Interlude - The girl and the old man

The girl lay chest down in the stone cold bed, naked above the waist. Sitting beside her, in the edge of the bed, an older man swirled his finger around a small wooden pot, bringing out a fresh-smelling green paste. He carefully laid the pot on a table behind the bed, and started spreading the paste on specific spots in the girl’s back, with the utmost care. Whenever he touched her, she would tremble uncontrollably and bite her finger, doing her best not to cry in pain. This went on for a few minutes, until the man cleaned the rest of the paste on the tip of his beard and cleaned the sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand.

     “I swear to the Six, Aaliyah, you’re one inch from being dead,” he muttered as he stood from the bed.              

     She turned as much as she could, a mix of pain and anger in her eyes, and whimpered, “Isn’t that what you wanted? Weren’t you the one who made me join this freaking cult?”

     “Don’t you go blaming the Justices for this, girl. You need to check that attitude of yours, that’s what’s getting you killed!” The man hissed, keeping his voice down as well as he could. Should he be found in her quarters, it would be the needle for both of them. “For years, I trained you, and not to see you getting whipped like a dog.”

     “Everything they do here”�"Aaliyah turned her head to the other side, facing the wall�"“it’s all wrong.”

     “Ignore their values, Aaliyah. Hold your own tight in your heart, but at least pretend to be one of them. After you’ve been drawn to a Justice, a slip like this will mean your death.” The old man paced the room in silence, feeling both guilt and anger. “You need to do this, Aaliyah. You don’t understand it now, and gods forgive me, do I wish I could explain it. But I can’t.”

     “Why can’t you just train me like you used to?” Aaliyah asked, still facing away.

     “Because I don’t have�"Look, you know I can’t. There’s nothing else I can teach you. Not if you don’t have the gift I do,” he replied, slumping down a chair near the bed. The room was small and empty, with nothing but a small table, the chair in which he now sat, and the bed. The room of a soldier.

     “Again with this f*****g gift,” Aaliyah laughed sarcastically, cringing from the pain.

     “Yes, Aaliyah. This f*****g gift”�"he put one hand in the bedframe and the wood near Aaliyah’s face cracked a bit, making way for a small sprout, as if it had broken from an egg�"“is probably the only thing that has kept you alive so far. Where do you think the plants I use to help you come from? How do you think I manage to sneak into the most dangerous building in the entire city? This. F*****g. Gift.”

     Aaliyah looked instantly ashamed, and her voice was almost begging, “I’m sorry, Paul. I’m just so pissed. At all of this. And a little bit at you, for making me do it. No, you’re right. Sorry.”

    “Be strong, Aaliyah. Survive this. And stop looking out for others so much, or at least so openly. You will join the Justice of Erst soon, and she’s as strong as she is merciless.” Paul got his mortar and pestle, now messy with crushed herbs and roots, and put them in his bag.

     “I will try, I promise,” she said unenthusiastically.

     “See that you do. It’s your life on the balance, girl.”

     Paul stood up once more and patted Aaliyah in the calf. He then scoured the room for anything he’d brought that he might had forgotten. The rooms were inspected each day, and lashed were distributed to those carrying any of prohibited items, which included almost everything not issued by the Collegiate.

     “Leaving?” Aaliyah asked, looking at him from the corner of her eyes.

    Paul hid his bag under his overcoat and acquiesced, “I can’t stay any longer, and you need to rest. I’ll try to come back one more time before you leave.”

     “Alright. Take care when you leave, Paul,” she sighed and rested her head.

    “Always do,” he flashed a brief smiled that soon faded as his body became invisible.

     The windows creaked open, and Aaliyah heard his feet stepping into the windowsill, followed by the sound of the wind beating down on his clothes as he jumped out of the building. They were on the sixth floor, but as Aaliyah had come to learn throughout the years, there was little Paul couldn’t do with his gift. Saving her from this Homeric mess, as it turned out, was one of them.