Page 53 of We Were Eternal Once

“You think she will withhold it?” Menodotus asks.

“Perhaps,” Zahra says carefully.

“Then we must strive to be more worthy,” Menodotus says. “Let us show her our devotion, that we are not going to abandon her.”

“What of Melinoë?” Zahra asks.

“What of her?”

I strain harder, my muscles tense.

“She knows the gift,” Zahra says. “Perhaps she will teach us.”

“She will never defy Aletheia,” Menodotus scoffs.

“But she said she would teach us, and she has not, and much time has passed. Unless she told Melinoë not to, there is no reason to think she won’t,” Zahra considers.

“You’re suggesting subterfuge to go behind Aletheia’s back.” Menodotus at least sounds shocked.

“Are any of my words false?” Zahra asks. “You yourself have questioned⁠—”

“I question nothing,” Menodotus seethes. “You question her divinity by suggesting this route.”

“Do not pretend you don’t share my concern.” Zahra laughs.

I eye up the other road to travel—the one where I announce myself. I can stand now, unfurl my limbs from where I am crouched. I can remain silent until I am upon them, then I can reveal myself.

What I know, you will know.

I am about to stand when there is pressure on my arm. I turn quickly, my shock rising in my throat. It is silenced at the last moment by the sight of your long fingers resting on my arm.

How long have you been there? How did you approach so silently? Was I too focused on their words to sense your approach?

But it is not just me you’ve caught unawares. Zahra and Menodotus continue, their voices trailing away now. Whispers of their words, of the conversation continued then changed, reverberate back to us.

I shake with fury.

You are still, your empty eyes tracing their retreating form through the walls as if you can see them. Once the echoes of their words disappear, you remove your hand from my arm, then disappear into the darkness of the temple.

You assemble all the acolytes in the temple.

Menodotus stands opposite of Zahra, as if they weren’t just conspiring against you. You’ve said nothing to me about the nature of this meeting, but I can guess at it. You will punish them for their disloyalty. You will remind them why they follow you, that worship means total devotion. Questioning you is more than a betrayal, it is sacrilege.

I rock on my toes, unable to settle my excitement. It needs somewhere to go. I hope you allow me to assist in meting out punishment.

You open your arms to demand silence, and the muted whispers die.

“The gift of compulsion is not an easy one to learn,” you begin, and I frown. “It takes dedication, practice. An endless devotion to self. You will not master it today, or tomorrow, or next week. I expect you all to fail over and over again. You will want to give up. If you do…” You trail off, your red eyes skewering everyone one by one. “You are not welcome within these walls.”

This is your punishment? To give them what they don’t deserve?

“Come forth,” you say, and two humans step from the shadows. They stand shoulder to shoulder, faces blank, eyes unseeing.

“To coerce is to control, but you cannot force it. That is how so many fail—by thinking they can force devotion or obedience. The secret is making them think it is their idea.”

My frown deepens, because that is not how it is, and that is not how you taught me.

“One step forward,” you instruct. The humans obey.