A Priestess for the Blind God (Legends of Rahasia Book 1)

Chapter Seventy-One

Ratu cleans me, sponging the blood from my skin in eerie silence. She's seen things on the streets, but I think the gods' war still frightens her more than anything. And then, worse than even her silent judgement, Ratu leaves me alone to sleep. Because of this solitude, I sleep in fits, tossing and turning with the silk sheets twisted around the inside of my leg. Occasionally, my heartbeat quickens, fearful of another attack, as though I'll leap from the bed at any second to cut down another demon. When I turn to reach for my mirror, Ratu's left it out of arm's reach, draped alongside my scimitar. She cleaned and polished it for me, wrapping it carefully up in twine so that I wouldn't ruin it by single-handedly attempting to fight Cato.

"I need to go fight... I need to..."

As soon as Ratu hears my cries, she bustles into the room. She hasn't left me alone after all. She's just on guard outside my door.

Ratu presses her cool lips to my burning forehead, running a damp cloth smelling of incense and rosewater along my throat. "Hush, sayang. Get some sleep."

I fall back onto the bed, my spine tingling and throbbing occasionally with pain, but my mind tortures me more than my body does. I'd put myself through physical agony if only to stop my mind from playing that same scene back again, when Ryu denounced me.

When I saw fear in his eyes, the eyes of my own brother, instead of love.

"No!" I jolt awake.

But instead of Ratu there, it's Kane, muffling my cries. He holds a finger up to his lips, pointing to the door where an overprotective Ratu stands guard.

"So... the most brutal mortal killer in the Empire gets a nursemaid." Kane smirks at me, balancing on the edge of the bed. My eyes trail over him, painting his body with only my gaze.

Flushing, I draw the sheets up to my chest, my body covered in fresh bandages and salves from where Aziz and Alef wounded me. "I'm in too much pain to play games, Kane."

He looks at me without looking at me, touching each bruise I have, making them hurt less if not entirely disappear. "Pain of the mind or body?"

I chuckle, thoughts falling along the lines of morbid. "You tell me."

He gets to his feet, simple black robes and leather sandals. His dark arms are set in golden bracers, silver hair falling at his shoulders, a lion's mane or a jackal's moonlit pelt. Milky eyes, unfocused yet clear. Skin set in shadow, skin I know too well. Yet, still, I know little of what lies beneath that Divine exterior.

Though, arguably, I've come much closer to finding that out than any religious scholar.

"When I asked you about having a future with me, you said no. A lot of heroes in legends usually follow Divine prophecies, don't they? But you're no hero, or so you believe." His back to me, shoulders squared, a curvature of flesh, bone, scars. "You keep casting yourself as a villain, don't you, love? You revel in it. Wickedness." He runs his fingers across my scalp, skin dancing over skin, the web of marks and tight curls. "I feel it, the darkness in your thoughts."

"Heroes aren't supposed to be feared by their friends, Kane. Ryu fears me. Elio knows I'm useful, but he fears me too. If I were truly a hero, I'd be loved."

Kane edges toward the open window, holding his darkened palm out to the night sky. A day has passed already with all my fitful waking and sleeping, the nightmarish reality clashing with the aching solitude of night. Sleep's elusive as I prepare and heal for my final battle. But still, Kane reaches out toward the moon, and when he pulls his hand back, he has a lotus in his palm, smelling of dreams and stardust.

"Maybe if you allowed yourself to be loved, you could be that selfsame hero."

I look at him, wanting to reach out, but irrationally angry at the same time. It's easier this way, not feeling anything for him. If I'm to be a warrior, I'd die anyways. There's no use loving something eternal when you have the lifespan of a sand-fly compared to them. "Humans die, Kane. Warriors die even sooner." I flinch, another memory bubbling to the surface, of Elio promising the world to Ryu, and Ryu willing to die for Elio. Love like that, it isn't safe. It drives men mad. I don't want that same madness. "Love is weakness. Warriors don't love. They rationalize like they would during a war. They make intelligent alliances."

Kane mulls over this for a moment, his voice goes caustic. "Are you afraid of love?"

I open my mouth to answer.

My tongue is poised, throat constricted.

No words come out.

Kane turns to me, drops the lotus into my outstretched, limp palm. He presses a kiss against the other open palm, lips supple and searing. "A dream." He whispers. "A kiss in a palm is like a dream, bottled up and stored in secret." He presses my fingers shut. "Now, bad thoughts and nightmares cannot trouble you. I should leave. I do not want to be the reason you're afraid. There's enough fear in the world as it is, love."

He gets up then, the comforting weight of his body leaving a void at my side.

I find my voice again, panicking. "Wait! I never told you to go." I lean back, my palm pushing back the sheets, making room beside me. "Stay a while. Help me forget the bad."

"Words fell from your mouth, Ode, words I have yearned for since time began. You might have even convinced me if I only heard your voice..." Kane turns back, smiling sadly. "But then I saw your eyes."

My eyes?

What the hell did he see in my eyes?

"Sleep well, Champion." His back, I see the robes on his back, the cloth so black it blends with the night, the skin gleaming. The dark skin I can almost feel, ghostlike, beneath my fingertips. As he leaves me behind, I feel as though I might have lain with a merciless demon, a ghūl, not a god capable of love. Gods protect. Demons take.

Maybe I've become no better than my ghūls, living for flesh and blood, not living for anything higher. I kill. I conquer. I take men to my bed. But do I love?

I open my mouth to reply.

My tongue is poised, throat constricted.

No words come out.

***

Champions,

Thank you so much for the support. It's been so overwhelmingly kind that I'd leap with joy if I didn't have three tests in a row for college. (Wish me luck).

As it is, no, Ode, baby! Her heart is hurting, and so is Kane's. Being a figure of legend is hard enough without maybe-love to complicate it.

Oh, the horror...

-Sophia