Kingdom of Mirrors and Roses

by A. W. Cross

  “But then how did you end up here? Surely they still need every soldier they can get?”

  He didn’t seem to hear her. “A few days after I turned seventeen, my unit was caught by surprise.”

  Beauty thought of all the portraits running along the Beast’s corridor. Had the same thing happened to them? Were any of them still alive?

  When he didn’t continue, she prompted him. “But you survived.”

  His laugh this time was brittle. “Barely. I was one of three, and the only one still alive.” He took a deep breath. “Most of my body was destroyed.”

  It hung between them. Most of my body was destroyed. Beauty’s heart picked up in a painful rhythm.

  “The only way they could save me was to make me a cyborg. Some days, I don’t know why they bothered. There was so little of me left.”

  Cybel. He’s sacrificed more than most.

  For Wakelight. For her. “I’m so—”

  “There’s so much I want to tell you, but if I do—” He exhaled heavily. “You can’t leave here. You could never go home.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay, what?”

  “Tell me, and I’ll stay.”

  “Beauty—”

  “I am home. I want to stay.” It was a surprise even to her. But something had shifted inside her, waking from a stupor to raise its face to the sun.

  There was silence from the other chair. Could he hear her heart pounding in her chest?

  “Hello?”

  “Are you sure? Even knowing what I am?”

  “I don’t care about that. I never should’ve run away. I just— What I saw… I admit, it was a shock. But I— It doesn’t matter.”

  “It doesn’t?” The hope in that one question was almost more than she could bear. How had she ever thought him a monster?

  “No. And I’m so sorry. I—”

  He held up a hand. “Beauty… The other things I need to tell you…there is so much more to my story—and yours.”

  “My story?”

  “Yes. But it will change everything. If you don’t want that, you need to leave here and never come back. I know it’s selfish. But you’re the only person who knows the truth about me, and I can’t live with half-truths any longer.”

  “Why me?”

  “Honestly? I don’t know. I…feel like you would understand.”

  “I can’t make you any promises, but whatever you have to tell me, I’ll at least listen.”

  “That’s all I ask.” He shifted in his chair and turned to her, his eyes glittering behind the mask.

  The mask. He didn’t need to wear it anymore, not in front of her. She didn’t want him to.

  “But first, take off the mask.”

  His hands stayed where they were, his fingers curling into the chair arms once more.

  She persisted. “Please. Take off your mask.”

  When he didn’t move, she stood, leaned over, and raised her hands to his face. He held his breath as she pulled off his hood. His pale hair fell forward and she smoothed it back. He tolerated her touch until she brushed the edge of the mask.

  “Beauty.” He wrapped his fingers around her wrist. She let him lower her hand. “Are you sure about this?”

  “Yes.”

  He took a deep breath and pressed the side of his temples, and after a soft click, the mask came away. The Beast dropped to the floor with a clatter, and the man sat before her, his eyes wary.

  Beauty couldn’t help herself. All she saw now was him. She traced her fingers over the side of his face, across the seam where man and metal came together. He closed his eyes. “Does it hurt?”

  “No.” His eyes flashed as he opened them, lit from within by a pale silver light.

  The eyes in the darkness. For an abomination, they were beautiful. “What’s your real name?”

  “Cillian.”

  It suited him.

  “I’m so glad you’re still here.” Cybel rolled into the room and Beauty stepped away from him, suddenly self-conscious. “I told him it was a lot to take in, that telling you everything was a terrible idea, but he was right about you.”

  Beauty looked sharply at Cillian. “What does that mean?”

  “Well, it’s a big deal finding out the world you live in is a lie, right? I’m glad, though. It’s been a terrible burden for Cillian to bear, and now—”

  “I haven’t told her everything yet, Cybel.” He pressed his lips together.

  “Oooh. I—”

  “What does she mean, Cillian? What lie?” Whatever it was, it must be big. And bad. The world you live in is a lie.

  He sighed. “This is part of what I wanted to tell you.”

  “Tell me now.” It had to be about the war. Nothing was more important than that.

  “I— I think you should rest first, Beauty. It can wait. I—”

  “I’ve rested enough.” In fact, I feel like I’ve been asleep my entire life. “What about the war? Are we losing?” The Vault will fall. And we’ll be overrun. We’ll—

  He shook his head once then crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s just it, Beauty. There is no war. Not anymore. The war ended five years ago.”

  9

  She swooned, staggering a little.

  “Beauty!” He lunged forward, catching her before she fell. Her eyes were closed. He shook her gently, but there was no response. Had she fainted? If she had, he wouldn’t be surprised. That was a perfectly fair reaction to finding out the cause you’d been devoting yourself to for most of your life didn’t exist.

  I should’ve prepared her more.

  Or maybe telling her anything had been a mistake. But it was too late now; he couldn’t take it back.

  “Sorry, Cillian.”

  “It’s okay, Cybel. She probably would’ve had the same reaction no matter what.”

  All they could do now was wait. He took a moment to study her. She looked so vulnerable and peaceful with her blanket tucked up under her arms, he didn’t want to rouse her. Soon enough, she would be awake, and then she would remember.

  But until then, he allowed himself to hope. She’d stayed. Wanted to stay. His relief was almost painful. She’d chosen to stay with him. And more than that…

  She wanted to see my face. She didn’t flinch. She…touched me.

  No one in The Vault had ever seen his true face before, let alone touched him. He’d waited so long for that day to come, and yet, it was bittersweet.

  There’s no going back now. What if it’s all too much? What if this has been a huge mistake?

  What if she wasn’t who he thought she was?

  A long lock of brown hair curled over her shoulder. His hands ached to touch it, a different hurt than the ghost-pain that normally haunted him, but no less intense. It had been years since he’d touched another person that way.

  Don’t forget yourself, Cillian. She might not still think of you as a monster, but that’s only a start. Don’t prove her wrong now by acting like one.

  His face still tingled where she’d touched him, and he closed his eyes again, savoring the moment. He would always remember the look on her face as she’d run her fingers through his hair, over his skin. She had seen him. And she hadn’t winced or looked away.

  She stirred, her forehead creasing as she opened her eyes. For a moment, she seemed confused then her eyes widened, and she sat upright, pushing the blanket to the floor. What if she’d changed her mind about staying? Was there anything he could say to change it back?

  No. Let her get her bearings and remember on her own.

  But impatience got the better of him. He’d waited for this moment too long. “Beauty, I—”

  Her head whipped around. “Where—” Her voice faded as her mind worked through the last few hours. Emotions crossed her face one after the other—confusion, fear, then a horror that made him want to stop time and fold her into his arms, holding her until the world passed into something new and painless.

  She remembered.

 
“It can’t be true.”

  “Which part?” He held his breath.

  “The war. I— It can’t be.”

  “Why not?” Let her work up to it.

  “Because then everything… I—” The struggle on her face was so clear. Would she faint again?

  He reached out to put his hand on her arm, to comfort her, then snatched it back. If she rejected him now, at this fragile beginning… “Let me tell you the whole story then you can decide. Please?”

  She nodded, but the look she gave him now was cautious, calculating.

  She’s trying to work out if I’m a madman. The Beast. Just be grateful she’s not screaming the roof down. But she was still looking at him without disgust, without fear of him. For now, that would have to be enough. He just had to tell her the truth. After that…

  He leaned back in his chair, trying to look nonthreatening. “The war lasted for four years altogether. And it only went on that long because we kept trying to negotiate, to find a peaceful resolution. But neither side would give even an inch to the other. So we kept fighting.”

  “I’m not surprised. Why would we ever think the invaders would negotiate with us?”

  “The day I was…injured was the last day of the war. We were making our final assault with everything we had. We knew we couldn’t win. By this time, the enemy had decimated our ranks. We had one desperate chance. And we lost.”

  “We lost the war?” Her voice was small.

  “Yes, Beauty. We lost. We fought so hard, but in the end, it wasn’t enough. We were overpowered.”

  “But then why haven’t they invaded The Vault? How is it still standing?”

  “There was no invasion. The enemy was our own.” He waited for it to sink in.

  “Our own… I don’t understand.”

  “Heartcrown forbade androids and human augmentation a long time ago. But not everyone agreed.”

  “But there was a vote—”

  “Yes. But was it legitimate? Who knows?” He flexed his metal hand. “Many didn’t think so. They wanted Heartcrown to progress, like the rest of the Republic. When they spoke out, they were…suppressed.”

  “We didn’t hear anything about that.”

  He arched an eyebrow at her. “It was before we were born. As far as we knew, it was unanimous. But history is easily rewritten.”

  “How—”

  “They hid in Heartcrown, building their army with help from others in the Republic.”

  She shook her head. “Didn’t the rest of the country notice when they…attacked us?”

  “Blackmoth was in turmoil then. There was very nearly a civil war. Armies were being built all over the place.” And yet, only rumors had reached the depths of Heartcrown.

  “The entire Blackmoth Republic was at war?”

  “Nearly, but a disaster stopped it before it could start.” He shrugged. “Then, when The Vault went up, it shrouded Wakelight from the outside world. The rebels took advantage of that.”

  “And now?”

  “And now, we’re part of a province called Foxwept. But we’re still hidden.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Us and all the other domed cities in Heartcrown. The rest of Foxwept don’t even know we exist.” And if Grace Alpha, the rebels’ new capital, had their way, no one ever would.

  “Our own people fought against us?” Her face was pale, her lips bloodless.

  “They weren’t our people. We persecuted them. We forced them to become their own people.”

  She frowned. “You sound…sympathetic.”

  “I wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for the ‘enemy.’ Who do you think made me a cyborg?”

  “Why did they save you?”

  “Well, it wasn’t from kindness, if that’s what you’re wondering. Our numbers were depleted, but so were theirs. They kept all survivors alive in any way they could.”

  “That must’ve been terrible for you.”

  “It was. On one hand, they destroyed everything I cared about. On the other, they allowed me to live. Selfish, right? I’m so damn grateful to be alive, even…like this.”

  “It’s not selfish.” Her voice was soft. “So how…how did they finally win?”

  “The plague.”

  “You mean the sleeping sickness? The one that killed almost everyone in The Vault?”

  Thousands of people had gone to sleep one night and never woke up. For weeks, their bodies had lingered, alive, unable to wake, until they’d eventually starved to death.

  “Yes. It was created in a lab as a biological weapon. They knew they would eventually win, but the toll was getting too high. They needed victory to be easier, faster. So they took drastic action.”

  “But it didn’t kill all of us.”

  “Some people were immune. They considered it a kind of selection process for the future.”

  She looked like she was going to throw up. Should he stop now? It was a lot to take in. When he’d first found out, it had almost been too much. He’d almost…

  But you didn’t. And this is no longer about you.

  Whatever she was feeling, she pushed it down. “Then what?”

  “Then it was over. The survivors started to rebuild only a few miles from here. They created a superior AI, Grace Alpha, and named their new capital after it. They updated laws, began a fresh era of civilization, one that embraced transhumanism and humanoid artificial intelligence.”

  “But what about us, in The Vault? And the other cities? I don’t understand. If the war is over, even if our side lost…why are we still here? We’re just civilians. The war had nothing to do with us.” Her brow creased again as she searched for an answer. “Or is Wakelight keeping them out? But then why do we… I don’t understand.”

  This was the worst part. The part he woke up to every day, the knowledge choking him like poison. “Wakelight isn’t keeping them out, Beauty. It’s keeping you in.”

  “But how could Wakelight let that happen? It’s supposed to protect us.”

  Her naïveté was like shrapnel to his heart. “Wakelight is the one who suggested it.”

  “I—”

  “Wakelight’s just a branch of the Grace Alpha AI. After the war ended, the citizens of Grace Alpha asked it what the best plan for the future would be. It advised them to start again. Integration, infrastructure, rebuilding— It would be incredibly time consuming and expensive. In the end, the people of Grace Alpha kept the future to themselves.”

  “So outside this city, there is no war?” She chewed on her lip. “But the burning we can smell, the sounds of bombing?”

  “All a construct of The Vault.”

  “And the promises they made to us? About when the war is over?”

  Cillian looked at his hands. “They make all kinds of promises.”

  “And everything we scavenge, grow, build?” Her questions were coming faster, the edge in her voice sharpening.

  “The capital city uses it to supply itself. All the food goes to their tables. The fabrics, their clothes…”

  “And the artifacts we risk our lives for?”

  “Knick-knacks for their fancy houses.”

  “But the people in City Hall, how much do they know? Have they all been lying to us this entire time?”

  “There’s nobody in City Hall, Beauty. Just Wakelight. Nobody’s been there for years.”

  “Wakelight abandoned us.” Her voice was dull.

  Had she finally understood? Finally accepted? Could it be that easy to convince her?

  It wasn’t. She shook her head. “No. That’s too… That’s just not possible. We can smell the land burning some days. We get updates on the progress of the war. We—” Her gaze fixed on him. “What about you? You’ve been here for as long as I can remember. The timeline doesn’t add up.”

  He shook his head. “The mask. I’m not the first Collector for this district. My predecessor was also a cyborg. It’s our way of paying for our survival.”

  “How long have you been back in The Vault?”
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  “Four years. Give or take.” When the Collector before him had died, Cillian had been sent back home. They’d asked him to betray his own— And he’d done it.

  “I’m sorry, but I just can’t believe you.” She rose slowly from her chair, keeping her eyes fixed on him, wary. “Am I a prisoner here?”

  “No, of course not. I told you that before. I gave you the option to leave.”

  “What if I said I wanted to leave now?”

  His heart plummeted. He didn’t want her to go. Not now, when he’d finally found someone to share his burden with, someone who’d seen his real face. “You can go. But Beauty—”

  “Even if I said I was going to tell everyone what you’ve just told me?”

  Was she testing him? Threatening him? “Do you think they would believe you?” He raised an eyebrow. “Or do you think they would hang you for heresy? Do you think the laws here are made by The Vault’s own citizens?”

  Or by others, encouraging fanaticism to do their dirty work for them?

  The color drained from her face. She knew the answer as well as he did.

  Be gentle. She still might stay. “Could you really go back, Beauty? Knowing what you now know?” he asked as calmly as possible, when all he wanted to do was grab her by the shoulders and shake her. If she left here, they might— And it would be his fault. He never should’ve brought her here.

  She hesitated. Did she believe him? Or was she just stalling for time, thinking of the best means to escape?

  She stopped edging away from him and lifted her chin. “Show me.”

  Show me.

  “Show you?” Wasn’t his body evidence enough?

  “Until I see it with my own eyes, I can’t believe you.” She squared her shoulders and glared at him.

  “I’ve told you everything. I—”

  “I’ve been told things my whole life,” she pointed out. “And now you’re telling me they’re not true. Until I can actually see the truth for myself, I can’t believe anything.” Her hands gripped the back of the chair. She wasn’t as poised as she pretended.

  “I know you think I’m telling you a story, or that this is some kind of sadistic game. But it’s not.” He flexed his cyborg hand. “I don’t know how else to prove it to you.”