Prisoners of Prophecy

Chapter 31

Melany - Tuesday, July 23rd, 2019; 8:09pm

Xantara and I hadn't shared many words since leaving Calypso, Cato, and that house behind them and went to my room. I didn't mind. In fact, it was almost a blessing. Her soothing presence and the lack of constant questions and worried glances allowed me to sort through my panicked thoughts. She had led me to my room and sat down next to me on the bed and allowed me to brood in silence for a while. Once I felt I could finally relax, I realized how exhausted I was; even my very bones seemed to ache. Meeting Llanthu had been more tiring than anything else I've ever done. I wondered momentarily if I would ever recover from it, or how I could manage to do it again. But I tried to put those concerns from my mind.
I sighed heavily, breaking the still quiet that had fallen over the room, which was only dimly illuminated from the light in the hallway. I didn't have to check to know Xantara was now looking at me; I was so sure of it that I thought I could feel the heat of her eyes on me. When I lay back on the bed, my arms crossed behind my head, she turned her body towards me and studied my face curiously.
"I didn't say everything back there," I murmured, a little guiltily. "I didn't really know how to say it. I wasn't able to think right."
Xantara's concerned stare softened. She scratched absently at the wounds on her face, which seemed to be healing as quickly as they had appeared. In a few days, would they no longer exist yet again? "I don't know how you could have," she said softly. "I have no clue what came over Calypso, but I think she had us all hypnotized."
Was that how she would draw those men in, make them believe that they were safe? I thought, but did not ask aloud. I didn't know how much anyone else knew of Calypso's past, and she had told me not to talk about it with the same persistent force she had used on me earlier tonight. It was the terrifying feeling of losing all control of yourself - but at the same time it was just as euphoric, once you fall into the pale fire of Calypso's eyes and you can sense the vastness of passionate yet fierce power that she possessed. And experiencing it was somehow almost as debilitating as it had been to meet the God that had made plans for me before I had been born.
"We're all afraid and confused," I said simply, keeping my thoughts to myself. "Maybe that was the only thing she could think to do to get answers out of me."
"So what didn't you say?" Xantara asked, her dark eyes narrowed.
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Even the memory of that brutal and relentless rage in Llanthu's eyes was enough to make my stomach churn and my heartbeat race until it was almost painful. Under Calypso's mesmerizing stare, I had been unable to say what he had told me, even though her convincing stare had been demanding me to. Even though I had wanted to - had needed to, because she wanted to know - I had been so stunned that I had been incapable. Now the God's words came back to me, and I could clearly understand what they implied. Fear was like a dagger made of ice being plunged into my chest.
"I think Llanthu knows what it is that's... watching us, or whatever it's doing." I whispered it as if it was perhaps listening now, waiting. "He said he couldn't be sure if it was, but he seemed pretty sure."
Xantara's eyes - which were blacker than a night sky with no stars; eyes that looked similar to those of the God of death - widened. She gasped softly. "Did he say what it was?"
"He said he was an old friend," I said slowly, each word hard to get out. The weight of what horrors we may have to face, and how soon we might have to face them, grew heavier every passing minute. "Someone who had betrayed all of them."
Xantara leaned closer, her lips parted slightly and her eyes saucers of the purest darkness, an expression of shock that was almost comical. Until what she said next. "An old friend of a God? Melany, how powerful is this? Who is it? Did he say?" She asked the questions frantically, maybe both hopeful and afraid that we may now know the being that could be looking for the right time to stop us and whatever plans the Gods had for us.
It took a few moments for me to answer. In the midst of the mental and physical torment of meeting Llanthu for the first time, the things he had said I had not really registered. Xantara's worry was what made me realize the magnitude of what it meant. She was right - someone who had known the Gods well enough that their betrayal had caused so much anger had to have been very important.
Once again, I wondered how much these ancient things expected of us, and how we could possibly have any fighting chance.
I noticed Xantara was still leaning over me, watching me expectantly. I shook my head, feeling a little disappointed that I could not offer her more. "He told me he didn't want to talk about him much until he was sure that what was who this... thing... is. He left not long after."
"Oh." Xantara sat up straight, but continued to study me like she saw something on my face that gave her more answers than anything I could say. "Maybe we shouldn't either, then." A moment of silence passed where we shared a gaze full of an emotion I could not put a name to before it was gone - all I knew was that it was frighteningly but amazingly strong all at once. "You scared me at first, when you came out," she said.
"I was scared," I admitted. "It still doesn't feel real. I can't understand. I was just trying to come to terms with the existence of Gods, just to find out that the one who chose me had to be the God of death." I sighed heavily, rolling over to my side and hugging myself as if I might soon fall apart. "Couldn't it have been anything else?"
"Hey, I know it sounds bad," she said soothingly. "But, I mean, it can't be. He's on our side. And they used to be worshipped by the tribe that they seem to still care greatly about." She offered a small, slightly doubtful smile. "I guess, since there are Gods, it would make sense if it was similar to what we hear in school. Maybe those stories even come from things they did, all throughout time."
The concept of someone being able to live so long that people had been writing about them, building monuments for them, possibly even dying and killing for them, for the entire history of anything and everything we know, was too massive to even begin to comprehend. It made my head feel like it was going to explode.
"I hope you're right," I responded shakily. "I really do."
Xantara lay down beside me. It was unusual and even a little unnerving to see the open concern in the endless chasms of darkness that were her eyes, but it was sort of comforting, too. Though I could not remember much of anything of her in my past, and did not know a lot about her now, I could sense that our companionship was deeper than that of just an old friend met again. And, though the feeling was foreign and a little overwhelming, I knew that I had the same concern for her. That sense of protectiveness that I felt she had over me. I hoped that I could confide in that and not worry it may become a weakness.
"Are you afraid of doing it? Meeting one of them?" I asked suddenly, not really preparing to speak at all.
"I'm terrified," she whispered. I could feel her breath on my face, and the comforting warmth that seemed to be coming from them in waves. I realized then how close she was, and felt my heart skip a beat. I tried to ignore that nervous embarrassment that had momentarily came over me and focus on what she was saying. "I don't know why that man, Achiq, told me to go last. Why they would want me to do that."
"There has to be an order to this. The force field around the house that prevented us from going in the house. And the way I started hearing voices the night before I was supposed to go."
"But why did he feel the need to specifically tell me?"
"You're right," I sighed, feeling lost and a bit defeated. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see. Cato goes tomorrow. And then you'll be next."