Kai Nico

Hey there, tumblr! I'm Kai Nico! I write short stories and novels with plenty of queer characters. If you get tired of hearing about queer people, you'll probably want to find your way to the exit. For those of you who stayed: Welcome! I hope you enjoy your stay!

Random facts:

I am in my 20s

Non-binary (they/them)

From America

I have a long-term partner

Hobbies:

Writing

Thinking about writing

Getting into writing blocks

Reading

Photography

Video games

Finished Projects:

The Darkness That Surrounds Us

Storms and Sun Rays: Love on the Run

Light of the Universe

Multiple flash fiction pieces

WIPS:

The Darkness That Surrounds Us book 2

Untitled fantasy series (book 1)

Untitled queer book

Twisting Fate

Untitled mystery (short story)

Storms and Sun Rays: Love on the Run prequel

Untitled queer short story

Untitled Isekai and Crime short story

Tagged by: @comicgoblinwrites

This is an excerpt from my new novella Chasing Phantoms, which will be available on Amazon shortly.

I never like to be in one place for very long and the longer I stay the less I sleep. Cautious. Or paranoid. There is a fine line between the two and I always did like stitching. This is the fourth day in Monsaquilo and I’ve stayed in just as many inns. Changing locations and names everyday. Changing my attitude and outfit with the individual.

A clanging. Crying. Muted voices. 

Just ignore it. Focus on folding the clothes. Nothing good ever comes from intervening before I absolutely have to.

“Sit! Down!”

My skin prickles at the harsh rumble and I drop the warm t-shirt, running toward the noise in the kitchen. 

Miloh crying, small body shaking. Though he is nine years old, he has the physique of a boy much younger, something that has only ever fueled Dad’s rage. 

Mom cowering in her chair. A few wisps of hair fleeing her bun, some grey, not due to old age, but the struggles this life has brought her. 

Sella spooning pasta into tupperware. She falls in the middle of the sibling line-up, which has led to her being fiercely independent, mostly out of necessity. 

Ivy repeatedly drying the same dish. She is Sella’s shadow, only one year her junior, usually forgotten in the chaos.

Dad towering over Miloh, calm fury in his features. I can’t remember a time where there was anything other than rage or indifference behind his eyes. “I don’t like repeating myself, Miloh.”

“Dad, I promise I didn’t mean to,” Miloh whimpers, his dark curls trembling with his body. 

It never gets any easier watching my baby brother endure Dad’s rage. Dad has very specific expectations of the boys and girls in this family, and Miloh has never come close to meeting them. He’s not large enough or strong enough or aggressive enough to be a “man”. He enjoys cooking and putting ornaments on the Christmas tree and, worst of all, comforting Mom when she’s hurt. The memories and guilt from every time I failed Miloh gnaw at my insides, but I stuff it down and jump into my role of diffuser, though it rarely works. I take careful steps closer to the two of them, “What’s going on here?” 

Dad turns to me, hazel eyes that match mine foggy with anger, “Nothing that concerns you, Dahlia.”

Everyone’s attention shifts to the backdoor as Silas walks through and I silently hope the interruption is enough to break the tension. Though he is sixteen and Dad’s favorite, I know he won’t intervene. Why would he risk getting on Dad’s bad side? 

The only sound for a moment is Miloh’s quiet sobs, then Dad snaps back into action, “Arabeth! If you are so bold as to defend your son then you come and do it!” 

She briefly hesitates and that damned anger I get from Dad flares. I hate myself for the question that I have struggled with since I was Miloh’s age: Why can’t she be stronger? Finally, she rises from her seat and takes Miloh’s place at the sink, Miloh running to my side and grasping my hand. We all hold our breath as Mom reaches down the disposal and pulls out a mangled fork. Dad calmly takes it from her, inspecting it as though it is an ancient artifact. 

“What did I tell you?” He pokes her with it in the chest. “Don’t defend a lying child.” Poke. “Unless you want to receive the consequences.” Poke.

I can’t keep watching this, all over a stupid fork. Besides, it’s not as though my brother and sisters will do anything. “Okay, Dad. Miloh didn’t mean it. Let’s just go back to our chores.”

I immediately know I said the wrong thing. His eyes glaze over, his body seeming to grow bigger, as though the evil thing living inside came unleashed. “I say when this is over! Everybody, into the living room. Now!” 

We all move in unison. This has happened before and it’s not wise to disobey him when he’s reached this level of fury. We make our way to the couches, but I freeze when Dad calmly says, “Not you, Dahlia. Over here.”

I usher Miloh to the couch and walk over to Dad. I’ve spent the vast majority of my life learning how to navigate his anger. I’ve gotten pretty good at it, but sometimes I make mistakes, like today. My stomach drops when Dad reaches to his side and unholsters his revolver. My first thought is that I am dead. That he’ll kill me. This isn’t the first time thinking this, nor will it be the last. But, I stand firm, willing to do so to protect Miloh and the others, even my mother, who wouldn’t do the same. 

He stomps over, an inhuman smirk on his face, but instead of pointing the barrel at me, he unloads the weapon except for a single bullet, spins it, and hands it over grip first. “I am fed up with the lack of respect in this family. I have tried to teach you the discipline I learned in the military, but you all have been huge disappointments. Dahlia, you seem to think you are in charge here, so let’s see if you have what it takes to make the hard choices.” My heart betrays me, racing to the point of near nausea. The revolver is heavy in my hand and I swallow the bile that threatens to spill out. He grips my arm so hard his knuckles go white and aims it at Miloh. “Pull the trigger. Let’s see what fate decides.”

Sick bastard! There is no way Dad has grown to be this cruel. I look at Miloh, face streaked with tears. Sometimes I feel like more of a mother to him than a sister, like he is a part of my soul living outside my body. He deserves to live a full and happy life, which will never happen while Dad looms over us. Through my hazy vision and the shaking of my hand, I slowly turn toward Dad. Just as my finger starts to pull on the trigger, Dad disarms me in a blur, hitting me on the left temple with the butt of the gun. I stumble back, vision going black and head pounding. 

Dad’s shouts come at me as though in an amphitheater, “You should have obeyed me, Dahlia!”

Staggering along the floor, trying to keep myself upright, sobs and terrified screams meet my echoing ears. When I get my vision back, it is swimming, the room a carnival funhouse. The pistol he keeps in a locked drawer in the living room, now in his hands.

“Please don’t do this, Kaid!” Mom’s meek voice.

“Dad, no!” Silas, teary-eyed for the first time since I can remember. 

Sella and Ivy unmoving, huddling close together. 

“Dahlia… Dahlia, please help.” Miloh wailing my name over and over. 

I need to get the pistol out of his hands. I try to run at him, tripping over my own feet before I can reach him, the room still spinning. 

BANG!

Ears ringing. Screams echoing. 

BANG!

I scramble to my feet. This cannot be happening. A brief glance at my family proves that this is not a nightmare. Mom and Silas slumped on the couch, motionless. Blood pooling.

“Dahlia!” Miloh’s feet are stuck to the ground where he stands. 

BANG!

Ivy shrieks, “Sella! Sella, no!”

Dad’s arm shifts further down the line, face expressionless, “You all should have obeyed!” 

I run at him again, willing my feet to be quick. 

BANG!

My chest crashes into his side, tackling him to the floor, crashing on the glass coffee table as we go down. I ignore the shards sticking out of my skin, turning red, my only thought being to protect Miloh. I grab the pistol Dad dropped in the scuffle and, not taking my eyes from his emotionless ones, point it at him, pulling the trigger. 

“You should have known better than to threaten Miloh. If you knew me at all, you’d know I will protect him at any cost.”

The rushing in my ears fades away, replaced by the sound of Miloh still whimpering my name. The gun falls from my fingers, mixing with the broken glass and blood. I rush over to Miloh, enveloping him in my arms. 

“Dahlia, this is all my fault.” 

I rock him back and forth, “No, Miloh. I should have stopped him. I should have been faster.” I look at the bodies over his shoulder, my family gone forever, lost in a storm of rage. Here one moment, gone the next. 

Sirens sound from outside, likely called in by a concerned neighbor. 

Miloh pulls back, our eyes meeting, “Let’s go, Dahlia. We can start fresh somewhere else. I don’t want to be here anymore.”

I squat down to his level, “Oh, Miloh. That sounds wonderful, but we have to face this. If we start running now, we’ll never stop. But, I promise I won’t let anyone hurt us again.”

Miloh studies my face for a moment before nodding. I lead him outside to await the flashing lights, away from the death inside. 

The stairs up to Hawx’s home creaked as I approached their front door. I stood there for a moment, the bronze knocker, an open book with a sword down the center, stared me in the face, daring me to make myself known. In the six months I’d been here, I had only visited Hawx’s house a handful of times. Even though I’d always been welcomed with open arms, I still felt strange coming here, like I was burdening them. Besides, I wasn’t always in the mood to be lectured by Hawx. 

I raised my hand to knock, but thought better of it. Maybe this wasn’t the best decision. I turned to walk back down the stairs, porch creaking. 

The door opened and Vivica, Hawx’s wife, stood in the doorway, “I thought I heard someone out here. Come in, Sparks! We were just about to sit down for some dinner.”

“Oh, I don’t want to intrude on your meal.”

She put one hand on her hip, waving me over with the other, “Nonsense! Get in here!”

“Alright…”

Vivica ushered me into the foyer and Hawx’s voice echoed down the hall, “What is it, my love?”

“Sparks is here.”

We entered the dining area, Hawx setting out plates for the two of them, “Sparks! What a nice surprise. What brings you by?” It was always strange seeing Hawx out of uniform, like I was violating their privacy.

I shifted uneasily from foot to foot, tamping down the electricity that threatened to expose my discomfort. Hawx had spent the last few months teaching me how to control my powers and not explode at any emotion. Mother never taught me I could use my power for good and learning that had completely changed my perspective, but I did miss the release I felt in using my lightning. 

I cleared my throat, “I need to talk to you about something important.”

Hawx furrowed their brows, their orange and grey eyes sweeping over me for any hint, “Of course. Please join us. We can discuss it over dinner if you would not mind.”

I took a seat across from them, “Sure, thanks.”

Vivica ran into the kitchen to fetch a third plate, then sat beside Hawx. 

Hawx’s ever observant eyes on me, “What is bothering you?” Damn them and their ability to read me like an opponent. 

I sighed, “It’s my mother. She’s causing trouble again.”

Vivica turned to Hawx, gauging their reaction. The latter remained stone-faced, “I had heard rumblings of that, but could not confirm it. If you believe it is her that is all the confirmation I need. What have you heard?”

My teeth ground in frustration. How could they know about this and not tell me? But my anger was dulled at the way Hawx believed in me. No one ever had as much as them. I tried to keep the bite out of my voice, “Why didn’t you tell me you suspected she was back?”

“Because I did not know for sure until now.”

I inhaled deeply, steadying myself, “What are we supposed to do?”

“I am not sure, but I would be very grateful if you helped me with this. Your knowledge of her will give us an edge.”

Looking down at my barely eaten food, words built in my throat, “I almost sought her out.” I met Hawx’s eyes, “But I came here instead. What does that say about me?”

Their lips turned up, almost imperceptibly, “It says that you have grown greatly and I am very proud of you.”

Outwardly, I rolled my eyes, but inside I was simply a young mutant desperate for reassurance.

Hawx ripped off a piece of chicken, “Let us enjoy our dinner, but in the morning I will talk to the General.”

“Remember, use only the skills I taught you. Only use your powers if you absolutely have to. It will give you away otherwise,” Hawx whispered from beside me. 

We were standing outside of what was suspected to be an opium den. Four months of training later, Hawx finally deemed me ready for an actual mission. Hawx’s mother, the General of the Collective Species Army or CSA, caught wind of this supposed den and the opium peddlers who ran it. Our job was to go in quietly and take out the peddlers with as few casualties as possible, while also protecting the innocents.

I followed Hawx’s lead, several others behind me as they picked multiple locks and we snuck into the small hidden door that led to the cellar. The immediate scent of incense crawled up my nose and down my throat, suffocating me. The extreme use of incense was most likely a way to cover the smell of the opium smoke that was heavy in the air. 

We shuffled silently along the left wall, but quickly froze when there was the sound of a door opening and footsteps on the stairs. 

A halting hand and a hushed, “This one is all you, Sparks.” 

This would be the first time truly facing someone without using my lightning and I couldn’t help but doubt my ability to do it. Though, I knew Hawx would have my back if I needed them.

The female orc that appeared was petite with large tusks that were barely visible in the dark cellar. I held my breath, stalking silently across the space between us, pouncing before she realized she wasn’t alone. With a swift flat-handed hit to the neck, the female went down. 

I breathed a sigh of relief as Hawx’s hand rested on my shoulder, “Well done. You have successfully secured your first prisoner without any assistance from your magic. Help me tie her up.” I had to admit, it felt good not to rely upon my powers. 

Once the orc’s hands, feet, and mouth were bound, we secured the cellar and made our way up the stairs. Voices seeped through the cracks around the door, the smell growing stronger, threatening to gag me. Having learned the floor plan from an anonymous insider, we knew where they were extracting the opium and where individuals were partaking in the vile drug. 

Hawx carefully cracked the door open and I noted the scattered individuals. A fae and an elf at the extraction table, three more orcs sitting on a couch, talking amicably, and more disembodied voices coming from other rooms. The smoke was a visible cloud infiltrating every corner. Quickly shutting the door, Hawx delivered a hushed plan, denoting who each of us would take down. 

Electricity boiled in my veins, but I had to keep it under control. This was my opportunity to prove to myself and Hawx that the sometimes infuriating, yet invigorating months of training were worth it. 

The next several minutes were a well-choreographed blur of sneaking and incapacitating our respective opponents. Not once did my fingers so much as tingle with a spark. The two side rooms were even easier, most of the individuals in them innocents, only guilty of getting swallowed whole by this drug. 

Zero casualties, eight prisoners, and six innocents later, we were on our way back to the two wagons we stashed for just this purpose, a cool breeze on my damp forehead. The air around me sweet after the suffocating den. 

Hawx sidled up next to me, a firm hand grasping my shoulder, “You did great, Sparks. I am proud of you. You helped change many lives today for the better.” 

A fist aimed for my side, but I dodged out of the way, falling into a defensive stance. 

“Good, but do not forget to stay light on your toes.” Hawx swept for my legs and I barely managed to avoid it. 

We circled each other and I said with a snarl, “Being light on my feet doesn’t matter when I can just use my lightning.” 

Hawx gave me a stern look, “And what happens when you face off against someone like me who can counteract your powers?”

Not wanting to admit they were right, I threw a punch that, of course, they sidestepped. To be fair, they had over one hundred years of training. Between stamping down my lightning and the effortless way Hawx dodged and deflected my blows, my fury only grew. Desperate to hit something, I attacked with a rapid succession of punches. Hawx slipped between my fists and moved like a leaf in the wind. In the process, they managed to spin me around, dulling my airflow with a headlock. 

Mother’s voice sounded like a warning in my head, Never let anyone get the better of you.

The grip on my powers slipped and the raging lightning coursed through my body. It threatened to shoot out of my fingertips, but Hawx smothered it, “You are in control, not the power. Breathe and let it pass through you.” 

Their soothing tone had the opposite effect that they wanted and I spit out, “I’m done with this! Let me go!”

They freed me from their grip and I finally noticed a male standing beside the sparring ring, watching. 

I shouted at him, “What are you looking at?” 

Bolts singed the air around me, but I bit them back before they could take over. 

The large fae male raised his hands in surrender, an amused smirk spread across his face, “Woah, sparks. The name’s Arkyn. I’m Hawx’s father. They asked me to bring you something. You want it or not?”

‘Sparks’… Interesting. 

Curiosity got the better of me, seeing a wrapped object at his feet, and I strode over to him, “What is it?”

Hawx joined the two of us and Arkyn lifted the object, handing it to me, “See for yourself.”

The object was heavier than I anticipated and I gently pulled back the cloth to reveal a beautifully crafted sword. I tilted the blade back and forth in the light, running my finger along it. Though it was smooth to the touch, when the light hit it, there were ripples in the metal that resembled bolts of lightning. 

“This is beautiful. Thank you, Arkyn.”

The fae I knelt beside was covered in ash and soot with burns down their left arm and hand. They were wheezing slightly, eyes closed against the sun overhead. Clearly having given up on fleeing. There was nothing I could do for them except drag them behind a building, hopefully out of harm’s way. 

Everywhere I looked, a blazing inferno. Walking down the streets, I was greeted with screams as another fire sparked in front of a group of individuals trying to escape. A quick glance of my surroundings told me the eyes that were the same color as mine weren’t looking. Nor were any of her followers. I absorbed the fire into myself, creating an opening for those fleeing. There was no use attempting to convince my mother to stop what she was doing, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t minimize the damage. 

I peered around a small shack, a bone-chilling view unfolding in front of me. My mother, fiery red hair matching the flames shooting out of her hands, surrounded by orcs, mutants, and half breeds. All the outcasts in one place. All following one woman. My mother. 

Individuals in blue and grey uniforms fought my mother and her followers. Mother was out numbered and nearly surrounded, but her flames continued to burn. Fear rattled inside me at the thought of her noticing that I was not assisting in the fight. Electricity coursed through me, tingling at my fingertips. That fear ignited when a ball of fire flew directly at me, narrowly missing my head. 

The harsh, booming voice that raised me echoed against the buildings, “Why aren’t you fighting!”

I forced myself not to shrink back, but my voice came out meek, “I never wanted to kill innocents.”

Even though she had her eyes trained on me, she was still dodging and fighting those around her, “Do they look innocent? They would kill everyone here if given the chance!”

A figure dressed in black and grey, probably a higher ranked individual, fighting Mother with an unseen power, shouted, “That is not true! We are only here to stop your destruction!”

I absorbed more of the scene unfolding in front of me, some uniformed individuals helped those injured or trying to run. Others with water or air magic were trying to put out Mother’s fires. 

“Don’t let them trick you, foolish child! I raised you to fight for the cause! Now, fight!”

Lightning sparked and zapped from my hands, as red as my eyes. I could tell I was about to lose control, but I bit it down, dampening my magic. I locked eyes with my mother, silently pleading. 

She shook her head and spared a glance around the village, noting how dwindled her followers had become. “All forces retreat! To me!” She spun around spewing fire, creating a ring between her followers and the others, me included. Before those with water magic could begin to put out the fires, Atri, Mother’s second in command, split the ground behind the flames, creating a rift ten feet across. When the flames were finally squashed, Mother and her followers were long gone, most likely transported through a portal of Eleet’s creation. My mother had amassed a crew of powerful magic wielder’s and Eleet’s power was the most rare. Teleportation through rifts in the planes of this world. 

I closed my eyes and unleashed my magic, screaming to the sky and falling to my knees, knowing I’d been left behind. When I opened them, I expected to find a group of unconscious individuals, electrocuted, but instead I found that my lightning had been contained by a wall of hard magic. 

I wiped away the single tear that had escaped and met eyes of two different colors. One so grey it could be black, the other a rust orange. “That is some power you’ve got there. I nearly could not contain it all.”

Voice hoarse from screaming, “Who are you?”

“I am Hawx. We are here to help.” They gestured around at a group carrying an injured fae on a stretcher. 

I spoke through gritted teeth, “Looks can be deceiving.”

“I agree with you there. Though actions are a tell of who someone really is and these individuals only want to help. I only want to help.” They paused, looking me in the eye once more, “What do you want to do, young one?”

“I-I…I don’t know.” I knew my mother was cruel, but I never thought she would leave me behind. 

The fae warrior spoke again, “Come with us. We can help you master your powers.”

I stared at my hands and ground my teeth, unsure what to do. I certainly did not desire another mentor, but they seemed nice enough and they could provide the shelter I needed. Lost and without another option, “Fine, but I don’t need training.”

Here is my submission for flash fiction friday! How far would you go to save your lover from the brink of death?

My throat sears in pain, blood and phlegm dripping from my lips. I put my body weight on the arm I have slung over my lover’s shoulder, hunched over, barely putting one foot in front of the next. 

“It’s okay, my love. I will get you to the healer. Just hold on.” She glances around frantically, “Can someone help us? Please help us.”

The people in the street part, going the long way around us. Some unabashedly walk the other way. Curtains close. Hushed whispers, “Always possessed that one.”

We struggle closer to the healer, me wheezing and coughing with every step. Nay-Ahli shouts at the bystanders, “Why won’t any of you help?”

No one answers. Not that I expect them to. All my life has been the same. Everyone, but Nay-Ahli and the healer keeping their distance. All, but them thinking I am cursed. 

Maybe I am.

***

Familiar hands stroking my hair. A soft bed. The deep rumble of the healer. It’s a struggle to breathe, but then again, it’s always been that way. My eyes crack open. Nay-Ahli sits on the edge of the bed. The healer on a stool beside it. 

I try to speak, but my words come out as rasping coughs. 

A soothing voice, “Shh, don’t try to speak. We made it. The healer will make you better now.”

“Nay-Ahli, you’re not listening to me. There is nothing I can do. The lungs are too strained and can no longer keep up with the body.”

“There has to be something! I can’t lose–” 

I rest my hand on her knee, locking eyes with her. Whispering, “It’s okay, Nay-Ahli. I’m okay.”

“No! I will not let you die!”

Oh my sweet Nay-Ahli. She never has been good at letting go. If only I had the strength to tell her one last time how much I cherish her and she’ll be okay without me.

The pain ebbs. Even the feeling of Nay-Ahli caressing my hair. All that remains is an echo of Nay-Ahli’s soul crushing sobs.

***

A deep breath. The first I’ve had in a long time. My eyes take longer than normal to open as if they’re rusty from disuse. A candle flickers. A strange flame, purple instead of orange.

A woman speaks, her voice faintly familiar, “There. I’ve done it. Now, let him go.”

I prop myself up on my elbows, absorbing the scene in the room. I’m still in the healer’s clinic. The town’s mage stands beside me holding that strange candle. Nay-Ahli has a knife to the healer’s side. 

She drops the knife and comes rushing at me, knocking me back, “You’re okay! You’re alive!”

I lean into her embrace, shocked at how strong and healthy I feel. Then the night flashes in my memory and I gently push Nay-Ahli away, “What’s going on?”

Over her shoulder, the healer flees silently from the clinic. 

Tears streak her cheeks and she chokes out, “It doesn’t matter. I got you back.”

When I catch the mage’s eyes, I see what I know to be true in my soul. If I still have a soul… As long as that candle burns, so too does my life. And the wax is already melting. 

Nay-Ahli goes to look at the mage, but I catch her chin, “My love. My beautiful love. I am here, but I won’t be forever.”

“Shh, don’t talk like that. We will get to live our life together now.”

I gently stroke her cheek, “That may be true, but not in the way you want it to be. Magic doesn’t last forever. Let’s enjoy whatever time we have together.”

She spins on the mage, “What are they talking about? You told me you could resurrect them.”

The mage speaks firmly, “And that is what I did, but like they said magic doesn’t last forever.”

Nay-Ahli stalks toward the mage, fury radiating off of her, “You’re all evil! Every one of you refuses to help! You all deserve to die instead of Inerys.”

I am in utter disbelief at her words. This isn’t the Nay-Ahli I know, “Nay-Ahli, stop this.” I rise from the bed and cross the room to stand between the two of them. “I am here now. Let us enjoy the time we have left. The mage took away my sickness, but only for now. Please, let’s go for a ride. You know how I long for a journey through the woods.” 

Nay-Ahli relaxes a bit, “I can’t lose you. Not again.”

“You will never lose me. I will always be with you. Don’t you remember? We share one heart. Yours is mine and mine is yours. Every beat you hear is a reminder of me. It will not bring me any peace to know that you are hurting others because of your grief.”

Her shoulders sag, but she grasps my hand firmly. I gingerly reach for the candle in the mage’s hands with my free hand

“My love, let’s go take a ride, as fast and far as possible. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this healthy in my life.” 

Nay-Ahli gives me a pained half smile, but allows me to pull her out of the clinic as I toss a grateful and apologetic smile at the mage. 

***

The horse we have had for many years whinnies happily when we enter the stables, the candle now a quarter melted. 

My arms wrap around Nay-Ahli’s waist as we ride into the endless forest, the candle miraculously staying lit despite the wind. The sun descending upon the horizon. With each drip of wax, I expect to feel dread, but all I feel is peace. Here with the woman of my dreams and nothing but the world in front of us.

Walking back into the town you once called home after being away for seven years is nothing less than strange. New buildings, new roads, new faces. You try to find your bearings by remembering all of the old buildings and all of their memories. The old abandoned high school that sat on top of a hill, is now a restored home to a family of six. No more boarded up or broken windows, graffiti washed away, and the town ghost stories covered in a fresh coat of paint. The penny candy store shut down and all of your childhood memories with it. You take the overgrown path through the woods and past the cliff where unwanted memories are tossed over the edge, waiting to be forgotten. You were once afraid of the cliff because it seemed never ending to a person who was just beginning. One day you had overcome your fear, trekked down the unknown path following those who knew. Only to find yourself at the bottom of the world surrounded by trees and forgotten memories. But you didn’t want to forget. So you climbed out. 

Walking the streets with Cal, the cool night air blows her scent toward me. I breathe in deeply, savoring it. I register a piercing pain in my side at the same moment I notice an unfamiliar fae standing to my left. A dagger peaks from my side and I grab it, running it across the fae’s throat before they have a chance to run. Blood sprays across my face as well as begins to ooze from my side. 

Cal is there in a heartbeat, hand on my wound, blood running through her fingers, “Erevaughn!” 

I look around, on edge, and note a person standing in the shadow of a building across the street. “Calantha, run. Hide somewhere.”

“What are you-” She looks in the direction I am staring, “Is that…?”

“Run, Cal!”

“I won’t leave you! You’re wounded!”

“I can handle this. Just please, my love, hide.”

Calantha reluctantly backs away. I draw my sword and stalk across the street, pain barely registering in my brain. “You sent an apprentice to get close because you know you can’t beat me! Come! Fight me, Ollynne! Let’s end this once and for all!”

I glance around the street, noting the lack of fae who were just there. As if they too knew what was about to happen. 

Ollynne unsheathes her sword and removes her cloak, tossing it aside. 

When we are two sword’s width apart, I stop. “Why, Ollynne? Why did you turn on everything we stand for?”

Ollynne twirls her sword, “Don’t act surprised, Erevaughn. I may have acted prim and proper like the rest of you, but we all knew deep down I would never be as good.”

“So you turned on everyone who loved you? How does that make any sense? You could have left. You didn’t need to invite them in and bring down the entire guild! You killed so many people! Good people!” My words echo back on the empty street. 

Her eyes turn molten, “And I would do it again! You will never understand the things I had to go through to find my true family. People who care for me! The last thing I have to do to prove myself is finish what I started and that ends with you.” 

“They don’t love you! Not like we did. You never had to prove yourself to us. We were already your family!”

She swings her sword at me, but I simply step back,  “Enough! Fight me. Let us see who really is the best.”

I think of Calantha and what I want for my future, “I don’t want to fight you. I can help you.”

A disturbing gleam settles in her eyes, “I don’t need your help! I am here to kill you, not talk!” She swings at me again and I deflect her sword. “Fight me, dammit!”

“I don’t want to kill you, Ollynne. Can’t we just let this go?”

She laughs maniacally, “Let this go? How could I possibly let this go? They won’t accept me until I kill you. I won’t waste this chance. They know things you couldn’t possibly imagine. And I could do real good with that information.” She steps toward me and swings a third time, but I just deflect it, enraging her further. 

“Nothing they know is worth losing yourself over. What of Arion? Would they want you to do this?”

“Do not speak their name!” She comes at me, attack after attack. “They weren’t supposed to die, but you were!” 

I duck under and dodge every blow, the pain in my side increasing with each movement. Realizing that talking isn’t getting me anywhere, I attack for the first time, taking Ollynne by surprise. She barely deflects in time, stopping the blade from slicing her side. 

“Finally understand that I didn’t come here to talk?”

“I understand that you aren’t the person I thought you were. Maybe you never were.” Every word I speak seems to further antagonize her. She executes a combo trying to get past my defenses, but I see the maneuver coming and parry her blade, stepping back out of range of her once more. 

“Fight me!” 

Having enraged her to the point of mania, I switch to the offensive. She overexerted herself coming at me, so my switch catches her off guard. She parries twice, but doesn’t get her sword up in time for the last one, which hits her in the upper arm. Her leather armor stops most of the momentum, but I manage to drag the blade and wound her. 

We circle one another, trying to find the next opening. She strikes first, aiming for my neck, but I deflect the blow and jam the hilt of my sword into her nose, crushing it. Ollynne stumbles back and falls onto one knee. I knock her blade away with a kick and rest my own at her neck. 

“Stop!” Calantha’s voice echoes across the empty street.

I turn my attention to her and meet her eyes, only to find horror in hers. 

No… 

“How cute.”

The pain registers as I turn back to Ollynne. A dagger sticks out of my chest. Ollynne has a satisfied smirk on her face and runs off holding her broken nose. The world seems to spin as I turn back to Calantha. Her screams turning into ringing. The ground rises up to meet me, the sky spread out before me. Then Cal is there. Her hands are covered in my blood. So much blood. Two suns grace the sky. Or are those Cal’s eyes? I never could tell the difference. 

“Stay with me, Erevaughn. You’re okay. You’re okay…” 

I barely register her hands moving at record speed.

I try to speak, “I’m here, sun ray.” Only the words are muffled in my throat. 

“It’s okay, my storm. You’ll be okay.” 

We enter a forest and the sounds of birds and animals scurrying about fill the air. Before long, I start recognizing landmarks, though they take me by surprise. The old school building, now only a pile of bricks. The main road, overgrown by weeds. Wixx’s farmhouse, the front door swinging open in the wind.

I look around, sighing, “I don’t know why I expected everything to look the same. But I suppose twenty-five years of being away will do a lot to a place.”

“Does anyone still live here?” 

“I’m not sure. I figured there would be people, but it doesn’t seem like it. I wonder where everyone went.”

“Let’s take a look around,” Cal slides off of Asta and takes the reins of Tethys, leading the horse. I join her on the ground, hand near the sword on my waist. 

We go down every alleyway and to every far off corner of the town, seeing only a handful of fae and the occasional light coming from behind shuttered windows. Finally, we stumble across the house I grew up in, though it is mainly just the foundation. The roof caved in and the walls crumbling. I touch the wall, remembering all the hardships and Cal grabs my hand, interlacing our fingers, “Is this where you lived?”

I nod and she eases closer. 

“Do you miss them?”

“Everyday.” I shake away those thoughts, “Come on, let’s go see if we can find somewhere to sleep.”

“Here are some extra bandages. You’ll want to change these every chance you get. Just like I showed you, alright?” Calantha speaks in her healing voice, stern, but always soft. 

“Yeah, ‘course missus.” The youngling glances at me with cautious eyes, then the sword at my side, “Are you a warrior?”

“Just here to scare off thieves, young one.”

Her eyes travel to my neck and the pale skin peeking above the collar, “But then how did you get that scar?” 

I stiffen. Flashes of faces with unseeing eyes, blood covering my hands, pain everywhere. 

Cal says something to the youngling and she scurries off, cradling her wounded arm and the extra bandages. Cal rests a hand on my shoulder and sound returns to my ears, “My storm. You are safe. Stay with me.”

The flashes come one after another, taking my breath. All I can see is everyone who died that day. Arion, Haldir, Lia, Kaela. All of them, gone. 

Pale yellow eyes shine in the center of the pain. Calantha. She has her hands on either side of my head, forehead touching my own. She whispers for me to breathe, over and over. Finally, her words sink in, finally I feel myself take a deep breath. 

I meet her eyes, “I’m here.”

She pulls back and begins packing up her surgeon’s bag, “Come on, love. Let’s go find somewhere quiet.”

I help her collect her things and untie the horses from the tree nearby. We make our way back to the abandoned barn near Wixx’s farmhouse or I suppose what once was Wixx’s farmhouse. I let the horses roam inside and close the door as much as possible. Calantha grabs the bedrolls and lays them out on the loft. 

She peeks her head over the edge, “Come up here, you’re too far away.”

I smile and climb the ladder. When I reach the top, she is laying amid the blankets, one arm propping up her head, the other beckoning. I oblige, unhooking my sword belt and laying down next to her as she wraps herself around me, head on my chest. 

“You are one of the strongest fae I know. I just wish you didn’t need to be all the time.” Calantha runs a finger along my jaw. “I know–”

I put my finger to her lips, quieting her. “Let’s not talk. I just want to be with you tonight. It could be our last night and I want to be with you for every moment of it.”

“It will not be our last night. You taught me to fight, I could help you.”

“Sun ray, you are a healer not a killer. It would weigh on you too much and I can’t ask that of you. Besides, I taught you that so you could defend yourself if you ever needed to. But you don’t because I am here to protect you and if it ever comes to a fight, I ask that you run and hide, please. It would make me feel better knowing you were out of harm's way.” I stroke her hair as I speak. 

She looks up at me with those golden eyes, “I suppose you are probably right, but I don’t know if I could leave you in harm’s way. Can’t we run together?”

“If the chance arises, I must end things. If only to give you a safe future.”

“Don’t kill her. I don’t want you to have that on your conscience. Not for my sake. How do we know it will even end things?”

“I don’t know my love, but I can’t sit back and do nothing, not if she comes for us. Let’s not talk of this any longer. I want to be with you. Just you and me.”

“But I’m rudely attached to you and would rather never stop talking to you.”

“I’m rudely attached to you too, my sun ray.” I caress her face, “You know what else I like?”

A quick smile, elongated canines flashing, “No idea. What could you possibly like?”

I kiss her softly, “This.” Kiss. “Us.” Kiss. “Everything about you.” Kiss. 

“I–”

“Shhhh… No more talking. Just us. You know the rules.”

Her eyes sparkle, understanding. She tugs off my jacket and tunic, eager. 

I remove her clothing a piece at a time, “Now, I don’t want a sound out of you. Not a word or a moan, nothing.”

She nods, laying bare before me. My hands move of their own accord, one down from her face to her breast. I circle her nipple, grabbing her in my hand. My other hand pulls her head to mine as I kiss her deeply, losing myself in her luscious lips. I pull away, looking down at my beautiful wife. Thinking of the best way to make her moan, I run my hand down her body, stopping just above her apex. Then I inch my way down. She squirms and lifts her hips, eager, but makes no noise. I find her entrance and slide my fingers in, she lets out a small squeak and I halt my movements. When she is quiet again, I start pumping in her, circling and hitting that spot that makes her groan. Surprisingly, she keeps quiet. Her eyes are closed and she is straining to keep her mouth shut, hands bunching the blankets. 

I kiss her stomach, whispering onto her skin, “Someone is being good…”

“Erevaughn…”

I still my hand, “Looks like I spoke too soon.”

I count down from ten, making her wait for it. When I reach zero, I resume moving within her. Slowly. 

She tries to move against me to increase the friction and I oblige her, speeding up. Her breath hitches. Her body arcing. My mouth finds her neck and I kiss, sucking gently, canines nipping. I pump harder, feeling her on the edge. She climaxes and I bite down. She cries out, but instead of stopping, I reach a hand up and cover her mouth, “Quiet, my sun ray or someone may hear us.”

She pants onto my hand as I continue to move in her, prolonging her pleasure. Eventually, she stops me, resting a hand on mine. I remove my hand and pull her close to me, lying back. I kiss her forehead, finding it damp, and smirk to myself. 

Cal peers up at me, “What?”

“I am lucky.”

“Why?”

“Because you are mine. And I am yours. Nothing else matters.”

She holds me tight, “I am lucky too. I’m glad to have met you, Erevaughn. No matter where life takes us, I will be yours and you will be mine. I wouldn’t change our life together for anything.”

“I love you, Cal. Thank you for saying that. I will always be yours.”

On horseback, saddle bags filled with all our possessions, Calantha peers sidelong at me, “You don’t think Ollynne will find us here?”

“We can’t afford to think like that. We just have to keep going. No one knows I’ve been here before. Everyone who did…”

She reaches over the distance between us and grabs my reins, pulling my Helianthus to a halt. Helianthi are built for speed and strength and won’t scare in a fight. Having one is a sign of wealth, but I have the skills to defend ours. Besides, Cal and I’s healing business brings in enough money that if anyone looked into our identities they’d see the funds to back such a purchase. 

Cal climbs into my saddle, sitting in front of me, keeping the reins of her own horse, Tethys. I scoot back to make room for her. My arms around her, the weight of all the lives feels less. Always less with her so close. Always helps me carry what I can’t handle. Always knows what I need before I do. 

“I love you, Erevaughn.”

“I love you, Calantha.”

She leans back against me, head resting on my shoulder, “You’re sure no one will know we’re here?”

I sigh, not wanting to relive it. 

“I’m sorry. It just makes me nervous. Ollynne could have people watching. What if we are putting ourselves in danger by coming here?”

“I’m certain. Everyone who knew is dead,” I say, stern, but soft.

She turns her head to look at me, those eyes stealing my breath as they always do, “My storm, you have to forgive yourself. If not for you, then for them. They wouldn’t want you to carry this weight. I know I didn’t know them, but from what you’ve told me they wouldn’t want you to live your life like you have a sword hanging over your head. Live it fully. Live it with me.”

“It’s not that easy, Cal. If it was, I would have done so three years ago. But you have a point. I need to stop looking in the past and start focusing on our future. I will try. For you. And for them.” 

She scoots back into me, grabbing my arms to hug around her. I envelop her, nuzzling my head into the crook of her neck. 

“Mmmm… Feeling better?”

“How could I not be with you in front of me? If you’re not careful, I may eat you right up.” I feign eating her at the neck, my elongated canines digging in just enough. 

Her laugh is the sound of the birds themselves, melodic and sweet. She nearly falls from the saddle trying to escape me, but I grab her and hold her tight. 

My voice sultry in her ear, “You know what we’ve never done?”

“What’s that?”

“I’ve never fucked you while riding a horse.”

She sidles ever closer, “Oh yeah…?”

“Yes. Would you like to give it a try?”

“I did say to live life fully. I think this would apply to that.”

I let go of the reins, knowing Asta will get us where we need to go. With both hands free, I move her waist length hair out of my way, kissing her neck. One hand caressing her head, twining my fingers in her hair, the other working their way across the planes of her body. She rests a hand on my leg, still in the stirrup. I find the hem of her tunic, working my way underneath. 

Skin touching skin, a heat having nothing to do with the sun overhead. A sigh of content. I run my fingers along her stomach, teasing up and down. 

“Erevaughn…”

I nip at her pointed ears, whispering, “Is there something you desire, my sun ray?”

“You know what I desire, you cruel, cruel wife of mine.”

I grab her breast, overcome by a sudden yearning for her, “I know exactly what you desire.” My other hand untangles from her hair and slides down her body, hovering between her thighs, “Let’s play a game…” I dip my fingers beneath the top of her trousers, “Would you like it to be slow…” I graze her ever so slightly, making her groan. “Or fast?” I hesitate at her entrance, making her wait for it. 

Calantha turns her head once again, meeting my eyes and making my brain fuzzy with the sight of her. “Let’s start slow,” her voice just above a whisper. 

My left hand draws circles around her nipple, while I mimic the movement with my right between her legs. I drag my tongue over her neck, gently biting her ear as I slide a finger inside her. Her breath catches. She settles against me and the movement of the horse rocks us back and forth. Another finger joins the first and she tips her head back on my shoulder. 

I let her adjust before whispering onto her skin, “How is it that you feel so amazing? How can one be so perfect?” I circle my fingers inside her, moving with the horse. 

We ride like that for a while, then, I speak softly, “Want to see how fast I can make you finish?”

She nods, hand gripping my leg. 

I clench my knees together twice, a silent signal to Asta to gallop. She picks up speed, Tethys running alongside her. When Asta reaches a gallop, Calantha bounces with her every step, my fingers entering and pulling out. Entering and pulling out. Over and over. Cal’s breathing increases increases increases. Until she finishes with a burst of energy. Her body goes limp in my arms and I pull my hand out of her pants, slowing Asta with a squeeze.

“Now, that is something we should have tried ages ago.” Cal, still leaning against me, grabs my hand and kisses it softly.