Session 30 | Chapter #
Head back through the garden–with any luck she’ll be out there instead of inside attending to party guests. That’s the extent of my plan. How to explain the way I’m feeling? How to accurately and empathetically articulate the fact that I am ashamed to have put her in this situation? Any of the actually important things going into this conversation? Not a clue, but I know to head back to the house through the garden.
The hedges create an almost maze-like feeling in the dark and I’m forced to follow the rough direction of the lights from the mansion to pick my way through the shrubs. After a minute or so, the sound of music being delicately played reaches my ears. My heart drops and I pause for a moment.
This is why you never should’ve gotten involved with the Eladrin, Huntress. His voice is like a nail dragging down my spine. My jaw clenches and I grate my teeth, fighting against the urge to scream into the night.
Fuck off, I snarl back in my head and keep walking along the graveled path. My fists are balled and my steps deliberate, but the moment I break through the gap in the hedges and see Perona sitting at the bench—the sight brings me to a halt. She’s alone on the stone bench, lightly picking at her kalimba, humming along with the notes.
You’re going to shatter her…the Priest taunts. My mind slams shut around itself, and I push him deeper and deeper into the recesses of my mind. I shove him into the crate I used to bury my feelings for Perona in and cover it with shovel-full after shovel-full of dirt. Bury him. Bury all the bullshit. All the noise–clear my head.
A deep breath calms a little of my edges before I build up the courage to approach her. We haven’t been ‘together’ for long–if you can even call it that. Everything was built up greater than it ever could be because of my own choice to fight my feelings for her, fight the influence she had over me, fight my mission. And when that dam finally broke? Everything broke. The foundations of my world crumbled, and I couldn’t even communicate to her how I truly felt–the way I feel like a fraud, a shell of who I once was. How I finally see a way forward out of this, to continue on my path, but I don’t see my hand in hers.
Arriving finally at the bench, I sit down, careful to be not too close to her but not so far that her guard goes up immediately. I catch a hint of a smile on her lips as I sit beside her. She’s still plucking chords absentmindedly as she begins to lean over–I know she’s going to stumble, but my body is rigid. I could catch her–I know I could–but I physically can’t bring myself to move without fearing everything spilling out of me.
The notes falter briefly as her body shudders, instinctually catching herself from falling. She sits up straight again and continues playing chords–ever the picture of nobility. I sigh and squeeze my eyes closed. “How are you feeling, my Marigold?” she softly asks.
Marrrrrigold, he coos in my ear, and I swear I feel breath behind my ear.
I fiddle with the cuffs of my sleeves, because if I don’t, I know I’m going to lose my cool before I even get a chance to start. “Bahamut had a lot to say tonight,” I state, the only sensible thing that comes to mind to say.
Perona keeps playing and I can’t tell if she’s just expecting me to keep speaking. A chill trickles down my spine and I ball my fists in my lap. My mind screams, Stop playing. For once, don’t just assume. For once see me for who I am. Look at me godsdammit!
“Perona? Do you mind not playing for a moment?” I try to say the question in an even tone, but I feel ash coat the back of my tongue nonetheless.
She stiffens and places the kalimba to the side in an overly delicate manner. “Okay,” she whispers, shifting to sit sideways on the bench and face me. “How was your talk? I would have thought it was good your god spoke to you again. Did it go well?”
Her full attention on me is suddenly too much and I want to run, want to escape this moment. My body is screaming, wanting to touch her hand and reassure her that this is bigger than she or I. Those are the words that would make this make sense, right? This isn’t my choice…this was something Bahamut asked me to do. Right?
Coward.
“I-it was a good conversation,” I stumble over my words after hearing the Priest’s accusation. It’s true though. At this moment, I’m being a coward. Earlier today when I was confronted with the truth about my conclave, I wanted to fight. I wanted to tear Raesh limb from limb for challenging my faith. Lendys criticized me and my immediate reaction was to launch myself at him–failed attempt as it was.
Why is it with this one person I can’t bring myself to be direct with? Can’t bring myself to speak my mind and instead dance around every emotion whether positive or negative?
I slide back slightly on the bench, putting a little more distance between us. Distance makes this feel a little easier–lightens the crushing pressure on my chest. Because at the end of the day, this is my choice. I know that. Bahamut might have a claim over me, Lendys might be tied to my soul, but neither of them is holding a dagger to my throat. My own two feet brought me here. My heart and my mind made this decision hours before Bahamut appeared in the vision–days before if I’m being completely honest.
“Perona, I’ve realized something,” I lift my gaze for the first time and meet her golden eyes. “My head’s been all over the place, and because of that, I haven’t been able to focus on my mission,” and quietly I add, “My purpose.”
“Your mission? Dismantling the cult?” Her tone is too bright, too hopeful. “We were always going to go back to that after we left here…” she trails off and my stomach drops. She quickly continues, “What’s going on, Sunshine? What do you need?” Her voice waivers slightly as the picks nervously on the strings. At the sound of the music, she quickly presses her knuckles to the bars and stops sound dead.
I groan and mutter through my teeth, “Gods, I’m not fucking sunshine.” I stand–distance, more distance–and start pacing back and forth. The crunch of gravel beneath my boots creates a rhythm to pace my breathing to as I attempt to keep myself centered.
Don’t blow up. It’ll only make things worse, I instruct myself.
“Yes, dismantling the cult,” I state, finding my footing back into this conversation. “I don’t think this place is a break from that though, and I almost missed it, because I was distracted.” The seriousness of that statement hits me like a boulder flying through the air. I almost missed it. I almost took my eye off the mission.
“Maire…”
Her tone cuts me like a blade.
She stands to reach out to me, knocking her kalimba to the side. The instrument goes clattering along the gravel. “Maire? What’s going on? What happened with Bahamut? I–What? Maire, what’s going on?” Her arms are stretched out, reaching towards me, her eyes wild with confusion and pain.
Another kill for your roster, Huntress.
Holding my hand out, in part so Perona won’t come any closer, but also in a naive attempt to brace her from falling. “Perona, I need to focus on Bahamut–on figuring out what this situation is with Lendys,” I state, shaking my head involuntarily. “I can’t keep pretending I’m a normal person when I’m not,” I confess.
There’s a moment when someone dies, when you feel the visceral release of their life from their body. Over and over throughout my training and this mission, I have ticked off each loss of life in the name of Bahamut. Now, I will add a tally in a different column. For in the barest moment following my words, I see the moment Perona’s heart, held in my hand, breaks.
The show that follows is bordering on horror. She stiffens for a breath but when she speaks, her words are flat and unfeeling, “This is you saying you don’t want to be with me. Isn’t it?” The smile that graces her lips is a farce, and my chest aches knowing I caused this. “You want Bahamut,” she chirrups, lifting just the corners of her smile as she speaks. She takes a step back and adds, “Or this mission more than…I understand.”
She nods and takes another quick step backwards.
For a moment, I question if the crunch I heard was the actual breaking of Perona’s heart. Wood splintering and discordant screeching notes are the only thing that give me pause and my gaze flicks to the ground. Beneath her feet is her kalimba–heel staked through the delicate wood, shards sticking out jaggedly at all angles.
Without looking down or so much as noticing the casualty at her feet, Perona continues, “I’ll make sure one of the staff can show you to your room, my–” She pauses, and corrects, “Maire.” She holds my gaze still, that smile plastered across her face, and declares, “I will be here to help you on your mission.” And with that single statement, she turns on her heel, only now acknowledging the broken instrument beneath her feet, and walks back to the house.
My body won’t move. My legs feel like they are cast in stone and anchor me here as a statue to my shortsightedness for eternity. I didn’t even get a chance to explain…
The spell breaks a moment later, and I take a hesitant step forward, wanting to go after Perona and make her understand my side. She has to understand, because if she understands then I couldn’t have been wrong.
Coward. You are the predator. Own your decision. This is feeding the distraction. Own your actions, Huntress. For the second time ever, his voice is encouraging and it causes my next step forward to falter.
I close my eyes and tilt my head to the sky. A low groan escapes my body, emanating from my core and grating along my throat. This is my choice. Just like choosing to stray down that road with Perona was my choice, and now I have to deal with the consequences of that action. Whatever they may be.
I scan the area surrounding me and my eyes land on the terrace above. The party is still going on inside the ballroom. In a lateral direction from where Perona headed is another entrance to the party and one that’s closer to a bar if I remember correctly. I’ll figure out where my guest room is later. That’s a problem for tomorrow’s Maire, along with whatever oblivion-fueled hangover I plan to drink myself into.
Tomorrow? Tomorrow I will focus.