I give it to you. Absolve me.
If Taryel’s translation was accurate, if the poem spoke of the artifact like Ru suspected it did, then the heart had not been stolen from Taryel’s breast. It had beengivento him.
“Taryel,” Ru breathed, as understanding began to glimmer, “had you considered the possibility that the artifact isn’t your heart at all?”
Morning was dawning in pale hues over the shimmering hills, accompanied by a distant cacophony of birdsong. Ru and Taryel emerged from the dim interior of the temple just as the sun began to crest the horizon, and watched together as the sky warmed to purple, then pink.
“It can’t be aboutme,” Taryel said at last. His overcoat collar, black and gold-embroidered, was turned up against the cold. “This temple is thousands of years old.”
Ru said nothing, even though she knew the structure could be no more than eight or nine hundred years old. Now wasn’t the time for pedantry.
“It’s just a silly poem,” he continued. Turning, he frowned at her over his coat collar. “But you disagree.”
“Is it really that silly?” Ru said, almost sheepish. “I know I’m supposed to be the scientific one of the two of us, but… I’m beginning to think I’ve been too narrow-minded. Consider where we are, everything that’s happened. What if the poem isn’t about you specifically, but a general sentiment? It’s likely this isn’t the first time someone has destroyed something in Festra’s name, or… at least done something terrible.”
“Of course it isn’t,” Taryel said, almost scoffing. “People have been committing atrocities since the beginning of time, almost always in the name of some god or another.”
“Then what if that plaque is part of Festra’s doctrine? Something that’s been lost over the centuries, or forgotten by his followers, or ignored.” She was embarrassed to theorize as if the god were real, and even more ashamed to admit that she was starting to believe it. She wrapped her arms around herself as much to stave off the cold as to hide. “You told me so many things back at the Shattered City. None of it made sense, not really. No — don’t try to argue, you know it didn't.”
He grinned, his interjection swallowed.
“So let me just… let me say it. I need to voice this theory, even if it's madness.”
Taryel’s hair blew across his eyes, and he pushed it aside, watching her intently in the pale light. His skin was so fair in the early morning, in contrast to the black of his rough beard and his unkempt hair. She drank in the sight of him as if desperate to drown.
“Tell me,” he said.
“Let’s assume, for a moment, that deities are real,” said Ru. “Festra is an ancient god, no longer worshiped by any modern religion. His remaining followers are few and far between. For that reason, he’s misunderstood. The story I read inGods & Glories… Consider the possibility that it’s, well, inaccurate. It depicted Festra as a god of righteous fury, cleansing disbelievers with fire.”
She pushed her hair out of her face, twisting it impatiently and tucking it into her collar. “But what if that’s not true? What if he was a loving god, and it was his followers who twisted things? Humans are nothing if not selfish and ignorant. I mean, could King Alaric, could others long before him, have worshiped a Festra who didn’t exist in the way they envisioned? And what if Festra knew the way humans are, knew his followers would stray toward evil, and did something other gods hadn’t? He made a contingency plan.”
A long fingertip tapped Taryel’s chin as he frowned, thoughtful. “I’m trying to keep up. What’s the contingency, then? The artifact? I’d say it’s done a bit more harm than good so far.”
Ru shook her head, impatient. Thoughts crowded at the edge of her mind, all out of order. “Yes. I mean, no. You said that in the Destruction, your heart was ripped from your body and buried. Meanwhile, Festra’s plaque speaks of resurrection. What if your immortality is the resurrection? And what if Festra feels responsible for the crimes committed by his followers?”
She was speaking faster now, her words barely able to keep up with her thoughts. “Taryel, what if Festra didn’t remove your heart at all — what if the heart ishis? Keeping you alive this whole time, just waiting for the chance to… I mean, what if…” Ru began to gesticulate, grasping at empty air as if it might demonstrate her thoughts aloud. “You and me, Taryel. We were called to the artifact on the same day. Whether it was fate or the hand of an ancient god, it wasn’t a coincidence. We’re tied to it. Tied together. I know you agree with that, at least.”
“I do, but—”
“We’re meant to absolve him, I think.”
“Who?”
“Festra! Taryel, keepup.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “Your mind works ten times faster than mine. You talk about resurrection, absolution, but all the artifact has done is cause us pain. Look at you, Ru. I see the vitality draining from you, day by day.” His voice faltered as he spoke. “If anyone needs absolving, it’s me. But I don’t deserve it.”
“Yes, you do,” Ru said quietly. “You’re a good man, Taryel. You were naive, young, and misled. But now we have to figure out what Festra wants, how to absolve him, how to absolveus.”She hesitated, heat rising in her cheeks. “If any of this is even close to accurate.”
Taryel frowned more deeply, and a strange, almost guilty look crossed his face for a brief moment. “But why you?”
The wind picked up, and Ru moved toward him thoughtlessly, drawn always into his tenebrous orbit.
“I don’t know,” she said, her voice muffled against his chest. And with those three words came a crashing wave of uncertainty. Either Ru had been born to walk these very steps and speak these words, had lived with her entire life mapped out in advance by the hands of a god… or it was random, fate was but a fiction, andanyonecould have stumbled upon the artifact.
Anyone could have found themselves joined to Taryel, soul to soul.
Neither option comforted her.
