To Rhial

26

Vetia

What a fucked up day.

Every bump and rock the wagon took sent shocks up my body, biting into the cut nerves in my tongue. And I couldn't even put it back on because she took it. The crazy bitch actually took my tongue. I couldn't risk regrowing it with sigils either. I didn't know how to use sigils enough to control it without shattering my hand again. Sure, the slash in my cheek was patched up, but I had to lean my head out the back of the wagon because I couldn't swallow well, so there was just a disgusting mess of blood and saliva dripping from my mouth constantly. The shoulder of my shirt was soaked and disgusting from wiping my chin off and I didn't have any more clothes to wear.

Adam and Desmond explained everything Geren said to the others, and being tongueless, I couldn't help. So there I sat, reading my book out the back of the wagon. Reading was an overstatement. I certainly tried reading, but I couldn't stop my mind from going back to that moment. Simira grabbing my face and cutting out my tongue. And that fuckin' smile. That hideous, maniacal, toothy smile was seared into my eyes. What I wouldn't give to strangle it away from her. Her fist slamming my ribs, snapping them in half. Dumping me in a cage like I was an animal. I hadn't felt so much rage in my whole lives.

God, what I wouldn't give to rip her throat out.

Her pride, her pomp, her ego, all because she was born into a family with a better name than any of us had. We weren't even born into families. Just dropped into the middle of a shithole.

Maybe this is just my own personal hell and this world isn't actually real at all, just punishment. May as well be a dream with how confusing everything is. Well, if Simira's my punishment, I'll do everything I could to make her regret it. I don't even care about Tarynn anymore. I can move on from a fling. She made it personal, she took it further than it needed to go and I hate her for it. That poison might be useful. She's stronger and a better fighter than me, but if I load her with numbing poison and whatever else I have, I might be able to kill her.

I shook my head and ran my hands over my hair, laying them on my neck. That was just dark, wishful thinking. I had to be realistic. We were moving on. Leaving that behind. I needed to leave that behind, for everyone in this wagon with me. I just couldn't help the recency of it.

A little time away from it all will help. I can move past this. I have to.

I sat back and noticed an oily feeling on my fingers, from my neck. It smelled just like that rosy scent from when my whole body was sent into shock. I'd honestly buy it if it were a candle. It was just... relaxing, I couldn't say why.

Tells, sitting across from me, was staring at me with her usual uninterested face, either zoned-out daydreaming or curious. I put my hand in her face, toward her nose. She backed away from it, so I leaned further forward until her face was against the wagon cover and she could only sink down, which wasn't enough. She slinked and crumpled every which way to avoid my hand. Finally, after crinkling until her head was on the seat and she couldn't bend anymore, my hand was close enough for her to sniff and she suddenly stopped trying to avoid it. She continued laying there as I pulled my hand away.

She squinted. "That's what that smell was?"

I exasperatedly nodded at her.

"For fuck's sake Vetia," Desmond was completely across the wagon from me, holding his nose. "Whatever you're doing, I'm upwind and I can smell it. It's awful."

Brenden was laying on the same side as me, finally getting a chance to rest and shut his eyes after driving the whole time. He didn't even bother opening his eyes. "Desmond did you shit yourself again? We all know how much you blame your loose asshole on everyone else around you. You're not getting one over on us again."