Burning
Adira's P.O.V.
The heat of the water against my skin made me let out a sigh. The tension I had been carrying, paired with the frigid cold air on this mountainside, had left my body aching for release.
I’d been here for about two months now and had settled into something of a routine with Brone, Romal, and Sila. In the mornings, I donned layers of clothes I’d altered to fit me and covered that with a heavy fur coat.
I’d take Sila and her pups— there were four of them— outside to do their business. While outside, I’d scoop up a few buckets of snow to put over the fire to meet our water needs for the day.
By the time I came back inside, Brone was usually awake and dressed, working on something in the storage room or scribbling notes in a book he kept with him. A ‘journal,’ he’d called it.
Next, we would prepare breakfast, which mostly consisted of meat due to the little surviving greenery in this cold. Today was a bird that Romal had hunted, paired with grain and dried herbs.
While we ate, Brone would teach me his language. It started simple enough with pointing to an object and announcing its name, then having me repeat it. Things got a little more confusing from there, as Brone would gesture wildly to convey meaning to certain words and phrases- trying to indicate a place or question.
On one hand, I was desperate to better communicate with him, and I sometimes enjoyed the challenge. On the other hand… from what I’d gathered, Brone had never taught anyone before. His methods were a bit erratic, and he often jumped wildly from one thing to the next, leaving me a bit confused at times.
Still, we’d made it to the point where we could hold conversations.
“You’re a fast learner,” He’d said to me as we cleaned our dishes and prepared for the next phase of our day.
“You’re a fast teacher,” I’d replied seriously.
He seemed to find it funny and let out a chuckle, surprising me. Brone rarely laughed or cracked a smile in the time we’d spent together. His eyes always held some steely focus as he calculated and planned everything he needed to do.
Which was a lot. Or he made it seem that way.
From the time he woke up to the time he rested his body in bed, he was working on something, writing something, measuring something. Initially, I’d felt bad to add to his burden, so I tried to make myself useful and help where I could.
I’d begun helping make our meals and clean up after, thaw and purify snow into usable water, care for the dogs, tend to any wounds. I’d even started to help chop firewood, or I’d tried. Apparently, that was where Brone drew the line.
He’d shaken his head at me and removed the axe from my grip, refusing to return it to me despite my protests and broken justifications that slipped between our two languages.
“You’ll leave me with nothing to do,” he’d told me in a tone that left no room for argument.
“I do not like…!” I said, feeling exasperated, searching for the word and struggling to remember. When I couldn’t find it, I settled instead for something else to convey my meaning.
“I do not like being stone!”
“Being… stone?” His face was puzzled, bewildered at my choice of words.
“Doesn’t move. Just sits.”
His eyes flashed with understanding, “You don’t like to be still… You want to feel useful?”
I nodded, feeling both proud that I’d gotten my point across and frustrated with myself for not being better able to convey my meaning.
This was how we’d come to an understanding with one another, structuring our days so that we could both keep busy. From that point on, after breakfast, I would join Brone outside where he was teaching me to use a bow and arrow. He’d said that it would be good for me to learn so that I could defend myself if I needed to and help hunt our food.
I didn’t much care for the idea of hunting, as killing an innocent creature felt wrong. But I had no problems learning to defend myself in case I ever came face to face with one of the things that had attacked Brone and Romal two months ago.
The memory of that night still gave me chills and left me feeling hollow for answers. I still didn’t remember anything before the vessel on the ocean and had no idea how I managed to heal Romal. The only memory I’d recovered was pulling myself, coughing and heaving from the saltwater before blindly climbing up the mountain, as if in a trance.
After Brone had woken up the following day to find Romal alive and well, he’d been in a state of shock. He’d tried to ask me questions that I didn’t understand at the time, leaving him frustrated but grateful. However, it wasn’t long before he’d left the cabin- against my very obvious protests as I’d tried to block the door- to finish off the monster that had nearly sent his companion to an early grave.
When I wouldn’t move out of his way, the behemoth of a man had the nerve to lift me and set me aside before proceeding anyway. An hour or so later, he returned with a mutilated carcass that he threw to the ground about 15 feet out the front door. He’d beckoned me outside, pointed to the wretched-looking thing, and declared, “Blighted. Blighted Nightseeker,” as if a warning.
I’d stepped closer to get a better look. Although the sight was so horrible, I still couldn’t understand why I wanted to see it. Something about the thing made my body tremble, and my soul scream in revulsion, yet I couldn’t tear my eyes away. Before I could get too close, the vigilant man yanked me back against his chest and pointed at the fiend, drawing my attention to its disfigured head.
The sight was enough to make me feel sick as I noticed the gaping hole, revealing fleshy pink brain matter. I tried to look away, but Brone urged me again, taking my chin in one hand to hold my face in the desired direction while he pointed.
And I saw it.
The thing wasn’t a carcass as I thought, it was still alive. Under the blood and gore was a pair of vacant, unfeeling black eyes that blinked. Its teeth were barred in a snarl, but it didn’t move.
The shock made my blood run cold, and before I could stop myself, I lurched to the side and vomited, narrowly missing the man who had held me back moments ago.
After helping me back inside, Brone built a pyre over the unmoving feral nightmare and ignited it, letting it devour the thing until nothing was left but bone and ash.
‘I still remember the smell.’
I shuddered against the memory, feeling my stomach turn.
Noticing the water had begun to go cold, I pulled myself from the wooden tub, shivering against the cool night air that seeped in. I dried myself and dressed in a hurry, now conscious of how long I must have been occupying the bathroom.
By the time I emerged, I had already mentally strung together an apology for taking so long, figuring it was the right thing to do. Only- I wasn’t prepared for the sight in front of me when I stepped out.
In the main room stood Brone, wearing nothing but a loose pair of undergarments that clung to the V-curve of his hips. He was facing a pot of steaming water with a cloth in his hand, giving me a good view of his side profile against the warm light of the fire.
I froze, eyes glued to his form as he lifted the wet cloth to his chest and collarbone, cleaning himself. He turned his face upward as he did so, flexing his muscles and making the veins of his neck protrude against his damp skin. Drops of water traveled from his neck down his body, lingering in the valleys between his defined muscles and seeming to kiss the raised skin of his scars deliberately.
My mouth went dry, and suddenly I felt warm, despite shivering from the cold bathroom only seconds ago. The feeling of fire burning beneath my skin made my body abruptly aware of every sensation. I could feel the way the fabric of one of Brone’s oversized shirts clung to my still-damp body in some places and gently grazed the flesh of other places.
I wondered for a moment what it would feel like to have his body pressed against me in place of the material. To have his chest glued to mine in place of the cotton or his hands tracing patterns against my thighs as opposed to the feel of the fabric.
‘Or to be the one feeling my way down his body…’
The thought hit me hard, causing me to sharply inhale and promptly choke, coughing loudly.
‘Of all things, why think of that? What is wrong with you? You don’t even speak the same language well!’
“Adira?” I heard his voice ask, low and smooth as always.
I couldn’t respond, too busy trying to stop myself from coughing after apparently choking on my own drool. I was doubled over both because of the unexpected choking, and because I couldn’t fathom looking Brone in the eye after the turn my thoughts had just taken.
I heard a movement and suddenly felt a large hand against my back, patting me slightly before rubbing up and down slowly. The sensation made me stiffen and stand upright, finally gaining some control over my breathing.
“Sorry, I was in the water room too long-” I said hastily, stumbling over my words, “You were waiting…”
“You mean the bathroom?” He answered, still not removing his hand from my back, “It’s fine, I was able to improvise.”
‘I can see that.’
I tried to calm myself, biting down hard on my lower lip to focus on anything other than the embarrassment I felt at my wandering thoughts.
Finally calming myself enough to meet his gaze, I looked up, feeling painfully aware of how close we stood and his touch.
“Ah, bathroom. Yes. I won’t take long again.”
His eyes narrowed down at me, the intensity of his gaze reigniting the fire under my skin.
“I just said that it was fine. You worked hard today, you earned the long bath,” He replied, referencing the lengthy day of chores.
After spending a few hours with Brone working on my bow skills, I had helped haul wood back to the cabin, mended some of his old clothing, and joined him on an expedition to search for winter forageable plants and mushrooms.
I averted my eyes; his intense expression was too much for me to handle in my current state.
‘Why am I acting like this? I’ve seen him without a shirt before, and this didn’t happen!’
I scolded myself, blatantly choosing to ignore that the situations were entirely different.
Feeling him remove his hand from my back, I almost let out a sigh of relief. That was, until he took my chin in his hand instead, guiding my gaze back to him and not allowing me to look away.
“Are you feeling well? You might have overdone it today.”
“I f-feel fine. Only tired,” I answered, pulling away slightly and trying not to gulp audibly.
He nodded, turning back to the pot of warm water he’d abandoned in the middle of the room.
“Get some sleep,” he said over his shoulder, “Akhael willing, tomorrow we might be able to take things easy.”
“Akhael willing,” I muttered in response, walking around him to the newly attached room he had built for me.
Brone's P.O.V.
“Damn the old gods!” I hissed as I threw myself down on my bed and let out a long exhale.
Living with her was challenging in ways I should have anticipated.
‘Not that it can be helped. It isn’t like I could have left her in the snow or sent her on her way.’
I ran my hands over my face, trying to push the unwanted thoughts and images aside. But damn if she didn’t look tempting when she’d stepped out of the bath.
Visions of her wet hair clinging to her skin like stardust hugging the heavens and the way my shirt cradled her every curve branded themselves in my mind, unwilling to release me. She looked like a testament to Akhael himself.
Her eyes were greener and more vibrant than any of the king’s emeralds, with a fire behind them that made my body ache as though it were begging to be consumed by their flames. For a selfish moment, I’d thought it was possible when I held her gaze.
It was only when she’d stepped back that I remembered myself.
‘A body and mind as damaged as this doesn’t get to hold celestial fire. I’m lucky to have even felt its presence.’
So I spent my last waking hours trying to convince myself that the burning I felt for her was the product of finally having a companion in my exile. I reminded myself that she was here until the thaw, when I’d go down to the nearest settlement for supplies and set her free.
By this time next year, I’d be back on the mountain again. Alone, and twice as cold.