Hope Sundered

“Guess what I did today,” Lark told Tanni when she came to his table with his first cider of the night.

“I can’t wait to hear!” she replied. Her expression brightened even more.

Lark grinned and puffed his chest out. “I painted my arrows white!”

Tanni maintained her smile, but her eyes betrayed her confusion. “Great!” she said at last.

“Instead of shooting down at my target, I’m going to shoot up, into the sky. The enemy won’t be able to see the arrow—until it’s too late!”

“Oh, I see!” she exclaimed, smiling and nodding. “That’s very clever!”

He tried to swallow his grin as his cheeks grew red again. He didn’t know why she had this effect on him; she wasn’t the first maiden to compliment him.

“So, how many of those vile invaders have you killed so far with your invisible arrows?” she asked, leaning forward.

“None yet,” he admitted. “I’m saving them all for their leader. Killing him is all that matters. If he dies, the rest of his army will lose confidence and retreat. That’s the theory anyway. He’s the most important target regardless, and I need to keep my arrows a surprise, or he won’t venture close enough to be within range.”

“That makes sense,” she said. “Well, I do hope you get the chance to take your shot. Please let me know if you do.”

“You’ll be the first!” he replied. She blushed and smiled before turning to tend other patrons. He watched her golden hair dance in her wake, awestruck. What was he doing?

Lark loved Keila for as long as he could remember. He’d never considered a future without her, but now the thought of being alone with only bittersweet memories to haunt him was beyond unbearable.

A part of him felt guilty for wanting to move on, but that was natural, wasn’t it? He’d never forget Keila, but did honoring her memory mean he should remain celibate? Isn’t this what Losi meant about letting go?

On the one hand it felt too soon to consider another, but for all he knew he’d be dead in a month, maybe less. Did he not have the right to one small flower of happiness amid the desolate landscape of hopelessness?

Tanni came by a moment later to refill his mug. This time, however, Lark held a protective hand over his mug. “One was enough tonight, thank you.”

She smiled and nodded. “Good for you,” she said softly, but with unmistakable admiration. She looked over her shoulder before leaning in and adding, “I can always arrange to leave early if you’d like to take that walk with me sometime. I’d be happy to show you the city. It’s beautiful at night, all lit up.”

Lark hesitated with his mouth agape. He stood at a crossroads with two choices, and while they didn’t appear to be wrong, neither felt right. Why was he so conflicted?

“I’m flattered, Tanni, truly. And you seem like a wonderful person but you see, the thing is, well, I’m just—”

Tanni giggled and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Peace, man; I’m not asking for your hand in marriage. It’s alright if you don’t want to join me. You always sit alone, and I just thought you could use a friend.”

Lark hung his head in defeat and chuckled his embarrassment away. “Friends. Of course. Well, in that case I accept the invitation to tour your fine city.”

Tanni’s expression was pure excitement. “Wonderful!”

Lark noticed an added bounce in her step as she danced between the crowded tables the rest of the evening. She wasn’t Keila. No one ever would be. No one ever could be.

But then again, perhaps she didn’t have to be.