Story Day - Path

Inktober this year yielded a lot of great stories, but this was the first that I felt I could turn into a whole novel. There's so much untapped potential here, so many backstories I could weave, so many tropes I love... agh. I want to write it.

But. I have other projects. So I'm sticking with this being a short little snippet thing for now and will share it with you guys to console myself.

The Prompt

This was the third day of Inktober. The prompt was Path.

The Story

His heart soared. It was there - finally, it was there. Right in front of him, just waiting for him to step in and go home. 

He was so ready.

“Well?” Kisha’s quiet murmur broke him from his trance. “What are you waiting for, my friend? Is this not what you have sought every moment of your waking hours for the past three years?”

“It is,” Kayden replied, his voice soft. “Aye, it is.”

“So why do you not seize your prize? The longer you wait, the more chance it has to be taken from you.”

He nodded, but his mind was adrift in memory, away from Kisha’s tiny form next to him, her lilting accent, the empty quiver slung at her hip and bow she held in her hand. He was unaware of the blood on his arm, the way his sword trembled in his grasp.

It’s been so long…

Would they remember him? His mother and father and brothers and sister? Would they remember the boy that fell into the ice so many years ago and never came back out? Or would he return exactly to where he left off and have to claw his way out of the freezing water, reverted back to his scrawny 14-year-old frame instead of the broad one he bore now? Or maybe a lot of time had passed at home compared to his years here. Maybe his family was gone, his friends were gone, his home and favorite haunts were gone. Maybe his quiet little town would be a city by now.

Or maybe he would be returned right on his doorstep, mere hours after falling into the ice, and his family would be there and welcome him with open arms. His mother and sister would sob with relief that he was alive and alright. His baby brother would cry because Mom and Lisa were crying. His two older brothers would tackle him to the ground and wrestle him for hours just to let him know how scared they were. And his dad would crush him with a hug so strong it would break mountains were it not so full of love.

But no. He breathed a sigh. If I’ve learned anything here, it’s that things never go like I want.

Kisha poked his arm, bringing him back to the present. “Kayden. Time is wasting.”

He blinked, the glowing path leading through the portal home swirling back into vision. “Yes. Yes, it is.”

But how could he say goodbye to the one person who hadn’t thought him crazy, who had fought with him side-by-side as he found his way back home?

She shifted on one foot, glancing back the way they had come. Her arrows were spent, but she still had a slender curved sword on her back. She would use it if she had to, Kayden knew, but he also knew how much she hated the close-up-and-personal experience of swordwork. He had to let her go before she was forced to deal with that.

His first swordkill flashed into his mind, tightening his stomach and scraping his heart with a bitter ache.

And yet he couldn’t just… leave. Nor did he have the words for a proper farewell.

Sighing, he turned to her. “I need to go.”

“No, I didn’t realize.” She smirked and shook her head, but her eyes were dark pools of grim determination. Determination to make it out alive? To see him home? Or to let him go?

“I… You’ve helped me a lot. Thanks.”

“Anytime.” She swept a graceful bow.

He saw beneath her calm facade, though. “Anytime”? If she were truly fine, as she presented herself to be, she would be giving him a speech. One-word answers were a red flag.

“You good?” He had asked her many times over the past three years, and it had taken her ages to finally admit when she wasn’t. Briefly Kayden wondered if this parting would be easier if he had never taken the time to find the true Kisha and know her.

But he would also never have the memories he so cherished now. And he would have missed out on the best of friends.

She hesitated, and he saw the doubt flicker in her eyes as she warred between walling him off with her off-hand, “I am well”, or voicing her true state and risking the hurt that came with it.

But healing often came out of hurt.

“I…” she hesitated again. “I am well.”

Kayden stared her down.

Finally, she snorted. “You are a true knave if ever I met one.”

He waited. Portal or no portal, he wasn’t leaving without an honest answer.

Kisha must have noticed his resoluteness. Her face slowly crumbled away from its carefree smile and defensive snark to reveal the agony beneath.

“You’re breaking my heart,” she whispered.

Her bow clattered to the floor, but she didn’t stoop to pick it up, instead covering her face with her hands.

Kayden's own heart shuddered with the impact of her words. He'd known leaving her would hurt her, but she had often turned down his offer to come home with him. She had a life of her own here, a lost family to find and more friends to help, and she would not leave it no matter the cost.

But Kayden couldn’t stay with her. He knew he had to go back. He didn’t belong here, didn’t fit in. He had a family waiting for him, a family that might think him dead.

“Kisha…” He didn’t know what else to say. She hated being touched, so he couldn’t hug her or comfort her in that way.

A deep breath shook her body. She dropped her hands away from her face, revealing that sad smile of hers. “I know. Do not worry, my friend. Broken hearts can be mended.”

“But not completely.”

She nodded. “Mine has been broken many times before. Trust me, V’loahd. I will recover. You will take a piece of my heart with you, and I will take a piece of yours. We will both have to learn again how to brave the pain and loss and live as we once did. We will have to seek for joy instead of stumbling upon it. But we will triumph.”

He had to believe her. There was no other choice.

So he sheathed his sword, bent, picked up her graceful bow, and handed it to her. She accepted it without a word, dark eyes watching him solemnly.

That can’t just be it, he thought. There had to be more. 

His fingers brushed across the leather bracelet she had made him after he shot his first deer to feed them. A reminder of your victory, she had told him. Now he unlaced it, sliding it off his wrist and handing it to her. “Here. Now you can’t forget me.”

“I would not forget.” But she took it anyway and cinched it tight around her delicate wrist. 

Nodding at her, forcing a smile, Kayden turned to the pathway. A cold hand on his arm turned him back.

The light of Kisha’s eyes wavered behind her tears. She was holding out her bow to him.

“Oh, no.” Kayden took a step back, shaking his head. “I can’t take that.”

“Yes, you can.” 

He shook his head again. “You love that thing.”

But she refused to back down, instead taking a step forward and extending her bow again. “I love you more. It is a gift. Please, accept it.”

He couldn’t argue with her when she pleaded like that. He’d tried. So he took her bow from her hands, aching even more when her eyes flitted to it one last time. “Kisha…”

“It is a discourtesy to return a gift once taken.” Her tone was final.

“Yeah.” 

Man, did he feel unworthy of such a gift. A bow was how Kisha was known. How would she find her family without it? How would she bring down game or survive the Wilderlanders? This was the bow her father had made for her, the one that had encouraged her weary heart countless times on her road to finding them.

He couldn’t take it.

But she had given it freely, and he couldn’t return it.

Much like that piece of her heart.

“Thanks, Kish,” he said, and his voice cracked on her nickname.

“Love you too, V’loahd,” she replied, and punched his shoulder. “Now go. Your family is waiting.”

He punched her back, turned, and stepped onto the path. As the light carried him away, he kept his eyes on her face, engraving it into his memory to carry forever.

And as the portal shot him out into a busy street with cars honking and a train whistle blowing and children laughing in the daylight, he glanced at the bow in his hands. It was a magnificent gift, to be sure. But her heart was a priceless treasure, even in pieces. And he would cherish his portion until they met again at the end of all worlds.

---

Man, I love writing friendships - almost as much as I love writing family relationships. XD What are some of your favorite tropes to write? What potential do you see in this story? Should I have gone with something different? What first comes to your mind when you think of "path"?

Until next time,

Take courage, pursue God, and smile while you still have teeth!! ^_^

-Joelle