Reborn From the Cosmos

ARC 7-Cursed Fates-151-Alana



ARC 7-Cursed Fates-151-Alana

Under the watchful gaze of a full moon, Alana swung her sword. She was drenched in sweat, her clothes clinging to her hot skin. After they returned from the camp, which Yulia had made a nuisance of herself in for hours, shadowing Alyssa and asking her dozens of questions, she’d grabbed her sword and stepped outside to train. Endless repetitions of the same simple swings until her heart hammered in her chest and her arms ached. Still, she kept going.

It wasn’t that she was fond of exercise. There was a time in her life when she hated it. Hated that she had to work for something her siblings had been born into.

She also didn’t have a talent for it. Witnessing Lancecain duel knights twice his age and come out the victor, so long as the contest remained that of pure swordsmanship, had disabused her of any illusions about that.

But after so many years, so many tiring days and nights collapsing from exhaustion, effort was a part of her. The ache of her muscles centered her in same way a hot cup of tea or a loved one’s embrace did for others. It helped her think. Helped her suppress her emotions when they started to get beyond her control, so she could work through them. And there was a lot to work through.

To her surprise, the devastation the city was the easiest for her to accept. While the scene of the ruined Quest inspired mixed feelings, she searched her heart and found no negative emotions toward Lou.

Her lover tried to be compassionate and failed, her mercy crushed under the weight of the guilds’ reckless arrogance. Alana didn’t fault her for that. Compassion was a pretty thing but she didn’t view it as a virtue. Besides, Lou wasn’t a kind person. She admired the attempt, but she’d doubted it from the beginning. What she expected, no, demanded, if not verbally than with her presence, was that Lou remain honorable.

For all her faults, and there were plenty of those, though Alana had come around to seeing them more as quirks and was even attracted to a couple, Lou was a very honorable person. She was loyal to those who were loyal to her. She treated her friends well and her enemies fairly. She wielded her power with discretion if not the greatest judgment. All virtues few others could live up to.

Victory was as close as Alana had seen to an honorable society, but it was built on a foundation of zealotry. Lou, on the other hand, had no one to teach her honor. Her empathy, as much as she tried to deny it, had guided her to it.

Truly, it was what Alana respected most about Lou, besides the woman’s brazen confidence in the parts of her nature that would make other people shy away in embarrassment. Lou was a good person. The woman herself didn’t believe it. She thought she was a monster. Alana knew better but she was concerned it could become true.

Lou was changing. The business with the guilds had hardened her. Muted her insufferable personality and raging passion. The noblewoman was almost grim and it was unsettling to see.

Change wasn’t a bad thing. Alana wasn’t happy to see Lou sad, that was infuriating, but she also believed that there could be some good to come from it. She’d always feared that Lou’s empathy would get her in trouble. Especially with the wrong woman. This mess had forced her to…Alana hesitated to think mature. Evolve. Or rather, reach an equilibrium. A little grimness to balance out too much passion.

Though it was only good so long as the equilibrium lasted. Alana didn’t want Lou to be consumed by the guilt she pretended she didn’t feel or the burden she realized she carried as someone with the power to exterminate life on a large scale. They needed to restore Lou’s passion.

Something she wasn’t sure how to do.

She’d hoped Yulia’s little stunt would do the trick. Lou enjoyed helping the unfortunate. As she’d learned during their argument in the north, their first real fight, she saw it as helping herself. It made her feel better about herself and the world. Normally, she would have leaped at the camp. Not with real commitment, that was asking too much for strangers whose names she’d never know, but with reckless spending. The fact she’d barely seemed interested, even knowing that Geneva’s spell had gone awry…didn’t bode well.

They’d have to take drastic action.

If only she knew what that action should be. Several hours of cutting the air and she still didn’t have a clue and it was getting harder to contain her frustration at her uselessness.

And that was the real reason why she was sweating buckets instead of eating a delicious dinner and climbing into a warm bed. Her uselessness. She knew becoming strong enough that Lou relied on her rather than protected her would be hard, verging on the impossible. She knew it would take time, more time than she could rightly fathom. Knowing it didn’t make it any easier to wait.

“Surely you do not plan to sweat alone, star.”

Alana paused mid-swing and sighed heavily. She hadn’t heard the elf’s approach. “I’m too tired for your training too,” she groused as Kierra stepped in front of her, smiling softly. That was one person she wasn’t worried about. She’d been concerned while Talia was gone, fearing what the violent woman would do to take revenge if her flower was harmed, but with the taken women returned, the elf had returned to her normal genial self.

“I could fix that.”

“Mentally, you beast.”

“Thank you.”

“Why is it that both of you keep taking insults as compliments?”

Kierra chuckled. “Because we know you mean them as such. If you did not like it, you would not share our bed, hm?”

Alana flushed. “So? What are you doing out here?”

“Looking for you. What has you out here? You do not normally prefer the night to a good meal.”

“I’ve clearing my head. Thinking.”

“About?”

“Stupid things.”

“They are not stupid if they trouble you. Tell me.”

“You’re not going to let this drop, are you?”

“No. The more hesitant you are, the more curious I become.”

“…fine.”

Alana resumed her swinging while the elf stood in a relaxed posture, blurting out her worries. About Lou. About herself. About her inability to fix either. Kierra listened attentively. Alana hated how good of a listener the woman was. Lou was a good ear, but she couldn’t help interjecting, sometimes with something impactful, sometimes with something inane. The little breaks and shortcuts allowed her to catch her breath, keep her balance.

Kierra didn’t interrupt. She didn’t say a word, simply stared at her target. The silence created a pressure that squeezed the thoughts out of her mind and before she knew it, Alana was saying everything, even things she didn’t plan on saying.

There was a good side. Whenever she finished talking to Kierra, she always felt unburdened. It was more effective than hours of mindless exercise, something she proved as she stopped her practice midway through her rant, sheathing her sword and leaning against it.

The elf hummed as Alana finished rambling. “You bring up a good point.”

“What? About our role in Quest’s future? The camp? Yulia? Our lacking strength?”

“Lou’s waning passion. This cannot stand.”

“Or that. I guess you have a plan?”

“Mm, yes. I know just what to do.”

Alana fought not to blush as the elf stepped forward to brush her fingertips over her cheek. Unfortunately, embarrassment wasn’t a muscle that could be trained. She didn’t know why simple things like the gesture continued to fluster her. After all she’d done…all she’d let be done to her. Just thinking about made her face heat up more, defeating the purpose.

“You are right. A conqueror is not a tyrant. We must not let our Lou slide into the darkness. But to stop it will require great work. Great…sacrifice. From you. Can you do that?”

“…what do you have in mind?”

The elf smiled what Lou had deemed her bloodthirsty smile and Alana fought the urge to run. “Something I am sure you will enjoy…eventually.”


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