Page 144 of A Legacy of the Light

At least the reprieve this time was longer than a few days. I had a few weeks of feeling like a whole person again.

My senses have gradually taken on that of a Seelie over the last two weeks, too. My hearing, sight, smell, strength, and speed have all sharpened and honed. I have to hold back in training with Reyne so she doesn’t get suspicious. It’s difficult keeping this information away from her. With each day, and each training session, I contemplate telling her. Not the whole truth, but at least some of it.

I discuss the idea with Finneus but he advises me against it, says it’s too risky. But ultimately the decision is mine.

And I’m tired. I’m so tired. Tired of carrying every-thing on my own. I’m tired of having to get back up every time I get knocked down. I’m tired of taking two steps forward and three steps back.

I drop my arms mid-spar with Reyne that Friday afternoon two weeks after my breakfast with Raghnall.

“I’m done for today,” I tell her, lowering my head.

“Okay,” she replies softly, and we start our usual cooldown.

“Elsie, I’m worried about you. Please talk to me,” she pleads, stepping close to me and taking my hands in hers after we finish.

I open my mouth, and an unexpected well of tears fill my eyes. I close them in an attempt to stop the tears from falling.

“Come with me.” Reyne leads me out of the training ring and into the kitchens.

“Two hot chocolates please, Colin!” she calls and pulls me across the kitchens to a door I haven’t been through. On the other side is a pantry. Wooden shelves line the wall with a variety of food on them.

In the center sits a small round table made of oak, four chairs surrounding it. She pulls a chair out for me.

“Sit,” she instructs gently.

I slump into the chair and bury my head in my hands. The sobs leave me before I can shove them into the secure little box where I shove everything else.

“For two weeks,” Reyne starts, pulling another chair so she’s sat close to me, “I’ve watched you shut down and pull away and close yourself off to us all. Please let me in, Elsie. Let me help you.”

Another sob heaves out of me and she places a comforting hand on my back.

“I’m so tired, Reyne.”

“Of what?” she prompts.

“This ache in my chest. It’s been almost two years since the accident and it feels like it was yesterday.” I look up at her, tears freely running down my cheeks. “When does it end?”

She pulls me to her in a tight embrace. “It doesn’t end, lass. You learn to live with it.”

I pull back and look at her. She cups my face and wipes away my tears.

“I haven’t had to go through it myself, thank Dhia. But I’ve seen enough of loss to know that it takes time. It isn’t linear. And you shouldn’t beat yourself up for having days like this. I do know that you shouldn’t shut out those who care about you when the hard days happen.”

Her blue eyes hold mine and she smiles gently at me. “You’re my friend, Elsie. Let me in.”

My bottom lip quivers and she pulls me to her again. I wrap my arms around her and cry. I cry until nothing is left. I cry out at how unfair it is. I cry out at my inability to move on. I cry out at everything they will miss now, and how Grandpa and I are so alone.

I’m not sure Reyne can understand any of my wailing, but she holds me through all of it and lets me break against her unending kindness.

At some point, Colin softly knocks and enters, leaving the hot chocolates on the table. He leaves quietly without saying a word to either of us.

The tears slow, and Reyne asks, “Is it the holidays? Does that bring these feelings to the surface?”

I nod against her. “I guess being here and not with Grandpa, I feel really alone. I can feel myself slipping back into the dark place I was in before I arrived.”

“You’re not alone,” she says, and rubs a comforting hand down my back.

“I wish you’d have told me,” she adds softly, squeezing me tighter. “Here, have some of this before it goes cold.”