TELL ME THE TRUTH

Chapter Eight

Evangeline 

1744

I couldn't tell night from day anymore. We slept when we could no longer keep our eyes open and we awoke when we could sleep no longer. It began to smell even worse. The only amenity we had, as I discovered, was a bucket intended for our outhouse. I realized that when Duwar made his way over to the corner and pushed his ripped trousers off, exposing himself.

"What are you doing?" I asked in bewilderment.

It was Tali who answered as the sound of him relieving himself reached my ears. "Where else should we relieve ourselves?"

"Oh," I whispered, looking away from her and trying not to stare at the big man. I was sort of fascinated by him in the way that a child is fascinated by something they've never known before. I'd never seen a man unclothed before, never even thought about how different they could be.

Now I knew.

Time seemed to blur. It felt like forever that we had no food. We had no blankets or clean clothing. Nothing to clean ourselves with. The rats were more brazen than I'd ever seen previously, coming close to us in their search for nourishment.

Amandine's words haunted me. Things you read in storybooks are not only for the storybooks. Look within yourself and you shall see the myth come to life. The myth is reality, and within yourself you shall see the flame of power.

I couldn't figure out what she meant, and she'd yet to say.

My mind was perplexed, circling the same thoughts over and over again. I tried to decipher Amandine's words. I tried to understand what had happened to me.

But I was still as lost as I'd been before.

At some point, footsteps echoed through through the hold as someone walked above us. The trapdoor was pulled up, dim light filtering through the opening. Some bread crusts were thrown down into the hold. The trapdoor slammed shut and the footsteps left.

No one moved for a long moment. Rats scurried out towards the food.

Tali lunged and grabbed a single crust.

Slowly, the others stepped forward and each took a single crust. Once they each had their crust, Amandine pushed me forward. There was only one crust left. Duwar looked between us and then held out his crust. I blushed, recalling the way I'd stared that first time I'd seen him relieve himself.

"You ladies need this more than myself. I will wait until the next feeding," he said in his broken English. Amandine translated for me before speaking to him.

"I thank you, Duwar. You may have my portion next time." She translated that for me as well.

Duwar sat down against the opposite wall, staring off into the distance.

I ate slowly, savoring the moldy bread crust. All too soon, it was gone, and I was still hungry. Everything in me struggled against the notion that I wasn't free. I fought the idea that I was someone's property. I couldn't accept it. It was almost like I was a new person. The Evangeline I was before had died when the men took her away and now I was a different Evangeline.

I had no closure.

I had nothing at all.

Tears slid from my eyes and down my cheeks, the salty streams feeling disconnected with Evangeline Benoit. They felt like someone else's tears.

I didn't know who I was anymore. I certainly wasn't who I'd once been.

The pale-skinned Tali appeared at my side and began singing quietly in a strange language. Little arms wrapped around my waist as I sobbed.

All the while, the child was singing that haunting lullaby.

She didn't cease her lullaby until my tears had dried up and my sobs had abated. Then she released me and looked at me sadly.

"What were you singing?" I asked when I finally found my voice.

"A lullaby my mama taught me a long time ago," she answered in fluent French.

"What language is it?"

"Ibo."

I'd never heard of it before. "How old are you?"

Tali smiled a secretive smile, not unlike the one I'd seen on Amandine's face. "Older than you think."

I was silent while I tried to figure out what she meant. Once again, I was struck by the wisdom in those strange eyes.

"Can I tell you a story?" She asked.

"Sure."

"There was a lady. She was called good news. Some called her breathe. Some called her live. Others called her to breathe angel, and to live angel. She was to breathe life into an angel, that was why she was called that. That angel was a child. The lady called good news was very powerful. Her innocence was stolen by a bad man. Then she breathed life to the child. When she gave life to the little baby, she gave her some of her power and love. When the child was still little, the lady called good news was killed by a bad man. The little child grew up and became the angel who would save us all."

Her eyes began to glow, the little red flecks growing until her irises were a bright, glowing red. Tiny tattoo-marks radiated that same bright crimson. I could see letters on her right forearm, spelling out a word I'd never heard of before. On the inside of her wrist was a foreign symbol.

A dragon-like creature breathed flames in the center of the symbol. Smoke surrounded the dragon, along with a set of gleaming webbed wings. Flames and smoke emanated from the symbol, winding up her forearm and encompassing that foreign word.

Gone was the child I'd met when thrown into the hold. In her place was someone I couldn't begin to fathom.

"Do you feel alright?" I queried in a shaky voice.

She nodded solemnly. "Yes, why?"

"Your eyes and arm."

"They do that sometimes," she explained.

Her tiny, glowing hand wrapped around my wrist. A surge of energy absorbed into my skin. It reminded me of fire. It felt like standing in front of a huge fire, hearing the flames crackle and hiss as they licked at everything they touched. It was like flames were winding around me, dancing, but not daring to come near me. I felt something pacing, irritated, in that energy, big, scaly feet padding across splinter-ridden wood.

A bright green glow formed and mixed with the red. Lines of smoky tendrils and thorn-and-flower vines wound around my forearm, circling two words that were writing themselves up my forearm. The tendrils and vines overlapped in places, creating X's, and met on the inside of my wrist. They encircled a symbol with a dagger, a strange bird, and an odd, decaying flower. Those tendrils and vines wrapped around the trio, and the flower looked as if it were bleeding on the dagger. A minuscule inscription of my surname was on the hilt of the dagger. Thin flames looped around the entire symbol.

"You're very powerful," Tali said. "Ostensor Mortuis," she read from my arm. "I never met an ostensor before."

"What are you?" I demanded.

"I am Igneus."