11-26-2016, 12:10 AM
Several Days After Angelo’s Nightmare and the Drunken Party that Resulted - Early Morning
I wonder how much weight I have lost at this point…
Seirye allowed herself to lean heavily against the side of the ship as she attempted to catch her breath. One of her slender hands instinctively went to her abdomen to gently press against her stomach through the silky fabric of the gown she slept in, though the gentle prodding provided little more than a reminder of past events as her fingertips ran over the gnarled scars that still decorated a good portion of her torso.
“Grandmother…?”
The young woman’s soft voice rang crystal clear in the still morning air, but it hung suspended with the gentle noises of the waves before dying away without a response. She sighed as she shakily pushed herself away from the side of the Weight of Conviction and began to carefully turn toward the path to and from the sleeping quarters that she had come to be so accustomed to.
The smell of decay had come and gone without so much as a whisper - at least not one she had been aware of when she quickly (but quietly) untangled herself from the blanket that had replaced the one Angelo had previous incinerated in order to retreat to the upper deck.
It was a mixed blessing. On one hand, the lack of mental and emotional warfare that typically accompanied any appearance by Luciano left her fairly confident she could at least return to the warmth of her fiance’s side to get an additional hour or two of sleep before the activity of the ship roused her completely.
On the other… any appearance by Kella typically afforded comfort and advice that she at least partially craved.
The festivities of a few nights previous - and the resulting recovery period for just about everyone involved - had offered a much needed reprieve from any heavy thoughts, but the knowledge was still there.
The woman Seirye had once cherished as one of her closest friends had effectively been solely responsible for the needless death of her beloved’s sister.
Sevlion had gone out of his way to ensure Angelo knew that.
The remnants of the dancer’s rage still burned clearly in the back of her mind as she recalled the sudden flash of light before her sightless eyes as he set the blanket they had shared ablaze.
The intensity of her own concern had been what had kept her from panicking in the few seconds between being roused from her light sleep and the realization of what had happened. Even so, there had been the smallest breath of fear.
Not of being harmed, but of the sudden awareness of just how much he despised a woman she had once loved. A woman that likely knew full-well what Angelo and his family meant considering Bethany had gone out of her way to reassure her that Angelo had not willingly left so many months ago.
A woman that she had given a second chance.
“Gods damn it all.”
Seirye slid down the wall of the ship so that she sat with her back against it and her knees pulled in against her chest. She quickly shook out the loose updo that her hair had been tied into, and simply allowed the flaxen tresses to cascade over her face as she let her head lean back against the wall so that her cloudy eyes were cast skyward.
The dull, ambient light that filled her vision told her it was just barely past the early dawn.
“Why did I not simply allow Father to kill you?”
“Because your heart never deserved the world it was born into, dear.”
Seirye froze as a voice answered with a timbre of intelligence and affection. For a moment the healer’s mind flashed to a distant memory of grey eyes partially obscured behind the glare of angular glasses and framed by straight locks of raven hair.
She could almost see the self-assured smirk that frequently adorned dark lips.
No… no, she cannot actually… how…?
“Your house didn’t either, for that matter. When you first told me you were a Murcatio, I didn’t believe a word of it. Of course, then I realized what a poor liar you actually are… and I mean that in the most endearing way possible, dear.”
Bethany’s voice filled the stunned silence. Seirye finally shifted her wide-eyed gaze in the direction it was coming from as the distinctive click of heels on wood began to stride slowly closer.
There is no smell of decay…
Ever since Redhearth… the voices come with decay…
How did she...?
The footsteps paused a few feet away, and Seirye flattened her back against the side of the ship as she shifted her gaze in the direction of where she would have assumed the woman’s face was. She bit down hard on her lower lip and rapidly tried to rationalize how a priestess of the Whisper was here on a ship weeks away from any port.
Her thoughts fell on the Toosha Tav.
“Ah… did I leave you speechless, dear?”
“Why?”
“Hmm?”
A slight waver was present in Seirye’s voice as she spoke, though she kept her glassy eyes focused on the steady, sightless dark that wreathed the other woman’s face. She could hear the interest in Bethany’s tone as the woman purred curiously, though she knew the knowing smile likely still danced upon her lips.
It always did.
“Angelo’s sister. I forgave you, and you used that second chance to do this? Why did you kill her?”
There was a moment of silence that was only broken by the clicking of the priestess’s tongue.
“Is that what he told you? I didn’t kill her, dear. I didn’t touch a hair on Miss Centri’s he-.”
“You delivered her to death’s door. There is no difference. Tell me why.”
Faint flickers of light appeared in the peripherals of the field of darkness that enshrouded her vision, and again she heard Bethany click her tongue bemusedly
“Am I witnessing dear Seirye getting angry?” the heels clicked again as the woman took another step forward. “Why, just about everything you do is quite endearing. I did love that about you…”
“Answer me.”
There was another moment of silence.
“Everyone has secrets, dear. Everyone is a little bit selfish. They have hidden ambitions. Though… it does surprise me. You were once so skeptical of that. You had so much faith in me, but it was so completely rattled by fury caused by a dream that could have just as easily been fabricated?”
Any retort Seirye may have had caught in her throat as the faint flickers of light began to fade from her vision. She bit down on her lip again as she became distinctly aware of Bethany’s face hovering right in front of her own.
“...so you did not sell her life to Sevlion?”
“Mm… I was not nearly so concrete. Surely though, dear, you must have doubts? It would be the perfect ploy… rend the trust of lovers on the blade of doubt. Regardless of truth it would be the perfect opportunity…”
The flickers of light reappeared on the edges of Seirye’s vision as she curled her slender fingers into fists against the damp wood of the ship.
“Just give me a straight answer.”
Bethany clicked her tongue again.
“My every action has been one that I needed to take.”
The baffling response left her unable to conjure words for a moment as she frantically tried to make sense of the other woman’s behavior. She couldn’t pick the lies from truth… if she was even lying at all.
What if she wasn’t?
Was she even real?
What if she was?
What if…
”...rend the trust of lovers on the blade of doubt…”
Seirye gritted her teeth as the light that flickered on the edges of her vision grew to consume it entirely. Magic sparked to life at her fingertips as she rapidly whispered a series of words beneath her breath.
“Did you, or did you not, sell Marie to Sevlion?” Seirye’s voice cracked as she raised a light-enshrouded hand in the direction of the voice.
“What do you think, dear?”
“Why will you not give me a straight answer?!”
Angelo… please wake up if you can hear me…
“Everyone has secrets.”
For a moment the sorceress sat immobile with her hand still outstretched. The glow of magic flowed slowly around her fingertips as she kept it focused on the woman that she swore was right before her.
Beneath the glow, her eyes betrayed sadness.
“I… cannot forgive you a second time… not if you did this…”
I need you on deck…