4: Trust

Of all the things the Fulxithii said, the idea that she wanted to be trusted was the strangest. Alexandrie truly wasn’t sure what it would take for her to trust someone, but getting into danger couldn’t possibly be it, or she would trust Spider and Mysel. And yet it kept coming up, the idea that trust was required for any number of things to get done, or to be accomplished to a standard people seemed to want to reach. Alexa didn’t even trust herself, how could she trust someone she’d just met?

And what was trust, anyway? She trusted that Heofonræsele wouldn’t eat her, but that was because La Chanson had sent he and Mysel. She trusted that La Chanson wanted to keep her safe, but that was because (to her mind) it needed to get something done that it couldn’t do without her help, or it would have. She trusted Spider to return from whatever tasks he decided to undertake. But that, she believed sometimes, was because Spider needed her help to get Lucas back, and that she would (if it all went very poorly) at the very least be a good hostage. So why should she trust Kazsra? Kazsra didn’t even seem to know why she was trying to keep them safe…nor did she (or Alexa) know why the Dash’em’ali wanted to keep them alive. There was only so far fondness could go, and Alexandrie was wary of anyone who…well, she was wary of everyone. Her own grandmother had hidden things from her, and she didn’t know why.

Or perhaps she hadn’t hidden things from Alexandrie, but she hadn’t told her the whole truth.

Alexa had decided, earlier, that she would not go further without knowing more, but Kazsra put her finger on the exact problem: she didn’t know where to go or who to talk to about La Chanson. She had hoped it would be more forthcoming about it’s needs when she got closer but it seemed no more inclined to say anything than it had in Glitter Delta Cove, and what was more, there was another sound now - something else hunting her. What she didn’t want - at all - was to be found by that sound. She was afraid of silence, but that sound was…it was horrible. More frightening than silence because she’d never experienced it and didn’t know why it started now.

Did La Chanson require her to trust it? Trust it to do what? It had not protected Chevalier - its own creation, it had said it would not look after Re’ne’mala and Re’ne’shi…her family home had been broken into…what, exactly, gave her any indication that it was trustworthy? The incomplete stories Grandmère had told her? The wisdoms passed to her by Chevalier? The melting walls and visions of war?

None of those things made her feel trusting, especially since the story it had to tell, the story it wanted told had almost started a riot.

Kazsra was surprised that she was Sinrou. Why? Why was this so unexpected? Had she changed so much that it wasn’t possible to be Sinrou anymore? Because that was how she felt sometimes. Everything she was doing now was based on Grandmère’s stories, on Grandmère’s words and hopes and dreams and…

…and to get away from being Sinrou. If she were not Sinrou, if she were not the one La Chanson decided to call toward it…what was she? Just a half-elf.

A half elf with two magical birds who snuggled in and would maybe care if she weren’t there, but just a half-elf. What about that was trustworthy? She tried to tell the truth.
But why?

Because of a strong sense of morality?
Because she couldn’t keep up with the lies?
or because if she was going to be hurt she’d rather be hurt immediately?
If nothing else, the Fulxithii had lied to them already - it was just about the size and the meaning.
And the hurt.

She missed when everything was simpler - when she didn’t need to worry about who might be lying because if not friends, she had her family - her family loved her and she could trust in that.

Mysel appearing in the room next to Kazsra reminded her of what he’d shown her and she winced, knowing that family shouldn’t be trusted either.

Everything was a meat trap, and she didn’t know what to think anymore.
Trust?
That would come when she could see everything clearly.
Until then, trust was a meat trap.