Chapter 14 #2
The intricate compass has eight points on the outside, four longer ones representing direction and four smaller ones between representing the seasons.
Each thick orienting arrow has lines and dots within its spire.
At one point, I'm sure they meant something important. Inside the large circle is what represents the dial, a smaller more symmetrical version of the direction arrows sits between the names of our four Gods. On the real ones, the inner dial would turn with the seasons and times. Once, I suppose, magic did it automatically, and then humans took up the job. The differences are subtle between this depiction and the ones that sit in the churches. The markings among the inner prongs that symbolize the Gods’ affinities are there, but instead of a hollow middle, there are more symbols.
I squint my eyes. What are those?
"Do you like it?" I yelp, nearly jumping out of my skin at the old woman's sudden nearness. She looks at me with that same mischievous grin from earlier.
"I do like it, it’s different from the ones I've seen at the temples," I say cautiously, still studying it.
"But you have seen this one before," she hums, not a question.
I begin to respond, but again I hesitate, a pit growing in my stomach I can't place. The old woman just nods.
"I thought so," she seems to say to herself.
"I'm Maple, by the way. I don't think we got your name?"
We lock eyes for a moment, and the old woman's features soften.
"I'm Sibylla, but my friends call me Sibs."
Sibylla sits down in one of the dust-covered chairs with some difficulty.
"Well Sibs," Leo starts, "Aren't you a little nervous about having all this... contraband in your house?" He holds up the figurine he's scooped from the shelf. Sibs shrugs and stares at her untouched tea.
"No one bothers an old woman like me anymore.
I do what I want. If it's my time, it's my time.
" She seems so casual about everything, but the more I look around, the more uncertain I become.
Where did she get all this stuff? Surely someone in the community would have told on her by this point, especially if she allows strangers in so freely.
Polite chatter fills the small room as we sip our tea. I can tell Farra is ready to get going, so I offer to tidy up. I take everyone's mugs to the sink and Leo and Farra give the woman their thanks before heading to the door.
Sibs catches my arm as I pass her, more firmly than I would have thought possible, given her physical condition. Icy blue eyes lock with mine, and I almost flinch at the intensity radiating from her.
"Come back anytime. An old woman like me loves to chat about her good, old glory days." She gives me a wink. "Not much else going on, anyway."
I cock my head in question. She says it like she's offering something other than a simple chat, but she just gives me a subtle nod.
Glancing at the relic on the wall one last time, I say goodbye and walk out with my friends, wondering if I'll ever have the courage to come back and ask the questions I want answered.
"Well, that was kinda... odd, wasn't it?" I say with a shaky laugh as we walk back towards the compound.
I wonder if either of them felt the same things I had when we were in there. It was like homesickness for a place I'd never seen before.
Farra nods, twirling her lanyard with her key tags in her hand. "Yeah she was spooky, honestly."
Leo snorts. "Well, I liked her and all her little trinkets. Like being taken back in time. It was neat."
I bob my head, not wanting to say too much more on the street. The people that had crowded the church there earlier had all dispersed throughout the joining streets, only further stirring my desire to get back to the dorms.
When we pass the area again, I look over and see the clergy member still there, standing in the exact same spot by the doors. With the same satisfied look on his face that I'd seen before, and I shudder as I lean away from the darkness that seems to reach out at us from the building.
I scarf down my food, deep in thought at the table, when Leo plops down beside me, slamming his tray down dramatically.
"Guess what?" He grins.
Across from me, Berkley is trying to read, and gives Leo a disapproving look, mumbling something before going back to his book.
Leo ignores the grumble from across the table and says gleefully, "I've moved off janitorial! It's the best news ever. I'm now on wall patrol. Which I've heard is basically just sitting around, watching stuff."
Leo's is practically vibrating with excitement, and I can't imagine why. Standing around and staring blankly at stuff sounds like my nightmare.
"Wait, why did you get moved? Did you get fired, Solano?" I question Leo.
Berk grumbles something like "probably", but keeps his head hidden in his book.
"Actually, they needed to move people around after that cadet died."
Everyone's eyes shoot towards Tarius, who I'm embarrassed to say I'd not even noticed sitting quietly at the end of the table. I'm the first to say what we're all thinking.
"How long have you been sitting there?" What I don't say is that Tarius is like a shadow, and it can be downright unnerving.
He blinks back at me.
"I sat down right after you did."
Leo eyes him and says matter-of-factly, "I'm going to bribe engineering to make me a bell for you, so you're easier to keep track of."
I laugh, but finally register what Tarius had originally said.
"Wait, which cadet?" I had heard nothing, and there had been no incidents reported in the weekly briefs.
"The one from the tower. He passed the other day. I heard the med cadets talking about it." He says this while shoveling food into his mouth, another meal of oatmeal mash, completely emotionless.
"I'd assume that's why Leo got moved. He was a patrol."
My eyes roam Tarius curiously.
"You seem to always have extra information. Why is that?"
I hope my question doesn't come off as accusatory. I'm actually impressed. I've always prided myself on being overly aware of people, but Tarius puts me to shame.
"People tend to not notice me... they also speak loudly." He shrugs, but it looks a little pained. I'd imagine it doesn't feel great to be completely invisible.
When I'd blended in at home, it was a choice. It never stung because I knew I had people to love who loved me back. With Tarius, it seems like he's used to being invisible.
Leo looks at him, impressed.
"Well, I'm glad you're on our crew, Tarius. It's like we have our own personal spy," I say honestly.
I smile at him, and I catch his posture straightening a little.
I still wonder about him, he moves differently than the rest of us; I realize.
Like perhaps he's from another world. Through chatting I learned Tarius has been alone most of his life.
He reminds me of Linden a little––if Linden didn't have an obnoxious and overbearing family.
I wonder, if Lind had been left to his own devices, if he would've become a shadow, too.
We finish up eating and I hear Berkley grumble about why a small man-child is being moved to patrol while a former trained officer is washing dishes for a tyrant.
I’m too excited about my shift at the library to care about Berkley and Leo’s bickering, so I finish and say a quick goodbye before hurrying out.
I head down through the sterile halls towards the training pit.
When the white walls become an earthier brick, my breaths come out a little easier, my steps feeling lighter.
I can’t place it, but the first time I came down here during orientation, I’d felt my muscles loosen.
I’ve never loved academia like my family, but there is something undeniably calming about being surrounded by books.
Reading is one of the few forms of entertainment we’ve kept alive in New Providence. Growing up, I always loved to read, not history or medicine, just stories. Stories about monsters and heroes, about good and evil.
It reminds me of my family.
I can practically hear Willow’s voice as I’m stacking books, telling me to be careful with the spines and place them gently.
I can imagine Linden’s curious, wide eyes when I put a book about muscle functions back on the shelf.
I can even let myself imagine my dad’s excitement looking through the aisles.
He’d never leave this place if he could help it.
I’ve sent and received a few letters from home since I’ve been here. It’s comforting to see their writing and hear about what's going on at home, but it all feels… superficial. We knew before I left that officials go through all the mail, so we’re careful with our words.
It makes sense that they go through everything. It's an easy way to stop a rebellion, but it still feels like an intrusion. I’m not about to spill intimate thoughts with my siblings when I know some stranger’s reading them. So we’ve kept things simple.
A pit forms in the bottom of my stomach if I stop to dwell on how much I miss them.
I’ve only heard from Deacon once. It was short and.
.. almost awkward, even though it was just a letter.
It felt like a letter you'd get from an acquaintance.
He'd opened with "The weather's been terrible.
" No, "Hey sorry we got intimate and then I got weird.
This is how I'm feeling". Just a weather report and some weird small talk.
I’ve replayed our last visit over and over in my head since I got to The Centre.
I sway between being grateful, confused, and downright annoyed at the whole thing.
Grateful that after years of pining, I finally got the opportunity to express that a little.
Grateful for his friendship even; often it was the only source of normalcy in my life.