by Leon Logos
“Not as hard as getting into yours,” she retorted.
“You’re probably right. Any other questions?”
“Yeah. What now? How are you going to get out of this? And please, I’m warning you now, don’t try and take me back. Because I’m staying.”
“You made that clear enough already,” he said. “As for my plans, I don’t even know. I guess only time will tell…”
“You don’t have time,” she implored. “What if they execute you two days from now? Or even tomorrow?”
“Then game over,” said Kyler insouciantly. “Whatever.”
His incorrigible apathy angered her. It wasn’t bravery Kyler was displaying, but sheer indifference. Not a care in the world. There was no fear of death or everlasting imprisonment. Kyler lowered his head, tapping the musty ground listlessly with his index finger. Despite his precocious maturity, he resembled an ordinary child to her. And he was; at the end of the day, he was an adolescent. Sixteen years old.
“Good luck,” said Serenity. “Do you know who your cellmates are?”
“One of them is always asleep, the other doesn’t speak at all. He doesn’t move at all, either,” said Kyler, glancing at the other two prisoners.
“Sixto, do you recognize them?” she asked him.
“Hm? Sorry, are you two finished?” said Sixto snidely.
“What’s wrong?” she frowned.
“Nothing at all,” he said. “Just wondering if you’re done ignoring me.”
“I’m sorry,” she apologized sincerely. “You’re right; he’s been rude to you, and I haven’t done anything to stop it. Can I repeat the question?”
“Nah, I heard you,” said Sixto, satisfied. “I don’t know them.”
“Oh, okay. What about—”
Her heart dropped to her stomach. The door upstairs suddenly swung open violently, followed by heavy footsteps and a familiar voice. She exchanged alarmed looks with Sixto. Instinctively, they sprinted to the back of the cellblock and took cover behind the junk. She didn’t make eye contact with Kyler, but she surmised he would’ve signaled her to run anyway.
“It took them too long to tell me, I’m disappointed!” said Bastion, his self-important voice pervading the cellblock.
Serenity and Sixto peered over a crate adjoined by a barrel, watching as Bastion and two guards pounded into the block. They stopped by Kyler’s cell. Bastion glared at him directly. It was impossible to see Kyler from here. Serenity had forgotten that Bastion was a Councilman now. But it seemed that Desmos and Kyler’s capture had been kept secret from him.
“Where’s the other one?” Bastion demanded. “Your brother?!”
“You’re asking me?” Kyler’s monotonous voice responded.
“He was relocated,” one of the guards replied.
“Where?” Bastion asked aggressively.
Was it really going to be this easy finding Desmos’s location?
“He was relocated for special interrogation,” the guard said. “I must not disclose the exact whereabouts openly. You must inquire the Council.”
To her dismay, Bastion acquiesced, not questioning further. He turned back to Kyler, giving him his full and undivided attention. From the looks of it, Bastion was trying too hard to be intimidating. It wouldn’t work; Kyler wouldn’t get intimidated by anyone.
“I expected more,” said Bastion smugly. “A kid? Thought you’d be a bit bigger, or at least look a bit more intimidating.”
She expected a response from Kyler, but none came.
“Don’t speak much, do you?” Bastion smirked. “I see you’ve already been interrogated. Guards, anything interesting come out of his mouth?”
“The kid is tougher than he looks,” said one of the guards. “Not a word came out. Gunther must’ve trained him to take a beating.”
“You didn’t try hard enough!” Bastion growled, suddenly fierce.
“I don’t disagree, but we felt it unnecessary to continue,” the guard continued placidly. “The bigger one is the one we need. He’s the oldest.”
“Be that as it may,” said Bastion, “you wouldn’t want to pass up an opportunity to play with a Carlisle!”
“He’s all yours to roughen up,” the other guard said. “As long as you keep him alive, do what you want.”
“Their executions are nigh, we best start promptly,” Bastion nodded, rolling up his sleeves. “Open the cell. Now.”
One of the guards took out a keychain holding half-a-dozen jangling keys. He opened the cell door and stepped aside as Bastion stepped in, the expression on his face etched with murderous felicity.
“Let’s go,” Serenity whispered, retreating to the trapdoor. It was only three yards from their position. “I don’t need to see this…”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
There was no doubt in her mind that Bastion did not obtain any satisfaction. She knew Kyler handled the beating with ease, not refusing to submit or yield to Bastion’s provocations. But at the same time, she couldn’t help but speculate how things turned out.
The journey back to the main house living quarters went smoothly. They passed unnoticed as they ventured to the other side of the estate, past the now-guarded courtyard. Sixto was a stealth master; all she had to do was follow his lead. He seemed to know the patterning of the patrols, where they would be at each hour of the day or night. They did not speak to each other at throughout the trip. She was too preoccupied in her thoughts and getting back to her chamber to have a casual conversation. Furthermore, Sixto was too busy directing the stealth operation.
They reached the living quarter's grand staircase and stole up the steps. The realization that they made it back attenuated her anxiety. Instead of returning to his chamber, Sixto followed her back into hers. He shut the door as she collapsed onto her bed. The lights remained off. Moonlight streamed through the window, and the emerald draped curtains. It was the only source of light present.
“I never knew Bastion was such a sadist,” she commented, taking off her fur jacket. Now that she was inside, it was a bit stifling with it on.
“He’s not,” Sixto hastened to say. “It’s just that he despises the Carlisles more than anyone. Of course, he’d be excited to beat up one.”
Serenity said nothing. Sixto held a profound respect for Bastion. She wasn’t going to argue with him. All she knew was that her dislike of Bastion had doubled—no, tripled in intensity after tonight. She understood Sixto’s point; it was logical and potentially warranted Bastion’s intentions.
“Something tells me you’re not entirely truthful to me,” said Sixto, taking a seat in the armchair by the fireplace.
“About what?”
“Your relationship with the Carlisles,” said Sixto seriously. “I figured you’d hate them, and practically beg for their execution. Not this guy, from the looks of it. It felt like he was your baby brother.”
“Huh?” she gaped. “‘Baby brother’? You’re joking. Definitely not.”
“He’s an arrogant swine,” Sixto remarked.
“No, he’s not,” she defended. “He doesn’t like you. That’s why he comes off that way. But in reality, he’s kinda shy. You know, reserved?”
“You see?! You’re defending him!” “Kyler’s not like the others,” she admitted in candor.
“Seriously. The others for sure, but I never hated him.”
“You’re telling me he had no contribution or involvement in making your life fraught with misery?” Sixto asked doubtfully.
“For the most part, no,” she said. “When it got too bad for me, he’d help me out. He saved my life, too, not too long ago. Though, I’ve had to be saved by almost all my brothers at some points in my life.”
“It seems like he barely cares about you,” said Sixto.
“He always has,” she assented. “And about everything, not just me. He doesn’t like to show emotion, and he never opens up. That’s just who he is.”
“Whatever,” Sixto capitulated. “But I hope you got
what you wanted. Because once Bastion’s done with him, he’s not going to be the same. He’ll be beaten senseless; then, the execution comes after.”
“He’s a strong kid, so I’m not that worried,” she said honestly.
Sixto scoffed out loud in hilarity.
“You either underestimate Bastion or overestimate Kylie,” he grinned. “Nobody’s tougher than Bastion. He’s gonna thrash him like a dog.”
A prickle of concern swept over her. Maybe he was right. Bastion was supposedly the mightiest of the Aurelian soldiers.
“Now you’re looking glum,” Sixto said pointedly. “Woah, do you care about him that much? Serenity, we’re not doing this again, in case you haven’t realized already.”
“What, what?” she said in alarm.
“You heard me,” Sixto said assertively. “It’s too risky. And I agreed to help you. You got to talk with him once again.”
“We were interrupted again; I still need more time,” she denied.
“And even if you were to see him again, I doubt he’d even be able to speak,” Sixto smirked. “He’d be either catatonic or comatose!”
He found this statement to be particularly humorous, chuckling mirthfully at the mere thought of it. He must’ve been visualizing it. Serenity shut her mouth, realizing it would be improper to solicit his help again. He did what she had requested him to do. Asking him to sneak out with her again was too much to ask. There was too much risk involved, and Sixto obviously had now developed a strong enmity with Kyler. It was only to be expected, and Aurelian and a Carlisle were incompatible. Reconciliation between the two families was impossible and virtually inconceivable.
She checked the time and was startled to learn how late it was: 4:02 in the morning, and they were still wide awake. She possessed no desire or inclination to go to sleep. Not for a while.
Sixto watched her with a silent and subtle expression of worry.
“Serenity?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m going to bed,” he said stiffly.
“Okay. Goodnight, then.”
“But don’t do anything stupid. Without asking me first.”
“I need your permission to do something stupid?”
“Anything that sounds stupid, yeah. Just for your safety.”
“Sure…”
Sixto crossed over to the door. Before he left, he muttered “Goodnight,” and gave her a cursory glance over his shoulder.
She didn’t look at him, staring at the ceiling. Mulling over her thoughts was like entering a dream state; she became unaware and oblivious to her external surroundings. Kyler predominated her thoughts for the rest of the night, how he would end up after Bastion was done with him, when she could speak to him again, and how long he had left to live—along with Desmos. The notion of them being executed was petrifying. It was certainly a conundrum why. Why now that she was harboring these feelings for her former family. Even when she strained to recall the abysmal days and nights spent with them, she failed to dissolve the concern she was carrying. It was unprecedently frustrating feeling this way towards people she was supposed to—people she did despise. Desmos. Garen. Cackle. Agno. Gunther. But not necessarily Kyler. Never Kyler.
Serenity snuggled into her bed covers after kicking off her boots, nestling against her preeminently comfy memory foam mattress, which had been enticing her to repose. She was too lazy to change into her nightgown or pajamas. It was well beyond her standard bedtime anyway. The remembrance of this induced her slumber.
Christmas Eve morning proffered no joy for her. The fact that the 25th of December would arrive in under twenty-four hours elated everybody in the family but her. Initially, she had been genuinely anticipating the holiday and was ready to relish in the gaiety when the day came. The night prior had changed these intentions against her will. She attempted to exhilarate herself and get in the Christmas spirit by accompanying Lily to the courtyard after breakfast, watching as workers decorated the colossal Christmas tree towering overhead them.
“Wait till they’re finished!” Lily raved. “At night, you’ll be stunned!”
“I can’t wait,” she said, not truthful at all.
Lily detected the absence of enthusiasm in her voice perceptively.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Why do you ask?”
Lily shrugged, proceeding to infer how much the tree cost to buy and how tall it was. Destiny joined them and answered that it was forty feet high. Serenity looked at her ambivalently, perturbed with her relationship with Bastion. She held no acid feelings with Destiny, but she sought to comprehend what she saw in Bastion. As long as the two of them were a pair, Serenity could never become close with Destiny. The first signs of snow manifested; traces of snowflakes descended gracefully from the sky. She caught some with her hands. It was wet.
She spent the afternoon playing ‘Monopoly’ with Lyla, Sixto, and Lily in Lily’s chambers. Both Sixto and Lyla were unexpected participants in the game. Serenity would’ve expected Lyla’s standoffish demeanor to inhibit her from playing with them, and Sixto was usually too busy with training or patrol duty to join them in their recreational activities. Both Serenity and Sixto exchanged looks occasionally, neither acknowledging the events that transpired the previous night. Of course, they couldn’t with Lyla and Lily in the vicinity. Serenity had never played Monopoly before, but it wasn’t difficult to learn and catch up with the others. However, she did learn of the protracted length of a single game. It was nearly impossible to win. After two hours, Sixto took the victory after having bankrupted them all.
“Worth the wait,” he said gleefully.
“You mad, Lyla?”
“Yeah, right,” Lyla said, throwing the two dice at him. “This game is purely luck, not skill. Congrats, you won for the first time.”
“Somebody’s mad,” Sixto said smugly. “Serenity, you got pretty close.”
“Beginner’s luck,” she droned, unentertained overall.
“Wow, and I’m the usually the boring one,” Lyla riposted, listlessly adjusting her black bangs.
“Are you sick, Serenity?” Lily asked.
“No, I’m just tired,” she replied. “I slept a bit late last night…”
“Yeah, I’m sure,” Lyla remarked slyly, smirking blatantly.
“Hey, Lyla, how many presents do you think you’re getting this year?” Lily asked her older sister. “Guess.”
“Not nearly as many as you’re getting,” said Lyla. “My estimate is: half the number of your mountain of gifts.”
“And I’m getting way less than that,” Sixto cut in.
“Yeah, because nobody loves you,” Lyla gibed.
“I don’t disagree. In comparison to you princesses, I’m a duck.”
“Serenity, how about you?” Lily invited her into the conversation.
“Me?” she asked blankly.
“How many do you think you’re getting?”
“Zero?” Serenity said frankly. “I’m getting presents?”
“No, you’re getting vegetables,” Lyla said sassily. “Of course!”
She hadn’t expected presents at all. Not once in her life had she received presents; birthday gifts and Christmas presents were nonexistent. Furthermore, as a new member of the family, she believed herself undeserving of gifts at this juncture of her membership. Wasn’t it too early?
“Well, probably less than Sixto,” she inferred.
“No way, you actually might get more than Lyla!” Sixto said.
“Or just as many as Lily,” Lyla added. “Just kidding. Nobody gets more presents than our little angel on Christmas.”
She did not deny this. It was obvious how adored Lily was in the family, and consequently, how spoiled. Her congeniality and simpatico nature were recognizable upon first glance. A bright, innocent child that nobody would think of hurting. Perhaps, not even Gunther?
Serenity felt entirely dubious towards receiving parents. It was probable Dorian and Alistair might gift her so
mething, but that was about it. Nobody else in the family was acquainted with her enough even to care to purchase her a present, much less bother thinking about what to get her. There wasn’t much Serenity liked, neither was there much she disliked. Most teenagers were acquisitive, thirsting with materialistic desires. But she was far from the conventional teenager, denied a typical childhood from the start.
“It was fun, but I’ll be taking my leave,” said Lyla, rising from the floor. “Have fun, children. Don’t stay up too late.”
“Don’t wait for us,” Sixto quipped at her patronizing tone.
“Why is she leaving so early?” Lily grumbled.
“Be happy she even showed up,” Sixto said, playing with the dice.
The rest of the day before dinner constituted her strolling around the property. Throughout her perambulation, she walked past the numerous guests that had arrived for the holiday, both new and familiar. It looked like the Aurelian staff had doubled in number, bustling about in dutiful strides. The residence truly did resemble a small town as of now. She crossed paths with Dorian, who was always delighted to see her. He was wearing a resplendent blazer and a striped vest.
“Promenading the premises, I see? How are you?”
“Fantastic. You?”
“Splendid, as always!” Dorian beamed. “I hope you’re ready for tonight, and especially tomorrow! We’ve got a newsworthy announcement to make on Christmas night, during dining.”
“Does it concern me?” she asked meekly, hoping she didn’t come off as self-important or self-centered.
“Not you directly, but I’m sure the news will invigorate you. Well, I must be off. Carry on with your sauntering!”
She didn’t think too much about the announcement. Dorian had a penchant for exaggerating things; the “news” was probably something trivial she would not care for. There were more pressing matters that required her thoughts and attention.
“Serenity, come help me with this?” Destiny asked politely.
She obliged, stepping into Destiny’s chambers to assist her. If she knew what Destiny needed assistance for beforehand, she wouldn’t have entered. Destiny was in the midst of picking out outfits for Bastion, who was punctiliously observing himself in the mirror in a scarlet-clad suit. Bastion glanced at her from the mirror, a crease forming on his forehead. There was a pile of sumptuous clothing on Destiny’s bed, evidently for Bastion.