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six

Dove

I clutch at the strange sensation in my chest. It’s almost like there is a cord pulling me towards something. I do not know what, though. There have been times I have felt this odd knowing before, but never to this extent.

Water splashes around me as I spin, trudging back to the shoreline. “Wren?” I call out, but I know.

I know the odd feeling has nothing to do with her. Wren lives curled up deep in my heart. From there, she whispers her melodic tune in safety, where no one else can get to her. However, I have been finding it harder to reach her.

Once again, she is silent. She doesn’t like it when I get sad, or the deep aching where my skin feels too heavy for my body. In those instances, words will never be enough. She is here. She will always be here, even when I step through the veil between worlds.

A loud silence continues to greet me, just my heavy breath for company as I proceed to drag my drenched body out of the seawater. The strange tug slowly subsides as my mind begins to right itself.

“Are you finished?” Excellent timing, as always.

“Quite finished, I think.” My lips tremble, and my skin pimples as the words tumble out. “Did you feel that?”

“I feel what you feel,” comes her almost sarcastic reply.

“Ver-rry helllp-fu-lll, than-nnk yoo-ou.” The sharp chill sinks deep as my teeth chatter.

I need to find my way back to the hot springs before my bones rattle from my body. Turns out, moon-drenched swims are not fun when it’s freezing cold outside.

A slight tinkle of laughter vibrates through my body, warming it slightly. I scowl.

Hurriedly, I make my way back to the tunnel. However, something is different. It moves me. The air seems to taste sweeter, the moon shines brighter and my step is lighter. Maybe it’s hope . I haven’t felt this in so long. What a strange sentiment.

A long, winding path leads me through the tunnels under the temple until I find a mist curving the corner—the hot springs, a bathing ground for all who live in the temple. The local hot waters are said to heal all.

Hopefully, they can mend an aching, barely distinguishable heart . I’m pretty sure it is just a pile of rubble rattling around my chest at this point.

With soft steps, I make my way into the sacred space. This late—or early—in the morning, I do not usually see any people. Moving my way through the steamy mist, glow-worms twinkle above, leaving slimy tendrils of light. I find the furthest pool—a small outlier to the larger springs—in the centre of the room.

On my way, I grab a small, herbal-infused soap and towel, but I come up short when I see golden yellow hair waterfalling the edge of my pool.

My feet halt their course, and I’m tempted to make a retreat when a strong but smooth voice greets me. “Come, Dove. I do not bite.” That is questionable, considering the stories . Cardinal, the high priestess and consort of the king is anything but soft or timid. She is a formidable woman who has taken a keen interest in my welfare since I was a youngling. Now, as a young woman of twenty-five, I respect her authority for the opportunities she has afforded me when she could’ve left me to the mercy of the streets as an orphan all those rotations ago.

I lower my head and follow the light splashing as Cardinal shifts her body to the side, making room in the smaller pool, barely big enough for the two of us.

Those icy eyes do not leave my body as I make haste to drop my blanket, pinafore and blouse. Being shy within your nudity is not a luxury one possesses when living with women who bathe together. They are just bodies that need to be cleaned. Though, the way Cardinal views my body makes a shiver run through the small hairs on my skin.

“Come, sit.” She lifts her long, wet hair to the side and places her arms on the stone ledge behind her, not moving her eyes off my chest. “Such a shame,” she continues as I neatly pile my clothes and towel before moving opposite her in the spring, the heat of the water chasing away the chill.

She cocks her head, gliding her body closer to mine. “You would’ve been such a pretty thing if it wasn’t for these scars.” Moving my hair aside, she runs a warm finger from my right ear along uneven skin all the way down my throat and to the top of my exposed upper chest. The trail she leaves feels cold despite the warmth of her finger and the bath we are immersed in.

I look ahead, my eyes off her ministrations, and she journeys back up my scarred flesh until she finds my chin. Gripping it in hand, she moves my head towards her, my earthen green eyes pouring into her icy ones. “Hmmm. Yes, you could have been a priestess, yet… A pity, really.”

Caught off guard within her gaze, a long-ago buried memory springs forth. Inhaling sharply, I face the rippling water between our naked bodies.

Releasing her grip, Cardinal gives a chuckle. “Always such a jittery little thing.” Compared to the rest of the priestesses, I am small. Maybe it is from my lack of nutrition in my formative rotations, or just my lot in life. A priestess is elegant, voluptuous and, above all, posed in her pursuit of eternal salvation. They are the keepers of the veil, the Goddess’s disciples. They are everything I am not. I am a tiny, thin, clumsy servant girl who cannot speak to others and is scared by the wrath of life. Not priestess material.

Gripping the stone step beneath my bottom, I focus on the outline Cardinal casts in the tiny ripples of water. Even in turmoil, she is beauty.

“Such a fragile little bird.” The water rushes beside me as Cardinal stands, grabbing her towel. “Blessed be thy Goddess.”

As her voice moves over me, I watch Cardinal drift away within the ripples of the pool. “Blessed be thy Goddess,” I whisper in a sigh, sinking my whole body into the warmth of the spring’s embrace.

Under the water, I close my eyes and focus deeply within. I am greeted once again with that strange tug where the rubbles lay in my centre. It fills me with peace, a feeling that nothing within this Goddess-forsaken temple can replicate. It is an understanding—one I should’ve grasped onto earlier in the night.

The tugging sets a small spark inside my chest that smoulders low, more present than ever before. Holding my hands to my heart, I set my rubbles to cinder with the anguish that cleaves my body, a certain beast standing to attention within the lining of my beating organ.

I wish I could be more for you, but this is all I have to offer.