No matter my efforts, I couldn’t convince Kishirra to stay longer than the first two days. She recovered from her wounds soon enough, and had to resume her Quest.
I was a little selfish, as well.
“We are all out of materiel for your plaques though,” I reminded her in a vain attempt to let her stay. She would be safe inside our doors. Preferably inside my own room, thank you very much? “Don’t you think that would be a useless risk?”
“I do value your concern,” she replied with a smile. “But if I have to do this, I will have to rely on a stronger shield than plaques of Tetrarmide, no matter how well those served me in the past. Besides, I missed my encounter with the courier, I will not be able to pay for your services for a long while.”
All that because she had lost one fight. Seriously, what in the name of all hells was she fighting out there? These Chalkers… they really seemed to be extremely dangerous.
“We can rile up the populace. They would understand that something is going, some have seen you fight, they would listen to me. They would listen to us.”
“Nay. I have appreciated the calm and peace of the industrious city of Bùrian. And I have enjoyed the care and comfort of its inhabitants. I would not ask them to fight my battles for me.”
“It wouldn’t be just your battles, I…” I was out of rebuttals. “Just don’t get injured. And please please please don’t get killed.”
She took a step forward and pulled me into an embrace. She wore only her blouse, so I felt the warmth and strength of her body as she embraced me.
It felt like coming home.
Maybe I would just go off in one big firework.
“I have taken your words to heart. I will fight this as long as I can.”
“Mmmh,” I nodded, everything I could say, really. She released me, but her hand lingered against my side.
“And besides. When I have completed my liberation of the hills, perhaps I can come back for another dinner. Or once again I can escort you on the surroundings to pick flowers together. Whatever your heart may desire, after all I just yearn to know more about someone who-”
She stopped mid-sentence. Uh?
Kishirra let go of my hand and gave her cheeks a light slap. I noticed just then how dark they were.
After a few more tense seconds my Mom appeared on the garden’s thresholds, swaying under a tall pile of documents.
Ah. Elven senses.
“Madama Delebasse!” Kishirra said, walking forward. “Here, here! I can give you a hand with those.”
I watched her as she helped Mom, carrying everything under her arm with the utmost ease, and I died a little more inside as my heart fluttered against my chest.
This was the biggest crush of my life. And of course it had to be on an Elven Knight hell-bent on breaking her neck.
Just my luck.
+++
I did not see her for a while.
She did write, though. I read and read all over again her letters, so many times I had to put them on my desk to avoid ruining the fragile reeds paper.
Work proceeds as intended. It seems I might have located another patch of those flowers you showed me the other day during our trip uphill. I would show them, but my drawing skills are none. Perhaps we could visit it one day?
May the Sun shine upon you at Night too –
And that was it. For how verbose she was when she spoke, in writing Kishirra certainly did not show herself to wax poetic.
I still read it so many times I could recite it from memory.
“And the festival is two days from now… she has to come! No matter what happens! I am going to make her promise.”
I had yet to write that letter, though. It was in two days, and Kishirra had a habit of never staying in the same place twice. Farmers delivered me her letters, but it still took several days, and nobody could deliver one to her, unless they stumbled upon her by chance.
Maybe if I made, say, a thousand copies of each and distributed them through the farmers in the area, one of them would be lucky enough to stumble upon her? Mom must have a formula to compute this sort of chances.
“What the hell am I even thinking…” I groaned, throwing myself on the bed.
What was even worse, I was tired. Without Kishirra, we had pivoted our days to focus on the coming festival – which meant nails, rivets, spades, spoons… all sort of small and big tools – and Mom was up there by trying to managing all the paperwork.
It sounded a little ironic to say, but… it was my turn to have faith.
“She will come. She knows when the festival begins.”
I just had to suffer through two more days. And probably tie up about a hundred million more ribbons and peel a hundred billion more lemons.
“It will be all worth it in the end,” I reassured myself.
Not that I could do much else, at this point.
+++
Kishirra impaled the last Chalker, nailing its twitching body to the tree.
“Please keep quiet.” She panted hard, leaning forward as she spat a wad of golden blood and ichor. She was surrounded by corpses, off-white stains glistening under the night’s silver arch. Eighteen of them and she was still alive. Without her armour, even.
“I need some time to get ready.” She groaned, standing up straight and looking at the open sky. “I hope this will be all worth it in the end.”
It was like Lugana had said. Not much she could do beside having faith, at this point. Unlike the Mannish girl, she had the luck of meeting Ansàrra. Her fears and anxiety were just a reflection of how much rough she still was. She had accepted she was-
Nothing more than a selfish failure, teased that woman’s voice from around the woods. Kishirra shuddered.
“Please keep quiet. As I had just said.”
You can try to still my lips, but you cannot do the same for the words sprouting from your own heart, can you my dear? The words that you know being true.
“I have accepted my selfishness.”
Not yet. I am afraid you have yet to face the true consequences of your egotistic existence. But you will soon.
“Leave!” Kishirra barked at the empty air. The wind from the north carried a bout of freezing air and she shivered, a Knight who could sleep in the snow. “This matters little.” She said trying to push back the bile that was rising from deep inside her stomach. Kishirra closed her eyes and began to change her clothes, taking off her stained garb as the Chalkers around her flaked off in white cinder and rivulets of nasty mud.
She had something else to do, very soon.
And miles away and feet below, the ghastly figure of a woman grinned to herself as she paced the underground tunnels where the rest of her Chalkers were busy at work.
Almost ready, she mused.
All would fall into its proper place.
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