The Sight of Blood: Rhen's Story

-2- Forgotten

Rhen pushed herself as close to the edge of the rooftop as her courage would allow, her feet hanging over the sides so that she could wiggle them freely. She arranged the skirt of her linen shift so that her skin would not touch the sun-baked tiles, though she was still forced to squirm and shift until they had cooled enough for her to be comfortable. Rhen wasn’t allowed on the rooftops and would be punished if found out, but this year she had finally grown tall enough to see over the outer wall and she liked to watch the treetops. Gnarled oak branches twisted around each other to form a dense canopy, but were cut daily so they would not touch the wall. Carpenter bees buzzed lazily about and occasionally Rhen swatted at them, keeping her eyes sharp in hopes she might catch sight of a bluebird.

She asked her aunts sometimes what was out there beyond the confines of the temple, but every one of them would only answer “there is only the Forest.” Rhen decided she didn’t believe that, though. If the Forest was all there was, where did the priests go each year to find the conscripted? She tried to imagine what else might be out there, beyond the forest, but she couldn’t begin to guess. The Forest Temple had been and would always be the only home she knew.

A shiver passed down Rhen’s spine as Trissa passed beneath her on the cobbled path. Trissa was the only nessari she did not call “Aunt.” She was small – Rhen would be able to look her in the eye in a few more years – with honey-colored skin and greying hair. She was mute and blind, though she could walk everywhere without the need of a cane or guide. Trissa had been there longer than any other, Rhen was told. She didn’t look old – Trissa had an agelessness to her that added to the enigma. She had no duties in the temple, ate very little, and spent hours, day and night, walking the path that lined the outer wall. When Rhen asked why that was once her mother answered “because she has forgotten” and would say no more.

Rhen held her breath as the woman passed, remembering she was not supposed to be there. To her horror Trissa stopped at the edge of the building, then turned her head so that her white sightless eyes were looking straight at Rhen. Rhen froze and looked for a clear landing spot for her to jump. Trissa continued to stare at her, sightless, then simply turned and continued her path along the wall. Rhen did not move for a long time. At last she pushed herself up against the tiles of the roof and climbed along the peak until she found the thick clusters of wisteria she used as a ladder.

Someone was waiting for her at the bottom. The Delerin priest looked down at her with severity in his eyes. He wore fitted green robes with golden embroidery and his dark hair was arranged carefully around the slender curved ears. Rhen gaped for a moment before touching her chin to her chest, her hands clasped at the small of her back.

The priest sniffed the air. “What were you doing up there, child?” His use of the common tongue was strongly accented.

“I was climbing. Edran!” Rhen winced at the manners come too late. Better than being caught in a lie, at least. She didn’t want to go to the underground rooms.

“Climbing.” He lifted her chin with one hooked finger. “You are Asara’s young. What are you called?”

“My name is Rhen, Edran.”

He bent down to her eye-level, his eyes never blinking as he studied her. Rhen did her best not to look away. “Rhen. I suppose you would be. What do you dream about, child? The forest?”

She shook her head. “No, Edran. I dream about… about the under-rooms.”

Graciously, he let his hand drop and rose. “Good,” he nodded. “Be on your way and do not let me find you here again or I shall put you in one of those under-rooms. Do you understand?”

Rhen mumbled something between agreement and apology as she left as quickly as she could without breaking into a run. As she turned a corner she glanced back long enough to see the Deliri man place a hand at the base of the wisteria vines she had used to climb the building. At once the vines withered and blackened, twisting with decay. Rhen held her breath and did not release it until she was in her room again.