Cleansing Fire

Triman fell into the chair that was now a permanent fixture at his wife’s bed, exhausted but happier than he had been in weeks. He’d underestimated the good it would do him to actually be active, to be taking steps to help her over her illness.

He looked over at the woman who had been his life for more than sixty years and sighed. She was just as brittle looking as she had been when he’d left this morning. He wasn’t sure why that should surprise him really; he hadn’t received any instructions yet. He shuddered quietly as he thought about having to meet with the Darkling again. What a pleasure it would be to throw the barrier closed again and destroy the creature as he should.

He let his mind wander over the works of the day, things he had missed, people he would have to get reports from in the morning. It was too late now to drag them from their beds to secure information about the thousand petty things that happened in the Academy during the day. Everything else could wait until he’d seen Vala open her eyes. He’d even refused food from his servants when he came in.

“You must be thinking of something far away husband, to not notice a sick woman staring at you.”

He broke out of his thoughts and couldn’t stop a smile spreading across his face. She was lucid tonight - that was good. It was always better when she knew who he was, who she was. He didn’t think he would have been able to bear another night of stumbling around the topic, trying to find a way to restore her memory. The Healers said the disease was slowly destroying her memory, that eventually she wouldn’t remember anything at all.

“Thinking only of you my dear, you know that,” he said, proud of how steady his voice was. He couldn’t let too much of his happiness show through or she’d be suspicious – he wanted it to be a wonderful surprise for her, when he cured her.

“So, what did you get up to today? Anything exciting? A ride across the countryside perhaps? A little falconry?” he kept his tone light and playful, hoping she’d buy into the banter.

“Oh you know me so well, husband. Flying around the countryside terrorising sheep with Grimbeak, galloping through the fields,” she stopped as a fit of coughing doubled her over in the bed. When she had breath again, she beckoned him closer, patted the bed next to her.

“Come sit with me Triman, tell me of your day. You don’t need to listen to the ramblings of an old woman all the time.”

What she had wasn’t contagious, of that they were certain. Not that it would have made the slightest bit of difference. Through the years they’d been sick together, each catching whatever the other had. It was much easier than staying apart, especially after Lura disappeared. He sank into the cushions next to her, lying back carefully so as not to disturb her too much.

“I went up into the mountains to pray today. Perhaps this time Persidies will answer my prayer. He’s been far too quiet of late,” trying to keep his voice playful still, keeping the anger he felt in check. Of all the times for the gods to be silent, this must be one of the worst.

She cupped his face in her hand, bringing his eyes up to meet hers. He could see he hadn’t tried hard enough to keep his voice level – after all these years, it must have been easy enough for her to read him and his emotions.

“You can’t be angry at the gods Triman, their will is their will. ‘What will be, will be and what is, is sufficient’,” she intoned, doing a credible impression of one of the stoic Priests of Persidies, “I am ready to die if that is the will of the gods. You must understand that my love. I’ve lived a long and fruitful life.”

“Damn the gods, Vala!” he shouted, his emotions finally getting the best of him. He flinched as he saw her cringe into the cushions supporting her.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to shout. But I’m so frustrated at their silence that it’s hard to keep calm sometimes. Tell me what I should do Vala, when the god I’m sworn to serve won’t answer me!”

She regarded him coolly, her amber eyes catching the light from the lamps. She had always hated it when he swore and though he wasn’t a priest and not bound by the same laws, she had always held that he should show the proper respect due his god.

“You accept the will of the gods as I do, Triman. That’s all any of us can do.” She managed to sound much calmer than he felt and he closed his eyes, desperately trying to keep the despair from taking him again. She was so resigned to her death that she couldn’t see any alternative.

“That’s not all we can do! I’ve already…” Too late, he reigned himself in, managing at least to keep from finishing the sentence that he knew would set her off.

Her eyes took on a dangerous light and she sat up straighter in the bed, arms folded carefully now. She looked so much like the falcon she used to fly, he wanted to cry.

“You’ve already what, Triman? What have you done?”

He sprang up from the bed, knocking over the chair in his haste to be away from those dangerous eyes. Even ill, she was still a more than capable Initiate and he remembered well her aptitude with fire in particular. He held his hands up defensively, managing to stand his ground at the edge of the bed.

“Nothing. I misspoke, I haven’t done anything. I’m just… I’m just tired, that’s all.”

She kindled a small flame above one hand, letting it pulse up and down with her heartbeat. Her eyes were glowing gently now, not a good sign.

“Triman Valina, we haven’t lied to each other for sixty years. Don’t you dare start now when I’m dying.”

It was the first time one of them had used the word and she seemed to realise it at the same time as him, the flame snuffed out just as quickly as it had kindled. He found himself sitting in the chair, not remembering having righted it. What harm can it do to tell her? If it stops her talking about dying, it’ll be worth being singed.

“I… I’ve made a deal. A cure for you for a favour for them. Something small, insignificant,” he mumbled, his voice trailing off towards the end. He could have wept for the sudden spark of hope in her eyes; it meant she still wanted to live at least. It hadn’t been alive for long before the dangerous look came back to her eyes and she brought the flame back to life, red this time.

“A deal with whom? Who could offer something like this? Triman, if you’ve made a deal with one of the other territories, there’ll be hell to pay before the counsel.”

He swallowed and took a deep breath. She’d find out one way or another, he had never been able to keep a secret from her.

“The Darklings. Their master has promised a cure for a small task. That’s what I was doing today. Soon we’ll have the cure and then I will,” he stopped as he noticed she’d dropped her hands to the bed and was staring at him as if he’d transformed into one of the Skaji.

“Get out,” she whispered it, almost a hiss. Though quiet, it cut across his protests as effectively as her fire would have. He sprang to his feet, trying to explain but there was something new in her eyes. Could it be… hatred? Fear? And something he’d never before seen outside of a battle, real fire dancing where her pupils had been.

“GET. OUT,” she shouted, the words having a physical presence while she was this charged with energy, pushing him back towards the door. It was all he could do to stay upright. She’d always been stronger with raw power than he was and he felt it now; truly felt it for the first time.

He made it out the door before the fire licked across the wood and he stood there, head resting against the rough wood as he listened to her crying and raging inside. She’ll understand once the cure comes. She will! Even in his mind it sounded false.