“I want you to know the question to the answer.”
“Well, what's the answer, then?”
“You!”
Me? Me? Why would I be the answer? And what is the question?
Me?
I looked around at the tops of the trees.
I'm the answer—to what? To the Lilithian’s future? Maybe. But what does that have to do with finding hope on this Walk of Faith?
Ask not what I need to do, but what I need to…learn?
I looked up at the black, scaly creature. “What is hope?” I asked.
It seemed to smile but didn't answer.
What is hope? Is that what I need to learn? I squinted, thinking hard. I know it’s in me, but what is it?
“Close,” the snake whispered.
“Hope is a part of faith,” I started, going over the words in my head. “I came out here to find hope and bring it home to them. I came here to find…” I looked up, realisation flooding me like a wash of cold water. “Myself?”
“Yes. You!”
“Well, I found her—she was making the oath.” I shook my head. “What now?”
“She is not you. She is a repeat manifestation of the lies that make you whole.”
“What?”
“Truth. Truth must be uncovered before you can find what you are looking for—before you can find yourself.”
“What is the truth?”
“That,” she hissed, “is exactly the right question.”
“Er!” I screeched and backed away as the snake launched forward. “Get away from me.”
“Tell me!” It slithered toward my foot, shifting in weaving patterns across the dirt. “Tell me the truth.”
“I don't know any truth.”
“Yessss, you doo.” It lifted its head off the ground and rocked from side to side, as if it had shoulders to sway from.
“I don't know what the lie is…so I can't tell you the truth.”
“Then you are lying to yourself.”
“No. I know myself. I know my inner truths. I always follow my…” I paused. My heart. “My heart is the lie?”
“Or perhaps what’s in your heart.”
I looked at the snake and felt the tight pull of my brow at the centre. “I already told you; David's in my heart.”
“Is he?”
I nodded.
“Is he there alone?”
“Of course he is.”
“Answer me truthfully, girl. Is. He. There. Alone?”
“I…” I looked down at my dirt-covered legs. “I don't know.”
“Yes, you do. Ask your heart, and do not deny the first answer it gives you.”
I touched a hand to my chest and searched deeper inside myself, already knowing the true answer. “I'm not capable of loving just one…am I?” I looked back at the snake.
“Aren’t you?”
“I am.” I nodded. “I know I am.”
“Don't lie to yourself, Amara. You cannot find hope if you cannot see the truth.”
“No. That is the truth!” I shuffled away from the snake. “I love David. Do you hear? Never anyone else. I get confused. But I love him! Only him!”
“Lies. Black heart—black as the night. You, demon child—” It slithered, slowly edging closer, “—You are nothing more than what I am; a sinister nonentity, a parasitical fiend, and you will perish in this Hell.”
“No!” I pointed to the snake. “You’re trying to trick me into admitting I'm something I'm not.”
“Trickster. Faker. Liar. Me? No.” It shook its head. “You are the worst kind of fraud, little girl, because you lie to yourself.” It glided toward me again. “You don't have to like the truth, but in order to be free, you must admit it.”
“No.” I covered my ears, scuffling away. “You can’t tell me what’s in my heart.”
“I don't need to, child. You admitted this already. Admit it now. Admit it once and for all, and you will be free!”
“No!”
“Stubborn girl,” It said, forcing me to shift farther away with each inch it came closer. “It was all you had to do.”
My hand slipped on a sharp, rocky overhang, and the flaking sound of raining dirt and stones echoed off the gluttonous canyon behind me, narrowing my options; it was either into the path of the snake, or a fall, possibly to my death.
“What are you doing?” my voice quivered as the snake advanced, slinking toward my right foot.
“Taking you back to Hell.”
“Get off me!” I smashed my foot into its tail, but the grappling, tubular body wriggled up my leg, and my scream trailed off as my hands met the absence of the rocky edge, reaching up, grabbing the cold neck of the snake as I went over, free-falling toward nothing.
And it was too late to say it—too late to admit what I truly felt in my heart. But I saw him as I looked out over the endless valley—saw Jason, saw his smile, felt my heart fill with blood for the longing to be beside him.
And that was the truth. I loved him, but I also loved David.
The quiet emptiness of falling into nothing stole a scream from my lips, but returned it as a silent breath, and my fingers unfolded, releasing the snake into freedom as the ground rushed up faster than I could control.
* * *
Hope, by definition, means, wish, desire—a chance of success. Nowhere does it say faith.
They had hope, but they never believed in me—never had faith. They wanted someone to walk them from the darkest nights of their everlasting pain and bring them to the dawn, but they needed a warrior, not a little girl who was so broken from the past she couldn't even love just one man.
The dawn came and went many times while I stumbled through this treacherous forest, and as I opened my tired eyes, my entire body burning and aching, I met the dawn again.
The last dregs of hope faded.
I had believed in myself; I had believed I’d make it out—that I’d be the queen they needed. But they just couldn’t see that. No one ever had any faith in me, and this was my only chance to prove I was strong—to prove I could do anything I wanted to—if I wanted to do it. And I did want to. I never wanted to be queen before, but I cared about those people—all of them, and I wanted them to be free, to live in peace. If I was the only one that could make it happen, then I would have done my best.
But the belief I had in myself was merely the naïve ideals of a child who read too many fairy-tales when she was young. I couldn’t do it. I didn't make it. And they knew I wouldn't.