Dorothea had to find her answer as soon as possible, but part of her was so scared of making another mistake, of being misled further or making things worse, that she had a hard time leaving Rhys’ place that morning. But she ate half the cake and did so anyways.
Before anything, she had to get back to Cerid’s. She crept out of without waking Rhys and rushed through the city without being bothered, but her luck ended when she was just outside the room she had in Cerid’s home.
Shark was tiptoeing down the hall at the same time as her from the direction of Cerid’s room. Like her, they wore the same clothes they had yesterday, coated in wrinkles. They locked eyes, and Shark grinned.
“Walk of shame, eh Thea? Never thought I’d see it. Course, I’m the same.”
“That’s not it,” she laughed. To even consider Rhys in that way was just awkward. Like Shark, he felt solidly more like an sibling than a potential lover.
“Ha, yeah, I know. Well I hope you had a good night at least. Cerid and I had such a nice date, and he even let me…” They laughed. “Never mind. He’d die if I told you.”
“I would too.” Dorothea smiled, shaking her head. She’d been skeptical when Shark had first told her about they and Cerid getting back together, but it seemed to be going well. All that mattered was that Shark was happy. “Is Cerid awake too?”
“Ohhh yeah he is.” For some reason, this only made Shark’s smile widen.
“Okay? Then I’ll see you both for breakfast.” And then to the library. She didn’t have much of a plan, but it was something. “Uh…” As she watched Shark move past, she frowned. “Are you all right?” The way they were walking was a little off-balance, as if they were in pain. But she’d fully healed them the day before yesterday, hadn’t she? So Shark had somehow gotten injured last night?
“Yuuup. Yup yup yup, yeah, no problem. Someday you’ll understand, my sweet summer child.” They waddled into their room, leaving Dorothea to choose to stop wondering.
She got to the dining room first after cleaning up, and someone already waited for her there. “Good morning, Ariana.”
“Hey.” She frowned, meeting Dorothea’s eyes for a second before her gaze darted away. “Feeling better?”
Dorothea smiled. In her own way, Ariana had warmed up to her. “Yes. Thank you. How are you?”
“Same as always.”
Even these mundane snippets felt like huge steps forward. Maybe Ariana would come to think of them as friends someday? Dorothea already thought of Cerid and her that way… Her circle was expanding.
“Um, can I run something by you?” she said as she sat.
“Whatever.” But there was mild interest in her eyes. Dorothea got the sense that Ariana had a hard time saying what she really felt.
“I think… Um, lately, I think that maybe a life without connections isn’t worth living at all. What do you think?” She’d always thought she’d only hurt others by becoming close to them, but that wasn’t the case in practice, was it? She and Shark, she and Rhys, hadn’t these things done at least a little bit of good? By making these connections, they saved and enriched each other.
Ariana shrugged. “Just do what you want.”
Dorothea laughed. That was simpler, yes. “Do you feel up to a trip to the library today?”
She frowned. “I don’t really like reading, but sure.”
“I’ll explain once the others get here.”
They soon did, and she noticed a healthy glow on Cerid’s face. After a quick meal and some pleasant idle chatter, she addressed him. “Can I ask you something?”
He gave her a shy smile. “Yes? What may I do for you?” It was clear he wanted her approval as Shark’s friend, but it must have been hard to go about it with both his dignity and the secret status of his relationship intact.
“Will you show me around the library?”
“Of course!” Cerid was beaming with a charming, boyish excitement. “I can direct you to the proper texts depending on your interests. I have read every book. Unless you would rather explore on your own, that is of course fine as well… Ahem.” Now he was looking embarrassed at himself.
Dorothea couldn’t help but smile. “Please. I’d appreciate your help.”
He grinned back. “Then let us go.”
As the group stood, Rhys came running in the doors. “Sorry I’m late, I…” He trailed off as he met Dorothea’s eyes across the room. “Er… Sorry I’m late,” he repeated.
“Library,” Ariana said curtly. “We’re going now. Come on.”
Cerid led the way to the second floor, going past his father’s office to arrive at a wide set of double doors. He heaved them open, then stood to the side to let the others enter first.
Shark whistled. “This room alone is over three times the size of my old apartment.” Ariana nodded along to their words, crossing her arms as if uncomfortable in the face of such lavishness.
“I have spent many evenings here by candlelight,” Cerid said fondly. “Now, Miss Dorothea, what are you interested in?’
Down to business. “Information about the Ghurians. Their culture, what they’re like. Then, about the relationship between Sacer and Ghuria historically. And more about Bittersweet Nightshade and the causes of the current war.”
Cerid was nodding. “It is good to be informed. I shall bring relevant texts to the back table. Please make yourselves comfortable.” He turned away, already muttering to himself.
Shark was grinning. “He’s a cool guy.”
Dorothea smiled. “Yes.” Shark really did like Cerid a lot, and seeing how happy they were made her like him too.
The remaining four walked to the back of the room, where light streaming in from large windows bathed the plush white carpet and varnished table in a pale glow. In a worn rocking chair sat an elderly man with a small girl in his lap. He smiled as she laughed and excitedly pointed out the things she liked best about the picture book in his hands, slowing his reading pace to a crawl.
When the girl noticed the group, she stopped talking to watch them warily. The man smiled and patted her shoulder.
“Good day,” he greeted. “I don’t believe we’ve all been formally introduced. I take most of my meals in my room, you see. My name is Cadby Creed.”
Shark smiled. “Cerid’s grandfather. He’s told me a bit about you.”
“Has he?” Cadby had Cerid’s same way of looking brighter when he was pleased due to the quiet exuberance of his emotions. “I could tell you about him too, if you like. Stories from his childhood.”
Shark grinned somewhat maniacally. “Oh yes please.”
“You shall not!” Cerid came barrelling out of the stacks, barely managing to balance the pile of books loaded in his arms long enough to slide them onto the table. “You most definitely shall not!” He blushed as he glanced at Shark. “Disregard that.”
“Oh, hello Cerid,” Cadby said pleasantly. “Excitable as ever, aren’t you?”
The young girl added to the slight chaos by leaping off her grandfather’s lap and dashing at Cerid. “Uncle!” she howled, crouching down midrun to take a flying leap towards him.
“Oh my.” Cerid bent with his arms outstretched and caught her. “How is my little lily today?” he asked, smiling at her delighted laughter as he spun her around.
The girl grinned. “Look.”
Cerid peered down at her. “You have lost another tooth, and you just pulled one yesterday. It seems you are falling apart!”
“I’m not! I feel just fine!”
He turned to the others. “Calla, these are my new friends, Shark and Miss Dorothea. You already know Mister Rhys and Miss Ariana. All, this is my niece, Calla.”
“Oh.” Calla directed her stare at Dorothea. “Are you gonna marry her, Uncle?”
“No!” he barked, then forced a smile. “I am not.”
“Oh.” Then she looked at Ariana. “She’s not s’posed to be here. Grandpa Cinder said people like her are no good.”
Cerid jumped, eyes widening. “That is not true, Calla. Miss Ariana is a friend.”
He made no move to contradict the wider implication, Dorothea noticed with a chill. She looked over to find Ariana’s eyes already on her.
“It’s fine,” she said quietly. “Children don’t always know any better.”
No, sometimes they didn’t. And then they grew up to be adults who made sure their own children didn’t know better either.
Cerid patted the girl’s head. “Calla, your uncle is very busy.” When she deflated with disappointment, he laughed gently. “But I promise to play later.”
“Can I dress you up? And you’ll make me tea and cookies?”
“Whatever you like.” He smiled as she bounded outside, yelling reminders of his binding promise on the way. “She is a good child. Er, sorry Grandfather, I seem to have made her forget you.”
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
“Truth be told, we’d already gone through that book so many times today it felt like my eyes were gonna bleed,” Cadby laughed. He put a hand on the cane beside his chair and tapped it. “By the way… Dorothea, is it? You’re the Atlin girl?”
“Yes sir.”
“Sorry if this is just an old man’s bothersome prying or if it brings up bad memories, but…” His eyes filled with a forlorn yet fond nostalgia. “Do you happen to know an Ophelia Atlin?”
Dorothea’s breath caught, and she lost all sensation. Then Shark’s hand was on her shoulder, and the moment of total shock passed. “Yes,” she replied in a daze. “Yes, she…was my mother.”
“Ah. I thought so.” The wrinkles around his eyes deepened as he sighed and gave her a gentle smile. “So she’s passed on. I’m so sorry.”
“I… Can I, may I please talk to you about her?” She bunched up the font of her dress in her hands, not knowing where to put her turbulent emotions.
“Want us to leave you alone, Thea?” Shark asked.
“No, it’s fine.” She didn’t care what was aired, only that she got to hear it. She pulled a chair in front of Cadby’s, heart racing. “How did you know my mother?”
“I met her on my travels. As head of the family before my son Cinder, I went to Sirpo to keep peaceful relations and reneogotiate trade agreements from time to time. But Ophelia… A sharp young lady! I thought I was a big shot, but phew. Fancy meeting her and having her tell me she didn’t give a hoot about Sacer’s nobility or who I was. No one had ever treated me so blunty.”
It was so different from Dorothea’s image. “How else would you describe her?”
“She was insistent. Sweet but quick-tempered and not afraid to make demands as she saw fit. Knew a bad deal when she saw one and always found a way to make it turn out in her favor. Protective of Sirpo above all else… I respected her.”
“So she was that fierce…” An rush of pride warmed Dorothea’s chest. Her mother had been a caring person, and now she could appreciate that instead of drowning in anger.
My visits were always enjoyable. Once her child was born though, she started delegating those meetings. I never saw her again after that, though she sent a few letters with well wishes.” He paused. “I’m sorry to ask this for my closure alone, but was her passing peaceful?”
“Yes,” Dorothea lied. “She wasn’t in pain. And there’s no need to apologize. Thank you for talking with me.”
Cadby laughed. “I’m always happy to gab about the past.”
Dorothea leaned forward, feeling breathless again. She’d come here for information, and now she had a direct source sitting right in front of her. “Then, if you can, would you mind telling me more about the Ghurians and the current war?”
Cadby fell into serious contemplation. When he spoke, each word was thoughtful and intensely focused. “Going back a few decades, there wasn’t as much vitriol in the air as there is now. Or maybe it was just quieter. But the difference between us was still clear.”
“What difference are you referring to?”
“The wealth, dear. Of the land, of our bodies, of it all. That’s why they call us pigs.”
“Oh.” Dorothea put a hand self-consciously to her stomach. “So it’s always been well-known that the Ghurians have less resources?”
“It’s their lands, see. Not as fertile as the ones here. Less crops, less wildlife. All in all, a harsher lot. They make do, but it makes them colder. It’s been that way since the moment the two factions were formed after the War of Seasons, where it all started.”
Right. Sacer had definitely gotten the better lot after they’d won the country’s first war. “In theory then, changing some of the circumstances created by previous treaties could also change the trend of continued conflict?” She ignored a scornful laugh from Ariana.
Cadby shook his head. “It’s never that easy. War’s never just about resources. It’s about fear, too. Regrets, grudges… Those things aren’t so easily changed.”
“Right. Sacer wants revenge for the Bittersweet Nightshade epidemic.” The threat of a magic that could wipe out entire cities in minutes wasn’t something a militaristic land like Sacer would ignore. Then again, like Rhys had said, Sacer also had such abilities within its ranks.
“Yes indeedy. See, what happened was… Hrm.” Cadby tapped his forehead to encourage thought. “It’s on the tip of my tongue now… Wait, no it’s not.”
Dorothea looked at the others only to find them just as blank as her. “Sorry, I’m confused. What are you trying to say?”
“Huh… Sorry, dear. I’m at the age where my memories aren’t as clear as they once were.” He sighed and sank into his chair. “I don’t even remember what I had for breakfast,” he laughed. That laugh turned feeble and awkward, his gaze averting, and Dorothea followed it to where Ariana sat completely still, scrutinizing him with narrow, hunting eyes.
“No, please don’t apologize,” Dorothea said slowly, flashing a smile to ease any tension. “Thank you for telling me everything you did.”
Cadby stood, putting a stabilizing hand against his back. “Nice chatting with you, but I believe I’ll be off. I’d like to be alone with my thoughts.”
“Thank you again. Take care.”
“You as well.” He lifted a hand in farewell before departing.
“So… Do any of you know what he could possibly have been talking about?” she asked the rest, eyebrows raised.
“Unfortunately, no.” Cerid frowned. “His memory could be playing tricks perhaps?”
“Please,” Ariana scoffed. “He’s old, not insane. Don’t be stupid.”
Dorothea nodded. “I think so too. Uh, not that you’re stupid Cerid, but I don’t feel like he was talking just for the sake of it. Ariana… What do you think it could be?”
“All’s fair in war. Who knows who did what.” She met Dorothea’s eyes for a beat before turning away to mutter, “Not that it matters.”
“Okay then…” Dorothea moved to the table and tugged the stack Cerid had unloaded on her closer, opening the top one and settling in for the long haul. She was seated between Shark and Rhys, Cerid and Ariana on the opposite side.
Shark peered over her shoulder. “What are you looking for, exactly?”
“Just educating myself.” She couldn’t explain her doubts to Shark, not until she was absolutely sure of everything.
The first text detailed every battle that had previously occurred between Sacer and Ghuria. A trend Dorothea noticed: the Ghurians were almost always the aggressors, but they rarely won the fights they started. The constant raids couldn’t be counted as successes, only temporary, bloody reprieves. Then, the treaties after every war seemed to make things worse and worse as they were punished for their aggression and murder. If that was the case, then…
“Why do they keep trying when they know they’re going to lose?” she wondered aloud.
“Is that a rhetorical question?” Cerid asked, looking up from his own text.
“If you want to answer, I’d appreciate your expertise.”
“Of course. You see, Ghurians have more of a natural inclination towards brutality.” He clasped his hands together and frowned down at them. “You witnessed it for yourself in both confrontations at Izozkia, no?”
But it obviously wasn’t that simplistic. The Ghurians had less to live on, so in a way they were always closer to death than the Sacerians were. What was real? Who had destroyed Sirpo, and what was her responsibility towards a people who had done terrible things time and time again but who didn’t seem to even have sufficient access to basic resources? Sitting around waiting for death wasn’t a better option than bloodshed. Maybe that was how Ariana had felt?
Both sides had so much rage. Both sides wanted revenge. Just saying everyone should try to get along for their own sakes would never work.
“I don’t get it,” she sighed, annoyed by her own ignorance.
Cerid nodded, taking her comment as a reply to him. “A predisposition to violence is a difficult thing to come to terms with.”
His earlier comments had made her squirm inside, but this tipped the scale. “You…honestly believe that.”
He seemed confused by her concern. “It is a truth proven by history’s trends.”
“Shark…? What do you think?”
They were mid-yawn. “Huh? Well, I can’t deny it. Sacerians don’t go around starting wars, we just win ‘em once the Ghurians drag us in.”
“But you’ve lived with Ghurians in Sirpo and never had a problem. And what about Ariana? She’s sitting right there as your ally, and you believe all of that stuff?”
Shark laughed. “Ariana’s not exactly the best example you could give, don’t you think?”
“Screw you too,” Ariana muttered.
She had a point. “Shark. Be serious.”
They caught the genuine anger creeping up in her tone. “I get what you’re saying, Thea, but those aren’t Ghurians. Once you’re a Sirpoan, you’re not a Sacerian or a Ghurian, and Ariana’s a Sacerian by all rights too. I mean, you can’t tell me after seeing them in action that those bastards aren’t scary. They kill without a second thought, and they like it.”
A chill raked up Dorothea’s spine. For the first time, she understood something about Shark. They had left the war behind at one point, but they had never stopped identifying with it. She had mistakenly conflated Shark leaving their family and homeland with them not believing in what their people believed in. With Shark not believing in this war or in slaughtering the Ghurians.
Something was terribly, terribly wrong here. Regardless of the truth behind Sirpo, regardless of what the Bittersweet Nightshade epidemic had taken, the Ghurians… They didn’t deserve their current reality, at least not the one as she currently understood it.
Cerid looked at her as earnestly as always. “May I say something else?”
She swallowed to keep her voice steady. “By all means.”
“I understand that not all of them are monstrous. It would be easier if it were that simple. We are all trying to protect something and accomplish our goals, and this creates a situation in which we must enter into conflict. That is all.”
If that always remained the case, how would the fighting ever stop? They were all the same on both sides, seeking their own version of justice with the will to take from someone else to get there.
But she had no right to criticize. She’d thought the same thing, hadn’t she? After Sirpo’s loss, she’d categorized them all as violent monsters. She’d gone right along with it, joining in the flow of hate and the means of spreading it physically through bloodshed. Gren Fall’s words came back to her again. Comforting oneself with thoughts of the enemy’s innocence while still intending to trample them was self-aggrandizing, nothing more.
“Can I ask you a question?” Dorothea looked into Cerid’s eyes as he nodded. “In your vision of the future, what’s happened to Ghuria?”
Cerid and Shark shared a glance. “Well,” Cerid said, “it would be best not to be made to worry about external threats when moving forward.”
“I understand.” The end goal of this battle, one she had agreed to so thoughtlessly, was essentially genocide. Gods, what had she done?
She hid one of her hands beneath the table, digging her nails in to push her emotions away with pain. She couldn’t show her doubt and fear here.
A hand tentatively touched hers beneath the table. Rhys didn’t look away from the book he had been reading silently the whole time, but she knew she wasn’t alone in her thoughts now. She took a breath and gave his hand a squeeze before returning to the task at hand.
Going back and forth between texts, this was the understanding she got: Ghurians were frequent instigators of conflict due to a comparative lack of privilege. However, due to their constant assaults, Sacerian culture had grown to be focused so heavily on its military might that the longer things went on, the more the Ghurians essentially doomed themselves.
On top of that, Ghurian raids on Sacerian lands were a weekly, sometimes daily threat even outside of wartime, making a permanent peace impossible. Lastly, the great threat of magics like Bittersweet Nightshade on the Ghurian side kept the Sacerians in constant fear. Under the thumb of that fear, they built themselves for the time they would need to fight back, and the Ghurians always made sure that time came. In this way, the cycle continued.
She came away with more questions. So the Sacerian’s fears had been realized with the epidemic. But what had caused the epidemic itself? If it had been a calculated attack as was the commonly accepted understanding, then why had Ghuria been impacted at all? Why was Sacer even still standing?
And another thing she’d not thought of until now. If Gren Fall was telling the truth and the Ghurians hadn’t destroyed Sirpo, then why had they attacked Iluna and aimed for her in the first place? Johanna had mentioned that Gren was in command, so if he’d ordered the attack that Cerid had thwarted that day in the first place, that put his story into question too. Where was the liar?
As she descended further into thoughts that only spawned more questions and confusion, she was oblivious of how much time passed.
“Thea?” Shark’s voice made her jump. “It’s been like, seven hours. Seven. That’s gross. Either way, we should get dinner.”
The others had breaked for lunch at some point, but she’d barely noticed. “Right…” She rubbed at her eyes, trying to ease out the ache that had settled behind them from concentrating for so long. Maybe moving around would help her organize her thoughts.
In something else that had become the new usual, her mind went back to Gren Fall in the end. His words stayed with her at every moment even if she wasn’t fully sure she could trust him. He’d said all these things to her, but what was it he wanted? She needed, no, wanted to understand him too. She wanted it deeply, and that intensity caught her off guard.
And just in case things spun completely out of control from now on… She needed to put her affairs in order.