>>6169184You turn to check on the others. The three women are discussing something, and Willow seems to be involved, while Rubida holds out her hand to encompass the horizon and the silver ring above.
It looms over you, just like the Temple.
You haven’t covered your hair. You are ready to show the curse you bear, and to display your Faith as greater than any curse. Greater than the chance to meet the Adversary.
“I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to hurt anyone,” Soralisa pleads. “What if my hand slips? What if I cut through one of your veins, what if I—”
“Are your hands slipping now?” You smile, nodding towards your entwined hands. Your brunette friend’s feels firm inside your own.
“N-No.”
“Then it won’t slip when it will be Ansàrra guiding it.” You nod again, and let go. Soralisa sighs and rubs at the cameo with her fingers, then shudders. “This is ancient. This has—” She blinks, her mouth opening in shock. “Argia. Where does this come from?”
“It was given to me by Master.”
“No, I mean— how did he acquire it?” Soralisa’s hand keeps rubbing, as if exploring its ancient surface.
This is something Master never shared.
“I have no idea. Perhaps during one of his journeys? When we come back you can ask him. It’s not the time to wonder about ancient history, Soralisa. I need you focused on this task, please.”
Soralisa frowns.
“I am not sure… the past speaks. Like at the festival for Kishirra, remember? Then, the past was singing. With this thing—” she hesitates. “It screams.” Soralisa shakes her head. “But so be it. I was the one who asked not to be made a burden. I will share the load.”
“Never a burden,” you smile, gently tucking one of her brown locks behind her ear, and she blushes. “Try to remember that.” Then you turn on the smooth ground, giving Soralisa full access to your naked back. “Now please get to work.”
“I— I don’t have a golden chisel.”
“Me neither,” you reply picking up Carnaval’s feather, Her sun glinting off its dagger-sharp edge. “I was given something better.”
[cont.]
