The TwiceBorn

Magnificent Mistakes

"I'd teach my heart to lie if I thought that it would."--Lori McKenna

 Islinn waited until she was out of JoHan’s sight before she pulled up the reins and brought the stag to a halt.   She dismounted , and sat down in the middle of the road. Her grief came for her and filled every crevice of her heart. She never thought she would reach a place in her life where she would renounce what made up her very existence.   Apostate.  A word she had  never even allowed to cross her lips.  Until now. 

That sense of warm assuredness, of being loved by some great and unnamable power was gone, shed like an old skin to make room for the new.   Islinn raised the heels of her palms to her eyes in an attempt to stop the flow of tears.   She had never experienced this kind of loss.  It was rich and fleeting, the visions quick and the words brief, but the emotion full, and the longing for its return flowed deep like a river.

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           Alora pulled Loki up and dismounted.  She started towards the girl then stopped, unsure.  The carefully composed façade that Islinn worked so hard to keep intact was gone and the racking sobs that shook her body exposed her far more than when Alora had seen her unclothed the night before.

   She let go of Loki’s reins and watched him make his way over to the side of the road to graze and pondered her next move.  She watched him for a moment then looked back down the road.  Then looked at Islinn.  Then back down the road.  With a sigh, she knelt down beside the girl, who glanced up at her with reddened eyes.  Alora offered her a slight smile. She looked as though she needed it.

“Am I really that bad of a choice?”  Alora said, her voice light. 

“It wasn’t a choice.  It is what it is.”  Islinn whispered, as she struggled to gain control of herself.

Alora shook her head.

“No, it was a choice. I told you you could go with them.  You are not bound to me.” Alora’s voice was pained.

‘You don’t understand.” Islinn gave a short laugh, a sound that edged towards hysteria.

“You’re right, I don’t.  Explain it to me.”

 Alora picked up a small pebble off the road and absently tossed it towards the treeline.  She watched its arc, her face expressionless.  She had no patience for JoHan and his squirrely disciples and she was having a hard time reconciling to the fact that Islinn was apparently a devout follower.  How had she wound up with Behrin?

“I travelled with Domyni JoHan for two winters.  My…father…gave me to them when I was thirteen.”

Alora couldn’t believe what she’d just heard.

“Thirteen winters?  Why would he do that??”

Islinn shook her head.

“No,I wanted to go. I was…meant…to go.”

“Meant to be beaten into unconsciousness?  Islinn, that’s just…” Alora stopped and shook her head.

  Not having people around for companionship in the past had obviously been a wise decision on her part.  It was becoming increasingly apparent to her that Islinn had been beaten around the head one time too many.

“Why do you do what you do?”  Islinn suddenly demanded, her voice hoarse with tears.

“Because…because it’s my legacy.  It’s who I am.”  Alora stammered, taken aback by the abrupt question.