Martin didn’t dare touch her as she got up, stumbling into bed. He made sure she was comfortable, watching her pull the blankets all the way up to her neck before he turned to go. He felt her hand in his, stopping him.

He paused, before turning back to her.

“My older sister was four or five when my mother handed her my baby brother and told her to take care of him.” Inessa wasn’t looking at him, tears still spilling from her eyes. “My sister loved my baby brother but didn’t bother to learn how to actually take care of him, and my mother honestly didn’t care if my brother died. She… she ran a brothel. If my brother died, she’d have another one to replace him. He was in so much danger all the time. Screaming all the time. Soiled all the time. My earliest memories was realizing my brother was about to die of starvation and I picked him up, trying to figure out how to take care of him because no one else was, and I never wanted to see a dead baby. I think I was three. I don’t know. My mother never kept track of when we were born.” Inessa continued to stare at the wall. Martin realized she was giving him a confession, but it wasn’t really. This was more like a glimpse into her life. He stayed quiet and continued to let her hold his hand. “At three I fed him. Clothed him. Tried to keep him alive. And it worked. For eight years after, my mother would go to work, get pregnant, and hand the baby over to me to raise. I… I was under so much stress, trying to take care of so many children, keep them fed, keep them entertained, keep them as clean as I could. I would spend so many nights breaking down from the stress of doing it all by myself, raising my half siblings, trying to do everything I could to give them any sort of life. When I was around ten, I was brave enough to confront my mother about it. She told me that this was how she grew up too, and how I would eventually live. Raise babies in my childhood, and not relax until adulthood, where I could drink and have sex and party. Finally have the relaxing life I should have had in childhood. Leave my own children to raise themselves so I could finally take a break from the stresses of life.”

Inessa closed her eyes, tears dropping onto her pillow. Martin realized his mouth was hanging open. “My mother kept getting pregnant. By the time I was eleven, I was in charge of my six younger siblings, and my older sister was… was starting work in the brothel. She was old enough to pass for fourteen, even if my mother never bothered to check. It didn’t take my older sister long to get pregnant. Nine months later, after she delivered, she… she gave me the baby to take care of. I was already taking care of my three-month-old brother at the time.” Martin stared at her, the horror growing inside him. “I realized this was all I would do for the rest of my life. Take care of everyone else’s children, and I grew to resent it. I found out from another, more experienced whore that enhanced poppy root keeps a woman from getting pregnant so... so I drugged my mother and sister to give me peace of mind while the babies grew.” Inessa opened her eyes, finally looking at Martin. “I could have worked at the brothel, but my mother had other plans. She… she presented me in front of High Elder Dalius while he came for a visit, and he picked me to be his concubine. I gave myself the poppy root, just for a few months. I wanted to give myself a break for the first time in my life. A few months stretched further and further until…” Inessa looked away. “Until I realized how much I never want to have a child of my own.”

Martin knelt beside her bed, placing his other hand over hers. He had nothing to say to her. He simply could not comprehend having to raise one’s own siblings at such a small age. More tears fell on her pillow. “I’m sorry I lied. To you. To the High Elders. It has been a lovely four years, but I would rather go home disgraced then have a child.”

Martin frowned, feeling compassion for the girl. “Inessa,” he started to say before he hesitated. She had told him a lot, and he didn’t want to hurt her any more than she already was. Going home disgraced would kill her. If she had depression this bad, if there was no support at home, he didn’t dare let her return. But he wasn’t going to tell her all that tonight. Not after what he did. “Rest now. We will talk about this more tomorrow night.”

Inessa opened her eyes, blinking back the tears. “What is going to happen tomorrow night?”

Martin patted her hand. “We’ll talk. Nothing more. I need to make sure you are getting better before we make plans on what needs to be done.”

“Do I… do I still need… a baby?” Inessa asked, her tired eyes starting to panic again.

“Do not worry about it tonight. I will think of something.”

A fresh wave of tears fell from her eyes as she nodded. “I’m tired. I’d like to sleep now.”

Martin believed her. He let go of her hands and she curled into a tight ball, closing her eyes. He truly hoped she would sleep.

Martin put on his shoes and socks before slipping on his High Elder robe. He opened the door, easing out of the room. He nodded to the two female servants who walked back into Inessa’s room to keep an eye on her.

He almost ran into Derio on the way to the guest room. Derio backed away, eyes wide.

“Martin?”

“Yes, hello Derio. Can you get me the strongest drink you can find?” he said.

Derio still stared, wide eyed. At first Martin was confused until he felt the pulsing pain at his cheek, the blood covered handkerchief still on his nose. He had almost forgotten about them while he had talked with Inessa. Martin gave a tiny sigh. “And a healer?”

“Of… course. Right away,” Derio said.

Martin continued down the hall to the guest room, opening the door to see all his belongings there. There were candles to illuminate it, and he slowly sank into a chair, lost in thought.

There was a gentle knock on the door. “Come in.”

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Derio returned with a cup and another male servant, who healed him quickly and did not ask questions. Martin mumbled his thanks as he left. Martin drained the drink without even tasting it before handing the glass back to Derio.

“Is everything alright, Martin?” Derio asked.

He glanced around the guest room, at his room. He had done awful things, used his title as High Elder to rape Inessa multiple times. To rape a countless number of women. His marriage existed only on paper, and he realized, now more than ever, that the devil was creating a place just for him in Hell.

No, everything is not alright. Martin looked at Derio and gave a slight bow of the head. “That will be all, Derio.”

“Of course,” he said, bowing himself before leaving the room. Martin stood up once more and took off his High Elder robe before throwing it in a corner, secretly hoping it would catch on fire.

***

Tolomon stopped his horse, and Indenuel did as well. Tolomon easily dismounted, but it took Indenuel a while to get his legs to obey. Once he slid off his horse, he took a few faltering steps, his legs sore. Tolomon caught him before he fell.

“Are you alright?” Tolomon asked, the first words he had spoken to him in a long while.

“I’ve never ridden a horse this long,” Indenuel said, trying to walk around a bit to get the feeling back in his legs.

“I could try and heal you. It takes a skilled healer to get past the corruption in a person’s body, though,” Tolomon said.

Indenuel nodded, easing himself against a tree. Tolomon closed his eyes and touched Indenuel’s legs. He waited as Tolomon pushed his healing power, to give the muscles their energy back. There was a little warmth there, enough to soften the edge, even though Tolomon let go and shook his head. “I’m sorry. They didn’t focus on our God-given gifts.”

“It’s alright. Dinner and some rest will be good enough.”

“We have all day to travel too. Are you sure you don’t want to just turn around and head back to Santollia City?”

“I’m sure.” Indenuel pulled out a few blankets and placed them on the ground. Tolomon didn’t make eye contact as he tended to the horses, ensuring they were comfortable for the night before coming back, searching through the pack. He handed Indenuel some jerky, bread, and cheese.

“We’ll both get our sleep. We’ll need it for tomorrow,” Tolomon said.

Indenuel frowned. They hadn’t lit a fire, because they didn’t want to be noticed. “Shouldn’t one of us keep watch?” Indenuel asked.

“Just get some sleep,” Tolomon said.

Indenuel gnawed on the jerky, feeling annoyed. “You don’t trust me.”

“I don’t trust the demons that are telling you to kill me. That’s who I don’t trust,” Tolomon said, searching through their supplies and splitting his dinner in four ways. He wrapped three of them, trying them in shirts.

Indenuel frowned. “What are you doing?”

“I’ve done one of these missions before,” Tolomon said. “Tracking a fellow Graduate. There’s a certain tradition that goes with it.” He finished tying the three small packages before he tossed one into a bush frightening close to them.

“Thanks, Tolomon,” someone muttered from behind it.

Indenuel’s eyes widened as he stared at the bush, trying to lean far enough to see who was in there, but there was no one. If the bush didn’t start speaking, Indenuel honestly expected to see Tolomon’s pack spilled on the ground. But that wasn’t it. Tolomon tossed the second package towards Indenuel. At least, that’s what it looked like before it landed behind the tree right behind Indenuel.

“Is it the fancy cheese from the High Elder’s store house?” the tree said. Indenuel jumped.

“It is,” the bush said. “It’s so good.”

Tolomon took the final package and tossed it as high as he could into the trees above. Indenuel watched, but he never saw a human hand or toe sticking out anywhere.

“I thought so,” the branches said. “I could smell it right when we started.”

“Did I get everyone?” Tolomon asked as the clothing used for the packaging returned from the tree, bush and branches.

“What do you think, Tolomon?” the tree said.

“Quite sure there was a fourth, but that could have been a deer,” Tolomon said.

“Ooh, are we going to have venison on our return journey?” the branches above them asked.

Tolomon folded the clothes and stuffed it back in the pack. “You men can. We’ll have a different set of Graduates trailing us soon.”

“Fair enough. First one to kill it on the way back gets the first choice of cut,” the tree said.

“If this cheese wasn’t so incredibly smelly, I would save it for that feast,” the branches said.

“That’s Tolomon’s plan all along. Fill us with smelly cheese to keep track of us better,” the tree said.

Tolomon smirked, finishing his dinner. “You gentlemen are good. But not even the best can stay silent for this long.”

“The best meaning you,” the bush said.

“On the contrary, I can track myself far too easily,” Tolomon said. There were chuckles among the trees, the whole thing quite strange to Indenuel. “Warrior Indenuel and I could both use sleep for the job ahead. Will one of you take first watch?” Tolomon asked.

“I’ve got a pretty good scan of the camp. I’ll take first watch,” the branches said.

“Thank you,” Tolomon said.

The night settled again, and Indenuel was left feeling like once again it was only him and Tolomon. He wondered how much there was tradition in this, and how much Tolomon wanted Indenuel to know he was surrounded by Graduates. Indenuel stared at his bodyguard before remembering he had his food to finish.

It was a warm, spring evening, but Tolomon still tossed him most of the blankets in his pack. “We start as soon as dawn lights the sky. We’ll be in Intanatos by dinner time.” Indenuel settled into the blankets as Tolomon knelt beside his bed. “Would you like me to say the evening prayer for the both of us?”

Indenuel cracked an eye open, looking at the sky. Honestly, he hadn’t said the evening prayer with sincerity since he learned about the true nature of God. The past month he had given it up all together. What was the point of trying to keep up the pretenses in the quiet of his own room. But he also knew there were three other Graduates out there who had no idea about God.

“Yeah. Go ahead.”

Just tell them. Tell them the devil killed God.

Tell them there is no hope.

Convince the Graduates to join your side.

With four Graduates, you could bring down the High Elders.

Killing five old men is a lot easier than killing five hundred Kiamese soldiers.

“May the Savior look down on us in mercy. May he fill us with God’s remaining light.” Indenuel gasped as his chest was hit with a peace he did not expect. Physical warmth spread over his body as the demons were immediately silenced. “May we know the Savior understands us. And may it be a comfort in the night.”

Indenuel opened his eyes, staring at Tolomon. “That’s not the usual evening prayer.”

“No, it’s not,” Tolomon said, getting into his blankets and settling in.

“But…” Indenuel frowned at the sky. The sky that only had four twinkling stars in it. “How long have you been saying a prayer not sanctioned by the High Elders?”

“I’ve heard High Elder Cristoval say it, so I figured it would be a good idea to say it with you again,” Tolomon said.

“Again?” Indenuel asked.

Tolomon said nothing. There was something familiar about the prayer, he just couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Clearly Tolomon wasn’t going to tell him why, though.

“Good night, Indenuel.”

“Good night.” The night was peaceful. The demons were gone. It did not take him that long to drift off to sleep.