“I meant what I said in the forest. Every word of it. Believe that.” Before either one of us can respond to his cryptic words, Wren turns and moves into the arch. My eyes widen as he disappears into the darkness.
I look at Chiron, his face blank but his eyes full of words unsaid. To me? To Wren? I do not know the answer. But I smile up at him, hoping to bolster us both for what is to come.
“I love you,” I say, and then I let his arm go too, and I walk through the archway.
The darkness lasts but a moment, as I pass from one mountain to another. I emerge into the next chamber, not dissimilar from the one we just left. It is darker here. The cavern is smaller, and the rocky ceiling is much closer than the last. Fascinating points come down from it, looking as if the rock had melted and refrozen like icicles on the side of a window.
As my eyes once again adjust to the change in light, Chiron enters the chamber behind me. The buzzing vibrations that pushed us toward this place have ceased, and the earthen room is silent before us. Wren turns to speak to us, but no words flow from his lips. His eyebrows pinch together in confusion. He tries again, but no sounds emerge. Shock flows through us one by one as we discover that none of us can make a sound. Whatever we are meant to do here? It is going to have to be done with trust.
Not unlike the ice caves of so many days ago, there is a platform situated at the back of the space. We gather around it, the stone formed from the wall behind it. At the center of the large rock, water bubbles up quietly, forming a basin in the middle of it. Neither full nor overflowing; a hidden spring from the earth below.
Upon the stone sit three silver cups, chalices really.
The first is tall, wider at the top, and with a delicate stem. The second, shorter and wider. Finally, the third is both round and taller than the one before it. One for each of us. The light is softer here than in the space we emerged from, so it’s hard to make it out. But words are once more etched into the stone table. I remove my glove and trace the words with my fingers.
Well of the Trinity
Joy is magnified, pain is divided.
I motionfor Wren and Chiron to do the same. One by one, they trace a path over each groove, slowly deciphering the message left for us by the Gods. Joy Magnified, Pain divided. We look at one another with confusion. The setup seems simple. But once more, the vow is up to our own interpretation. How are we to make this final vow to one another without voices to speak them?
Chiron acts first, reaching out for the tallest cup. He inspects the chalice closely, turning it in his large hands and feeling the etchings there. By some miracle, there is no dust to be found on it. Somehow ready for this moment before any of us existed. Still, he wipes the rim of it on his cloak before dipping it into the shallow pool and collecting the water. It fills slowly. The water is crystal clear, rippling softly up from the well and into his cup.
Chiron lifts the chalice first to me, then to Wren; determination and endearment radiate from him as he makes his silent toast to us. He has always been the first of us. Pride swells in me for Chiron. He is never shaken by his destiny, always prepared to offer his care and protection to us. He is a man born to his role as both a husband and a king.
The cup meets his parted lips, and as the first trickles of water flow into him, his eyes widen with shock. Emotions move across Chiron's face in waves. First, he smiles, his wide, toothy grin that warms my heart. But it fades quickly, turning to sorrow. Then anger comes, and his brow furrows with it, eyes cold.
My confusion is mirrored in Wren. I don’t understand what is happening to him. I press my hand to his chest just as he falls forward, grabbing the right side of his face. His weight is much more than I can bear, but Wren rushes forward, helping to keep Chiron successfully on his feet.
I step back from them, eyeing Chiron, who still holds his face in his hands, and then the two chalices left on the table. I understand what this is now. Wren looks back at me, his eyebrows raised and alarm clear in his eyes.
He shakes his head back and forth furiously. Don’t drink it. Does Wren think the chalices are poisoned?
I put out my hand to him, signaling him to stop, to wait. How can I tell him what this is without my voice?
I cannot. Not unless I take from the well myself. So I do.
I pick up my cup just as Chiron lifts his face again, once more standing of his own volition. Wren seeks to stop me once more, but Chiron places a hand on Wren’s chest, holding him back from me.
I dip my own chalice into the shallow pool and take a deep breath in through my nose. Whatever I am about to feel now? I can bear it. I tip the silver stem in my fingers and taste the cool water of the mountain.
The feelings that wash over me threaten to take me under. First, I feel a loneliness which I have never known, aching and cold in my chest. I feel like a small child once more, confused and reliant. As if a small voice cries, “Where are you? Why did you leave? What did I do?” But it is not my own.
Another wave crashes over me, this time one of anger. A boiling anger that heats my body and causes me to shake furiously with the rage of it. I feel like a penned animal. Like a young horse bucking at the sides of my stall. I grip at my chest, praying to Naedra to keep me from tearing myself apart.
The rage seems to consume me, a fire lighting its way up all of my limbs and trying to escape out of my throat. I scream, but no sounds accompany it. Silent screams that go on for what feels like forever.
It stops, flowing from me just as quickly as it had come on. I nearly collapse with relief. Gripping the side of the stone platform, I hold myself up, sucking in slow breaths once more through my mouth and letting them out slowly through my nose.I am okay. I am alright.
When my mind clears, I look up to Wren and Chiron, who stand together, Chiron’s arm wrapped tightly around Wren’s shoulders. They both look saddened, but they both understand what is happening here now.
When I feel steady, I raise myself and walk over to them. I walk to my husbands and press a hand to both of their cheeks. I hope it says to them all of the things I wish I could tell them right now.
I am sorry for how you have suffered. I am here now, I can bear it with you.
Wren closes his eyes to my touch, leaning his face into my palm for the first time—accepting my devotion for them at long last. Chiron’s eyes remain on me. A mixture of pride and gratitude shines through the dark browns and honeys therein. I smile at them both. To share this bond with them is sacred, to suffer with them is sacred.
Wren opens his eyes and turns to Chiron, planting a reverent kiss on his brow. He turns to me, placing one on mine as well. His lips are so soft on my skin, and it has been so long since I have felt them there.
