Chapter 57
Aevoy
"Silvery roads lead to the golden steeps."
Proverbs, III
Pyrt stood above the silent, canopy bed, staring at the paling figure lying still on the bed. There was a hanging expression of dread in his eyes, his lips dry, eyes watery. Six hours had passed since she was last conscious, and her breathing was growing shallower and shallower. The dagger still remained sticking out of her eye, with the Physician only cleaning and dressing up the outside.
He’d already sent dozens of guards, servants, maids, and even his own children to ransack the Fort in search of an Internalizer and offer them anything they’d want in return for rescuing the Lady’s life. In his mind, he doubted it was the right decision for the House, but his heart would never allow him to choose otherwise.
“… you should catch some sleep, Pyrt,” a relatively young man jostled from the other side of the bed, holding one of Sylene’s hands tenderly. “You’d do no one any good tired and sleepy.”
“… I am fine, my Lord.” Pyrt replied respectfully.
“You are almost eighty is what you are, Pyrt,” the man said, sighing with a faint smile on his face. “Mother will be safe here. Get some rest.”
“… I failed to protect the Lady, my Lord,” Pyrt said, bowing toward the man. "Light forbid, should the worst-case scenario transpire, I only hope you spare my children."
“… I respect you more than you can imagine Pyrt," the man said after a short silence between the two. "But to be honest with you for once, nobody expected that from you. I can't say for the expectations you have for yourself, but no matter how strong you are, you have been pushing it for the last twenty years. I was there, as well. And not only did I not protect the Mother, but I was also staring at the assailant when he vanished, Pyrt. I was looking into those eyes one moment and the next… he was gone. What does that tell you?"
“…”
“To me, it says that we faced perhaps one of the best Subverts on the peninsula. Someone who can vanish in front of my sight to the point he leaves behind no trace is not someone either you or I can face. We are blessed, if anything; had he wanted us dead, he would have returned by now. In his conversation with Mother, I quickly realized he did not kill Sunnder or kidnap Claire, as must have you.”
“… that’s enough, my Lord. Please.” Pyrt said slowly, his tone one of pleading.
“No; we’ve washed the shame down long enough, Pyrt. At least, among ourselves, we ought to be honest. I’ve turned a blind eye to Sunnder’s antics because of my personal greed for the House’s Seat. Mother turned it because of her disappointment in Claire. And others turned it because they didn’t want to anger Sunnder. In this story, we all failed, collectively, because we thought it was enough. Now, my Mother’s life hangs in the balance, my older brother is dead, and my sister is missing. My Father is still sleeping like a baby, entirely unaware of what had transpired. At some point, we have to recognize our own shortcomings in all of this, instead of deflecting it.”
“… I’ll go and check whether there’s any news.”
“… this is why you always fell short of becoming the Lightbearer, Pyrt,” Ymmir spoke toward the old man’s back as the latter turned toward the exit. “Wasting all your talent on the heartless silence.”
“… your tongue is far too sharp, young Lord,” Pyrt said from the doors, one step outside. “You might want to tame it, now that you are set to become the Head.”
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“… the Kingdom’s in this hell is because we tame our tongues, generation in and out…” Ymmir muttered into his jaw, to himself, sighing. He glanced at his Mother, sighing once again; there was little he could do for her but sit here and wait. Yet, a part of him wished… this was it. He knew what his Mother would do were she to wake, and he knew he’d had to support her in every way possible… something he didn’t want to do.
"… the Kingdom's in this hell because those in charge of it are evil nepotists incapable of admitting their wrongs," a mellow and calming voice startled him as he jumped to his feet, reaching toward the blade's handle in his scabbard, quickly locating a figure sitting on the other side of the bed, stroking gently the side of his Mother's face. When?!! Ymmir felt his heart turn into a beating lump, the unknown man’s eyes glancing at his.
They were beautiful – beautiful beyond description. Golden, shining like the sun, like two halos glimmering in the dark. A handsome face framed them, further encapsulated by long, tail-tied hair of silver. Internalizer!! Ymmir realized, not solely due to the appearance, but also the extremely unique form of Light that was circling the man. The like was like a swarm of tiny butterflies and fireflies mingling, dancing, and singing.
“Wouldn’t you agree, young Lord?” the man smiled for a moment, causing Ymmir’s cheeks to flush. He was far more striking than any woman Ymmir had interacted with before, even his own wife. He quickly looked away, fearful of falling under the spell countless other men have fallen when faced with Internalizers.
“…I—I don’t know…” Ymmir stuttered out, stealing glances at the man.
“Unfortunately, I can’t help your Mother.” The man added with a sigh, caressing the old woman’s cheeks gently.
“W-why?! If—if it’s the riches, we’ll give you anything—”
“There’s a serious case of misinformation floating around about us,” the man interrupted him, looking into his eyes, spearheading through Ymmir’s heart. “We don’t cure for wealth and glory, young Lord. We cure those we deem worthy.”
“… a-are you… saying… my Mother’s not worthy?” Ymmir asked, gnashing his teeth.
“… is that surprising to hear?” the man smiled. “I know she was kind to you, young Lord, but she was a vile, arrogant, and bloodthirsty woman, be it in her youth or olden days. The reason she is lying in bed is due to that arrogance, not because somebody wanted her to die with a dagger sticking out of her eye.”
“You know who he is?!” Ymmir asked, the look in his eyes darkening.
“I wish,” the man shrugged. “There’s not even a trace of Light left lingering around her wound.”
“W-what?! That’s… that’s impossible!!”
“…” the man looked at Ymmir gingerly for a moment, chuckling right after and getting up. “This Kingdom… will undergo a massive upheaval soon, I feel. We’ve tossed and turned in content for long enough, and it seems someone has arrived to end that status quo. One day, you’ll be contacted by the same man who killed your mother – if you are as clever as you deem yourself, young Lord, you’ll listen to that man very carefully. If not… well. Somebody else will, I’m sure.”
“… you really won’t help?” Ymmir asked as he saw the man preparing to leave.
"… if it helps," the man said. "Even if I wanted to, it is too late. I don't know how he did it, but the assailant had drained all the Light out of her, shriveling her Bright. Were she twenty-thirty years younger it wouldn't have mattered, but she's an old woman, young Lord, with an old and meek body that was almost entirely sustained by the Light. If you are still dissatisfied with my decision, feel free to report me to His Majesty – tell him that Lucent Lord Aevoy refused to treat your Mother on the count of her nature. I’ll be happy to oblige the summons.”
“…w-wait, please!”
“… what?” the man turned just before vanishing, throwing a curious glance at Ymmir.
“… c-can… can you help us? Track down the man who did this?”
“…” Aevoy’s curious glance turned into a dubious look. “How?”
“U-uh…”
“My Light is weaker than yours, young Lord,” Aevoy said. “The only reason I am respected more than you is because my Light forms up the Bright differently than yours. I’ve neither the means nor the desire to chase down the hound that killed a Duchess in front of dozens of her guards and then slipped like a Wright into the night. Besides, I’m pretty certain you’ve already tried to contact the Bloodied; if you need someone tracked down, you can’t do better than asking them short of having the Wheel itself do your bidding.”
“…”
“Haah,” Aevoy sighed, seeing Ymmir’s downtrodden expression. “I suppose I can at least offer a quip or two to you, as a form of apology – there is no person in the world that can hide his or hers Trace of Light, young Lord. No matter how great of an expert they are, they do not command the Light. Nobody does.”
“W-what are you saying…”
“I am saying exactly what you’re hearing,” Aevoy said. "Whatever that person used to hide the dagger and to escape was not Light. Be careful what you do with that information, my Lord,” Aevoy added just before vanishing. “These waters you are about to tread aren’t nearly as forgiving as your House’s enemies…”