My back is painfully straight and tense. “I’m a vessel.”
“You are empty. You may be filled with an essence, but that does not change that you are at your core nothing but a shell. It is, I do not doubt, painful to live that way. But that does not change what you are.” She leans against the back of her seat. When she stretches her arms, I notice them. She is all soft curves and colors. She is all truths I do not want to see. “You can be filled with anything.”
“So you chose me because I am a shell?”
She purses her lips. “I chose you because you glowed. You were full of the light of Him, and how could I resist that? You were full of Him, the light and passion and glow, and you were so forgetful of everything. Even now, we give you one memory only for another to fall away.” She hums. “I suppose that is the problem with vessels. They cannot contain everything at once.”
I’m shaking. My hands are tight around my knees.
Whoa sudden revelation about the Westernlands.
This is a private one though.
But holy shit.