12 FROST 120
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They had stopped to rest, again. Feia glared at her, still sore from the woman’s outburst of undying faith. The same outburst that had called the creature that was stalking them. But she didn’t need to know that bit. The woman glanced over at Feia, shoulders hunched from where she kneeled. Her hands clasped together, her mind had wandered for the better part of the rest they’d taken. She sucked in a breath, let it out on a wheeze.
“What do you believe in?”
Feia glanced at her. What use was talk about faith? It was clear on her face, even if she didn’t realize it. But the woman could recognize it. She’d seen the look so many times when she posed the question. Most used it as a means to divulge how much bad luck she seemed to carry around with her. Others offered a little insight into their being and reasoning that the woman couldn’t relate to. Others still, like Feia as she regarded the woman, held disdain.
“I believe that you’ve royally fucked us.”
She blinked. “I believe this could be a test.”
“A test of what?”
“I don’t know. One of the Lords has seen us questionable and this is just — a test of our worth.”
“You can’t mean that.”
“But I do. This is...suffering. Grief. We’ve lost and will lose.” She took in another breath, brows furrowing. “Toben, the other two — we lost them. One to sacrifice, the others to —”
“Your mistakes.” Feia stood, loomed over her. “We lost them to your mistakes.”
Though it might have been a laugh, it sounded more like a cough when it left the woman. “Not my mistakes. The workings of the gods. You might not like it, but you know it.”
“You’re a loon.”
“Am I? I didn’t put myself here by choice.”
Feia paused, regarded the woman with the same level of distaste that she had before. Maybe a little stronger. The curl of her lip as she turned away was telling. The woman was used to being blamed. Blame placed upon her had been what lead to her being here, after all. The same blame that was carried into the legionnaires and tainted the view people had of her. She coughed, nails digging into the back of her hands as she clasped her hands harder, brought them to her face as she closed her eyes.
Feia would think her crazy, a fool, but it wouldn’t change that the fact that this was a situation they had little hope of getting out of alive. The more unfamiliar a terrain, the more likely it was that they were faced with danger. Even she knew that much, she wasn’t sure she could say the same for Feia, who rested as if there were nothing that could possibly take them.
Beyond them, where they could not see, stirred the whisperings of dread.
They had stopped to rest, again. Feia glared at her, still sore from the woman’s outburst of undying faith. The same outburst that had called the creature that was stalking them. But she didn’t need to know that bit. The woman glanced over at Feia, shoulders hunched from where she kneeled. Her hands clasped together, her mind had wandered for the better part of the rest they’d taken. She sucked in a breath, let it out on a wheeze.
“What do you believe in?”
Feia glanced at her. What use was talk about faith? It was clear on her face, even if she didn’t realize it. But the woman could recognize it. She’d seen the look so many times when she posed the question. Most used it as a means to divulge how much bad luck she seemed to carry around with her. Others offered a little insight into their being and reasoning that the woman couldn’t relate to. Others still, like Feia as she regarded the woman, held disdain.
“I believe that you’ve royally fucked us.”
She blinked. “I believe this could be a test.”
“A test of what?”
“I don’t know. One of the Lords has seen us questionable and this is just — a test of our worth.”
“You can’t mean that.”
“But I do. This is...suffering. Grief. We’ve lost and will lose.” She took in another breath, brows furrowing. “Toben, the other two — we lost them. One to sacrifice, the others to —”
“Your mistakes.” Feia stood, loomed over her. “We lost them to your mistakes.”
Though it might have been a laugh, it sounded more like a cough when it left the woman. “Not my mistakes. The workings of the gods. You might not like it, but you know it.”
“You’re a loon.”
“Am I? I didn’t put myself here by choice.”
Feia paused, regarded the woman with the same level of distaste that she had before. Maybe a little stronger. The curl of her lip as she turned away was telling. The woman was used to being blamed. Blame placed upon her had been what lead to her being here, after all. The same blame that was carried into the legionnaires and tainted the view people had of her. She coughed, nails digging into the back of her hands as she clasped her hands harder, brought them to her face as she closed her eyes.
Feia would think her crazy, a fool, but it wouldn’t change that the fact that this was a situation they had little hope of getting out of alive. The more unfamiliar a terrain, the more likely it was that they were faced with danger. Even she knew that much, she wasn’t sure she could say the same for Feia, who rested as if there were nothing that could possibly take them.
Beyond them, where they could not see, stirred the whisperings of dread.
