But he remembered the conversation he has with Fey, seated on her too soft bed, apprehensive of her barbaric of a plan. How he made her promise, her eyes locked with his, that no matter what, the Elixir was off limits. Now he had a chance to honour that promise, and who was he to refuse that chance?
He nodded and managed the slightest of smiles. “I’ll keep the secret to my grave.”
…
The next week flew by in a frenzy. Despite all of their efforts, Jax would go to the signing that noon, this time held in Elix. It was the only outcome, Jan knew that, but it still tasted so bitter. No matter what, the second that Jax set foot on Elix, he would return to NNR with the Treaty signed.
And if not, then heavens help them, they would be fighting an impossible war.
They all wallowed in misery that day, September the 11th, because ever since joining the Strategists they all had found out more about the cruel race that they were giving all power to, as well as the repercussions of opting out of the signing. And as Jax’s departure time grew closer, the hopelessness in the air grew more poignant. They could do nothing.
“Why do they do it every 3 years anyway? Shouldn’t one with each new ruler be enough?” Celine grumbled, fiddling with the sleeves of her dress.
“To remind us that there’s no use in resisting,” Jan shot back, running his knuckles over his eyes.
“That’s stupid,” Stel eloquently added to the conversation, looking particularly brooding.
“Well, it bloody works,” Z muttered angrily, tinkering with some random gears dejectedly.
The four of them were standing in the throne room, watching as some servants dragged suitcases out to the boat that Jax was to board, the royal crest engraved on them glinting tauntingly by the high sun filtered in through the open doors.
“We failed,” Stel said, her voice small. “We can’t stop this.”
“We never were able to,” January sighed, admitting that much out loud. The considered adding but at least we have some edge on them because of you, but Jan wasn’t that big of a person yet. No matter how he saw that having the Elixir was a risky but highly beneficial move, he couldn’t publicly budge from his opinion. He couldn’t give that power to Stel Hathaway.
He wasn’t that strong yet.
So, he instead settled on a grim smile, staring at the sliver of light that snuck its way into the room, faintly hearing the sound of water crashing against the shore. They could do nothing.
“We haven’t failed.” Celine’s voice cut him from his reveries, her hazel eyes unflinching. “We just haven’t succeeded yet. We have time.”
Jan bit his tongue to prevent himself from saying anything, but for once, his body refused to obey him. “Hate to break it to you, Hollingsworth, but we really don’t,” Now 3 pairs of dark eyes were trained on him. “We never have had time on our side.”
Celine said nothing to that, and with a shock, Jan realized how similar to Fey’s final letter he sounded. Time was never on my side, but we somehow found common ground—enough that it had the goodness to let me meet you all. So even though time stole my last breaths away, don’t curse it. Thank it, because these last few months are more than I could have ever imagined of having for my own.
There was a curdling in his chest, a stirring when he realized that despite it all, Fey was probably the biggest winner among them all. She was annoying and impatient and irritating, and never gave in to any argument—no matter how wrong she was—but she was also strong and wise and kind when it counted. And January couldn’t make himself care for any of the times that it hadn’t counted, because really, time was never on their side, so what was the point in mourning over lost moments just to lose some more?
Fey got to live with certainty. Her family sucked, and she was in constant pain, but she knew that death was always a guarantee, so she lived her every second as if it were her last, because the truth was, it might’ve been. And it eventually was. January just regretted that he couldn’t forgive her or ask for her forgiveness while her impossibly dark eyes were open.
“Good heavens, when did we become so somber?” Z asked, joking, adding a hint of levity to the situation.
Jan raised an eyebrow, opening his mouth to shoot a probably true and scathing comment out, but Celine already raised a hand to stop him. “Don’t ruin it, Jan.”
He snorted. “I’m pretty sure you saying that already did.” But to Celine’s relief, he said nothing more.
And then they stood, all of them dejected and weary from the burden of how screwed they were, listening to the sound of waves crashing against the shore and watching as the little hope they had, filed out the door to be shipped to Elix.
Tragic ends for the great epics, Jan figured.
…
“I want to punch a wall-” Stel started, miming the action.
“Or two,” Z added.
Stel acknowledged his statement with a wry grin, which seemed to be the best any of them could manage, before resuming her forlorn statement. “-and sob into my pillow until I’m dehydrated.”
“That sounds remarkably effective, Hathaway,” Jax said, standing in the doorway. They had all migrated from the throne room, unable to stand the sight any longer, to Celine’s room. When Jan questioned why they were in her room, he got no response except for a half-hearted shut up January, none of us have the energy to discuss this because we’re too busy moping, from Z.
“My god, you’re worse than Jan!” Z yelped, after swearing loudly at the king’s sudden arrival. “Soon, you’ll be creeping everywhere like that spider.”
With a start, Jan realized that Z was referring to him, but honestly, Jan didn’t have the energy to argue against that. So instead, he shrugged, “Kinda true. Though don’t worry, Your Highness. You still have a bit to go with your stealth.”
“So he’s a hardass on everyone? Even the king?” Stel asked, still lying on Celine’s bed on her back.
Celine hummed in agreement, before looking up at Jax. “Isn’t the king supposed to be at the docks?”
Jax ruffled his hair, looking sheepish. “The king is, but he first wanted to check in with you guys.”
“Aw, you’re worried about us!” Z cooed, shooting the king a wink. “Don’t, Jaxypoo, we’ll be fine,” he drawled.
“Jaxypoo?” January asked, looking at Z incredulously.
“What? I never call him by the same nickname twice, so it was time to take out the heavy artillery,” Z smirked, but it looked like a practiced motion, and it made Jan wonder how he didn’t see it before. “Seriously though Jax, we’ll be fine. You, on the other hand, have to go and mingle among Immortales before signing yourself as a marionette to them.”
Jax nodded, a small smile flitting across his face. “You guys did good here,” he finally said, his face serious.
“I think we did,” Celine replied, her own face thoughtful as well. “And we’ll continue to do good tomorrow, but first, we get through today.”
“Cheers to that!” Z yelled, garnering a laugh from everyone, still tense, but a noticeable improvement.
“I’ll get going then. Wish me luck.”
“Good luck,” Stel called somewhere from her mess of blankets.
“Stay safe, Jax.” Celine reminded him, and Jax nodded at that.
“I will. And that goes for you too; stay safe.”
“We always are,” Celine cut in with a fond smile, pushing herself up to her feet, walking over to the king with a raised eyebrow. “Now shoo.”
“I didn’t even get to say goodbye to everyone!” Jax sputtered, though Jan could see the hint of a smile on his face.
“Well, everyone say ‘bye’ to Jax,” she said, hands on her hips, looking challengingly at Jax.
Normally, Jan would protest against it, but given the situation they were in, it was rare for Celine to go all mother-hen on everyone, so with a slight smile, Jan chorused ‘bye’ with Z and Stel, the word indiscernible. It wasn’t his fault, really, even though he stopped sooner
than everyone else, because Z carried out the word for much too long, and Stel decided to rebel and say ‘goodbye’ instead.
“Well there you go,” Celine said, physically turning the king’s shoulders around and giving him a slight shove. “Bye Jax.”
“Goodbye, everyone. I’ll see you all soon, and I mean it when I say don’t burn down the palace.” With another slight smile, he disappeared, leaving the room a little lighter but also darker as he left.
“Do you know what will make us feel better?” Celine asked after a moment of silence.
“Repeatedly hitting our heads against the wall?” Stel guessed.
“Falling off the face of the earth?” Z suggested with a bright and entirely sarcastic smile.
“Transporting ourselves into a world where this isn’t our life?” said Jan, grim.
“God, we’re getting morbid,” Celine muttered, before she shook herself back up to giving them a once-over. “I was actually going to say that we could use a batch of Hanna’s freshly made Signing Day strudels.”
“Oh god, please. I think it’s our best alternative right now,” Z groaned, lying down on the ground, his arms crossed over his eyes.
“How come I’ve never heard of such strudels?” Stel asked, her head finally peeking out of the covers with the promise of food.
“They are amazing, Stel,” Z immediately told her. “I don’t care what you’ve eaten on Elix, this will be better. Hanna is an actual goddess—I should probably propose soon before some other bloke steals her heart.”
“And strudels,” Jan adds.
“And strudels,” Z agrees. “Nothing wrong with loving a human being who has a true appreciation for the art of my own heart; baked goods. Celine, be a dear and get them, won’t you? I need a nap.”
Celine rolled her eyes, though she started to walk towards the door. “You owe me.”
Z made no response, though January knew better than to assume he was passed out cold; Jan could, after all, see the smirk spreading across the mechanic’s face.
“How many people do you flirt with, Z?” Jan asked, striding over to the window.
“Everyone,” he answers honestly, removing his hands to see Jan’s questioning face. “Yeah, I probably considered flirting with you too, but then you opened your mouth. Not exceedingly attractive.”
“Dually noted.” Jan mused, staring off through the window panes. He saw Z open his mouth from the corner of his eye, his eyes filled with regret which Jan knew wasn’t because of the fact that Z never flirted with him, so January just waved him off. “Don’t, Z. Just go to sleep.”
Z obeyed his command immediately, his eyes fluttering shut and arm readjusting itself so it was hovering over his face. Jan resumed his staring off, watching the shore that captivated his interest so many times during the one day. There was something beautiful and tragic of how it always came back to shore, crashing and retreating, but always back again. No matter how many times the land refused to accept it, the waves were always back.
“How are you doing, Hathaway?” Jan found himself asking, and the girl looked as surprised as he felt.
“I’m good,” she replied easily, and if it weren’t for the curl in his gut, January wouldn’t have noticed she was lying.
But he knew, so he just narrowed his eyes at her. “What’s the point of lying to someone who can always see right through you?”
“Call it an instinct. I’ve been better, but I’ve also been worse. Losing people is always hard, though I think what’s really hitting me, is that-” She cut herself off short as Celine burst into the room, noticeably ratted and strudel-less.
“Hollingsworth, when I open my eyes, I better see you with enough strudels to feed an entire army. Or better yet, Region.” Z called out, but Jan was surprised not to see a good-natured eye roll from Celine, who instead looked extremely panicked.
“This is serious. Look out the window to your far left.”
Jan didn’t question the odd request, instead shifting his gaze so he could see far past the docks where the royal ship carrying the king of NNR had left a few minutes ago to where there was a small group of people.
“Oh, shit,” Jan cursed under his breath as he peered out the window again. There were several armed men and women in black clothing, guns drawn. But what was more concerning, wasn’t the guns or bulletproof vests, nor was it their merciless looks. It was the dark curved lines, crossing together in the Immortales emblem. “They’re here.”
“Who?” Z immediately asked, sitting up with a panicked look on his face.
“The Immortales,” Stel guessed, her voice morose. “They apparently have noticed the absence of their most important treasure.”
“Maybe they’re here for something else,” Celine suggested, but Jan could tell that even she knew that her argument was weak. “Either way, we need to prepare for the worst. We need to get the files to safety—anything that incriminates us.”
“What crimes have you guys committed to be incriminated?” Stel curiously asked.
“Probably trying to defy the Immortales,” Jan wryly shot back. “We need to get those files, fast. And then we need to find a way to hide them.”
“They’ll probably search the entire damn place,” Z muttered, drawing himself to his feet as he walked over to the door, lost in thought. Suddenly he looked up at their curious faces and scowled. “What are we even doing? We need to get to meeting room as soon as possible! —you take your time, Hollingsworth.”
“Bigger issues at hand than my inability to breathe. What about the Elixir? Only Jax knows where that is.”
That caused everyone in the room to pause, the truth settling in. The Immortales were here for the Elixir, they didn’t care for anything else. The documents would be nothing else but the cherry on top, the extra piece of evidence to guarantee a war on NNR’s doorsteps within the day.
“Well that contingency plan flew out the window pretty quick,” Stel muttered.
But Jax wasn’t the only one to know where the Elixir was. “No,” Jan suddenly spoke up, leaving the three to stare at him. “The contingency plan is still in action. You three, get down to the meeting room as fast as possible—collect all of the damning evidence, and I’ll meet you guys there. I know what we can do.”
Jan could hear a chorus of question behind him, but he paid no heed to it, rushing out the door to try and stop a war.
…
“Are you guys ready?” Jan asked, running into the meeting room. Jax hadn’t been lying about the location of the Elixir, which was tightly clutched in his left hand. It was funny how something so capable of destruction was small enough to be grasped in his palm.
“Yep,” Stel breathed, holding out a package. “All physical documents are in there, along with a hard drive with all of our data on our computers. This is everything.”
“Your plan?” Celine weakly asked, and Jan could see a smudge of crimson by her lip, reminding him painfully of his childhood when he wondered what the blood coughed up by his parents meant. He felt a twang of sympathy despite himself, because while he and Celine might have not been exactly best friends, he would never wish this fate to anyone. She was the same age as him, but her chest rose and fell unevenly, her body labouring to do the fast-paced work that everyone else in the room was doing without a problem. Even as she lived past the illness, it continued to deprive her of what should have been a fulfilling, easy life.
But January didn’t voice any of these thoughts, because they didn’t have time, and he doubted that Celine would appreciate his sympathy if he gave it anyway. Jan instead decided to tell them the truth. “I have the Elixir.”
“You what?” Z asked, eyes wide.
“Jax entrusted me with its location,” he explained. “I know it sounds absurd, but I swear, it’s true. I don’t even know why, and I-”
“I believe you.”
January stopped mid-ramble, peering owlishly at Z who had just spoken.
“I believe you, January,” Z repeated
gently. “We all do.”
“You shouldn’t,” Jan weakly protested, still not believing his ears. “After everything-”
“Well, we do,” Celine interrupted. “You need to start giving yourself more credit. And no arguments on that either. We first need to get those documents and the Elixir to safety. You have a plan?”
“Yeah. Jax told me of a secret passageway that-”
“Don’t tell us anymore,” Stel, this time, interceded. “I’ve been on Elix, and I know that they could very well have effective torture devices as well as serums up there. Kessia likes to play around to get answers, but she may use it if necessary. It’s best if we don’t know, so we can’t tell them.”
January just nodded numbly, though the truth had just hit him. They were going to be prisoners on Elix. They would be tortured. They might die. But the most important one was the one that left his mind racing. If the prisoners were the people who didn’t know the location of the secret passageway, that meant that- “I need to get the documents and Elixir to safety then,” Jan whispered to himself, his voice hoarse as his chest seized up. No, he wasn’t supposed to be privy to such a burden. January could stand being cut into, stand immense pain. But standing the knowledge that he would have to stay silent and hiding away while others were suffering was not something he could do.
He didn’t deserve their trust.
He never really wanted the Head Strategist position; deep down he knew it back before the title was even Celine’s, and he sure as hell knew it now. That was the reason why he never pushed the subject with Celine, why he didn’t deliberately go out of his way to try and take the position for himself. He couldn’t handle that sort of pressure as a leader, as he found out. The knowledge that his choices would affect others on a much grander scale was terrifying, and he was much better as a stoic soldier anyway. He just didn’t want to lose the position to someone else.
Because January had lost everything before, owned virtually nothing, but always had himself and the knowledge that he did not lose. But if the glass cutting into his palm, a painful reminder that he had the Elixir held too tightly in his hand, meant anything in the terms of winning, January would give the entire damned notion up.
The Reformation Page 42