by Paris Hansch
“Eloria is… dissolving the alliance agreement?”
“What?” said Anton.
“Let’s take this elsewhere,” said Sara, glancing around the room as worried murmurs began to rise from the crowd.
Mina nodded, and they all stood. The councilors followed after them, hurriedly excusing themselves from the table. Alexander put a hand on General Ban’s shoulder. “Keep everyone as calm as you can, please.”
Ban nodded, hanging back in the hall.
Alexander followed Mina and her imperial guard in a daze. This couldn’t be happening. Maybe his brother was right. Maybe he had spent too much time gallivanting around the castle with Mina after all. He should have taken care of this mess while they still had the chance. He clenched his fists. There was nothing he could do about it now. He had failed his people.
They all filed into the cramped war room and took their seats, some opting to stand behind the chairs. Alexander leaned against the back wall. He didn’t deserve to sit at the head of the table. Was he even fit to rule?
“Let’s assess the situation,” said Mina, laying the letter in front of them.
Alexander shook his head. “What’s there to assess? Clearly, Lord Reinhardt wasn’t pleased we were unable to make it there at the appointed time.” He sighed. “We didn’t fulfill our end of the agreement, and therefore, he has no obligation to, either. We’re at their mercy, not the other way around.”
“They can’t just end it like that,” spluttered Councilor Raoul. Then, he looked at Scarlet, who shrunk behind Adelia. “And why is there a child in here?”
“Don’t worry about her,” said Adelia, cradling her arms around Scarlet. “I’ll go and talk to Lord Reinhardt. I’m sure I can fix this.”
“No, there’s something else going on.” Mina turned to Ryuko. “But first, I need you to explain. We need to have the whole picture. What happened to Hanabi?” The councilors looked upset at the change of subject, but Mina held out a hand to silence them.
Ryuko clasped his hands, the worn leather of his gloves rubbing together. It was an interesting clothing choice; only those in lower-class professions needed to wear gloves. They didn’t match the rest of his outfit, either, as everything else seemed to be meticulously cleaned and new, except his gloves, which looked like they’d been carefully repaired over the years. Ryuko took a deep breath.
“Hanabi had been wanting us to go to Lanadrin for ages, but I… wanted to finish what we were doing in Calvera. She wouldn’t let it go, and when she found some sort of lead, I finally agreed to take her. We ended up getting separated, and it wasn’t long before they spotted her. Lord Tamar seemed to know exactly who and what she was. The first thing he checked was her right shoulder for her temple mark. Luckily, I’d reminded her earlier that Lord Tamar had a particular interest in the temple girls, so she gave me this before we entered the city.”
Ryuko pulled out an ancient-looking, leather-bound book edged in gold. Adelia gasped, and Alexander furrowed his brows, leaning closer to the thick book to see what the fuss was about. The book cover was blank, the only adorning feature a strap holding the pages shut. It bore a strange mark that he’d never seen before—a single dragon, clutching a book.
Alexander racked his memory. He’d never seen an imperial dragon symbol without a pair of them. Then again, they weren’t the Empire of the Dragon Gods for nothing, and people often forgot about the Dragon Goddess of Chaos. Still, curiosity got the better of him.
“What is that?”
Adelia was almost climbing over the table to get a better look. “It’s the mark of the dragon temple!”
Mina nodded. “Hanabi is from the line of imperial priestesses.”
“Oh.” That stuff again. Alexander glanced at Mina. With the actual existence of the dragon gods, it made a little more sense why they still worshipped them in the capital. He’d never really understood it until he saw the evidence himself.
“And she’s the key to ending Anadrieth’s war,” Mina’s words rang out.
Alexander stared at Mina blankly, not wanting hope to take root in his heart. This wasn’t one of his little sister’s storybooks, and one person alone couldn’t turn this situation around.
“The key?”
“She’s a priestess,” said Adelia, looking at him pointedly. “It figures that you don’t understand how powerful they are, though. You’ve never listened to me before.” She pulled out the book that she seemed to always carry with her.
Alexander paused. Now that the two books were side by side, they looked quite similar, only Adelia’s was much more worn. Perhaps he should have paid a little more attention to his sister’s ramblings. He looked at the faded emblem, then down at the pin on his cloak. Did this have something to do with why Anadrieth’s regional crest was a priestess temple?
Ryuko stiffened at the sight of Adelia’s book. “Where did you get that?”
“I’ve always had it.” Adelia shrugged. “But that’s not important—”
“It means you’re a priestess, too,” Ryuko said in a low voice. “A woman with the ungodly power to manipulate the human spirit itself, like a puppet on a string.”
“What? No, it’s not mine. I’ve just always owned it.”
“Stand down, Ryuko,” said Mina.
Adelia fell silent, and Alexander began pacing. This was too much to process.
Kakeru rubbed his temples and clutched a jug of water, which sloshed onto Councilor Dallan’s lap. “And you let them just take her?” he slurred, ignoring Dallan’s protests. “I think you’re the dreadful consequence. Why’d you go in the first place, if you knew that Lanadrin guy would take her?”
“Because of the sudden war declaration,” he paused, sucking in his lips. “And she said she found traces of the Mistress.” Ryuko’s voice rose. “So, of course, we went immediately. Hanabi said there was something suspicious about the whole thing.”
Alexander stopped pacing, and the room fell silent. Even Mina looked surprised. It couldn’t be that woman. Not now. Not with everything else going on. He gripped his sword. The Mistress had almost single-handedly toppled the entire empire, including Anadrieth, then disappeared without a trace.
“Mistress Marionette?” the former General Barrett whispered.
“The one and only,” said Ryuko grimly.
“Impossible,” said Sara.
“She’s dead,” Councilor Raoul scoffed, flicking the leftover crumbs from his belly. “Those Celestial Assassins took care of her, for sure. She’s been gone for, what, a decade?”
Ryuko glanced at Kakeru, who glanced at Sara and Cynric. After a moment, they collectively pulled out black dragon masks with a sliver of gold glinting around the edges.
“We didn’t take care of her. She just vanished.”
His councilors were taken aback. Councilor Dallan leaned as far back in his seat as he could. He had been strangely silent throughout the entire conversation. Maybe it’d been too much for him to take in, even Alexander’s head was spinning.
Mina’s imperial guard were the Celestial Assassins? That was the only thing that made logical sense. But everything else—that a single priestess was the key to ending the war, and that the Mistress was alive, having a hand in said war—did not.
Find the cause, Mina’s voice echoed in his mind. Alexander rubbed his chin, the stubble pricking his fingertips. Maybe it did make sense. If the Mistress were behind the war itself, maybe it would explain Lord Tamar’s erratic behavior.
“We’ve all lost to her before. How can we win now?” he muttered.
Mina stood, tightening her sword belt, and everyone turned expectantly. She had to have a plan.
“I’m going to see Lord Reinhardt. Alone. There’s something I need to confirm.” Her voice rang out loud and clear, though each syllable felt like ice. She took Lord Reinhardt’s letter, slipping it into her pocket. “I’m afraid that your last mission as my Celestial Assassins will have to be taken without me.”
Alexander blinked.
“You’re… leaving?” He searched her face. That couldn’t be her plan. There was far too much at stake here.
“Last mission?” asked Kakeru, who seemed to have sobered up in an instant. “But we just got here.” Her imperial guard seemed just as bewildered as everyone else.
Anton stepped in front of the princess, clenching his fists, though Alexander could tell that it wasn’t quite in anger.
“You come and disrupt everything, and now you’re deserting us?”
Scarlet jumped up, running over to cling onto Mina. “I’m coming with you.”
Mina shook her head, giving the girl a gentle pat. “It’s not time yet, my little phoenix. Stay with them. You’ll know when to join me.”
“But you can’t leave us now,” said Adelia, the pain in her voice unmistakable.
Mina’s eyes swept over all of them, her expression unreadable. Like a beautiful statue, she felt so distant from them in that moment.
“Do you all doubt me?”
Alexander could practically hear the silence. “I…” he faltered. The words were lodged in his throat. Her question was directed at no one in particular, but he’d spoken too quickly. He wanted to say no, but the timing was undeniably suspicious. She wasn’t just leaving; she was running as fast as she could. With practically the whole empire bearing down upon them—and the fact that their only hope a girl who was already in the enemy’s clutches—he didn’t blame Mina for wanting to leave. He wanted to believe her, wanted to believe in her. But the words wouldn’t come.
Mina’s eyes softened, and she gave them all a small smile, as though she knew things they didn’t. Her gaze came to rest on Anton.
“Remember, I’m your friend.” Then, she looked at Kakeru. “Tell Hanabi one last thing: remember your oath.”
As Mina moved to leave, Kakeru stood, pulling out a small ceremonial dagger adorned with a tassel on one end.
“If… this is truly what you wish, I can’t stop you. But before you go, I have one request. After all these years, we’d like to renew our oath of loyalty to you.” He glanced at Ryuko. “All of us.” Kakeru pressed the tip of his finger into the dagger, drawing a drop of blood.
Mina paused, then nodded. She drew her sword, holding it out in front of her. Kakeru held his finger over her sword, letting the droplet fall. It gave a slight hiss before the blood was absorbed into the blade. He then held out the dagger to Ryuko, who took it after a long pause. One by one, her imperial guard did the same.
Alexander felt a shiver go through him. He wasn’t familiar with any of this, but even he could sense the binding power behind a gesture like that. Even his councilors were unusually silent.
Mina went to sheathe her sword when a voice called out.
“Wait. I want to take the oath, as well.”
Alexander turned to see his sister holding out her hand expectantly. He shook his head.
“But—”
“It’s not your decision,” Adelia snapped. She took the blade and slid it along her index finger, meeting Mina’s eyes. “I swear, I will always follow you no matter what happens. Not because you’re the princess, but because you’re my best friend. You’ll always be my best friend.”
Mina smiled as the droplet sank into her sword with a slight hiss.
Adelia turned the hilt of the dagger to face Alexander. Her gaze was almost a challenge. She’d noticed his hesitation before and wanted to see if he’d do it, too. But he couldn’t move.
Mina slid her sword back in its sheath, and the moment was lost. “These are my final orders to you all”, she said to her guard. “Protect them all with your lives.”
Her imperial guard put one hand across their chests and the other behind their backs. Mina mirrored their salute. Then, after one last look, she left without a backward glance.
Alexander ran his fingers through his hair. His hands were shaking, and his legs were numb. She was gone. A whirlwind that had barreled into his life and stirred everything up, only to leave the way she had come. Were they really on their own now? He gripped his Golden Dawn for comfort.
He had to snap out of it. He was the Lord of Anadrieth; it didn’t matter if he didn’t want the responsibility. His people had laid their lives in his hands. Whether they had the princess with them or not, he had to do something. He couldn’t count on her to return; it didn’t sound like she was going to, anyway. He steeled himself, mustering his courage. If he sounded confident, he could fool himself into being confident. It had always worked before, and it was going to work now.
“Councilmen, I want you to prepare Anadrieth for war under the direction of Lord Anton and General Ban. Get as many people behind the castle walls as you can. Adelia, work with the servants to prepare the supplies and get people settled.” His siblings looked surprised, but he had no choice to lean on them this one time. They all had to step up now.
Alexander glanced at Mina’s imperial guards. “As Princess Mina said, Hanabi is the key to ending the war, though I don’t know how. If we go to Lanadrin, we may be able to find out more about the Mistress, and perhaps I could finally get an audience with Lord Tamar himself. Will you help me rescue the priestess?”
Alexander held his breath. To rescue a hostage in the heart of enemy territory with half-a-dozen people and no plan was insane. Not to mention, it would take at least three days to ride far enough north to cross the river, and the Plains of Scoria would only slow them down further. There was even a chance that Lanadrin was marching already. If that were the case, they’d run into them, unprepared.
“Of course,” scoffed Kakeru. “We were already going to do that. But you follow our lead, got it?”
Alexander nodded, his mind focusing. Mina had set the stage; he was sure of that much. Now, it was up to the rest of them to finish it.
“All right. It’s time for the rest of you to go back out there now. General Ban can only stall the people for so long.”
For once, no one protested, and his siblings and councilors headed back out to the banquet. Alexander took a seat. There was a little more breathing room now.
“Does anyone have a plan to get into Lanadrin?”
This was one area in which he knew he couldn’t take the lead. He’d never been to Lanadrin, and there was a well-known rumor that if you hadn’t been there before, you couldn’t enter, just like how their Celestine Forest and the Plains of Scoria could be treacherous if one didn’t know how to navigate them.
He had no idea how Mina’s guard operated, though it would be somewhat of an honor to work with the legendary Celestial Assassins themselves.
Kakeru took a swig of water. “Sara, how long do you need to force everyone from the castle?”
Sara bit her lip, counting on her fingers. “A few hours to make more explosives, and probably half a day to infiltrate and plant them.”
Alexander blinked. She could make explosives? They were incredibly rare.
“And the range?”
“If you can get close to the castle wall, I’ll be able to control the ignition from there, and you can light it.”
“Good. Cynric, you’re in charge of getting her out.”
Sara shook her head. “But I’ll probably need Scarlet, and that’s assuming I know where to plant them in the first place.”
“Me?” Scarlet squeaked.
Alexander glanced at the girl. He didn’t quite understand what Mina had told him—something about phoenixes—but the orphan girl was clearly important. She looked nervous, anxiously twirling her red hair around her fingers. There was something about her that was very familiar, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.
“Right, Alexander, you’ll be responsible for her,” said Kakeru. Then, he stared at Ryuko.
Ryuko was drawing on a piece of parchment, his hand flying over the page. He held it out to Sara.
“Here. It’s rough, and things might have changed, but it’s basically what Lanadrin’s castle looks like. The walls are tough, but there are several points of stress that will cause more
commotion than harm.”
Everyone stared at him.
“Of course, you’d know,” said Kakeru as he rolled his eyes. “Once a traitor, always a traitor.”
“Listen here, old man—”
“Boys.” Sara snapped her fingers. “We need to get in there somehow, and Ryuko is the only one who knows how. Time is of the essence, and there’s no point bringing up old wounds. This map will do. We should prepare to move out now.”
Kakeru narrowed his eyes. “Fine.”
Alexander blinked. “Wait, that’s it?”
“I’ll explain on the way,” said Kakeru, sighing. “Let’s move out.”
A few hours later, the small band was riding out of the castle and into the Celestine Forest. Alexander was silent for most of the journey, concentrating on the dangerous ride in the darkness, while the little orphan girl clung to his mare’s feathers in front of him. He didn’t approve of taking her with them, nor did he approve of the fact that he was saddled with her, but Kakeru hadn’t left any room for protests.
They headed north, as expected, until the other riders began to veer away from the path, leading them west. Alexander frowned. That couldn’t be right. The Moonstone River was at its most treacherous there, with no way to cross. It certainly helped to lessen the number of soldiers needed for border patrols and forced anyone heading toward them to take the long way around, but that necessity went both ways.
They stopped at the banks—near the spot where they’d found Mina two years ago—and dismounted, approaching the water’s edge. The deep rapids were almost black, the swirling void the cause of many a death.
Alexander scratched the back of his neck. “Is this part of the plan?”
Ryuko eyed him. “If you’re going to follow the Celestial Assassins, you’re going to travel like a Celestial Assassin.”
Cynric cocked his head. “I could slow the rapids.”
“I might be able to hover over it,” said Sara.