Errant

The Why

There is a sense of finality as I wake up in the middle of what I assume is the next night, with a massive headache and Rowan sleeping quietly on the couch in his quarters. Morran is Errant, and he now knows what I am. There's no avoiding the eventual confrontation, with our final trial today.

I consider staying in Rowan's chambers until he wakes up so I can thank him for once again saving my life, but fear and agitation gnaws at me, threatening to bubble over in the form of my Errancy. I let out a quiet, resigned breath as my feet touch the cool stone floor beneath the bed. There's almost no point in hiding what I am anymore, but the threat of what might happen without restraint is enough to keep me shoving that power down deep inside of myself.

I glance at Rowan, his face softened by sleep. If I live through this trial, maybe he can teach me to use this power, for better or worse. Maybe it can become a blessing instead of a curse.

Traipsing from his room with barely a whisper on the floor, I make my way to the only place in the underground where I might be more terrified than I already am.

Quinn finds me by the water after our first wake up call, forcing myself through yet another session in what has become somewhat of a habit over the last few weeks. My back is already drenched through with cold sweat, and a tremor runs through my body as I stare into the blackness of the lake. Rowan has finally managed to teach me the basics of staying afloat, but he can't take away the choking, nagging fear of the water itself. He can't teach me to be brave.

Quinn sits down on a rock next to me, and stares ahead without comment. I hug my knees to my chest to calm the shaking, and stare woodenly at the waterfall. How can something that is so deadly to me be so full of life? With the trials so close, I almost dared to believe that my fear of water would seem trivial. But my fears only magnify each other, and I can no longer run from any of them. The shaking begins again as my stomach twists itself into knots.

"Why do you do this to yourself?" Quinn asks, his voice quiet. "This isn't healthy, Kess. At least come eat something."

"Not hungry."

"Oh, please," he says. "We're always hungry."

"I'm serious. Give my plate to Mara. She needs it more than I do, anyway." Mara is rail-thin, and as far as I'm concerned, she can't possibly eat enough.

"Kess—"

"No."

"Then at least tell me why you do this," he says. "It's crazy."

A small, strangled laugh bubbles up from my throat. Why do I do this? Why do I force myself, day after day, to face my fear when it leaves me sick for hours afterward? Today I need my strength—the trials ahead won't be pleasant— and yet I'm still here, cold and sweating, my body already weak from the exertion.

"What about you?" I ask, changing the subject. "Why stay down here at all? The Resistance isn't exactly a walk in the park."

Quinn picks up a flat stone, turning it carefully in his hands before chucking it across the water. It skips several times before finally plummeting into the water. I fight a bout of nausea as the rock sinks into the depths of the lake. I focus instead on the small smile that crosses his face. It's strange, seeing only a partial smile on Quinn's normally beaming face. Maybe it is an indicator that his life here has not been as happy as his constant grin would have us all believe. Maybe Quinn, like me, constantly questions himself for joining. Maybe he spends sleepless nights wondering what kind of person the Resistance is turning him into.

"No special reason," he says. "I've had a good life. I've grown up with plenty of food, since my family sold out to the Errant. I was happy."

"So why put yourself through any of this?"