Truyen2U.Net quay lại rồi đây! Các bạn truy cập Truyen2U.Com. Mong các bạn tiếp tục ủng hộ truy cập tên miền mới này nhé! Mãi yêu... ♥

| 03 | NAY

Somewhere in the Outside, a girl fought the stalkers that crept behind her in the shadows fearlessly with her bare hands, and could tread the markets at night with her eyes half-closed. Somewhere in the Outside, a girl lay atop the highest roof, gazing at the vast expanse of a night sky adorned with the sprinkle of silver dust, pondering at the wondrous cosmic entities that existed beyond the realms of stars. Somewhere in the Outside, a girl dreamt of voyaging across the seas in search of a forgotten city and she did. Somewhere out there, a girl did everything, and she did nothing.

A girl was there, and she was here.

A girl was free, and she was not.

A girl had the liberty of making her own decisions, and she didn't.

Nay felt powerless, sitting here every day before dawn for a prayer that she felt never even reached beyond this mountain. She remained seated for more than an hour today, before the hallowed tree that patiently waited for the sun to peek through the sunspill, and shower its gold to its bare branches. Still there were a few hours left till it received its daily sunshine—at least someone in the room didn't complain about their privileges.

But she sat there, knees hard on the cold ground, back on her burning feet, eyes closed and breaths slow as the air that moved around in the sacrosanct chamber. This was no place to express the rage fuming inside her—Father wouldn't like it. Peace was a foreign feeling, eaten away by wrath.

She rose, caressing her knees and dusting off her wide pants. She gazed at the hole above the leafless tree, a swirl of dark violet fading ever so slowly to make way for the light.

She sensed someone nearing, someone entering the chamber, their thoughts aloud.

I recall you saying you did not believe in prayers anymore.

I recall when I was told I was free to make my own choices and, said Nay, without turning back, without being able to hear her own words. Which is true.

We're still at this? Her mother's footsteps grew closer before she stood on her right, sighing heavily and following her daughter's gaze to the only piece of the sky they were allowed to see from inside this chamber. Vengeance will not bring you peace, my little flame—

Don't call me that.

She sighed again. Fine. Daughter—

Am I?

I do not know why you would let this begin again—

You did, mother. Long when you decided to disregard me and my views—

The views a madman would make! Her mother cut her thoughts off harshly. What you sought to do that day was not—

Was the right thing to do—

Is the work of rogue princesses!

Her mother stepped forward so she was in Nay's peripheral vision. She wanted her to listen, and this was a step reasonable. Not too confrontational, yet the matter being discussed was meant to be. Nay liked none of this.

Her mother continued, unless you have already forgotten what had happened to the family of Elysar? Or Nahra? Or"

"I can never forget anything, mother," Nay spoke aloud for the first timefor the first time in months, or perhaps a year. She couldn't tell. "I'm surprised you still ask me that. The Elysar dynasty was doomed for downfall when they failed to take the necessary precautions and protect themselves. And the hive cities were built on competition and not refuge. That's my lesson from history."

This is not about them again, Nay. Your anger is out of place. Mine was too, however I chose to accept what happened.

"How could you?" she said with distaste.

Because I had to.

Nay felt her mother's gaze heavy on her, though she didn't return it. That was what she did—refused to look at anyone in the face she felt indignant with.

She imagined she'd do well without her mother's voice puppeteering her in her head, yet for all that time she remained in retributive silence, it made no difference whether or not her mother spoke to her or not. It surprised her that she would respect her wish and leave her as she would be, so she should be relieved that her mother has come to speak, yet there was an urge for defiance.

"Then you did not love Aba as much as I did."

If I didn't, I wouldn't have taken his place, her mother thought as Nay turned to leave. You of all people here know how much our people meant to him, how much he loved them, the lengths he would go to protect us all. Does that tell you nothing?

Nay paused at the edge of the tiered floor. Without turning back she whimpered, "you told me he loved me more than anyone."

Of course, he did, her mother neared her, but she stepped aside. I do too, and it's for the same reason that I had strengthened the security threefold to prevent any more lives from being lost. To prevent what happened last time. To have someone chase a child outside.

Nay mustered a fiery breath before she gritted through her teeth, "I want him back! And if I can't, show me the traitors responsible and I swear I will forget about this."

We have been through this, Nayomi, her mother expressed, concern evident in her thoughts. Your father is not going to come back, whatever you do. We are all that's left. Your impulsiveness is too much of a risk not just for the True Colony but the New Colony as well.

"Then make me a Zita!" She turned fiercely and faced her mother directly. Her mother remained in her kaftan, although her hair was tied back. She must have had the sisters attend to her before she left. And she conveniently made her way to the Ferodethro to find Nay.

"Send me to the Outside so I could find a better purpose for all the years I have trained here. Send me out so I can forget this bloodthirst that is consuming me."

You know I cannot do that. Women do not venture to the Outside, and I need not tell you why.

"What makes you think I'm going to let a man touch me?" she scorned.

Her mother rolled her eyes, dismissing her comment on it. Even if it were allowed, I would certainly not send you away in this state of mind.

Nay grunted and threw her hands in the air. She felt the echo of her voice vibrate in her cheeks.

If you knew your father too well do you think he would want you to pursue whatever this madness that has taken over you?

"No," Nay cast a resentful look, "But he is not here to say it himself, is he?"

A silent gasp escaped her mother's lips.

"This is what I want."

I have done nothing but protect you, Nay. I pray you will not meet the day you feel sorry when you realize that.

"Protect me from what?"

Everything.

Nay felt the exhaustion in her mother's words as she tightened her eyes.

And I'm trying to protect you from yourself. I do not need to remind you why we remain in this stonehold. No matter what, we are to never step into the Outside until the dreamcatcher—

"Do you really believe that?" Nay remarked, derisively. Though it was dark, she could discern the disbelief in her face.

What is this? I- You- Have you no more faith in the Word?

"If you mean the cleverly fabricated lies every elder here has repeated for the last three hundred years, yes, I don't.

The shock on her mother's face was unpredicted, but familiar. Nay knew that look. She had seen it before. It was burned in her memory, like everything on that day five years ago, when the news reached them both. The worst way to ruin a perfect meal was to barge in with the news that your father is dead. Ever since then, lunch every day was aptly neglected or eaten alone.

Nay never forgot three things in her life. Her father's last words (recalled in difficulty in fear of forgetting it), her vow to find the person responsible for her father's death, and the dread of her mother's face. That day, she lost her husband, and today, perhaps she lost her daughter somehow too. Surely she knew that her daughter was never the same after that day, and if she didn't, Nay had reminded her now.

I... I should not have let your mind wander alone. Her expression was dreadful. I should have maintained my contact. I should not have trusted that time would heal what it could not mend. I thought, perhaps, if I gave you space, you would find peace in the Word as I have. But instead... I have allowed your heart to be turned into ashes. And it has consumed you. It is my undoing. I have allowed this. Her mother's hand went to her forehead.

Nay's eyes began watering, her fists clenched at her sides. "Don't you dare. Don't you dare make this about me," her voice cracked. "You were the one who chose to bury him in silence. To cling to your Word and pretend it gave you answers. It didn't. I doubt it ever will."

Her mother's lips trembled as she steadied herself, her voice lowering into a whisper. The Word has given me purpose when the world would have left me with nothing. It is what has kept this community together, even when we were crumbling to pieces.

"It didn't keep us together," Nay snapped. "It kept us trapped. Don't you see? In this stonehold. In this misery. And you knew it would. How long have we been here? Tell me!"

That is not

"Over three-hundred years!" Nay cried. "For generations! My father's father, and his father, and everyone before him! For a colony that is built on truth you all have very well proven yourselves the degree of your honesty. I wonder how much you are holding back from telling me, even with all that noise in your head."

I turned into a Frayed the moment your father was gone. So do not act like it has only burdened you! The apprehensiveness was replaced with a very visible frown. You think I don't feel the weight of it every day? The truth? The lies? They are all the same inside this Stonehold, Nay. They all bleed into one another until there is nothing left but the choice to survive.

Nay let out a laugh, mockingly, stepping closer. "Lies... I'm surprised you think it even exists here. Have we been faltering to encourage the truth, mother?"

If you knew what survival demands

"And what kind of survival is this? If survival means submission then it is survival by fear and not survival by will. Rules made by people who have long turned to dust, fecundated our food and gone to the ground again. And you're content to let me rot here with you? While I wait for a figurative saviour to come and lead us outside? No."

Her mother's face hardened, the flicker of vulnerability extinguished by a familiar steel. You speak as though the Outside is freedom, as though you know very well what it holds. The Outside is every reason why we remain here, though you don't wish to be reminded despite your ignorant and misplaced beliefs. When you see the horrors lying beyond these walls, you will wish for me, and I hope I am there to remind you once more that I did everything I could to protect you.

Her mother's shoulders slumped, the strength draining from her as though Nay's words had struck her in a way no argument ever could. For a long moment, there was only silence between them. Nay indulged in her thoughts for a silent moment.

Then, in a voice so soft it was almost inaudible, her mother said, "I only ever wanted to save you."

Nay read her lips. "Perhaps I do need saving. Saving from you. From this place." Another tear fell on the ground between her feet. She turned to leave, resisting the urge to say the words in her head. No one is coming to save us.

Even if no one will, it does not mean we are to abandon who we are, her mother implored.

Even if no will, I will save myself. I will save us.

She climbed the short flight of stairs, hearing her mother ponder, Help me, Yunqiz.

Nay knew he could never help her, though she wished he did. Every passing day she wished for it. She wished for only one thing—for her father to have been here, alive and beside her, so they could pray to the heavens together, humour her mother together, walk the Middle Hall together every morning on his way to the True Colony that lived beneath their feet. But she can never have that again. She could never have the serene life she knew that was fading from her memory, being burnt by her new schemes and intentions. All this because a boy was foolish enough to drag her father outside the Stonehold.

She was sure the boy must've had his reasons, but whatever they were, it came at the cost of losing Aba. And now, that boy was here, living within these very walls, while her father was nothing but bones in a tomb now.

The boy was here. Hiding, perhaps not, but blended well. The boy was here, and she was going to search the entire New Colony if she had to. The boy was here, and she was going to find him.

The boy was here, and she was going to end him.


___ _______________ ___


What are your thoughts on this chapter? Did anything surprise you, intrigue you, or leave you wanting more? I'd love to hear your theories, insights, and favorite moment. Drop a comment below-I read every single one!

Your engagement fuels this story, and your perspective adds depth to this world. Thank you for being a part of this journey.

Bạn đang đọc truyện trên: Truyen2U.Com