Page 87 of Ruby & Onyx

I may be a fool for hoping, but I yell to her, “Guylita?” The name tears me in two, either side filled with hope or despair. If that is her, then I’ll never be able to face her, knowing that I’m the reason that she ended up in this dreary pit. But if she can help me understand the truth…

“Who’s asking?” Her voice is tattered and fraught.

“Radya, I’m… Radya.”

A heavy silence engulfs us like they’re both holding their breath.

“I met you once… in Carcera,” the man finally says. “You’re the reason I’m here.”

How could we have met in Carcera? Is he from the village? He must be, unless…

Could he be one of the prowlers?

“You’re the reason that I’m here as well,” Guylita says.

My knees buckle under the weight of responsibility, and I fall to the floor, dropping my head into my hands. “I’m so sorry Guylita! And I’m sorry to you, too.” I add to acknowledge the man whose name I don’t yet know. Another casualty of my existence. “I never meant to hurt anyone!”

The tears fall freely without any sign of slowing.

“There’s no need for tears, friend. It was destined to be this way,” she says calmly. “How about we have our conversation now?”

Chapter 38

“Are you done crying yet?” The man snaps impatiently.

I wipe the evidence of my despair from my face using the sleeve of my tunic, which still carries the tangy scent of blood.

“We have all of the time in the world.” Guylita’s voice is delicate and soft, coarsened by age. “Let me know when you’re ready.”

“I’m ready,” I say as I wipe another tear from my cheek.

“My name is Guy –”

Another sob explodes out of me before she can finish saying her name. The emotion of being down here, of being responsible for her imprisonment, of learning that I’m worth nothing if I’m not a pawn willing to be used and played at the king’s discretion, all seems so unbearable that I can’t steady my thoughts long enough calm down.

They sit in silence, allowing me to process all of these emotions without offering a lie to tell me that things will be okay. Because down here, in this dark and desolate cell, there’s very little joy to go around. The darkness is a thief poised and ready to clobber us.

After a while, once the emotions turn into more of a dull ache than a stabbing pain, I say, “Go on.”

“My name is Guylita.” There’s not a hint of impatience in her voice. If I had to bet, I would guess that she also faced the same despair that I feel now upon arrival. Who knows what personal demons she had to face in the dark? “Your friend was wise to seek me out. I’ve spent my life studying the gods and their interactions with humanity. One of the most miraculous gifts of all time lies embedded within your soul. You’re special. Both prophets and skeptics alike speak of you with awe.”

“Get to the point,” the man prods.

“Years before your true birth, the prophets spoke of a pair bonded in Onyx.” A memory flickers in my mind at her words. Neither death nor life can disrupt the pair bonded in onyx, the prophecy said. “You are one half of that pair.”

“What does that mean?” I find myself frustrated by my lack of understanding. But how could I understand any of this? Every aspect of this secret has been carefully guarded, starting with the village that acted as a cage to the outside world and extending to my time here. “Please, just explain it to me.”

“You really don’t know?” The man pipes up again.

“No! That’s what I’ve been saying! Come on, now. Please, just explain everything from the beginning. Don’t leave out a single detail,” I beg, but my voice teeters on breaking.

Guylita takes a deep breath before speaking. “Manka, the god of life and death, chose to grant immortality to a human once, many centuries ago. But he only gifted it to one single person, Raylor. For the first hundred or so years, Raylor lived happily and enjoyed all of the riches of life. Men and women alike threw themselves at his feet, desperate to get a taste of the legend himself. People started to treat him like a god, offering their money and gifts to him in sacrifice. He accumulated great wealth this way as he traveled from village to village, demonstrating the impossibility of his death. He accepted their tithes, drank in their praises, and lavished in the spectacle he’d become. The world was his playground as he gallivanted around, unafraid of death. Until he met Lucia. And then his world stopped.

“Raylor and Lucia fell madly in love. He gave her everything. But while she grew older and grayer, he remained as young as the day they met. It wasn’t long before she grew ill, and Raylor faced the consequence of his immortality. The gift that he cherished became a curse that he could not bear. He would have to watch her die a slow, agonizing death and live the remainder of his eternal life haunted by her loss.

“He begged and begged for Manka to grant immortality to Lucia, but Manka wouldn’t budge. Only one can experience an endless life, just like you wanted, he said. Raylor traveled to the ends of the earth and back searching for a cure, some elixir to grant him and Lucia a lifetime together. But nothing worked. And while he was away searching for a remedy, she passed on to her next life. When Raylor returned to her bedside only to find that she was no longer a part of this living realm, he shattered. For nearly two centuries, he holed himself up in their cottage, refusing to eat or drink, but death never came for him. Finally, he had enough. He went to the god of life and death and begged him to take back his gift, for it was of no use to him without the love of his life. This time, Manka accepted his pleas and reunited Raylor and Lucia in death.”

“Where do I come in?” I ask.

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