Grave (Work in Progress)

Chapter 3.1-Leilia-Change of Heart

It took every ounce of sanity I had not to think about Stuart, the rats ripping apart what had been left of him, probably killing him in the first place, and me, not even slowing them down. I could keep a straight face when it mattered, but when no one was around, I was an absolute mess. After that night, I didn’t leave my room for days, except to go to work and check on Pene. School was miserable, what with Jennings flinging paperwork in my face every hour and bugging me for updates on the daily escapades of Kyrce Sirula.

“He’s doing fine,” I reported every day, which was only a half-truth. In reality, he was as wrecked as I was, only better at hiding it. While he appeared “business as usual” to everyone who didn’t know better, the professors noted that he would drift off in class more often than usual. When Jennings caught wind of it, she demanded that I find out what his deal was. I wondered why she cared so much, but by that point I had too much on my mind to even think of questioning her.

I found Kyrce in the library on his free period, at the long table behind one of the tall shelves. He was slumped over a huge demonology book filled with diagrams and anatomical references, his face buried in his hands.

“You’re not crying, are you?” I asked, jolting him out of his train of thought. He had dark circles under his eyes, but no tears or puffiness. “The professors have been complaining about your attention span. This stuff still affects you like this after this long?”

His eyes narrowed. “Of course it does.”

I hadn’t expected such a harsh reaction. “Well, you’ve been at this hunting thing for what, since you were a kid? I mean, how often does this happen?”

“More often than I’d like. But no matter how many times it does, it’s going to hurt. I’m still human, Lei. I’m not heartless.”

“That’s what you think I’m trying to say?” I sighed. “How do you deal with it then?”

He thought for a moment before answering, “I think of who I have helped. Who I can help. I can’t change the past, but I can change the future. So I’ll keep getting hurt if it means I can save even one person.”

I couldn’t imagine myself in the same situation. I’d never lived for anyone but Pene and myself, and after she had been taken from me, there hadn’t been much of a reason for me to keep living. Hell, I was barely living now. I had no real goals, nothing to call my own. Until that package had come, I had been frozen in limbo, fallen into a routine. I became ice cold.

“I’m sorry that I offended you,” I said.

Kyrce smiled weakly. “I’m sorry too. For making you come with me.”

“I’ve been worse. You can make it up to me by staying focused. Otherwise, my boss will chew my ear off and I’ll never see the light of day again.”

“Alright, I’ll do my best,” he said, but before hitting the books again, he added, “I still think we’d make a good team.”

“Yeah, me too.” Although I wasn’t totally convinced yet.

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“This room is so bland,” I thought, staring at the white wall beside my wooden bed. “Yet I still can’t get any sleep.” Decorating might have passed some time, but the priestesses would kill me if I so much as hung a crayon drawing on the ceiling. The best I could do was rearrange the furniture, and as there were only three objects total-a table, a small bookshelf, and the bed-I had already considered all the possible combinations.

Hurried feet and panicked voices echoed from the hall. Odd. When the younger priestesses were going to be late for the early morning sermon, this was common, but today wasn’t a holy day. Still, a fuss was bound to be more exciting than another rousing game of four corners with a table. I opened my door and crawled along the wall to avoid being barreled into by a dozen priestesses.

On the steps outside, the priestesses crowded together, gaping at the sea of huge black and brown rats toiled across the courtyard, squeaking and sobbing with a force that could shake the planet to its core, knock the moons from the sky. The funeral procession of the Animi. The rat in the front carried a makeshift black flag over his shoulder, the tattered fabric quivering with each step. The one behind him-I recognized him as Harry Templeton-clutched a shoebox marked with the goddess’s symbol in his hands, a pathetic little coffin for his son.

The spell was broken. One priestess shrieked. Another tore off her shoe and hurled it into the crowd. A few chased after them with sticks. Unfazed, the Animi continued their slow march, their cries rising in volume.

I rushed into the crowd, grasping onto one of the girl’s wrists. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

“Can’t you see? They’ve come up from the sewers, the wretched beasts! They know that this is sacred ground, where they’re not welcome,” she screamed, flailing her tree branch in the air wildly. I was afraid she would turn it on me next, but I’d rather she beat me than one of the Animus.

There was little I could do to stop them, besides provide a distraction when a priestess got near an Animus. Why did they hate them so much? We were all blessed by Aion, weren’t we? My father couldn’t have been wrong. Eventually, the priestesses chased the Animi to the end of temple grounds, cheering as the last rat disappeared into the hedges. A girl in red waved a piece of cloth in the air as if it were a symbol of great victory. It was the flag that the lead rat had been carrying. Soon they grew tired though and tossed the cloth in the dirt, returning to their daily life of servitude to the goddess, Creator of Life.

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When the sun was sinking into the sea, I climbed the hill beyond the church grounds. The Animi had formed a circle under a tree, singing a song in a language I couldn’t speak. It cut off abruptly when I slipped over along the outside. I showed them my bundle to prove I meant no harm-the black cloth and a lily I had stolen from the temple garden. Slowly, the circle broke apart, allowing me inside.

The shoebox was below ground now, its place kept by a single stone. Here lies Stuart. Rest in pieces. I laid the flower and the cloth beside the rock and stepped back. As I turned to leave, a paw tugged at my hand. My eyes met with Harry Templeton’s. He was inviting me to join their circle.

I didn’t know the words to the song they chanted, but the melody felt familiar. I thought that it might mean something like “thank you”.