Chapter Five (Part 2)

CW: flashback to trauma/abusive relationship

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But Idris just clenched his jaw, eyes darkening further. His lip curled, an expression that I had never once seen on him before, and I froze like a scared animal, suddenly transported back to a time that I’d thought was long behind me.

Calix stood before the dining table in my palace within the venomous forest. We’d just come in from working on the garden, knees and hands coated in dirt. I passed him to head for the kitchen sink in the next room so I could wash up, but he grabbed my arm hard to stop me.

Just before this, we’d had a small dispute in the garden, something about Calix not liking how much time I spent babying the plants, so the air between us was already tense.

I jolted to a stop, stomach dropping, and looked over to see Calix’s face set into a crooked frown. His golden eyes, which usually sparkled in the light, were dull now, dark like copper.

“Where the fuck are you going?” he said sternly, and I stiffened at his raised voice, entirely too conscious of how Wisdom and Peace were playing in the other room.

“To wash my hands,” I said softly, having learned by this point that raising my voice in turn only led to worse violence.

He watched me for a moment longer in silence, grip loosening a fraction. Taking that as acceptance of my answer, I pulled away to continue to the kitchen, only the moment I pulled my arm from his grasp, something appeared to snap within him, and his lip curled seconds before he backhanded me hard, sending me flying into the table.

The table legs screeched against the wood floor with my weight, and I mentally cursed as I heard small feet running towards the noise.

No.

As quickly as I could, I set up a barrier around the dining room to keep them out and soundproof the space. I thanked every ounce of luck I had that I’d designed the dining room with doors instead of open archways. And it wasn’t a moment too soon as Calix called me a foul name and grabbed me by the hair, tearing me back.

I slipped back into the present with a full-body shudder and blinked hard to dispel the images from my head.

“You won’t regret it because you’ll be alive,” Idris spat.

Idris never spat at me. He never spoke to me disrespectfully. Not even in the worst of our arguments had his tone gotten overly nasty. He rarely even shouted at me unless I was being incredibly vexing.

I took a step back from him, mind racing, because I didn’t know what the fuck was going on. Why was he being like this? He could be an asshole at times, sure. He could be controlling too, but he’d never been like this before. He’d never done anything to restrict my autonomy so severely before.

In the pause in our argument, the windowpane rattled faintly, the universe kicking up the wind in response to our emotions, and my breath caught, because Idris ignored it entirely, glaring at me, the clear upset of our creator not shaking him in the slightest.

…Why?

I’d known this whole time that something was off about Idris, ever since our wedding night, but I hadn’t done anything about it before now, telling myself I was overthinking it.

Clearly, however, I’d been right the first time.

Idris couldn’t hear the universe anymore. Something was wrong with him.

But what? Why was he…?

A horrible realization washed over me, the sudden flashback to my time with Calix making a little too much sense. Cold trickled through my veins.

Calix had done this too. He’d started off fine, loving and respectful. And then, gradually, he’d started darkening. Making sure he knew where I was in the palace at all times, starting arguments over nothing, beating me whenever he thought I was pulling away from him. Looking at me blankly, like someone had disconnected the wires between his heart and his eyes.

Because of me. Because I knew…because I thought I was poison. My presence was destroying him.

And it was happening all over again.

But I’m not evil, I thought desperately. I’m not poison. Idris told me I’m not.

So why was he behaving exactly like Calix had?

I felt bile rise in my throat. Idris finally appeared to notice something was wrong with me and his foul expression melted, brows pursed up in worry as I suddenly bolted past him for the bathroom, just barely making it to the toilet in time to throw up.

Bewildered, Idris followed me in and held my hair back for me, running his hand over my back soothingly. The touch should have been comforting, and it was in some measure, but I only vomited harder, stomach turning itself in knots.

Considering that I hadn’t eaten in who knows how long, all that came up was water and a little blood. I was left exhausted when the nausea finally passed, and Idris had to grab me up in his arms to help me to the sink so I could brush my teeth in a daze, watching as it appeared as though a floating toothbrush was scrubbing away in the mirror, a sight that used to entertain me endlessly, but brought me no joy now.

I had asked Idris, once, why he bothered putting mirrors in his personal bathroom when he couldn’t even use them.

‘Perhaps I hope to one day see myself after all. It’s one thing to have someone paint your portrait or describe your appearance, but it doesn’t compare to being able to look yourself in the eyes and witness your own soul,’ he’d said wistfully. And I couldn’t fault him for that desire, because I had longed for such a thing myself.

But I found myself puzzling over that statement in a daze as Idris helped me redress in less sweaty clothes and then gently tucked me back into bed, murmuring that he was going to fetch me something to eat before leaving the room.

Idris told me before that the reason he and I had no reflection was because we were too powerful to have one. Our souls were too complex.

But now that I thought about it, that didn’t make much sense to me.

In the eyes of the universe, all souls were created equal. We had different levels of power, varying proclivities for darkness or light. But was there such a thing as one soul being more ‘complex’ than another?

Maybe it was the near delirium from being wounded, weak, sick, and entrapped, but a shudder went through me suddenly, a horrible thought surfacing.

Had Idris been telling me the truth? He’d told me that the universe was the one who told him about our lack of a reflection. There was no reason to lie about it.

But he’d also told me I wasn’t evil or poisonous, and there was clear evidence to the contrary.

All my life, Idris had been an uncorruptible figure to me. He was literally the god of light. Pure and good. I had thought that of anyone, he would be the least likely to be affected by the darkness that had consumed Calix.

But here he was. Locking me in his bedroom. Telling me I couldn’t care for myself.

…How long before he started hitting me? Insulting me when I disagreed with him?

How long before he…

No, I stopped myself. Jumping to conclusions before I was even certain about the cause for Idris’s behavior wouldn’t help me any. I needed to observe a little longer.

I needed to talk to Wisdom. Regardless of how mad at me she might be, she would put it aside for this. And though Idris had locked me in here, he’d never said anything about not letting me have visitors, so when Idris returned with a tray loaded with a steamy bowl of soup, some juice, and another glass of water, I took a few bites before broaching the subject.

“I want to see Peace and Wisdom,” I said casually. “They must be worried sick about me.”

I kept my gaze focused on the soup as Idris remained unnervingly silent for a little too long.

“I’ve told them how you’re doing,” he said finally, tone even. And my stomach dropped once again, because Idris knew how important my kids were to me. He would never keep them from me. Gods, I’d had like three separate mental breakdowns after Calix took them from me, and he’d been there for all of them.

A strange excuse occurred to me then. …What if this wasn’t Idris?

I didn’t know of any creature that could mimic a god so well. There were a few beings in the venomous forest with the ability to shapeshift, to take on the appearance of loved ones in order to lure you to them, but they could only say things they’d heard the one they were mimicking say before. And besides, I knew all those creatures’ tells. Some of them had a distinct odor, others were unable to fully replicate an appearance, only able to look about ninety percent similar.

Frowning, I turned to Idris, who was sitting beside me on the bed to help stabilize the tray over my lap, and leaned into him. He blinked at me curiously as I took a long sniff from his armpit to his neck.

Rosemary and cedarwood. Just like usual. I reared back to scrutinize his appearance, ignoring his confused smile, but I could find no flaws. I poked his cheek just to be sure he wasn’t a creature wearing his skin, but it was warm and supple, like always.

He was Idris. One hundred percent, without a doubt. My heart twisted uncomfortably in my chest, and I went back to eating despondently.

Idris opened his mouth as if to ask me what that was all about, then appeared to decide against it. He stroked the tangled hair falling down my back, and once I was almost done with my meal, he spoke again.

“I need to leave soon, to investigate the creature. You won’t be in here for long, Rook. I promise.”

As if that was supposed to comfort me. The fact that he’d trapped me in the first place was already devastating to my mental and emotional health, so pretty promises didn’t mean much.

But I could tell that arguing wasn’t going to help me any. So I nodded and avoided looking at him, making him think I’d accepted my fate, at least for now.

Because I knew in my heart what I had to do.

If what I suspected was wrong with Idris was actually true, there was really only one solution, a solution I hadn’t been able to carry out with Calix.

But Idris was too important to me. I loved him too much to let him fall into madness because of me.

There was only one thing to do.

I had to let Idris go.