Heba
Irises have been strewn across my path for days now. Each flower appearing where I least expect it; floating on my bath water, resting beneath my sheets, or descending from the heavens into my hands. My cheeks ache from the joy each flower has summoned up within me. There is little question who these flowers are from, the dark ribbon fastened around each stem bearing his mark. His shadow colored armor reflected in each strand of the ribbons creating an exquisite binding for my growing bouquet which will never wilt.
He has been watching me, lingering in the shadows just beyond my vision. I'm uncertain of his reasoning for lingering and spying. I would like to say it stems from a place of concern, but Hartema is not in possession of a one-track mind, there is always a secondary or tertiary motive he keeps close to his chest. If we are ever presented with the opportunity to play a card game, I imagine he would be quite the card shark, his strategic mind finding yet another outlet for its gifts.
"The final challenge should be upon us soon." The open air carries my voice over the edge of my balcony before taking flight in the rising current of heat reflecting off the sand. "I suppose you already have your theories on what this challenge will be."
My voice drops with the wind, creating a vacuum of silence that consumes me. I can feel the weight of his gaze even through this haze of silence. Perhaps he hopes to convince me of his absence, convince me to feel embarrassment for speaking my thoughts so openly to the wind. No. He isn't unkind like that, nor would he employ such childish methods, his emotional and mental age would have to be brought to question if he were to choose childish antics over direct communication. Lips twitching in amusement, I resign myself to patience. Playing his game is the only effective option and I have nothing but time.
"Whatever it is, it will not be an easy feat for you." His voice rumbles in my ear like a passionate whisper shared between lovers, his proximity offering little room for negotiation as his voice pins me in place. Chills race across my skin as his lack of physical presence stuns and exhilarates me. His tenor resonating in my bones as I hold myself upright by pressing my palms firmly into the bannister, refusing the sudden weakness in my legs summoned by his voice. "I will expect your best."
"You're right." I muse, resting my chin in my palm as I cast my gaze adrift, ignoring the feverish burn beneath my skin. "I can't fathom why they continue with these challenges. You are already in possession of the lead, even if I am capable of winning this final challenge it will only result in us needing a tiebreaker."
"They're becoming desperate. You should prepare yourself for their interference."
My nails tap against stone as I consider Isis's words, her desperation. There may be some truth to his warning, but I am no longer foolish enough to rely solely on my affection for him and consider that to be equivalent to trust. Hartema has made it blatantly clear that he will do anything and everything within his power to obtain his birthright, a claim we both share, a fact that strains any sense of trust that I can foster towards him. He will attempt to manipulate me. There is little doubt in my mind that he will use such a tactic, the gifted flowers themselves could be the first step to alter my course.
I have to trust my instincts. No one will defend me when this challenge is over, Hartema has already expended what little grace he holds, nor will the gods look kindly upon me if I allow myself to be swept up in his motives. As much as it pains me I have to remain neutral to his cause and the dictations of the gods, the only plans I can commit myself to now are my own.
"You really believe they would manipulate their own game?"
"These challenges were never the focus." His voice rumbles like thunder, my skin tingling as I imagine the heat of his breath ghosting the shell of my ear. "They are merely a distraction to make you feel as if you have accomplished some great feat, denying the reality where they have stacked the odds in favor of your victory from the beginning."
"If you genuinely believe that, then why do you fight? Why put yourself through unnecessary trials?"
"I deserve what the circumstances of my birth have denied me, and I am determined to have it. The interference of the gods won't be enough to stop me."
A chill races down my spine as his words throw me back into the bitter spiral of painful memories. His willingness to sacrifice himself to a demon still chills my blood, the nightmares of what could have been his slaughter has haunted my step ever since the first challenge. His foolish and impulsive instinct to cast his life aside in the pursuit of his ambitions makes him dangerous.
"I don't have a family."
Those had been the last words he spoke to me before he shut himself off, thrust me behind an impenetrable wall with no explanation or hesitation. How many nights had I cried myself to sleep over such a failure, such a fissure in his already fragile trust? Glancing over my shoulder, I hoped to see him there, standing beside me. But there is nothing but open air. I am alone to remember the way his tender expression had crumbled into one of fury and betrayal. I was certain with such a look on his face I had forced him to sever all ties with me, but that no longer seems to be the case. A bitter man would never pull me from the fire rather than watch me burn, a hateful man wouldn't have healed my wounds to the best of his ability, only a wounded man would make such choices.
"I have yet to apologize and thank you." He falls into silence. "I offended you recently, though I fail to recognize the slight I wish to offer you my apology alongside my gratitude for all you have done. Any other competitor would have left me to die; I'm not entirely sure why you chose to resist the impulse."
"You spoke of family," My breath catches in my throat as I recall each of my loved ones' faces, their eyes blazing like flames within my memory. "From the moment we first encountered each other you have spoken of greater connections, ties of blood that stem beyond the selfish desires of an individual. For the sake of your sentiments and your spirit, I couldn't allow you to die, not in such a manner or place."
"So you do care for family." I muse softly, my lips quirking upward in amusement. "Good to know."
"I care only for those I recognize."
"And what did I do that was so worthy of your recognition?"
"You saw me as human," his voice barely above a whisper. "You fought for me, for my respect, for my identity as something I never was." For an instant I imagine I feel the warm press of his hands atop of mine, my fingers splaying beneath his gentle touch. "I was never born. Before I was given the chance to draw my first breath, they begged the gods to take me. The family you hold on to with such praise and devotion had chosen which of their unborn sons they wanted and cast the lesser onto the mercy of the gods."
"How do you know this?" I ask, my voice struggling to escape the chambers of my throat as it thickens. "How do you know that this is what really happened?"
"Look around you," The sensation of fingers brushes my chins, casting my gaze out towards the horizon overlooking the bustling civilization beneath us. "this is the world you were promised, the world you were raised in. The gods are many things, but they will never lie about their position in the hierarchy of this world, nor would they ignore the truth of my circumstances." I try to touch him, to feel his skin, reaching for where I feel the press of his fingers, but I feel nothing beyond my skin and the tears that are helplessly streaming from my eyes. "There is a darkness in me, a chaos that only one god could recognize and understand. He took me in, raised me, taught me to understand and recognize who I am."
"I didn't know." I whimper, my hold on my emotions crumbling as yet another iris is set before me, forming out of particles of dust kicked up by the wind. "None of us knew, I swear it."
"I know." He confesses. "I realized such after our last conversation." My breath is ragged as I pick up the iris, the crimson petals coated with dew that sparkled like diamonds in the sunlight. "There is nothing that can change the past, nor will it prevent what has to happen here. Release any of those foolish beliefs and hopes I know you instinctively harbor, there is nothing more you can do for me."
"Hartema," I whisper. He hisses in response at the sound of his name, a quiet fury that he struggles to grasp control of as sharp pain digs into the side of my neck. I steel my nerves as the pain gives my tears a new motivation. "answer me honestly, what will happen if you lose?" The pain vanishes as if the question stunned him.
"Names have power here," he reminds me, the warmth of his presence slipping away from me. "it was foolish to waste such power on a single question."
"What will happen?"
"Such a fool." He mumbles.
"What will happen?" The words escape me in a scream, the tattered sound of my voice sounding foreign to me as it rips itself free of my throat. My eyes stare out across the sand dunes as if I can see the sound waves tracing their curves. "Please." I sob.
"They will erase me."