The Matriarch's Daughter

Chapter Seventeen: Fallout

Since that day, three months have passed.

Three months since the incident with Rory.
Three months since her sister had last spoken to her.
Three months since Thepa had felt whole.

Now, Thepa was fragmented, a shell of her former self. Her heart ached. Her soul thirsted for agape, the kind of love that asked for nothing in return, but she was powerless to quench it. She had never felt so empty, so incomplete. Even worse, the pain inside her showed no signs of stopping.

Every meeting only served to push them further apart. When they did speak, Rory's responses were short, punctuated sentences that stung Thepa's heart much like the arrows she shot in target practice, letting out her frustration. More and more, she found her blue eyes staring at the multicolored circular targets in a vain attempt to find joy, but even that had lost its luster. Instead, it reminded her of a relationship damaged beyond repair as she constantly saw Rory's penmanship etched across the bow's riser.

To my one and only sister, may you always find your mark.

Three months.

The fire inside her had died. The dreams of her mother stopped. The call within grew faint. Suspicious of inaction, likely fact that Thepa was still alive, the Matriarch had summoned Vivian home. Soon after, Lily was called back to the Nation State of Swampspell, putting the team on hiatus.

Now, there wasn't even a mission. Just Thepa. All alone with her thoughts.

Three months.

The council moved forward without her. They praised her actions, but decided to put her leadership of the Elite Strike Team on hold. To ease their own conscience, they pinned a medal to her chest, as if its scrap could erase the emptiness she felt. Not once did they ask how she might feel about any of it. Then, without her input, they made their decision.

A new team.

One built from the ground up, carefully selected and trained together from the start—unlike hers. This new team would be disciplined, cohesive, and unquestioning. A unit without complications. A unit without her.

They were moving on, and Thepa was being left behind. At least they gave her, her old job back.

Three months.

Still, despite everything, Thepa held out hope for the future. She carried her bow everywhere, hoping for a chance to subtly show Rory that she hadn't given up on their relationship. Even now, the bow lay by her side, ready to be seen. Not that she expected Rory to see it.

"Rory," Thepa thought, staring at the message scroll. Its arcane runes glowed in response. Its use was limited, but she was out of options. She loved her sister, and if Einkidi was right, love demanded to be seen and shared.

"Can you hear me?"

***

"I can hear you," Rory whispered, ignoring the magic of the whisper spell.

Her soft voice echoed through the hallowed study of the Gate of the Moon.

To an outsider, the Gate of the Moon was the height of grandeur. It was an imposing and opulent space to ensure the High Priestess had everything she needed to fulfill her duties. Towering bookshelves encircled the room, each packed with countless volumes. Seven stained-glass windows, evenly spaced between the shelves, depicted the moon in its different phases, their colored light dancing across the polished floor.

At the room's center, an elaborate workplace stood arranged with stately furniture scattered with books and parchment. Opposite it, a cozy sitting area invited respite, a low tea table stacked with ten well-worn books beside a partially played game of Suns and Moons, waiting for its next move.