Now that the worst had come to pass, Rin was eager to be alone with her regret. She would have loved to spend time with Sree, but not like this. Without realizing it, she rose to leave.
“No need to flee on my account, sister,” Sree admonished as she herself stood and walked to the door. Rin desperately wanted to call her back but knew this would be a bad idea. With Sree in front of her, she would not be able to do what needed to be done. Crafting a knife to kill the person she loved most would be hard enough to begin with and downright impossible if she was constantly reminded of that love.
It took every ounce of Rin’s resolve not to call out as the figure of her sister slowly receded. To her dismay and relief, Sree stopped before the end of the hall. She appeared to be lost in thought. A moment later, she was back.
“Oh yes, I almost forgot. Since I don’t know what things will be like when next we meet,” she began — interposing her hand when Rin prepared to object — “it is best I tell you now, while I still can.”
Rin had to admit she was curious. What could Sree possibly have to tell her? She already had taken everything from Rin, and nothing short of a release from the promise could remedy that. However, having her hover in the hallway would not do. Even if the room wasn’t comfortable, it at least was private.
Sree reluctantly allowed herself to be led by the hand back to the cot. When they were seated, Rin smiled and strained to appear her usual self. She did not want their little remaining time together sullied by unspoken resentment.
“So, what is it that you need to tell me?”
“Sister, have you ever suspected that the protections are not a gift?”
So that’s what was going on. Even if it did not dispel the pall cast by Sree’s wish, it was something. Sree never had been given to melancholy as a child, but who knew what hidden toll the ages had taken. Perhaps her bubbly charm was just a facade, the last afterimage of the departed. An empty smile on an empty shell, long since consumed from within.
But this shell could not crack and betray its hollowness. It was an indestructible empty shell, and always would be. Rin had seen this before, in those she bound. But there was a difference. Time could repair what time had wrought, and Sree’s depression would pass. Rin just needed to wait her out.
She smiled, and for the first time since Sree’s request her smile was genuine. Sree wasn’t a lost cause. Her sister still could be dissuaded. Was that why she had turned back? Maybe the whole thing was just a bid for attention.
“That’s your melancholy speaking,” Rin replied.
She recalled something she had read about the difference between men and women. The author claimed that when women attempted suicide they often failed because they did not actually wish to die and it just was a cry for help. However, when men attempted suicide they almost always succeeded because they really wanted to leave the world. This struck Rin as simplistic and stupid, but there often was an element of truth in the simplistic and stupid. And it sounded like just the type of simplistic and stupid which could apply to Sree. Rin felt an ember of hope.
Sree immediately dashed that hope.
“No, that’s not what I mean. They have been very helpful at times, and for centuries I was grateful to have them. I am sorry if I seemed unappreciative of your gift.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Rin grumbled. “What exactly are you asking?”
“I do not wish to further upset you, sister,” Sree ventured. “But this is too important to shy away from.”
Rin impatiently waved her on, but she would not be hurried. When she spoke, it was in a slow and deliberate voice.
“Who gives such things away for free?”
Rin was unsure whether this was intended to be rhetorical or sarcastic or suspicious. Was Sree trying to anger her into fulfilling her promise? Rin already had agreed to it, and antagonizing her would serve no purpose. It didn’t make sense. She answered without hesitation and with more than a little heat.
“Your sister. And for most Proteges, they were not free. They were rewards or punishments or heavily paid for in one way or another. You were an exception. Or is that your concern? Do you doubt me, sister?”
Sree shook her head, frustrated at failing to make herself understood.
“I’m not speaking of obligation to you. Yes, you crafted them and could charge what you wished. But the protections themselves surely must carry a cost.”
“They do,” Rin observed dryly. “We cannot have children. I’m sure there are other things which would be deemed costs too. Obviously, you found immortality to be a burden.” She regretted the rebuke the moment it escaped her lips, but Sree didn’t seem to notice.
“Sterility is a side effect, not a cost. I speak of payment owed. We are demanding favors of the universe, after all. The universe owes us nothing, so what right have we to demand anything of it?”
Rin shrugged. “I doubt it cares. It probably has no mind or will. Besides, the universe does owe us. It gave birth to us, made us finite. It owes us everything we demand of it. The only difference between us and everybody else is that we collected the debt. You forget one other thing, sister.”
“And what is that?”
“The universe has not given anything away. We are part of it. It merely decided to preserve one part of itself.”
“Are you sure we’re part of it?” Sree asked.
“Of course we are. Probably. Maybe. I don’t know. What does that even mean? If we define the universe as everything that is, then what else could we be? We’re just debating semantics. That’s like asking what existed before time. It’s a meaningless question. So you see, sister. The universe did nobody a favor. It just imposed a constraint on its own behavior. You don’t cut your own arm off do you? Well, it’s the same thing.”
“But it cuts off all its other arms,” Sree objected. “I think this is more like hair. It cuts its hair, but we are hairs which refuse to be cut.”
“We’re tougher hairs. A head benefits from having tough hairs.” Despite the dire circumstances, Rin almost laughed at the absurd direction the conversation had taken. Only Sree could do that.
“Even so, it is hard to imagine that such things can be done with impunity.”
“What are you getting at?” Rin’s former tenderness was nowhere to be seen, and she was back to the curmudgeon.
Sree looked into her eyes with an unsettling earnestness. “Sister, there may be a heavy cost to these things.”
Rin smiled coldly. “Yes, there is. And I am collecting it.”
“Perhaps that is what you are doing, as far as the others are concerned. But what about you?”
Rin did not understand the question. “What about me?”
“You have more protections than anyone else. At least double the number if I am not mistaken. And you crafted all of ours too. If you are the cost for us, I shudder to think what the cost will be for you.”
So this was what bothered her little sister. It was touching, really. Even as she arranged her own demise, Sree worried about her sister’s imagined plight. Though pleased by the warmth of Sree’s love, Rin laughed derisively.
“Don’t fret over me, sister. Or are you trying to goad me into destroying you now?”
Sree sighed. “I hope I need not goad you. You already promised, and I simply ask it of you. By the same love which led you to freely bestow the gift upon me in the first place.”
Rin gave Sree’s concern some thought. It didn’t bother her but clearly bothered her sister. And that bothered her. Her voice softened, shedding the edge it had acquired.
“I appreciate your concern. But even supposing you are right, what form could such a reckoning possibly take? Who will deliver this judgment? And how?”
Sree contemplated her own hand for a few moments. Then she reached into her pocket and drew forth a sphere, holding it to the light.
“We all are so confident in these things.”
Rin’s sharp reply contrasted with Sree’s sleepy voice. “They are unbreakable. As are we.”
“So you said.”
A dangerous glint appeared in Rin’s eye. “Are you saying I lied? You ungrateful …” But before any expletives could follow, Sree interposed a smile.
“I know you never would lie to me, sister. You were told so, and so you believe, and so we all believe.”
Rin marveled at how quickly Sree could quell her anger, though she almost never needed to.
Sensing the change in mood, Sree continued her line of inquiry.
“Did you ever wonder if that really is true?”
“The gods do not lie.” Rin was surprised at her own perfunctory response. Even after millennia, the rigid training of a priestess lingered. Sree laughed, perhaps entertaining a similar thought.
“Surely, you no longer are so certain. The gods have changed many times over the years. Do you still even believe in the old ones?”
“Unlike you, I have reason to.”
“I suppose we all do,” mused Sree.
Rin shook her head. “You all have reason to believe in me. I alone have reason to believe in the gods.” Even as she said it, Rin realized how arrogant this sounded.
Sree laughed again. “Now, there’s the sister I love.”
“Are you saying she wasn’t here before?” Rin challenged. Despite herself, she too laughed at the tenor of the conversation.
“I once knew another who was given something grand,” Sree noted. “It came at a terrible price.” There was a wistful look in her eye, and the words had a dreamy quality.
"Time could repair what time had wrought." is a beautiful line. This was a surprisingly spiritual chapter.