Standing Steady in the Storms: Ch. 7

The Pain of Knowing (Or Rather, Not Knowing)

His hearing came back first. Janner thought he heard the sound of waves crashing against a sandy shore and sliding back out to sea and some sort of high-pitched insects chirping loudly and hurting his head. But that doesn't make any sense, Janner thought, his something drilling into his skull at the very suggestion of thinking. I'm in Castle Rysen in our room. Everything is as it usually is. And why does my head hurt?

Janner turned his head to the side and groaned in pain. Where exactly was the pain coming from? Wait, my head, right?

"Janner?" A worry-filled voice came from somewhere to his left.

Janner slitted his eyes to see who had spoken, but promptly shut them again at the blinding glare that assaulted them and sent stabs of agony through his skull.

"Janner?" The voice repeated, closer this time. “Janner, can you hear me?”

“Kal?” Janner asked warily, not sure if he was really hearing his brother or if it was just a dream. The voice bounced off every wall on the inside of his brain — Brains have walls? He thought — and echoed endlessly on every side. His voice sounded strange, too. Rapsy and broken. 

“Thank the Maker,” Kal breathed. Janner felt his brother’s arm on his shoulder. “Janner can you open your eyes?”

Janner started to laugh but it ended in a harsh cough. He winced at the burning in his lungs and throat. “I’d rather not. The sun’s trying to blind me.”

Janner expected to hear his brother’s laughter at the words or some silly comment, but it never came. “What’s wrong? What is it?” Janner asked, sitting up abruptly and regretting it the second he did so. His head spun and throbbed violently. His stomach lurched, and Janner put out his left hand blindly so he could empty his stomach. No sooner had his palm made contact with something grainy, a burning sensation shot up his arm and he quickly jerked it away. Janner felt himself pitch forward, but then Kal’s strong arms caught him and lowered him back to the sand gently.

“Easy,” Kal whispered.

After Janner had lain there for several minutes, focusing on breathing and waiting for his stomach to quiet and his hands to cool and his head to stop pounding — though his hands and head continued to hurt, even after keeping still — he cracked open his eyes again. The glare was just as terrible as before. Janner moved his arm so he could rest his hand against his forehead, shielding his eyes from the light, but his muscles ached with every movement. 

“Why do I hurt everywhere?” He finally asked, growing tired of trying to figure out the answer himself.

“I’ll tell you later. Just sleep for now.” Kal said in a tone that meant he was avoiding the real answer.

“Why?” Janner blinked at him. “I’m pretty sure I’ve been sleeping, and it’s the middle of the day.”

There was silence for a few moments. “Janner,” Kal said quietly, fear on the edge of his voice. “You haven’t been sleeping. You’ve been unconscious for hours. And the sun is setting right now. It’s nowhere near midday.”

Janner didn’t say anything for a while. Neither did Kal. “Why was I unconscious?” Janner asked his brother.

Kal was moving his arm like he was drawing something on the floor, but Janner couldn't make out more than that. “You hit your head on a rock. Really, really hard.”

“How, fencing practice?”

“No,” Kal’s voice cracked and Janner thought he saw him brushing a tear away. “We were swept off deck in the middle of a storm.” 

He looked at Janner. Janner stared back at him, trying to read what was in his little brother’s eyes. As much as he wanted to, his head screamed in agony and he felt his eyelids drifting closed of their own accord. “How would that happen during fencing?” Janner murmured sleepily as the sounds began to fade away.

“Sleep, Janner. I’m watching over you,” were the last words Janner heard before slipping back into the painless darkness.

*****

Kalmar watched as Janner fell asleep again. As his gaze drifted from his brother’s shredded fingers and palms to the ugly bruises on his arms and legs and the bloodied gash stretching from just above his left ear to the middle of his forehead, Kal shuddered and felt fear gnawing at his stomach. 

He stood up — only partially, the overhang was too low for him to raise to his full height — and shuffled out of the shallow cave into the less-stifling evening air. Kal looked out at the white beach before him that slowly turned into a tropical forest further inland. He walked a few paces and sat down, hugging his legs close to his body. 

Kal was staring out into the ocean, the setting sun behind him. He knew that somewhere in the distance, the Shining Isle of Anniera gleamed and sparkled in the late-day light, even as the occupants of Castle Rysen paced the halls in franticness. 

And why shouldn’t they? Their current King, future Queen, Throne Warden, and adored Queen Sara — as all her once-orphans and their families still called her — were missing. No one knew where they were or where they had been going. It wasn’t as though Kal had had a destination in mind when they set out. He had only wanted to give Galya the perfect proposal.

"Oh, Galya," he whispered, a few tears rolling slowly down his cheeks. Kal closed his eyes and pictured her. Her lovely green eyes sparkling in the sunlight, her curly, auburn hair that turned the color of fire in the sunlight, her gentle smile, and soft, laughing face that glowed with beauty. It was hard to believe she had once been a Fang. Kalmar had thought her beautiful when he first saw her, seven years earlier. Though all the people had met his eyes, only hers held fast. He has seen love and dedication in them even then, and he knew her steadfastness had only grown over the years.

Kal smiled as he thought of the time they had spent together in Anniera's gardens, sketching the land that lay before them. They shared something that Kal had never perfectly explained to anyone else, and that was the pain they had felt after singing the Song and the grief they endured afterward. Their lives had been changed and fully liberated on the same day, and their common ground drew them closer than they would have otherwise been. 

Now she was gone. Had she died, all because he wanted to propose to her in the sweetest way possible? What if she he never saw her again? She would have died not knowing the truth.

And of course, Kal hadn't just caused what could have been her death but Sara and her baby's as well. What if Galya and his brother's wife and unborn child we all dead because of him? 

What would Janner do when he realized it? Would he refuse to listen? Would he shatter into a million pieces? Would he vow to hate him for the rest of their lives? 

The last one was unlikely. At least, Kal hoped it was. He shook his head. It didn’t matter. What did matter was that for now, he was on his own. There was no one to help him, support him, or tell him what to do. 

Years ago, when he had first learned that he was the High King of Anniera, Kalmar had relished the time when he was independent without someone breathing down his neck and instructing him on how to live his life. Now, though, he missed it. All he wanted was for Janner to wake up and remember everything perfectly and start telling him how to get off the island they were stuck on and tell him how to bandage and clean a head wound properly, because Kal didn’t know the first thing about it. 

Kalmar buried his face in his hands. He was floundering. He was entirely out of his depth — Kal laughed mirthlessly at the thought, considering what their circumstances had been the evening before — and had no idea what to do. 

“Maker, please help me,” he said aloud, looking up at the sky that was quickly filling with stars. Then he looked down at the sand again and began walking along the beach, following the gentle waves that came up to the shoreline, soaking the sand and then receding. Kal watched them. They went in and out, in and out, and then in and out. Over and over and over again. They were consistent and they never missed an in or out. They didn’t go out and out or in and in. They were always there, one following the other.

That was how it was with Kal and Janner. Kal was always the one jumping in to do things first — wreckless ventures most of the time — and Janner always followed to keep him out of trouble. 

And the one time Janner does something first, Kal thought. This is what happens. Clearly, something about it was not meant-to-be.

Janner had been swept off the Shining Beauty before him, and even as Kalmar had screamed his name — only for the words to be snatched away by the roaring waves, wind, and rain — the same wave that yanked Janner away from the ratlines and thrust Kal into the sea as well. After a while, the waves had carried him to shore and onto the beach, coughing and sputtering. 

He had stayed like that for a few minutes, propping himself up with his arms and retching saltwater from his stomach. When he was finally done, Kal had looked up and glanced to his right. There was something on the beach, something oddly human shaped.  

Kalmar had scrambled up from his spot on the beach and stumbled toward it. He realized it was Janner — on his right-hand side as always — and had fallen to his knees at his brother’s side. Janner had lain face down in the sand, unmoving. Kal had turned him over so that Janner lay on his back. It had been dark by then, and he couldn’t see anything, so Kalmar had dragged his brother over to the low overhang that he could just barely make out by the light of the moon. 

They had stayed there that night, Kal cold and wet and shivering and looking at Janner with worry when he didn’t wake up for hours. 

In the morning, Kal had seen the wound and stared at it, panicking. He had washed the dried blood from Janner’s face as best he could and sat in the shallow cave, staring at his brother, wondering how they would get home, where Galya and Sara were, and what he could do if Janner never woke up.

Then he had, and Kalmar had nearly wept in relief. 

But Janner couldn’t seem to remember any of what had happened, and that scared Kal. It scared him so much that he felt strangely thankful when Janner had fallen asleep again, so glad was he that he didn’t have to answer the questions that he was afraid to answer. 

“Where are Sara and Galya?” Janner would ask when he was lucid enough to remember. Actually, he would probably start off asking about Sara and the baby. Kal wouldn’t have an answer for that one. He was terrified of answering that question, because he had no idea how Janner would react when he learned that his wife and unborn child were missing and quite possibly….

Kal swallowed. He wouldn’t allow his mind to go there. He wouldn’t allow himself to think that Galya and Sara and the baby were gone for good. He couldn't. If he did, he knew he would never be able to live with himself. Kalmar struggled to push the thoughts from his mind. But they kept coming back. They kept flying into his head to haunt him. "Maker, let it stop," he whispered, holding his head in his hands. 

After a while, his mind settled. Kal felt an aching peace in his heart, once that comforted him even as it pained him. He prayed that someday, somehow, it would go away.

Notes: Poor Kal. If only he knew 😞