Our fortunes hadn’t improved much. For the second time in less than two days, we were in a prison cell; I didn’t have my staff, and I was incredibly angry. This cell, however, was far better maintained than the one Edgar had thrown us into. The bars were thick and shiny without the slightest hint of rust. Unused manacles hung from the wall above me, and I thanked my lucky stars that my arms weren’t shackled in them. As I fought through the haze in my head, I saw Alicia lounging on the bunk, her arms folded casually beneath her head. Alverd, on the other hand, was meditating on the floor, his legs crossed and his eyes closed in blissful silence.
I immediately noticed that Alverd wasn’t wearing his armor. Instead, he was wearing the simple blue tunic he wore beneath the armor. I looked outside the cell, and sure enough, hanging on a mannequin, was his armor. My staff, Alverd’s sword, and Alicia’s maul were neatly placed on a weapons rack.
Such a smug thing for that bastard to do. It smacked of arrogance that Marcus would leave our weapons so close by. I’d underestimated how obsessed he was with the throne. Thinking back, the man had set us up for this. His brash challenge, his loss in the duel, his behavior toward his sister. It was all to cultivate an image of an idiot prince with no sense. He had played us from the get-go, and he had played us well. But just because he’d gotten the drop on us didn’t mean the game was over.
I was going to enjoy killing him. I tried to picture in my mind how I would do it. Lightning? Fire? Ice? There were simply so many possibilities to draw out his suffering for as long as possible. Men like Marcus were the worst possible people, and they deserved to die screaming for their trouble. And he would scream, oh yes he would.
Then I thought about Eliza.
How had she survived? I had sent enough fire at her to roast her ten times over. I was looking forward to torturing an answer out of that bitch as soon as I was done making Marcus pay for his role in the deaths of our countrymen. I wanted to have plenty of time to inflict every horror I could on that woman. I wanted her to understand all of the agony I’d felt in watching Laura slip away from me, not that Eliza would have the heart to understand such a concept. I figured I could make her understand, though. Probably by burning her alive, one body part at a time.
I’d spare her lungs, though. I wanted to hear what she’d sound like as she suffered.
I was shaken from my reverie by the sounds of footsteps. A squad of royal soldiers came down the corridor with Marcus, looking smug, in the middle. After a moment, Eliza sauntered in as well, though she stayed more to the back. Like before, she was wearing the light fencing armor she had shown up in back at the Nest, and her hand was firmly grasping the rapier at her side. Even as Marcus moved to the front to address us, she stayed behind him; her eyes were fixed on the Prince, as though she were watching him intently.
They stopped outside our cell, and the crocodile grin on Marcus’s face grew to epic proportions. He started chuckling as he looked at us languishing in the cell.
“See where you end up? You were so eager to believe that I was a fool. That I was just some idiot who reeked of entitlement. You were ready to believe all of it because of your hate for me, your disgust. And now you’re the biggest fools in the room.”
He leaned forward, taking note of where Alicia was in our cell. “How’s my little murderer doing? Had enough time to come to terms with what you did to poor Edgar? You’re one of us, now. Just another Ishmarian Princess, ready to kill at a moment’s notice. Seeing you like this pleases me. All this time, you spouted nonsense that isn’t befitting of an Ishmarian, or a warrior.”
Alicia regarded him coldly. “You really are just like Deyovar. Our whole kingdom was rotten from the start. I should’ve known that it was never worth fighting for.” She turned away from him, so she was facing the wall. “I don’t even understand why you’d do all this, Marcus. ”
Marcus growled menacingly. “I am the firstborn of the King of Ishmar. For as long as I’ve lived, I’ve dreamed of ascending the throne. But instead of inheriting it like every other firstborn son in every other kingdom on this wretched earth, I must instead follow a moldy old tradition that dates back to the founding of our country. Why should I have to fight my lesser brethren for my birthright?”
He pounded his fist against the bars, and I recoiled away from them as the hideous sneer on his face turned savage. “When I am king, I will do away with these foolish traditions, and I will forge a better future for our nation. I will crush those magic-using dolts in Algrustos just like Father crushed Marevar! The whole world will tremble at our feet, as they should!”
My eyes narrowed at the mention of my homeland, my fear forgotten in an instant. Alverd, too, opened his eyes and trained his steady gaze on him. His grimace turned to a sick smirk. “Yes, that’s right; I recognized the seal on your shield the very moment I first saw you. All of us have trophies from your homeland. Our soldiers go on and on into the night about how weak the Marevarians were, how unprepared for their destruction they were. It’s fitting that they were put in their place. Now they tend the fields to send us food like good little sheep. As. They. Should.”
Marcus paced back and forth. The smirk on his face grew. “You know, I must have lost count of how many Marevarians I killed. Soldier, peasant, it didn’t matter. They all screamed the same, they all begged the same, and they all died the same. It was wonderful. No one who is willing to beg for their lives should have the right to live.”
That sick smirk got even wider until it looked like it wouldn’t even fit on his face. “But don’t worry. You’ll be reunited with your friends and families soon enough. When historians look back on this day, your pitiful little country won’t even warrant a footnote. Long after your bones turn to dust in the dragon pens, my kingdom will live on as the one the unified all of Selarune! I will surpass my father, his father before him and his father before him! Me! No one else!”
Marcus leaned his head back and barked out an evil laugh, the laugh of a man not right in the head. If I needed any further proof that Marcus was insane, though, I need only have looked at the fact that he had insulted our home. In front of my friend. As far as I was concerned, Marcus was a dead man walking. It was simply a matter of when and where. The only thing stopping me from punching a hole in his chest right now with a giant thunderbolt was the fact that I was staffless, which almost seemed like it would be worth giving my life for. However, that would mean that Alverd and Alicia’s lives would be forfeit, as well as my own. As long as I was alive, a way out would present itself. At least, that’s what I kept telling myself.
It was incredible, in a way. Marcus’ arrogance was so great that he truly believed that his so-called birthright justified his wanton disregard for others’ lives. It was one thing to read stories of villains who were so detached from reality and another thing entirely to meet one in the flesh. But in my mind, it also highlighted how unfit Marcus was to rule. If he was crowned king, he would sit upon a throne comprised of corpses…those of his enemies and his people.
Finally, Marcus’s hysterical laughter came to an end. Alicia spoke once again.
“So why not just murder all of your siblings? ” She spat to the side. “Evros knows what a coward you are, Marcus. It’d be child’s play for you to take such a path.”
Marcus frowned. “As direct and easy as it would be to do such a thing, the country is still mired in the old ways. Were I to resort to such methods, the people would never accept me as their king. They would doubtless call for my head on a pike. No, as much as my worthless kin deserve such a fate, such will not come to pass.”
Eliza snorted. “Take care of how you address me, brother. Perhaps you forget who it was who located Edgar’s hiding place. Or maybe you forget who it was who poisoned Alicia’s dragon? If I truly am so worthless, then maybe you should just kill me too… if you have the stones for it, that is.” There was a derisive tone to her voice, as if she were almost goading Marcus for a violent response.
An animalistic growl emerged from Marcus’ throat as he addressed his sister.
“Don’t try to outsmart me, Eliza. If thinking were your strong suit, I’d have had you killed long ago. The only reason you’re alive is because you know how to swing a sword better than most. Threaten me again and it’ll be the last time.” Marcus turned to look Eliza dead in the eyes. “If you think I haven’t accounted for any betrayals from you, you’re sorely mistaken. If I die, then I’ll drag you down to hell with me, one way or another.” Eliza growled back, but relented, stepping back from him.
Marcus swiveled back around to us, his grin back on his face. “Right now, Father is headed to the Royal Tomb to mourn your passing. Officially, you died attempting to redeem your honor at the Nest. Father will be holding an all-night vigil at the Tomb to honor your memory, which is why it will be so delicious later when you somehow cheat death in order to murder him and the rest of your family when no one else is the wiser.”
“You see, if my disgraced sister and her newly acquired criminal outsider underlings were to kill the royal family in an attempt to gain the throne, but were stopped by the heroic First Prince,who was unfortunately unable to save his beloved father or siblings from her wrath, then not only would I gain the throne, but the people would rally behind me. They would see me as their savior, their guiding light in a wave of new expansion.”
Marcus spread his arms wide. “I will step up our military development. Soon after I take the throne, my spies will make a startling discovery that Algrustian assassins tried to help my sister in her plot. We will march to glorious battle and wipe them out like we did the Marevarians! No longer will we tolerate the presence of those moldy old bookworms. No longer will we sit within our borders, stagnating. I will see this land united under our rule, or I will burn it all to the ground!”
The mad prince burst out laughing again. He was a stone-cold psychopath. His soul was black and twisted, and held no remorse for his actions. His premeditated plot for the future of his country did not take into account the welfare of his people, only his selfish, childish ambition. Killing him wouldn’t just be personally satisfying it would be a favor to the rest of the bloody world.
His laughter finally came to an end, and he leered at us from behind the bars. “The Rite of Succession begins tomorrow morning, only a few hours after Father returns from the Tomb. My men will plant the poison before the Tournament begins. The dragons of my siblings are of sufficient age that they will be able to resist the effects just long enough for the fighting to properly begin. When the dust clears and I send soldiers to investigate what happened, they will find your mangled bodies in the dragon pens, with the poison in your possession. It will be clear as day what happened.”
Marcus shrugged nonchalantly as he addressed us one last time. “Come tomorrow morning, you’ll all be dead. And with a tie to the Algrustians, it won’t be long before I bring them the blazing ruin they so richly deserve.” He looked at me with his smug face. “And you, you’ll get to be the match that starts the whole fire, mage. You can think about that as you await the end.”
With a quick, practiced hand motion, Marcus signaled to his guards. They turned and began marching out of the dungeon. He sneered one last time, then followed the guards as they goose-stepped out of sight. I spat out between the bars, for all the good that it did. I grunted in frustration and laid back on the cold stone floor, completely at a loss for words.
And then Eliza re-entered the room. I glared at her, trying my best to show my utter hatred for her with my eyes alone. I knew who she was now. I knew what she’d done. What I’d done to her. All this time, she had known who I was. Unlike me, she hadn’t tried to repress her memory. When she saw the spark of recognition in my eyes, her thin lips quirked up in amusement.
“Mage. I must say, I’m a little insulted. It took you so long to remember who I am.”
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I bared my teeth. “How did you survive?”
Eliza raised her hand to her breastplate and tapped it. “The royal family has armor forged with dragon tooth metal. When forged in that fashion, it becomes remarkably fire-resistant, able to absorb and disperse heat up to a very high temperature. When we wear a full suit, nothing short of an adult dragon’s breath itself can burn us to death.”
Eliza removed the gauntlet on her left arm. “But magic is a sinister force that does not follow rules set by mortal man. When you threw me, the fire swept into my armor and tried to boil me alive from the inside. My face and head were spared, but as you can see…”
Eliza removed the glove from her left hand and pulled her sleeve up. I could see that her flesh was marred by extensive burn scars, long since healed, all along her arm and stretching back up past where her sleeve began. No doubt the burns covered the whole of her body below her neck, which explained why she had opted not to wear a dress during the Ball.
“…The rest of me was not so fortunate. I had to pry my own armor off to avoid being cooked alive. Our strategists were fools to think you were helpless. We were right to destroy you. Given time, you would’ve become a threat, and any warrior knows that the best time to eliminate an enemy is before they become strong enough to challenge them.”
Alicia tried to appeal to Eliza, turning away from the wall. Her voice was starting to crack.
“Eliza, you of all people must see that Marcus is wrong, the destruction he will cause to our home. Why help him? Why poison my dragon? Marcus’ plan will cause our nation’s downfall! Don’t you care about your family?”
Eliza’s face hardened. “Our family? Those airheaded fools who parade in their fancy clothes at their fancy balls? Those same idiots who barely know what it means to truly fight? They slaughtered commoners in the war, sister. I earned my place fighting soldiers. When the time comes, I will lead our armies to victory over the Magister Lords of Algrustos, and the Witch-Queen herself. It is a role I am far better suited for than the throne, and one I would not mind playing.”
She suddenly broke into a crooked smile. “And who knows? Perhaps a time will come when an opportunity to advance myself even further may present itself. Marcus is many things, but stupid is not among them. But even he is no stranger to complacency. In time, he may forget that I will always be watching and waiting for him to show the slightest bit of weakness.”
Suddenly, without warning, Eliza lunged forward and slammed her fists against the bars, bringing her face less than six inches from my own, which caused me to reel back in surprise.
“Perhaps I should kill you just to be safe, mage. Just like I killed your little friend. That raven-haired wench. You’re not the only one who relives that night, spellslinger. I have wondered for years if you survived the slaughter. And now for you to waltz into my home under my sister’s protection! It must be Fate at work.”
This close, I could see straight into her eyes, and they sparkled with deep-seated madness born of rage. The terror I’d once felt when I first saw Eliza came surging back, and I could feel my blood almost freeze in my veins. I wanted to be anywhere else than here, in front of this terrifying woman and her unhealthy obsession with me.
Then she removed her hands,and took a step back. “Unfortunately, Marcus needs you alive for the time being, so you can ‘testify’ to being an Algrustian spy sent to cause a power vacuum that will weaken Ishmar. If it were up to me, I would put my sword through your heart right now…and I would savor every moment of it.” Eliza ran her tongue over her lips after she spoke, as if she wasn’t creepy enough already.
Alverd narrowed his eyes, but remained where he was. “So you’re the one. You’re the one who killed Laura.” There was an uncharacteristic edge in his voice, like he was trying to restrain himself but barely succeeding. “Kuro told me, the night we escaped, how Laura had died. He might have forgotten your face, but I haven’t forgotten what you did. I’ve always hoped I’d get to meet the one who killed our friend so I can repay you in kind.”
Gods, Alverd was scary. He was clearly losing his restraint. Eliza turned her head to Alverd, and spoke to him in a flippant tone that conveyed a total lack of remorse and empathy.
“What’s it to you? You weren’t even there. I don’t fear you, knight. You’re just a failure, a weakling not worth my time. Just like that girl. Talk all you want, because even if you did have a blade, you’d still be nothing.”
Eliza smirked one last time as she locked eyes with me. “Enjoy your last moments, mage. Maybe beg that girl to forgive you. In a little while, you’ll be dead. Just another notch on my blade.”
Eliza turned and headed for the door. Without a word, she opened the massive iron door, stepped through, and closed it. I could hear her slamming the bolt on the other end, like a death knell for any shred of hope I may have had left. Again, I fell back and laid upon the floor, staring up at the ceiling.
Silence reigned in the cell for hours. I watched Alverd silently open and close the fingers of his right hand, grinding the fingernails against his palm whenever he made a fist. He was trying to fight the anguish, the hate, and I’d never seen him like that before. For hours, he did that, his eyes clouded as he struggled with his feelings. The late afternoon sun began to dip beneath the horizon, casting a ray of red light through the window of our cell. I lay there, thinking about the situation.
What had happened in Guilford seemed so far away and insignificant now. Hard to believe it had been less than a week since Alverd and I had stumbled out of the mountain pass and into Alicia’s life. I could scarcely believe that such a simple act of Fate had gone and dragged all of my demons out into the light, had exposed the ones Alverd tried even harder than me to conceal, and brought all of it crashing together in this huge, chaotic mess.
And then there was Alicia. I took a second to see what she was doing. She was hugging her knees in the corner, pulling them tight against her chest as she cried to herself quietly. The wall of steel I’d erected around my heart cracked for a second. I had forgotten that even though I’d gone through so many unpleasant memories in the past few hours, Alicia was suffering through all of this for the first time.
Having no blood family, I wasn’t the best person to judge whether what she was going through was as bad as what had happened to me. She had, up until now, tried to hold her family close, despite knowing full well that someday she’d have to fight her brothers and sisters. She’d wanted to believe that, even though they weren’t all full-blooded siblings, that they could be a family. But the past few days had been nothing but a series of rude awakenings for her.
Only a few hours ago, she’d had to kill Edgar to spare him from a life of suffering at Marcus’ hands. She had learned that Marcus was going to kill off all of the other royals simply because they were in his way. She’d had to sit there and see with her own eyes that Marcus considered his siblings to be mere obstacles, not people; obstacles that he was intent on removing, like they were just stones at his feet that he could just kick out of his way.
And what Eliza had done. That she had been the one to poison Alicia’s dragon and dishonor her in front of the entire Ishmarian court. That she was willing to help Marcus butcher her kin just so she could keep killing more people. And someday, even turn on Marcus himself. And that both of the treacherous royals planned to place all of the blame for the entire disaster squarely on her shoulders, for a reason that I wasn’t quite clear on yet. I wanted to think it went beyond simply “it was convenient”. Knowing Marcus, there had to be something else, some other reason why it had to be Alicia to take the fall.
She took a moment to lift her head and wipe her eyes. They were red and raw and shone way too bright in the moon’s light. I realized that… I felt sorry for her. As she was now, I had once been. I’d wanted to believe once, that there was a family waiting for me out there. Who would love and cherish me forever and ever. When I realized that that was never going to happen, the bloom came off that rose and I gave up on that dream. I’d been four at the time.
But Alicia had been born into a family. Tumultuous, rough and with an unhealthy amount of competitiveness, but a family nonetheless. She’d maintained the naive notion that they could be a family even after they had to turn on each other to determine the next ruler of Ishmar. She’d believed that right up until just now, when Marcus decided to twist the knife he’d plunged into his sister’s innocence for his own sick amusement.
She was younger than me. Not by much, but the fact remained. She hadn’t had the time to see that the world was a cruel place that laughed at the notion of fairness. She didn’t deserve to have her little bubble burst like this, though. Nobody did. It was her Father (and mother, I reflected bitterly) who should have let her down gently over the course of her teenage years. But she had to learn it all at once, at the hands of those who didn’t care, and with blood.
I didn’t feel like comparing anymore. I’d come to the realization that it was bad all over. Didn’t matter what a person’s circumstances were. If it could happen to me, it could happen to a princess. It could happen to knights. It could happen to lovestruck girls. And it could happen to mages, too.
I looked at Alicia one more time and stopped feeling pity for her. It felt…condescending, like it cheapened the weight of the things she’d been through. I half expected her to stand up and glare at me, to say, ‘How dare you take pity on me! I should tear your arm out of its socket!’ Instead, I decided that the two of us had finally found some common ground. It was tenuous, and it was a hard sell, but pain had a way of bringing people together sometimes. It was how Alverd and I had found our way after fleeing Marevar.
In time, maybe Alicia would find her own way forward, too.
More importantly, in the time that I had been feeling sorry for myself, I found a way out. I watched as a ray of moonlight from the window hovered over the bars of our cell, eventually settling over the lock. A small circle of light hovered over the locking mechanism, and as it dwindled away, I had an idea.
In one swift motion, I leapt to my feet. I ran over to the lock on the bars, and placed my hand over the mechanism. I whispered arcane words of focus as I squeezed my hand tighter over the lock. As I gripped the lock, a piercing pain shot through my head, and I could feel blood start to leak out my nose, but I kept at it. Slowly, the metal turned red. I released my grip on the lock; it quickly returned to its usual black color, but the metal now had a warped texture to it. My theory was correct.
I showed both Alicia and Alverd the lock. Alverd, impressed, patted my head in a way that didn’t feel condescending. Apparently, he too had been pondering possible escape, because he shared a plan for it with us after he was done examining the lock. I had to admit, his approval went a long way to boosting my morale. Alverd and I didn’t always see eye-to-eye, which was why it always filled me with strength when he approved of my actions.
“We will wait until morning, before the Tournament begins. Then, we’ll break out of this cell, grab our gear, and try to find the King. If we can explain what’s going on here, they could cancel the Tournament, find Marcus, and possibly stop him from poisoning all of your siblings’ dragons. It’s our only hope.”
Alicia looked helplessly at Alverd. In the end, she quietly nodded. However, she pulled me aside. “Kuro, hold a moment.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, a frilly white affair made of some material softer than I had ever felt in my life, and shoved it into my hand. I stared at her skeptically. She pointed to my nose and the crimson flood flowing from it. I wiped it frantically. I didn’t offer it back.
It took a moment for it to sink in that her gesture was one of kindness. She already knew that my actions at the duel could have cost me my life. Now I had risked it again to secure our escape. Giving me her handkerchief was a sign that she might be finally warming up to me. I folded the handkerchief and placed it into a pocket within my robe, smiling at her. She smiled back at me, albeit weakly.
She walked back to the bunk, laid down, and turned to face the wall. I watched as her tiny body shook periodically. It was obvious that she didn’t want anyone to see her cry. Even in the midst of all this, she was still trying to put on a strong front. She’d had to do that so much, it was practically a reflex by now. The moment when she’d given me her handkerchief was a shining example of the girl’s capacity for pure kindness. She’d built walls to protect herself from all the people in court who saw her as nothing but a nuisance. I reflected on the horrible impression I’d built of her when we first met. How poorly she’d treated Alverd. And I realized that all of that was connected to this, too. When Alverd had shown her concern and respect, she’d been suspicious of his intentions. She’d been wary because she’d been hurt before. But Alverd would never hurt her. She’d begun to let those walls down around him, to accept his gestures of chivalry and good will. Alverd had brought her out of her shell, and found the real person beneath.
He’d saved her, much like how he’d saved me.
He’d been right all along. And this time, I was gonna follow his example.
I took the thin blanket that had been provided for me and strode across the cell to where Alicia lay. Gingerly, I placed the blanket over the girl’s body. As I stepped away, Alverd looked at me with more approval before returning to his meditation.
It had taken me awhile, but I guess I was finally learning. Alicia was her own person, and judging her based on her family wasn’t fair. In fact, it seemed to me like being the black sheep in her family had turned out to be a good thing. It would still be a while before I would openly trust her, but after tonight I couldn’t doubt that she had her heart in the right place.
I huddled in a corner, pulling my arms into my robe to warm my body. Alverd volunteered to take the first watch; in a few hours he would wake me and I would allow him to sleep. When the sun rose, we would make our move.
Heh. I didn’t think I’d ever start to care so much about any of this. Gods knew I was jaded, but I never would have thought I’d care about something like this. I’d learned a long time ago that people who wore their hearts on their sleeves, like Alverd, and to an extent Alicia, always ended up being the ones who got manipulated or hurt by malicious people, like Marcus or Eliza.
That was why the Cardinal Rules of Being a Mercenary existed. Five years of dealing with the lowest of the lows had taught me more about the world and people than anything I’d read in a book. The Tenth Rule was the epitome of all my distrust, the lessons I’d learned the hard way: the only thing a mercenary can’t afford to have is a heart. Of all the rules I’d made, it was the one I adhered to the most. But I guessed it was time to add an Eleventh Rule.
Sometimes, rules are made to be broken.