Luminous

23 - Confessions

Silence returned to the bedchambers. Coris freed Meya from his embrace after a kiss of gratitude, and she succumbed instead to the soft arms of the goose-down bed as her breathing slowed.

Coris lay on his back by her side, his eyes closed, his bare chest heaving. Meya reckoned the lad would just nod off the way he did yesterday, but he rolled over to face her,

"Ari, I'm so sorry."

He said softly, reminding Meya of the score they must settle. A dull pang of hurt pummeled her heart. She ignored it.

"For what?" Meya retorted coolly, "Lying to me about The Axel, or choosing Zier over my antidote?"

"Does it make any difference?" Coris's tired voice was labored by guilt.

"Of course it does!" Meya snapped, incredulous. Coris recoiled.

"I have a brother myself," Three, actually, "If you did it purely to protect Zier, I don't blame you one whit, but if it's for The Axel, I can't possibly decide until you tell me what that stupid Axel really is!"

Coris fell silent, his eyes downcast. He clenched his hand on the pillow, twisting the fabric in his bony grasp.

"So, which is it? The Axel or your brother?" Meya prodded, impatient. His eyes rose to meet hers. His parched lips stretched into a wry, bitter grin.

"I—I don't know." He smiled, laughed even as his eyes cried. Meya's heart broke for him despite herself.

"With The Axel inside Zier, with them inseparable like this, I couldn't even tell anymore."

Coris trembled. He tugged at the bedcovers as if he longed for something to hold onto.

"The things I've done. The choices I've made. The lives I've traded." He whispered, shaking his head, his eyes dead and unseeing,

"There are times I'd give anything to know what they're for. I'm afraid I'll drop dead one day never knowing why, but I'm afraid to know the truth, too. I might know I've been making the wrong decisions my entire life, sacrificed so much for something not worth protecting."

Tears fell onto the pillowcase, glinting in the firelight. Coris rubbed his cheek against the fabric to dry them. Meya's fury calmed as she witnessed his dilemma. She had heard her unspoken voice echoing to her in his words, had seen her hidden wounds reflected in the pain in his eyes. She wasn't that different from him. There were times, several times, she wondered if she should've just done nothing, chosen nothing, instead of trying and failing and suffering. But, in the end, she couldn't help choosing to do something, to try nevertheless. Even as nobody else did.

Meya moved her hand hesitantly to cover his, caressing the cold skin stretched taut over his knuckles with the pad of her thumb.

"The people of Crosset believed the Crosset Famine was brought about by a little peasant girl," she said softly. Coris's weary eyes slid to her.

"She was ten years old. She worked in the fields back when farming was forbidden by law for women. Her family has four daughters. They were struggling. She wanted to help. She didn't believe it would anger Freda. She wanted to prove a point. Well, apparently, it did. Hundreds of people died in that famine, after all."

Coris's eyes widened at the horrific tale. Still, Meya's face remained dead, her haunting eyes staring ahead as she recounted her shameful past. After a deep sigh, she turned back to Coris,

"What do you see? A noble little girl who wants to help her family? An arrogant heretic who wants to challenge Freda? Or the murderer of hundreds of villagers?"