she’d slept in and I saw her tears. I couldn’t say anything, though. I could make no apologies for saving Kieran and not her. She could never forgive me and I could never forgive myself. I did the only thing I knew to do. I went to my home, climbed the hanging ladder, and lit the candle in the windowsill for the little girl. The little girl
had
died, and she had become this woman. She was not who she should have been. I felt Kieran’s pain like it was my own.

              When daylight finally broke, I knew I had to go see her one last time. I knew it would be painful to watch her go when all I’d wanted was to keep her here, safe. Still, I descended the ladder from my home slowly and folded into the curious crowd. It was fascinating. While Aili had slept, our people and hers had blended. They had talked. I suspected that some who held rage against the Legion had mended some old wounds in their hearts.

Everyone wanted to see them off. They wanted to see the Legion leave us in peace. All I cared about was seeing
her
. Kieran fell in step with me halfway down the path towards the meadow. He was quiet and stiff in his movements, but finally he spoke.

“Did he tell her?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

“And?” Kieran asked hopefully. “Can we save her?”

That was all he’d gone on about after Finn had knocked her out to save her and us. Kieran had wanted nothing but to save his little sister from the woman who had become the Reaper.

“She’s not ready. I don’t think she ever will be,” I told him honestly. I didn’t want to be the one to deliver the bad news but I knew it had to come from me. All of this was my fault anyway.

Kieran nodded his head slowly. “We cannot save those who don’t wish it.”

I didn’t know how to respond so I didn’t. We walked on in stiff silence. When we finally reached the meadow, her people were up and moving around. They were talking with our people, eating their breakfast peacefully. I looked around the massive grouping, but I couldn’t find her in the crowd anywhere.

“There,” Kieran whispered. I followed his gaze and off to the side, the southernmost edge of the meadow, she leaned against a tree with her arms crossed at her chest. She was clean, free of war-paint and dirt. She had on fresh clothing, her hair smoothed back. Her expression was of the most perfect calm, no lines to show any anxiety. Her blue eyes moved through the crowd, watching silently. Finn sat on the ground beside her, eating his breakfast slowly and glancing up at her often. I watched as he said something to her and she shook her head from side to side, a response:
no
.

“She looks like she has seen more of this war than anyone else I’ve ever met,” Kieran said mournfully. I nodded my agreement. I wanted to know what demons she battled in her heart. I could tell there were plenty.

“She looks fine,” Whitestrand said observationally as he came up behind us and stood at Kieran’s other side.

“Maybe she is fine. Maybe it’s just us who are upset,” Kieran replied.

“She’s not fine. She hasn’t eaten, hasn’t slept. She knows we’re over here, watching her, and yet she won’t even look at us,” Whitestrand said. His words made sense but I didn’t want to feel the leap of my heart, the near joy I felt, to think that she was as aware of me as I was of her.