Chapter Text
The last remaining occupant of the infirmary awoke with a cough that crashed into the walls and echoed back through the rows of empty cots.
Irelia grabbed the glass of water on the patient’s bedside table and held it out for Qi-Yang to take.
Qi-Yang turned away from her, too busy scratching a spot on her back where bandages had become tangled after hours upon hours of shuffling in bed.
“Okay,” Irelia said, putting the glass back. “Rude.”
At Irelia’s comment, Qi-Yang turned, then blinked at the glass, sitting atop the table. Her gaze drifted down to her hand—or rather, the stump that remained, just above where her elbow would’ve been.
“Oh,” Qi-Yang blinked, then repeated the gesture as if blinking enough times could bring her right arm back into existence. “I could’ve sworn I was holding it…”
“How are you feeling?” Irelia asked.
Qi-Yang dragged herself over to the side of the bed and gulped down the water. “Super,” she finally groaned, though her cracked lips betrayed how much of the past week she’d spent asleep from a variety of sedatives, herbs, and Harin’s numbing powers.
A drop of water slipped down the corner of Qi-Yang’s mouth, tainted crimson with blood. Irelia grabbed a handkerchief off the bedside table and--
Qi-Yang pinned her wrist to the edge with blinding speed.
“You don’t even know what I was going to do,” Irelia said.
“I lost an arm,” Qi-Yang hissed through gritted teeth. “That is all. You do not have to treat me as if I am now incapable of basic human function.”
“Okay,” Irelia snapped. “Fine. I was leaving anyway.”
She stormed to the door. Behind her, she could hear Qi-Yang shuffling in her cot, getting comfortable. Frustration flushed into her veins, igniting her blood. She barely heard Qi-Yang’s “wait.”
And because Irelia had had enough bullsh*t, she decided one “wait” wasn’t going to be enough. Nope. Not today.
“Wait. I’m sorry.”
That earned Qi-Yang a three-second pause before the door, nothing more. Irelia inhaled, exhaled, then grabbed the doorknob and twisted—
“I’m sorry,” Qi-Yang called, her voice echoing across the empty infirmary. “I don’t know…why I said those things. I would like it—appreciate it, if I have someone to talk to.”
Irelia pushed the door closed and returned to her seat.
Qi-Yang averted Irelia’s gaze, choosing to focus on the lint collected on her bed sheets. “You ever want to die for a couple years and then come back to life?”
“I’m not sure I follow,” Irelia said.
“You live through something—it’s supposed to change you. Make you more,” Qi-Yang said, rubbing the side of her stump, “responsible. You’re supposed to learn from the tragedy and come back stronger.”
And because Irelia was feeling extra spiteful, she said, “so you would prefer to stay stupid and irresponsible?”
“Maybe it’s our right to be stupid and irresponsible,” Qi-Yang said. “You ever think about that? Ten years ago…we were kids, Irelia. And instead of being stupid and impulsive, we had to grow up, pick up weapons and try to tame gods.”
“Because everyone else was being stupid and impulsive.”
“Exactly,” Qi-Yang said. “It’s not fair, is it?”
“That was ten years ago,” Irelia said. “A lot has changed since then.”
“A lot still hasn’t.”
“Maybe not to you,” Irelia said.
Qi-Yang began reaching for the tangled-up bandages again, cursing when her reach came up just short. “Let me,” Irelia said, and Qi-Yang relented. “This world is made up of people and creatures much like us,” Irelia said as she redid the dressing. “As much as spirits and deities influence us, we are ultimately the ones who make war and peace. The world changes when we change. One by one.”
“That’s a little too philosophical for a Tuesday,” Qi-Yang said.
“It’s Sunday,” Irelia said, finishing the knot. “This is your first time fully conscious in five days.”
There was a knock at the door, and the door opened a slit. “Can we come in yet?” A familiar voice hollered, sounding like they were pressed between the door and its frame.
“Oh right,” Irelia said, gesturing for them to come in. “I forgot. You have a visitor.”
“I just want you to be prepared,” came Riven’s voice from the now-open door. “You might walk in there and she could have a metal hook for an arm.”
“Oh!” said a younger, shrill voice. “Like a pirate!”
“I was on a pirate ship once,” said Riven, as she guided a toddler in bright blue clothes into the infirmary. “Kind of. I think?”
The child squealed at the sight of Qi-Yang and dashed to the cot. She somersaulted and landed on the bed next to her older sister, legs crossed under her. “Are you going to get a metal hook for an arm?”
“It’s something to think about,” Qi-Yang said, brushing her younger sister’s jet-black hair into something more presentable with her hand. “Now. On a scale of one to ten, how mad is mom at me?”
“Seventeen,” the toddler said without missing a beat, already jumping from one cot to the next.
“Seventeen or seventy?” Qi-Yang called after her.
“Seventy,” her younger sister said, jumping back onto Qi-Yang’s bed. She grinned, showing a missing front tooth. “Look!” She pulled out a paper boat. “Riven taught me how to make this!”
Qi-Yang stared at the object. “This is an insult to your origami skills. You can make much better folded objects than this.”
“But it’s a paper boat,” the toddler said, then pouted. “It floats in water. Riven said paper doesn’t do that usually.”
“She is lying to you,” Qi-Yang said, then pointed an accusing finger at Riven. “Quit lying to the child.”
“Is it lying if I technically didn’t know that?” Riven said.
“Grow one,” Qi-Yang said.
“Grow what?”
“A brain.”
“Okay, that’s enough,” Irelia said and dragged Riven out before she could get the last word in.
“I was just gonna warn her about the land reclamation ceremony,” Riven said.
“No you weren’t,” Irelia said.
“Great spirits,” was Dai’s first reaction upon peeking out of the carriage. “Whatever the hell did you do?” His eyes scanned the chunks of land lying like beached sea creatures on a dried-out shore, then the large stone wall that stood just beyond it all.
“You are here to assist in returning this land to the spirits.” Irelia resisted the urge to pull the man out of his seat by the collar of his tunic. “So get out and do your job.”
With a “hmph”, Dai stepped out. Two students of his carried large sacks, whose contents clanged with each uneven step.
They picked a spot a safe distance away from the landmasses. From the sacks came braziers, incense sticks, porcelain plates, clay bowls, and herbs—enough to fill a small temple’s offering room. The scholars began placing them, consulting large scrolls among the three of them.
Irelia watched from afar, Riven at her side.
“You think it’s going to work?” Riven said.
“One way or another the spirits will reclaim this land. This ritual will seek to smooth things over between the spirits and us and apologize for the mess,” Irelia said. “But it’s already happening. The spirits…can’t you smell it? The air, it tastes sweeter. The smell of blood is almost completely gone.”
Plumes of incense-flavored smoke rose into the air. The two young scholars guided the smoke with two large fans made from bamboo, while Dai repeated a hymn from memory.
It began with grass. The army had attempted to clean up as well as they could, but the remnants of war proved resilient. Helmets, shields, and broken weapons—the greenery swallowed all as it burst from the ground.
There was a shower of dust from the land masses as pale roots pushed through layers of rock and soil. Above, seeds sprouted, grew, and thickened into great trees. In moments, crimson leaves lit up the new mountains, reflected in the pools of water that filled up at their bases.
Moss crawled up the ragged stone wall, tearing some of it down. Then, the entire structure trembled and shot up into the sky, massive boulders rising out from underneath it. Loose rocks tumbled down, christening the new cliff face. The crude defensive structures at the top of the wall grazed the tips of the clouds. It looked like a watchtower constructed for the heavens to gaze down upon from.
“Wow,” Riven said, breathless.
“I hope you’re not thinking of passing along the mantle of ‘Captain’ to me,” Korrin said, pushing a branch of fiery leaves out of the way so Irelia could pass.
The two of them had hiked up one of the new mountains. As Irelia stood, finally, at its peak, she exhaled. “That obvious, huh?”
Korrin joined her, dusting off his clothes. “You always struck me as someone who led because you had to, not necessarily because you wanted to.”
“This won’t be the end of turmoil for Ionia,” Irelia said.
“Which is why you should be handing the position off to someone with more experience leading. One of your lieutenants. Not me, who has none.”
“I was thinking it would be a more gradual thing. That slowly you might learn to take on more and more responsibility.
Korrin shook his head.
“No?” Irelia said.
“No,” he said. “And besides, you still owe me. For making me break up the fight between Qi-Yang and Yujen.”
It took Irelia a moment to remember what exactly he was referring to. She burst into laughter. “You’re right,” she said.
A breeze picked up, bringing the smell of life to her lips. “So, what’s in your future?”
Korrin was quiet for a bit. Finally, as if admitting it embarrassed him, he said: “I’m going to search for my mother.”
Irelia met his gaze. As embarrassed as he was, she could see that resolute, he was too.
“Whenever my father spoke of her, he would always look in the direction of the ocean. So, I figure I would begin by searching the coastal towns,” he said. “Yujen and Harin are heading that way anyway, so I’ll tag along.”
He paused, waiting for her response.
“I’m happy for you.” Irelia pulled him into a tight embrace. “But stay in touch, okay?” He nodded against her shoulder. “Don’t get lost. We’ll always be here for you.”
“Yeah. Of course.” He wiped away a stray tear and chuckled at how emotional he was getting.
Footsteps could be heard coming up the path, and a couple of moments later Riven stepped into view.
“Do you want me to leave so you can break the news to her?” Irelia asked.
“No need,” Korrin said. “She was the first one I told.”
“Hey,” was Riven’s first words to him. “About to head off?”
They exchanged goodbyes and Korrin left, leaving only Riven and Irelia at the mountain peak.
“It’s beautiful up here,” Riven said, examining the leaves of the trees. “Can’t believe I didn’t find it first. Now I can’t surprise you with it.”
“All you had to do was climb,” Irelia said, laughing.
“The one time I’m lazy……” Riven trailed off, joining Irelia at the cliff’s edge, overlooking all that was laid out below. “So, what’s gonna happen? I mean, now that it’s all over.”
“I don’t know,” Irelia confessed.
“You gonna wine and dine me?”
Irelia let out a snort. “You wish. You think this job pays well?”
“Irelia, are you telling me we are poor?”
“Dirt poor,” Irelia confirmed.
Riven glanced around, as if checking for eavesdroppers, before cupping a hand around Irelia’s ear. “Don’t worry, my dad’s rich.”
“Why are you whispering?” Irelia tried to force her laugh down but it came bursting out, echoing in the wide open space.
She felt Riven take her by the hands, and once the amusem*nt finally trickled out of her system, she found Riven staring at her. “What?”
“I love you,” Riven said.
“I know,” Irelia said without a doubt in her mind. She pulled Riven close. “I don’t know what the future holds,” she said. “But would you like to wait and find out? Together?”
The wind blowing through the leaves sounded like a thousand crisp bells, ringing in unison. Already, bird cries could be heard across the mountaintops. Warm sunlight cast down upon a land that had resisted all, and a love that had conquered all.
