Chapter 52
The moment Marshen’s head hit the bed of sand, it pulverised into nothingness. We fell freely.
The riddle was right. Our brave fall was not to the grave.
And thanks to Marshen’s Fae agility, we did not injure ourselves either.
He twisted himself like some acrobatic cat, landing on his two feet before catching me in his arms, the immortal flame still clutched in my right palm.
The thud that followed told me that my bag had joined us as well.
A short laugh of disbelief escaped my mouth.
“Milady,” Marshen said, lowering me to my feet.
“Where are we?” I whispered, spinning around.
I looked up, brow knitted. I lifted the flame towards the ceiling, only to find mahogany rock, the same texture as the floor beneath us, and three of the four walls enclosing us.
The other wall was made of iron. Two giant snakes were embossed centrally, mirroring each other. Their scales felt cool against my fingertips. It was truly a sophisticated wrought embellishment.
“It’s beautiful,” I murmured. I stared at it for a while. “I think it might be a door. Should we try to push it?”
Marshen rested his palms on one of the snakes. I tilted myself sideways, resting my left shoulder against the other snake, feet planted to the ground.
“Push!” Marshen grunted, his arm muscles tense against the wall-door.
“I’m pushing!” I was sure my eyes would pop out of their sockets if I kept at it. “Stop,” I breathed, “It’s not working. Let’s just look around.”
“My lantern and bag are gods know where,” Marshen grumbled.
“At least we have the flame and my bag.”
“Jolly you’re optimistic, considering that most of our food and water was in mine.” He huffed. “Let’s start with the floor.”
We scanned wherever the flame illuminated. After what felt like an eternity, Marshen grabbed hold of my arm and pulled me closer.
“Wait, stop. I think I saw something up there.”
“It looks like some inscription,” I mumbled, moving the flame above my head.
“Can you read it?”
“Not from down here. Lift me up please.”
Marshen held me by my knees while I sat on his shoulder. I balanced as best as I could while moving the flame in snakelike movements. “It looks like another riddle.”
“That’s just wonderful! What does it say?”
Speak of love, speak of despise,
Speak of truth and do not dare lie,
Open your heart to open the door,
Fail to do so and pray for the floor,
Truths about pain and wounds that keep lingering,
Truths about hate for the wounds to keep festering,
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.”
I had to close my eyes. I had never spoken such words out loud before. But the truth was what was needed, and when I searched within my heart and my soul, it was all the truth I could find.
“I wish that Semuel had never left me. Sometimes I think about him, happy and laughing. And when I imagine him, his face, I can tell that he has long forgotten me. And that’s when I feel hate and pain in my heart.”
I paused for a few seconds, taking a deep breath in, then letting out the air through my nose. I didn’t want to admit the next few words. I knew they pained me long before I said them. But if I didn’t speak the truth about what pains me, then what truth was there to speak about?
My lips trembled, and my voice broke with every word.
“I love him. I hate myself for it. Yet I do not think that I can ever stop. I do not think that I will ever heal with time. I don’t think such time exists.
” Salty tears slid down my cheeks, making their way between my lips.
“Despite the envy, the hate, the rage, the constant thoughts, the eternal reminders. Everything I look at, everything I touch, is a reminder of him. Whether it’s the sea, a plant, or simply a cool breeze.
And whenever I think about the things he did for me, the kind ones, my heart starts picking up its own pieces, eager to feel whole once more.
But then my mind takes over. For a small second, my brain reminds my heart of the upsetting words that came out of his mouth.
And my chest aches just as painfully as it did the first time I heard them.
And that’s when it shatters itself into a million pieces, over and over.
My selfish, selfish heart.” Tears turned into sobs, yet I pushed myself to admit one final truth.
“And when I’m alone, at night, drowning in thoughts of guilt, pain, and sorrow, I do not pray.
I do not seek solace in my god, Amfir. My god, which I never felt was mine. ”
I left myself breathless. My eyes stung, reddened.
Red, just like the colour of the snakes’ eyes before us.
Four blood-red rubies shone so bright, the walls around us appeared to shimmer in crimson.
Marshen’s fingers brushed my shoulder, but he retracted his arm as the wall before us trembled.
Both snakes snapped their heads away from us, then slithered along the wall-door.
Their bodies formed symbols. They intertwined, shaping a continuous chain of intricate knots.
After a long dance of swirls and loops, they decided to go their separate ways.
They untied themselves until they were no longer one.
Then chased each other in circular motions.
One ate the other, forming a shimmering halo of bright red.
Ouroboros. A circle that shrunk in size until a small ring—or rather a scaly door handle—remained dangling in the centre of the iron door.
Its scales were adorned with four round rubies, shaped like serpent eyes.
I moved towards it in small steps. I found the courage within me and reached for the handle.
It felt almost alive as a warm pulse throbbed against my palm.
I pulled. And with a creaking sound, the door opened.
I was glad to have hoisted my bag before going through.