The Reformation

by Garggie Talukdar

  Clawing the hands away from her midsection, Blare was released from the hold on her captor and swam. Swam for her life because she was close, and she’d be damned if she failed now.

  Don’t breathe in, don’t breathe… water came flooding in through her mouth and nostrils, and that’s’ when Blare Defalco realized the true meaning of panic. Limbs flailing, she tried to get up. Up. Up.

  The light was getting really bright now.

  …

  “Is she alright?”

  Jax’s eyes were heavy. “She’ll live. But she made the mission. And with the exception of Wesley Hunter, who quit, and Xanthene Holland who left, because Myriad Amherst died of Scorchen a few hours ago. At least, Blare would’ve made it, if she didn’t say…”

  “What did she say?”

  …

  She got pulled in. She didn’t remember much aside from retching her guts out, and pure indescribable misery.

  “Miss Defalco? Are you alright?” The king had bright blue eyes, shining with concern. Concern for her? A convict, a selfish girl who couldn’t bear the weight of responsibility? The water must be going to her head.

  Unable to form any words, she nodded numbly, chest still heaving in and out.

  “You made it.”

  “I did,” she managed, posing the statement more like a question than a fact, though she knew it to be true. She was alive. She was alive. “But Jax, listen to me.”

  His crouched figure was still, staring at her intently. Blare opened her mouth to force out the words, but she was getting tired.

  “Blare? Blare! Hey, stay with me; I don’t know if it’s safe for you to fall asleep. Medic!” he had rushed beside her just in time to catch her collapsing body. “You’re alright.”

  Her eyes were fluttering shut, but she weakly said those words that she knew she had to say, the shocked look on Jax’s face the last thing she saw before the world went black.

  …

  “Jax? What did she say?”

  He looked down, unable to meet anyone’s eye. “She quit.”

  Eleven

  Z WAS sure Jax was out to kill him. The king had called them all (a grand total of 4 people) down to the ballroom with a solemn look on his face. That was the first hint that something that would forever mess up his life was going to happen.

  Jax eyed them will something akin to an apology, though Z could see something similar to curiosity peer out behind those blue eyes of his. “Congratulations; you made it this far.” (which now seemed to be Jax’s catch-phrase)

  None of them made a move, intently watching the king. Before, Z would have never guessed that Jax would do anything too extreme, that the selection process was the hardest part. But really, it wasn’t. They had gotten put in more compromising situations, and Z had watched some people crack. Immediately, Z remembered the image of Blare, red hair limp from water, choking and sputtering on the shoreline.

  Z could see that haunted look in her eyes. She couldn’t take it anymore. There were medics and people to jump in and intervene should anything go wrong, but this simulation was so real. She was so terrified, and part of Z was too. But it wasn’t his life that flashed before his eyes, so why the hell was he? He knew it was all a game of luck. That the fact it was Blare’s oxygen tank that was malfunctioning, and not his, was purely a stroke of luck.

  Truth be told, all the rest of the people here were probably much more suited to the job than the mechanic. Blare wouldn’t have been so shaken if it was Z how was in her place. It was all just luck, luck, luck. And Z had this sinking feeling that this same luck, was going to bail on him really soon.

  And all of his true strength (or lack thereof), would just land straight on his head, and he’d wind up dead.

  But back to the new completely terrifying task in front of him.

  “I have one more task for you all, and I promise those who remain will not ever have to face such trials again. At least not on purpose.”

  Z groaned loudly. “And I have a feeling that this isn’t an optional task, is it?” Jax’s laugh was anything but a satisfactory response, but it was the only one Z got.

  “Please tell me that it doesn’t have to do with the guns that are behind you.” Z felt his body tense at Celine’s words, as he peered past Jax to see—true enough—a tray filled with identical guns.

  “I would hate to lie to you,” Jax pulled the tray from the counter with ease, and he tossed one to each of the remaining candidates.

  Z fumbled with his, trying to get a proper grasp on the foreign object. He noticed that Jan and Paris had theirs in ready position almost immediately, and Celine soon followed. How do they know this stuff so well?

  “Don’t worry, Z,” Jax called out, causing Z to immediately worry, “It’s sometimes better not to be too acquainted with a gun; bloodlust isn’t always the answer.” Jan looked as if he was going to disagree, but bit his tongue before any words would come out; a look of contorted, horribly-disguised disagreement on his face.

  “Who knows, maybe I’m just adept with a sword rather than anything else,” Z said, and a quick grin found its place on the king’s face.

  “Admirable, truly. I’ll keep an eye on you and your blades, Z.” Composing himself, the king turned so he was facing everyone, and something graver crept into his tone. “This is the final stage, as I said, but it will definitely be the hardest. Each person has a gun in their hand, as you all know. But what you do not know, is whose gun is loaded.”

  “Russian Roulette,” Paris stated, a wicked gleam in her right eye shining louder than the confidence in her voice.

  “Of a sort, yes, Avelapoulos,” Z caught the slight curl of her mouth at the use of her last name, “but what you have to do, is make a decision. Don’t raise your gun yet, but within a minute, I will ask you to point your gun at one person in this room. You must be prepared to shoot, prepared to kill if yours is the loaded gun.”

  Z felt the blood flush out of his face, a lump growing in his throat, constricting the air coming in through his mouth’s shallow breaths. “What?”

  “Yes, Z. Your gun may be loaded, but you still have to be prepared to pull that trigger on somebody. Your minute of consideration starts, now.”

  Z scanned the room, to see if there were any medics on site. None. He cast a look at Celine out of the corner of his eye, and he already knew who she was going to shoot at.

  January.

  He looked ready to do the same; they both held certain distaste for each other since day one, but distaste to the point of murder? Z felt sick, being forced into such a position. Why would Jax make them do this? Revealing deep dark secrets? Piece of cake. Deep-sea diving? Not preferable, but alright.

  Murdering one person in this room?

  Nuh-uh.

  Z was probably over-reacting, he knew the odds of having the loaded gun, but having any odd at all, was what was making his heart skip a beat.

  “10 seconds. Please ready your guns.” His heartbeat was crashing up against his ribcage, racing to be free. And with a steadying breath, he knew his choice.

  He couldn’t shoot anyone in this room. “Point.”

  The cold barrel of his gun found a place on his temple. And he heard a slight gasp from Celine, who was holding her gun with both hands, shaking slightly, but boldly pointing it at Jan nonetheless. Jan was holding the gun up to her much more confidently, but still didn’t look particularly pleased. And Paris was- huddled over her gun?

  A crease formed between Jax’s dark brows as he looked concerned in the direction of the huddled girl. Her dark hair was hanging in front of her, acting as a sort of a curtain. Jax’s clear voice rang out, “Avelapoulo-”

  It all happened so fast.

  Twelve

  Z DIDN’T know what happened.

  Z just remembered hearing two gunshots, echoing loudly, and blood. He didn’t know who shot first. According to Celine, it was Paris who whipped out her gun and shot with confidence right at the king’s chest.

  The
worst part was that it met its mark.

  Or would have, if Jax didn’t have his startlingly fast reflexes. That part, Z remembered. The king moved at lightning speed, and before Paris could react, he swiftly pulled out his own gun (like where did that even come from?) and shot with that same nonchalance at Paris.

  Z couldn’t help but wonder how the king managed to do it. It wasn’t that he thought that Jax didn’t know this stuff, (okay, maybe he did) but not to this degree. Paris was a crack shot and was probably the fastest shooter that Z had ever seen. But somehow, Jax moved faster.

  “I’ve hit neither bone nor artery. But I guarantee you that the bullet that I just put through your leg will hurt like hell,” Jax had coldly informed her, with a seriousness that Z could never speculate Jax to possess.

  Paris just clutched her bleeding leg in shock, and hissed through her clenched teeth, “Rot in hell.”

  “Paris Avelapoulos, you are arrested for high treason of conspiracy against the royal house.”

  Z just stared in open mouthed shock, which he suspected was also the reaction of Celine and Jan.

  “There’s a problem with that, Your Majesty,” Z weakly informed Jax. “Who exactly arrests her?”

  “That’s when you’re wrong, Z. Canteron, Kajen; please make sure that Miss Avelapoulos makes her way into our most secure cell. Releasing her is not a good option for your career right now.”

  Two armed men came out from god-knows-where, approaching Paris with caution and intention. Clearly, Jax knew something that Z and the others, did not. After getting her hands secured behind her back, they shoved her roughly forward, and she let out a hiss of pain, as her wounded leg scraped up against the ground, and Z saw Jax cringe. Z couldn’t help a wince himself, as the door slammed shut behind Paris for, hopefully, the last time ever. The wince was more out of the fact that this entire experience was real, rather than the harsh sound.

  But aside from the echoing of the doors, the room was silent. It was so quick and rapid, Z didn’t know what he just saw. The others were probably in the same situation, or at least unable to read into the reasons of why things went down the way that they did.

  “Did they shoot Paris?” Celine asked Jax numbly, referring to the guards that appeared out of nowhere. The king shook his head before straightening out his hair.

  “No, it wasn’t Canteron or Kajen. That was purely of my own hand. The late King Calix made sure that I was proficient in weapons training and handling. Being the head of the monarch can be dangerous.”

  “God, what’s happening?” Z muttered, unashamedly taking a seat on the floor, scooting away from the blood on the ground where Paris was only seconds ago.

  Jax sighed, looking very tired. “I don’t even know. My life was just attempted, and you are all witnesses of what happened, and- you know what Z? I think I might join you on the ground.”

  And that’s how the king, a mechanic, an argumentative girl, and a cold blond, ended up sitting on the floor together, not too far from blood-splatters from a (according to Jax’s speculation) rebel.

  Apparently, Jax was aware of the rising rebellions that were starting up all over the world and suspected that Paris was a head of one.

  “How did you know?” Celine immediately questioned, her head cocked to the side. “And if you did, why did you leave her in the group?”

  Jax let out a sigh that was too exhausted for someone of his age, leaning back into the palms of his hands, legs stretched out in front of him. “Areya found some concerning information regarding her, but I wasn’t sure until just now, Celine. And besides, this gave you a taste of what might come ahead.”

  “I’m not liking the sound of this, Majesty,” Z stated, to which Jax managed a weak smile.

  “It’s only fair if you know why you’re going through all of this, so I’ll make it as quick and concise as possible. My father was a kind king, but he wasn’t-”

  “A substantial one?” Jan supplied, a grim look contorting his features.

  “Remember January, you are in his palace right now,” Jax warned bitingly, and for the second time today, Z was surprised by the range of emotions outside of sheepish, jovial, and concern that Jax had within him. Shaking his head, Jax continued on, removing the bite in his tone. “It’s true. My father didn’t do much to help the country, and while he might have sustained it, he was far from improving it. He was a pacifist, and did everything to avoid conflict, including his negligence to the Razed.”

  “The Razed? You mean that they’re real? People talk about them like they’re myths,” Z piped up.

  “They are. I already told you guys the other day, I’m doing this to re-build NNR, and I need an elite team to do it. But I need to focus on the Razed. I am fully aware of the rebel groups that have been springing up at an alarming pace. You need to know just what you’re up against. Affiliation to the crown means that the people who are after me, will come after you as well, if you let them,” Jax paused for a moment, letting that sink in. “As lovely as it was, sitting here with you, I have to attend to some kingly duties. Now that you are fully aware of the threat that lies in front of you, I offer you a chance to walk away. Leave tonight, without any repercussions. But if you want to do this and make a change, meet me in the dining hall tomorrow morning.”

  With a nod, Jax stood up and left, leaving the three to their own devices.

  And that’s how Z found himself sitting in his room, Celine lying on his bed.

  “Cel, what exactly are the Razed?”

  “Not fictitious, I assure you. You know about WWIII, right?”

  “Of course.”

  “Well, during the battle, the Immortales stormed NNR, and sent cities ablaze. Major places in this world perished, Z. In a matter of days, pearls of this world became relics,”

  “That’s- whoa.”

  “Heavy?” Celine asked, all too knowingly. Z nodded, still surprised at this new information. Celine propped herself up on her elbows, looking grimly at Z. “That’s why I constantly protest for the Razed. People need to know what has changed this world forever. It’s important that we know the things that have kept from us, that we refuse to acknowledge. We’re living in dark times, Z. And we can’t ignore that.”

  “The shadow of a Golden Age.”

  “What was that?”

  “The shadow of a Golden Age. There always has to be a time when the world is in shadows; otherwise, how would we ever rise to glory?”

  “That’s one way to put it. So, is this the rise or is this the fall?” Z didn’t know how to answer that one, but luckily, Celine didn’t mean for it to be answered. She stood up, walking over to his door. “Long day ahead of us, eh?”

  “Yeah. What if one of us doesn’t make it, Celine?”

  “That’s impossible. That ca-”

  “Just consider it. What if the impossible happens? What then?”

  She looked concerned, head tilted to the side. “Z. You aren’t thinking about giving up, are you?”

  “No, no. It’s just that-” my insecurities are taking control of me- “nothing. Just promise to keep in touch no matter what happens?”

  “Don’t be stupid Z-” no one will ever willingly do that- “of course I’ll keep in touch. Though, of course, if I don’t make it, I won’t have a home, so…”

  “Now you’re being the stupid one. Have you seen the way King Jax looks at you? He’ll never kick you out-”

  “Okay, I’m leaving,”

  Z smirked as the door slammed shut behind her.

  Thirteen

  JANUARY wanted to possibly murder the new girl more than Celine, which was a very concerning fact.

  It had only been a day since Paris had been escorted to prison, which left them with almost no candidates. Nox had left out of shame, Xan had left because her friend had passed on and there was no other reason to stay; Blare quit when she almost died with her malfunctioning tank; and Wes, well god knows why he left. The only ones left were Z, Celine, Paris, and himself.


  Then yesterday, when Jax had probably put the hardest task upon them, Paris had turned her gun on Jax and shot, and most probably would have killed the king if he didn’t have startlingly fast reflexes.

  January didn’t like the king, and Jax likewise didn’t particularly favour him, but Jan had grown respect for the young ruler’s fighting abilities. Jan had come into the job believing that the king would be an ignorant fool unaware of what happened outside of his palace gates, and he would have no idea how to hold a gun, let alone fire one. Jan still believed him to be an ignorant fool, but the king was quite aware of the things that happened outside of his beloved home, and he most certainly knew how to fire a gun. Everyone present was amazed at his marksmanship.

  He had shot Paris in the leg, and the bullet had gone in cleanly, like his intentions. He informed her coldly that he had struck neither bone nor artery, and he was true to his word. The medics had confirmed a steady and fast recovery, one that would be spent in prison. Apparently, Paris Avelapoulos was part of one of those rebellions that had been gaining a concerning amount of power and following lately.

  This morning was quiet, to say the least, and Jan suspected that half of it came from the fact that the remaining candidates were in reverence of Jax and what happened yesterday, and the other half in growing tension of what would happen today. Jax might just decide that the remaining candidates would become the team, or maybe today would be the day he picked off the last person. Despite his stance on how he viewed the king, Jan wanted to be on this team. Something about it stood out to him, and he knew that if today was the day that he might leave, he would be devastated.

  “Well, despite the ongoing investigation on the security and the discussion if this project will continue, I’m going to blatantly ignore Areya’s concerns and tell you what I have discussed and decided upon.” Jax said, rather tactlessly.

  “Now as much as I have a respect for your need of flair and dramatics, I would prefer if you just spat it out, because you’re killing me,” Z had spoken, perhaps out of turn, but it seemed that the table lost some of its tension upon his words. Z would say what he and everyone else felt, though Jan wouldn’t exactly word it in the way that Z had.