Page 185 of Starside

For nearly an entire day, he doesn’t talk to me. He doesn’t even look at me. It’s like I’m invisible. Or disgusting.

Am I that strange? That repulsive? I haven’t seen many people shirtless, but my markings don’t seem that noticeable. Or maybe they are.

We reach a long field with grass that shines and curls like ribbon. It’s beautiful.

I can hardly notice that beauty. Inside, my emotions are battling. We’ve been through countless obstacles together. Traveled side-by-side for weeks. After all the stones taken down from this wall between us, I refuse to let it build up again.

I stop walking. Raker keeps going. Of fucking course he does.

“If you’re going to kill me, just do it already.”

I unsheathe my blade. I stand my ground.

At that, he pauses. His shoulders stiffen.

“Kill you?” he says from up ahead.

“Kill me,” I say. “Or capture me. Or whatever else the king does with the silver he collects.”

He still has his back to me. His voice is a snarl. “You think I would hand you over to the king?”

I keep my hands tight on my blade, knowing his metal could be against mine in a flash. “You serve him.”

“I serve no one,” he spits.

I scoff. “That’s very interesting, considering you’re literally the head of his guard.”

He doesn’t say a word.

So, I keep speaking. “I heard you talking to him, promising to bring something back. What is it? The magic? Is that why you’re on this quest? For him?”

Raker makes a derisive noise. “I’m not on the Questral for anyone but myself.” I remain rooted in place. Blade up.

“So, if you’re not going to kill me … why … why won’t you look at me?” I take a shaking breath.

And I feel stupid for even saying the words. But I can’t stay silent.

Once his apathy was expected, but now … after everything … it feels like a betrayal. It hurts, and I know that rudeness and cruelty is all I should expect from Raker, but damn it, it feels like the least he can give me is his respect.

“I’ve been ashamed of my markings since the moment I got them,” I say. “You don’t—you don’t have to make it worse.” My voice cracks, and I fucking hate it, but I keep going. “You might find me ugly, and that’s fine. I don’t care. But you … you are the only person alive who has seen them, and you, of all people, should know what it’s like to keep yourself hidden. To show yourself. And … and then to be shunned …”

I hate that my eyes are stinging. I hate that I’m speaking at all, that I think he even cares.

“You say I don’t know you, and you’re right. Because you haven’t told me anything. All I know is you’re a warrior who grew up near the sea, and once had siblings. All I know is you hide your face, and you hate mercy, and you wield a blade better than probably any human in history. Now you know one of the worst moments of my life. You know my greatest secret. I have laid myself bare to you, and you … you might as well be a stranger, Raker. I guess you’re just a knight … and I’m silver. We were always meant to be enemies. Stupid of me to think any different.”

He tenses, but he doesn’t turn around. I stand there, regretting ever opening my mouth. Ever caring. I look at the ground.

Then he speaks.

“There is nothing to know about me,” he says. “Nothing I can give you. Nothing I can offer. I am nothing but rage and vengeance, Aris. Nothing but countless kills on a blade. There is no home. No family. Nothing to look forward to. Nothing to covet. Don’t waste your time trying to figure out a person that doesn’t exist. I am nothing beyond this.”

I swallow. “I—”

He keeps walking. He doesn’t look back.

I remain in place, watching him, the broken pieces coming together. The shards of his life. The way someone turns into Harlan Raker.

He has nothing and no one, just like me.