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For that reason, I cling to the walls and wait with anticipation until my seeker leaves empty-handed. Then, I silently navigate around the temple grounds until I find an opening that leads tomy escape. I make sure that no one follows me, that there are no wandering eyes that detect my fleeing form.
Once I am out of the temple, a weight lifts off my shoulders. While it relieves me, it also troubles me once I start reflecting on why I feel the way that I do.
I came to this temple looking for trouble, but I leave it as a changed man. Shana’s impact on me makes itself known quickly.
I don’t want to feel this way. Why? Why am I such a fool for her?
“Just go, Carus,” I scold myself, wanting to sink my nails across my skin so that I can focus on the pain instead of my thoughts. “Depart from this place as quickly as you came. It’s for your own good.”
The awakening city encapsulates me with each step I take. Light shines from only a few windows. Hardly anyone walks the streets at this time. There’s no one around to stare at me, wondering what I’m doing or where I’ve been.
Just as in the temple, I cling to the shadows. I make calculated movements. I try not to attract too much attention to myself. I long for the same peace I felt when I was still on the temple grounds, but I’m not willing to endanger Shana for that.
The quiet streets and the still buildings will have to suffice for now.
The connection between her and me clings to my soul. It makes me feel strange that I left her behind in the first place. A small part of me wants to go back to that temple and find her, no matter the consequences that would surely follow.
It’s innate. A primal feeling that seems as natural to me as breathing. Still, I must fight it off. Why is that so? Why can’t I just let it be?
These thoughts make me want to claw my own eyes out.
Eventually, I find refuge on a broken slab beside a dirty building. I sit on it and cover my face with my hands, wishingfor the darkness to swallow me whole. What good am I if I don’t have Shana by my side? That’s the question that keeps repeating inside my mind.
I shouldn’t feel this way, but I can’t help it. I yearn for her. I want her to be with me. This distance between us doesn’t do either of us well. I know it because I can feel it within my body, down to the very strands of my being.
When am I going to see Shana again? Soon? Or was that the first and last time that we will cross paths?
Shaking my head, I know what the right answer is. I will see her again eventually. I just don’t know when. Or how.
Emptiness fills me, reminding me of what I lost when I departed from those temple grounds. In the past, I liked being alone. I didn’t mind the solitude.
But now, it feels like a punishment worse than death.
How did a human do this to me?
9
SHANA
Iglance at the other handmaidens as I make my way to the worship room, secluded from all other facilities here in the temple of Karona. They’re tending to their duties and should stay that way, at least for a little while.
It means I’ll be left undisturbed in my prayers. I have many of them to utter on a day like today, especially after committing the sins that I did. I need as much space and silence as I can possibly acquire if I am to set things straight with myself.
I approach the heavy-set stone doors with caution. Pushing them open exerts a lot of strength, but it’s nothing I’m not used to.
Immediately I see all of the statues circling the room. The way in which their eyes have been carved makes it seem like they’re always watching me no matter where I step.
It feels as though I’ve just walked into a sacred space, one in which I do not belong. My gut twists with fear and guilt, their judging gaze a heavy reminder of what I’ve done, of the deed that’s brought me here under their mercy today.
“It’s dead silent in here,” I mutter to myself. “Almost too quiet.”
Then again, I shake it off. I have no right to complain when I‘ve found the very thing I was searching for. What I cannot shake off, though, is the violent shouting of voices inside my head, running amok with thoughts of remorse.
With the room as quiet as it is, it only gives traction to such patterns of thought. I inhale deeply and venture inward.
I’m near the center of the worship room when a draft breezes through the air, carrying with it a shivering chill.
In front of the prayer spot is a cabinet, on top of which are lines and lines of candles. I light each and everyone, but the draft comes again, causing the wicks to cease their burning. It only adds to the storm of tension I have raging away inside of me.
