Sun eyed his hand a moment before taking it and letting him pull her up, handing him back his coat. Once he had it, he was gone. He sped off so fast she couldn't even see him anymore. She took off as well; he clearly expected her to follow. He was probably heading back to the estate. There was no way she could keep up with him, so when she did get back, he was already waiting at the front door for her, not a hair out of place, not even slightly winded. He took her inside, but instead of going back to their rooms, he led her somewhere else, through the huge building. They passed staff and a few relatives on the way who cast curious looks in their direction.
"Lord Illusen, you weren't at breakfast this morning," one young man said, obviously a relative of theirs. Sun didn't know who he was.
"I wasn't," Kalys confirmed, not even sparing a glance his way as he moved past him.
The man looked a bit miffed but backed off, watching them pass. He'd clearly had more to say. She couldn't help but envy the way he could absolutely disregard what feelings or opinions his borderline rudeness might instill in others.
She followed Kalys silently, her own curiosity helping with the festering rage she thought she'd let go of years ago. Back then she'd wanted to kill the doctor who'd refused Kawana treatment. Had had fantasies of tracking down Ami's murderers and torturing them to death. Not having been there for Ren and Ezra's deaths, she had no idea how to get justice for them, but that hadn't stopped her from imagining all the ways she would make their faceless attackers suffer. Directing all that hatred and anger outwards had at least stopped her from wanting to claw at her own skin, rip out her hair, smash her head against the rocks...
Coming back to Solaryse was a mistake. It must have been the distance from this place that had helped her.
They stepped into the back gardens where he stalked through them, seemingly oblivious to the beauty around them. Through the trees, she was able to make out a large building hidden between the trunks and leaves. It was different from the estate, clearly not built for beauty but utility. They went inside, and she realised it was a training hall. She paused in the doorway, taking in the room. She had been mistaken about the lack of beauty part. It wasn't like the ones they used at the Academy; this one was circular, light, and airy with massive windows. The floor was some kind of polished stone, all white and greys. And there were water features, little waterfalls that ran down recesses in the walls and around the perimeter of the room beneath metal grates. If this were to train in combat, it made sense water would be readily available considering their family's abilities.
The exterior of this building had been so deceptive.
She looked to her brother, wondering why he had brought her here. He'd been adamant she was to refrain from training until her arm had healed.
He beckoned for her to follow him, where he led her to storage closets. He opened the doors to reveal a variety of weapons, some she'd never seen before and couldn't even guess at how they were to be used. When she came close, he handed her a wooden training sword, hilt first.
"I thought I wasn't allowed to train," she pointed out.
"Perhaps I have been...slightly overprotective," he conceded.
He felt the scoff she let out was unnecessary.
"We will spar," he said, casting her a pointed look. "I will limit myself to one hand as well."
He took one of the swords for himself, the same as hers, and set his real sword down.
"I've found sparring to help towards alleviating the rage. Don't hold back, but mind your arm," he warned.
He trusted himself to be able to spar safely with her without hurting her. He could not say the same for the other students she attended the Academy with. He would rather wait until she was healed, but that fury in her needed to be tempered, needed to be drained. In his experience, sparring was an excellent way of getting it out. And he was strong enough to take anything she could dish out and protect himself should she lose control of her power, either one of them, since she needed water for both, and he had perfect mastery over the element.
They stepped out into the centre of the room and took up their stances. Suns nerves were getting to her; she was about to spar with one of the strongest Commanders in Perdition.
He was waiting for her to make the first move, so she did, shooting forward, swinging the practice sword. She wasn't much for one-handed sword fighting, but this was more about the energy expended than the skill.
She moved with calculated steps and a firm grip on her practice blade. Kalys matched her every move with effortless grace and precision.
Their swords shattered the silence of the room, the clack of wood against wood echoing off the stone walls. She delivered a series of swift attacks, aiming to break through Kalys's defence or find a way around it, but each blow was expertly parried or dodged with little more than a flick of his wrist.
Sweat beaded on her brow, her breathing a little ragged, while he looked as if he'd been on a pleasant morning stroll.
"Watch your footwork," he said.
She nodded, lunging forward again and delivering another flurry of blows. If she imagined the piece-of-shit doctor that let Kawana die, or the men who raped and murdered Ami in Kalys's place, well, no one needed to know.
A couple of times she even almost got him; she'd managed to surprise him. It wasn't much, but there had been a sense of triumph in that.
She didn't know how long they had been at it before he called for a stop. She was sweating and her breathing was harsh, while he looked maybe a little ruffled, a hair or two out of place. Now that she was just standing there, her muscles aching, her heart beating in her ears, the fight had drained out of her. Her broken arm ached a little too; a few times she'd gone to use it before realising it would be useless. Kalys had flashed a warning look every time she'd gone to do it too, like he'd realised what she was about to do before she had.
"How do you feel now?" He asked.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to get everything back to normal. The murderous rage hadn't quite burnt out, but embers compared to the rising inferno it had felt like before. She didn't have the energy to maintain it now.
"It's not gone," she said quietly. "But I'm not about to go on a roaring rampage either. It's just... I know life isn't fair, but it's just... so cruel. I wish I could go back in time and change it with every fibre of my being, and I can't."
Her voice cracked on the words. Powerlessness was something she had grown up knowing all too well. She loathed the feeling. And she hated how being back brought it all up again. She truly hadn't thought it would. She thought she'd grieved and accepted and moved on for the most part. It would never stop hurting entirely, but she never thought it would feel so raw again.
"No, you can't."
The words were harsh, but there was the barest hint of sympathy. He probably knew the feeling; it must have been how he felt about his father. Or maybe his mother. Both.
"If you would prefer to stay home rather than attend the festival with Grandfather, I can pass on your apologies."
She shook her head. "I said I would go."
Besides, she liked him and didn't want to disappoint him or give him reason to think she didn't keep to her word. She could swallow down what was left of that bitter anguish and make nice for an afternoon.
"Then bathe and dress; I will have breakfast sent to your room."
She nodded, turning to head back to the main building.
"And Sun," she looked back at him. "Do not sneak out alone again. If you must go back, come to me."
Another nod from her, and she scurried off. That could have been worse; it wasn't even a scolding. He was far more accommodating than she would have pegged him for when they'd first met. It was a shame they couldn't have gotten off to a better start. Maybe it would have helped her feel more like his sister.
Or maybe it would have made her infatuation worse if he'd been so nice to her from the start...
-
The art festival hadn't been to Sun's taste, but she had enjoyed spending time with her grandfather. It turned out he was an avid art collector and had even played patron to several artists in his lifetime. He called them weavers of human expression, and he found their ability to transform these raw materials into such beautiful creations a magic all its own.
She could admit when she saw something pretty, but she didn't think she had the depth to appreciate it the way he did.
Still, it had been a pleasant afternoon, and he had taught her a bit about the various art forms. He painted now and again, a hobby he'd taken up in his later years. She told him she would love to see what he'd done, but he had nothing stored here.
As they wandered, he'd purchased a couple of paintings and a sculpture and offered to buy anything that struck her fancy. She apologetically told him art was wasted on her. When he had asked about her interests, she'd frozen, realising she didn't really have any. Nick liked to read, Zen liked to fight and train, and Jinn had art. What did Kalys have? The ravens? His reading?
Of all the things she'd been made to try as part of her gentle arts lessons, she'd enjoyed none of it. Some things had been a little more tolerable than others, but none of it was fun or appealing.
She worked to do well at the Academy because she didn't want to be left behind by the boys. Other than that, the only thing that she looked forward to was spending time with them. And Kalys when they read the journal together.
Gardening might have come close, but was that a hobby?
When Jinn had seen the lost look on her face at his question, he'd invited her to spend an afternoon painting with him next time he visited. She hadn't tried painting before; maybe she would like it. She didn't have to be good at something to enjoy doing it.
They had returned to the estate in the late afternoon hours, where she'd been sent straight to the chair for Mika to do her up for this girl's birthday party. It was to be a large formal event, and many members from the four great houses and the royal family would be there. Not the king himself, but some cousins, nieces, and nephews.
Apparently they would be seeing the King tomorrow night as the young ladies of the realm were introduced to court, something that had many a family all atwitter as the Prince was looking for a wife, so Mika had informed her. Sun hadn't been aware there was a prince. Apparently the palace held a large gathering this time of year every year to open the social season, it was when most betrothals were made, deals struck, and more was accomplished in the political arena. Sun had never known, but then, what went on at the palace was hardly something they would keep track of. She couldn't think of a single thing the palace had done or law made that had affected them as children. The palace had certainly done nothing to help the situation in the slums.
As Mika made her up, she went over all the rules and customs just to remind her since she'd been out of her etiquette lessons for a while now. Sun had forgotten a fair bit of it but at least remembered how to curtsey. She intended to be as unobtrusive and as invisible as possible.
Though she had doubts, her dress seemed far too opulent and beautiful to go unnoticed.
"Are you sure I'm not overdressed?" She asked Mika, hesitant to step outside in it.
"Not at all; if anything, this is probably a bit understated."
Sun narrowed her eyes on the woman, looking for deceit or sarcasm. How could anyone describe this as understated? Her makeup seemed equally over the top, her hair intricately done, and her makeup heavier and darker. The effect was a little thrown by the sling and cast she still wore.
When she was ready, her brother and grandfather came to collect her, both looking very handsome in their tuxedos. As per the norm, they kept to their house colours, but mostly black. Both had their long hair out, draped over their shoulders and looking like pure silk. How did they manage it? Kalys didn't even have a maid or anything that helped him with these things. She'd thought it unfair at first, but he clearly did a good job on his own. Though, he didn't have to worry about makeup.
That was another style of art all its own.
They headed out to the carriage, Sun mentally steeling herself for the night to come.
She hated being so out of her element.