THIRTYFOUR

It had been days since anyone had last seen Theos, and part of me was glad. I didn't think I could face him like this. Not after the realisation.

Though not in the way one might think.. it was a strange thing, forgiveness.

It made no sense that the whole time that Mare's guilt had seemed so bound in stone, I blamed him. Completely and utterly I blamed him for her death.

-But now.. now that Mare's name had been freed from the traitorous chains it once bore, now that Theo's guilt seemed impossibly pronounced, I blamed him far less. I couldn't even bring myself to blame him, not one bit.

Probably because every inch and ounce of my hatred burned towards Flick. That lying, scheming, murderous bitch.

She was the real killer, not Theos who sentenced her, not the man to pull the lever, but Flick herself.

She might as well have tied the noose herself.

I wanted to hurt her, I wasn't sure how.. yet. I just knew I wanted to. I wanted to watch her blood as it poured from her, thick and red and beautiful, in a way.

Ozymandias in all his silvery wisdom told me that the path to true redemption, was through the fires of forgiveness.
But I could not forgive what I could not forget.

Maybe the worst thing that could possibly happen to Flick now, would be to carry on living. To live out the rest of her life alone, with only her Bastard babe who in one day, in turn would learn to hate its vapid mother.

I had cried to Ozymandias, that I wasn't strong enough to forgive. I never would be. Instead I let my hate consume me.

He had bore an unfamiliar glint in his eyes, maybe it was determination. Or maybe it was just moonlight. But he gave my hand a reassuring squeeze, and told me that in time everything would be alright.

He said that Theos was a good man, to trust in him, and that I did. Though I did doubt him, as he seemed just as rash and unpredictable as I did in our grief.

However I did trust him, as I knew he would never do anything to deliberately hurt me, and I trusted in his new found hatred towards the monster that had ruined the both of us.

"Artemis you can't dwell on it." Carmen ripped me from my wondering mind. "Especially when there is nothing to be done."

"There is everything to be done." I hissed with more venom that I had meant to. I bit my lip as I watched the child huddle closer to Carmen in her lap. "Sorry."

"It's fine." Carmen pursed her lips, frowning down at the child, "Dalia you're safe."

The child stared at me with wide purple eyes, though she never quite seemed to meet my eye. My brows knit together, staring back at the child, hoping to catch her glance, but she still refused to look at me.

"Is she scared of me?"

"No."

"She can hear you, you know." Pollux adjusted his position in his chair. "So stop talking about her like she's not sat right in front of you."

I bit my lip, before talking softly to the child. "Dalia.. how old are you?"

Her milky violet irises scanned the room for the source of the sound, but yet again she either couldn't or wouldn't find my face.

"She won't answer you." Pollux's snapped, inhaling impatiently.

Carmen answered my unspoken question before I even had time to verbalise it myself, it must've been evident in my face. "She's mute, she hasn't spoken a word since she came to the labs..."

I wondered what unspeakable atrocities had been committed against this child for her to refuse to speak again.

Yet at the same time I come completely understood her pain.

I had tried to many times to fight back, to cry out, to scream for them to stop. Everything was futile, and resisting only made it worse so in the end I gave up.

For a while I myself was mute.

Bound into the solitude of my own silence.
But there was a strength in that empty nothingness, they took pleasure in my screams, they begged for me to cry.

This was the only thing I could refuse to give them, to show them they they would never break me.

They could have my body but they would never have my soul.

"Dalia became your replacement after you were blinded, all the tests they had once done on you were repeated onto her.. that's why she won't look at you."

Everything seemed to click into place.

They had taken her eyes too, blinded her in the barrel of fiery liquid.
Every prod, every pike. Every stab of a needle, every scorch of substance. She had felt it all, and more.

Everything I had ever been through, she had been through it all, tenfold.

***

"That poor child." Ozymandias murdered, as I passed him the bottle of bourbon and he pressed it to his lips.

"I know." I said, pinching the bridge of my nose to ward off the brewing migraine and holding out my hand for the bottle back. "Can we talk about something else now please."

I took a deep swig of the fiery liquid, letting it coarse down my throat that was sore and aching from the tears and wracked and the sobs that shook.

"Is there still no sign of Theos?" I asked.

"Nothing." He replied dejectedly, "Unless you count the few trees with bark that appears to have been shredded by a particularly angry wolf.."

"Sounds like it's for the best." I laughed humourlessly, "I dread to think what he would do if he came back to find us drinking all of his best liquors."

The old man chuckled, his silver dreads shifting light in the midday sun. "I don't really want to end up like those trees."

"Me neither."