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Powerless Before You
Act 2 Ch 3: Images

Act 2 Ch 3: Images

The meeting with the queen had come and gone. Miles and Elena returned to the ship. Soon after, all the former-prisoners were led to town, where the queen had prepared ten carriages to escort them to the Eternasian capital, where she could provide shelter for all of them. Galen and Bronson, meanwhile, head down to town to provide supplies such as wheat and fresh fish.

“So, what’s the mission?”

With a hand on her hip and an inquisitive tilt of her head, Leila planted that question upon Miles and Elena, who were now standing aboard the ship of the Dead Sea Pirates—known across the lands as the Hellwaves Traveler.

“We are sailing to Dead God’s Isle,” Miles reported. “Our objective is an ancient relic found in the depth of the Island’s Palace.”

Leila flipped her long, blonde hair, and with narrowed eyes interrogated further. “That freaky place again?” The concern was audible in her voice.

“I—is it dangerous?” Elena asked.

“Not particularly. Kabeasts do dwell the nearby seas, but the islanders use magic to keep them under control,” Miles said.

“The beasts aren’t my worry. It’s the people,” Leila commented. “Their leader in particular. He always made me feel uneasy.”

“We have no choice. We must follow the queen’s orders—unless you know of a way to pay off a debt bigger than a mountain.”

“If I knew, I wouldn’t be a pirate, kiddo.”

“So wait, you guys owe money to the queen?”

“Well, I’d say it’s more than just money. You see, Miles’ father was quite the—”

“Asshole,” said Miles bluntly, completing Leila’s sentence for her. Elena, for her part, let out a hearty laugh, caught off-guard by the sudden swear that had seeped out of Miles’ mouth.

“Yeah, pretty much. He was a complete dumpster of a person, and a gambling addict to boot. But he was the mightiest warrior this side of the Black Swordsman, so the Queen employed his blade often. He was so deep in debt, however, that even now Miles is forced to follow her orders.”

EIena felt this Black Swordsman was a person of renown, but she’d rather hear that tale later. Right now, she fixated on Miles, who remained with downcast eyes.

Catching her look of concern, Miles snorted, then stomped the wooden floor, straightening his posture. “If it makes you feel any better, the queen has said that this will be one of our last tasks. Soon, our debt will be fully pardoned.”

“Don’t you feel bothered by having to abide by her orders?” Elena asked.

Leila threw her hands up. “Nah. Ever since she pushed for the abolition of slavery and for women’s rights, my respect for Queen Imogen has only grown. Visiting creepy places is not to my liking, but there are worse agendas out there one can push in exchange for coin.”

Pirates working for the crown—that was the reality of the Dead Sea Pirates. A close crew that lived by honor instead of treachery, who prided themselves on doing good before making gold.

And whose ship featured surprisingly modern commodities, like a clean toilet and warm showers.

I’m so happy I’m heading out to adventure with THESE guys!

Elena’s eyes began to shine with the light of stars, as words burst out of her mouth like bullets out of a machine gun. “I agree. Queen Imogen had such a mature, wise aura to her. My shoulders felt at ease in her presence. I feel I can truly trust in her mission, whatever it may be. Also her hair was so long and pretty and her hips—”

“Wow, slow down there. I said I respect her, not that I idolize her.” Leila’s words came as a form of reproaching Elena, who was starting to sound like a fangirl over someone she’d just met.

“Sorry, got carried away. What about you, Miles? Does it bother you to be in her debt?“

Despite her casual tone, Miles gave Elena’s question serious consideration. He stroked his chin repeatedly while thinking.

“I suppose not. A sword is not meant to complain about their master’s will, after all.”

His response had been one born from careful contemplation, yet it only served to disconcert Elena. “A sword? You’re not a sword, silly!”

“Captain Miles, we have returned.”

Interrupting their conversation, Galen had arrived at the ship’s deck. He appeared taller than usual, looking down from below at the usually-taller Miles. There was a reason for this: he was sitting on the shoulder of Bronson, who carried him effortlessly with his brawny arms.

“We’ll be ready to sail when you give the order, Miles,” said Bronson.

“Very well. That would be now. Without carrying the former prisoners, we have no reason not to sail at top speed.”

“This thing can go even faster? I better ready my stomach, then,” whined Elena.

“Everybody, to their position.”

“Roger,” said each member of the Dead Sea Pirates, all in unison…minus Elena of course, who lagged a bit behind.

“R—roger!” She performed a military salute, a completely unnecessary maneuver as her peers did no such motion. Besmirched by everyone’s awkward stares, she tried to change the subject.

“By the way, where are Charles and Cordelia?”

“Last time I saw them, they were by my mother’s old library, reading a book,” Miles said.

“Reading a what now?” Elena screamed.

“A book,” Galen said, sounding absolutely pompous in his tone. “I understand commoners as yourself might not have heard of such devices, but let me explain them to you—”

“Be right back. I have some eggs I need to scramble.”

With steps that resounded like those of a giant, Elena abandoned the deck and went down to the living quarters. Strolling down a hallway, she took a turn left and then another one right. She burst open the door to her right.

“What are you— wait, wrong room.”

She’d heard murmur stemming from around that area, but misjudged the direction the sound emanated from. Instead, she entered the room Bronson and Galen shared, as evidenced by portraits of the two of them hugging.

As much as it inspired her…curiosity to see what else they kept there, she closed the door, turned around, and opened the new door before her.

“Now, what are you doing?”

Miles had called it a library, but in truth all the room had was a shelf full of books and a round, wooden table by the middle, all illuminated by candlelight. A modest space, but Charles and Cordelia appeared quite comfy, as they sat by the table reading, each holding one side of the book.

“Hello there, Elena,” said Charles, raising his eyes as he faked cordiality. “Have you come join us? You might need to fetch another chair.”

“I don’t like that plural of yours,” Elena said with disgust. “Cordelia, what are you doing with him?”

“We happened to coincide here, so Lord Charles suggested we read together. My apologies for not informing you.”

“So you came here of your own volition? Or did ‘Lord’ Charles—who, by the way, is no longer your boss, so you can drop the ‘Lord’ thing—drag you here?”

“Yes, I have. Reading was one of the few pleasures I was allowed back in Catella. The collection here does not compare to the Royal Library, but…”

Cordelia paused her speech. She tenderly ran her fingers down the pages of the book they were reading just then.

“I was curious what books my mother liked. If I read the same words she once did, maybe I could learn a little more about what kind of woman she was.”

Such a profound reasoning spoke to Elena, who was swarmed with emotion.

“AUGH I’M SOOOORRY I CANNOT BE MAD WITH YOU!” Elena said, a blubbering mess, as she violently rubbed her cheeks on Cordelia’s.

“It is fine, I am not offended in the slightest,” Cordelia said.

“I’ll read with you. Just the two of us. I was something of a bookworm back home, after all.”

“Hmph.” With a pompous look and mannerisms, Charles rose to his feet, attracting the looks of the two girls. “Since I appear to have been replaced in the role of reading partner, I guess I better make my leave. Unless either of you are opposed, of course.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” said Elena, in a reassuring tone and with a big smile. Her eyebrows then furrowed, giving way to a glare worthy of a fiend that revealed her true feelings. “You are indeed no longer needed. So you are invited to get the fuck out.”

She was disguising her disdain in polite language, but in the end she couldn’t keep the act up. Such was the animosity Elena held for Charles, a man who stood for everything Elena despised.

Cordelia remained silent, her innocent blue eyes only blinking in response to the scene before them. Devoid of anyone willing to defend his presence, Charles made his leave.

“Phew, thought he would never leave. Are you okay?” Elena asked Cordelia. “He didn’t put any strange ideas into your head, did he?”

“Your concern is unwarranted. All Prince Charles did was aid me with some complex vocabulary I couldn’t quite make out.”

Raising her chin in a proud manner, Elena said, “Hmph. Worry not. I am here now. I shall read along with you!”

She gave no pause to her bravado. With a confident smile, her behind plopped into the wooden chair Charles abandoned. Her hands grabbed the open book, and her eyes stared at the first page with the intensity of a sunbeam.

“Let’s see… wait, I can’t read.”

Realizing her mistake, her eyes briefly darted toward the direction of Cordelia, who simply observed her with confusion.

“Nononono, I meant, I just have eyesight problems, that’s all! I obviously can read, ehem.”

Her attempt to backtrack was not going to fool Cordelia, not when her hands were clearly fidgety.

“It is understandable if you were never taught how to read. I myself only know how thanks to my teacher.”

“Well no, it’s not that. It’s just…” She held a finger to her chin, struggling to explain. “I CAN read, it’s just… we don’t use these letters in my hometown.”

Cordelia’s eyes lit up, and she clasped her hands together, hungry to learn more. “Really? I’ve been taken across the entire continent, and I always saw these same letters. Where are you from?”

“Umm, I’m from Far. Far away. A small town. Probably never heard of it. Yeah,” lied Elena, puffing her chest. “Culture’s pretty different, y’know?”

“Will you take me there one day?” Cordelia asked, a sincerity the girl seldom showed. “ I remember how elated I felt when I finally understood the meaning of those letters I’d seen over and over again. I’d love to experience that again.”

She was spewing out bullshit, but Cordelia seemed smitten all the same. This made Elena’s shoulders release their tension, and she felt relief wash over her. Cordelia’s blue eyes devoured her with their innocence, and Elena felt the emotions her heart was pumping out take over her mind.

She’s so precious.

She was overwhelmed. Her heart was beating rapidly. Cordelia’s presence brought light into her life like a doll does to a child.

To be looked this way, to be perceived with such amicable eyes… for a self-described loser like Elena, such a sensation was unnatural, a contradiction to the rules of the world.

Thus, she would record this moment in her memories forever.

“Sure. I promise we’ll go there someday. I’ll teach you all the words I know.”

She followed her supposed promise with a giggle, an acknowledgement of the falsehood of her words. The odds of taking Cordelia to her hometown, her real hometown, were slim, as her birthplace existed only in her memories.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

But when she saw Cordelia’s adorable, blissful reaction, she knew lying had been the correct choice. For it was the option that led her savor those eyes she so esteemed for a little while longer, eyes that glimmered with such delight Elena could not believe they were looking at her.

“BUT! That will be in the future. In the meantime, wanna read this out loud? For me?”

“Of course!” Cordelia replied, taking hold of the book with excitement.

They both smiled and laughed together, enjoying both the story as well as this time they shared together.

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She thought it was over. But that night, those sensations returned.

A swath of creatures, bunching up together, taking turns tearing apart her body limb by limb. Edge of blades mercilessly penetrated every sensitive part of her.

That was at least what she could make out. In truth, the pain was so overwhelming, so complete in its malice, that it exceeded the spoken word’s ability to describe. It was an experience more proper to an animal, one who’s fallen victim to a predator: a being once full of life, reduced down to a spattering of flesh and bone.

There was no reason for this suffering. It wasn’t born out of malice or a hatred for her persona. It wasn’t some karmic payment for a misdeed she’d committed. She’d simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time, surrounded by Kabeasts that acted in accordance to their destructive nature.

And yet, it remained a burden she and she alone had to carry.

The only person who could be blamed was…

----------------------------------------

“ARGHH!”

Her back hit the wooden floor with aplomb. She managed to avoid injuring the back of her head by a stroke of fortune. Her feet were kicking the air, and the back of her legs were making contact with the bed she’d just fallen out of.

The room Leila had assigned to her was simple, featuring a bed, a desk and little else. But it was sandwiched between the rooms of Miles and Cordelia, which meant Elena appreciated it beyond the actual contents of the room. Most relevant, it also featured a window for the sake of natural light; the presence of a dark sky beyond the glass indicated it was still nighttime.

“That dang nightmare… again…” Elena blurted out as the world she stood on spun, her hand gripping her forehead to slow down her headache.

Reliving that agonizing moment had proven enough to disturb her sleep. This wasn’t the first time it’d happened, but at least before she’d awoken at the time of day. This time, she would have to spend a boring rest of the night doing absolutely nothing, as the rest of the crew remained and she wasn’t sleepy in the slightest.

“I could take the opportunity to stargaze in solitude, I suppose. Okay, technically I think Galen should be keeping guard on the watchtower… then again, that’s just a chance to mess with him a bit,” she said, grinning like a devious cat.

With careful steps, Elena sneaked around the hallways of the ship’s living quarters, intending to head outside. As she got closer and closer to the double doors separating the deck from the areas below, she became startled by the growing cacophony of clanking steel.

What is going on?

Carefully, she slightly opened the right door and peeked through the resulting gap.

“I knew it! That son of a bitch!”

Under the light of the stars, a duel was taking place. Miles and Charles traded blows back and forth with one another, grit filling their faces.

“GAAAAH!” Charles roared as he lunged forward.

Putting all his force into his blade, he aimed an overhead blow toward Miles, an attack as ferocious as it was delicate in form. Wordlessly, the weapon’s arc spoke the emotions of its wielder; the blade swung with strength, but its path was revealed in advance. Charles’ motions, albeit showing proper technique, were too telegraphed, too revealing of his inexperience with real fighting.

Miles blocked with a flick of his wrist, as swift as it was effortless. His eyes did not shake at the incoming attack, nor did his arms experience any recoil.

Nothing more than a casual display of the strength of Miles of the Dead Sea Pirates, a man for whom fighting was as common an experience as breathing.

Their swords locked with one another, their faces within kissing distance, Charles pushed with all his might. Sweat was beginning to drip down to his neck as he tried to overpower the handsome rogue, whose entire being seemed to exist to stand above him, an ideal he could never reach no matter how hard he tried.

A pointless struggle with an expected end. Miles’s strength combined with the weaving of the ship proved too much for the former prince, who lost his balance and fell on his back.

The tip of his blade threatening Charles’ neck, Miles said, “You lose!”

Still spying through the door, Elena breathed a sigh of relief. Not that she had any doubt of Miles’ victory, but it was still reassuring.

“Now, kill him, kill him!” she excitedly muttered under her breath, giving a thumbs-down like a Roman Emperor.

To her surprise however, Miles slotted his blade into its scabbard and offered Charles a hand to get back up.

“You are too predictable. In a real battle, concealing your intentions is key to keeping your head on your shoulders.”

“This is the fifth night in a row you’ve said the same thing!” Charles complained.

Oh, they were just sparring realized Elena. In hindsight, Galen was likely watching from the watchtower, so he would have rushed to announce to everyone else if there was suddenly a traitor among them.

“Because it’s the fifth night in a row you’ve done the same thing,” Miles said. “When closing your distance with an enemy, prioritize your run, then strike with a quick blow once you’re within striking distance.”

As he put his own rapier away, Charles diverted his eyes. “I can’t help it. My emotions influence the way my arm moves,” he said, defeated.

“If you want to improve as a fighter, you must forgo focus on all but the fight before you. That was what my father instilled upon me as a kid,” said Miles. “We’re done for the night, let’s head to sleep.”

And that’s my cue to leave Elena said to herself. She didn’t want to be caught spying on them, so she turned around to head back to her room, at least until they both left.

“I know you are there, Elena,” Miles shouted, clearly exasperated.

At hearing him call his name, Elena’s body froze. Miles opened the door behind her, and approached her frame.

“What are you doing these late at night pretending to be stealthy?” Miles asked.

Without the grace of even turning around to face him, Elena answered, “Oh, I just, couldn’t sleep, yeah. I wasn’t spying on what you guys were doing or anything.”

He shook his head. “It’s not like these nighttime spars were meant to be a secret or anything. Galen was already watching us from above.”

“I suppose you’re right.” She turned around.

“If you’re having trouble sleeping, I can give you my mattress.”

“Oh, no no no. That’s not the problem. I’ve just been… having recurring nightmares, is all.”

Elena admitted that with a hint of shame, rubbing her own shoulder. Miles reacted to her feelings, a look of concern growing on his face.

“I see… I suppose I can’t help you. You have been through a lot, after all. But I’ll see if Leila’s heard of any way to quell nightmares.”

Elena felt touched by his honest, caring demeanor, but at the same time was a tad perplexed. “Is there a way to prevent bad dreams in this world?”

“Not that I know of. But I don’t know all there is to know.” He tenderly touched her shoulder. “See you tomorrow.”

“S—see you.”

Miles departed toward his bedroom, abandoning the reach of Elena’s longing gaze.

Immediately afterward, she began squealing uncontrollably. “He cares for me so much. So. So. Cute.! She felt like bawling, almost. “Anyway, I should get back to my objective: getting some fresh air.”

She went through the doors and got to the upper deck. There, she remembered she had company.

“Oh, right. You’re still here.”

“That I am,” said Charles, speaking directly at Elena. Her annoyance at his person was so evident that he picked up on it immediately, the young man recoiling in response to her grimacing.

“What are you doing?” Elena’s question served the double role of both inquiry and accusation. Her tone indicated she was suspicious of the young man.

Charles, picking up on the hidden meaning behind her words, gave an adequate answer. “I have no hidden motives, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“Don’t play dumb with me. You want me to believe you’re all buddy-buddy with both the girl you treated as a slave and the man you tried to kill? Yeah, right.”

“Your lack of belief is comprehensible. But improbability is not the same as falseness. I cannot prove my loyalty to you lot, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.”

She sighed. “Whatever. Augh, I don’t even understand why they didn’t just kill you.”

“Oh, did nobody tell you?”

“Huh?” Elena exclaimed. She was simply thinking out loud, not expecting Charles actually to have a reason.

He reached into his pocket. In the palm of his hand, he held a cristal that emitted a glowing light.

“This crystal might seem familiar.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. That’s the crystal you used to flash-bang us during the ball.”

Despite the disgust she voiced, she found herself at an emotional crossroad as she observed the crystal. On the one hand, it reminded her of that woeful day, when a series of events led to the most traumatic sensation her soul had ever tasted. But at the same time, the light seemed to massage that same troubled soul, putting her mind at ease.

Wow, I’m easily distracted by pretty lights. She shook her head.

“These crystals allow for a Sword Dancer to channel the power of the Goddess herself. Light crystals are extremely rare, however, so only members of the Royal Family of Luzterna know how to wield their power.”

“So not only is Miles training you, but you are training him to use Light Crystals?”

“In effect. Also, attacks powered by Light mana are effective on Kabeasts, so even as a novice in the sword my abilities shall prove plenty useful”

Elena could not help but remain a bit concerned, but she accepted his explanation. It was relieving, in a way, to know Miles had assessed the risks inherent to having such a shaky character like Charles onboard.

“So then, Elena, let me ask the same question you posed back at you.”

“Huh? Which one?”

“What are YOU doing?”

Elena tilted her head. “I don’t understand.”

“You asked why I was reading with Miss Cordelia and training with Miles, am I correct? So let me direct the question back to you. What compels you to perform similar actions?”

It was true she had done the things Charles claimed. Earlier in the day, before landing at Barpueblo, she’d been training with Miles in the art of swordplay, using wooden swords. Then, she sat next to Cordelia, reading a book alongside her.

“That is none of your business!”

“I suppose it is not,” Charles said. “I just find it a little curious how you were so quick to accuse me of misconduct, despite being unable to justify similar actions.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know I needed your permission,” Elena snarked.

“You don’t need to justify anything to me. But can you justify your actions to yourself, I wonder? When I saw you spar, there was no ambition in your eyes, no will to improve. Could you answer what drove you to doing so, then?”

Elena, who had so far dismissed his words as sententious nonsense, suddenly felt a wind sweep over her.

In truth, she never held any delusions that she could one day wield a sword. More than training, what she was really doing was playing with glorified sticks.

All along, it was no more than an excuse to flirt with him. Spending time with him in the sunlight, their bodies sweating as she dropped quips and he touched her body to fix her posture. It was a fantastical scenario taken straight out of a High Seas romance novel.

“And you were so insistent on taking over as Miss Cordelia’s reading partner, despite being unable to even read. Was there some deeper reason for your behavior?”

“What are you…”

She could not refute his accusation. Albeit she did enjoy reading, she was compelled to act by a foolish, naive desire. She wanted to have Cordelia all to herself, to keep pristine the pretty little doll she saw in her.

Her view of both Miles and Cordelia was distorted by fantasy stories she’d read throughout her life on earth. No matter how much she learned of them, how much honest affection she felt toward them, she could not disguise that her feelings were shaped by the expectations she had of them.

Miles was the handsome rogue who saved her whenever she was in danger. A man willing to risk it all for his lady. Strong arms that made her feel safe when she received their hugs. A face that featured handsome features as well as an overly-long nose for a touch of cuteness. A stoic personality that was a front for his more dorkly, caring side he only revealed to her.

Her ideal romantic lead—that was the image of Miles projected inside Elena’s head.

Cordelia was a weak, broken girl of unusual yet attractive appearance whose spirit had been torn down by the cruel hand life had dealt her. Estranged from her brother, Cordelia had been forced to work against her will. To survive, she’d discarded all emotions and desires for life. That is, until Elena swooped in, rescuing her and returning the light to her life.

A precious little maiden for Elena to protect—that was the image of Cordelia projected inside Elena’s head.

Were those images truly accurate representations of their persons? Or was she just fitting them into pre-existing archetypes from stories she’d read?

And finally, there remained one topic Elena had put off thinking about, banishing within the recesses of her mind: was she allowed to hold feelings for the two of them at the same time? Or was she simply stringing them both along? Miles had even confessed his love to her, but she’d failed to respond to him, as she was yet to balance how she felt toward him with how she felt toward Cordelia.

I am a rotten woman

Elena could not help but feel disgust toward her own self. Not just for her perverse viewing of those she supposedly held dear—but for needing Charles, of all people, to be the one to point it out.

“I hate you.”

“Excuse me?”

“I meant what I said. I hate you,” Elena repeated.

Their relationship had not improved. Elena still despised him. But now there was a new reason. Him pointing out flaws within herself, flaws she’d rather ignore, only gave further fuel for her hatred for the man that was Charles.

“If my words have hit a nerve, I recommend looking inward,” Charles said. “I do not believe it is only hatred for myself what you hold.”

“Stop pretending you know anything about me,” she said. “No matter how much you blabber, my image of you will never change.”

“Really? Is your opinion of my person truly set in stone?”

Her fists shook. “I am literally awake right now because I cannot sleep. And you know why that is? Your little stunt at the ball led to one of the most traumatic experiences of my life. And you expect me to forgive you? Nope. Not possible.”

Charles’ eyes glimmered at her harsh words. He scratched the back of his head, his gaze darting in every direction.

“I suppose my actions have caused you unbearable harm. For that, I can only apologize.”

“Your apology is worth nothing.”

“If you need to speak about what happened to you, I would be glad to listen,” offered Charles.

At that suggestion, Elena grimaced, and said, “Why would I want therapy from you, of all people?”

“Because you cannot tell anyone else, am I correct? Not even Miles or Cordelia.”

“What?”

How presumptuous of him, to consider himself more worthy of her trust than the man and woman she loved. Elena wanted to stomp him like a bug, squashing his life in an instant.

“You have a secret you haven’t told anyone. Otherwise, you’d have died long ago.”

“You bastard, how do you—”

“Because you just told me!” He chuckled.

Elena bared her teeth. He was correct. Her ability to return from death was not something she’d shared with anyone else. As far as she knew, there was nothing forbidding her from revealing her power, no spell that kept her from speaking. She’d simply not been compelled to.

Why could that be? Was she just… afraid?

Would spreading knowledge of her ability change the image she held of others? The image they had of her?

Meeting Charles’ intense stare with one of her own, Elena puffed her chest. In many stories she’d read, sharing knowledge about such dangerous power would result in terrible consequences, often leading to either the listener's or speaker’s deaths.

I guess if I’m willing to risk anyone’s life, it’s his.

With that morbid thought, Elena readied her throat.

“Listen Charles. When I d—”

“We’ve got trouble!”

Her confession was hastily interrupted. Descending at the speed of raindrops, Galen slid down the watchtower’s ladder and announced the incoming danger.

“Kabeasts—they are swimming rapidly toward us!”