Chapter 192: Stay the Course
Seyari was out on patrol when someone knocked on our bedroom door. I put my quill down to answer it, wondering who it could be at this hour. Good thing I’m still wearing today’s clothes and not a nightgown. If it’s Taava again…
I pulled the door open just a crack—Shyll hadn’t been by and the bed was still a mess. “Yes?”
Sonia Rozaro was on the other side. Salvador’s demon-blooded daughter looked up at me with wide eyes, and flinched a little when my gaze met hers. She was wearing a borrowed tunic and trousers complete with a leather traveling satchel—the clothes were a little overlarge, and the dull colors made her crimson skin seem even brighter.
“U-uhm… can we talk?” She spoke quietly, but with a firm undertone.
“Sure, but the room’s a bit of a mess.”
“That’s alright.” Sonia shook her head, and I realized her horn jewelry wasn’t in—the silence without an accompanying jangle of metal was deafening.
With a shrug, I opened the door and motioned for her to step inside. Is something wrong? She seems so serious. “Is Inva alright? Should I put up a barrier for privacy?”
Sonia started to shake her head again as she stepped inside, but stopped. “…a barrier for privacy?”
“In case you don’t want this conversation overheard.” I closed the door and gestured to the small table we had by the windows—the one not covered in sheafs upon sheafs of hardly-organized paper.
She blinked up at me. “What does it look like?”
Oh. “It’s wind magic—like this.” I snapped my claws and conjured up a circular breeze around us. “But a lot more intense.”
Her eyes moved from the wind past my lower arms, then widened. “Renna, your papers!”
I turned around, and immediately dispersed my magic. The half-organized papers were now half on the floor. All my senses, and I still missed the mundane sometimes. At least my quill in its inkpot hadn’t moved. “I’ll, uh, clean it up later—if you have something important, we should talk about it now.”
When I glanced back her way, Sonia was stifling a giggle with one slender hand. I snapped my jaw shut and coughed, moving quickly to sit down. “I can still do the barrier—we might be far enough away.”
Sonia’s giggle burst out of confinement and she sat down next to me with an energy she suddenly seemed to just have. “N-no! That’s fine—I don’t care if we’re overheard. But I guess you might?”
“Didn’t you just—”
She waved me off, still giggling, then froze suddenly.
I tilted my head to one side. “What’s up?”
“I, uh…” she scrunched her face. “I don’t really know how to say this, so give me a minute.”
“Sure thing!”
She looked at me askance, brow furrowing and eyes meeting mine briefly. Her posture contracted on the chair, hands gripping the sides and legs tucked tightly underneath. One deep breath—then another—later, she spoke. “Are you… alright?”
I realized I’d been fidgeting with my lower hands under the table and pulled them apart. “What do you mean?”
“You killed a man. And I’ve heard you killed a lot of people when you first got here.” As she spoke, her voice steadied, and after her words, she took another breath and sat up straight, chin level and legs planted.
“Yeah?”
“That’s not like you,” she said with surety, and a shallow nod.
“I—” I bit my tongue to swallow my next words. I’ve changed. Why am I so ready to admit that? “I had to?” The words felt hollow, and I pitched the verb at the end like a question.
Sonia closed her eyes, and placed an open hand on the table. Unlike my claws, her black nails were neatly trimmed—and very human. “Does it bother you?”
“No… I guess a little.” I looked out the window and blinked, eyes suddenly wet. “Yeah, actually. A lot.”
“That’s a good thing.” She reached for one of my hands.
I let her guide my hand into hers—our skin tones were a little different when put right next to each other. “How would you know?” Her hand’s small—or mine’s just big.
“Dad told me. Told me he told you—too.” She grasped around my hand and looked up at me. I averted my gaze, and she continued, “You probably don’t want to hear it, but the Church of Dhias says the same.”
“I know.” My words were soft—and I really, really wished I had the barrier up. Why?
“Want to talk about it?”
Her words hit me like a bolt of holy magic, and I froze, staring at her hand held in mine—no. My hand held in hers. “I had to.”
“I believe you.”
“I had no choice.”
Sonia was silent.
“Can I… put up a barrier?” I asked.
She nodded, brown eyes bright.
Without fanfare, I drew upon the magic granted to me by my vow to Seyari. Sey. How do you live with this? Are you really alright?
Once the wind was up, I tried to relax into my chair, but all I did was kink my tail. “What else could I have done?”
“I don’t know.”
I glanced across at Sonia, and saw that her eyes were clear—determined. “How can you help then?”
“I can listen.”
“Is this about earlier?”
“Yes. I… something about you was different. Had Dad not been so insistent, I’d have just assumed he was wrong about you.” She rubbed her thumb down mine, and down the claw to the tip.
I kept still, making sure not to cut her. I even dulled my claw a little.
“Like your claw just now.”
“But what I was like almost killed Seyari. And… and this is different!”
“Mhm.” She nodded, tracing the claw again.
“I’m not going to…” I’m not going to what?
I thought back to Vivian. How hopeful I’d been to help her. Lorelei was the same—heck I still wanted to help her. But would I? Could I afford to?
“They’ll walk all over me if I let them” was what I finally came up with.
“So you killed someone to make an example?”
“No!” I jerked my hand out of Sonia’s grip. I felt an un-dulled claw slicing, and saw red droplets hitting the table.
Sonia winced, and stared down at her hand, and the deep cut through one of her fingers—almost to the bone, it looked like.
“I’ll get a healer!” I jumped up, knocking the chair aside.
Sonia shook her head. “My satchel—it has healing supplies in it.”
“Did you think this would happen?” My words snapped out almost like an accusation. No, not almost.
Sonia smiled, but it looked forced. “I always carry them, just in case—and not just for myself. It’s my duty.”
Right. “Sorry!”
Jolted into action, I grabbed her satchel—carefully—and opened it for her. She guided me through what to hand her when, and soon had her hand cleaned and bandaged. Even the blood on the table was mostly cleaned up.
She gestured at the knocked-over chair after fixing her satchel. “Sit… please—if you would.”
I stared at her, then at my claws. Spinning the wind up again, I sat back down.
“If you didn’t kill the High Priest to make an example—” Sonia cradled her injured hand. “—what would have happened?”
“…More death. I think?”
“Do you have the right to make that judgment?”
“Does anyone?” I hissed.
Instead of shrinking back, Sonia finally met my gaze. “No. No one does.”
“Then what am I supposed to do? I’ve tried the alternative!” I almost smacked a fist into the table, but I stopped myself and held the upper arm with the lower, shaking. “Seyari almost died! Twice! Not to mention my friends! And I gave him plenty of chances…”
“I believe that. Inva’s still struggling with it, but… I don’t think you had a better choice.”
“But it wasn’t the right thing to do.” I threw my hands up and hissed, unable to stop a lick of flame escaping my lips.
“Yes.” Sonia didn’t flinch, and her eyes didn’t leave my face.
Slumping back in my chair, I threw my head forward into my hands, if only to get away from her innocent eyes. “So there’s no right thing! I know that!”
“Yes.” Her voice had the slightest hitch to it.
I looked up, chin resting on a forearm. Behind me, my tail scraped the floor as it twitched. “Then what’s the point of all this!”
“Change.” Sonia said the word in Cavenish, her voice strong.
Instead of an immediate response, I bit my lip and stayed my words. With my lower arms, I pulled my tail over my lap, just to enjoy its warmth. When I looked at Sonia again, she was still staring back, but I could see her shaking.
“I’ve changed. But I had to.”
“Yes.”
“But… when does the change stop? I… I just—earlier today—made sure Astrye has a semi-independent leader. A buffer so my power doesn’t decide everything. Is that it? That I’ll use my strength to get my way more and more?” I gripped my tail with my lower hands hard enough to hurt.
“You might, and you already have.” Sadness entered Sonia’s tone, and when I dared to glance up she was looking right back at me, but not quite meeting my gaze.
“But I had to!” I protested.
“I agree, but what if ‘had to’ changes?”
“It can’t!”
Sonia nodded. “But what if it does? This isn’t logical, Renna.”
When “had to” changes… When had it—no pun intended—changed? Certainly on Torrez’s ship; my first kills of humans. On my island before that, too. Then again in Lockmoth—making judgment outside the heat of battle, being an aggressor.
The most obvious in Gedon, with Vivian. Then I crossed my own line in Astrye—first the cult then High Priest Grants. Now, I was ready to kill not just the cultists and my demonic opponents, but Church or militia or mercenary—whoever got in my way.
I had to.
Didn’t I?
I realized I was crying, and wiped at my eyes with my upper hands. “So…” I choked up, and took a breath, then tried again. “So how do I stop it changing? I already crossed my own lines—three times or more.”
“Just be aware of it.” Sonia closed her eyes. “Be okay with regret, and that bad things can be done for good reasons. You lose yourself when you think of them as good or justified.”
“…Does the Church teach this?”
“In Cavenze, it does. It should everywhere, but I don’t know.” She opened her eyes and smiled thinly. In the moment, she looked far beyond her years. “That’s the sort of thing that’s older than Ordia. Priest Luzio taught me that, and my mom too.”
“So what do I do?”
“I… I’m sorry.” Sonia hung her head. “I don’t know.”
I couldn’t help myself. I chuckled, then the chuckle turned into a laugh. Then a guffaw. Still bent over the table, I laughed through my tears at the awfulness of it all. At some point, Sonia’s uninjured hand found itself over mine and the wind faded away.
I killed High Priest Grants. I regret that, but I’d do it again. Going forward, I need to keep in mind how far I’m straying, and if I can stay the course.
More than that, I needed to have another talk with Seyari, but Dhias, I did not have the energy for that tonight.
When I pulled my head up, Sonia was looking out the window. Scattered clouds rolled by, borne on winds that rushed between mountain peaks. Behind them, the stars twinkled and glittered.
“Thanks, Sonia.”
She looked down at me, and I felt her worry in her gaze. I also realized I’d never felt any anger from her since she’d gotten here.
“I hope it helped—I’m still new to this.”
“It helped, trust me.”
“I’m glad.”
“You’re a lot more… hmm.” I shook my head. “I shouldn’t say.”
Sonia giggled, and switched into Cavenish. “No, I think I get it. And you’re right!” The giggle died into a frown. “I was so nervous I was shaking, and my hand hurts so bad I’m almost crying. Held it together though!”
Her hand! I looked over at the bandages. Blood was just starting to soak through them. “How deep was it?”
She winced. “I saw bone.”
I started to stand up, letting go of my abused tail. “We’re going to my daughter to get you healed.”
“Isn’t she away tonight? I heard that from your friend Taava.”
Oh, right. “Sey’s out on patrol until dawn.”
“What about Inva?” Sonia stood and pushed her chair in carefully.
“I’m a mess… and she sees me as, I dunno, a hero.” I gestured down at myself, all rumpled and teary-eyed. “I don’t want her to see me like this—or to know that I hurt you.”
“Why?”
I groaned. “I… I should be honest, huh?”
“You did build a reputation on it.” Sonia walked around to my chair, but I pushed it in before she got to it, with a mock glare for good measure.
“I want my sense of humor back.”
Sonia tilted her head. “Huh?”
“…Never mind. Where’s Inva?”
“I know which room she’s staying in, and she’s probably there.”
“What if she’s asleep?”
“She won’t be.”
I winced. “I think I need to talk to her, too.”
“Mhm.” Sonia smirked. She tried to hide it, but I caught the expression as it flashed across her face.
“How much of this did you plan?” I narrowed my eyes and gave her a mock glare.
She giggled. “None of it, actually!”
Stupid serendipity.
“Let’s go then.” I walked to my mess of a desk and penned a quick “will clean up later” on an exposed corner of something probably unimportant.
Still cradling her hand, but wearing a smile and exuding a bright energy, Sonia led me through my own castle down toward where Inva was staying.