Revolutionary Veins

by Rey Balor

  The woman smiled, and the world erupted into flames.

  Chapter 28: The Citadel

  “The first words spoken:

  to give, to take away, to give again.”

  Death’s Lament, 28.10

  Claymore was currently the only Aegis allowed into the heart of the Citadel. The other Aegis patrolled outside, untrusted and under orders to ensure none approached the new throne room. In the face of treason and upheaval, the sparks of riots had been lit, but for as quickly as they had come into being, the reigning Queen of the Citadel worked equally as fast to smother them. Paranoia ran thick through her veins, and she demanded the Aegis to be on patrol at all times. They were not allowed into the city to bless citizens with visits from Death; they were to organize guards to follow rumors of revolution wherever they spurred. As a result, exhaustion in Claymore rose to match the Queen’s paranoia. The captain hadn’t slept since the Queen’s takeover, several days prior.

  Immediate changes met Claymore as they entered the throne room, and the heels of their shiny new boots clicked against the marble floor. The Queen of the Summer Isles wore a deep red, form fitted suit, and the length of her hair was wrapped around her neck as a scarf might be. Flecks of gold were twined around her fingers, and when she waved Claymore forward impatiently, the color sparkled. While the captain approached, she glanced them over approvingly. As instructed, they had changed into their new uniform before entering. Instead of their dented, rusted armor made from the remnants of old cities, they now wore a chest plate crafted from meteoric metals. Swirls of gray, black, and red covered the material. A gold ring rested on their thumb, and after the Queen had slipped it onto their finger, she went about shaving the stubble from Claymore’s head — a personal touch, an intimate gesture. Above it all, they wore the cloak gifted to them so long ago. It was the only thing they now possessed that felt worn in and comfortable.

  The room itself was just as different. Where only a few days prior there had stood five thrones to represent the five points of a star, there only stood one. Upon closer inspection, it was clear that it was comprised of bits and pieces from the others. From their ruins, creation was allowed. Sympathy stirred in Claymore, but they pushed it to the back of their mind. Now was not the time for doubts, not when the future was descending upon them all so quickly.

  Caliana Sekhon stood beside the Queen, and despite the bruises that still colored her skin from her time in prison, she had a lazy grin at the sight of the captain and waved a quick greeting with the weapon she carried — a white and brown spear with a crude tip. She wore simple, gray servant clothing which only seemed dimmer in comparison with the Queen. Claymore nodded back at her, unease growing.

  The final individual in the room was one that Claymore did not recognize. In front of the women stood a young man with both a clenched jaw and clenched fists. He wore the gray garb of the guards, but by the way he watched Caliana twirl the spear in her hands, it was clear the weapon had originally been his own. From a distance, Claymore could see it carried the marks of the wild, and she knew — knew in the same way one can discern the time of day by which patch of gray in the sky glows brighter — that he was not a true guard. He was a wolfling, an undesirable. His hair fell almost to his shoulders, stopping the captain from reading his lips as he spoke to the Queen, but they could tell that whatever it was he said, it was said with a passionate fervor.

  When Claymore crossed the length of the room, everyone fell silent, and the wolfling met them with nothing short of ferocity in his eyes. The Queen waved them forward to stand tall on the other side of her. Claymore complied, and it meant that the Queen was flanked by protector and genius, one on each side. Although she did not immediately relax, there was an added weight of confidence to her shoulders as she continued. This was her domain, after all, and there was no mistaking it with the pair around her.

  “My darling, it’s a pleasure that you’ve joined us. It seems our guest here views himself as an ambassador of sorts — Roam, he is apparently called,” the Queen said with her most amused smile. Claymore nodded to the man, but he did not waver an inch in his stance. “The wolflings want their freedom, it would appear, but now, he is far more content to call me insult after insult. How did he put it, sweet Machina?”

  “The little wolf said ‘e’d rather die improper today than live improper tomorrow. He also much didn’t care for you imprisonin’ ‘im the way you did. Called you some choice words I won’t say in present company, but still willing to look past it all.” Caliana’s voice was far more gentle than they had ever heard it in the past. “Can’t say I much blame ‘im on that one, Queen. The free people o’ the world couldn’t stand five queens, and they sure as ‘ell won’t stand one of ‘em. It’d be wise to listen to this one when the thing he’s offerin’ you is peace.”

  “The thing he is offering is to take half my world.” The claws of the Queen’s fingernails tapped against her throne, and she remained locked in silent battle with the man. “What shall the wolflings do if I refuse them? How many times have they come for us? How many times have they failed?”

  Caliana stiffened, and the smile was chased from her. “One of ‘em got away.”

  “One out of thousands — quite the record there,” the Queen returned.

  “There should have been more—”

  “There wasn’t.”

  Roam cleared his throat, and the balls of his fists loosened slightly. “You don’t want a war, and I don’t want to watch innocents die in unrighteous ways for your crimes. You set aside your pride and some land that doesn’t belong to any one soul to begin with, and we’ll have the chance to spare both of our people. I came here with that message, and you left me to suffer. That’s not important. I’m setting aside my pride too, just for that chance to live — just so that you’ll leave me, my spica, and the rest of us alone.” It was clear he had rehearsed this, although there was nothing brilliant about his speech. Truth simply flowed through him, for that was the luxury of the wolflings.76 Claymore bristled. Nothing was as simple as he suggested.

  “Your spica, you say? How full of surprises you are.” The Queen’s gaze sharpened. “Oh, my sweet, if it were that easy, do you honestly believe we would be having this conversation? You see, there is something that everyone in this world inherently thirsts for, and that is protection — but how can we be protected if we have nothing for our Aegis to shield us from? We take such a thing for granted, especially in times like these.” She crossed her legs, and the suit appeared far more like a red waterfall. “Peace can only come after war. Changes are nearing us, and I’m left with a very terrible dilemma: do I accept your terms and allow this pseudo-peace to continue, or do I grant my people a true peace?”

  “You’d wage war just to claim peace later on?” Illias asked incredulously.

  “I’d rage war to keep the spirit of my realm alive, to unite us on common ground. Without something to fight for, what do we become? Without the threat of death, how do we begin to appreciate life?” The Queen’s fingers stopped their tapping. Claymore’s ears burned with the woman’s words, uncertain how to take them. If it was their goal to protect, what did it mean to stand beside a Queen who wished for war? “We become something not worth the air we breathe.”

  “Is that your answer then?”

  Claymore counted their breath, trying to recall the five principles they had preached not that long ago. Since when had they failed to repeat them at the start of each day, as the sun broke across the horizon? Since when had they felt so lost in a world promised to be so new? It had been since the Queen kissed them.

  “I have something to say,” Claymore spoke, and the low rumble of their voice was enough to capture the group’s attention.

  “And the caged bird sings once more,” Caliana spoke, humor returned. “I had wondered how long the spell might last.” The sentiment caused a nervous twitch to enter Claymore’s stomach, as if they could feel the imagined bars beginning to close around them in a way
they never had before. Was it being so close to one who wreaked of freedom that made them see their own shackles? They had always reveled in the structure of rules, and the doubts made their head swim. No matter how hard they tried to push the emotion aside, they had to speak. The Queen had taught them rebellion; they could not stop.

  “I stand behind my Queen, my star, my life. She can see a place I cannot imagine, and in the end, it simply falls upon me to defend. It is the only thing I know how to do, and I know that one day, I shall perish an unholy death doing so — but in that unholiness, I will find salvation. These are not the preachings I was taught, but these are the preachings I believe.” They shifted their footing, uncomfortable with the weight of the attention they had gotten. “The world is on a balance. It is the first thing we are shown in the Aegis; reality is what we know, and it stands on the back of chaos. Should it break down, chaos will reign again. We are all aware of this, in our way or another, and that is why it is imperative we remain in balance as well.

  “Wolfling, you want land. What is land, when it is soaked red with blood and the salt from tears has ruined the soil? Queen, you want peace. What is peace, grown from the corpses of those who oppose you? Surely, surely, there can be some way to strike that balance — for if we are to fight, I will be the shield I was promised to be, and I will kill the wolf while he howls. But I don’t believe Death wants him yet.”

  It was not a threat, although Roam immediately took it as such. He crouched in preparation of an attack. Although his weapon had been taken from him, although they had tried to force him to submit, his entire form became defensive. With bent knees and tight fists, he took a step forward instead of back, forcing Claymore to remove their sword in retaliation. The Queen watched them idly, although it was clear she had larger concerns playing on her mind when she crooked a finger for Caliana to come forward to bade her a question.

  “Why did you call Claymore a caged bird?”

  “Ain’t it fuckin’ obvious, your worshipfulness?” Caliana snorted, but she kept the Queen and her guard in line of sight as she spoke. “Your little captain found me in the heights o’ the prison tower, and you know what they say about the panopticon: only a trueborn loyalist can find their way through that. Now, I’m not so sure they could find their way outta this throne room without your help. No judgement, just speakin’ truths.”

  The Queen hummed an answer.

  “‘Course, I’m sure there’s more to it than that,” she continued. “There’s always more to it than that.”

  “Did you know I have long considered you to be like a canary, Machina?” The woman blinked in confused answer to the Queen, but neither Roam nor Claymore moved. They were in a stalemate, waiting to see what would become of the two women before committing to a fight of their own. “Do you know what canaries were used for in the olden times? They were taken into the depths of the coal mines, and if they died, it was a signal to the rest that dangerous gases lurked there, my little bird. You have surveyed my walls for a long time. Perhaps it is time I placed you on top to see if they are ready to tumble, and you can truly fulfill your duty as my canary.”

  “I don’t know who you think you are,” Roam interrupted. His mouth twisted, and he did not blink as he looked towards the Queen. “And I don’t know what it is you plan. I don’t much care. But if the Erie-folk march here, those walls you built won’t make a damn difference. No matter what you might believe, I care about your people too, and I know how war works. A lot of innocents die. So before you go drawing conclusions and projecting your own culture onto mine, remember: we are not you. We keep to our word, and all we want is our home to be left alone and the freedom that’ll come from it. If you make us bring the war here, we’ll war in ways you’ve not seen before. More of us are united than ever before, led by a man without equal. It’ll be brutal, and it’ll end in nothing but tragedy. Do what you want with me, but that remains true.” The passion Claymore had glimpsed when entering the room returned. “You think I don’t understand who suffers first when a war begins? It was my people who were doing the suffering — for years now! This battle’s been raging for centuries for us, and from the glimpse I’ve gotten of the Citadel, I’ve begun to realize it’s been raging here too. It’s in subtle ways, and most choose to overlook it, but when royalty feels they can do as they wish to their subjects, when people live in fear, what else can you call it but war? It’s time to end it, for all our sakes.”

  “Choose your words with care—” Claymore warned, tightening their hold on Oblivion. It was a dangerous path he walked, but they found themself wanting to hear more.

  “Kill me if you’d like; the others will still come. I’ve got a spica who leads them, but if I tell her we’ve struck an agreement… The songs will sing of the day chained-folk stood in pride and wolves bowed their head in humility — when we were equals for a moment. I’ll beg if I must, so long as you hear. All you have to do give me some sort of answer.”

  The Queen stood from her throne. Leaning close to Claymore, she pressed a kiss against their cheek and draped her arm around their shoulders. With the touch, Claymore could feel the woman’s excitement pulsing. “I understand why you came, Roam, but plans have now changed. I have something in mind for you far greater than anything the wolflings could imagine. Such petty things they dream of — peace, freedom, war! Such petty things they limit themselves to! You see, I now realize that I lied. My problem extends far beyond the state of the Citadel. I have an experiment, and I’ll need your help. Only then can peace exist between us.” Removing herself from around the captain, she gently nudged them forward. “Take him to Caliana’s old cell. Make sure he has food and water. Get the Lady of the Pillared Lands; she’ll be needed. I deny your terms, wolfling, and I offer you a world beyond your own imaginings.”

  Claymore did not move for a tense moment. Over the Queen, they met Caliana’s gaze. She shook her head, eyes suddenly wide in fear, but this was Claymore’s own making. The moment passed, and they accepted the command.

  “As you say, Queen.” And then lower, so no others could hear, “…Alycia.”

  Chapter 29: The Wilds

  “The only will that may beat Death is birth itself.”

  Death’s Lament, 33.3

  ARISTA:

  When three of the Aegis approached him in his cell, Illias was ready. He bared his teeth, a feral growl ripping through his throat in reminiscence of the time he had been a wild boy. But who was the true wild animal: one who lived among the forest or those who locked others above it? If the Queen did not want peace, he’d give her war. He may have come as a diplomat, but he was prepared for this too. When the guards pried open his cell, he leaped for them without hesitation.

  He had only a second to take in the sight of the three. The woman carried a glaive, the point curved with blue intensity. One of the men grasped a short mace with jewels inlaid in the handle, and the other man held tightly to his warhammer. It didn’t matter they had every advantage. At the scent of freedom, Illias pounced, willing to die in this cage instead of by their hands. He offered a dozen prayers that Olena would forgive him for having dared to hope; he offered a dozen more that the stars would take him should he die, to stare down at the earth until Olena could join him in their constellation. Anything at all that he could give to the heart of the world, he offered it in that moment.

  The man with the mace swung it in a skillful arc, but Illias had learned to avoid the points of such weapons.77 He ducked low and swung hard, punching the man in his pleated armor. Bones cracked, and Illias let out a curse of pain, sidestepping out of the way of further harm. The woman jabbed forward with her glaive, slicing across his arm, but it was the man with the warhammer who stopped him.

  It did not take the use of his weapon. With the back of his hand, he slapped Illias with enough force that he fell back onto the ground. His body made a loud thud as he landed. The other two quickly grabbed his arms and forced him to his feet once more, but Illias continued his struggle
. He was feral, but he had two thoughts to carry him:

  At least it’s me and not her.

  At least if they end me, I’ll have died as I lived: a free man.

  They dragged him down the floors of the tower, down beneath the courtyard level, and down into an underground world. It was cold in this basement part of the prison, and he shivered without the warmth of his furs. The shadows from the hanging torches danced with glee at the group’s fast pace. Once he regained his footsteps, he walked steadily beside the guards. The three Aegis continued to glance at each other, unsettled but unwilling to stop. He would greet what they had in store for him with a raised head.

  The room was circular and lit only by the flicker of a few lanterns. The Queen stood beside two others, a woman who was slumped in a wheelchair and a serving girl who stood hunched, but she gestured to the only piece of furniture in the room — an ordinary, albeit crooked, chair. The Aegis sat Illias down and secured his wrists tightly behind him. Defiance shook him, vibrating every cell of his body, and the ropes cut into him as he struggled.

  “Have you ever had the pleasure of meeting the Lady of the Pillared Lands?” The Queen asked. At the title of lady, the woman in the wheelchair twitched. Bruises were darkening her cheek like shadows and the stump of her leg was wrapped in a blood-stained cloth, but she did not speak. “I don’t see why you would have. She’s rather elusive. Even before her fall, she spent most of her time in the ruins of the outer cities, scavenging for alcohol. It was a sad existence, but she has a particular skill set. I don’t know if she liked it, and I don’t particularly care. I care what we plan to utilize it for today.”

  The Lady of the Pillared Lands lifted her head. She flinched when the Queen waved her forward, and her hands grasped the wheels of her chair. She rolled herself closer to him. Dark glasses rested crookedly on her nose, and she seemed to compose herself as she shoved them upward. Gradually, she began to circle Illias. For every circle she made, her thumb brushed along the cut on his arm. After three circles, she paused in front of him. Her tongue flicked across her thumb, swallowing his blood as if she was the goddess he had made his offering to.