I do laugh now, incredulous.
“And they think it’s me? Because of this?” I exclaim, gesturing at my face.
“You’ve seen our ink,” Orrian pulls back his hair to reveal the entirety of the elegant tendrils stretching from temple to below the ear. “Most of us get them hoping that we may be the one, that our marks will distinguish us as the hero of our people. The one to fight the Halpha, we spent our entire lifetimes preparing for it, all in the hope that if we are destined for the fight then we should be ready.”
I don’t know what to say, the dots slowly connecting in my mind as I realise the meaning behind all those whispers, all the sly glances and the prolonged stares. Now I know why the tribespeople had accepted me into their numbers so willingly, they are praying that I am the one their people have been waiting for all this time.
“Can you not see the hope that you bring my people? For generations we’ve been inking and preparing ourselves and yet when uprooted from our home and in our darkest times, when all seems bleak as we are slowly hunted down, you arrive. Someone bearing the marks, not inflicted by ink, but by nature, by the forest!” Orrian’s voice rises as he reaches the last part, sounding more and more sure of himself. He looks at me expectantly, despite everything we’ve been through there’s still a glimmer of hope behind those eyes, like he’s almost expecting me to suddenly reveal my true identity.
“I don’t- I’m not-” I start.
“You don’t know who you are, and neither do we, not really, but please don’t destroy this for them,” he interrupts pleading. I also get the feeling that he’s asking for his own sake, unwilling to have his hopes crushed.
The idea that I’m the one whose duty it is to ward off the apocalypse and stand toe-to-toe with a demon, all because of my deformity, is absurd. It’s unfounded and it couldn’t have happened to a less worthy fighter. But regardless, a part of me warms to the fantasy, for so many years I have been treated harshly, bullied, treated tentatively and with suspicion, yet I walk among these people and they immediately hold me in such high regard. For once my skin has marked me favourably instead of as someone who should be avoided. Perhaps this tribe is where I really belong, but then of course I would have to resign to living a lie for the rest of my days. My throat tightens at the thought, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself under the pretence of such a false persona.
I know it’s not my place to remove the last hope that these people have. It’s not in me to add to their list of destroyed and broken things. I cannot be the one to tell them, to reveal my doubts, but at the same time I don’t know if I’m willing to lead on their beliefs either.
We sit in silence for several long minutes, Orrian giving me time to process. Behind, the recovering travellers can barely be heard over the orchestra of crickets around us.
“You’ve been making friends. I saw what you did with your shoes, thank you, she’s a good lady,” Orrian says, ready to change the subject.
“Yeah, she is,” I reply, a little surprised that he’d had time to pay me any attention since we last spoke. “They all are.”
“I know,” he says with a smile. “I just hope they’ll leave us alone when they don’t find us in the mountains. I set Faelyn about blocking up the entrance so with a bit of luck they’ll never even know we were there.”
Orrian stares wistfully into the distance. He looks out into the distance like he can see our destined paradise before us, just out of sight but well within reach. He really is the king his people need, even now, on the run and homeless, his presence assures me that all promised goodness in this world hangs ripe and ready for our taking.
“Somewhere out there is a future, somewhere we can go back to being safe, where we can rebuild,” he says dreamily.
I pause, it hasn’t been lost on me that the further we put between ourselves and the colony is added distance between me and my family. Orrian notices the brief rush of air as my words get caught in my throat.
“You can always go back you know,” he says, “I don’t want you to, it’s a tough and dangerous journey. I would never force you to come with us, but I think it’s best for everyone if you stay,” he assures.
“Yeah I know,” I snap, it may be unfair to take it out on him but a part of me still blames Orrian for getting me into this mess. I pause wondering whether I should apologise. I have gotten used to addressing him informally but even still I’m sure that’s not how one is supposed to talk to a king. He seems to have noticed nothing and instead looks at me as if waiting for me to continue.
“You can stay with us if you want. We’re safer together and it looks like you’re pretty much one of us now,” Orrian adds when I don’t continue. “Think about it. Come on, we should get moving again.”
Orrian pats me on the shoulder and begins to rouse his people back onto their feet, leaving me lost deep in my own indecision.
CHAPTER TWELVE
We have been travelling for a couple of days now. With each passing hour we continue our laborious journey onwards, our stores our getting inevitably low and we are having to rely more and more on the hunters who stray from our group and return late in the evening. As each night arrives, we set up camp, taking turns to watch over each other in the darkness.
I knew Orrian’s people
