Chapter 20: Smoking Ash

                                    

                                          
May 2016.
Kyna ripped the paper from the cork board outside the small convenience store just around the corner from her apartment. It was May, but of an entirely different year. Roughly just over a year had passed since her disappearance. She couldn't believe so much time had gone by, and she stared down at the date on the paper in her hands. After a long moment, she continued to walk, crumpling the paper up and tossing it into a recycling container at an intersection.
Looking up, she gazed at what used to be her home. The apartment building where she lived hadn't changed at all, save for the change in seasons and the cars parked out front. Would her apartment even still be her own, or would they have cleared out her belongings at this point? There was a good chance many thought she was missing or dead after vanishing from the accident that totaled her car. Would they have even kept looking for her after a year?
Kyna approached her apartment door. It was one of many that lined the outer wall of the single level complex. It shone with a fresh coat of yellow paint, and as she raised her key to the lock, she noticed a small plaque sitting just above the doorknob.
The Robinsons.
She no longer lived here, but she slid the key into the lock anyway—may as well confirm it. As expected, it would not turn. They had changed the locks. Kyna sighed, tossing the keys into a nearby garbage can. She wouldn't need them now. 
One foot after another, she turned her back on the place she had called home for years. She wasn't sure where she was going to go, or how she was going to get there. All she had was her newly discovered bag—as strange as that was—and the clothes she was wearing when she crossed over. 
People paid her little attention, despite the strangeness of her clothes. The sun had already set, and it was a Friday night. She thought perhaps she resembled an actress from one of the local theatres putting on a weekend production, or even participant of a reenactment festival. She rummaged through her sack and pulled out a hooded sweater she had packed the last night she worked. Throwing it over her shoulders to cover her upper body, she zipped it up and brought the hood over her head. It smelled of the body spray she wore that last fateful night. 
Displacement. 
Once again that was how she felt, wandering in a place that she wasn't supposed to be. She had done what was expected of her, what she needed to do to keep that other world, and herself, safe. Yet, somehow, even being back in the most familiar place, she felt foreign and alone. With no destination, she simply walked. 
She ended up at the only place she truly felt connected to at this point—an anchor to all of this. Nothing had changed from the time she had left the spot of her return a few hours ago, except the sun had fallen well below the towering mountains, casting the area in dim light. Kyna headed down towards the embankment on the side of the road, slipping unseen into the forested area beyond the street. It was much darker under the cover of trees, and she was thankful that the batteries in the small flashlight she kept in her bag still worked. 
Living in northern British Columbia, most people carried a few essentials with them like flashlights, lighters, and bear spray. You never quite knew what you'd be up against. It still amazed Kyna that she had been reunited with her bag. Had it been sitting on the side of the road for two years, or had it somehow appeared when the portal opened? She didn't know the answer. Her recent experiences had proved that anything was possible, and she didn't question it. Instead, she was grateful she had at least some belongings and a light to show the way in the darkness ahead of her.
Kyna wandered through the wooded area, navigating the foliage and stray branches that popped up in her face. The night brought with it a cool breeze, helping to keep the tears that grew in her eyes at bay. The forest smelled strange to her after so much time in the woods of Daerlyre. It was just different, as though she could smell the lack of magic and wonder. 
Kyna didn't exactly know what she was looking for. She hoped that just maybe, she wasn't meant to come back, that for some reason she could return to Daerlyre—to Einar. She stopped in front of a small stream and sat by its edge, closing her eyes and allowing the sound of the bubbling water to comfort the hole that had seared her heart. 
His touch was still so very real on her skin, his kiss so tangible on her lips, as though he was still there with her. The tears flowed freely once again, this time unleashed with no constraint. Kyna slipped her hands into her bag and pulled out the old well-loved book, clutching it tightly to her chest as violent sobs shuddered through her body.
When she opened her eyes, she viewed the cover of the book through blurred vision. Something that had given her so much comfort throughout her life stared back at her, now only representing torment. Kyna could not bear to open the cover and read those words. To her, they weren't just characters in a book anymore; they had become so much more. The story only represented pain to her.
A determined expression crossed Kyna's features, the pain morphing from agony into anger. Before she knew what was happening, the lighter from her bag was resting in her palm, and she moved it around with her fingers, watching it with narrowed eyes. She flicked it once, and the flame lit up out of the silver casing. When she flicked it a second time, she held it open, watching as the small flame flickered erratically in the breeze. 
If the book represented her pain and torment, the flame represented her salvation, her freedom from it. 
Kyna brought the lighter towards the edge of the book, hesitating as the light from the flame reflected off the paper of the pages. She inhaled deeply, her expression becoming resolute as she brought the spark to the book.
The flames licked at the paper slowly at first, then increasing in hunger as they devoured the pages, leaving only black ash in their wake as they moved up the volume. Kyna held the book as long as it was possible, keeping her eyes trained on the cover as the flames ate away the title and with it, hopefully some of her memories of the time spent there. The tears came harder now as the book became too hot to handle, and she dropped it to the ground, watching it transform into a pile of black soot.
Her sadness choked her as she gazed down at its remains. Had she made a mistake?
No. If she was truly meant to move on, she had to let it go—let him go, as much as it made her want to lie down and stop existing.
As her eyes fluttered shut, she inhaled the smoke, allowing the scent of it to fill her lungs briefly.
A gust of wind struck her face with significant power, causing her eyes to flicker open in surprise. She watched with wonder as the wind picked up the ash from the book that lay on the forest floor and carried it into the air before her. It played with the small flecks of blackness as the smoke slowly dissipated, swirling them around her mischievously. Confusion washed over Kyna's face as she raised her hand to the swirling designs, her brow furrowing deeply. Then something incredible happened.
They connected together, materializing into a black mass before her. It fluttered and waved like a black flag before becoming transparent, distorting the surrounding woods, making their vibrancy dull and distant. The strange energy encircled her, sealing her off from her surroundings. The forest of Prince George flickered, slowly transforming into vague shapes and colours that swirled in her vision, striking her senses with intense vertigo. She felt weightless as the awareness of her body vanished, and she simply existed amidst the strange swirling mosaic. Time seemed to halt, leaving her in a strange silence for many moments before something caused her heart to leap.
Kyna recognized the smell, and it was not the wooded area near Prince George.
~~~
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