Phyora's Burden

"You have a sister?" Mak remarked his mouth wide open. I didn't understand quite well why Mak was so shocked, but nevertheless I stayed and listened. Without noticing Phyora had began slowly walking away, she had been off all day but I didn't want to make a scene out of it. The rest of them had continued on about what we were going to do tonight, the suggestion of drinking away the night. As I turned to check on her she was already half way up the road towards the school.

"Phyora!" I yelled, the group and I running after her to catch up.

"Something the matter?" I asked her, her eyes looked cold and worn, she seemed distant for a moment before she spoke.

"I'm just going to head to bed, if that's okay." She gave out a soft smile as she began to walk away, yet the smile gave me worries about her. Quickly I found myself being dragged off to the nearest tavern. I had known her for so long, but I still to this day could never understand her and her thoughts.

As we sat at a table, I was opposite of Ash who sat next to Mak, whose' face was bright red every time he turned to her. Next to me Celaire, who was just here to get absolutely smashed, some of the patrons came over to flirt with her and Ash. Which Mak seemed to not take too kindly, he quickly shot up and began to fight the other patrons over their flirting as the rest of us escaped it. All of us headed back to our beds, our minds fuzzy and our legs like willow swaying around with every step.

When I reached my room, I took a quick look over at Phyora before passing out facedown on my bunk. The next morning I awoke with an extreme hangover, and as I looked towards Phyora, she wasn't there. Taking a couple minutes to steady myself, I decided that she had gotten up earlier than me, so I went to fetch some water to parch the thirst that had been dwelling inside me since I fell asleep.

Walking past the training area, I heard someone cutting away at some practice dummies, so with my cup of water I went in. Phyora had gotten up early and was practicing her movements on them, but from what I could tell she had been at this far longer than I initially thought. Her body was drenched in sweat, her swings were lethargic and far too long winded for her standards.

"How long you been at this for?" I asked her, as she quickly put the sword down, turning at me in shock as she hadn't realised I had entered the room.

She quickly pulled the sword up again and went back to slashing, "A couple hours... why?" she said back, her sweat now like rain dripping off the edge of her blade onto the cold stone floor below.

I began to sip at my cup of water and sat on a bench ang continued to watch her.

"Was just wondering, you usually end up waking me up in the morning." I retorted drinking the cup to half way.

"You looked too drunk to be worth waking. That and I needed the practice alone." she replied, seemingly reinvigorated beginning to whack away at the dummy again.

"Ah. You could've woke me up for some sparring you know." I placed down the cup onto the bench next to me, and pulled my legs up to my chest and continued to watch from the bench.

"Didn't want to." she quickly snapped back, her attacks becoming more vicious.

"Hmm... Well don't hurt yourself before tomorrow. Considering your fights and all." I mentioned as I began to leave the room. The sound of her swings seemed to stop instantly and as I turned I could see her bundled up with her hands on her head. Slowly she began rocking, her hands constantly moving and from what I could tell a silent wind carried her whispers softly through the room.

Sprinting over to her she seemed to be isolated in her own mind, not paying attention to anything or her surroundings. Her face reminded me of mine, the same face I made when imprisoned, the same face that she had tried to help save from a life of sorrow. Slowly I crouched down beside her, the sweat on her face joined with the tears now slowly tumbling down her face like a waterfall, placing my hand on her shoulder I tried to think of what I should say, what would help her? Then her silence broke.

"I never wanted to be a knight... and now that I am... the pain I once had of missing home is doubled now that I've lost them." her voice shook as she spoke, a small trembling of her lower lip which scrounged up and wrinkled on her chin.

"Them?" I replied, an ere of caution in my voice. Understanding full well that anything I could say could cause more trouble than good.

"Relund and Caleo. The rest of... of our squad." she continued, her breathing becoming more frantic.

Within me I felt a sense of regret, her pain was all to real to me. It felt like a kindred spirit had been found over something that no person should ever truly have to feel, almost as if it was our pain that kept a link between us during this time.

"How long have you been like this?" I asked, attempting to think back to earlier dates where she might've seemed upset or lost. My thoughts betrayed me only going in circles never finding a conclusion.

"A while, but unlike you... I can handle it." Phyora remarked beginning to stand up, she took some deep breaths and began to wipe away her tears from her face. I began to take a step back, unsure of how to feel about what she just said, for a moment I hated her but slowly came to realise that this was who she was.

"I know I can't convince you to lean on me for help every now and then, but I owe you Phyora. You helped stop me from falling into that pit, you gave me a rope to help me climb out. So please, let me be the same for you." I said, a sense of desperate loyalty and conviction sounding through my words, for once I wouldn't allow something I was capable of helping go un-helped.

"There's nothing for you to do, Stavn. I, myself must handle this alone." As she spoke those words, I could feel a distance form between us, she wasn't trying to be cruel but she couldn't understand how much I looked to her for guidance. Just how much she meant to me.

"I'll be around then, if you ever need anything. Just say." I said as I began to leave the room once again, full well understanding the burden she had placed on herself. Something in her past must've formed her to be like this, a person who was as cold as ice when it came to speaking about themselves. The burden of being the hardened soldier, the burden of her loss and the burden of having to be an older sibling to strangers.