The Loneliest Traid

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  • Published: 2 Apr 2017
  • Updated: 13 May 2017
  • Status: Complete
Love and death and war and Gods and blood and magic and dancing and rest and revenge and kings and fate.
Don't worry, within these three stories you'll know yourself,
And I will put you back together again.


80. Vu

There were ghosts, and Ichais knew them all.

    On the trail into the mountains, passed the towns and villages that now were throwing parties through the days and long into the mornings - you passed gastes, downhill a bit, but it caught you in its hands and pulled you down to it.  Before they noticed, their faces were pressed to the bars, and the souls looked right back at them.

    Not them.  Her.  Ichais.  They didn’t smile.

    “What’s wrong?” Estha said this to als of them.

    “I know you, how do I know you?” her voice a ghost itself.

    The bodies moved, a ripple from far back, moving to the front. A girl - pretty, familiar, bloody, in white, “Don’t you remember me?”

    And it clicked.

    “Estha, let’s go,”

    “Wait, but-” she pulled against her hand.

The preacher tutted through bloody gums, “She’s ashamed.”

“No wonder,” the stable keeper said, “She ate us, and here we are haunting her.”

“Did you tell her, Estha?”

    “How you ate us slowly?”

    “Or how you wear our clothes?”

    “How you held me?  And said her name instead?” the girl sang.  They sang, like holy chimes, funeral bells, what she had done.

    Ichais turned to Estha, “I’m sorry.”

    For a moment, it felt as though everything that had just happened had been nothing.  But it was fate, and that is never nothing.

    “I don’t care,” she sighed, “Let them blame you, or trick you, or make you want to find forgiveness.  They’ve survived their own way, a preacher who taunted sinners, and a girl who stole lovers away, and a stable keeper who touched what wasn’t his.  You’ve lived your own way, and I can’t blame you for that.  How can I, when you excuse the fact that I’ve done the same?”

    They stopped singing, and Ichais pressed her lips to her cheek, and then - they were on the mountain again, as if nothing had ever happened.

    That part - that was not us.  The fates sat back, and watched, helpless.

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