Confess for those that you love and embrace,
Confess for your god, his presence, his grace.
“You can put me down now,” I said quietly.
“So what does that mean? Do we need to say something, a truth?”
“I think so. I think we need to speak truly, mention love, hate, pain, and…god.”
“Well, I can’t speak Earthen, so that leaves you to do the talking.”
“Well, that’s very convenient for you.” I took a few deep breaths, thinking about what I should say. “All right, so, truth about love and pain, hate and god. It shouldn’t be that hard, right?”
Marshen shrugged. I moved in front of the textured door and aligned myself close to its centre, fists clenched at my sides. The two snakes stared back at me, their dark eyes gleaming menacingly. I spoke loud and clear, each Earthen word strongly pronounced.
“I—I don’t remember my parents. But I loved them, I am certain of it. I love Cinnamon and Sand Priestess Selmira. I love Semuel, Faern, Sabi, and Nadya. I love them, and I miss them all. I hated Mounir. For all that he did to us. The apprehension and the mistreatment…I—I hate Aegir. I hate him. For—for making me trust him. For making me vulnerable, then ripping my heart right out of my chest. And my god—my god is Amfir, god of sand and fertility.”
I had barely finished my last word when Marshen lunged at me, toppling us both to the floor. I yelped, then winced at the sharp pain that ran along my spine at the impact. The fall caused me to lose my grip on the flame and I unwantedly sent it flying across the room. Whistling hisses filled the room, followed by faint thuds.
“What the? Get off me,” I muttered, sliding myself from underneath him.
I crawled towards the pocket flame, then assessed its silver casing, letting out a sigh of relief. I was about to get to my feet but was stuck in place. My eyes widened at the metal arrows that lined the opposite wall.
My head snapped towards Marshen, my eyes assessing his body from head to toe. My brows furrowed when I glimpsed him holding his side. A patch of red grew larger by the second.
A surge of panic flooded me, leaving me distraught. Yet I still found it within me to crawl towards him. I lifted his red-stained white shirt.
“Thank Boreas,” he mumbled. The arrow only grazed his side.
Comparing it to Aegir’s wound made it seem like a paper cut, but I still deemed it necessary to tend to it. I took out my waterskin and dampened a piece of cloth, which I used to dab his skin. Then I took out the tin of salve that Blake had promised and delivered.
“The young lady from Mistgeil Island said it’s best to apply it directly on the wound while it’s still bleeding.”
“Well, good for me it bleeds still.” My eyes rolled. Marshen winced and grunted.
“Baby.”
“You know, you can be a very mean lady sometimes.”
“Hold still,” I grumbled, wrapping a piece of fabric around his torso, just as I had done with Aegir. “There, you’re all set.”
Before we stood, I nudged Marshen’s arm. “How did you know?” I asked quietly.
“Open your heart to open the door. Fail to do so and pray for the floor.Delia, I may not understand a single Earthen word, but your tone, I could tell that you didn’t speak from the heart.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know if I can do this—it’s not as easy as I thought.”
“Just…speak the truth. Whatever you say, it will remain between you and yourself…and those two snakes, but I don’t think they can speak, so…”
“I’ll try. But if it doesn’t work, you’re writing a speech and then I will translate it for you.”
I once again stood before the listening snakes.
Round two.
I let out a deep exhale, shaking myself off.
“I—I hate myself. I hate myself for forgetting them. I hate myself for not being able to remember their faces. For not knowing if I loved them, and if they loved me. Every day I try to remember, and every day I fail.”
