War Of Men

Arcane

Nobody had seen Medea leave. At the time nobody had wanted to, but now Arcane wondered whether it would have given some form of closure.

That night Merari had moved to be in the same room as her. She'd squeezed into bed beside Arcane. Neither of them had slept a wink. Eventually, they'd given up on trying to and had voiced their restless thoughts.

'I always thought it would be one of us that solved it. I never thought we'd just get told...' admitted Merari.

Arcane knew exactly what she meant. 'But... Do you think what Emilee said could be true? About the sixth spirit?'

'I doubt it. It makes no sense for people to have gone on for so long without knowing.'

She supposed it made sense, but she didn't exactly have that much faith in people. After all, magical powers had been destroyed for years and barely anybody seemed to have questioned it.

'I remember Medea taking me to see the vendor... I guess she was gloating about it...'

'Well... What if she is possessed by this destruction spirit and the real Medea came through for a minute? She couldn't tell you about the spirit because... I guess the spirits can't either, so there must be some kind of divine contract. But anyway, maybe she was trying to get you to look into the murder and find it was her?' Merari thought out loud.

'A great lot of good that did.'

The more Arcane thought about it, the more plausible, but confusing everything became. Each answer made Medea's behaviour stranger and stranger.

'We should try to get answers as to whether or not there genuinely is a sixth spirit at the end of the pilgrimage,' said Merari.

'I wonder what people will think. Tiresias keeps saying we'll reintroduce Leere after the pilgrimage, but if we announce the existence of another spirit to...? I wonder if they'll start thinking we're the ones that are possessed.'

'I wouldn't mind being possessed. I bet you just get to have loads of crazy dreams while someone steers your body.'

Arcane snorted. 'If you ask Sorita, I'm sure she'd be happy to oblige.'

Merari wrinkled her nose. 'Urgh.'

In spite of the circumstances, it was nice being alone with Merari again. Arcane wasn't exactly enjoying the pilgrimage, even if Emilee seemed to think so. Being sat in a carriage for hours wasn't exactly fun. It reminded Arcane of her childhood. She used to travel all over the place. Before her other siblings had been born, she had once traveled to Theste with both her mother and father. While her father had met with business partners, her mother had taken her to elven gardens and fairy tale museums.

Eight years with her mother hadn't been enough. Sat alone in the carriage, Arcane would find her mind drifting to Lydia Bay. Ever since her near death experience and the start of her relationship with the Chèr, Arcane began identifying with her mother more and more. She'd often wondered why Lydia had ever married Cassian, but whenever she was with the Chèr, she wondered whether that warm, fuzzy sensation had something to do with it.

Arcane didn't doubt that Gadeden was in part to blame for her sudden increased interest in her mother. While the others had more harmless visions, Arcane kept getting flashes of the past and the future. Neither were particularly pleasant. The past reminded her of her mother's death. Even before her mother had been pregnant with Lilith, her health had suffered. She'd locked herself up in her room. Arcane supposed it had been advantageous. It had meant Arcane had already been forced to learn how to look after herself and her brother.

Every red sunrise in the pilgrimage reminded her of the red stains on the bedsheets. The pale sun was like her mother's skin, lifeless. When a pilgrim cried out, sometimes she thought it was baby Lilith, laying by her mother's side.