Blinding Faith

8 Days Until the New Moon

I don't thank him anyways, and I don't say goodbye. The thought of going back out into the snow has conjured up all the emotions I spent the morning stuffing down, and now they are sitting like a ball in my throat preventing me from speaking. So I leave, as silently as I had entered.

Snowflakes land on my skin giving bitter kisses, reminding me of what I'm going to lose. I leave my hood down and let my cloak fly open behind me. The icy sting on my flesh helps to keep me grounded as I make my way home. I keep my head down, refusing to meet eyes with any of my fellow villagers. I feel as though I don't deserve to walk amongst them. Just yesterday I told myself I would stop crying about my future and embrace it, now here I am again, my eyes filled with heathen tears.

"Merry,"

I keep walking, pretending that I didn't hear the familiar voice.

"Merry," Aldon calls again, louder this time, "Merry come over".

There is no way he will believe I didn't hear him. I shouldn't have taken the route that led past his workshop, but I had allowed habit to dictate my steps. He will assume the redness in my cheeks and eyes is from the wind and snow. I take a deep breath, and try to banish the emotions from my face, before turning to face him. He stands inside his little workshop waving me over, Blythe sits on the bench beside him acting as if she hasn't noticed me.

"You weren't going to stop in to say hello," He accuses when I approach, "what's that about?"

"I'm just not feeling very well," I tell him. The words come out naturally, since they're more a half truth than a lie. "I just wanted to go straight home".

Aldon frowns at me, his eyebrows drawing up in concern, "have you caught the flu? Why don't you have your hood up, that's probably how you got sick".

"Relax Aldon," Blythe examines her nails, as if anything is better than looking at me, "she doesn't have the flu, she's just sulking again because she's an ungrateful brat".

Her words sting worse than the cold air. I turn from her to Aldon, waiting for him to say something. He's still looking at me with concern on his face, but he says nothing. At least he doesn't join in on Blythe's judgmental tone. That used to be all I ever hoped for, for him to ignore her hurtful comments and carry on as if he hadn't heard them. I used to be so grateful for him for simply not agreeing with her. But for some reason, today I hoped for more. I wanted him to defend me, and he didn't.

A knock on the door causes Elsie to jump from where she had been curled on my lap. It's likely Aldon or Blythe and I don't want to talk to either of them. I settle back down onto the chesterfield, pulling my blanket up over my head. A few seconds later I hear another knock, followed by the sound of Jeb's voice calling my name. I wipe the tears from my face and try to make myself as presentable as possible. My eyes are puffy and my cheeks are red, there's no way to hide the fact that I've been crying since the moment I arrived home.

His smile fades at the sight of me when I open the door. His eyes rake over me as if he is trying to find a physical cause for my obvious distress.

"I um," he stumbles for words, it must make him uncomfortable to see me in this state, "I thought since I couldn't walk you home from lessons, I'd walk you to prayer".

I nod, grabbing my cloak from where it hangs on the wall.

"I also brought this," he hauls a small dried fish from his pocket, "for Elsie. I've resorted to buying her friendship".

I smile, stepping aside so that he can enter. Elsie is watching him carefully from her usual spot on the back of the chesterfield. Jeb inches closer, the hand with the fish stretched as far ahead of him as he can reach. Elsie's tail swishes back and forth violently, but she doesn't hiss or dart away. She seems more interested than agitated, as she sniffs at the air catching the scent of the fish. Once he's close enough Jeb lays the treat down in front of her, and backs away with his hands help up in surrender, as if he's trying to prove this is an honest offering and not a trick. She devours it immediately, keeping a close eye on Jeb the entire time.

It's stopped snowing and the light blanket of white on the ground is already starting to melt.

"So," we've barely made it off my front lawn when Jeb turns a worried stare to me, "is everything ok with you?"

My first thought is to tell him that I'm fine. I open my mouth ready to lie, but those are not the words that come out.

"It occurred to me this morning, that this was the last first snow fall I will ever see".

He nods, understanding that I'm referring to the fact that I will soon be blinded. I shouldn't have told him that. To be blinded by Lord is an honour and I know I'm not supposed to feel this way. He's probably going to call me an ungrateful brat like Blythe did.

But a part of me doesn't really believe that. I know he should chastise me, if anyone is going to it should be him. He's the future High Priest. But for some reason I feel like he's the only one that might understand my sadness. The admission came out of me so naturally when he asked.

We walked in silence for so long that I thought he wasn't going to respond. Finally he turned to me, and I held my breath waiting for him to speak.

"Next year when the first snow falls I will come and get you right away. I'll guide you outside so that at least you can feel it crunching under your feet and melting on your tongue. I promise".