Heir of Broken Fate: Chapter 15

I circle Hazel, stepping in to correct her posture and stance with each movement she makes. The wooden staff in her hand never drops, her eyes as hard as steel as she hones all her focus and rage into the movements. I began training Hazel this morning, starting off with various defense, offense, and striking positions, making sure she learns the basics of footwork and balance before moving onto anything else.

Hazel wipes the back of her hand across her forehead as sweat drips down her skin. She thought it was ridiculous that simple fighting stances could make a person perspire. That led to the awkward conversation that although she’s Fae and has heightened strength, some of her muscles are weak. Especially as she moves through the new movements, muscles she hasn’t used before are coming to life.

Her legs quiver and shake as she flattens the soles of her feet, balancing with her toes and bending her knees as she prepares her body to attack and defend at a moment’s notice.

Once her arms begin to shake from holding the staff after an hour, I decide to call it. “Okay, that’s enough for today. It’ll take time for your muscles to remember the positions but you’re doing well.”

Hazel lowers the staff, grabbing her waterskin. “My god, that’s taxing. I never knew balancing could be so difficult.”

I follow Hazel, joining her as I drink my own water. “It’s not so much the balancing as it is the muscle use.”

Hazel dips her chin. “I need lunch before we begin our magic training. We need to replenish our energy before we start.”

I pick up the staff and swords I brought outside, thankful that one of the bags I grabbed from the carriage that night contained weapons. “Sounds good to me.”

“How long have you been training?” Hazel asks suddenly.

I shrug before carrying our supplies to the cabin. “Since I was seven.”

Hazel’s brows pull down low. “Why so young?”

I swallow, my throat suddenly dry. “I wanted to be strong.”

Hazel’s eyes soften. I didn’t reveal the details of my father’s treatment, but Hazel isn’t stupid; she knows Easton’s murder wasn’t the only incident.

“What’s Aloriah like now in the human lands?” Hazel asks softly.

I dump the training equipment beside my cot, breathing out a long sigh. “Horrible. The laws are ridiculous. No matter your age or sickness, the people are required to do manual labor. People are starving and homeless. There’s no freedom, no joy, no life—not one worth living.”

“Is that why you left?” Hazel asks, strolling through the kitchen.

“Yes and no. When I found the Fae in the In-between, I was hoping I could find the remaining Fae. The Fae and humans lived in peace for centuries, so I thought someone could help.” I wash my hands beside Hazel before moving on to prepare lunch. “Speaking of, did you have loved ones in the human lands?”

Hazel places various vegetables on the worktop bench, passing me knives as she speaks. “No, however, I had many friends that lost loved ones. With the time that has passed, they’re all gone now.”

Sadness simmers in my gut.

Not only did the Fae lose their freedom, but they lost the ones they loved on the other side. Lost precious time with them, something they’ll never be able to get back. To think that the very thing Fae are gifted—time—was played against them.

I awake the next morning to pure silence. I’ve become so attuned to the sounds of pans clanging and Hazel’s chipper voice singing in the morning that the silence raises my internal alarm bells. I slide out of bed, searching the cabin, only to find it empty. Hastily tugging on my training clothes, I walk outside.

I’m past the sprouting tomatoes when my Fae hearing picks up on sniffling in the distance. Without second-guessing myself I follow it, crossing the river’s wooden bridge, heading north. The sniffles grow louder with each step I take. The forest path gives way to a small swimming hole, surrounded by white, purple, blue, and pink flowers. A sob rings throughout the space, the guttural sound so full of pain even the birds leave the area, abandoning treetops as they fly for safety.

Dragging my sword from behind my back, I clench the silver pommel in my grip as I crouch, wading through the grass surrounding the swimming hole as I search for Hazel.

Another sob chokes out, and I spot a piece of white material peeking through the tall blades of grass. Walking closer, I realize no one’s harming Hazel, not physically at least.

A curved boulder sits above her head, the name Luna inscribed in the middle with an array of flowers and different colored crystals placed along the top of the headstone. Hazel is clutching a gray stuffed teddy bear to her chest, tears running down her cheek until sliding off onto the bear.

Kneeling beside Hazel, I gently place my hand on her shoulder. “Hazel?”

Her broken voice cleaves my heart in two. “It’s her birthday today. I continue living while my daughter barely made it to seven years old.”

With nothing to say to fix a grieving mother, I sit in silence with her as she breaks down. Each sob more gut wrenching than the last, making quiet tears roll down my cheeks.

It isn’t until what feels like an hour later—after Hazel’s shoulders rise and fall slowly, her breaths deepen, and the tears on her cheeks have dried—do I finally speak.

“Do you want to honor her today? Do all her favorite things?”

Hazel shakes her head adamantly. “No, it’s not right without her. It feels like a piece of myself is missing and I can’t bear the weight of her not being here, especially not today.”

“You could tell me about her, all your favorite memories,” I whisper.

Hazel blubbers as she chuckles. “She would love the attention.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do.”

Back at the cabin, Hazel brings a box out of her room, placing it on the coffee table. She sits beside me and opens it, pulling out Luna’s belongings with gentle hands.

Hazel’s shoulders slump as she removes a small pink fleece coat, hugging it to her chest. “It was just the two of us when Luna came into my life. Luna’s father wasn’t my mate. He had no obligation to stay and raise her. I never saw him after I told him I was with a child, and I was glad for it when she came into this world. My whole life changed. She was adorable, with giant blue eyes, strawberry blonde hair and the longest black eyelashes I had ever seen.”

Hazel pulls out a one-piece sunflower bathing suit. “Luna was an essence Fae, with earth magic from myself and water from her father. She was obsessed with water, would swim in it until her hands and feet turned into little prunes. I had to bribe her with pancakes to drag her out of it.” She giggles sadly. “I buried her at the swimming hole because it was her favorite spot to go to.”

Hazel’s silent for a moment before looking into the box. It isn’t until she pulls out an empty glass jar with a honey label that her face lights up. “When she was around four, she went through a stage of being obsessed with honey, asking for it at all times during the day. I didn’t understand why honey made her so happy until I found her sitting in the garden near a big puddle of honey. A small squirrel came up and started nibbling on it.” Hazel smiles yet it’s full of sadness and longing. “She would sit out there for hours, squealing and laughing away. Watching animal after animal come to eat her honey.”

Hazel turns toward me on the couch, bringing a knee up and propping her chin on her fist. “She’d say hello to anything that crossed her path. Ants, insects, birds, all types of creatures and Fae. It never mattered what they looked like, nothing scared her. She would even say hello to the ground goblins, saying that they’re just cranky because they need to smile more.” Hazel’s laugh is deep and full of love.

I chuckle along with her. “I like how she viewed the world.”

Hazel leans toward the box. With each item, she tells me a story about Luna. Slowly, a small part of pain is replaced with happiness as she shares a part of her daughter with me.