I swatted at his chest, then crossed my arms. I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the smile filling my face.
“How long have you been here?”
“Every dawn since Dung Eater Kaelthos turned your body into a butcher shop.”
My eyes widened. All the memories came flooding back at once. The lack of Presbitari and Farasee presence. Our lessononThe Principles of Righteous Judgment. The Scourgers. The accusation against the Marked.
“Stars! The Marked!”
Quazar looked at me for a fleeting moment. He was sitting cross-legged, observing me. Then he leaned forward, gripped my thighs and pulled me to him, resting my knees between his legs. He wrapped a pair of his obsidian wings around my waist. The emerald tips brushed my hips. Quazar brushed my hair away from my eyes.
“They’re safeandalive.” His throat bobbed. “Thanks to you.”
My shoulders sagged with relief. Thank the burning stars. I snorted, looking down at our tangled legs.
“Obedience or sacrifice. What a twisted…”
My words trailed off. Kaelthos’s lesson burned into my mind. I reached a hand to my neck, remembering the beating. The torture. The humiliation. Thebreaking.
I was covered in scars now. A lifelong reminder of what it truly cost to be a Disciple in this Hèls-infested temple.
“Manmi never said it would be like this.”
I rubbed the scars. If my neck was like this, what was my back like? And why had Zara left me like this? Her mending could remove any scar.
“I assume she was given strict orders not to say a word.”
I lifted my eyes to meet his. They were soft. Gentle. This was a side to him I didn’t see often. Not around the others. It was a side he kept hidden from everyone except for me.
“How long have I been recovering, Quazar?”
“Six weeks.”
“SIX?”
“Six. It would’ve been shorter, but thanks to Kaelthos you weren’t allowed treatment from a Raephim. Zara tried to sneak in twice and mend you. She was caught each time and removed from the wingtower until you mended on your own.”
“Golden-eyed monster,”I whispered down our bond.
I knew the Zamariens hated us Anathelles.
I didn’t realize how deep that hatred ran.
“I can’t believe he’s a Farasee.”
I stopped short. That was rich coming from me. Because what the Zamariens had done to me, the Anathelles had done to the Marked.
And worse.
For Ages.
I bit my lip. It was time I took responsibility for my actions. The actions of my Matriarchs.
“Quazar, I owe you an apology. It’s not enough, but I will give it nonetheless.”
He stilled, his eyes burning like a bright green flame. I looked him head on, swallowed my pride, and confessed.
“You never hurt my Manmi. You weren’t anywhere near her. Near the Seal Gate. You were probably still at Azarath at the time. The empyrean likes to blame you. The Marked. You’re the scapegoats of the islands. We automatically blamed you. Blamed your angels. We called you Fallen. We said you were cursed. I was raised to hate you. I was wrong.”
