I probably should have found that unsettling, but instead I just felt drawn to it.
Like I wanted to join him there.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Kieran
The walk back to Arken’s apartment was quiet, but the silence between us felt comfortable.
Every now and again, I’d steal a glance at her to make sure she felt the same way, confirming it in the soft, serene expression she held as her eyes wandered over the beauty that was Sophrosyne at night.
Our conversation on the wall left me more introspective than usual, if not a bit unsettled. Even though I’d kept all confidentialities in check, I hadn’t opened up to anyone like that in a very, very long time. I felt a certain ease around Arken, one that I would have to be more actively aware of going forward, I realized.
I wasn’t against opening up with her to an extent—I knew that was part of friendship, but I was still treading dangerous ground. There were some things that I simply couldn’t share with her, and would never be able to share with anyone.
That said, I was nothing if not a master at compartmentalization, so I’d figure it out. I had only been thrown for a moment, because opening said compartments was atypical behavior… but I couldn’t lie to myself and pretend that I hadn’t felt some relief, like I had released just the tiniest amount of pressure in the back of my head.
“Hey, Kier?”
My ears perked up, both eager for the distraction and the odd satisfaction of hearing her shorten my name with any sort of familiarity.
“Yeah?”
“How familiar are you with myths and legends?”
I raised a brow, curious as to where she was going with this.
“I’m decently versed in them, I suppose. I mean, clearly I have a penchant for museums and secret scraps of Sophrosyne lore. Why do you ask?”
“Have you ever heard the Irrosi legend about the Harbingers, and a second cataclysm?”
A sudden weight plummeted in the pit of my stomach.
Why was she asking about that legend, of all things?
“I’m familiar, yes,” I replied, keeping my voice even. Casual. “Did they cover that in class today or something?”
“Not exactly. They were talking about the differences between mortal and Aetherborne magicks today, and some guy brought it up as a side tangent. I wasn’t sure if they were exaggerating, or making some shit up,” she explained.
“Well, I mean, most legends are made up—stitched together with inaccuracies and misinterpretation,” I replied.
Though this one was an exception…
“I beg to differ, but I’ll put that particular argument on hold,” Arken said. “But… Do the people of Irros really believe that? That some errant Conduit could come along and upset the aether of the world again to such an extent that it would bring about another Cataclysm?”
Clearly, this was Arken’s latest hyperfixation. I sighed internally. Leave it to her to get wrapped up in the concept of the end of days.
“I couldn’t tell you—I’ve never been to Irros, and haven’t studied enough anthropology to know whether or not that’s still a commonly held belief.”
“Oh.”
I glanced over at her to find her staring into space, chewing at her lip.
“They’re just stories, Ark,” I said.
Or nightmares.
“Ah, yeah. I know,” she replied. “Every now and again, I just get struck by some reminder that the world is a much bigger place than I could have ever truly fathomed. As much as Amaretta taught me back home, it was always so self-contained to that tiny little village. Legends and myths like that were just as distant as the stars in the night sky. Here in Sophrosyne, they feel… closer to reality, somehow.”