by Paris Hansch
Alexander frowned, but his brother’s expression brought dread seeping through the cracks.
Adelia.
He sprinted toward the castle, his footsteps falling heavy as he swung his head left to right, scanning for his sister. She didn’t seem to be in the great hall. Nor the library. Nor her room. Servants and soldiers alike stumbled out of his way as he barreled through the castle. He had an inkling of where she might be, but it was the last place he wanted to check. In the end, he didn’t have a choice. Alexander tore open the door to the infirmary.
There she was, lying on the bed. She was pale, and a sickly shade of yellow marred her complexion. He took a few steps forward. When he saw her chest rise and fall ever so slightly, he let out a sigh of relief. If she had died, he would have never forgiven himself.
Hanabi sat next to her, holding her hand and flipping through pages in her tome. Cynric was sitting on her other side, monitoring her pulse and making notes in his book. Elaine hobbled over to him, patting him on the arm.
“She’ll be right now. Still breathing, at least. The lass is taking good care of her.”
“What happened?” he asked through clenched teeth.
“Ask her.”
Alexander approached the edge of her bed, gripping the wood. Whatever happened must have driven Anton’s fragile psyche over the edge, as even the two normally stoic figures of Hanabi and Cynric seemed tense, though they weren’t in a panic like his brother. Hanabi was murmuring to herself, running her finger back and forth over the slightly glowing symbols in her book. When he opened his mouth, she held up a hand to stop him. Alexander narrowed his eyes. He had the right to know what was going on, and he was going to get answers.
A wave of clarity suddenly settled into his mind like a soft, warm blanket. He was being irrational and impulsive, and he needed to calm down. He took a few deep breaths and began pacing in a circle. He was just stressed because his brother was angry. He felt everything melt away, and for a moment, he was calmer than he had been in months. At last, he could think clearly again, thank dragons.
Hanabi turned to him. As her hand left her book, the glow faded from the symbols.
“There’s been a bit of an incident. However, this was necessary for Adelia’s growth as a priestess, and she was fully aware of the consequences.”
Alexander frowned. “She’s a priestess?”
“Yes. This is a complex and confidential matter, though, and I’ll only be able to determine the full extent of the damage if she wakes up.”
He blanched, the worry beginning to creep back in. “If?”
Hanabi nodded, her short hair bobbing back and forth. “I’m not going to make light of the situation.” She briefly explained the workings of a priestess’ spirit arts and why they needed to go through such a dangerous procedure, but he was only half-following the situation. He cursed himself for not paying a little more attention to all those years of Adelia’s ramblings.
“She’s got a strong heart, so I believe she’ll pull through. But,” Hanabi clutched her book, “only a fraction of her spirit remains in her physical body. The effects won’t be good.” She stood. “I’m going to eat something, call me if her situation changes.”
Alexander slumped into a chair beside Cynric. His brother was right. He was standing outside the door again—unable to prevent it from happening, unable to fix it. He rested his head in his heads. This situation was completely out of his territory. If they were to be attacked right now, Adelia would be a sitting target.
Your freedom caged us.
Was Anton right? If he hadn’t pulled away from his siblings, would they have even been in this situation? He kept telling himself that it was for their own benefit, but maybe they never saw it that way. He closed his eyes, and a memory flashed through his mind. They were back in his room, giggling inside the mini-castle they’d made from blankets and pillows. Adelia was telling them a story about a brave king, while he was acting out the parts, much to Anton’s delight. Alexander shook his head, brushing away their childish laughter. It was too late to turn back the clock now. The three of them had been broken into far too many pieces to mend.
“Ever let down your family, your region and everyone who depends on you at the same time?” he asked despondently.
“Yes,” replied Cynric, without looking up.
Alexander glanced at him. He hadn’t been expecting an answer, let alone one so straightforward.
“Well, I guess you’d know how it feels.” He sighed. “My brother was wrong. He’s not the disgrace of the family; I am.”
“So?” asked Cynric.
“So, what?”
Cynric stopped writing, removing his glasses to look at him. “What will you do?”
Alexander threw up his hands. “I don’t know! My siblings hate me and probably wouldn’t let me help them, even if there was anything I could do. My councilors haven’t stopped piling complaints and worries on me since I got back. And I haven’t had a wink of rest in dragon knows how long.” He clicked his tongue. “The only viable option is to surrender and try to bargain for my people’s lives. Maybe there’s someplace they can evacuate. I just don’t know. I can’t send my men out there, knowing they’re all going to die. There’s nothing else I can do.”
Cynric shook his head, returning to his writing. “You could stop feeling sorry for yourself.”
“Excuse me?”
“No problem is solved by giving up.”
Alexander didn’t have a response. He wasn’t giving up, was he? There just came a point when your options became so narrowed that you only had one choice.
“There you are, my lord,” called Councilor Dallan. He stood, panting in the doorway, his beard frazzled. “Where have you been? There’s still much to discuss—”
“Can’t you see I’m busy?” Alexander didn’t spare him another look. There were only so many meetings he could take, and right now, attending to more complaints wouldn’t do anyone any good.
Councilor Dallan waltzed in, glancing at Adelia. “I hoped you would’ve had the sense to get your priorities straight. Thousands of people need you right now. You can’t just hide in here. I thought I taught you better than this.”
Alexander gritted his teeth. “It’s my little sister.”
“And the needs of one outweigh the needs of many?” Councilor Dallan’s brows furrowed. “Without the alliance, she’s of no real use to us anymore—”
Alexander’s fist connected with the man’s face.
The councilman staggered back, clutching his cheek. He spat a mouthful of blood into his palm, looking back at him in shock.
“Get out,” hissed Alexander. It took everything he had not to pummel him to the ground then and there. Councilor Dallan didn’t respond. With narrowed eyes and a ramrod-straight back, he stalked from the room, slamming the door behind him.
“… What’s all the racket?”
Alexander whirled around to see Adelia groggily trying to sit up. She suddenly covered her mouth and slumped over the bed, vomiting into the bucket Cynric held out.
Cynric nodded at them. “I’ll get Hanabi.”
She wiped her mouth, then turned away, groaning and clutching her head.
Alexander moved around the bed, squatting down beside her. “I’m so glad you’re awake. How are you feeling?”
“Like I died.” Adelia coughed violently and spat on the floor. Her breaths were labored, her eyes unfocused.
He waited for her to lie back down before handing her some water. “Here.”
She tried to take the cup, but her hands were trembling too much. He put a hand behind her head and helped her take careful sips. When she seemed to calm down, he took a seat. He wasn’t sure what to say.
“Are you feeling any better?”
Adelia managed a slight shake of her head. Hanabi and Cynric returned and were by her side at once.
“Can you sit up?” asked Hanabi. “Wiggle your fingers and toes?”
Adelia scrunched her
face in concentration, trying to use her elbows to prop herself up. When she couldn’t, she settled for moving her toes, though even that seemed strenuous.
Hanabi checked her over for a few more minutes, but her face was set in a grim mask.
“You should be less nauseous once your body adjusts and you get some rest. But I’m afraid…” She glanced at the floor. “The damage is permanent. Because most of your spirit resides outside your body, you will probably find even basic movements difficult. And… I don’t believe you will ever walk again.”
Adelia’s speechless expression mirrored Alexander’s.
“I’m truly sorry,” said Hanabi. “I didn’t expect things to get so out of hand. But on a positive note, if you can manage the risks, you’re probably the most powerful priestess that has ever existed.”
“Can we… reverse it?” asked Adelia.
“I’m afraid not. Once a spirit has left the body, that’s it. It can never be returned. It is only by our priestess blood that we are able to sustain a piece of our spirit externally. Anyone else would die.”
“Why wasn’t I informed that you were even attempting this?” Alexander asked. He didn’t know if he’d have been able to stop it, but he might have been able to do something. Truthfully, the whole situation was just making him feel even more helpless.
“I knew… the risks,” Adelia panted, sinking back into the pillows.
Alexander shook his head. “You would dance with death for the sake of no one but yourself? You would trade your ability to walk for some unknown power?”
Adelia shot him a look that chilled him to the core. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“No, I don’t. Because I’m not told anything,” he huffed.
She let out a humorless laugh. “And when have you ever listened? Don’t bother, Alexander. Save your worries for someone you actually care about.”
Alexander was speechless. It seemed that he didn’t know how to communicate with his siblings anymore. Maybe he never had. He could feel the others in the infirmary averting their eyes and pretending to go about their business. It was all too much. He gave her one last look, but she was already ignoring him and talking to the others.
He left the room silently. He just wanted to be alone for a bit.
Normally, he would have called Mina over to talk things out, but she wasn’t here anymore. What would Mina have said to him? Probably something similar to what Cynric had said. He didn’t even want to think about it. She’d been his confidant, just as much as Councilor Dallan. Now, both of them were gone. And he wasn’t even sure if he wanted them back. Mina was their princess; she was meant to do something about all of this. And Councilor Dallan was meant to support him, not tear down his family. There seemed to be fewer people on his side every time he turned around.
Alexander weaved his way through the castle, avoiding eye contact with everyone he passed, a feat that was proving quite difficult with how crowded it was. The grounds were full of his people, hiding behind the castle walls, cowering in fear. He could feel their judgment—their disappointment. His pace quickened. He wasn’t entirely sure where he was going; he just wanted to get away from everyone.
A small hand grabbed his arm.
“Psst…” It was Scarlet. “This way.”
There was nothing stopping him from following her, so he did. She led him to the eastern tower, trudging up the stairs. How did she know where she was going? Even he didn’t know this section of the castle as well as she appeared to, though he didn’t usually come over to this wing. At the top of the tower, Scarlet began to climb the ladder that led to the roof.
“Hang on a minute,” said Alexander.
“Come on!”
She scaled the ladder in mere seconds, pushing open the door and hoisting herself up. He hesitated. He hadn’t even realized that there was a rooftop entrance, and he wondered if the ladder would hold his weight. The view from the small windows was already high enough. Wouldn’t they fall off when they got to the top?
As he stood there, weighing his options, Scarlet leaned through the open roof hatch.
“Are you coming?”
Alexander sighed, taking one step, then another, until he reached the top of the ladder. He poked his head through the open hole in the roof and almost immediately recoiled from the strong breeze.
“It’s not that bad,” said Scarlet, sticking out her hand to help him up.
Alexander gritted his teeth, carefully maneuvering himself out onto the roof while trying to stay as far from the edge as possible; it was a long way down, should he fall. After several minutes of shifting, he finally sat next to her, his left hand tightly clutching the open hatch.
“So, why are we here?”
Scarlet smiled, gazing off into the distance. “I always find a way to get up high, no matter where I am. It means I can be alone. I thought you’d appreciate that. Plus, you can almost see the whole region from here. It’s pretty.”
Alexander took his eyes away from his knees for a moment. She was right. His people were like small, frantic dots down below, and their deserted city lay beyond the castle walls—a city he’d already failed to protect. Anadrieth was lost.
It didn’t matter how prepared they were; they were completely surrounded. Behind them lay the dark Jade Mountains, it’s gloomy presence a constant reminder that no refuge lay that way. And to the east sat Eloria and the Sea of Dunite, blocking off any hope of escape.
“It’s far from pretty. All I see is a region that’s backed against a wall, full of abandoned houses and frightened people,” murmured Alexander.
They sat in silence for a long time, watching the people down below. It was indeed peaceful up here, but it only let his own voice of despair take a stronger hold. What would happen if he jumped off the edge? It wouldn’t be fair to anyone, even if he were to spare himself the pain. The sun crawled across the sky, sinking lower and lower. He shook his head. No matter what, he wouldn’t take the coward’s way out. But that didn’t change their circumstances.
“You’re wrong.” Scarlet’s small voice cut through his thoughts. “Let me tell you what I see.” She stood up, holding her arms out, and Alexander instinctively wrapped a hand around her ankle. “I see a region that’s still standing. I see people that haven’t given up on their leader. Anadrieth may have many dark places, but dawn always rises.” Her crimson hair whipped around her face, and her voice held an astounding amount of conviction for someone her age. He couldn’t help but admire her for it.
Alexander gave her a little smile. “How’d you get so wise?”
“The streets aren’t a kind place,” said Scarlet. “But I never stopped moving forward. You learn to do things quickly, whether it’s accepting a hard truth or appreciating the little things.” She put her hands on her hips. “You know, you’re supposed to take care of people like us, the ones that have nothing, that come from nothing. You made Anadrieth an awful place to live, and I won’t forgive you for that.”
It hurt to hear. Alexander gripped the roof. It was yet another reason to be ashamed.
She looked back at him, and there was a subtle warmth in her eyes. “Even so, this is my home, and I want to protect it. Don’t you think others feel the same way?”
Alexander slowly shook his head. “But there’s no hope left.”
“Only if that’s what you believe.” Scarlet squatted, staring directly at him. “But do you think you can decide that for other people? If you can’t fight for your own hope, fight for theirs.” She pointed toward his people down below. “That’s what a great leader would do.” She grinned, a spark lighting up her eyes. “And I believe you can be a great leader.”
Alexander ran a hand through his hair, and he couldn’t help but let a real smile grow on his face. She was right, as was Cynric. He might have felt like giving up, but there were many people down there who hadn’t. His people believed that there was hope, and if he could believe in their hope, they might have a chance. It was ti
me to stop feeling sorry for himself and keep moving forward, no matter the outcome. He ruffled her hair.
“Thanks, Scarlet. Let’s go get everyone and decide what to do.”
As he stood, his foot slipped, and he hurriedly crouched to grab hold of the hatch. He’d almost forgotten that they were so high up. He planted his feet back on solid ground as soon as he could, and together, they ran through the castle. They split up, gathering everyone of importance in the great hall for what could be the final meeting of Anadrieth—no, he had to have faith—the meeting to decide the future of Anadrieth.
Everyone slowly assembled in the great hall. Alexander stood at the head of the table, with the princess’ imperial guard sitting on one side and his councilors on the other. Cynric had carried Adelia down from the infirmary and carefully placed her in a chair next to himself, while Scarlet had dragged Anton into the hall, who was now standing awkwardly at the other end of the table. Neither of his siblings made eye contact with him, but at least they were here. He scanned the room. There was one person missing.
“Where’s Councilor Dallan?”
Everyone looked at each other and shrugged. No one had seen him recently, and he wasn’t in his room. Their meeting would have to proceed without him. Alexander stood before them. He hadn’t bothered changing into his lordly robes. It wasn’t necessary; he was just Alexander, asking his people for a favor.
“I know I haven’t been the best leader,” he looked at his councilors, “or ally,” he looked at the princess’ imperial guard, “or brother,” his gaze fell on his siblings, “and for that, I’m sorry.” Alexander took a deep breath. “It’s true that I’d stopped fighting because I thought that everyone else had, too. But I was wrong. If there’s just one person that believes we have hope, then I want to protect that hope, even if our chances are slim.” He nodded at Scarlet, who gave him a thumbs up. “I’d like to hear from all of you. What do you think we should do now?”
There was a moment of silence.
“The choice remains the same, fight or surrender,” said Barrett. “Although my son has some… unorthodox leadership tactics, he will be able to lead his men into battle alongside you. I, for one, refuse to lie down and give Lanadrin a single inch.”