The Endless Solvent

Aris had no idea why she was doing what she was doing either. It matched her misery: the throbbing pain that didn’t completely leave her skull and the lingering resentment over everything spilled over like an overfilled cup. She imagined soaking them all in misery - maybe that will help her feel better. Did she want them to understand? Or did she simply want them to take her burden as the weight of it was slowly crushing her? Or was she simply bored?

No, she wanted one of them to bring this madness to an end, whether it be they abandon her and this ‘expedition’ or they snap and finish her off. She didn’t want to have funny conversations with Verne anymore, nor did she want to envy how normal he and Laell sounded. She didn’t want to be confined to the damn cart anymore. She just wished she was somewhere else, wanted to sleep and dream of days when she still had her family.

One of the Parts is dreaming. A whisper in the back of her mind pondered: was that what the Part was dreaming of as well?

Now that she’s failed to make Camaz strangle her to death, she can't decide who to target next. Laell probably had a ten-pace long list of things that would set her off but Aris doubted the runist had any experience with murder or even at hurting anyone beyond self defense. Women permitted to attend the Academy were typically highborn enough to receive an education - it meant Laell most probably came from a wealthy background. Aris can’t imagine murder being on her resume.

Aris had an inkling that the runist harbored a bit of a crush on her mentor, although she wasn’t certain that was the case. Her solute would react to Camaz talking to her as if she was afraid but keen on his attention at the same time. Aris couldn’t really see why the professor would have any admirers - they weren’t even in the same department! Perhaps he did look decent for his age (from what she could remember) but surely the Sekrelli noble would be closer in age. Verne was also a nobleman with connections and, from what she’s pieced together, one of the top students in the Manus department. Why on earth would anyone pick an aging Professor over that?

Then there was Verne himself. Anything she said seemed to roll like water off his back. He must have known he would be a target because he treated everything she says like a joke.

“How would your dear parents think about you being treated like a horse all the way out in savage lands?” she once asked him, bored by his lack of reactions. Maybe he wouldn’t like her mentioning his parents. Families were rarely happy among noblemen.

They had traveled some more and Camaz and Laell went off to find resources and to scout out the area. Aris suspected they were doing it to avoid her as well. That left Verne to rest from having to pull the cart for most of that morning. From what Aris could tentatively feel out with her hands, it seemed to be a cart commonly used for merchants hauling goods. The front could be hitched to one horse but depending on the items on the cart, it could also be pulled by a person. “My parents don’t know I’m here,” Verne said. She heard him gulp water from a waterskin. “This assignment was conducted in secret. It would be remiss of me to tell them.”

“But they will find out you’ve gone so far east eventually. Fought the big scary blue people. Saved a Caelisian. Maybe they’ll disown you.”

“My parents aren’t unreasonable people,” he said, voice amused.

“They’re Sekrelli,” Aris said. If she had eyes she would roll them. “Unreasonable us bred into them. Why else would an entire kingdom of people be so blindly religious?”

“My family is actually quite neutral,” Verne said. “They say all the right things to appease the right people but my father was never one for religious services or quoting religious texts. It displeased my grandfather and my father frequently was beaten for it. He did not deign to do the same to me.”

Aris gave a scoff. “If you need to beat the belief into someone, it’s not a belief worth associating with.”

“Then what would you have me do?” He didn’t sound confrontational or angry. That just made Aris more annoyed.

“I don’t know. Kill your grandfather? Renounce your kingdom? Anything to distance yourself from such a silly set of beliefs.”

“Is it so silly to believe in the Parts?” he asked. “I must defer to you, a known Caelisian, who worships the sun and the moon.”

“You see the sun and the moon cross the sky every day and night. They actually do something.”

“So must I be able to see something to believe in it?”

“No, you should worship something that is worthy of being a god,” Aris said. That rewarded her with a stunned silence. Finally she said something blasphemous enough to get a reaction.

But his response was still irritatingly calm and now infuriatingly compassionate. “What in Part’s name happened to you, Aris?”

“Camaz has been trying to drag the information out of me for days, do you think you have a better chance?” she sneered.

“No. But I would like to know how such a kind hearted person became like this.”

Kind hearted? Never in her life has she been called that. It was her turn to be stunned into silence. “I was never kind.”

“I beg to differ. I was a silly Sekrelli boy about to swear off food after seeing they were being prepared with runes out in the market. You showed me it wasn’t a big deal.”

“Oh yes, your tree delusion,” she said dismissively.

“The point is I joined this assignment to repay that kindness.”

“You wasted your time since it wasn’t me.” For some reason she was stubborn about admitting to it. She wanted to feel that the girl she was on the island was no longer there.

“None of us know why you’re acting like this,” Verne sighed. “Perhaps I should just ask you. What do you want me to do?”

Aris paused, staring at Verne’s deep green solute. So still, so earnest. He really wanted to know. Perhaps he would even do it. There were worse ways to go. “I want to die,” she whispered.

“I’m not going to kill you,” he replied, nonplussed by her words. She might have known Camaz would have warned him about this. Verne was no longer there to make sure she stays, he was there to make sure she stays alive.

She raised her head. “What if I told you I killed one of your gods?”

“I would say you’re lying.”

“Verne, look at my face,” she said. “Look at my eyes. This is what happens when you take a Part’s eyes.”

There was a movement then steady steps next to her cart. Verne had gotten up and started pacing. “That’s impossible.”

“Is it?” Aris laughed, the sound sending a jolt of pain through her again. “Because you don’t think a Part can die? They can, Sekrelli. I made it happen. Get Camaz to make me speak the truth. I’ll say the same thing.”

With savage satisfaction, she listened to him pace. Religion was the thing that got to him. Fanatics were all the same.

“You think the Parts would forgive me for taking one of their own? If you were a good little believer of your gods, you’ll have to get rid of me sooner or later. Your gods would demand that of you. You’ll make your kingdom proud.”

His pacing slowed. Is solute flickered but otherwise inscrutable. If she had normal sight, would she be able to tell what he was thinking? Her ears strained to hear him picking up his weapon to strike her down. Aris wasn’t afraid. Pain had been her constant companion and this would be no different, except there would be a definite ending.

Instead a big calloused hand took hers and pressed something soft into her palm. “I’m not going to hurt you,” Verne said firmly. “Regardless of what you say or what you did.”

She had expected the sharp sting of death, but instead now she held something soft and familiar in her hand. She felt the sewn edges and knew it was the handkerchief she left behind that day they first met to put buns on. He had it with him.

“I apologize for mistaking you for my acquaintance from years ago,” he continued. “I hope you take this kindness and pay it forward. You have a debt to pay now, Aris. You can’t die.”