The Road to Forgiveness Be Damned

Redemption for a Blameless Sin

A yawn escaped from Ven's mouth as she brushed her hair. She spent a good chunk of last night reading her mother's journal. The small glimpses into her life made her want to continue reading, no matter how drowsy she got. She was only able to push through the first few pages before she stopped for the night. Today was too important to risk screwing up on.

She and Ferreth would soon set off for the swamp to slay their quarry. Although they had no concrete plan as of now, the groundwork was at least there. Step one: kill the creature, step two: inform Filaurel of the deed, and step three: reap in the reward. Third step was still up in the air, however.

As she finished pulling her hair back into the usual ponytail, Ferreth asked her, "How was your reading last night?"

"It was..." she paused, searching for the right word to use, "interesting, to say the least."

"Not what you expected?"

"You... could say that."

She then described some of what she had read through. While some of the entries were typical for someone of Thessalia's age, others were more... suggestive. It wasn't till the 3rd or 4th entry of that kind she realized her mother was a woman who avoided commitment like it was the plague. Nothing wrong with that, it just didn't fit the image she had of her.

"While it's a little awkward to read--" she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear-- "it still lets me know who my mother was back then."

"Hey, whatever works, right?"

"Mm-hmm."

They left the house in a moment's time. Everything was about the same as usual as they walked towards the outskirts. It seemed to be quieter today, a small difference compared to the day before. This was more of the Thal Esari she experienced from her childhood, remembering how she used to be out more when it was quiet. It felt strangely nostalgic, something she never thought she'd miss.

A crack from nearby seized her heart. It was something she was terribly familiar with and it sounded just as awful as it did way back when. Her stomach roiled as she tried to fight the urge to vomit.

Her past and present were beginning to blur together into a kind of mismatched "reality". Tall, dark figures flickered in and out of her vision, surrounding her for one second and then disappearing the next. Her throat felt seemingly sore from the imaginary cries for help she knew would fall on deaf ears. Blistering heat flared up all across her back from both the lashings and the dirt stinging the open wounds. She fell to the ground, clutching her chest, as tears filled her eyes.

She needed to do something, anything, to ground herself back to reality. It didn't matter what but it had to be now. She took out the knife she kept hidden away in her cloak and sliced her left hand open.

It easily cut through the fabric of her glove as well as the skin on her palm. Good thing she sharpened it before coming here. Scarlet blood bled from her wound, though the black cloth of her glove did well to disguise it. She then opened and closed her hand tightly several times in an attempt to magnify the pain.

You're okay, she kept repeating to herself. You're not a little kid anymore. There's nothing they can do to hurt you. Ferret wouldn't dare let anyone hurt you again. Breathe in, then breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out.

The nausea she felt soon settled and her breathing steadied itself. The figures her mind conjured up vanished like the illusions they were. Her voice no longer felt like it was stuck, hearing her breaths come out clearly. The burning sensation across the span of her back was absent yet her scars still ached. Despite the dulling pain in her hand, she was okay. She was safe.