ARC 7-Cursed Fates-63 (Patreon)

“What are you doing in the cold?”

“Hm?” I look up to find that the sun has sprinted toward the horizon and Kierra is standing over me. I remember sitting down after sending Geneva away, not wanting to have our next conversation under the sway of anger and self-recrimination. Time must have gotten away from me. “Nothing, I guess.”

“…come. You can help me salvage the garden.”

At her words, I finally notice the large axe she carries on in one hand and the cart behind her, piled high with copious amounts of rope, empty wooden boxes, and a lone spade. Where did she get this stuff? Suppose she had Earl make a trip. He practically does everything for the house and does an admirable job, but maybe he needs a little help? Someone who could do time-consuming errands like going to the market or delivering messages. Mm, that’s a good idea. Really, what respectable house only has four servants?

“Lou?”

“Sorry, a little distracted. Love to help. Though I’m a little worried that I’ll break something.”

“I will harvest the flowers. You can help me with the trees.”

“What are you going to do with them? It’ll be a pain in the ass to transport them.” Not saying I wouldn’t, there are very few things I wouldn’t do for my lovely wife, but it’ll definitely pose a problem. Wagons won’t cut it.

“First, make them more manageable. Watch.”

She motions me to take a few steps back before approaching one of the brown giants. Her sharp gaze flicks over it before she hefts the axe. She plants her feet firmly before swinging the tool in a powerful blow, her body twisting to follow her arms.

The blade bites deeply into the wood, burying the entirety of the head. Her next swings are just as powerful and controlled, carving a smile into the base of the tree. When she finishes, she places a glowing hand on the trunk and it falls backward, creating quite the ruckus as it hits the ground.

“If I were back home, the woodsmen would stop here. Many woodworkers have different ways of processing their material and it can be treated in different ways to strengthen it or make it more resistant to certain types of damage. But I think this wood is too tough for the people of your kingdom. A few swings is all it takes to dull the edge of my weapon.” She holds up her ax, glaring at the edge before shrugging. “It must be cut to easier sizes if we hope to sell it.”

“Surprised you want to sell.”

“What use do we have for a so much wood?”

“Oh, I can’t think of anything, but I thought you were protective of goods from your home. Given you’ve been dodging the invitation to trade with Marquis Guiness.”

She huffs as she walks along the tree, eyes flicking over it. Her axe comes down a few times and she separates from the trunk a log as long as she is tall. “I am not protective. It is an inconvenience. He wants me to bring him these things so he can avoid the trouble of getting them himself. If a trading party reaches Dusk and offers them something of worth, they will happily trade him the mana ore he wants so much. He does not need me and I am not here for his convenience.”

She cuts away another log. “Besides, it would be a constant cause of annoyance. My people will not be interested in permanent relations with this kingdom. No offense my love, but our cultures are…incompatible.”

Haha, does she think she needs to tell me that?

“He will need to either prove himself or have a proven intermediary. So, if I facilitate trade for him once, he will want me to do it again. And not just him. When word spreads that I am an open channel to another country’s markets, every merchant with a nose for opportunity will seek me out. The marquis’ enemies will seek to destroy or sabotage me to eliminate a competitor’s advantage.

“Then there is the matter of the king. A ruler would not want something so lucrative outside of his purview. Not to mention wanting to use me for political matters. As I said, endless annoyances. The marquis has yet to offer me anything worth the bother.”

Anyone else would be worried about themselves or their families being in danger. Being in the center of raging interests can be fatal. But to Kierra, it really is just about not wanting to be bothered.

Now that I’ve had a taste of her power, I understand. How simpler the world is when you can’t be cut by a common sword, pierced by an arrow shot from an average archer, and can crush a knight’s head through his helmet. She’s lived much of her life with that confidence. I wonder what that felt like. Being so sure of yourself, because of yourself, not your family, all the time. And how devastating it must have been when that confidence was shattered.

“Kii?”

“Hm?” she asks while cutting another log.

“What was that earlier? When I…told you about my father. You seemed scared.”

She pauses. I can tell from her tense shoulders that she doesn’t want to talk about it but after a few long moments, she buries the axe into a trunk with a deep sigh.

“In Dusk, death is…” she starts without turning to face me, voice trailing off. “It is similar to Victory but different. Death is not a bad thing and is accepted as part of life. I have known plenty who have perished on the road to strength. But that is only when we are young and foolish. When someone makes it to their first century, they are strong enough and wise enough that they can at least survive even the most lethal situations.

“Most do not have children until they are older still, secure in their own power and knowledgeable enough to want to pass their knowledge on rather than chase greater understanding. Children do not expect their parents to die from anything other than natural causes. Sometimes, they are together for centuries. A loss like that…it can change people. Destroy people.”

She finally turns to face me, smiling tremulously. “I know you and your father only had a fraction of the time, but that bond exists all the same and you are my gentle conqueror. When I thought of seeing the empty gaze of mad grief reflected in your own eyes, I…panicked. A bit.”

“Just a little,” I say softly, holding back a chuckle as my heart is suffused in warmth.

She motions me over, stepping behind me and crossing her arms over my shoulders before laying her chin atop my head. “Losing a family member is bad but losing a spouse is even worse. When one half of a union that has been together for centuries dies, it is not unusual for the other half to perish soon after. Even by natural means. Our best healers cannot put a name to it but there is a sickness of the heart that cannot be healed. It poisons the mind and the body, causing someone to wither away. It is like their very being turns against itself. That illness has the strength to fell mountains amongst my people. A poison my magic cannot combat. Yes, it is terrifying.”

I can’t imagine. Losing Kierra right now would be…I don’t want to think about it. But losing her after we’d been together for hundreds of years? She wouldn’t be my wife by then. She’d be a part of my reality. Something as certain and necessary as the sun’s light. To have that ripped away? There are no words. And that is me imagining it. I pity the poor bastards who have to live through it. Or fail to.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I tell her as I pat her arm.

She nuzzles the top of my head. “Mm. I know. In fact, that was one of the main reasons why I, hm, courted you.”

“Courted? Is that what you call that?” I don’t think such a polite word should be used. “What do you mean?” I ask after she chuckles.

“I have a pure affinity. Because of my magic, I am effectively immortal. The members of my race are long-lived but far from. Unless I chose a partner with my talent, I would eventually lose them. That was something I always kept in mind and why I never had a serious relationship.

“But you. From the first day I met you, I understood you were just as durable as me. Perhaps more. Your original form is not flesh and blood. Therefore, it will not age and decay. You were another immortal. Cute, caring, amusing, and able to satisfy me.” She sighs, this time happily. “It was as if the Great Spirit had crafted my perfect partner and dropped her into my lap. I could let myself love.”

I’ve had a similar thought. It was no accident that Cosmo sent me to the Enchanted Forest. Though her words have raised an interesting question. Did he arrange my meeting for my sake or for hers? Was my divine father already interested in Kierra?

I can imagine it. It makes more sense that he saved me because I was a good fit for Kierra than because he was interested in the girl I was. Self-depreciating, maybe. I could have impressed him. It could have truly been a wild whim. But in my experience, few things are as random as they seem.

Someone is always pulling the strings and profiting.

My benefactor he may be, but the thought of the powerful elemental having designs on my wife, or perhaps the two of us together, is concerning. More concerning is the question of his influence. How many people in this kingdom, or even this world, have connections to the creature powerful enough to be worshiped as a deity and has a love for chaos?

“That is enough solemn talk.” Kierra steps back from me and hands me the axe. “Grief is poisonous if taken in large doses. For now, let there only be work.”