She was still reading. Or rather, re-reading.

Lying in bed, the setting sun was starting to become too weak to light up the room. I knew her eyesight was good, far better than most, but I knew eventually she’d need to light the lamp next to the bed.

I was lying on the bed alongside her, but had lost one of the pillows that were mine. It was now stacked beneath Renn’s head, helping support her up so she could read comfortably.

Renn flipped another page, slowly and carefully. It was the second to last.

It was a little odd. I hadn’t read that book in over a hundred years, yet I could guess the exact word she was reading.

I could recite that book word for word, couldn’t I?

The chronicler hadn’t noticed which book I had laid in front of her. I knew she would after we left, or had by now, but she had not noticed this morning. It helped that her book used the same white leather as the others. Though she should have noticed that it was much smaller than usual. The one they occasionally gave to new members had thrice as many pages.

Jelti will also notice, when she comes in to clean up after we leave. Odds are she’d read it too, since she’s probably never even seen such a thing.

A stupid worry, but one that bothered me all the same.

Maybe I should toss it into the fire before we leave, instead.

It was time that book got burnt anyway.

Renn turned another page, and I glanced at her.

I had to give her some kudos. She hadn’t shed a single tear. Maybe the book wasn’t as emotional as I remembered it.

“What’s an oblation?” Renn suddenly asked.

Raising an eyebrow at her, I wondered why it had taken her this long to ask if she hadn’t known. She’s re-read that thing nearly a dozen times already.

“A sacrifice. To a god, basically,” I said.

“Oh…” her ears drooped as she realized something dreadful.

“Yea, your god loves those things,” I said with a tone that made even me flinch. I shouldn’t say such things, or act in such a way. Why did I become so snippy around her? Usually I kept it in control.

Renn though didn’t seem bothered as she slowly closed the book, finishing it. She let the book slowly down onto her chest, and held it there as if it was something too precious to part with.

“Usually an oblation is food or money. It’s what you’d call most of the donations that happened during the festival,” I said, trying my best to redeem myself for my previous comment.

“Yet for her it was something far more,” was all Renn said.

I nodded. It had been.

Her tail danced near our feet, and if she was more cat than human I would have assumed she was upset. Maybe she was. Her tail even thumped into my feet occasionally.

“I feel as if you have a history beyond imagination,” Renn then said.

“Just seems that way,” I said.

She shook her head, and I knew she didn’t believe me. None of them ever did.

“You were there when she wrote this?” Renn asked.

“No. But I was around. Most of them I agreed to long before she wrote that,” I said.

“Some are… a little odd,” she opened the book, and pointed to the middle of one of the pages. “Why do you have to oblige those who long for death?” she asked.

“Back then there were many who couldn’t die. At least not from age,” I said gently.

Renn’s eyes finally became watery as she took a deep breath.

Would this be it? Would that be enough to deter her?

“I killed my grandmother. She was in pain. Horrible pain yet couldn’t die,” she then whispered.

Damn. It wouldn’t be.

“A mercy,” I whispered back.

She slowly nodded. “Yet a burden I…” she gulped and then looked at me. I hesitated as two beautiful eyes focused on me. They were full of emotion, and not just tears. “I once wished you had been there. To do the deed for me, so I’d not have to bear the shame,” she quickly said.

I understood her meaning quickly, and wasn’t entirely sure on what to say. She had hoped I had been the one to kill her grandmother, for her.

“If you choose to join me, Renn, you will eventually have to endure such shame again,” I warned.

“But not of my own family,” she argued.

“Who says they’re not?” I argued back.

She hesitated, and I knew it was because she fully understood what I meant. They might not be blood, or family in the true sense… but they were in the end people I cherished. Even the ones who bothered me, like Henrietta, would leave scars in my heart if I had to kill them.

Renn scowled and looked back to the book. She turned the page back once, and pointed at another rule.

“To venture into the mist and seal it?” she asked.

“That’s no longer a thing. There was a mist to the north a long time ago; I killed the creature that was making it. You can ignore it,” I said.

“Oh…” she sniffed, and I had to look away. Hopefully she’d not start bawling right here and now.

A crying woman in the same bed as me was not something I found very enjoyable.

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“How many of these have you fulfilled?” she asked.

“A good portion…” I said, and wondered if maybe I shouldn’t have shown her that book.

“This one? To seal the goliath monarch in the sands?” she asked.

“Yea, I actually did that before she died,” I said.

Renn huffed and slowly turned the pages to find another.

“What about children? She asks you to let your children decide their own fate?” Renn asked next.

“Oh… yea none from me yet, sorry,” I said.

Renn’s tail twitched as she flipped a page. “Did you find her daughter?” she finally asked.

“No,” I whispered.

I slowly sat up, which caused Renn to go still. Even her tail stopped mid-twitch. It hung in the air as I glanced at the nearby balcony. It was growing dark rather quickly.

“Other… other than those, the rules seem pretty normal Vim. Protect any member. Keep them safe. Help them find homes, if you can. Stay your hatred of the church and those who wronged you, out of mercy,” Renn sounded a little odd as she hurriedly went to the next topic.

“I was ready and willing to answer about her just then you know?” I said to her.

Renn’s tail twitched just once, and she too finally sat up a little. Renn put the book down next to her as she crossed her legs under her and she grabbed her tail with both her hands. “I could tell,” she whispered.

“Don’t want to know?” I asked.

“I do,” she nodded honestly.

“Celine was a Saint. One who saw prophecies. Her daughter was kidnapped not too long after I met her the first time. I never found her. Nor any trace of her, either,” I said. I’d not insult Celine by telling any more.

“Prophecies?” Renn asked.

“Some people have dreams. Ones that supposedly tell the future. I’ve never put any stock into them,” I said.

Judging by the look Renn was suddenly giving me, she suddenly put one and two together.

Someone must have mentioned one of the prophecies, or something about them. Had the chronicler said anything about them in front of her? I didn’t remember her doing so while I was there.

“You don’t believe in magic, after all,” Renn said with a sudden nod of understanding.

“Right?” I nodded. I didn’t.

“What were the prophecies about?” she asked.

“Stupid stuff. Wars. Certain historic moments. The end of the world, which never happened by the way,” I said.

Renn frowned, and then glanced at the book. “Something tells me that’s because of you,” she said softly.

I pointed at the book, to get us off the prophecies. Those were worthless and a waste of breath to speak about. “The main promise that I haven’t fulfilled yet is found a nation for our people. It was one she desperately desired,” I said.

“A nation…” Renn kept her eyes on the book.

“A fool’s errand. Not only are there not enough of us anymore, there’re not enough willing to live together. It’d only result in failure,” I said.

“Have you actually tried?” she asked.

“Of course I have. Over the years many have tried to fulfill that supposed prophecy. When they do I give them my full support. As I said, it results only in failure.”

Terrible failure.

“I see…” she whispered as she looked to the balcony. The world had become dark. Probably not dark enough that she couldn’t read if she strained her eyes, but it’d not comfortable.

Although a single tear had yet to fall, she looked distraught. Yet every moment that passed she seemed to gain control over her emotions. It made her seem…

I had to look away from her since I found her beautiful.

“Were… were you our enemy?” Renn then asked.

“At one time,” I said softly.

“Which is why you had to agree to abandon your hate,” she said as she held up the small book.

“It was how she chose to phrase it,” I said.

“Why were you our enemy? You’re one of us,” she asked.

“It was a different world back then. There were more of us. Enough to justify building a nation, in fact. At that time there were several… factions, I suppose you could call them. The Society wasn’t united. Wasn’t a thing. There were large portions of our kind that wanted to slaughter the humans. They wanted a perpetual war,” I said.

“A war…” she seemed to understand.

“A war they lost, by the way,” I added.

Renn studied me for a moment, and then smiled. “Which side were you on?” she asked.

“I always lose,” I said with a shrug.

She smirked in a way that told me she had parsed my real answer. It made me feel as readable as that book she held.

“What are you, Vim?” she asked softly.

“The Societies protector. Nothing more,” I answered.

Renn’s smirk died a little, and she looked away from me as if she didn’t like what she had seen. “Did you know Amber hated how the Society treated you?” she asked.

She hadn’t brought up Amber in quite some time. “Did she?” I asked.

Amber’s letter, the one she had written some time before she died had mentioned something similar.

“I thought it was very kind of her to worry about you. Even though she hated you in a way,” Renn said.

“Hm.”

For a few moments we sat in silence as the room grew even darker.

“Thank you Vim,” Renn said softly. She lifted the book a little, to tell me what she meant.

“Don’t thank me yet.”

She shook her head. “No matter what happens. No matter what… Thank you. For giving me a chance,” she said.

A chance…

Yes. That was all I was giving her.

An opportunity. Nothing more.

“Celine loved you too, didn’t she?” Renn asked as she ran her finger along the books spine.

“She loved what she thought I’d become,” I said.

“The protector,” she said softly with a smile, as if she had understood Celine completely.

Renn’s tail danced in the dark. She looked a little too comfortably happy sitting on the bed with me.

“Don’t worry about the history too much. Just pay attention to the future,” I told her.

“Sounds like something you tell yourself,” she said softly.

“I do. Is there a problem with that?” I asked her.

Renn quickly shook her head. Her ears danced a little as she did so.

“Good. Now can I have my pillow back so I can sleep or are you going to keep it?” I asked.

Although dark, I still saw Renn’s strange smirk as she went to grab it for me. “There’s a lamp right next to my bed, not going to let me light it?” she asked.

“You read that thing nearly a dozen times,” I said as she handed me my pillow.

“What if I missed something?” Renn asked with a playful tone.

“Please do,” I offered.

Laying back down, this time with a pillow, I waited for her to light the lamp… but she didn’t. She put the book down and laid down herself.

“You can read, Renn,” I said, hoping she didn’t think I actually would be upset if she did.

“We’re leaving in the morning right?”

“We are.”

“If I don’t sleep now I’ll not get any sleep. I need a few hours to settle my mind, at the least,” she said.

“Settle your mind then,” I said as I rolled over, to face away from her.

Closing my eyes, I couldn’t help but hear her huff as she got comfortable. She had probably wanted me to keep answering questions. To stay up and talk with her in depth about Celine, her prophecies, and the Society.

There’d be time enough for that later on our trip.

Maybe.

If I felt like it.

“Goodnight Vim,” Renn said softly. I heard her tail brush against the bed.

“Goodnight Renn.”