Page 138 of Salt in the Seas
Sylmar grunted. “Any day that Cyrus seems quieter is a good day. But he was in your boat, not mine. I expect you know best.”
“I’m going to check on him before I relieve Lukai from watching over Iris.” She stood, and Sylmar leaned heavily on his staff to rise with her. “Sylmar, if you didn’t see the curse, what did you see?”
He hesitated, unable to hold her gaze. “I saw two paths. One in which I killed Mayvus, and one in which Mayvus killed me.” The grim line of his lips disappeared beneath his mustache and beard as he pressed them even tighter, then he nodded good night and headed toward the bedrolls.
She watched him go, torn over his morbid revelation but unsure how to help him. He hadn’t seemed as surprised as she felt. Maybe he’d had time to come to terms with it. But she also suspected he’d imagined those two paths himself long ago, and he’d come to terms with it before Lady Merinnia had ever revealed the detail of the visions.
She made her way to Cyrus’ temporary worship circle, making enough noise to ensure she didn’t surprise him. Then she waited a respectful distance, allowing him whatever time he needed to finish his worship.
“I’m sorry I didn’t ask about the curse,” he called over to her. It was as good an invitation as any.
She stepped closer, then kneeled beside him. “I don’t think you had any control over it. I was frustrated at first, but no more with you than with Lady Merinnia. The system feels flawed, like some sort of sadistic way for her to use her power.” She frowned down at the grass. “But maybe I only feel that way because we lost Holm.”
He nodded, his pained expression returning to the Stars.
“Do you want to share about what you did see?” she asked.
He waited for so long she thought the answer must be no, but then his eyes grew red rimmed and his face turned a shade of pink in the moonlight. “I saw so much in such a short period of time. It sounds like others saw moments, and I saw centuries.”
Her eyes widened as she saw the weight of this truth reflected in his face. “What did you see?” she whispered.
“I saw Orra, created by the Sun.”
“What?” Aeliana couldn’t mask her disbelief, but he went on as if he hadn’t heard her.
“I saw her lead a rebellion. Not from a cruel heart or malicious intent, but out of love. She misunderstood what the Sun wanted her to do. And she led several Stars astray. I even saw the starbridges formed.” He shuddered, then rubbed his palms over his eyes as if wishing to claw out the memory. “But I saw the Sun, forgiving and correcting over and over and over. I understand now what Orra was trying to explain. None of us have had it right. The Sun is a loving creator. Not some judgmental eye in the sky waiting for us to fail. And the Stars are no different than us. They’re like the Sayhleens, only the sky is their sea. They reflect the Sun’s glory in ways we can’t. But they’re still as weak as we are. They still need the Sun’s forgiveness and guidance.”
“This doesn’t line up with anything we’ve been taught,” Aeliana said slowly. “Not what your grandparents would have taught in the Stargazer, and not what my mother would have taught in the Sungazers.”
“That’s what I’m saying.” He turned to her in earnest, placing his hands on her upper arms and gripping them tightly as if he wanted to shake the answers into her. And in some ways, he did, because her noetic skills latched on to his desire to share his memory. The vision thattransferred to her was infinitesimal and incomplete. More of a feeling and an overwhelming, blinding light. But it gave her a brief understanding that the things he told her were true. It tore apart everything he’d believed all his life, everything his family had shared with generations of Lorvandans, everything her family had probably shared with generations of Vendarans.
She sucked in a breath as he pulled away, angling his head once more toward the Stars.
“What will you do?” she asked.
“This is my calling from the Sun,” he said. “It’s my burden to share this with the world.”
“You’re one person, Cyrus. That’s too much for one person to bear.”
“Maybe.” He shrugged. “But many others will feel burdened as well. Maybe the truth will spread like fire.” The passion in his eyes was contagious.
“For your sake, I hope it does,” she said.
“For the Sun’s sake,” he corrected.
“Why do you sit out here and worship the Stars, then?”
He laughed, and she saw a brief glimpse of the carefree young man she’d met all those months ago in Gahldric Valley’s Stargazer. She missed that man, the one who filled every silence with the thoughts he couldn’t contain, the one who saw everyone as good, the one who made her feel like she had something to offer the world.
“I’ve been out here apologizing to them,” he said. “I suspect they can still hear and see me the way I’ve always imagined, and now I’m embarrassed for the ways that I worshiped them.”
“Oh, Cyrus,” she said.
“Don’t worry,” he added. “I spent all day asking the Sun for forgiveness as well.”
This time she laughed. “If the Sun is as forgiving as you say, I think once was enough.”
He smiled. “I think I have my first convert.”
