Page 143 of To Fight and To Fold

Aaryn shook it from her mind and continued walking with Thea, Starspark, as always, at her side.

"This seems like an absolutely terrible time to ask, but if anything, I've learned there might never be a good time."

"Thea," Aaryn teased. "It's a little soon for a proposal."

Thea groaned and shoved Aaryn playfully, both relieved by the brief distraction. "The bonfire is in a few days. Will you go with me?"

Aaryn saw the possibilities, Thea's cheeks flush from drink and the warmth of the fire and the heat between them…

"Of course," she answered, because there was no other answer.

A celebration of sorts, days before one of their own was to be rescued from his death.

Aaryn tried to pretend it didn't feel like a goodbye.

She clung tighter to Thea's hand anyway.

The feeling persisted. As if something was… as if Aaryn was awaiting something.

She was so, so very tired of waiting. A child, waiting for her father to care for her. A lady, waiting for the lottery to save her. A Tethered, waiting for the prince to loosen her leash. And now, here she was… what? Not a Tethered. Not a druid. Not an Awakened.

And she was still waiting.

But for what, she didn't know. She just knew her chest felt heavy—different than the fullness that occupied it when she was around Thea.

Which wasn't often in the following days as Thea prepared for the rescue, meeting with those tasked with Rolim's survival.

Aaryn focused on training with Starspark under the tutelage of another Awakened, one who told her lightly of Carissa. Nothing more than "She's lucid now."

It wasn't until the day of the bonfire that Aaryn was able to see Carissa on her own, but not like a patient in the healer's tent, or even recovering in her own home. Surprisingly, Aaryn came across her in the fields of the Dragons’ Nest with Stormstrike.

Her face was rosy with sunlight and she smiled at Aaryn when their gazes caught. As they drifted together, Aaryn studied her with a curious eye. Her peachy hair was tied back sharply, freckles on full display, eyes a little tired, but other than that…

"Carissa, you're… alright!" Aaryn greeted, albeit a little awkwardly. "I wasn't given the clear to come see you. I wasn't certain…"

Aaryn had half a mind to throw her arms around Carissa, but the woman crossed her arms and leaned into her dragon. "I'm fine. I'm mostly embarrassed," she admitted quietly. "I heard about Rolim and I just—I don't know what came over me, honestly. I was—" She bit down on the uncertain words and shrugged.

"Tired of feeling powerless?" Aaryn guessed.

"Yes!" Carissa hissed.

They were quiet in the sameness for a moment, the weight of the conversation growing heavy.

"You should let Thea help you awaken yours," Carissa said.

Aaryn glanced over, cheeks flushing. She'd already imagined the glow of the flowers, the nervousness beneath her skin, the itch of magic, and… Thea, there to relieve it.

The dragon pin still hung from her shirt, and Aaryn took care with placing it each day. Thea's lie didn't bother her nearly as much as her new charming inability to lie to Aaryn. Just the thought of Thea's panicked confession made her smile, before the reality of the situation reminded her it wasn't a humorous moment at all.

Aaryn couldn't help but feel responsible for exacerbating the prince's frustrations at the very least. If she'd never left Evergale, none of this ever would have happened.

Thea said she couldn't blame herself for another person's actions. Thea was logical like that, one of the many things Aaryn admired about her.

"It hurt," Carissa admitted, pulling Aaryn from her thoughts, holding her palm between them—already healed, Aaryn noted. Through the Evergalian crest on her hand was a mottled strike, the skin torn raggedly and patched back together with magic. "Not just the physical part of it, but my… soul. As if part of it had been locked away for so long and was finally free. As if I couldn't breathe my whole life, but hadn't even known until I took the first breath."

"Overwhelming?" Aaryn asked.

Aaryn held her own palm between them, the brand no longer a sense of pride but a mark of embarrassment. She hated the sight of it, the lines so perfectly crisp and whole, and curled her fingers over it as Carissa agreed. "Yes. The other Awakened said it wasn't supposed to be so explosive," Carissa murmured. "That if done right, it would be like slipping into a pool of warm water. You should do it the right way. Not alone, like me."