Vassal by Sterling D'Este (reading books for 7 year olds .txt) 📗

And then there was the question of where she would go. Delyth could not return home, having failed. She doubted they would allow her to. Those who hated her for what she was would have new ammunition. Those who respected her for her strength and devotion would have that respect no longer.

And where else was there? No human settlement would accept her.

No, Delyth could not leave.

But perhaps it was best to rethink her priorities.

High Priestess Anwen had named Delyth Champion to the Vassal, not champion to Enyo. She would make it her duty to protect Alphonse rather than to serve the Goddess unthinkingly. This way, she could both complete her sacred purpose and live with herself.

Her teeth set, Delythleaped back into the air.

When she returned to their camp, she could see Alphonse and Etienne crouched together, but she could not hear what they said over the rush of wind in her ears. Delyth landed a few yards away with a spray of dust and collapsed her wings against her back. She wasn’t sure what to say. Nothing that sprang to mind seemed fit.

❀

Relief flooded Alphonse as she stood, turning towards Delyth. She knew in her heart that she and Etienne alone stood little to no chance of actually making it to the temple without Delyth’s help. It seemed corralling Enyo was more than a one-person job anyway.

Furthermore, the brief exchange she and the warrior had shared the day before had been meaningful to Alphonse. She had thought, perhaps, she might make another friend, despite the sickness within her.

So she was reassured that Delyth had come back. Surely, that meant things weren’t so bad that, with a little help, Alphonse could not mend it? She tucked her hands swiftly into the folds of her plain grey skirt so the priestess couldn’t see them and stepped closer.

“Delyth, I’m very glad you came back. And I—we—” she glanced at Etienne meaningfully, “wanted to apologize. For attacking you as I did. And for frightening you. And for making you… making you do something you didn’t want to.” She actually turned a bit ashen at this last part.

She had never in her life forced anyone to do anything. Ever. To think she was turning into a bully and a brute…

Etienne met Alphonse’s gaze and turned to Delyth, his expression calmer than before though still reluctant. “I’m sorry. For everything I said.”

Delyth was still for a moment, her eyes closed. Alphonse watched her take a deep breath. “You weren’t completely wrong,” the warrior said. “I put Alphonse in danger. It will not happen again.” Her face was unreadable, emotions concealed behind a mask that had only slipped because of the morning’s horror. “We should get going. Much of the day has been lost.”

Alphonse winced at that cold tone. Delyth must think her demented. Twisted. Inhuman.

They were things she thought about herself, so it was only fair.

The healer turned away, swallowing her disappointment. “I’ll pack up my tent,” she murmured to no one in particular. The sooner they got going, the sooner they’d reach the temple, and the sooner Enyo could be gone forever.

Good riddance.

༄

The rest of the day passed mostly in tense silence. Delyth led the group north for several hours, the pace mind-numbingly slow. She had covered all of this ground and more twice just that morning. The atmosphere at camp was not much better. The halfbreed was still dealing with her own guilt, and she did not think Etienne had completely forgiven her. He might never.

She would just have to live with that and do what she could to move forward.

After an unsatisfying meal of dried rations, Delyth finally spoke again in more than the short replies she’d stuck to for most of the day.

“Alphonse,” she said. “I don’t think you should sleep alone again.”

Etienne was nodding. “No. It was too easy for Enyo to keep control all night.”

Delyth glanced briefly at him and then back to Alphonse. “I will share your tent if that’s alright with you. For protection.”

Etienne opened his mouth as though to protest, but seemed to think better of it.

Alphonse’s wide eyes drifted towards the little tent, and then towards Delyth, her wings…  “Won’t you… won’t you be uncomfortable, in that little tent with me?” She asked tentatively, clearly considering the offer.

Delyth actually smiled at that. It was true that she did not much care for small spaces, but the alternative… Her mind turned to the bloody scene that morning. It was so much worse that, in comparison, the discomfort of sleeping in a small space seemed laughable.

She didn’t say that, though. She didn’t think it would make Alphonse feel any better.

“I don’t think it will be uncomfortable, bykhan,” Delyth said gently. “And you do not need to sleep alone.”

The girl pressed her lips together, contemplating. Her glassy eyes flickered over Delyth’s face, searching for something there. “And...You aren’t afraid I will hurt you...again?” Alphonse’s eyes widened even more, as though she was trying to keep the tears welling up from spilling over.

Delyth’s first impulse was to claim that she wasn’t hurt because she had no physical injury, but she understood what Alphonse meant by the word. There was more than one type of pain.

“You have not hurt me,” she said. “I don’t think you ever will.”

The distinction between Alphonse and Enyo was so clear in her mind. Their actions, their personalities, so different.

“This way, she is less likely to hurt you or me or Etienne. I think it will be difficult to make it to the temple otherwise.”

❀

A single tear slipped down her cheek, and Alphonse hastily wiped it away. “Very well,” she agreed, trying to sound reasonable and brave and… like herself. She mostly succeeded.

Besides, it wasn’t as if she could sleep in a tent with Etienne—that simply wasn’t proper. And Enyo did seem to have a propensity for harming her friend. Perhaps Enyo knew Etienne was going to do his best to shove her back into whatever damned realms Enyo had