“Naperna. So, you are a father,” I said. I watched Steele mouth the word several times before speaking.

“Fa ther?” asked Steele.

“Father. Yes,” I replied. “So, you are a father?”

The joy I saw in Steele’s face at my unfortunate word confusion subtly shifted. There was a fondness in his eyes, but something else too. For what felt like a few minutes, Steele didn’t respond as he seemed to reminisce on something that I couldn’t see. Finally, I said his name again to get his attention.

“Steele?” I called. Steele inhaled deeply and snapped from his daze and looked back to me. “Do you… have a daughter? A son?”

Something had shifted in my Orion friend. There was a silence I hadn’t received from him before. There was a specific silence when he was trying to find the right words to say. There was a silence when he didn’t understand. This was neither. It reminded me of Caster. It reminded me of a handful of times when I confronted my daughter. He was avoiding the question.

“I… I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to…”

“No…” interrupted Steele. A pit formed in my gut. Did something happen? “And yes…”

What? I didn’t understand. What was he talking about? Yes and no?

“I don’t understand,” I said aloud inn my own confusion. Steele, eyes still averted and looking worn and tired now, blinked a few times as he looked into the darkness in the chamber.

“Terrilyn is a daw ter?” he asked, to which I nodded. “I have… a son. Mithos. He… Koonyardo vi… no… I… bad. Ooon bravista. Koomarno kavishki, ooon sesil strumnakoth Ombre…”

Steele continued in his language, rambling on and on seemingly scrambling for the words to say while looking frustrated with himself. He looked torn. He looked disappointed.

Still…

Of all the things he said… one word truly stuck out in my mind.

Ombre.

The name of the western town that was destroyed – supposedly by Steele himself. I recalled Caster’s conversation with me.

{“Caster? What aren’t you telling me about Steele?”

“Well,” said the elderly apothecary, slowing to a stop. “I have nothing to confirm it, but I’ve had my suspicions for some time now. Other Factotum, before they left their post, expressed Steele’s relative… neutrality toward them and how he would watch them. All left because other positions opened, not because Steele ever made a violent gesture toward them despite popular belief.”

“What are you saying?”

“As I said, I do not have anything to confirm it, but I understand that people tend to adhere to patterns regardless of where they’re from. With that said, I am not entirely certain of Steele’s guilt,” stated Caster.

“You… don’t think… he did it?”

“I do not know my dear, and you would be good to keep these things in confidence with yourself. I, personally, find it odd that such a large entity who could easily pull those chains loose from the wall, crush us effortlessly without remorse, and who could undoubtedly escape chooses to do none of those things and, instead, saves a life of his captors and elects to stay. There may be more to our Orion than meets the eye.”}

Steele was talking about Ombre – and, moments before, his son.

The look in Steele’s eyes – the disappointment and torn look in his eyes.

I felt my jaw slacken as my ears started ringing. I staggered a few steps to the side. The light that once illuminated my eyes seemed to form into pinpoints.

“Raina?” I heard my name somewhere. It was so far away. It was bringing me back from my racing mind. “Viyoo-en rhonor? Raina? You… hear me?” I felt something brush my shoulder and, in an instant, I recognized Steele’s finger brushing against me. I looked to either side of me and suddenly realized the surface I was sitting on was Steele’s hand. He had stopped talking and had lifted me slightly off of the ground toward him, now holding the most concerned look in his eyes for me.

“I… yes. Viyoo-en rhonor. I’m alright. I can hear you,” I reassured him. Relief spread across his face as he smiled, his finger delicately coming to my side and brushing against it. I leaned into the touch.

Then I looked up his arm and back into his face.

It was almost with reluctance, but I had to know.

“Steele?” I began. Did I want to do this? Did I really want to do this?

“Yes?” he replied.

“Why are you here?” I couldn’t think of another way to begin. I didn’t think any harm would come to me, but that horrible curiosity I saw so often in my daughter didn’t come completely from her father.

I looked at Steele and continued as I saw a look of confusion cross his features.

“Ombre. I heard you say the name. That’s one of our towns to the west. Ombre. It was attacked – they say it was attacked by you. They say you hurt people. You did not attack, did you?” I asked, my voice naturally adopting a tone that indicated I knew what the answer would be. I watched Steele’s features shift from translating what I said to what he knew to defensive, to reserved.

“Steele? You didn’t attack our town, but someone did. Was… it your son? Did Mithos attack Ombre?” I held my breath, keenly aware of my pulse in my ears and fingertips as well as the rapid pulse I could feel from Steele’s hand just beneath me. “I… I’m not upset. I’m not mad. Steele, please, just tell me. Please… tell me my friend. Vandri… benyahoon ne amatchi.”

As I invoked Steele’s language, I watched the tips of his fingers twitch as he looked away. The same disguising behavior I had seen in Caster and those few times in my own daughter were now in Steele. One look and I knew.

I was right.

“Ptiedier… Ptiedier… I… Ooon bravista… I am… bad… bad father, bad son… my fault.” Steele, wordlessly, lowered me back to the ledge and began to tilt his hand.

No.

It was impulsive.

I still, to this day, do not know what possessed me to do it, but I still did it.

I threw myself further onto his palm, turned, and wrapped my arms around his middle finger. I felt the shiver go through his body just as I felt it go through mine. He dared not move, and I knew it. I always knew it about him. He was too kind – too gentle – to be guilty. He had to know that. I had to tell him that.

“Steele, you are not bad. Do you hear me? Not bravista! Not a bad naperna. He is not you, Steele. He is not you. It is not your fault. Vandri!” The broken words felt like they were breaking me. My heart ached in a way I didn’t think it could again. Everything began to set in.

Was that why he was here? Was he in here because of his son? Is that why he wasn’t leaving? There were so many questions that were hammering against my head. I was overwhelmed to the point where I felt my face becoming warm and wet.

“Raina…” Steele’s voice tight, constricted. I felt the tips of his fingers brush against my back and begin rubbing, as if to soothe me. I barely registered the chains clanking as Steele readjusted. I could partially see the ledge vanish as Steele brought his hands closer to his chest.

“Raina, vandri, doshti whyr,” he said over and over; a phrase I knew meant, “please, do not cry.” I managed to get a hold of myself after several minutes of my Orion reassuring me over and over.

No.

I couldn’t leave things like this.

Nothing was resolved. I relinquished my grip around his finger and turned to face him. His violet eyes connected instantly with mine.

“Steele,” I said firmly. “You listen to me and you listen well.” I could hear the maternal authority latching onto each word. Even Steele looked impressed, eyebrows furrowing and then raising as my voice rang out against the cavern walls.

“You are good. If you were bad, you would not have saved me. When I fell from the ledge, you saved me. If I fell now, you would catch me. A bad person would not save another,” I argued. “I would not be here if I didn’t believe you were good. Trust me. Trust me, Steele.”

~~~~~^*^*^*^~~~~~

I understood many of her words and didn’t understand others.

Trust me.

There were those words again.

How?

How could she trust me?

I told her I was a horrible father; that I failed my son and wasn’t able to stop him from hurting her people. I told her this is why I was here – atoning for my failures.

Still…

This woman…

She said I was good – that she saw good in me.

Trust me…

Truly… she was an amazing person.

I repeated the phrase, feeling ready to leave this horrid topic behind us; but, at the same time, wanting to invest in everything she said.  

Was she right? I wasn’t even sure. What I did know was that she hadn’t led me down the wrong path since we met. Did she see something I couldn’t see? Or was she seeing past my failures? I feared, deep in my heart, that she was seeing something that wasn’t there. The other part of me hoped she had enough strength to believe the same about herself. I could see in her eyes that she too harbored something deep in her heart as I did; but what was it?