It's a Seeker's Game

Mariah sensed the shift in Caedes' mood, the lines of his face hardening as conflict played out across his features. She could feel a tension coiling between them, a silent storm brewing in the air that threatened to shatter the quiet serenity of their moment. Her chest tightened at the sight. It was not her intention to force him into a corner, to make him choose between loyalty to his kin and what could be blossoming between them.  She watched as the struggle played out on Caedes' face, a raw honesty that nearly broke her heart. His turmoil reflected her own - the decision was not easy, filled with stakes and consequences that could alter their lives irreversibly. “I understand that, Caedes …” She began, staring into the depths of his emerald gaze. If she could give him reassurance with a look alone, she hoped that she had. Resisting the urge to touch him again was difficult in itself. “But there is no in-between. To my family you either are an ancestral Mendacium- or you aren’t.”  Mariah explained, her tone heavy with the burdensome truth. “But I won’t ask you to choose. How could I possibly?” Her voice transitioned into something gentle yet laden with urgency. She needed him to understand that no matter the path he chose, she would not be disappointed. Nobody could be expected to change the course of their life in the span of a single conversation. “Like I said ... we can get on for a long time without choosing ...” And while her family might disagree with that sentiment- the family she was loyal to first and foremost, she also wasn’t a mere cog in a machine. Her personal relationship with the ancients would be kept private. That’s all anyone needed to know for now.

She drew in a deep breath, absorbing his confession. Her mind reeled with revelation, each word tumbling over the last like waves against a rocky shore. Conquerors, heathens, godless - these were not the traits of Caedes she had come to know. Yet the man standing before her was not denying them, he was revealing them, his voice absent of any remorse or shame. For a moment, she was silent, her eyes never leaving his. Then, with a gentle sigh, she spoke. “I don’t know the heathen you speak of, Caedes Messorem Saxe. I don’t know the conqueror, the plague, the godless soul. I know only what you’ve shown me of the man who stands before me now.” Her words were soft, yet carried an undeniable weight. “One day you’ll have to tell me about your family. But it doesn’t matter to me who you are … you’ve sworn me your honesty .... For today, that’s all I need.” She finished while looking him over, hoping to have reached an understanding, as fragile as it might possibly be.

"Mariah Mendacium"