15. Chapter 15 #2
I had friends in the village, and I spent many good times with them, yet I couldn’t help the drowning feeling that followed me everywhere I went.
I could let loose, drink wine just like the rest of them, but it was then that my defenses against the change beneath the surface fell.
I could feel the rot so much more then, could feel the eyes of my fellow Sorrellians as they watched my demeanor change, and I would find myself thinking of all our home had been through, and all the responsibility I had taken on to make sure we survived.
I could feel the eyes of the villagers on me, no doubt wondering why I wasn’t doing more, why I wasn’t wholly dedicated to my work, spending my every moment trying to get Sorrel back to what it used to be.
It was then that I would often find myself leaving gatherings long before they were over, retreating to my home, the temple, or the Alesi, where I knew no one would bother me.
But maybe all I needed was this—time with someone who saw me as something more than a Mother Blessed. Someone who knew there was more to me than what I could offer to those back home.
The corner of Malik's mouth raised in a slight smile, matching my own. And for the first time in a long time, that drowning feeling was gone, the only thing left was a peaceful quiet in my mind. I felt rooted in place, but not stuck like I had before.
"We shouldn't stay in the water too long," Malik said. "It'll only be that much harder to get used to the cold once we get out."
I nodded, knowing he was right, but wanted to bask in this rare moment of peace for just a little longer. I dipped down into the water one last time, savoring in the warmth before I found the strength to pull myself out of the water, Malik keeping a good few feet away as I redressed.
I knew we couldn't stay there forever, relaxing among this grove of trees.
We had lost a whole day to our run-in with the king's men, and there was no time to be lost when it came to making our way to Rida, but I found myself grateful for the stillness.
I had been at the whim of what Sorrel needed for so long that I had almost forgotten how to sit still.
There was something about being with Malik, too, that made me slow down, my body relaxing in his mere presence. Even now, I could feel my shoulders uncurling, the stiffness in my neck releasing, the tension that had held me for so long finally letting go.
We walked until we found a spot near a cluster of rocks to settle for the night, near a fallen tree that would hide us from anyone coming through this part of the forest.
Malik started on building a fire as I pulled blankets from my pack, wrapping one around my shoulders before turning to study the surrounding nimid trees.
The temperature dropped as the sun set, a chill coming over me as the night winds picked up.
I clutched the blanket I held around me tighter, only for Malik to hold his cloak out to me.
"It isn't clean, but it's warm," he said.
"What about you?"
"I'll be fine. I'll stay close to the fire."
I took his cloak from him, happily wrapping it around me as I settled into the camp.
As we laid under the stars that night, Malik continued to tell me about his time in Uscal—how the sun would rise earlier, how the nights were long but the stars spectacular, and how he found himself sleeping under them more often than not.
“Uscal has its own type of beauty,” he said. “It’s softer, slower. Not easier, as every place has its challenges, but I don’t know how to explain it… I just felt wilder there, less constricted.”
I warmed at his words, even if I could not deny the twinge of sadness deep inside of me at them. At knowing that, despite everything, Malik had still found peace.
"But," he continued, "I still found myself missing home.
There was a cluster of nimid trees on the island, kinder than the Alesi, and often I would go and sit in the forest, imagining I was back here and that you were off somewhere investigating some new discovery and would come join me before I knew it. "
I leaned against the nimid as he talked, his deep voice pulling me in, painting a picture of a place I had never been to before, but could now see clearly in my mind.
In turn, I curled up in front of the fire, wrapping my arms around my knees and setting my chin on top of them, and I told him of Sorrel. I told him how the village had stayed the same, but also how it had changed from our childhood.
"What about Everette?" he asked. "Still a cranky old man?"
I laughed. "Yes, even more so than before, if you can believe it."
There was an easiness in being with someone who knew of home as intimately as I did, even before everything had changed.
And as we talked, I felt something within me unfurl, something that had been wound tight for far too long.
Maybe it was the familiarity, maybe it was the ability to finally drop the mask I had been wearing for so long and let my true self out once again.
Ever since the Shroud, the people of Sorrel had seen me as a commodity, something that could be used for their own benefit.
And maybe that was why it was so easy to leave.
I was dedicated to the duty I had to Sorrel, and I had let myself become shaped by that duty, transforming into someone who even I could barely recognize, and now I desperately wanted to know who I was outside of it.
A long time ago, a different version of myself would have never imagined leaving my home and abandoning my parents, my brother, and all the people who had come to depend on me.
That version of me would have continued to play the part of the dedicated wife to Therian, helping my father strengthen his ties with the king, even to my own detriment.
But I was not that girl anymore, having cast off that duty, and was now lying on the floor of the Alesi, the furthest I had ever been away from home, next to a man who was not my husband.
In that moment, I wondered if that made me a bad person, a bad daughter, a bad wife.
Only time would tell.