Ashes And Spirit (Book 3) (55 page)

“I didn’t mean to stay away so long.” Kirynn walked past her into the sterile yet comfortable interior.

Her mother closed the door. “You had your orders. I would have been offended if you had dishonored yourself and this family by coming home to visit.” She paused then continued, “However, it would have been nice had you visited sooner once you became a Dragon Rider. At least that is what I heard you are now.”

“Yes, I am a Dragon Rider. Syrakynn, my red, is currently resting on one of the larger towers of the castle.” The thought of the dragon brought a small smile to Kirynn’s face. “I wish I could have come sooner too. Situations in other nations prevented it.”

“Another thing I understand perfectly. Don’t misinterpret this as a scolding or intention to cause guilt. I’m merely stating my wishes. As we both know, wishes and needs rarely align themselves.” Dahliynn motioned toward the chairs in the sitting room. “Have a seat. There is much to catch up on, and I have many questions.”

Kirynn nodded and settled onto an uncomfortable cushioned chair as Dahliynn walked down the narrow hall to the kitchen located in the back of the house. Though her mother wasn’t warm like Marda, Kirynn found comfort in the older woman’s logical and colder view of life and the world. She often told her as a child that the world was to be lived in how it was—not how one wished it to be. “If wishes were wings, sheep would fly free from their pens,” was Dahliynn’s favorite saying.

A hard woman with a hard heart that still managed to love, her mother was exactly what she needed now. Kirynn’s three older brothers had died in the war with Kanther. Her father had died shortly after she gained her braid. Her grandparents were all gone. Only she and her younger sister were left. No one Kirynn knew understood loss and how to get past it as well as her mother—with the exception of Emallya but the time of seeking her advice was gone.

Dahliynn returned with a tray of tea and scones. She set the gleaming silver tea service down on the low table between them and poured tea into two matching cups. The scent of rosehips rose with the steam. They both remained silent until Dahliynn settled into a chair and they had both taken a sip of the hot liquid. After the pleasantries, her mother said, “Tell me everything. I want to know it all. Or at least what you are at liberty to tell.”

Kirynn took a bite of scone and washed it down with another drink of tea as she collected her thoughts. “There is a lot to tell.”

Dahliynn leaned back in her chair. “Unless you need to rush off, we have plenty of time.”

“I have nowhere to be at the moment.” Kirynn took another sip of tea and began to tell her mother everything that had happened since she had fled in the night after setting a man’s head on fire.

Kirynn watched the familiar patterns of light through the windows as the sun moved slowly across the sky. It felt somewhat comforting as she retold the events of the last few years. When she came to the battle of Shadereen—to Welan—Kirynn stopped. She sipped her second cup of tea, stalling while she gathered her emotions under control.

Finally she whispered, “They’re all gone. Every one of them except a single child—”

“And you can’t think about it without feeling such deep sorrow that your insides feel broken,” Dahliynn finished.

Kirynn looked at her mother in surprise. “How did you know?”

“You were cushioned from the deaths of your brothers and father by distance. It was just something that happened. You have watched friends die in the heat of battle. But you’ve never watched people you cared deeply about cut down with no protection. It’s bound to leave scars that hurt. Scars I know well. I carry many of the same within my own heart.”

“How do I shut it out? I can’t keep carrying it.”

Dahliynn sighed and set her cup down on the tray. “Kirynn, you will always carry it just as you do physical scars. They don’t go away. As far as shutting it out, it’s possible if you look at the situation differently.”

“How am I looking at it?” Kirynn frowned. How else was she supposed to look at it? She shifted on the hard chair and tightened her hands on the teacup.

Dahliynn answered, “There is danger in changing your perceptions. As it is now, you hurt for a small group of people. If you change, it’s possible to find a balance, or you may experience deeper grief.”

Kirynn suppressed a flash of irritation at her mother’s cryptic meaning and held back her sarcastic reply. Dragon Rider or not, braid wearer or not, her mother would give her a sound thrashing if she spoke to her that way. “I’d like to find a balance.”

Dahliynn appraised her in silence for so long Kirynn began to wonder if her mother would tell her. Finally, Dahliynn nodded. “I do believe you can achieve balance. Not everyone has the strength. You, however, are made of a stronger mettle than many.”

“So help me find it again.”

“Very well. It is because you only think the people of Welan are worth grieving for that you are looking at it wrong.”

Kirynn started to protest, but Dahliynn stopped her. “Don’t try to deny it. Your normal way of thinking is what allows you to kill efficiently. You view people as pieces on a battlefield—some will fall and some will move to the next battle. It allows you to shut yourself off from things that give others nightmares. There’s nothing wrong with this.

“The problem is when you stop thinking of people as pieces and get to know them. You can’t change that now and likely wouldn’t if you could. Now you must learn to change how you view the pieces as a whole because if you don’t you become a hypocrite.”

“A
hypocrite
? Because I cared about the people of Welan?” Kirynn’s voice rose louder with each word.

“Not because you cared about the people of Welan, but because you don’t care about all of the other people you think of as pieces.”

“Of course I care about them. Why do you think I fly into battle with Syrakynn? For my health?”

Dahliynn chuckled. “My dear child, you don’t fly into battle because you care about the pieces on the board. You do it because it’s your duty. Because that’s what you’ve trained your entire life to do.”

Kirynn blinked, stunned by the accuracy of the statement as it hit home.

“What you haven’t realized, and this is where changing perceptions becomes dangerous,” Dahliynn paused and looked into her eyes, “is that every piece on the board is Welan.”

“How is every piece like Welan?” Kirynn challenged.

“Because they’re all people. If you took a moment to know them, you would find everyone had likes and dislikes, spouses, children, mothers, fathers—everything that Welan had. To grieve for Welan but not others strips their humanity away, reducing them only to pieces. You are struggling because the people of Welan weren’t pieces to you. To put it in perspective, you have to quit seeing the rest as pieces, and instead, as people.”

Kirynn’s mind and heart shrank away from the idea, however, she forced herself to understand as her mother suggested.

Dahliynn nodded as she watched Kirynn process the information. Her mother continued, “The majority of Calladar is dead. Were their lives any less than those lost in Welan?”

Unable to speak, Kirynn simply shook her head.

“Many died in Trilene last year. Are they less than Welan?” Dahliynn asked. “Whether someone wades willingly into battle with weapons they’ve trained to use, or they simply pick up a pitchfork and try to defend themselves, their lives are no less than any others. You need to reduce the people of Welan to pieces or elevate every life lost to the same as Welan. Either way, your perceptions will change.”

Kirynn remained silent as she struggled with the sudden grief that threatened to overwhelm her. She looked at her mother with tears in her eyes that would never be shed. “I don’t think I can do either and find a balance.”

Dahliynn suddenly stood, a fierce expression on her face. “You don’t know if you can? Of course you can. You are Kirynn Izenar, wearer of the braid, rider of a red dragon, and
my
daughter. You can and you will because I accept nothing less.”

“How do I see everyone as more than pieces and not find more grief?” Kirynn also stood.

“Because you will begin to realize that every life is worth something and no matter what, in the end, everyone dies. In war, in childhood, in bed, and in a myriad of other ways. How someone dies does not make them special, anyone can do it. It’s how they lived that matters because not everyone lives even while they’re alive.

“You find your balance when you stop grieving their deaths and start celebrating their lives. Stop weeping for one and not another. Suck it up and look at it differently.” Dahliynn bent and grabbed the tray. “I will check with the cook on the evening meal. You need to think about what I’ve said. It’s time to set your grief over death aside, my daughter, and find the joy in lives you knew. Else you will be crushed under the weight of what you have seen and what is to come. It’s all right to feel sadness over the loss of life. It isn’t all right to let it consume you.”

Kirynn sat down again, her thoughts reeling. Never had she felt so off-kilter. Every death she’d seen took on new meaning, new grief, and at the same time, the weight of Welan lifted.

“She’s right, you know. The focus has to be on the lives saved rather than on those lost. Otherwise, you never know anything but despair,”
Syrakynn sent.

She sat there alone for a long time and slowly she began to see life and death from a different perspective. It didn’t erase the ache inside, but she sensed it would eventually. At some point in the future, she would find the distance she needed—not the one trained into her in Boromar. This would be a distance she wouldn’t have to struggle to come back from.

After far more time had passed than needed to check on the progress of the evening meal, Kirynn stood and followed the delicious smells down the narrow hall to the kitchen. A woman with graying hair worked over one hearth fire while a younger woman stirred a pot hanging in the second.

Dahliynn stood talking quietly with the older cook. She smiled at Kirynn and crossed the large room to her. “I trust you have found your balance?”

Kirynn nodded. “I’ve found the path to it.”

“I knew it would reveal itself.” Dahliynn glanced back at the cooks. “The evening meal will be ready shortly. Your sister will be here soon to join us.”

“How does she know I’m here?”

Dahliynn waved a hand toward the younger cook. “I sent Tolynn to notify her while you were thinking things over.” Her mother led the way back to the front sitting room. “Your sister will be pleased to see you. Things have changed since you’ve been gone. Aislynn is a young woman who has married and has a child.”

Kirynn tried to imagine the quiet girl she’d only seen on celebration days as a woman with a husband and child. Aislynn had never been interested in earning the braid. She’d spent only the one requisite month at training and then refused to go back. And even though Aislynn had always wanted a home life, the image wouldn’t come.

Soon, she didn’t need to imagine it. Aislynn, with her shoulder-length red-blonde hair, came through the door with a child that was likely past his first year propped on her hip. A broad smile that reminded Kirynn of their father spread across her sister’s face. “Kirynn, it’s so wonderful to see you again.”

Kirynn awkwardly returned her sister’s hug. Though she loved her sister, she’d never been comfortable with the other woman’s warm, expressive emotions. Kirynn was always closer to her mother, probably because they were more alike.

Aislynn pulled away and presented the boy. “Meet your nephew, Brohnus.”

Kirynn smiled at the child who squirmed to get down. Aislynn set him on the floor, and he took off on his chubby little legs. “He looks like Father.”

Her sister nodded with a fond look on her face. “That he does.”

Dahliynn motioned toward the dining room then bent to catch Brohnus before he ran down the hall. “The meal will be ready soon.”

Kirynn followed them into the room. A large oval table stood surrounded by simple carved chairs. She sat down and watched as the others took their seats. This was her blood family, and she would visit and share meals with them more. Even though this would always be home, it wasn’t the same. Not anymore. Galdrilene was home and the other riders her family.