"When it comes to magic, there are some things the user must explore on their own. A teacher is vital, but just as vital is a measure of independence - because magic, by its very nature, cannot be fully understood by human science. It manifests differently for each individual, so each individual must explore it on their own. In the case of the magic studied by Mirshal Reapers, each Reaper must explore on their own the measure of their prenatural instinct&"

　　-From Antonin Voloshko`s guidebook on the theory of magic, published in 236 YT

　　244 YT, Spring: Kivv.

　　 The budding leaves on trees, the beginnings of greenery and of flowers, blanketed Kivv in the promise of future beauty. The evenings were still long and shaded, with the sun beginning to set in the west long before a reasonable person would say "night is here, it`s time to rest." Outside the walls, there was far less light than within - no streetlamps to guide their way, no glow from the windows to give the whole place its diffuse warmth. But beside Hilda, Lucian walked with a flashlight at the ready, his hand on its switch in case they needed it. Thus far, there was no need.

　　 East of the city walls there was a stand of trees, what had once been a verdant fruit orchard before the Invictans came to the Vale. Now there was little enough food to go around, and the orchard was bare. This winter, no warm cloths had been laid over the trees to protect their remaining fruit from frost. There was no need, for the fruit was all gone, used to feed those who had come to the city. But through the center of that orchard there ran a rusty old train track.

　　 Hilda and Lucian walked along the abandoned rails, one foot in front of the other. The fingers of Hilda`s right hand brushed against the fingers of Lucian`s left across the distance from rail to rail. The touch was electric, invigorating. It kept her balanced as she moved along the rail.

　　 "I really feel like I`ve been making progress these past few weeks," Hilda said. She smiled freely, though her eyes remained fixed on the rail. Something in Lucian`s tone told her he was not looking at the rail, but at her.

　　 "I`ve noticed something changed in the way you hold yourself," Lucian said. "It`s impressive - how quickly this change has happened. You`re getting very strong, you know." Hilda swayed on the track with her next step, and glanced over at Lucian.

　　 "You`re just saying that to embarrass me," Hilda said, feeling the warmth rise in her cheeks.

　　 "No, it`s true, I wouldn`t exaggerate something like that." Then Lucian laughed. "You`re just saying that to make me flustered."

　　 Hilda laughed with him, and pausing a moment, turned her gaze to the distant trees. The spring could not come quickly enough, but the leaves were taking their sweet time to emerge. "Well," she said. "It is working, isn`t it?"

　　 Lucian chuckled, following Hilda`s eyes into the distance. "Yeah," he said, his voice suddenly distant again. That distance was less and less frequent in Lucian with each passing week, but it was not entirely gone. Sometimes, Hilda still thought, he spoke as though his mind were a thousand years away.

　　 "You know," Lucian said suddenly, "in all this time no one has ever bothered to try rebuilding this old train system. No real effort has been put into it, that is. It would be useful, wouldn`t it?"

　　 "Yeah," Hilda said. "I`m sure it would." She glanced to the south - to the distant mountains of Gaurlante, so far away that the horizon covered them up. "It`s so slow to get supplies from one part of the Vale to another, and we have all these old railways just lying around?"

　　 "Well, it would take a massive effort to repair them, I`m sure," Lucian said, picking up the pace of his walk. "All this rust, it would have to be cleaned. Some of the rails would have to be replaced. And then there`s rebuilding the cars - you know, this is all old-world technology. Not all of it is as easily salvaged as we`d like.

　　 "Besides," Lucian said, in that distant voice of his, a voice too old for the young world. "There are so many bad memories on this track. Some of the places it has gone, some of the places it remembers& they don`t bear repeating. It may be that any train which would take this path may lead only to bad luck."

　　 "You should have been a Sower, I keep saying," Hilda teased as she matched Lucian`s pace. She leaned a little on her Reaper battle-magic, just enough to enhance her balance so that she felt she was floating.

　　 "Well." Lucian jumped forward, and there was a heat in the air. Hilda was sure she could feel a little battle-magic in his step, though only a little. "I do have a little of that latent magic in me. But Zil-Antonin says I am meant for other purposes, that the way of the Reapers is not my way, and I believe him."

　　 "You trust Zil-Antonin implicitly, don`t you?" Hilda smiled softly, stepped off the edge of the rail and into the center of the track, moving along the wooden planks. Her hand wrapped around Lucian`s. "You trust him even when he doesn`t trust you&"

　　 "That`s right," Lucian said. "I know he keeps things from me, but I trust his reasons. Zil-Antonin is a good leader, and wise, and most importantly he has the best interests of Kivv`s people at heart. He`s always proven that to me when I doubted him." Something in Lucian`s words made Hilda`s heart dance a little. She pulled, lightly, on his arm, and he stepped off the metal rail, into the center of the track.

　　 Down the middle they walked together, for a while. After many minutes, Lucian broke the silence. "Now," he said, "I know you may not wish to talk about this. and if you keep it from me, I trust your reasons. But I can`t help but ask." Hilda glanced toward him in concern. "Your& your sister&"

　　 Hilda`s heart sank.

　　 "You two fought, didn`t you? You said, back then&"

　　 She narrowed her eyes, scowled. "I said she tried to kill me," Hilda said. "Not that we fought. There was no fight, there was only her trying to save her own skin."

　　 "Shouldn`t the two of you& talk about it?"

　　 Hilda pulled her hand away from Lucian`s with a grimace on her face. "What`s to talk about? I know why she did what she did. There`s no changing the past. I don`t need to hear her justify herself to me - I understand. And she doesn`t need to hear me reproach her - she knows she did wrong."

　　 "Then why?" Lucian asked. "Why are you still avoiding her if this whole matter is resolved? I`ve seen you with your brother plenty of times, and you two seem close. But you only ever speak to your sister when you absolutely must. It`s as though the two of you don`t want to reconcile, but I know Kamila well enough - I train with her all the time, you know - I know Kamila well enough that it`s clear she wants to mend things between the two of you."This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author`s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

　　 "There`s nothing to mend." Hilda shook her head.

　　 "There is," Lucian insisted, stepping toward Hilda and setting a hand on her shoulder. "She`s ashamed, and she wants to redeem herself to you. She loves you, Hilda, but she`s broken. And it`s not right that you two should be so separate."

　　 "Let her be ashamed," Hilda hissed. "She might want my forgiveness, but only because she sees me as someone she has to protect. To her I`m still a child. And she failed at protecting me so she has to make it up somehow, by doing a better job. But I`m not a child, and I`m certainly not her ward."

　　 Lucian nodded slowly. "You seem to have this all figured out."

　　 "Well, yeah," Hilda said. Behind her she felt the wind pick up a little, blowing strands of her hair in front of her face. She tucked them back under the band of her cap. "It`s why she`s so angry, why she`s so enthusiastic about partnering with the Adma, attacking instead of defending. She doesn`t want me to have to fight. She doesn`t want me to have to take responsibility. She doesn`t want me to be an adult."

　　 Lucian sighed and shook his head, stepped closer to Hilda. "I wish I could say I disagreed, but she`s your sister. You know her, and for all that I know her, you know all the better."

　　 Hilda nodded. Her hand found the crook of Lucian`s elbow and held tight there. "Yeah, like I said& she doesn`t want me to be an adult. She thinks she can protect me forever, and&" Hilda trailed off.

　　 "Those aren`t her decisions to make," Lucian said.

　　 "I know," whispered Hilda, standing up on the tips of her toes so her face was level with his. Lucian`s lips tasted of berries and ice and the retreating winter. He blinked, and she saw his eyes water, leaned her forehead against his. After a moment he gently pulled away. Heart pounding, warm, Hilda lowered herself onto her heels.

　　 "What are you going to do when the Invictans come, Lucian?" she asked. "You know you can`t follow the same path as Kamila, don`t you?"

　　 "I guess I`ll defend the city." He shrugged. "Same as everyone else. We all have our jobs to do keeping this place safe."

　　 Hilda laughed. "All hands on deck, right?"

　　 "Right." Lucian smiled.

　　 "Walk with me, will you?" Hilda said, grabbing Lucian`s hand tightly and turning toward the city.

　　 Kivv`s eastern gate was a smaller stone arch, compared to the great western Rust Gates on the other side of the town. A pair of guards waved their hands in greeting to the two young Valers when they entered. They did not ask any questions - they did not need to.

　　 Inside the city, the trees were more carefully tended. The fruits and flowers of spring were emerging early, coaxed by masterful gardeners so that they showed their colors to all. Hilda reached up to one of the trees as she passed and plucked an early-sprouted bud, the beginnings of a flower. At the end of the branch, that which would one day be a fruit was starting to grow. Hilda took the flower and tucked it under her cap, the not-quite-sweet smell of it filling her nostrils in warming air.

　　 The Reaper Monastery was close to her right, and its grounds appeared almost deserted. Hilda led Lucian by the hand inside, and up the stairs, and they talked about the upcoming spring, about the joy of the winter that was passing and the greater happiness that spring rain would bring to them. Outside, a thin snow fell - what might be the final snow for many weeks and moons.

　　 They stopped in the doorway and talked of trifles for a while longer.

　　 Finally Hilda said: "there`s only one more thing I want to say about Kamila. When you see her next, please don`t treat her any different because of what I`ve said to you today."

　　 Lucian nodded, said nothing.

　　 "I still mean to avoid her, it`s true, but that doesn`t mean I don`t care for her at all. Kamila is my sister, and you don`t have reason to avoid and fear her like I do. She respects you in a way she never can respect me. She doesn`t think of you -"

　　 "As a child," Lucian said, nodding again.

　　 Hilda smiled, her hand twisting behind her on the doorknob. "We`re the same," she said. "You and I know, it doesn`t matter if any -"

　　 She never finished that sentence.

　　 Berries and ice. Ice that held its form even as it burned, burned so hot she nearly pulled her hands away. The fear of that sudden warmth was a lance through her heart. But the fire did not destroy, it embraced. Her hands bunched up cloth on his back. Lucian pulled back, and Hilda, holding on tight, looked into his eyes.

　　 Unfocused was the wrong word for how Lucian`s eyes usually looked. Distracted was more accurate. When he walked, Lucian`s eyes drifted, lingered on little things, things that grew and bloomed, things that never grew.

　　 He was not distracted now.

　　 So warm&

　　 He muttered something quiet, something that didn`t quite register in Hilda`s ears. The blood rushed in her head and her legs wouldn`t stop shaking and she couldn`t understand a word he was saying but she could read his tone well enough: please don`t let this be a mistake

　　 Hilda moved with only dull awareness of her own muscles, pulling him closer into her room, shoving the door closed behind her.

　　 So warm&

　　 They move together like panicked birds taking wing, clumsy and drunk on old fallen fruit.

　　They hardly know how to lift themselves, and the wind is heavy under them

　　 But it`s enough. For every nervous step, every halting gesture and touch, every stab of hesitation, it`s enough. It`s enough. It`s enough!

　　 So warm

　　 She pulls him to her, hands on his hips, head tucked under his chin, and feels his ragged breath run through her hair, raise the strands. Shivers. Every hair on her body is standing on end.

　　 So warm

　　 In the half-light, there is no time, no past or future. The pain and the worry drain from them, stripped away like their road-dirtied clothing as they entwine.

　　 So warm

　　 I - is this? -

　　 She wraps her arms and legs tight around him, thinking to whisper, "I`ll never let go." But the words don`t come. Her throat is tight and her breath is as uneven as Lucian`s.

　　 In the distance she hears a voice, like one speaking through a storm, yet she hears clearly: "Am I going to lose you too?"

　　 I`ll never let go

　　 "I don`t know," she says, and she hears nothing but his breath and the beat of his heart; sees nothing but the curl of his lip and the water in his eyes and the way he twitches when she digs in her feet and fingers; feels

　　 So fucking warm

　　 Hilda`s mind is ablaze at the height of their ecstasy, and she doesn`t let go -

　　 I can`t be alone -

　　 and beside her his breath shifts in speed, and he mutters with each urgent gasp

　　 Not helpless, not a child, not abandoned, not alone, not left behind in that cursed place

　　 and their fingers intertwine when he shudders against her, and she leans in, biting hard to contain the sound that`s aching to get out, and -

　　 It`s so fucking warm and you`re everywhere, warm and slick and

　　 and she laughs, a pure and mirthful shriek as the world finally feels just for one moment, gives her some small solace -

　　 Not helpless, not a child, not abandoned, not alone

　　 and

　　 Hilda stood in the mist, a cool and soothing blanket that lay over her. The instant stretched into minutes and she realized that she was holding still the end of a great chain. But this time, the chain had a name, and she knew that name. This time, when the chain shifted, she could feel the alterations in the aura. The movement of the chain was like a movement of the future, like when she sensed the sword`s blow a moment before it would have fallen.

　　 Lucian`s chain did shift, a link breaking and being replaced. And the name of the chain that fell was "Go to Kurikuneku, kill the Emperor." The name of the chain that grew in its place was her own name.

　　 Hilda cried out in distress when the chain slipped from her grasp. The knowledge had come to her in a moment of clarity and everything had just clicked, like all the possible decisions that stretched out around her in an infinite web were within her grasp. She could walk along those myriad chains, feel the cold steel of their truths in her palms, and name every one.

　　 and

　　 Her mind was all white and warm and wrapped up in sweat-scented sheets, a comforting weight beside her, around her, as their heartbeats slowed together as one.

　　 "I won`t let go," she muttered, her eyes fluttering closed.

　　 Before she slept, she heard: "I won`t make you let go."