Ren - Doubt

"There is nothing more dreadful than the habit of doubt. Doubt separates people. It is a poison that disintegrates friendships and breaks up pleasant relations. It is a thorn that irritates and hurts; it is a sword that kills."

Ren leaned back against the cool stone wall of the meeting house. Tipping her head back, she closed her eyes and let the Elders' chatter wash over her like pebbles trickling down a streambed. Breathe, she thought to herself, focusing on the in, the out. Breathe. She took stock of her body. Feet aching, tension in her lower back, knot in her shoulder, bug bites itching maddeningly, general exhaustion, but nothing she wasn't accustomed to. Breathe, let it go. She closed her eyes and forced herself to relax, let the tension drain away.

A clap on her shoulder knocked her head roughly into the rough stone wall. Ren grunted in surprise, eyes flying open and narrowing instantly at her would-be attacker. "Good report, Ren," Elder Sot Rah said, winking conspiratorially at her as he passed by. Elder Hannah nodded on her way out, as did Elders Zigera and Kiel. Elder Alexie paused on her way through the door. "Sharen," she said.

Ren looked up at the use of her full name. "Yes, Elder?" she asked respectfully, resisting the urge to rub at the bump Sot Rah had just inadvertently given her.

Alexie did not touch her, though she moved to stand closer. Her dark eyes, surrounded by the wrinkles of a long life, focused in on Ren's face and would not look away. "You did well this year."

Ren looked away, but Alexie wouldn't leave. The older woman rapped her walking stick imperiously on the stone floor, though when Ren at last turned back to face her, her expression was kind. 'Kinder than I deserve,' thought Ren as the guilt pooled deep in her belly and clenched at her heart.

"Sharen, you are young and responsible, and this leads you to feel the need to blame yourself for things beyond your control. Oh, all right, not just you. All caravanners do so, don't look so rebellious."

Ren hurriedly schooled her apparently rebellious face to a blank expression, then opened her mouth. "With all due respect, Elder Alexie, you've now heard my report. By tomorrow you'll have read the chronicle. If Hao hadn't given me her thunder badge, none of this would have happened."

One of Alexie's small, dark hands slowly rose and set itself on Ren's shoulder. For all that her black skin felt like soft, crinkled parchment, her grip was still strong. "I heard your report, yes. And I read Raithen's, and Sherrill's, three months ago. Child, it is very clear to me whose fault this is, and it is not yours."

Ren had often prided herself on her calmness, her stillness, her ability to remain quiet. Now her hands seemed to move of their own accord, and her mouth opened unbidden and said, "How can it not be mine? If she'd had the badge, the thunder spell would have just washed over her! And then she wouldn't have been paralyzed, and she could've run, or dodged, or something!"

Alexie's grip tightened even further, and the Elder brought her face close to Ren's, standing on tiptoe to meet the girl face to face. "Hmm, yes, so you say. And Raithen says that if only he had been a little faster, he could have cast a Cure spell to counteract the thunder's damage. And Sherrill, why, Sherrill went on and on about how if only she'd ran a little faster, she could have blocked that last blow with her shield. Aaron, being the owner of an such an incredibly strategic mind, went through about a dozen possible ways her death could have been avoided, and managed to blame himself for each and every failure!" Alexie shook her head slowly. "Oh, child, it is no one's fault but that damned monster's and Hao Ri's, hard as it is to blame a lost friend."

Closing her eyes, Ren did her best to swallow her grief, but once again the lump was just too big. "May I be excused, ?" she choked out, focusing hard on the opposite rough grey stone wall.

Alexie released her, and Ren did not move, though everything in her wanted to bolt for the door. Anything to get away, to be alone, to hide her weakness. Tapping her cane, the elder made her way to the meeting house entrance.

"You're a damn fine caravanner, girl," Alexie said, her own voice rough, though her face was as impassive as ever. "And an asset to the village. Don't ever doubt that."

She left, and the sound of her cane and shuffling footsteps receded. Ren bit her cheek hard, then wiped her eyes. Her hand came away wet. "Damn," she muttered. Then again, a little louder. "Damn."

"How can I not doubt myself?" she demanded of the now empty room, but the silence offered no solace.