#valeia

She nodded her head, silent. Veiled priestesses were not to be spoken to, except to deliver orders. She stepped past the priestess and unsheathed her weapons, bloodied from her brief fight with the rainbow drinker that had been haunting the cavern these past few nights.

Everyone could rest easily now, and those that had been slain could be at peace, for their killer had been brought to justice. Her thoughts drifted to Mikora, who’d been delirious from sleep deprivation last she saw. He’d been shaken ever since his dear friend and her own matesprit’s disappearance two sweeps ago, and with how close they were personally, detached guidance was impossible.

Valeia thought she might urge him to visit the temple more often, though. He seemed so troubled, by things more than the rainbow drinker.

She nudged the thoughts from her mind to focus on the ritual now at hand. Inside the sanctum was a deep pool, with a statue of the Mother Goddess cupping one of her three pairs of hands together. Water sprang from her palms and trickled continuously into the pool below.

Valeia undressed, folding her clothes and handing them to the veiled priestess, who curtsied again and took her leave.

She waded into the water, carrying her weapons with her. She stood under the fountain, letting the cool water wash over her. She washed her weapons in the water’s flow, and then set them on a small platform waiting behind the waterfall.

Valeia prayed, thanking the Mother Goddess for her life and for granting her strength, and wishing for the troll who had become the monster she’d slain to rest in peace.

She lifted a small glass bottle already sitting on the platform with her weapons and anointed herself with the oil inside; At the same time, washing off the blood from her kill.

After she finished, she knelt in the water, meditating on the monster she had laid to rest, and praying.

The veiled priestess returned after a long while. Valeia heard the jingle of her jewelry at the door, the only indication that her clothes were clean and ready for her again.

She waited a few minutes longer before withdrawing from the pool, drying herself with a towel waiting by the pool’s edge. The veiled priestess stood by the door, holding her clothes.

Valeia accepted them with a small bow, and the priestess curtsied before leaving once more.

Valeia dressed and sheathed her weapons. As she stepped out of the sanctum, a voice caught her attention.

“Blade-Priestess Valeia; A moment of your time, please.”

One of the elder priestesses stood waiting for her. Valeia made the same curtsy motion that the veiled priestess had made for her, and followed the elder silently.

Valeia was lead to another room, the entrance flanked by two guards. Inside waited another elder, and the one who had been sent to fetch Valeia took a seat and gestured for Valeia to sit on a cushion in front of the two of them.

In the customary manner, she knelt and unsheathed her weapons, laying them in front of her.

“Blade-Priestess Valeia. I commend you for your brave act this night; The slaying of the rainbow drinker which came of the low guard Alecci. However, I bear grave news as well. I ask that you prepare yourself; as I understand it, this news will be terrible indeed.”

Valeia raised her chin slightly, her brow knitting almost imperceptibly. She took a breath.

News of Beihet, no doubt.

“I am prepared, elder.”

The old woman nodded, her expression growing grim before she took a breath, and continued.

“Tonight, the Archivist Mikora has confessed to committing the murder of Quartermaster Beihet Karrar, two sweeps hence. He seeks forgiveness from the Mother Goddess by trial.”

Valeia parted her lips, just slightly.

In truth, she simply could not believe this to be true. That frail Mikora could slaughter her fierce, towering matesprit and escape apparently unhurt. For she had never remembered him having any injuries.

And yet.

It made some sense with Mikora’s behavior. How shaken he had been since that week two sweeps ago. Valeia thought it to be the murders that had begun at the start of her matesprit’s disappearance…

She inhaled softly, her lower lip quivering and tears stinging at her eyes.

All the kindness she had shown Mikora since then. That she thought them both comrades in their grief at Beihet’s loss.

“Will you grant him a trial, or do you wish for his immediate death?” Asked the elder.

“...I will grant him a trial.” Valeia said, her voice quiet. “And I wish to be present.”

“Remember that the answers may not come clear, Valeia.”

She closed her eyes, swallowing the waver in her voice. “I understand.”

“Go, gently now, Valeia.”

She bowed her head, and got to her feet. She took another breath, and then took her leave.

As she walked, she regulated her breathing carefully. She all but ignored every troll she passed, barely nodding her head if anything at all. She continued until she reached her own hive.

The hive that felt so empty without her Beihet. Who would never come to fill the space at her side again.

Oh, she had thought- She had thought herself free of hope that he’d return, but it was clear with this that some had still been stubbornly clinging to her heart. Finally wrenched free and stomped in the dirt.

Valeia sank to her knees, pressing her palms to the floor. She wanted to break down, wholly and entirely, to feel it all at once, but her tears would not come.

Her chest heaved with sobs, her shoulders shaking. Grief welled in her chest like an overwhelming tide, choking her breath. 

Her matesprit was dead.

And worst was yet to come; The trial proceedings, wherein she would have to listen as Beihet’s memory was dragged to the surface, have to refrain from making Mikora regret laying a hand on her beloved.

But for now…

He was supposed to be working right now. But he was utterly exhausted, and the other Archivists could tell.

He had gotten a few hours of blissful sleep thanks to Valeia’s presence, the day before last. But she had other duties to attend to, and sleep found him again when he was alone yesterday. That time, as he’d feared, he had a nightmare.

He woke up unable to move, and felt Alecci’s shadowy form kneeling on his chest, staring him in the face with those lifeless eyes. And Beihet loomed over him, silent, watching with a hollow gaze, his face split from Mikora’s knife.

Then, in waking, he kept seeing blood on himself in his peripherals. Twice he’d stopped mid-task, or even mid-conversation to double-check that he wasn’t covered in blood still. He could barely function with his work, making half a dozen mistakes just in the few hours he was there tonight.

So, on a white sash’s orders, he was sent hive, escorted by the same silver sash who had mocked him last week.

She hadn’t said a word. He wondered if she knew, somehow, and pitied him.

She couldn’t know. None of them could just intuitively know what he’d done. They surely presumed it was a rational fear of being killed, his blood drained from his body while he was alone. That was all.

But he felt like an open book. He felt his guilt weigh in his chest like a stone. Alecci and Beihet haunted him every passing moment, both in his sleep and in waking.

Perhaps he was not forgiven, after all. Perhaps the Mother Goddess was trying to tell him as much, with these visions.

Mikora didn’t know. He couldn’t hope to know. But...There were trolls who knew, at least better than him.

Exhausted, mindless, Mikora left his sector. He shuffled down the main street in a daze, barely aware of his surroundings, until a crowd blocked his path. Some trolls were fleeing, and those that stayed seemed on the verge of doing so themselves, or were telling others to stay back.

Mikora turned to see an arrow-ridden figure crouched on the roof of a nearby building. Their skin glowing white and eyes solid yellow. Unable to jump down or to the next building without putting themselves within range of being speared by the guards waiting below.

It was Alecci. He didn’t look like himself, his hair tangled and teeth bared in a vicious snarl. Mikora could see the wounds he had left, amongst the arrows.

“A Blade!” “Thank the Goddess- It’s Valeia!” A few trolls cried out.

Valeia leapt from rooftop to rooftop until she reached the same building that Alecci was huddled on, her weapons already drawn. She immediately rushed him, and Alecci hissed and lunged to face her head-on, claws outstretched.

She caught his claws on one weapon, and ran him through the chest with the other. She knew, that wouldn’t be enough, and immediately slammed a foot into his stomach to knock him back and wrench out the blade.

Alecci recovered quickly, and lunged again while Valeia recovered from her attack. She ducked under his claws and then darted forward, aiming a rapid, powerful slash outwards.

Her blade severed his head from his neck. His head fell, and thudded wetly against the ground. His body wavered, the glow fading, and then tumbled off the roof. The crowd hastily backed away to avoid it- Already beginning to murmur prayers for the deceased to rest in peace, and praises for Valeia and the Mother Goddess.

Mikora bolted.

Alecci would have come after him, he knew it. He would have stalked him, driven him insane with fear, and then killed him.

Mikora had to have the Mother Goddess’ forgiveness. If she forgave him then Alecci and Beihet would too, and then they could rest in peace, and they would not haunt him.

He could be forgiven. He had to be forgiven.

Mikora slowed only once he reached the temple. He slid into a quiet archway under the stairs, remaining there to breathe and smooth out his clothes. Once he’d caught his breath, and felt a little calmer, he fixed his hair and cleaned his glasses.

No one was hunting him now. Alecci was dead, and Beihet had to be, too. The Mother Goddess would wait patiently for him to ask for her forgiveness. He could relax.

He took one final breath, and went slowly up the stairs to the temple. Trying to force his rapidly beating heart to slow, and calm. He roamed the temple until he found who he was looking for: Liorai, a low priestess; She was known for her patience, gentleness, and compassion. She would understand what he’d been through.

“Priestess Liorai,” Mikora said softly, trying to keep his voice steady, and she looked up. “I…Have something to confess.”

Liorai smiled gently at him, and got to her feet, setting down her pen.

“Of course. I commend your bravery, gentle one; May I have your name?”

He felt a pang in his chest that she didn’t already know it. Everyone knew everyone here, yet…

“Mikora,” he replied, and bit the edge of his tongue.

“Thank you, Mikora. Come, follow me.”

Mikora took a step back- He didn’t want to disturb her. And he didn’t want to even try to look her in the eye...

...But his shoe scuffed on a rock, and Valeia turned.

“Oh,” She sounded almost disappointed, but she smiled softly at him. “Mikora.” She turned fully to face him, and he swallowed hard and stepped forward to greet her.

“How are you doing?” He managed that and a mirroring smile, his throat feeling tight.

“...I’m alright.” Valeia replied, and then her gaze flickered downwards. She took a breath as though to collect herself, and then she took Mikora’s hand, knitting her fingers between his so very gently. “How are you?”

“I’m...fine.” Mikora’s voice broke. Valeia’s brow knitted and jade tears welled up in her eyes, and she squeezed his hand, nodding faintly.

“...I’m still...Hoping he’s out there somewhere.” She whispered. “That he could come back to us. He’s just...Stuck somewhere.”

Mikora thought of how he had left Beihet’s body, lying in the stream, blood dyeing the clear water jade. He gave a shaky nod, tears stinging at his own eyes. “M-Mhm.”

Valeia gave his hand another squeeze, and a smile. “We’ll get through this. He wouldn’t want us to grieve.”

Mikora could only manage a nod this time, and pulled off his glasses, looking down and trying to blink away his tears.