How Journeys End Chapter Twenty-Five: Lovers

How Journeys End by Pineapple | Content Warnings

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The first time Siana woke up, it was shortly after the shatter. Lady Via had grabbed her by the face, sucking all the air from her lungs. Siana had thought only that she needed oxygen—she needed to breathe. She needed to live.

So, she had summoned flowers, but they all died quickly after giving her enough to survive to the next second. Lady Via had tried to cut them off from it, tried to keep her from being able to breathe. Lady Via was weak. She was beaten and tired and she was dying the same as Siana was, and Siana’s next thought was that she had to get out of the spell Lady Via had cast if she wanted to ever see Camellia again.

The teleportation Siana managed must have worked, but not completely. It must have worked because she was outside and she was still alive. She was in so much pain that she couldn’t sit up—and the pain meant that she was alive. The view of the sky was nice. It was a deep blue, and the clouds were moving fast across it. The grass underneath her was dry and prickly, and Siana wondered if she’d taken the life from the grass to try to survive here, too.

It hadn’t worked completely because Lady Via wasn’t here. There was a body, but… the head was gone. There was blood on the clothes, but no skin. It was a bare skeleton.

Siana thought she really must be a parasite if she’d take the life of someone so literally.

The second time Siana woke up, she was in a house. There was a fire lit in a fireplace, and the blankets were warm. It still hurt to move.

“There you are,” a voice said across the room.

She might have startled, if she’d had the energy. When Siana turned her head, she saw a young man approaching. He looked a few years younger than she did but friendly in the way he smiled.

“Lucky to be alive,” he remarked. “Or perhaps skilled, rather.”

Siana didn’t really know what to say. She didn’t know how to respond to that, or where to start with her questions.

The man sat next to the bed. “Excuse me,” he warned, grabbing her wrist delicately. “Your pulse is still weak. But you woke up, and that’s a start.”

His voice was somewhat melodic, or maybe it was the sheer energy of being awake that was making Siana want to sleep again.

“A friend of mine used to get into fights all the time and I had to stitch her up,” he was saying. “But you were certainly a piece of work. Don’t fall asleep yet. May I ask your name?”

“It’s… Siana,” she answered with tremendous effort.

The man had black, almost curly hair. When he looked up into her face, his smile brightened, and she saw that his eyes were yellow. “Siana,” he repeated. “I don’t expect you’ll have the energy to eat, so I’ll continue to try and feed you in other ways.”

“Other…?”

“A woman I knew when I was younger taught me a trick,” he explained. “May I?”

He placed a gentle hand over Siana’s middle and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. She could feel magic coming from him into her, warm like tea or soup. It reminded her of her mother.

“Who are…?” Siana’s eyelids were getting heavy. “…Your name?”

“My name?”

She couldn’t keep herself awake much longer, only conscious that she’d been asleep when she woke up because of a noise or a dream. It became harder and harder each time to wake up and listen.

“Call me Night,” he answered, and she dreamed not of the moon, but the sun.

The third time Siana woke up, she was well enough to eat. Night, the young man who owned the home she was in, helped her sit up and helped her to eat. If she’d been herself, she would have cared more. But she was no longer a princess, no longer anyone important. It wasn’t disgraceful if she remembered this was what she had to do if she ever wanted to find Camellia, if she was even still alive.

“Would you like something to read?” Night asked. “Or just to go back to sleep, perhaps?”

“I think I’d rather sleep,” Siana said.

Night smiled and helped her to lay back down, setting her bowl on the table in the middle of the room. He looked up at the sound of a door.

“Night!” a voice called.

“Ah…” Night groaned out, his smile falling into something closer to annoyance. “One moment, please.”

“If you’ve picked up another fox to nurse back to—” The door to their room slammed open, and the man in the doorway stopped, his eyes falling to Siana.

“It’s rude to come into a room without knocking,” Night tutted. “She’s recovering.”

 Siana recognized this man. She’d never met him, but she’d seen him before. He’d worked in the castle, briefly, with her mother. He came from a family of nobles who used ice magic. He wasn’t married, and he had no children, but his siblings did. Tarra knew them, if she remembered right, but Siana never had the pleasure of meeting them.

Night tucked the blanket around Siana’s torso, covering her wounds. “Edel, this is—”

“Your Highness,” he finished.

Night stared at the man, at Edel, before he looked back at Siana.

“Night, you need to write your brother,” Edel said, his voice tight. “Have you even read the letters he’s sent you?”

Night shrugged. “Did he send you to check up on me?” he asked, finally standing from his seat next to Siana. There were piles of papers on the table, next to the bowl. “I’ve been busy.”

Siana pushed herself up, and Night panicked, flitting back to her side to help her. “Lord Edel,” she grit out between her teeth and the pain shooting through her body. “Please tell me…”

Edel moved towards the bed, kneeling at the side next to Night. “I don’t wish to upset you, Your Highness.”

“My people, are they…”

Edel shot a glare at Night, crows feet intensifying his look of disappointment. “Had Night read his mail, he might have been able to keep you updated on the news in Nastur.”

“She only told me her name,” Night huffed. “As if Day would tell me to be on the lookout for the missing royal.”

Her head was spinning. She was realizing many things at once. She was not in Nastur. The man taking care of her was brother to Day, the leader of the rebels who had attacked her castle, and childhood friend to Camellia. She felt sick.

The next few times she woke up, she ate and Edel and Night relayed new information to her in pieces. She was able to eat more and stay awake longer as time went on. She could feel herself gaining strength physically, but mentally and emotionally, she didn’t know how to handle what she was being told.

Lord Denia Pine was active in Nastur’s court, aiding in recovery as much as he was able. He’d been the one to draft the treaty between the three kingdoms of Drangea, Gladiolus, and Nastur. Reports of rebellion are down.

Edel told her that it was spreading amongst the elite that King William had killed Queen Ann, and that Lady Via encouraged the turmoil in the land. People are calling the late Princess Siana Snapdragon, crediting her with ending the post-war fighting that King William couldn’t.

Chrysan had lost his hand. He was recovering more quickly than she was. He hadn’t claimed the throne, but he was acting as an advisor, according to Edel.

It was nearly a month since she’d first learned Night’s name. Three months since the night she’d teleported herself and Lady Via’s body to Gladiolus in order to survive. She was doing well enough to walk now, but Night explicitly forbade her from lifting anything heavy or helping in the fields.

Weeks passed as she watched Night work the fields he’d found Siana in. He told her that he’d buried the body he found with her in the forest just west of his land, if she wanted to pay respects. Siana rejected the idea and apologized. She doubted anything would grow there now.

As time went by, she was soon able to aid him with his crops. There were enough carrots for him and his neighbors, who came over and asked if he had any food to spare. On weekends, he went to sell vegetables in a nearby town.

She’d gone with him and Edel, once. The people there were relaxed and laughing. They greeted Night like old friends, telling him of their children’s latest achievements in the new schools. Food was growing and plenty, from the look of the markets. She imagined it would only trend upwards now that they were no longer at war.

The sight should have filled her with hope, but it only made her restless. Things were over. The world was at peace. Her country and her people were doing well, and so were the ones they’d hurt. She was no longer in danger, and neither were those she loved.

She should have been content. And she might have been, if she’d never met Camellia.

Camellia was the first thing she had asked about, once she knew her country wasn’t decimated. Her people were in good hands with Day Bellis leading them. It eased her mind, but not her heart. The world was at peace, but she was not. She would never be, until she knew fighting and surviving was worth it, when she saw Camellia again.

So, Siana practiced the recovery exercises she’d seen Camellia do what felt like years ago. And soon she would be strong enough to leave and look for Camellia, because, according to Day’s letters, Camellia had left the castle once things had settled.

“I’ll be leaving soon to return to Nastur,” Edel said to Siana one day. They were sitting outside, watching the sky turn dark. The clouds moved quickly across the blue, much as they did the first day Siana woke up. “Night has told Day of your survival. I’m sure Lady Tarra and Lord Pine know, as well.”

“May I accompany you?”

He looked at her with an undecipherable look, his expression cold.

“Rest assured, I’ve no interest in the throne,” she said. “I simply wish to travel. I only want to return to my homeland and find Camellia.”

“I believe you,” he answered, turning his head back to the horizon. “I see Night has, once again, not told you of his brother’s letters.”

“Lord Edel, I’m afraid your meaning escapes me.”

He simply nodded outwards, towards the road. Siana could hear the sound of Night’s cart, the clopping of hooves. She rose to greet him and watch his approach.

There were two horses instead of the usual one. He must have bought one for Edel to set out on, Siana thought. When there was a second silhouette sitting on the cart next to him, she thought he must have met someone else in need. He was kind, and often aided those he could. Siana envied his pure heart.

“Do you remember King William’s message spell? Chrysan’s looks much the same,” Edel said. He groaned as he stood. “I simply mean that you may have a new home is all.”

He went into the house before Siana could continue to question him. When she turned to shout a clarifying question to Night, she saw clearly the silhouette running ahead of the wagon.

“My Lady!” it shouted.

Siana opened her arms and Camellia ran into them.

“I knew you survived,” she whispered into Siana’s skin. “I knew you wouldn’t leave me.”

“Never,” Siana said back. She squeezed her eyes shut, clutching onto Camellia like she might disappear. “Nothing could take me away from you.”

“My Lady,” she said again, pressing a kiss to Siana’s lips. “Siana.”

And she knew it was over, and that it had been worth it.