Moving into Sahora’s skin felt like lightning. Her whole body vibrated with a kind of sensory overload.
Ma’s eyes glowed with tears under the firelight.
I smirked at her. “Hi, Ma, I miss you.”
As I walked past Pa, I bumped his shoulder. “You too, Pa.”
He grabbed my arm as I tried to walk away. I turned towards him.
His eyes were heavy, and large bags hung under them. “We miss you too; we can’t wait to have you home one day.”
He released my arm, and I smiled. “Soon.”
Then I turned back and walked over to Ami and Cyrus’s tent.
I poked my hand inside, waving it slightly. “Sahora said I could come forward. To talk to you, Ami.”
A pause so heavy it made my chest ache as the cries slowed and small sniffles came from the tent.
I waited.
“You can come in, Kathera,” Cyrus said, his voice tight.
I stepped through the tent flap. Ami sat on her bedroll, her face slightly puffy. Slowly, I stood in the tent entryway.
Cyrus stood and eyed me warily. “I’ll just be outside.”
He walked past me, joining the other at the fire.
The tent smelled faintly of damp paper; it was clear to see why. Various types of maps and scrolls were sprawled across the tent.
“I just wanted to say I am sorry that I blocked you from coming into the throne room that day.” As the words left my mouth, it felt like the battle I had been fighting had finally ended.
“We could have found another way.” She said curtly, folding her arms. Her golden eye pierced me as I looked at her.
I shook my head. “No, it was what the Fates needed me to do.”
“Damn Fate, Kathera! What happened to choosing friendship over destiny?” Ami’s voice was rough with grief. She threw her arms up in frustration, then let them fall into her lap.
I looked at her, finally looking at my best friend.
My sister, after a century.
She sat on the bedroll, her bronze skin glowing slightly. Her long braids held beads from her triumphant sparring matches, and a purple cloak rested on her shoulders. Everything was the same until I saw her hands she had resting in her lap.
Scabbed pink skin covered both her palms.
I knelt down on the ground in front of her bedroll. “What happened?” Reflexively, I leaned towards her to grab them.
She pulled her hands tight around her chest.
“You.” Her words hit me in a way that caused nausea to form in Sahora’s body.
“I fought those guards.” She lifted her head defiantly. “I didn’t want to lose you.”
“You didn’t have a weapon.” I breathed.
“I didn’t need one.” She tried to hide the smile forming on her lips. “I was trained by your father.”
“Fair point.” I smiled back at her.
Silence again as the truth of what happened settled in.
“Why did you do it?” She finally asked. “Don’t tell me it was Fate. Tell me why.”
I took a deep breath; I could never hide the truth from her. “I wanted to give everyone time.”
“Time for what?” She pushed, lifting a brow.
“Time for someone stronger to come. Time for the pieces Fate said needed to fall into place to, well, fall into place.” I shrugged, knowing I was being too nonchalant about this, but I honestly wasn’t sure how to process it.
She nodded, “Fine. But don’t do that to me again.”
I grinned, “Never.”