Black Heart

10. The Ultimate Decision

***

WHEN I WAS OLD ENOUGH TO READ, Grandmother had invited the High Priestess into our home to teach me how to pray. Every day, the High Priestess would come with her holy book in hand, written in a language I did not understand. This is the language of the deities, she said. No one remembers it. But I do. She promised that I would too if I listened to her. At first, I did not understand why I was the only one who needed to learn when Valentina could go out as she liked, not needing to be subjected to the High Priestess's lessons. It did not occur to me that there were differences between me and her.

     It was during the Des Vo Festival when I first disobeyed Grandmother. During the festival, children would gather in the town square and celebrate. They played games, won prizes and spent the night in high spirits. My young mind longed for that kind of reprieve from praying and fasting. I escaped the High Priestess to come to the town square where Valentina waited for me.

     It did not take long before Grandmother's servants found me. When I was forced to go home, Grandmother had me beaten. I could remember Valentina's pale face as she watched the whip land on my back with a resounding snap. She did not say a word nor did she beg Grandmother to stop even though she knew that Grandmother listened to her requests. She was afraid, I knew that. However, I couldn't help but resent her for her weakness.

     After the brutal lashings, Grandmother had dragged me back to my rooms. She squeezed my shoulders with her bony hands, nails digging into my flesh. I was too afraid of her to make any protests. I couldn't even manage a whimper. I suffered it in silence. When we were inside my room, with no one listening, she crouched to level my height. Her eyes flashed with a kind of panicked urgency I couldn't comprehend.

     "Elizaveta," she rasped. "You have to understand that what you did today must never be repeated."

     I was too scared to speak so I nodded instead.

     Grandmother reached to touch my cheek, gently, as though I was Valentina. She shook her head. "No, you don't understand."

     But I do, I wanted to say. Even though I didn't.

     "Elizaveta, you should be dead," she said, not realizing that her words were unkind. "When you were born, you died. However, your mother borrowed a heart for you so you can live. The heart belongs to a demon. Do you know what a demon is?"

     "Yes," I answered. The High Priestess told me what they were. Enemies of the deities. Enemies of men.

     "If you do, then you understand that you are not entirely human. There are remnants of his power inside of you. It protects you. At the same time it will harm those around you, one way or another. That is why you must pray and pray. You must listen to the High Priestess so you don't harm anyone. Do you want to hurt your father? Valentina?"

     I shook my head frantically.

     "One day he will come for you. He will come to take back his heart," she went on, looking at me with a grim expression. "We cannot allow that, Eliza. We cannot allow him to regain his strength and terrify us once more. That is why you must not step out. It is safe here. Here, he won't be able to reach you. Here, you will do your duty to your people."

     The evidence of the demon's heart would materialize a day later when the maid tasked to attend to me noticed how the scars from the lashings on my back disappeared completely without a trace. It was then did I realize why I healed faster than normal, why when I caught the plague as a child, I survived not a week later. It protects you.

     I understood that she was not worried about my life. She was worried that the demon would become powerful once more and terrorize the people of Izarra.

    "All of us know that what we did was necessary for safety," Grandmother had said when she tried to justify throwing me to the demon's woods to die. She wanted the demon's heart to be ripped in pieces, devoured by the reviling vedraza so the demon won't have it back. She wanted the people to be safe at the expense of her own granddaughter.

     I wanted to understand her actions. Grandmother was the matriarch of one of the longest standing noble family that protected Izarra. Her own daughter was a Mage. She dedicated all her life to protect our people. But still, my evil heart couldn't, didn't, want to understand. Why can't she love me best? Why must she sacrifice her own flesh and blood?

     Looking at the general's expectant expression now, I deflated. He did not know the true nature of the demon. What he asked of me was the same as asking for my death. Finding the Izarri demon meant my certain death. When the demon and I meet, he would come to take what is his.

     But...

     General Azra thought we could stand a chance. With the demon weakened, it was possible to contain it. Its body will be used for experiments, it could help save us all.

     I searched his youthful face, wondering if this young general could do what his predecessors could not. Should I trust him to take the demon before it takes me? Should I trust him with my life?

     But what is the worth of your life, Eliza? You were a mistake. An abomination. Your own family wanted you dead. Your very existence is a danger to everyone. Isn't it better if you died in that woods?

     "Yes," I said quietly.

     He smiled, satisfied. He reached for my hand with his gloved ones, the tips brushing on my knuckles. It was the Izarri gesture of thanks. It surprised me that he knew something like that. Regardless, I returned it.

     If he succeeds, then perhaps I would have a chance at life. If he did not, I would take a blade and plunge it in my heart before the demon takes it back.

***

I changed into my nightgown, climbed onto the high bed, slid beneath the silks and stared at the darkness. It seemed to stare back at me. Distantly, I heard a door closing, the hum of the engine, soft murmurs of good nights, shifting of boots and the clank of metal against metal. The sound was foreign to me since I was used to the unsettling quiet back in Izarde. I sharpened my senses, trying to find the familiar wicked presence of the vedraza but there were none. Well, we were in the middle of the sea. Still, it felt strange. It felt lonely. I would never admit it out loud but somehow, their constant presence made me feel as though I had companions, evil they may be.

     I predicted that the night would not offer me a peaceful sleep. I tossed and turned, finding a comfortable position but even if I did, it was impossible to lull myself to sleep when my erratic mind kept whirling. I tried to murmur prayers but it did not help. My mind circled back to Sarzoe where those men took me away. One of them had my dagger. Though I only owned it for a few minutes, I felt its absence. The dagger felt right, like it was part of me, a blade that was destined to be mine. It did not make sense but nothing else did.

     I preferred not to be alone tonight. Being alone would leave me with my thoughts and it wasn't a pretty place. I tried to smother whatever love I have left for my family but still, my heart hurt. I tried to focus on my anger but now, I was wallowing in grief. Valentina's eager smile, Father's quiet support and even Grandmother's strict guidance—I mourned them. They were all I had.

     I wonder, does the demon's heart feel love? I always think that I loved my family but was that even possible when the most revolting creature lived inside of me?

     What was my demon doing tonight, I wonder? Did he feel the empty chasm in his chest? Questions spun in my mind like wheels of thread even though there was no answer to be given. But one thing was certain, I hoped the demon was lonely. I hoped the demon felt this hollow desolation like I do. It would seem fair.

     Oh no. The voice slid in my conscience like a serpent. I am not lonely. I have you.