The Sight of Blood: Rhen's Story

-3- Dreams

Rhen rubbed at her eyes. For a moment she thought the women were glowing. They began to sway in unison, timing their movements with the chants of the Delerin priests. One by one the nessari fell to their knees but they never stopped swaying. The chanting continued, growing faster. Were the priests increasing the speed of their words in command of their charges, or hastening to keep pace? She could not be sure. Sparks sputtered from the braziers and danced across the cobblestones in a shower of blues and reds. Rhen held her breath and closed her eyes tight, suddenly very aware that she was not supposed to be here.

When she opened her eyes again she saw her mother on her back. The other three women were slumped forward and everything went quiet. One of the Edran had extended a rigid arm outward, signaling the silence. He knelt beside Rhen’s mother and lifted her until their faces were close. Through blurred eyes Rhen could see her mother whisper something. A shiver ran down her spine and without quite knowing why she covered her face and did her best to shut out the world around her.

She became aware of the movement around her. People were leaving, and by some luck she had not been discovered. She stood up and stepped away from her hiding spot, careful to keep as much distance between herself and the center circle as possible. The moon had passed behind clouds and everything was dark now, but she managed to feel along the stone walls until she found the doorway, still open. More luck. Rhen stumbled out of the inner temple, its air still thick with incense and the heat of the braziers, and into the night air. She took a deep breath, still dizzy from the ordeal.  A light rain was falling from the sky. The gentle cadence that sounded as it fell on the tile roofs of the Forest Temple seemed odd after the harsh sounds of ritual.

Rhen had to get back to her room. Her mother would not be pleased when she found their bed empty upon their return, and might discover that she had been spying. Rhen felt her way along the stone paths as best she could, her thoughts racing in all directions. In the back of her mind she still heard the chanting, and her mother’s whispers. She shook her head, trying to focus instead in the rain as its cool droplets hit her skin. Her dress was already soaked through.

Someone grabbed her ankle. Rhen let out a small cry as she fell, turning over to free herself. Small pale hands grappled for anything they could reach through the small grate set in the stone. A voice cried out from the room below. Crawling on hands and knees, Rhen moved over to the grate and looked past it. A woman looked back at her, small and dirty, her clothes so ragged they merely hung from her emaciated frame. Long black hair fell in tangles around her waist. What struck Rhen the most were the scales around her face – blue like her eyes. The woman grasped for her again but Rhen pulled away.

“Please…” Her voice was hoarse and desperate. “The falling water. Let it last.” She smiled, sighing as the rain trickled from the iron and onto her face.

Rhen leaned forward again. “What’s wrong with you?”

A hand pulled her to her feet, dragging her away from the grate. Rhen could hear a mixture of sobbing and laughter from the strange scaled woman locked below. She struggled and looked up, afraid that she had been found by one of the Edran, but it was Trissa who pulled her away into the shadow of a building. The frail woman pushed her against a wall with surprising strength, kneeling in front of her. Rhen tried to look away as she stared at her with those white sightless eyes.

“Did she hurt you, child?” Her voice was strange and awkward. Rhen didn’t know anyone who had ever heard her speak.

Rhen shook her head and then remembered to say, “No.”

“Stay away from the cells, child. They will not hold you.” She stroked Rhen’s hair with a gentle hand. “You have so very far to go yet, child. Go on home and sleep well while there’s time left.”

Rhen broke away and ran until she was at her doorway again. She wished that she had stayed at home like she was told, that she was warm in her bed, long since asleep, dreaming as she always had of the forest and the birds in the treetops. Her head was swimming, dizzy from the smoke and the events of the evening. She opened the door just enough for her to slip inside, closing it an inch at a time so as to remain silent. She needn’t have bothered – her mother lay on their cot, deep in an exhausted sleep. Half of the paint had smeared from her face to her clothing. Rhen crept into bed as quietly as she could manage, still unwilling to disturb her. She drifted to sleep with surprising ease despite what had happened.

She did dream that night, but not of the forest. Her mother lay on a cold stone floor, too weak to move. Rhen rushed to help her but was stopped by the Edran in their hooded robes, all of them chanting as they towered over her. Rhen screamed at them, urging them to let her pass, but the sound of the chanting was too loud for her voice to carry. All around them a wall of fire rose up, threatening to consume them all. Rhen covered her face and closed her eyes.