Heart Asunder (Dear Dahlia Season 2)

Chapter 22

CONTENT WARNING: Physical violence

Saida led Dahlia through the woods. After realising that their parents had most likely not traveled to the Sikurzoi, the sisters had started back towards Kribursk.

"They could be there," Dahlia had insisted, before they'd decided to continue back the way they'd come.
"No," Saida had responded with a shake of her head. Something in her heart told her their parents were in fact farther from them than they'd ever been. Dahlia had sighed, but said nothing as they'd resumed their journey.

The two of them walked in silence. Saida thought about her power. After ten years, she still hadn't mastered it. What was blocking her? She'd been one of the most powerful heartrenders at the Little Palace, but she couldn't raise a baby's heartbeat without pushing herself. Something had to be done. She was running out of options.

That evening, Dahlia and Saida camped. There were no howls from any predators. Saida guessed the niche'voya that used to prowl here must have scared them off.

"Do you think Kirigan's really at the Sikurzoi?" Dahlia asked. "I mean, what if we've left them behind?"
Saida chewed on the duck meat, swallowed. Before, she'd told Dahlia to follow her, not trust her, assuming that they'd patch this up at some point during the quest to find their parents. Now, even though she felt she had to ask it, she wasn't sure Dahlia would trust her. Had they really not gotten better?
Instead, Saida replied, "I just know. I don't think they'd travel to the Sikurzoi without sending some kind of...thing."
"Like a letter?" Dahlia asked. Saida's heart twisted in her chest on hearing that word.
"Yeah. A letter."

When the sky had darkened and Dahlia was asleep in the tent, Saida stared at the knife made of durast steel that she'd stashed in her bag, and turned it over in her hands. Beside her, the fire crackled. Ever since they'd stopped here, Saida had felt something was watching her - the same thing that had made the hairs stand on the back of her neck. She stood. The heartrender had an inkling about what it was.

Saida stepped into a clearing, a little way away from her and her sister's tent. There was a strange noise, and Saida turned, clutching the knife. A red fox stared at her from the bushes, and Saida recognised it as the one she'd encountered ages ago, back when Dahlia and her were venturing through here to get to the Sikurzoi.

The fox was tense. It stared at the weapon in Saida's hand. The heartrender could feel the power coursing through the fox's veins. She just knew that she had to be the one to take it.

Saida leapt.

The fox stood on its hind legs, no doubt ready to attack. Saida made contact with the animal and rolled. The amplifier snarled. Saida grabbed its neck and forced it up, aiming to cut its throat, but the fox sent a powerful kick, and Saida was sent tumbling to the ground. She groaned and got to her feet.

The fox leapt at her, jaws bared, and Saida only had a few moments to put her arm up. Saida threw her forearm into the animal's stomach, but its jaws left marks on her arm. Saida didn't cry out, even through the pain. She'd been taught not to during combat training, even when the pain felt unbearable. Tears came to her eyes, which made her vision blurry, but she could still see the fox coming.

Saida rolled out of the way just as the animal tried to barge into her. It snarled again, and Saida and the fox circled each other. The heartrender was breathing heavily, but she managed to pull out a small trap, and kept it in her hand. She would have argued it was strategic to wait, but something held her back from just killing the fox now.

Saida faltered for a moment. To kill another being for personal gain...that was the goal for all grisha, was it not? To amplify their power. Amplifiers were needed to be strong, to stand out. Without them, you were weaker.

Saida's and the fox's eyes were locked for what felt like an eternity. The heartrender was keenly aware of every small movement the amplifier made: the swish of its tail, the baring of its claws. They both saw each other as a threat. Maybe that was the true relationship of grisha and amplifier - one of wariness and eventual demise. Saida readied the trap. She wasn't about to wait to find out which one would die.

The fox bristled. Saida watched it carefully. Then, it sprung, and the heartrender threw the trap, which latched onto the forest floor. The fox tried to escape, but its tail and front paw were caught. It howled in anguish, trying to pull away. There was no way it would be able to.

Saida approached the fox. She could do this. She needed this amplifier. She would find a fabrikator to fuse its bones to her wrist, or her arm, and she could finally stabilise her power.

Saida knelt down and looked at the animal. The fox stared up at her with wide, almost innocent eyes. No. No, when had it become innocent to her? It was just an amplifier - a thing that needed to be killed.

The heartrender gripped the knife in her hand tighter, and suddenly, violently, a memory resurfaced. It was of her and Rahim sitting at a table.

"Do you understand? You do not kill any animal," she heard her father say. "Only for food, or to stop it from harming others. Anything else is haraam."

Haraam. The word echoed in her mind. Saida felt herself losing her focus. She tried to regain it, but it was like that one word had shifted everything. Haraam meant forbidden. Was Saida forbidden? There surely wasn't anything in the Qur'an about grisha. Maybe she was never meant to be. But she was, and now she had the solution to her power right in front of her. Surely that wasn't forbidden in Allah's eyes?

Saida could feel her resolve slipping away, bit by bit. It doesn't apply to me, the heartrender thought desperately. But even that felt terribly wrong.

Saida raised the knife.
YOU ARE GRISHA, her mind screamed.
But, through the chaos, came a tiny voice in the back of her head. You're Muslim first.

Saida stared at the fox lying on the ground. Her breath trembled. She steeled her grip around the handle. Then, she brought the knife down and plunged it into the earth, millimeters from the fox's tail.

The heartrender rested her forehead on the end of the knife's hilt. Through her tears, she saw that she'd broken the trap, setting the animal free. Saida raised her head. The fox had escaped. The amplifier turned and looked back at her, seemingly grateful for sparing its life, before darting away into the bushes.

Saida stared at the place where the trap lay. She slowly stood. She didn't take the knife; her hands were shaking. The heartrender wanted to be angry at herself that she'd let go the only amplifier she'd found, but she could think about a different solution: practising her power. Lowering and raising her heartbeat. It would be hard, and sometimes punishing, but she felt in her heart that she would be just fine.

Saida looked up at the sky. She couldn't find it in herself to say it out loud, so she whispered, "thank you."

As the heartrender made her way back to the camp, she swore she could hear her whisper being carried away in the wind.