Air Awakens: Water's Wrath - Air Awakens: Water's Wrath Part 11
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Air Awakens: Water's Wrath Part 11

"Is it urgent?" Grahm asked, as if reading her mind. "I needed to speak to you about vessels."

"Oh, well, if it's that, could we do it another time?"

"I suppose." Grahm rubbed the back of his neck. "It was something Larel asked."

"Something Larel asked?" Vhalla repeated. That was the last thing she'd been expecting.

"What does this have to do with Larel?" Fritz joined them in the hall.

"This was something she asked me to do if . . ." The Easterner looked between them, a sorrowful expression overcame him. "If she didn't make it back."

"What is it?" One hand sought out the comfort of the watch under her tunic, the other gripped Fritz's tightly.

"She came to me with a bracelet she had made for you. Do you still have it?" Vhalla nodded at Grahm. "She wanted to make a vessel of it, a vessel of words. She said she knew Fritz and I were close and she could trust me with this, as a friend of a friend."

"Larel did?" Fritz jumped in.

Larel had seen it, Vhalla realized. She had seen Fritz's affection for the other man. She had known Fritz would go back to this person and trusted him with her message. Because those were the kinds of things Larel had been able to see-the inner mechanics of other people's hearts.

"Do you have the bracelet?" Grahm asked.

"I do," Vhalla answered eagerly, thinking of the beautiful metal cuff Larel had given Vhalla for her birthday.

Her heart raced as they started for her room. Vhalla wanted to break out into an all-out run. The world was moving far too slowly for her liking. Larel, her mentor, her guiding hand, her sister and confidant-she had something more to give. Vhalla's feet picked up speed, and the men silently followed.

The bracelet was exactly where Vhalla had left it when she had marched to war. Vhalla wondered when Larel had taken the time to spirit it away to Grahm, but Vhalla hadn't been paying attention to much of anything in the days leading up to the march.

Retrieving it, Grahm led them down into a center workroom. Along the perimeter were a handful of small doors. A couple of men and women worked at stations littered with books, focused on the magic that sparkled around the tokens they were focused intently on.

"This is where Waterrunners learn about vessels," Fritz explained upon seeing Vhalla's confused expression, keeping close to Grahm as he led them to one of the doors along the outside.

Grahm flipped a disk hanging by the door, from black to silver. "You know what to do, Fritz."

"You won't come in?" Fritz blinked.

"No," Grahm shook his head. "I think it's better if it's just the both of you."

Vhalla's curiosity silenced her confused questions.

"But, I always-" Fritz began uncertainly.

"You will be fine." Grahm rested a palm on Fritz's shoulder. "You have a problem recording to the vessel still, yes, but you should have no problem drawing out the words that are recorded within the magic."

"I'd feel better if you were there," Fritz insisted.

"Larel would have wanted you to do it on your own," Grahm countered. There were no more arguments that could be put forward. "I'll be out here when you're finished."

Grahm opened the door, and Vhalla followed Fritz into a small chamber.

There was a single flame bulb overhead, casting the room in light shadow. It was little more than a closet, barely large enough for two people to stand around a center pedestal. Fritz squeezed around to the far side, and Vhalla stood opposite with the door to her back. Square in shape, the pedestal had a shallow indent in the center that was filled with water. It looked almost like a birdbath.

"Place it in the center of the water," Fritz instructed.

Vhalla did as she was told, gingerly putting down her precious possession with two hands.

"Fritz," she whispered.

"Yeah?" His eyes were glued onto the bracelet.

"What's going to happen?"

"Oh, right." Fritz shook his head. "I forget you're still technically new to the Tower. Vessels can store magic. But with a skilled Waterrunner-like Grahm-they can also hold words."

"Words?" Vhalla stared at the unassuming piece of jewelry.

Fritz nodded and lifted his hands, placing his fingertips into the edge of the water. Her friend took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Vhalla watched as his magic pulsed outward, generating shimmering ripples in the water. At first, the ripples bounced away from the bracelet in small waves, as they would any normal object. But the pulsing changed, and eventually the ripples hit the bracelet, stopping as though they were absorbed.

Vhalla waited expectantly, clutching the watch around her neck tightly. Larel had been Aldrik's friend, too . . . Should he hear what was about to be said as well?

The water hummed from the speech of a speaker who wasn't there, silencing all Vhalla's thoughts.

"Vhalla, Fritz." It was Larel's voice. Vhalla's hand flew up to her mouth. She took an unsteady breath at the sound of her dead friend's voice once more filling her ears, as though Larel stood with them once more. "I know what it means if you are listening to this. It means I walk the Father's halls."

Vhalla looked at her friend. Fritz's expression was equal parts pain and joy. She was certain hers matched.

"It's all right. I want you to know it's all right."

Vhalla wanted to scream at Larel that it wasn't. That it was Vhalla's fault Larel had been on the march in the first place. Vhalla had been given a gift in Larel, and she had never fully appreciated it before it was lost.

"I knew before I left what it may mean for me. And, if you are listening now, then it means one or both of you, and I so pray for the latter, survived me. That alone brings me joy.

"I hope no one is doing anything silly like blaming themselves for my death. It doesn't matter how it came to pass. Please don't waste your thoughts on such nonsense." Larel's voice was as gentle and kind as it always had been. "My life was borrowed from the moment Prince Aldrik found me. My existence was given an extension, a chance to really live. And live I did. It was simply my time to return what the Mother gave me."

Vhalla closed her eyes and breathed, absorbing every word.

"I wanted to tell you both not to worry. I wanted to make sure you both knew." There was a wavering pause that nearly stopped Vhalla's heart altogether. "Fritz, it was always us, wasn't it? When the prince disappeared from my life for a time, you were the first one to be there for me.

"All the rest of them told me it was about time I was no longer the prince's favorite. You never seemed to care. You were there when I needed you most, and I never forgot. I love you, my friend. I would gladly die for you-and if I did, I know I am content that I could give my life for my brother."

Fritz hung his head, and Vhalla bit her lip. It was not this well-loved friend who had taken their dear Larel from them. It was Vhalla who bore that curse.

"Vhalla." She looked at the bracelet at the mention of her name. "I have only known you for a few months, and then not entirely intimately. I don't know what will happen on this long march-what has happened-where we will be. But if I want to leave you with one thing . . . It is that I am, and have always been, honored to be your mentor.

"You are strong. You are a chick that has burst from its shell, and you are already struggling to fly long before you should ever be pushed from the nest." Vhalla heard the touch of sorrow in Larel's voice. "I want you to know that I have always helped and protected you because I wanted to. Not because Prince Aldrik asked me to."

Vhalla laughed softly, shaking her head at all that had transpired. There was no question in her mind.

"You will do great things. Call it my Firebearer's intuition. But never lose faith, never lose your beautiful heart. Don't let them win, those wicked men and women who would do anything to cage you or kill you." Larel's voice was strong and Vhalla let out a small hiccup, struggling to keep the tears under control. The day had already been emotionally taxing.

"Both of you, live long and wonderful lives. I know I will be looking at you from the far realms of the dead. My life was better because you were in it. I know, no matter how horrible the act could be that brought my death, I will die happy, for I lived with my friends." Larel's final goodbye echoed through the room.

Fritz grabbed the sides of the pedestal for support. Vhalla swayed slightly, trying to stop her head from reeling. Neither said anything.

"Damn it, Larel." Fritz's voice was at the verge of tears. "Why, why didn't-why couldn't you . . . I don't want a goodbye."

"Fritz," Vhalla said softly, seeing through the words that the pain put in his mouth.

"I miss her," he whispered.

"I do, too." Vhalla stared at the bracelet. "But she's still here, right?"

"Yeah," Fritz pulled himself together. "She'd be the type to haunt us 'til the end of our days if we didn't keep her in our hearts."

Vhalla smiled hopelessly at her friend and wiggled around the pedestal to the back of the room. She pulled her friend to her, taking a deep breath. "Fritz, thank you for being such a good friend to me." Vhalla hid her face where his neck met his shoulder.

Fritz mimicked the gesture. "You don't have to thank me for that."

"I do." Vhalla pressed her eyes closed and held him tighter. "The next time I wander away from the world, I want my friend with me. If you'll come."

He laughed weakly. "You know I will."

They stood together in a few long moments of silence. Eventually, Fritz pulled away and turned to the bracelet. Vhalla nodded in unspoken agreement, and they listened to their friend's last words again, and then for a third time, arms wrapped around each other to remind themselves of what they still had before them in spite of all their loss.

Fritz's eyes were red when they finally emerged. Vhalla rubbed hers but had managed to keep things together. They had both been to war, but Fritz had somehow emerged with his heart intact. Vhalla was almost jealous that he could still cry as easily as he did.

Grahm warmed her heart and brought a tired smile to her lips as he hugged Fritz tightly without word. Vhalla watched the two men holding each other and wondered if they had any idea how they looked locked in an embrace.

"I think I'm going to go to my room for a little," Fritz announced finally. Watching him pry himself away from Grahm's embrace was almost painful for Vhalla. She wanted to scream at them to hold each other for a little longer, until it finally clicked for them. "Just sit for a bit."

"Do you want me to come?" Vhalla asked.

Fritz shook his head. "No, I think I'll be alone for a bit."

"All right." Vhalla gave him a friendly squeeze, and the once-again mourning man departed down the hall.

Grahm followed Vhalla up to her room. Vhalla shot him a curious glance, and he motioned for her to proceed. Clearly the man had something on his mind, and Vhalla didn't feel like filling the silence for small-talk's sake.

The man followed her into the room without a word, softly clicking shut the door.

"Grahm?" Vhalla inquired as to his uncharacteristic melancholy.

The man took a deep breath, his eyes searching. "I want to help him. How can I help him?"

Vhalla shook her head. These two were hopeless. It wasn't her place, but it didn't seem like they'd get anywhere without a little nudge.

"You should go to him, be with him, hold him."

"But he said he wanted to be alone . . ." Grahm floundered.

"And you think he really meant that?" Vhalla crossed her arms over her chest with a tired grin.

"So, why didn't you go with him?"

"Because maybe he was sincere." She shook her head with a small laugh. "Or maybe I can see that I'm not the one he wants right now." The man actually blushed, and Vhalla wasted no time driving the point home. "He cares for you. You make him happy. You must see that."

"I . . . have."

"So what are you afraid of?" Vhalla touched her watch thoughtfully. "It's worth it, the chance is worth it. Love is always worth taking the challenge."

The words were real before Vhalla even realized it. She didn't regret her time with Aldrik. Her heart began to race, and she struggled to stay in the moment with Grahm. Vhalla's own affections were a known mess that continued to fall into hopelessness; she'd have ample time later to confront it. For now, she'd focus on her friends.

"Love is far better to know, even if it slips from your grasp or doesn't bear fruit like you'd hoped. People who say they regret love, true love, are just bitter liars."

Grahm looked at her for a long moment. Vhalla gave him an encouraging nod.

In that moment, she felt like she had lived a thousand lifetimes and loved a hundred times. She realized her own advice was true, and something about it made her yearn with sweet longing. In that moment, she wanted to see her prince more than anyone else in the world.

Grahm excused himself, and Vhalla watched him walk down the Tower. She wondered if he would head to Fritz's room. Vhalla walked on air, following Grahm down the slope of the Tower, a couple paces behind. The second she saw the man pause at Fritz's door, she turned and started back upward before her friend answered and she could be spotted.

Knowing Fritz was cared for, Vhalla walked past her room, continuing on. Silence settled into the Tower, and the doors became sparse. Vhalla caressed Larel's bracelet, thinking of her friend's words, of how Larel would advise Vhalla's tumultuous soul.

Vhalla bypassed the minister's office, going to an unadorned door that bore a black lock when others in the Tower were silver. She pressed both her palms to the door, leaning forward and pressing her ear against the wood. Vhalla stretched her hearing, listening for any signs of life in the room.

Silence.

Vhalla pushed away with a small sigh. It was better if she didn't meet the prince again, privately. It was better if she stopped thinking about the man with whom she had been briefly-secretly-engaged to. It would all be better if the watch at her neck would stop giving off phantom heat at the mere thought of the man she loved.

Vhalla knocked on the minister's door. Fritz may need time, but there was work to be done, and she couldn't waste hours mourning a woman who had long been lost. Vhalla had done her mourning and made it a part of her. She'd carry it with her forever.

"Ah, Vhalla." Victor smiled at the sight of her, holding open the door.

"Is now all right?"

"Certainly, come in." He clicked the door closed behind her, heading back to his low table before a window. "Tea?"

"Why not?" She assumed the previous day's chair, already settling into what felt like a routine.

"It's a little different," Victor proceeded with small talk. "I bought some lemongrass today in the market."

"I like lemons."

"Do you?" Victor passed her a steaming mug. "That's good to know."

Vhalla indulged in the steaming cup for a moment, deciding it was time to get to business. "Where do you hide the axe?"

She watched as Victor opened a secret panel in one of his cabinets, pulling out a locked box that the axe was hidden within. "No one else knows of that hiding spot."

"Well, now someone else knows," Vhalla remarked smartly, earning herself a chuckle. "Victor, the crystal weapons, each nation had one, didn't they?"