Talisman

Chapter 39 - Sybil

Sybil sat in her room looking out the window. The city was alive with the sound of metal being molded into weapons. Soldiers were training day and night in the courtyard below her. Sybil didn't sleep the previous night. Her constant thoughts about the upcoming war kept her awake. She had been staring out the window for the majority of the morning when the door of her room unlocked and opened. Sybil looked to see Irimē entering, a basket on her arm. She was wearing a similar dress to the previous one, only this time it was made of a light brown fabric with leaves of green, red, orange, and yellow covering the skirt and bodice. Irimē smiled and approached Sybil.

"Hello again," Irimē said. "How are your hands?" Irimē sat down next to Sybil and pulled Sybil's hands into her lap.

"Fine," Sybil said as Irimē began to remove the cloth covering Sybil's wounds. Sybil didn't bother telling Irimē that the wounds were healed. She would still insist on looking at them. After a moment the cloth was off both hands showing a pink scar running down Sybil's palms.

"They have healed nicely." Sybil nodded and pulled her hands back into her lap. "I brought you a change of clothes. The ones you are wearing are..." Sybil knew what she looked like. Her clothes were covered in blood and dirt, just feeling the clothing against her skin made her cringe. Irimē didn't finish her statement. She turned to her basket pulling out clean clothes.

"Thank you." Sybil said not looking at the clothing that was sat next to her. Irimē looked at Sybil and reached into her basket. She pulled out a hair brush and reached over and began brushing Sybil's hair. Sybil froze at the sudden contact for a moment before pulling away from the woman. "What are you doing?"

"Your hair is a wreck." Irimē stated. "I am fixing it before you have to cut it all off." Sybil didn't move as Irimē continued to brush through her hair. She hadn't noticed that the tie was missing from her hair and now dark loose waves surrounded her head like a lion's mane. Sybil sat stiffly not moving.

"Why are you doing all this?" Sybil asked quietly, still visibly uncomfortable. Irimē smiled as she replied.

"We have a mutual friend who asked me to look out for you while you were here." Irimē said. Sybil's heart stopped as she snapped her head to look at Irimē.

"What?" Sybil asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Who?" Irimē smiled and set the brush down having finished brushing Sybil's hair. Her hands didn't stay still for long before Irimē began braiding Sybil's dirty hair. Sybil sat silently as her hair was braided. She closed her eyes and imagined it was her mother braiding her hair, like when she was a child. Before she was a priestess. Before Sevren died. Before she left. For the first time in a while Sybil felt at peace. She basked in the feeling until Irimē pulled away from her. Sybil opened her eyes and swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. When Irimē sat back she held out two small mirrors and arranged them so Sybil could see her handywork. Sybil's hair had been pulled into a mass of thin braids and twisted together to create one thick braid that traveled down her back. It was tied off with a thick piece of black cloth that was nearly invisible due to Sybil's dark hair.

"Thank you," Sybil whispered, passing Irimē the mirror. Irimē smiled and placed the mirrors back in her basket.

"Moirai and I have known each other for a very long time." Sybil choked on her words. Moirai? She knew him. How? Did Moirai know she was here?

"How-" Sybil tried to say but the relief washing through her took the words from her mouth.

"We knew each other when we were children. He knew you were here and asked me to keep an eye on you." Irimē explained.

"Can you contact him? Can I speak to him?" Sybil asked hope filling her chest.

"I wish it was that easy."