“You’d be surprised…” I mutter, thinking of all the times lately that things haven’t gone the way I expected. “Wait, hold on a second. What exactly is your relation to Romy? She must trust you if she made you the Vice-Secthead.”
“Trust…that’s a word.” Elina’s voice is heavy. I get the feeling that their relationship is not simple. “This is the Rainstopper Sect. Everyone here knows Romy Rainstopper.”
“But Romy doesn’t trust everyone here. As a matter of fact, I always got the impression that she trusted almost nobody from the Rainstopper Sect.” I hone in, searching for Elina’s eyes. It’s difficult to read her mood without being able to see what’s behind the mask. “You must be special.”
“Hah…yes, I was…special.” Her laughter isn’t happy whatsoever. Completely empty of mirth, it mocks the very idea. “I think you’re the one who’s really special though. Last I checked, Romy-“ She pauses, choosing her words carefully, “The Secthead doesn’t have a child. You…don’t look like her. And even if I were to believe that she did, I know that she would never want her child to enter the Trials. So tell me, why should I help you?”
Someone’s changing the subject.
I find Elina’s blue eyes to be quite clear in this moment. The sunken darkness behind them is being penetrated by her intense gaze. Now it’s my turn to choose my words carefully.
“It’s my choice. I need to win the Trials for my own reasons. Even if you don’t want to help, I’ll do it anyways.” My words make her eyes tense up. Did I mess up? “But you stepped in for a reason out there. Tell me why you helped me, and I’ll tell you why I need to win the Trials.”
“Very well then.” The healer splays her hands out, palm up towards me. “To be honest, I knew you weren’t like her. But I also know that the Secthead adopted a child. I was curious so I watched you during the 2nd Trial. And I saw some interesting things.”
“Interesting things?” I’m not quite sure what she means.
“You might not be related to her. But you’re just like her in some ways.” Elina’s voice turns just a little bit less sad. As if the wan sun is peeking through the thick clouds. “I saw you holding back. You could have heavily injured the other candidates with that spell of yours. Why didn’t you?”
“If I killed them I would have been disqualified.” My answer makes her pause. It’s the truth but she doesn’t seem to realize I’m not being modest.
“Hmm…I don’t think so. You’re more like her than you think. The Secthead was similar.” Abruptly, the wall comes back up. Still though, I remember the fading warmth in her voice and I think something’s changed in Elina’s demeanor. She seems…taller.
“What do you know about Romy?”
“Nothing…and yet…everything…I suppose. More than you, anyway. Enough to know that she also was provoked by the Trials to do things she regretted. In the end, it was too late, even if she tried to stop. Are you going to make the same mistake?” Elina says and even my brain can’t make heads or tails of that statement in my sleepless state. Seeing my eyes blink blankly, the healer waves me off. “Go to sleep, Myrr. Your girlfriend is taking up the only bed so it’ll have to be the floor, but I doubt you’re going to notice the difference.”
“She’s not my…” I start to answer, but my body is already moving as if on its own to the ground. As I rest my head on my arms, there’s a gentle wind on my face and someone pushes a pillow under my neck. Already, I’m drifting away. But a thought comes to me as I lie there, dreaming.
She knows my name?
#
Sundered lives.
Bleeding bodies.
Ended tales.
A bloody battlefield greets my eyes. It’s one that I know well now, although it looks somewhat different from how I know it. The rocky pillars surrounding the white stone clearing of the plateau. It’s the top of the Cliffs of Sisyphus. Just like the Trial I just came from, children battle, wage war, and fight each other. But this…it’s not the same at all. For unlike my trials where none were killed, in this battlefield, there is no mercy. No leniency. No clemency. Death is…everywhere. Sown like seeds which grow nothing but more death. Abruptly, my vision shifts. I’m traversing the rocky pillars again, clambering my way to the top. A pounding rainstorm falls down, and each drop brings the taste of blood deeper into my mouth. I feel sick. Sick of killing. Even though I’m not a killer. But here I am. A girl appears in front of me. Pretty, blue eyes. She has a nice face that feels oddly familiar. Her hand reaches out to me, but I hear a voice behind me.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
All you need remember is...kill.
Do it to save her.
Do it to save yourself.
My knife comes out. Or perhaps it is a short sword. I shudder, something’s wrong with the way the girl is moving. Her eyes are changing color. Changing shape. She’s shrinking. The hair becomes flaming orange. A bushy tail pops out as she screams in agony. My knife…sword…blade…it carves…sinfully. Awfully.
And then the voice comes again.
I think it know it this time.
It sounds like…Jarold Westblade.
And yet…also…just a little bit…like someone else.
I’ll kill everyone they send!
Because…because…I…love…you…
[Do you know why I did it?
Isn’t it obvious?
As you wake up, the fever will part
The burning truth, surrounded by that awful darkness
Cleanse it with blinding light but not fire
All the amnesia, all of me that is not me, let me rest
Have we met yet?
Forgive me for my sins…]
#
“How do you feel?”
When I awake from my dreams, it is not peacefully. The magic which has been my first response to danger surges to my lips, and my fingers reach for Mephis’s dagger. However, since my eyes are sealed shut with dried tears, I cannot open them to see where I am. Where am I? The Trials…my badge! But then-
“Elina?” I ask. A small harrumph comes from somewhere forwards and to my right. The annoyance in the sound, as well as the smell of herbs is what does it. I remember where I am. All that’s happened. My panic abates. Touching my fingers to my eyes, I wipe away the dried, crusted tears. Painfully, I finally can open them. My head falls back as white light from the round “eye” hole in the ceiling pours down on me. A soft pillow stops my skull from cracking against the ground. When did that get there?
“You talk in your sleep.” Her dry voice tells me that my night terrors have returned. However, strangely enough, the woman who wasn’t fazed even by a council of assassins, seems to be on edge. When I manage to turn my super sore neck to face her on the chair by the little dining table, she still has her mask on. But I can read her body language, crooked as it is. “Some of the things you said…were strange. Do you remember?”
“I…no…” Vaguely, I remember a faint voice. One from the distant past. She’s been calling to me. But it’s so hard to hear her voice. I just…can’t…hold onto…the words. “What did I say?”
“Nothing.” Elina cuts me off there. But I know she’s lying. Her knuckles are clenching. What the hell did I say that made her so tense? “You’ve been asleep for a whole day. I would have used healing magic, but that would have ruined the effects of the training.”
“Training?” I rub my eyes some more. “What training?”
“The Trials are a tempering process. Each one designed to train both mind and body.” The possum mask twitches as she explains. “They will help you endure long missions, and stay vigilant in the future. If I healed you, your body would have simply reverted to how it wanted to be. And all your efforts for the last month would have been wasted.”
“Ah…” Grimacing as a vicious headache rocks through my skull like a thunderclap, I force myself to raise my neck and look around. Natalia’s still sleeping on the cot. Little has changed in the hut, although the light from the ceiling does show that the day has changed. “I didn’t know it worked like that.”
“Of course.” I get the feeling that Elina is rolling her eyes, although I can’t see them in the darkness. “In the old days, the 2nd Trial was the real test. Whoever survived was already all but guaranteed to become the Secthead. And all…most…everyone else died in the process. Their blood was the water which would nourish the birth of the next Eastern Raingod. After Romy became the first Eastern Raingoddess however, things changed. Still though, we did our best to make sure those who passed the Trials would come out stronger.”
“If the Sect is to grow stronger, it needs to stop killing its talent and focus on training them.” I’m familiar with this particular shift in culture. Many of the ancient people on Earth went through a similar evolution over time. “You guys made the right choice.”
“Hmph…yes, I’m sure we did.” Elina’s mask moves ever so slightly and I see her ears twitch as if her lips are wrinkling behind it. “But what would a mere Acolyte know about right and wrong?”
“Uhh…” Scratching my head, I become acutely aware of how short I am on the ground looking up at Elina in her chair. Even despite her hunched form, she’s still an adult and much taller than me. “Just an opinion.”
“That didn’t sound like just an opinion.” Now I think she’s smirking. Her acerbic wit is almost familiar, but I can’t think of anyone that cuts quite so deep as her when they speak. “It’s okay. I’m not like the others here. I do not believe in suppressing individual opinion. People are not slaves. Even people as young as…you…can sometimes provide surprising insight. You know, the original Arch-Priestesses who pioneered Healing Magic were barely older than you.”
“Oh?”
“Hmph, is that so surprising?” Elina laughs. “Some of the magics you use I’ve never seen their like before. Even elven magic doesn’t have spells which match the explosion you create. Did someone teach you, or did you figure it out yourself?”
“I had a teacher but…” Spreading my hands, I can only be honest before Elina’s all-knowing gaze. “I figured it out myself.”
“As I thought. You’re not ordinary. But what child is…” Shaking her head, the laughter leaves her lips as suddenly as it comes and her mask becomes deadly still and silent again. After a long pause, she shivers. “Now that you’re rested…have you decided what you wish to do with your time? A year may sound long, but it will pass like the blink of an eye if you waste it.”
“Don’t worry…” Glancing right into that possum mask in the dark, I meet Elina’s gaze. Concentrating, I reach into the future and speak with the confidence of one who knows. “I’ll never waste a second again.”