Page 172 of The Ascended
He considered for a moment. "I was seven. There was a library section I wasn't permitted to enter until I was older."
"Let me guess," I said. "You found a way in."
"Of course. I spent months observing the patterns of the guards, learning which books the scholars requested, mapping the layout from glimpses through the door."
"All that just to read some books?"
"Forbidden knowledge is always the most tempting," he said. "Eventually I discovered a hidden passage—a maintenance tunnel."
"What did you find?"
"Disappointment, mostly," he admitted. "Most of the 'forbidden' texts were just tedious political histories and diplomatic records. Though there was one shelf of love poetry that proved educational in other ways."
I couldn't help but laugh at the image of a serious child-Xül sneaking around to read poetry. "Did you get caught?"
"Eventually," he said. "Though not before I'd memorized several of the more explicit verses. My tutor was rather scandalized when I recited them during a lesson."
"I bet," I said, finding it easier now to follow his steps. "Did you get punished?"
"Three days in isolation," he said matter-of-factly. "Though I considered it worth the price."
As we continued to dance, Xül adjusted his hold slightly, drawing me into a closer position.
"This section requires more precision," he explained. "And trust."
"Trust is in short supply these days," I remarked.
"Indeed," he agreed. "Tell me something you've never told anyone else."
I eyed him curiously. "Why?"
"Because it's easier to tell secrets to someone you're not looking at." He spun me so my back pressed against his chest, one arm wrapped around my waist. His lips nearly touched my ear as he spoke. "And because I want to know."
"I almost ran away once," I admitted quietly. "When I was sixteen."
His steps never faltered, but I felt a subtle shift in his attention, a new focus. "From Saltcrest?"
"Yes. I had everything planned. I'd saved money from odd jobs around the village, packed a bag with essentials, mapped out a route inland." The memory was sharp, sudden—the desperate need to escape after my powers manifested. "I was going to leave the night of the autumn harvest."
"What stopped you?"
I swallowed, remembering the night clearly. "Thatcher got sick.Really sick. Some kind of fever that the village healer couldn't break. I couldn't leave him, not when he might..." I trailed off. "He recovered, eventually. But by then, something had changed. I realized I couldn't just abandon the people I loved."
"You stayed out of duty," Xül observed. "Even then."
"Love," I corrected. "I stayed out of love. There's a difference."
"Is there?" His voice was contemplative. "They often feel the same."
"Your turn," I said. "Tell me something you've never told anyone."
He didn't answer immediately, leading me through several more steps before speaking. "I once saved a mortal child's life."
There it was again—that glimpse of a softness beneath the hardened exterior. Every revelation made him more real to me, less the untouchable deity and more a being capable of compassion. And that made him more dangerous.
Of all the possible confessions, this wasn't what I'd expected. "And that's a secret because...?"
"Because I wasn't supposed to interfere," he explained. "My mother used to take me to the village in which she grew up, where her distant family still remains. I saw a girl fall into a canal. The current was too strong, carrying her toward a waterfall."
