Chapter 11: Sirenia's Return
THREE WEEKS LATER - FIRST RETURN
Hexia stood in his training yard, moving through the advanced forms his father had taught him years ago. The morning sun cast long shadows across the packed earth, and the village was just beginning to stir.
He'd been thinking about her. More than he wanted to admit. More than was safe.
Sirenia's words echoed in his mind during quiet moments: "I'm not giving up on you. Even if you've given up on yourself."
The sound of approaching footsteps broke his concentration. He turned, sword lowering.
Silver hair caught the morning light. Blue eyes found his across the distance.
She'd come back. Just like she promised.
Sirenia stood at the fence, travel-worn but smiling.
"I told you I'd return."
Hexia's chest tightened. That crack in the ice widened another fraction. "You did."
"May I watch?"
He should say no. Should maintain distance. Should protect himself from this dangerous warmth spreading through him.
"Yes."
The word escaped before he could stop it.
Sirenia's smile brightened. She settled against the fence, and Hexia resumed his training. But something had changed. His movements were sharper. More focused. Like he was showing off without meaning to.
Marie watched from the kitchen window, tears of hope in her eyes. "She came back."
Jerkin appeared beside her. "And he let her stay."
"Do you think...?"
"I think our son is terrified. But I also think he wants this. Even if he won't admit it yet."
After training, Hexia approached the fence. Closer than before. Close enough that Sirenia could see the uncertainty in his crimson eyes.
"How long are you staying?"
"Three days this time. We're escorting another merchant caravan. But I'll be back in two weeks."
"You don't have to keep coming back."
"I know. But I want to." She held his gaze. "Unless you want me to stop?"
He should say yes. Should cut this off before it went further. Before she got hurt or he got hurt or they both got hurt.
"No. It's fine."
The admission cost him something. Sirenia saw it in the tension of his shoulders, the way his hands clenched briefly before relaxing.
"Then I won't."
SIX WEEKS LATER - THIRD VISIT
Sirenia had kept her word. Every two to three weeks, her party's route brought them through Korn Village. Sometimes for three days. Once for a full week. Each visit, she spent hours at Hexia's fence. Watching. Talking when he allowed it.
Slowly, patiently chipping away at his walls.
And slowly—very slowly—Hexia began to open up.
This visit, he'd actually invited her into the training yard. Not just watching from the fence. Present. Participating.
"Show me that combination again," Sirenia asked. "The one that transitions from guard to strike."
Hexia demonstrated, his movements fluid. "The key is weight distribution. If your stance is wrong, the strike loses power."
"Like this?" She mimicked his form, mostly correct but slightly off-balance.
He hesitated, then stepped closer. "May I?"
She nodded.
His hands touched her shoulders, adjusting her stance. Then her hips, correcting her center of gravity. Professional. Clinical. But Sirenia felt electricity at every point of contact.
"There. Now try."
She struck, and the form flowed perfectly.
"Better?"
"Much." Was that pride in his voice? "You learn quickly."
"I have a good teacher."
Something flickered across his face. Almost a smile. Gone too fast to be certain. But Sirenia saw it.
Progress.
That evening, they sat in his yard under the stars. A routine that had developed over the weeks. Comfortable silence punctuated by conversation.
"Can I ask you something personal?" Sirenia's voice was quiet.
"You can ask. I may not answer."
"Fair enough." She paused, gathering courage. "What happened to you? What made you... like this?"
Hexia was silent for so long she thought he wouldn't respond. When he spoke, his voice was distant. Empty.
"I loved someone once. A childhood friend. We trained together. Grew up together. I thought..." He stopped. Started again. "Someone else saw what I felt. Manipulated the situation. Positioned himself between us. Made me doubt myself. Made her need him. By the time I realized what was happening, it was too late."
Sirenia's chest ached. "She chose him."
"She chose him. And I let her go. Told myself it was the right thing to do. That if she was happy, that's all that mattered." His hands clenched. "But it broke something inside me. Made me realize that caring about people, letting them in—it only leads to pain. So I stopped. Stopped caring. Stopped feeling. Built walls so high nothing could reach me."
"And now?"
"Now I'm safe. Empty, but safe."
"That's not living. That's just existing."
"I know." He looked at her, and for the first time, she saw real emotion in his eyes. Fear. "But existing doesn't hurt. And I'm tired of hurting."
Sirenia reached out slowly, giving him time to pull away. When he didn't, she placed her hand over his.
"I know you're scared. I know opening up again feels impossible. But Hexia—you're already hurting. The emptiness is just a different kind of pain. One that never heals because you won't let it."
He stared at their joined hands. Didn't pull away. "What if I let someone in and it breaks me again? What if I'm not strong enough?"
"Then I'll help put you back together. As many times as it takes."
"Why? Why do you care so much?"
She squeezed his hand. "Because I see you. Not the Swordsman of Rolling Heads. Not the empty weapon. I see the person underneath. The one who's drowning and pretending he's fine. And I'm not going to let you drown alone."
Hexia's throat tightened. When was the last time someone had seen him? Really seen him? Not his power. Not his usefulness. Him.
He didn't know how to respond. Didn't have words for what he was feeling.
So he just sat there, hand in hers, and let himself feel it. The warmth. The connection. The terrifying possibility that maybe, just maybe, he could be more than empty.
THREE MONTHS LATER - EIGHTH VISIT
The transformation was subtle but undeniable. Hexia smiled more now. Not often, but when Sirenia said something that caught him off guard, his lips would twitch. Sometimes even curve into something resembling genuine amusement.
He talked more too. About his training. About his parents. Small things. Safe things. But conversation nonetheless.
And he'd started teaching her properly. Not just demonstrating forms, but actually instructing. Correcting her stance. Explaining techniques.
Sharing the knowledge his father had given him.
Today, they sparred with practice swords.
Sirenia attacked, her form much improved from three months ago. Hexia parried easily, but he wasn't just defending. He was teaching through movement.
"Your guard drops when you strike high. See?" He demonstrated, his practice sword tapping her exposed side. "An opponent would exploit that."
She adjusted, tried again. Better, but still flawed.
"Like this." He moved behind her, his body pressed against her back, his arms guiding hers through the proper form. "Feel the difference?"
Sirenia could barely breathe, let alone feel anything except his proximity. "Y-yes. Much better."
He stepped back, oblivious to her reaction.
"Practice that combination fifty times before tomorrow."
"Slave driver."
Was that a smile? An actual, genuine smile? Brief but real.
"You want to improve or not?"
"I do. I just didn't realize improvement required torture."
"That's not torture. That's discipline."
"Says the man who trains four hours every morning."
"Five."
"That's worse!"
He actually laughed. Quiet. Brief. But undeniably a laugh.
Sirenia froze, her heart skipping. That sound. That beautiful, unexpected sound. The first real laughter she'd heard from him.
Hexia noticed her expression. "What?"
"You laughed."
"I... did I?" Confusion crossed his face, like he hadn't realized.
"You did. And it was wonderful."
His face reddened. He turned away, suddenly very interested in adjusting his practice sword. "We should continue training."
"Hexia."
"What?"
"It's okay to be happy. It's okay to laugh. You're allowed to feel good things."
He didn't respond. But his shoulders relaxed slightly. And when they resumed sparring, there was something lighter in his movements. Something that might have been joy.
That evening, Marie pulled Sirenia aside while Hexia was cleaning up.
"Thank you."
Sirenia blinked. "For what?"
"For giving me my son back. He laughed today. I heard it from inside. Do you know how long it's been since I heard him laugh?" Tears welled in Marie's eyes.
"Years. It's been years. And today, because of you, I heard joy in his voice."
"I'm not doing anything special. Just being here."
"That's everything. Being here. Coming back. Refusing to give up on him when he'd given up on himself." Marie grasped Sirenia's hands.
"Whatever happens between you two—whether it becomes romance or just friendship—thank you. Thank you for reminding him he's allowed to be human."
Sirenia squeezed back. "He makes it easy. Beneath all that emptiness, there's someone worth knowing. Worth caring about. I just had to be patient enough to find him."
"Have you told him how you feel?"
"Not yet. He's not ready. I can see it in his eyes—he's terrified of letting anyone in completely. So I'm waiting. Being present. Showing him through actions instead of words."
"You're wise beyond your years."
"Not wise. Just stubborn." Sirenia smiled. "And determined. Very, very determined."
FIVE MONTHS LATER - FIFTEENTH VISIT
The change in Hexia was profound. Not dramatic—he wasn't suddenly cheerful or open. But the emptiness had receded. There was light behind his eyes now. Warmth in his rare smiles. Presence in his interactions.
He engaged with villagers instead of just tolerating them. Asked about their lives. Showed genuine interest. Helped with tasks beyond just killing bandits.
He talked with his parents at dinner instead of eating in silence. Shared stories. Listened to theirs.
Connected in ways he hadn't since childhood.
And with Sirenia, he was almost relaxed. The walls were still there—he was too damaged for them to disappear completely. But they had doors now. Windows. Ways in.
They sat in his yard as the sun set, a routine so established it felt natural. Comfortable.
"I've been thinking," Hexia said quietly.
"Dangerous activity."
He smiled slightly. "About what you said. Months ago. About how I'm already hurting. How the emptiness is just a different kind of pain."
"And?"
"You were right. I thought I was protecting myself by not feeling. But I was just... slowly dying. Becoming less human every day." He looked at her.
"Until you showed up. Stubborn and persistent and refusing to let me disappear into the void."
Sirenia's breath caught. "Hexia..."
"I'm not fixed. I'm still broken in ways I don't know how to repair. Still have moments where the emptiness comes back and I can't feel anything. Still struggle with letting people in."
"I know."
"But I want to try. Want to keep trying. Because these past six months—spending time with you, training with you, just existing near you—they've been good. Better than good. And I forgot what good felt like."
He reached out, hesitant, and took her hand.
"So thank you. For not giving up. For being patient. For caring when I couldn't care about myself."
Sirenia's vision blurred with tears. "You're welcome. And Hexia? You're not as broken as you think. You're just healing. And healing takes time."
"Will you keep coming back? Keep helping me heal?"
"As long as you want me to."
"What if that's a very long time?"
She squeezed his hand. "Then I guess I'll be visiting Korn Village for a very long time."
They sat in comfortable silence as stars emerged overhead. Hands joined. Hearts slowly, carefully opening to possibility.
Hexia looked at the sky and thought about the future. About what it might hold. About whether he was brave enough to want things again.
And for the first time in years, the answer felt like it might be yes.
SIX MONTHS LATER - PRESENT DAY
Sirenia's current visit was in its third day. Tomorrow, she'd leave again. But the pattern was established. The connection solid. Whatever this was between them—friendship, something more, something undefined—it was real.
They sparred in the morning. Her skills had improved dramatically under his tutelage. She still couldn't match him, but she could hold her own against most C-rank swordsmen now.
"Better," Hexia said as she completed a complex combination. "Your footwork has improved."
"I had a good teacher." She lowered her practice sword. "And six months of motivation."
"What motivation?"
She grinned. "Trying to keep up with you."
He actually blushed. After six months, he still blushed when she said things like that. It was endearing.
"You don't need to keep up with me."
"Maybe not. But I want to." She stepped closer. "Want to be someone who can stand beside you. Not behind, not in front. Beside."
Hexia looked at her, and something shifted in his expression. Understanding. Realization. The walls came down another fraction.
"Sirenia, I—"
A villager came running, interrupting. "Hexia! Monsters goblins riding dire wolves a horde of them on the south road! Attacking a caravan!"
The warmth in Hexia's eyes vanished, replaced by cold focus. "How many?"
"Fourty, maybe more! They have adventurers with them! And—" The villager hesitated. "The caravan. It's from Briarkeep. And one of the adventurers... they said her name is Lhoralaine."
Hexia froze. Completely. Every muscle tensing.
Sirenia watched the change. Watched him shut down. The walls slamming back up. The emptiness flooding back into his eyes.
"Hexia?" She touched his arm. "Who's Lhoralaine?"
He didn't answer. Just grabbed his real sword and started toward the road.
Sirenia followed, her heart pounding. Because she knew that name. Knew what it meant.
The childhood friend. The girl he'd loved. The one who'd chosen someone else and broken him.
She was here.
And everything was about to become infinitely more complicated.
To be continued...