half a steel blade.

Ileane is half a steel blade and half the rising sun and Batai does not believe that Azim truly walks the earth as a Xaela forever seeking his earthly Nhaama as the storytellers say, as the Oronir believe, but he remembers Magnai’s words: “That one day I shall look in the eyes of a woman and see there the moon of my life and I will know she is my fated partner” and he thinks immediately of Ileane and the sheen of her eyes.

She  is gone, of course, on a job or in the vales of Yanxia, but the memory  of her lingers besides him in the place she might have occupied. Batai is not Azim and Ileane is not his Nhaama; he has no desire to chase her through the sky and earth. If anything at all, Ileane is an eagle, fierce and proud, and beautiful too, but dangerous and independent.  Even as Magnai calls him a fool for waiting for things to fall into his lap. But Batai remembers the words of his uncle whose eagle sat tall and still at his side: An eagle is only ever yours if they return to you untethered and uncoerced.

And he also remembers -

She presses a kiss to his lips, fingers clenched around his collar, teeth against his lips, and he tries not to think of war, of violence, of battle, of another man’s words against her mouth. He wants to kiss her gently, to press comfort to her knuckles, to kiss the callouses that stretch across her fingers. He wants to fold her into his arms and press promises to the side of her neck. He wants to press his fingers to the fragile hollow between her collarbones, to let her know he is close and he can hold her life in his hands and he will not hurt her. He will never hurt her. She is safe with him.

But Ileane is half a steel blade and half the rising sun and half hewn from stone and as the dust rises with the wind around them, Batai knows that it is another man’s name in her heart. He kisses her back hard, hands curled up under her jaw, almost clawing, teeth raking against her lip. Even if he can’t have those things, even if she kisses him like she’s going to battle, even if she leaves again and again and again -

At least it’ll be his blood in her mouth.