by Amanda Churi
‘Everyone is taken soon enough…’
Daisy was a big piece of evidence to her words that were quickly unfolding to be true, but Lucy, who stormed across the stone bridge on her way to consult Clay about Koral’s gruesome death, reflected her ominous warning the strongest.
The ebony veins protruding from her skin pounded intensely, growing yet another centimeter in all directions to further extend its influence. She could not sort through her feelings; they were eating her alive and trying to throw her to the ground. She remained standing, though. She died once, and she knew the moment that she came back that she was not the same deep down. She was not weak… She would not be made out as a fool again by anyone.
Alone both internally and externally, Lucy made her way off of the bridge and through the abandoned streets of Phantome. She knew that the peasants were all gathered at the main square; Koral’s repulsive death had set the entire kingdom on high alert, along with Daisy’s kidnapping and Cecil’s surprising betrayal. They all wanted answers, and that was just something that Lucy did not know if she could provide at the moment. She would try her best to calm them down and give them reassurance that they would survive and prosper, but she was extremely uncomfortable with taking such a big step. She was usually in the shadows, behind the scenes of the works that went on in the small village, and now, while Kevin wallowed in his pity and struggled to find leverage, she would have to step up.
She reached the town square before she realized it. Lucy looked up from the ground, the civilians making a clear path for her to walk through. She could tell just how wary they were; their eyes were veiled by a curtain of distrust and prejudice directed towards her.
What, did word of me not protecting that brat spread about the town already?
The mobile fires held on their staffs were the only source of light for many. Both mortals and Returned, all of whom now bore the plagued veins in some form or another, were present, but the two groups did not mix together; a few souls defied this rule, of course, but there was clearly an undrawn line present.
She continued forward until she stood in the heart of the crowd. Clay was waiting for her; the peasants created a circle around him, Lucy, and Koral, who was lying face-down in the dirt as mosquitos and horseflies spun around her body.
“Queen de Vaux,” Clay acknowledged politely when Lucy stopped beside him, lightly bowing, as did many others. Most of the Returned, however, did not. They remained stiff, analyzing her with unreadable eyes.
“Clay,” Lucy addressed him back, curtseying.
“Is the king not coming?” he wondered.
Lucy shook her head. “He is not fit at the moment; he is grieving for Daisy.”
“And you aren’t?” a young child piped up. The mother immediately shushed her with the aggressive pull of an arm. Both were Returned.
The queen was able to keep her composed façade easily. She refused to play the part of someone who she no longer was. “No, I’m not,” she huffed, staring the child down. “I don’t need her anymore.”
The child gasped, her eyes bulging as she slowly stepped back into her mother’s arms. The mother looked stupefied as well, her face paling and eyes becoming distant. A strain on the air followed Lucy’s brutal answer, but she ignored it, looking back at Clay, who also seemed fazed by her words. “What did you want to discuss?” Lucy pressed, tired of people wasting her time.
Clay did not respond immediately, looking his queen over before directing his attention to Koral. “I do not like the looks of what I see…” he began ominously. “This atrocity reeks of the Smite.”
“Smite?” Lucy repeated, intrigued.
“Yes. I have heard word of its travels, but I did not believe it would reach our doorsteps since there had not yet been a case here.” He grunted in disappointment, shaking his head. “Apparently not…”
“What causes this?” Lucy urged on.
Clay shrugged. “No one knows. Some say it is God’s way of cleansing the impure; others say it is the Devil’s work—” He paused. “Witchcraft being the cause, specifically…”
Lucy chuckled under her breath, many taken back by her lightheartedness towards such a dire situation. Of course! The supernatural were behind yet another plot to destroy the innocent! When did they ever strive for good? Kevin was wrong. He was simply an oddity to the spiritual side of the spectrum; the supernatural was truly nothing but an evil creation. Oh, how young and naïve she was when she fell in love with him… How blind. Who was to say his so to speak “purity” would last? They were already starting to stand at odds with one another; maybe it was only a matter of time before what lay hidden in the depths of his heart arose from the chasm he had been born from.
“How is this funny…?” someone in the crowd asked incredulously. “Koral is dead, Queen de Vaux!”
Lucy quickly tried to compose herself. She shook her head and cleared her throat. “No, her death is not amusing,” she stated clearly. “I just find the circumstances to be a bit ironic.”
Heads turned to and fro, suspicious.
Lucy paid them no attention. She stared at Koral’s swollen body, subconsciously placing a hand on her gut. Maybe she allowed her bond to break with Daisy, and as much as she tried to fight it, she knew her link to Kevin was being severed as well. But the child inside of her… They were Lucy’s and Lucy’s alone—she was the one carrying them, nurturing them, and she would never deny them.
What if the Smite struck her child…? If it took away yet another chance of her being a great mother?
Unfortunately, the Smite won’t get that chance.
Lucy quickly looked up. No one seemed to be paying attention to her; the commoners were focused on one another, discussing the origins of such a sickness, but she knew that voice was directed at her.
Both confused and worried, Lucy looked about the circle. Whispers began to weave in between the nerves in her brain, overpowering her sense of hearing. They flocked her mind, joining together to create a roar of voices that she could not escape, and before she knew it, Lucy found herself breathing hard, turning every which way to pinpoint the strange presence.
A pocket of air in the distance suddenly shimmered blue, Lucy instinctively whipping her body towards it. No one else seemed to notice the brief burst of light nor hear the ravenous screams within that she did. They haunted her alone, and as she focused on the faintly distorted air which quickly settled, a terrible, agonizing pain struck her stomach.
Lucy suddenly found her upper body thrown forward, her hands pressing down on her knees in an attempt to keep her on her feet. She chomped down on her lip almost immediately, squinting as the dormant agony violently awoke to prove that it was the real ruler of her body.
“Queen de Vaux!” Clay cried, rushing to her aid and resting a hand atop her back. Being touched only made the queen cringe more; her body shuddered painfully as air struggled to reach her lungs, and sweat began to come forth like an ocean from her face.
Her followers backed away in shock, squealing and trying to keep their distance. The vessels on Lucy’s face pulsed uncontrollably, pumping pints of blood as fast as they could through her system, racking her body and causing her mind to blur. Kevin, she thought through the whispers which did not cease. Kevin. I… No. I need him. I need him…! Something is wrong!
“G-get Kevin,” she stuttered, her stomach releasing a massive roar as her intestines twisted and her uterus gave a strong, aggressive shove outward.
She could not hold her scream back at that moment. Her insides felt like they had just been torn open, a flash of white disrupting Lucy’s vision as her knees buckled and she was left kneeling on the ground.
The villagers shrieked, many fleeing. Clay immediately backed away, screaming for someone to fetch the king, who did not need to be reminded of their task as they bolted off down the street as fast as they possibly could, hoping to alert King de Vaux of the crisis before it was too late.
Lucy wrapped her arms around her stomach prote
ctively, tears bursting from her eyes. Her gut screamed for help, burning with fire as her body was ripped apart from the inside out.
The pain only intensified. Through her eyes distorted with tears and horror, the pocket of churning air suddenly became clear—two glaring blue eyes shooting back at her and absorbing her misery with greed.
“Y-you…!” Lucy coughed scornfully through her cries. She brought her head back down the moment she spoke, screaming as loud as she could. The heat and pressure building inside of her suddenly ruptured, a slimy, warm substance racing down her legs like a river and pooling around her body as the queen kneeled there, weakly shifting her terrified eyes to the growing lake of blood.
No… she thought with despair as her grip on reality quickly slipped away. Not… Again.
She was suddenly back in the small cottage that she had been in four years ago—a beautiful baby boy held in her arms, who cried as he took his first breaths. She had never felt more alive as she stared at the beautiful creation she had nurtured for over nine months, no words in the world able to describe the happiness she felt for those few precious minutes before it was all over for the both of them.
And now, she could just imagine the new baby swirling inside of her stomach—screaming, crying as it too lost its battle.
She fell forward, collapsing in her own sea of blood with not a physical feeling left in her body—only painful memories of the past and dreams of the future which now would never be more than that.
All while he looked on… Smiling as his blue eyes flashed green, dancing with ravenous joy as one more oppressor was eliminated—one more enemy out of the way that would allow him to fulfill his duties without further interruption.
Twenty-seven
Left Behind
“Laelia, I forbid you to go!”
It didn't matter what Griffin said at that point; Laelia pretended to not even notice him—in her eyes, he was nothing but a back stabber, and his very existence was something she no longer wished to acknowledge. Some friends drift apart, and some friendships gradually unravel; their relationship on all fronts, however, was incinerated.
A select few were allowed to follow Laelia to Justus’ workroom, and even though Laelia ignored Griffin to every extent, he was persistent and would not listen to her either, constantly trying to slam the true dangers of her quest down her throat.
“So, how exactly is this going to work?” Laelia asked as the door to Justus’ workshop closed behind us—those who followed Laelia as she prepared for her valiant endeavor were me, Mabel, Griffin, Justus, Sybil, Flye, and Pinion. Seek, Embry, and Virgil, along with a few other higher ranking members of the Encryption, went elsewhere to set up the communication waves and devices needed for the breach of the high and mighty empire.
“I’M TALKING TO YOU!” Griffin screamed at the top of his lungs, angry enough to shoot up and hit the ceiling.
“You guys really need to fix the electrical system in this room,” Laelia noted nonchalantly. “I swear to Jupiter, there’s an annoying buzz that just won’t stop pestering me.”
“Oh my God, come on!” Griffin flamed.
“Scourge, will you shut the hell up?” Pinion commanded, folding her arms and leaning back on the dark stone walls. “This is her decision.”
“She. Will. Die.”
“Laelia… I don’t want you to die…” Sybil whimpered, wobbling forward on her tiny legs as Justus went off into the shadows to fetch what he needed. She grabbed her leg, holding onto Laelia tightly and pressing her flat nose into her calf, sobbing.
Laelia looked down, scowling painfully. “Hush, little one,” she cooed, bending down and scooping our companion into her arms. She brushed the area behind Sybil’s ear with a finger, directing her chin towards Laelia so that their eyes locked. “I’m not going to die; I’m going to come back, alright?”
Sybil sniffled, holding her hands in front of her mouth and hiding the lower half of her face with her collapsed wings. “I want to go too.”
My eyes blew up. Laelia going was bad enough, but neither Mabel nor I tried to stop her simply because we knew what Pinion said was true; Laelia’s decision had already been made. I did not know if she would truly succeed; many said it was suicide, but would that be the case? We were all fighters within; we had overcome so many things that seemed impossible, but I knew the odds would gain height with each new detail of this mission. If the stars aligned, perhaps Laelia could make it, but Sybil? She was so young and little! What help would she be?
“Sybil, no,” Laelia told her gently.
“But I want to!” Sybil protested. “I want to help you! I don’t want you going alone!”
“Sybil…”
“NO.”
Laelia scoffed in disbelief, heatedly placing Sybil on the floor and staring at her with dark, stormy eyes. Sybil met her glare with the same ferocity, her ears erect beside her head and the skin over her teeth lifted in a snarl “I’m coming no matter what you say!”
Dumbfounded, Laelia looked to Pinion, who simply shrugged. “Normally, I’m very strict on what I allow my fighters to do,” she conceded, “but heading into the heart of the Proxez Empire is the most dangerous mission there is. I have only sent one group on such a risky task in the past, and Kaitlyn was the only one who escaped by the skin of her teeth. If she wants to help, I will not stop her; you need all the assistance you can get.”
“B-but I don’t want her to!” Laelia argued. “She’s too young!”
“So are you!” Griffin reasoned.
Flye spoke up instead. “Laelia, two sets of eyes are better than one—especially hers. If you want to live, you’re gonna need a lot of people watching your back.”
Sybil nodded smugly, agreeing one hundred percent with Flye’s words. Laelia looked at her doubtfully, but she did not speak.
“Alright, we only have a few,” Justus’ voice came from the darkness as he waddled back towards us from the gloom where he hoarded all of his contraptions, dragging a suit of high-tech armor with him. “It’s a little big, but this one will fit you best, I think.”
He held it up in front of Laelia so that she could get a good look at it. It was the suit of a Haxor, identical to all I had seen before—the only exception was that deadly electricity was not currently coursing through it. Laelia observed the translucent glass and metals that would now house her body until she either succeeded or fell. She looked down at Sybil, who continued to be stubborn and did not let her sight travel to anyone but Laelia.
“Do you have something similar for Sybil?” she croaked dryly. Sybil’s eyes immediately lit up, her snarl turning into a glorious smile.
Justus looked at the small lerial, fiddling with his thick lens as he tried to mathematically compute the volume of her body. “Well, definitely nothing her size,” he conceded, “but I bet that she could fit in that suit with you; I would just need to make a few adjustments.”
Sybil wiggled her hindquarters in victory, flying up onto Laelia’s shoulder and hugging her around the neck. Laelia forced herself to smile, but we all knew she didn’t want Sybil to come…
“Justus!” Griffin screamed. “You’re supporting this?!”
He looked a bit unsettled by Griffin’s harsh remark, but it did not stop him from speaking. “Griffin… I care for you, yes, but do not ever make me choose between you or my queen; she will always win.” His flighty eyes veered from his companion, Justus walking away and taking the suit with him.
Griffin was just about done with everything; I had never seen him so red.
“You’re sure that you can do this…?” Mabel asked with sincerity, approaching Laelia so that they squared one another off. They had never been friends exactly, merely acquaintances, but right now, their past was a clean slate. Laelia stared at Mabel with doubt for a moment before looking over at Sybil, who nodded confidently.
“I know I can,” Laelia finally said, smiling—a smile that took much more effort to make than it should have. “I’ve completed many
more dangerous missions than what is being asked.”
Mabel scoffed, sealing her eyes and shaking her head. “I don’t think intercepting supplies or even fighting in the Noble War compares.”
Laelia hesitated. “But my past more than suffices,” she mumbled.
Mabel cocked her head to the side. “Past?”
“It’s not important.” Laelia dismissed both her question and her presence, rotating until she and Pinion had molded their eyes into one. “When do I depart?”
“Whenever Justus and those in the control room are ready,” she replied. “…But do not be so eager to leave this sanctuary, Laelia. For all you know, you may not be coming back out. Spend some time with your friends—talk. Your quest should not begin until tomorrow night.”
“And when it does, we will teach them all a lesson!” Sybil squawked, eagerly flapping her arms.
“You will not teach them any lesson,” Pinion corrected sharply, taking a step closer to the sacrifices. Sybil immediately calmed down, tucking her chin into her neck with shame. “Your job is to gather what information you can; get the layout of their base and possibly uncover secrets. You do not get into any confrontations. You do not let them figure out who you are. You remain in the background at all times as mere mirages, silently collecting data until we order you to report back to base.”
“And how long will that be?” Griffin broke in.
“No more than a few days tops,” Pinion replied, refusing to look at him. “The longer that she is in the presence of the enemy, the higher the chance of her cover being blown.”
“It will not be,” Laelia stated confidently. “If there is one thing I’m good at, it’s being slick.”
“And bullheaded!” Griffin spat. “You’re crazy, Laelia! Get some sense, would you?”
“Says the idiot who would have gotten killed for thievery,” she ridiculed under her breath.
“Hey! That’s not fair; I did it to help win the war.”
“Oh, hush up… You stole from the moment your mother became senile, and you were out on your own; don’t blame her for everything.”