Chapter 5

“For Him and Yourself”

Down below the surface world, Arithmetia’s own storm began to brew. Lava lakes swelled and the heat intensified that caused dry friction in the air. Lightning struck across the high red and black clouds and crashed into rocky mountainsides – causing boulder avalanches and lava slides. Growling thunder stretched over hills and plateaus and pounded against Lovelacia’s fortress walls. The heated wind tore at the stone and threatened to rip flags from their poles. Despite the incoming storm, a drop of rain had never fallen in Arithmetia.

Water bubbled from deep below to the surface – heated and often boiling. Natural water wells were a rarity and there was usually a village nearby to accompany them. Lovelacia however had several natural water wells that provided enough water for the large population, including their crops of fungi and molds. The Valaah had adapted to drinking the near-toxic water that was heavy with metals and minerals that saturated it. To most other species, consistent drinking of the water would prove deadly over time, leaving mainly the Valaah to reside in the hellish landscape.

Upon closer inspection, the land was a vibrant place with pools of yellow and orange lining the water wells. Whatever water had flooded over grew crystals of red and pale yellow around the banks of the puddles. Steam filled the air with a choking aroma of chemicals and minerals and drifted into the skies to mark where a well was located. It was this water that brought the most color to Arithmetia; Colors the Valaah used for clothes, paint, and cosmetics.

When it stormed, water would swell from the wells and overfill its mouth to spill boiling hot water onto the nearby area and provide a spot for mold and fungus to grow. The more intense the storms grew, the more water poured from the throat of the well. Lahaeva Lake was an opening to a massive active volcano that ran deep underground beneath Lovelacia. It rested right beside the fortress and threw magma high into the air with its violent churning. The magma splattered against the sturdy bricks and slid down back into the mouth of the volcano in its uneasy state. The fortress was built specifically to withstand such an angry force of nature on a weekly basis.

Tides in the lake came and went through the pressure of the magma beneath the surface, where lava flooded the rocky banks before slowly receding back into the ground as if the lake took breaths. The more the lake swelled, the more light it provided for the Valaah to see. When the lake was at its lowest tide, the people slept peacefully and enjoyed the calm rumble of the volcano beneath them. Lahaeva Lake was the people’s way of telling time without a sun or moon to follow. It was consistent and reliable, and it never erupted – only boiled and thrashed during storms.

More lava spewed into the air and splattered against the banks all while the Valaah guards watched from the top of the walls out of reach. Their armor reflected the orange glow like a mirror and their nostrils took in the heated scent of molten rock. They were fearless against the storm above and below; None flinched when the lightning struck or when the lava exploded. Their hands gripped their spears tightly as they made their rounds and kept guard of the Queen – who had been the subject of scrutiny since the rejected proposal from Guardian. Unrest was amidst the Valaah population and sleep was something they could not seem to find. Thankfully, there was still peace without a riot since the anniversary celebration.

Cariphae could feel her people’s disdain and anger through the reinforced brick walls as she sat in her office alone with nothing but a glass of spiced liquor in her hand. The same dark liquid that frequently comforted her couldn’t seem to comfort her now. She leaned forward in her chair and faced the blazing fireplace – staring into its bright flames as if she tried to burn her troubles in them. Cariphae felt pulled towards the flames the longer she stared. Whispers echoed in her troubled mind.

Guilt infested every inch of her soul now and weighed down on her with an unliftable heaviness. Her frown was etched into her face almost permanently with no strength to smile. Her choices repeatedly passed by to remind her of how she had somehow failed everyone around her, including herself. She felt pitiful and weak with a sadness far stronger than she could ever hope to fight. Her struggles in war proved nothing compared to the war she was losing with herself.

The solemn emptiness she felt both inside herself and the room around her began to make itself louder for her to hear. Then there was a sudden new presence at her door when Agatha peeked inside to see her queen once again staring into empty flames. She had only watched for a brief minute before Cariphae shifted in her seat and set her glass down on the desk. Cariphae spoke quietly with a voice that was meek and exhausted.

“You may come in, Agatha. Please.”

Agatha entered the office with her hands held together in front of her before pausing in the center of the room. Agatha was elegant and careful in the way she approached her friend. She was sure to give her space when it was needed but she couldn’t seem to do that at this hour when Cariphae seemed far more troubled than usual. Her eyes fell on Cariphae’s bottle of relief and the near-empty glass before they found their way back to the golden-haired woman. She waited to speak in hopes that the Queen would say something, but there was only silence.

“Cariphae,” Agatha began with a soft tone, “who was that man in your garden?” She asked. She waited through the long moment of silence from the Queen.

“I don’t know.” Cariphae finally replied.

“Did he give you his name?”

“Captain Adamus O’Dweller, he said. A pirate lord on the surface supposedly.” Cariphae answered.

“Please, forgive me, ma’am. What did he say to you if I may ask? I fear the stranger has bewitched you.” Agatha took a step closer as she slightly tilted her head to the side in curiosity.

“You spied,” Cariphae said flatly. Agatha looked away in shame.

“I did not mean to eavesdrop on your conversation, your majesty. I was worried for you and came to give you company once Guardian had left. I only heard the last few words you both had before he disappeared. Please forgive me, I was concerned–” Agatha explained before seeing her Queen’s hand softly raise as to put a pause on Agatha’s explanation.

“You did nothing wrong, Agatha. There’s no need to apologize for caring for my safety, but don’t concern yourself with it. He is gone and will remain gone. There is no bewitchment here.” She reassured before placing the same hand on her face to try and rub away the aching in her brows. Her fingertips combed into her hairline which had become a messy braid. The Burning Bloom had begun to wilt as the magic faded away over time and sagged in her hair.

“Cariphae… If I may speak freely for a moment?” Agatha requested as she slowly closed the gap between her and her friend.

“You may.”

“I’m concerned for you, my friend. I have known you the entirety of my long life, and these recent years have shown me that your flame is dying. You have drowned your sorrows more frequently and you are not yourself. I fear that you are – how shall I say,” Agatha paused as she looked away to find the careful words she needed to express her grief, “not well in your heart.”

There was no response from Cariphae nor an expression on her face other than her usual frown. It may have appeared that she did not care but Agatha’s words sank deep. Even her own friend – her only friend – had seen enough of her dismay that it was a cause for concern. The guilt increased on the Queen’s shoulders. Only Agatha saw her sorrow while the rest of the kingdom knew only an immovable object of wrath and strength.

“I am not well in my heart, Agatha. When the Red War ended, a part of me died with it.” Cariphae admitted painfully.

“When you lost Virgoth.”

“I loved him so dearly. I wish it had been me who lost the war. I wish I had died instead of him. Had I known what it would be like, I would have let him eat my heart and leave me to rot in that bloody field.” Cariphae turned her head from Agatha and felt burning orange tears swell in her eyes. She wiped them away and smudged the charcoal liner. She couldn’t hide her tears anymore and felt exposed while they fell.

“And so, it would be Virgoth I’d be serving now, as he would be sitting alone in that chair wishing the same for himself.” She consoled. Agatha came to Cariphae’s desk and rested her long fingers on the surface. “Will you come with me, my friend?” She asked.

“I would rather stay put.” Cariphae replied and wiped the tears away with her knuckles.

“I implore you, for your sake. There is something I believe you should see.” Agatha pleaded.

Cariphae exhaled and gradually rose from her chair while pulling the Burning Bloom from her hair to set it on her desk. The flower fell to its side and dropped a petal with a few dying embers spilling from its center. She was still wearing her dress but had removed her heels, leaving her barefoot. She stood straight and pulled a few loose strands of hair behind her ear.

“And for your sake, I will follow.” Cariphae cleared her throat. Agatha bowed her head and lead the way.

The two walked silently side by side down endless hallways with nothing but the sound of echoing footsteps to break the stillness of the hot air with the occasional roll of thunder. Flashes of warm light flickered in the halls through the windows from the storm. Guards marched passed Agatha and the Queen every so often as they patrolled the halls and bowed to their Queen and her advisor. Agatha was graceful in her stride with her chin lifted. Cariphae had lost her grace and instead walked with a drag to her step.

Down grand halls and winding stairs below lava level was the lower portion of the fortress. The stairs wound downwards so deep that the slightest noise echoed repeatedly until slowly fading into a whisper. There were only stairs and no railing in the rounded stairwell where the bottom was pitch black. An inch of dust coated the stairs from lack of use.

The deeper they went, the cooler the air felt. Only the light of Cariphae’s hair lit the darkness and allowed the two to see their way down. They both had lifted the front of their dresses to traverse the stairwell safely and watched as the dust fall into the depths. The bricks moaned from the weight of the fortress with the occasional wallop from the lake bubbling against it. Even Cariphae found the sounds to be eerie despite knowing well what lay at the bottom of her home. The substructure of Lovelacia was a place she dared not go into without good reason.

Cariphae couldn’t explain her lack of distress; She had nearly forgotten about what certain portions of the basement held. It felt more like ruins the deeper she went into it since there was no need to visit the substructure anymore. Old weapons, statues, and whatever else was left of the civilization before her reign rested below the fortress like a cemetery. Instead of lavishing herself and her army with the spoils of war, she had locked them away deep down below to be unseen and forgotten. However, she never could truly forget it.

Agatha eventually saw the bottom and let go of her dress to continue walking. Cariphae followed and looked around when she heard what sounded like a haunting whisper in the darkness. There was more than creaking and moaning of brick and lava; There were muffled howls and ominous clanking that the darkness breathed. It was easy to assume that the substructure had long been haunted as many had died violently there long ago. After all, it once served as a prison and torture chamber for the Ensanguined when they were in power.

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It didn’t seem to bother Agatha as she stepped bravely into the shadows without Cariphae’s soft glow. Cariphae was hesitant and took smaller steps forward to see the rounded stone archway open into a larger tunnel. There were cobwebs and dried brown dust with a tinge of red that reminded Cariphae of how the floors here were once flooded with blood. She supposed it had never been flushed out and cleaned properly. Walking barefoot into the dusty old blood sent a hair-raising chill up her spine and she wished she had worn her shoes.

There were much older footprints and lines dragged across the floor from when her soldiers were storing Ensanguined possessions in the cells. Her glow lit up the dismal iron bars and shimmered off dusty piles of armor and swords. Stacked piles of folded cloth and linen were bundled up in the corners of some cells while others held mountains of furniture, statues, urns, and banner poles. Most cells looked to have nothing but junk lazily thrown in them while others were neatly organized with works of art. Many of the cells were left open while the locked cells contained wooden chests with inches of caked-on dust atop their lids.

The tunnel was lined with burnt-out candle sconces and reeked of mold that had grown black near the ceiling. The smell of rust mixed with the mold, and Cariphae couldn’t tell if the rusty smell came from the iron bars or the dried blood. A cold whisper reached from the shadows of a cell and forced the Queen to look for its source over her shoulder; She saw nothing but old wooden crates. She looked forward to see Agatha continuing to walk down the hall that led to a singular wooden door reinforced with iron bars and a broken lock and chain. She knew what was behind that old door and stopped.

“Why are you taking me here, Agatha?” She asked. Agatha stopped too and turned to her friend and gestured to the old door.

“To help you.” Agatha replied simply. “Only a few moments of your time, friend. Do you trust me?”

Cariphae was hesitant once again and began to remember why she feared the substructure. Though it had been a retired prison and torture chamber, it still found a way to torture her in its own special way. She trusted Agatha with everything and didn’t understand why she would bring her down here. They both knew what was behind the door and it could’ve been easier to simply discuss it in her office, but that wasn’t how Agatha worked.

There was a reason Agatha wanted her to see the haunting memory resting in peace down there and Cariphae knew that perhaps it was simply what she needed to overcome the pit she was falling into. She didn’t know what she needed; She didn’t know what she wanted either. She didn’t know where to turn to for answers considering she was the one everyone always turned to for answers. For once, she was the one who was lost.

Lost in a dark cruel hellish world that she created for herself ­­­­­­– a land filled with loathing dark shadows following her around every corner – she longed for any hope of escape and relief. As fearless as the Queen was in battle and blood, she was terrified of the unknown. The anxiety gnawed at her stomach the longer she stood still and stared at the door before them. She took a step back and swallowed hard when she felt her throat tighten. There was fear in the Queen’s eyes that Agatha could see.

“It would be all too easy to walk away now and return to your office, Cariphae, but all that awaits you there is your drink. I cannot and will not stop you if you feel that you cannot handle this. I am here for you, my friend, for whatever you may choose to do.” Agatha said.

“No.” Cariphae immediately argued. “I trust you.”

“Then allow me, your majesty. I will be with you.” Agatha bowed her head and one tendril from the base of her skull reached towards the door. It curled itself around the old, rusted knob and twisted until it unlocked with a clank, then fell open slowly on its own with a terrible squeal. The squeal felt eerie as if opening a crypt with dust falling from the top of the door onto the floor. Agatha motioned for her friend to enter first, which Cariphae did with careful steps. The air felt colder as it flowed from inside the black room and was stale with age that Cariphae could taste simply by breathing it in when it washed by her.

Upon entering the room, she barely remembered just how open and large it was. Her soft glow couldn’t reach the ceiling or walls and only met the thick blackness. What her glow did reach was a large tattered red sheet that covered something bulky underneath. It stood well over twenty feet high and had several points at the top like mountain peaks. Cariphae shivered at the sight of it and remembered how the room was carved out specifically to accommodate the object beneath the sheet.

She had it bricked up and locked away behind a heavy door with bars shortly after the object had been moved safely to its final resting place. However, when her wounds were still fresh, she couldn’t keep herself away from it. The chain and lock had been melted off and the door remained unlocked just in case she ever needed to revisit her worst nightmare beneath her fortress. She was regretting it now that she was forced to stand before it once more.

She gripped the sheet and tore it away from its place to reveal a tall bronze statue of a man in sharp layered armor. His hand was outstretched and empty as if offering something to her. Gauntlets with metallic claws as long as daggers adorned both hands with shoulder plates spiked high upwards in a dangerous fashion. His cape fell to the base of the statue and was locked to his chest plate which had been shaped to look like two dragon claws locked together with woven fingers. His boots looked heavy and sharp with medium heels and fierce spurs. His sword was displayed openly and nearly ran the entire length of his leg, for it was a broadsword – the same broadsword Cariphae had mounted above her fireplace. His armor’s style was painfully similar to Cariphae’s as if they had once been matched as a pair.

His face was handsome and sharp with a masculine jawline, structured nose, almond eyes, and hair that reached a wicked widow’s peak and had been slicked back. His eyebrows were angled, and his facial hair came to a short point along his chin with a trimmed mustache to match. His posture was strong, fearless, ominous, and vicious. His teeth were sharp, and his fangs were proudly displayed through parted lips. The most intense feature the statue had were his irises which had been carved from garnet with two sharp pupils.

The statue was old and worn but some parts glistened in Cariphae’s glow. Her heart pounded in her chest when she could see the glimmer of light reflecting off his eyes as if he were staring directly back at her. A frozen memory caught in molten bronze at the height of his reign was what the statue represented to her. A ghostly image cast in hellfire reminded her of who once ruled her. The Ensanguined King – Virgoth – stood over Cariphae with such power even in his death.

Agatha approached behind Cariphae carefully and looked up to see the statue for herself. She had never seen Virgoth alive and hardly knew what he looked like because all portraits and depictions of the Ensanguined King had either been scorched or stowed away. It was almost too easy to assume Cariphae was attempting to erase the fallen king from history, but Agatha knew better. It was all to stop painful memories from haunting the queen – to no avail.

“Why do you want me to see him? It only hurts.” Cariphae asked as she unknowingly reached to touch the scar on her lip. Agatha inhaled softly and stepped closer to the statue, noticing old rotten flowers at his feet. Some of which had turned to dust and left an imprint.

“Because he would want to see you.” Agatha replied and saw Cariphae lower her head in pain while grabbing at her chest when a spike of anguish struck her. “Not like this, though. Not a dull flame.”

“He would relish in it, I’m sure. I stole everything from him. This pain would be justice in his eyes.” Cariphae closed her eyes to fight back burning tears. The pain of seeing their battles flashed across her eyelids as if there was no hiding from them. The spiteful words spat between them burned her ears and wilted her heart. His hateful glare pierced her soul as if he wanted nothing but to see her die in his hands. Surely, he would want to see Cariphae fall from grace if he could.

“No. He would want to see you burn bright; Bright as the day you came to Endle for battle,” Agatha countered, “the day arrows caught fire as they fell towards you and turned to ash as they brushed your skin. You were mighty. You were an unstoppable force. You were the queen he wanted at his side.”

“I was–” Cariphae uttered.

“You were certain. Even in the heat of battle and at the peak of violence, you were certain of what you wanted and who you were.” Agatha toughened her tone. “Each day you fought, he saw the fire and the wrath that not even he could tame. You were the unconquerable heat he challenged for ten years. For ten years, Cariphae, you two battled and at any time, you could’ve ended it altogether. The Red War was drawn out because neither of you wanted to kill the other. I know you better than anyone in both the realms. I know you could’ve ended it. I know he could’ve too.”

The reality of Agatha’s words stung like salt in a fresh deep wound, and she found no words to argue with. It was true. Much of her guilt lay in her pride and her hesitance to due direct battle with Virgoth, for all she wanted in her days of war and anger was to draw out as much pain and suffering to her enemy as possible. Yet, she didn’t. Throughout all the years of war, a part of Cariphae hoped that it would end and things would return to how they were. If Virgoth committed no such war-ending assault, then he too wanted what she wanted. She knew he loved her throughout the Red War, and in his death.

Cariphae looked at Virgoth’s statue and approached it. She placed her hand gently upon his boot and looked down at her fingertips and wondered if he could hear her. Sometimes she had wished he could and would know her sorrow. Every doubt swam within her and told her she had been wrong, but she couldn’t deny that no matter how heartbroken and lonely she felt, she had done what was right in the end. She saw it in her people’s eyes every day when they lived free and peaceful lives. She could see it in their children who played carelessly in the streets.

“I was certain, back then. Now, I’m not sure what I should do. Things change, Agatha.” Cariphae hung her head. She had grown so weary in two centuries that she couldn’t see the fire still burning within her. All that fed her flame now was the love she held for her precious Valaah; It is what kept her going and it is what forced her to deny Guardian a right to rule them in any way. She knew that in her trapped suffering, her people thrived freely.

“Many things needed change then. You were certain that they needed to. It is no different now than it was then.” Agatha explained. “What must change now?”

Cariphae didn’t know exactly. Arithmetia was at peace and her people were free, but they wanted more freedom and deserved it. Guardian was an ally, but he couldn’t be trusted with his unpredictability. She pulled her hand from Virgoth’s boot and tightened her fist. Confronting the truth was never easy, not even for a queen known to be as strong – if not stronger – than a demi-god like Guardian himself. For Cariphae to come to terms with what was truly wrong with her, she had to lay down all her pride and take selfish action.

Fittingly, she had begun to lay it down before the foot of Virgoth who had perished from it. Looking up at those eyes that once held true love for her, she felt a tear fall halfway down her cheek before it sizzled into steam and vanished. The hollow shell she had become was never something he would’ve wanted to see, even if they were in the midst of tearing each other apart. Ruling the kingdom he once held as only half the woman she was when she took it was an insult to her most worthy opponent that would ever face her. Even in his death, he deserved to be replaced by a queen as worthy and fierce as he once was – if not better.

“Me. I must change.” Cariphae replied. “I can no longer keep a promise I made. I must go to Endle and find myself. I need to know who I am. I cannot lead our people if I am lost. It’s not what he would’ve wanted,” Cariphae admitted as she looked back up to see Virgoth’s eyes gleaming in her light, “and if it starts a war, then I will be certain that anyone who stands in my way will burn to ash.”

Agatha smiled and bowed her head, knowing that the spark of life was still in her friend. Cariphae turned to look at Agatha and saw the relief in her eyes. She now understood why she had brought her to see the statue of Virgoth.

“You want me to go to the surface.” Cariphae fully turned around and tilted her head curiously.

“It is time you find your happiness. It isn’t in your office, that much I am certain.”

“I cannot just leave–” Cariphae tried to reason.

“Yes, you can. You gave our land freedom and honored our forefathers. It is time we gave you the same in return. We will be okay, we are strong.” Agatha approached Cariphae and placed her hand on her shoulder. “You are more than just a queen, my friend. Your heart beats just as ours do, our mark is in your flesh, and that makes you one of us.”

Cariphae looked up at the tall woman with an expression of relief and liberation. Knowing that her only true friend supported her and urged her to finally release herself from the darkness swallowing her whole was overwhelming. She reached out for Agatha and threw her arms around her and felt Agatha bend down to embrace her. Agatha hugged her dearly and felt Cariphae’s heat radiate intensely. She could feel the life and hope reignite within her friend and smiled.

There would be backlash from her people in the choice she had taken, but in her heart, she knew that this was the only way she could continue living. The guilt still weighed heavy on her shoulders and leaving her throne – albeit temporarily – only added to that weight. She may not have been certain of who she was or what she would do in a time of unrest in Arithmetia, but she was certain that she had no choice but to heed the Captain’s words and return to the surface once more after countless years to find the truth. He knew something that could release her from the darkness. Whether it was a trick or not didn’t matter anymore; she would find the truth no matter the cost.

“I will assemble the plans necessary for your leave and alert the nobles.” Agatha reassured and stood up fully to usher the Queen out the door.

“You will serve in my place until I return. I don't know how long I will be on the surface or what will be waiting on the other side.” Cariphae ordered as she left the room and Agatha followed – closing the door behind her.

“I am more than happy to do so, ma’am. I am no queen, but I am confident my wisdom and experience will keep the people safe and secure in your absence.” Agatha bowed her head and twisted the knob back into place.

“I’m confident too, Agatha. I would trust no other.”

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