by H M Angues
The high lady pats my arm, leaning in close to whisper something Rysen cannot hear. “You're right to keep him away from her,” she says quickly and quietly.
I hang back for a moment, Katarina off to attend to other matters, whatever they may be. Rysen doesn’t even look at me before closing Calla’s door behind him. Finally, after lingering for ten or so minutes, I slip into her apartments and am met by senseless bickering.
“I could have saved them if you hadn’t wasted my time with your jealous bullshit! There were still civilians in that building!”
“It's not like you could have done anything anyway! You failed today, not me, so stop blaming everything that everyone else did!”
Calla’s voice is a low snarl. “You should have stayed in Drakonis.”
“Both of you stop yelling!”
Their heads snap around to face me. Calla’s eyes are exhausted, as are Rysen’s.
But the latter is still boiling with rage. “Did he know you had other abilities? Because I sure as hell didn’t. All you do is keep secrets, Calla. Where does it end?”
I shake my head, collapsing on one of the foyer’s many plush armchairs. “No, I had no idea.” I cover my face with my hands. “Didn’t you just say you couldn’t let Cal get hurt? What do you call screaming in her face, Rysen?”
But his focus is on the emperor as he ignores my comment entirely. “Any more secrets you want to reveal?”
I hear her suck in a deep breath before saying, “You don’t get to raise your voice at me, Rysen, especially not now! Yes, I kept some things for you, but I have the right to do so, especially when such knowledge could potentially be used against me by a very powerful enemy!”
“So, what are you then?” I ask with sincerity. “Are you even still considered a Fireblood?” There are hybrids, though extremely rare, but never main elemental hybrids. As in, Oceanus, Fireblood, Aero and Terra. Those four are always alone, never paired.
She nods. “Primori throughout history have been born with more than one ability. Firebloods, Terras, Aeros and Oceanus are unique because no one is born with those as a second or third power. None of us have had hybrid abilities before.
“Yes, I’m still a Fireblood, but I’m also a Terra and a Metallurge. And... an Aero.”
Ryse opens his mouth to snap at her again but she silences him with a wave of her hand. “Please, Rysen. Please.”
Part of me hopes he doesn’t cease, that he continues to push her until there’s no turning back so that she’ll finally banish him from her life for good. But instead, my brother, sinks into one of the plush sofas, giving up. For now.
My mind wanders elsewhere, inside Calla’s. Her familiar scent fills my senses, and the fragrances begin to make sense to me. The salty smell of the ocean, a summer breeze, Eterra, fire, and now I notice a coppery tang. I can even hear the waves, the wind, the crackling of a campfire, and metal objects tapping against each other. She’s a whorl of even more intoxicating aromas and melodies, as I even detect the smells and sounds of a rainstorm, the thunder of lightning striking the ground, the whisper of darkness and shadows, shimmering light, twinkling stars...
I jolt upright, leaping to my feet. Katarina's foreshadowing words float through my head. She’s a lot more than that. It’s true, in more than one sense. Calla’s a lot more than a hybrid Primori. She has a lot more than a few abilities at her disposal.
She has all of them.
I explore her memories, ignoring her annoyed glare when she realizes that I’m in her head. I find the first time she ever found the fire in her—it came the most naturally to her, when she wasn’t even a year old. She had thrown a tantrum, lighting a set of drapes on fire. Her kind don’t display their abilities until they hit puberty. Calla can’t recall the memory due to something psychology calls infantile amnesia, but that doesn’t mean the memories don’t exist. I still find it there, hidden from her.
The rest, it seems, had appeared later in life, such as Terra and Aero surfacing in her preteen years. And, on the day that her father died, Jax set off that explosion that would have killed her too, if it weren’t for the impeccable timing of the appearance of the Metallurge side of her.
I dart from the room, not giving Cal or Rysen the chance to stop me or ask where I’m going.
∞∞∞
Katarina is roaming the gardens, admiring the well-tended flowers and shrubs and trees surrounding her, sprinkling water from a bowl in her hand on them occasionally. When she sees me, the aged high lady leads me to a small bench under a large willow.
“What is it, dear?” she implores.
“Calla. She’s... more than Fireblood,” I stumble over my words.
The old woman rolls her sea-colored eyes at me. “Well, aren’t you the observant one. Take you a while to figure that one out?”
I chuckle at her retort. I see so much of Calla in this woman, so much of her quick and flaming personality. “No, I mean she’s... all of it. Terra, Metallurge, Tempest, Lectric, Oceanus, Aero, Vitalis, Glacial—Calla is all of them, not just Fireblood.” Earth and metal, storm and lightning, water and air, healing, and ice. The emperor has all of mother nature, and more, in her delicate hands.
“And more, more that we have yet to see in Namari. Though I’m sure you’ve had dealings with some of them in Helkyn, as I had when I was a girl. My son, Augustus, was well-aware that she was the Phoenix of legend. He knew the moment Daiena fell pregnant.”
Though Primori are still an endangered race of human, their numbers are far greater in Helkyn, meaning the rare ones are seen there that have never been heard of in Namari: Incendium and Necro, Psychic and Anima, Aurora and Shade. Destruction, death, divinity, animals, light, and shadow.
Sanguinus.
There’s still only one of those around, and she’s hundreds of miles away, barricaded inside the manor I used to call home.
All those other abilities—Calla could master each and every one of them.
Sensing where my mind has wandered, Katarina adds, “She could learn to harness every single one, with time. But time is a luxury she doesn’t have right now.”
∞∞∞
I make my way back to Calla’s room, mind swimming with the latest information I’ve acquired, to find that she and Rysen have finally settled down. I consider explaining everything I’ve figured out to them both, but I’m interrupted by a sudden realization.
“Where’s Blade?” I ask.
Calla’s attention whips toward me. She scans the room, as if she somehow missed the burly young man’s presence. “Last I saw him...”
“He was with you,” Ryse finishes for her.
I don’t miss the accusation in his voice. “He got out of the building with Katarina. I don’t remember seeing him after that.”
Calla opens her mouth to speak, but is interrupted by a gentle knock at her door. Without waiting long enough for a reply, Valek steps inside. “The Concilium is here, Your Majesty. They wish to hold a session at once.”
“Very well,” she says. “Tell them I’m on my way.”
The grey-haired adviser nods, slipping back into the hallway. Calla vanishes into one of the rooms branching off her foyer for several minutes before emerging in fresh leggings and a clean shirt. Uncharacteristically casual attire for a meeting of the Concilium. She ties her curly hair into a hasty bun before walking briskly from the room.
“Don’t kill each other while I’m away,” she yells over her shoulder, and then she’s gone.
Chapter 20
Rysen
“We should see if we can do anything. About Blade,” Kainan mutters after Calla leaves.
“Shut up. Stop acting like you actually give a damn about Blade. Or Calla,” I snap.
His head snaps to me, green eyes sharp and sandy hair still coated in a nice layer of gray dust from the day’s events. “You know I do care about you, right? I always have. Besides, I didn't see you running back in for her.”
“At least I did what I was told. She t
old me to leave, so I did. You're the one that directly disobeyed her.” I fold my arms, sinking back against one of the cold marble walls. A gentle breeze blows in from the slightly open window to my right, rustling the flame-colored drapes as I remember those first few weeks I knew Calla, when we both lost Talon. When everything had been splendid between the two of us.
I fight the urge to strangle Kainan at my dead friend’s memory and the pain it caused Calla and me.
“You sure chose one hell of a time to finally listen. I'm glad you're safe, though.”
Silence falls between us and I feel the same energy befall the room that would when Father got angrily quiet. When a storm was brewing beneath his calm exterior, ready to demolish all that stood in his path. Only this time, instead of coming from our father, it's within me.
“I was relieved to see you, y’know. Alive. Healthy. Ramsey threatened to kill you every day I was with her. It was actually part of her morning routine: Wake up, eat breakfast, threaten to kill Kainan’s brother, go over war strategy, eat dinner, tell me she hates Calla, go to bed, repeat.”
I ignore his pathetic attempt at humor. “This is all your fault. I don’t know why Calla trusts you,” is all I say.
He sighs, slumping into an armchair. “I’m her mate, Ry. I don’t expect you to understand, but the least you could do is trust her. And she trusts me.”
I can’t help but wince at the dagger of pain I feel at the mention of the word mate.
I hate what Kainan has done to me. He may not have ever laid a hand on me the way Father had, but he and Mother stood idly by and let it go on. The amount of time my brother and father spent together was enough to rub it in my face that he was the favorite. I was just a punching bag. And now, he's bringing out the worst in me. All of this, my temper, yelling at Calla, and just being an asshole, comes from him. If it weren't for him, I'd be myself.
That day in her apartment... those words I said to her... My throat burns at the memory. I want to beat him again like I had not long after that. It will always be his fault.
Maybe it’s me. Maybe I just have too much of our father in me. Kainan looks like him, but I was broken by him. But whenever I start to blame myself, it overwhelms me. So, I blame him. Our mother. Anyone I reasonably can.
Calla’s mate or not, I don’t trust Kainan, and I never will.
“Is it really so hard to believe me? Come one, Ry, I’m your brother.”
My semi-calm demeanor snaps, the storm erupting from the once-serene clouds of my exterior. I march toward him, bracing my arms on either side of his chair, leaning so low over him that I can feel the heat of his frantic breath. “You stopped being my brother the day you walked out on me. I don’t give a rat’s ass about who or what you think you are, Kainan. I don’t trust you, and I sure as hell won’t let you anywhere near Calla, so long as I’m still breathing.”
Kainan may be older, but I’m bigger, stronger. Years of training in Talon’s court with the Guardsmen have shaped my body and build into that of a soldier. Our recent brawl was nothing—in a real fight, I’d put him on his ass for good. Kainan either doesn’t realize that fact, or he doesn’t care.
I step away before he can react and leave Calla's chambers.
∞∞∞
I slip quietly into the Hall of the Concilium. It isn’t hard to go unnoticed, what with all the shouting going on around me, voices angry and frustrated and full of apprehension echoing off the domed ceiling.
Calla’s standing at the head of the grand table, leaning on one hand and rubbing her temples with the other. The monarchs are frantic, spiraling into an extreme panic mode. She lets the chaos ensue for another minute or so before shouting, “That’s enough!”
Each of the regional rulers falls silent as her voice reverberates through the room. Silently, I make my way to the curved wall behind her and lean against the cold surface. Valek stands next to me, looking every bit as exhausted as the emperor.
“One at a time. You’re all giving me a terrible headache. Cesairan,” she looks to the king of Tiladen and his wife, “you mentioned rioting in your Province?”
“Yes. It’s a small group of people, but large enough to make noise and cause trouble. They’re rebel sympathizers, and they’ve been trying to rally the people to their cause. There have been riots in the smaller neighborhoods, but nothing the Imperial Marines Security Forces haven’t been able to handle. And now, attacking an emperor’s funeral? It’s a bold move, and a risky one. It’s a miracle they weren’t caught, what with the entire nation watching.”
“A miracle indeed,” Calla mutters, quiet words laced with rage. Only Valek and I catch them, and we exchange wary glances. I don't miss the accusatory glare she sends my way. She still puts blame on me, then, for being a distraction. “Unless anyone else has issues they’d like to bring forward, I suggest we move on to the part of this discussion you were all screaming at each other over: How do we handle this?” she adds as she sweeps the room, amber eyes landing on each individual monarch in turn.
Queen Adrienne speaks up. “We offer Roran independence. That’s what they want, right? To be their own sovereign nation? Why don’t we just give it to them?”
The room erupts with shouts of both dissent and agreement, though mostly the former, until Calla silences them all a second time.
“No,” she says. The imperial tone of her voice is daring anyone to argue with her. “Namari is made of seven Provinces and the Capital, not six. Besides, what leads you to believe that giving in will make them stop? If we give them the opportunity to secede from the empire, they’ll simply keep attacking us, only as a foreign enemy rather than a domestic one. It’s a sign of weakness, to the rebels and to Helkyn, to give in to terrorists’ demands. The Uprising has made it clear that they will not stop until the empire itself has been dissolved.”
Queen Adrienne sinks into her chair. No one dares question or disagree with Calla. She’s right on every aspect, and they all know it.
“Then what do you propose we do, Emperor?” King Tiber, a tall and dark-skinned Mordan, asks as he stands from his chair.
There’s a pause, and then, “We declare civil war. Any people who do not wish to be part of the rebellion will be granted asylum in any of the other Provinces. Otherwise, all Rorani, native or not, will be considered hostiles. We withdraw remaining military forces that Ramsey hasn’t yet gained control of and open up our bases and stations to the Underground for training and go from there. It will allow our troops in the Borderlands to keep their focus on the Great War.” Another long and heavy pause from her. “We will win this war. Both wars.”
A thick, uninterrupted silence hangs over everyone in the room. Then, each of the six monarchs stands and crosses their right fist over their heart. They bow their heads to Calla in unison. A unanimous vote in favor of her proposal.
When they are all seated once more, Cesairan speaks up. “What of the funeral? And your coronation ceremony?”
“Both the funeral and coronation ceremony are to be postponed indefinitely, or at least until things have settled down and there’s no longer the threat of another attack.”
King Cesairan nods in approval. Calla stands and announces, “This session of the Concilium is adjourned.” Details, paperwork, and official declarations of war will be drafted in private chambers and offices.
When the monarchs and consorts and advisers are gone, and it’s just the two of us alone, Calla turns to look at me for just a moment. She opens her mouth to say something, but ultimately decides against it.
“I’m sorry. For being an ass. But I can’t promise that things will change. Not as long as he’s still around.”
She lets out a sigh of what I assume to be frustration. “He’s not going anywhere, Rysen.”
I run a hand through my hair. “Just promise me one thing,” I say.
“What?”
“Don’t trust Kainan. And before we start yelling at each other again, just hear me out. I don’t trust him. I know, I kno
w, the Twin Flames bullshit and what not... but how much can you actually trust something that we really know nothing about? How do you know he’s not just showing you the things in his head that he wants you to see?”
I can see the wheels turning in her mind as she thinks it over, and I add, “Just... don’t trust him. Not entirely, at least. Be cautious, Calla. Please.” I try my best to plead with my eyes, even though she’s hardly even looking at me.
She finally nods. “Okay,” she says. “I’ll be careful. But, only if you promise me one thing, too.”
“And what would that be?”
“Go back to Drakonis. I sent them an evacuation order this morning. Ramsey finally moved on Wraike with the Imperial Armed Forces in Roran at her side, and the city is hers. Fayette needs help, since her father is occupied. And…”
I step closer to her, the heat from her body warming my skin. “And?”
“I need space. To think. All of this with you and Kainan, and now Blade…” Her voice breaks over his name. “It’s just too much for me right now. I can’t be around you both at the same time.”
That isn’t even close to what I was hoping for. My rage, mostly toward Kainan, resurfaces, boiling just beneath my skin. But I keep it in check. At least until she turns and leaves. Only once she’s out of sight do I let it out, sending a fist into the marble wall.
∞∞∞
Blade
Darinthe Manor is cold.
Being escorted through the extravagant hallways feels like walking through a tomb. While the structure itself is beautiful, all signs of people living here, all things that would make a place like this an actual home, have been stripped from the walls. Only bare, necessary furniture decorates the manor.
The throne room must have been magnificent, once. Now it’s stone-gray, with nothing more than a simple throne in the center, raised on a dais. No electricity runs through this place; the only sources of light are the sconces and candle chandeliers placed throughout.
Blood-red eyes glare down at me from that throne as I’m forced to approach by the two guards dragging me by my elbows. Ramsey smiles, her flawless dark skin interrupted by blinding white teeth.