Part 3: Releasing Fear

“Anything else that you need to done?” Rae dusted off her hands of flour. Pecha looked around; Elk was cutting the last of the potatoes, while Ánra was wiping the tables of braised spice chicken ingredients.

“You finished all the stews?”

“They will be, once I add these potatoes and the pork,” Elk called over. “And all the plates of chicken have been braised and marinated,” Ánra added, wringing out her towel in the wash basin.

“What about the tarts and breaded knots?”

“All tarts were frosted, and all knots were breaded and cheesed.”

“And the fruit was cut and laid out on the platters.”

“And there is a fresh pile of wood at each oven.”

“And the dishes we used are all washed.”

Pecha stared at the three of them, looking at a loss for words. “You did all that?” She looked at the pots bubbling in the fires, the platters lined on the countertop, the washbasin devoid of dirty dishes. Her gaze returned to them and suddenly broke out laughing. “You did all that!” Rae and Ánra exchanged confused looks with Elk. Pecha continued to laugh. “And they said it could never be done! And you did all that!”

When she finally calmed down enough to speak normally, she still smiled widely. “You three have done the work of ten! I would never have believed it if I wasn’t here looking at the product of your efforts right now!” Her smile shrunk a little. “Despite what Ciana said, they might’ve been on schedule, but we were far behind. There are only so many ovens, yet so many things that need the fires. None of us have slept a wink all night, what with the urgency and all. Poor Asplin spent his entire sleep hours carting in the vegetables and meat.” She looked at all the food again. “How did you manage it all? Only so many could fit in the ovens at one point or another?”

“Well, it was more or less us running around like crazy,” Ánra said. “Yeah, probably breaking every single kitchen safety rule there is,” Elk added. “It was a frenzy, but it was really fun,” Rae said. We hardly see any other part of Myrin except for the training grounds. We’ve all had basic training for things like this, but once you added in the details and we went through a few goes, it was just a matter of quick repetition.”

Pecha shook her head. “I’ll never forget it,” she said. “And what with all of you participating in Rako tonight.” She shook a finger at them. “I shouldn’t have even let you waste your energy on this.” Rae smiled teasingly. “But then you wouldn’t have finished all of this and then Cove and the dignitaries would have to get involved.” Pecha sighed. “All right, all right. I do not deserve as good of help as you three.” She tossed them each a pastry from the counter. “Now hurry along and get some rest. If any of slip up because you were wearing yourselves out in the kitchens, it won’t be on my conscience.”

“That went well,” Elk mumbled, as they walked back to their rooms; he was already halfway into his pastry. Ánra nibbled on hers. “Frankly, I can hardly believe myself that we got so much finished.” She squinted towards the clock tower in the courtyard. “I mean, we spent a good four or so hours there, but it seemed to go by pretty quickly.”

“What did I tell you guys? I said it would be fun.” Rae poked them both in the shoulders. “Come on, who was right?” Elk stuffed the last of the pastry in his mouth. “I only give you credit for getting me this frosted choe for me.” “You were right Rae.” Ánra answered. “It was fun. And we were actually doing something productive.” She paused. “But why did you even ask Ciana in the first place?”

Rae watched the rain fall outside, taking another bite of the choe dough. “I don’t know. I just wanted to help. My parents were always helping people, and always told me to help others when I could. ‘Look for a need,’ they said. ‘Then find a way to fulfill that need.’” She looked at Ánra. “That’s just how they were.” “Very true,” said Elk. “Aunt Teriha and Uncle Roquen were always big on service. My parents were too, but they were much more quiet about, doing little things. Aunt and Uncle didn’t want recognition, but they would do anything, grunt work or detailed service.” Ánra feel silent. “I wish my parents had taught me something like that.” Rae laid a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure they would’ve. Knowing you, they would’ve you.”

They stood there for a few moments, in silence, as the rain fell to the ground. Remembering was hard for them all, the memories flowing like the wind, pooling into a clump of remorse. Ánra’s parents had been ravaged by toran monitors, Rae’s had fallen to the sickness in her second year at Myrin, and Elk’s father had gone to sea when a storm had struck down the ship. Myrin was where they had found each other. They were family. Rae and Elk may have been blood related, but that didn’t make Ánra any less. Myrin had brought them together and they were close than any pair of siblings could be. Myrin had healed them and brought them light when they had been hidden by darkness.

Elk was the first to speak. “Sorry to break this great bonding silence, but I feel a food induced nap coming on.” Ánra glared at him. “How in the world can you be tired? You’ve barely eaten anything. Literally one, one bowl of oatmeal.” Rae started up the stairs, leaving the other two at the bottom.. “I actually had two bowls of oatmeal. I hounded Ciana for an extra scoop. And I stole some of Timber’s leftovers. And Krade’s. And Fewel’s.” “When did you do all that? You were with us from the oatmeal line to the kitchens.” Elk grinned. “The magician never reveals his secrets.”

“You’re horrible,” Rae heard Ánra say. “So you’ve finally figured it out,” Elk called down the stairs. He raced up the steps to meet Rae on the second floor. “Seriously?” she asked. “I’m impressed; Krade takes his food as seriously as you do.” Elk held up a finger. “Correction: Krade takes his food almost as much as I do.” He laughed, then his eyes took on a more serious tone. “But you beat me in seriousness overall. What was wrong with you this morning? When we were talking about Silya? You looked like you were in pain.” Rae kept her eyes forward, walking in silence. “Rae, come on, I’m your cousin: I’m not going to judge you. This isn’t the first time that I’ve seen you like this around her. It seems like everytime she’s around you, you hunker down into some kind of shell, and go out of your way to just avoid her.” He stopped when she didn’t respond and pulled on her arm. “Rae,” he said more forcefully. She finally looked at him, and felt that uneasy feeling in her gut again.

His expression was one that she did not see often, one that she didn’t much care for but knew that it was what made Elk, Elk. It was concern, and stubbornness, and authority. Food loving, wise cracking Elk, transformed. He had all the right to do so: she was being secretive. What she held in her heart was something no one knew, not even her family. It pained her to see them try and figure it out, but she knew it would being even more painful for her to admit it: it was her biggest flaw.

Looking into Elk’s face reminded her of the time when Boraht had left Meyring. They had been close friends, closer it seemed than he was to her or Ánra, probably because it was a guy and not another girl. Boraht had been a blade duelist, with his carnelian long sword. He had practiced with Elk, ate with him, played tricks on him, and everything else boys usually do. Then he had gotten into the city. He slowly lost himself in the mugs and rooms of the slums. He stopped coming to classes. Elk had visited him, tried reasoning with him, even nursed his hangovers, but none of it had gotten through. It was all over when Boraht he’d rashly injured another student in the throes of his intoxicated state.

The banishment had been public, with Boraht absolutely sober. He had turned to Elk, begging him for help as the servants pushed him through the gates, near to screaming out his name. Elk had just watched, not even trying to help. His eyes had been stone cold, completely impassive except for the glint of disgust. Rae had stood with him until Boraht’s screaming turned to sobbing, until Elk had walked away.

She’d asked him, almost timidly, what he was feeling. Did he think Boraht had been justly punished? Why hadn’t he tried to help him again? Boraht had been pleading so fervently, and Elk had just turned his back, hadn’t even given him any last condolences. Elk had just stared at her, with the same cold and blank expression. “I couldn’t stand him anymore,” he had said. “I couldn’t stand him not knowing himself and where he was going. How he was wasting his life and ignoring my help.” Sadness had crept into his face then. “I couldn’t stand to see him suffering in the dark, knowing he wasn’t going to go to the light even it was blazing in his face.”

As this memory replayed in her mind, Rae stared back at her cousin. “I’m not hiding anything from you Elk. It’s just something I have to figure out on my own. Something I can’t even bring myself to say outloud; I can barely admit it to myself. It’s just confusing and irrational and always on my mind.” She sighed. “But I promise, once I figure it out for myself, I’ll tell you.” The cousins glared determinedly at each other, each willing the other submit. Elk finally released her. “Fine,” he said. “You figure it out.” He started to walk down the hall towards his own room. “Just make sure you don’t turn out like him,” he called, without looking back.

Rae stood there and shivered. So he too had been thinking of Boraht. Was she acting so much like the carnelian duelist? She didn’t drink or waste her time in the city. “I couldn’t stand him not knowing himself and where he was going.” Elk’s words resonated in her mind. Is that what he sees? she wondered. That I don’t know myself? She looked out over the railing and realized the rain had stopped and that the clouds were starting to break. Do I know myself?

After the exhilaration of working in the kitchens, Rae had thought she would just relax in her room, read a book, maybe go through some katas. Now, after her conversation with Elk, she felt on edge. She couldn’t describe the feeling, just that it seemed to be emphasizing her prior apprehension. Making up her mind, she hurried back down the stairs, her staff quivering in time with her steps.

Beyond the stables, right on the shore of the Turan River, there was a small granite doorway leading under the banks, even under the Turan River itself. The tunnel eventually opened up into a small cavern, with a pool at the center, and crystals growing around the edge. There were also crystal at the bottom of the pool, which seemed to give a kind of light, making the ripples of the water dance on the walls. It was here that Rae eased herself to the ground, staying as silent as possible. It was warm down here, with the smell of rock and water filtering through the air. Rae slid out her daggers and placed them in front of her, pointing towards the water’s edge. Only a year had passed, only a year.

The light from the pool reflected off the obsidian blades, seeming to give them a life of their own. They had earned their obsidian, she had earned them. For six years she had fought with them, sharpened them, cut herself with them. For six years, she had hunted with them, slept with them, protected them. On the eve of her sixteenth she had truly bonded with them. It was called the Alchacite Ritual.

Meyrin was one of the three fighting schools of Kyundi, the renowned warlord of eight hundred years past. Each school specialized in different types of combat: Meryin focused on range and diversity, name a weapon and a student here could fight with it; Exertim was closer aligned with the average military camps, focusing on army maneuvers, brute strength and strategy; Velrit was more behind the lines, centering around stealth, speed, and hand-to-hand combat. Each school had their own type of coming-of-age ceremony; Rae felt that Meryin’s was the most personal. Once entering into Meyrin, a student would be taught the basics of every weapon that could ever be learned. Of course, many weapon designs were offshoots of others, so the basics were grouped into categories. Still, preliminary training took from between one to two years; Rae had finished in a year and a half. Throughout basic training, the student was asked to figure out what weapon they were the most comfortable with, and at the end, they would be presented with their very own weapon of choice. For Rae, it had been twin daggers, with simple wooden hilts and no crossguards. The handles had worn with time, and she’d had to replace both of them on many occasions. Rae had also been forced to repair each of the blades herself, when they had become chipped beyond a whetstone’s touch. After three or so years, it had finally been her turn, her Alchacite Ritual.

Cove had lead her down to this pool, and left her there. He had told her that when she felt it to be right, to drop her daggers into the pool. “Do not touch the water,” he had said. “Do not speak, do not call for help. You will stay here until you know you can leave.” Rae shivered. She still remembered how frightened she had been, how she had worried about not knowing the right time, or leaving too soon. She had sat there, probably where she sat now, and waited for what seemed like hours, staring at the pool of water. Rae had started to doze off when all of sudden she felt a spike of energy in the air. Snapping her eyes open, she had beheld the pool, glowing with a more vibrant color, the ripples along the wall seeming to be more agitated. As if guided by an invisible hand, Rae had unsheathed her daggers and held them over the pool of light.

Rae stood at that pool now, gazing at the crystalline bottom. She could see, even now, what it had looked like that night. A luminescent white, despite the colors dancing in the cavern, obscuring the its depths. She had hesitated, both daggers pointing to the surface of the water. Another spike of energy released her hand, and the daggers had dropped. Rae collapsed after that, as if letting go of her weapons had caused her to lose something inside of herself. It was painful, though not; it hurt, but it was gentle. The pool had then lost all it’s light, leaving Rae alone in the dark, listening to the tiny waves against the stone. She hadn’t seen light until she returned to the surface. She had known her time was over when another roll of energy passed around her. Without questioning, really without thinking, she had left, climbing the tunnel back to the shores of the Turan. Once on the bank, Rae had somehow regained her sense of awareness. She remembered the panic, realizing that her daggers were still in that pool of light., when to her great surprise, found them sheathed at her waist.

That was her Alchacite Ritual. A journey to water, ending in darkness, then finding light. The light had been her daggers, transformed. They had become pure obsidian, handle and all. It was all a part of the Ritual. Once changed, the weapon would never again dull or break, but stay as dangerous as the day they had been made. Rae looked back at them, lying on the ground. They had been with her through so much, and yet… the connection between person and weapon did not seem complete, as if the bond had reached a wall it could not pass.

Cove had told her that obsidian represented internal foresight and healing, that it represented her. “Whole lot of good it’s doing me,” Rae whispered to the cavern. “I can’t even admit it to myself, let alone know how to resolve it.” She sank back down to the floor. “I can’t do it. I just can’t live up to her. To them. Why do they always have to expect so much, think so highly?” The walls echoed with the sound of her pounding fist. “Why do I feel so alone, when they are so near?” She knew that she knew the answer, all the answers. Because she was different. Because she was afraid. Because she was... weak.

Rae let herself stay there, feeling the tears slide down her face. She allowed it, knowing the feeling would pass, knowing it was just a part of her destiny, to feel such. Ánra could never know; if she did, it would break her as well. Elk would never know; as concerned as he was he just couldn’t read people as well as her. Maybe that was part of the problem, part of the block. Watching everyone else had erased her ability to decipher herself, making her question whether she was just copying someone else’s feelings onto her own emotional slate. Was that why the bond had stopped, even weakened? Because she couldn’t even find a way to foresee herself?

Rae had heard of that happening before, Meryin students falling away when they no longer lived up to the symbol their weapons represented. Never before had it occurred that it could happen to her. The tears fell, puddling at between her clenched fists. It hurt, just to think of it. They couldn’t know. Or could they? Was that the solution? To pour it all out to another? Her head wracked with ideas. No, she wasn’t thinking clearly, that was not the way; they would laugh and scorn her. Then why the feeling? It felt almost right. No, don’t give in to that shadow, that false light.

Rae stayed there, the pressure building, the expectations mounting, the loneliness choking. She was different, that’s all there was to it. She stayed there until the fifth bell of noon. As it’s ringing echoed down into the cavern, she wiped her nose. What would her parents think? Rae smiled a little, knowing that her mother would’ve both hugged her and reprimanded her, telling her to get up and stop moping. Her father would’ve told her to get some rest. Dredging up her energy, she took a deep breath.

“Now is not the time to worry about such things,” she scolded herself. “They’re not important. There are others who need more worrying about, I am not important.” She sheathed her daggers. “But that doesn’t mean I am alone.” Rae muttered the phrase under her breathe as she climbed back to the surface. “I am not alone...I am not alone...I am not alone.” When her head broke into the early evening air, her head cleared out of its foggy haze. “I am not alone,” she said to the river. And knew it.

Chapter 1: https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2154336-Part-1-Uneasieness
Chapter 2: https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2154732-Part-2-Needed
Chapter 4: https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2186226-Part-4-Just-Try-Me