4

“What, in all of blood and creation, were you thinking!” It was not so much that Sybelle had been given leave to escort Lilica out of the council chamber all by herself, but rather that the guards who had escorted her in had hesitated for just long enough to insinuate that they would rather not find themselves within fifty feet of the dark mage. Impatient and eager to leave before any further opposition rose among the council, she did not wait for them to find their backbones again. “You made your point in seconds. Some very important people could have been seriously hurt, along with my reputation. When I say call it off, you call it off—do you understand me?”

Contrary to popular belief, Lilica D’Or was not immoral, or even amoral, for that matter. A flicker of guilt had struck her when she had witnessed the terror in the eyes of those men, when that prince feared for his father’s life and had struggled to tug him out of danger. What had triggered the dark energies that used her body as a conduit, she still did not know, and had it been up to her, she’d have kept them contained. But Sybelle had been right: they had wanted it, wanted proof, wanted to see that she could be the weapon the noblewoman claimed she was. They had asked for it, had gotten it, and then complained in the aftermath that it was too much. They had disregarded her reluctance and passed it off a inability, while Sybelle herself had urged her on despite her warning; and now, she was making a hypocrite of herself, acting abashed and dumbfounded that she had the gall to endanger others, to not jump when told to jump.

Lilica regretted a lot in life, and guilt ate away at her for other acts and instances. But now was not one of those times. “I warned you. I refused to act, and you’d have been laughed out of the room.” She muttered, eyes straight ahead of her, refusing to return Sybelle’s livid gaze. Those vibrant blue eyes practically burned into her skin. “Then I do what you want—what they all wanted—and now you are equally unhappy. Say what you want, I maintained my end of the bargain. I expect you to uphold yours.”

“Bargain? Oh, this bargain is far from having been fulfilled, especially on your part.” The more she spoke, the more irrational Sybelle realized her anger was. And yet, the fact that Lilica was right only angered her more, and there was just no breaking that vicious cycle then and there. She let it instead ride out its course. “You have shown me that you are dangerous. That our guards did, in fact, have reason to arrest you, and that perhaps I have been a fool for entertaining the possibility that you might be useful to us. What I have yet to see is that you can be trusted.”

“And how, pray tell, am I to convince you of that?” Lilica stopped when Sybelle came to a halt in front of a familiar pair of heavy doors. Her lips dipped in a frown. “What, do you intend to keep me locked in here until you come to the conclusion that I am trustworthy? Is that your grand solution?”

Solution? No, but Sybelle was of no mind to be pondering solutions after the events of that morning. “I need time to think. And after destroying the council chamber and endangering the lives of the most important people in East Amaijah, you cannot seriously expect that the council will condone you roaming this palace, unsupervised, just yet.” Pulling open the door to the room that was by now all too familiar to the dark mage, she waited with an impatient tap of her foot until Lilica finally saw fit to comply, and crossed the threshold. “Look. I have not forgotten what I told you that I would do in exchange for your help; and I am not one to break a promise. But you must understand, we are dealing in some very tedious politics here… And I need time to figure this out, on my behalf and yours. You must give me that time.”

“Well,” the corner of Lilica’s mouth turned upward in a humourless grin. “I don’t appear to have a choice.”

“Just… ugh. Don’t try me right now!” Slamming the door shut, she secured the lock, leaving Lilica in the hands of solitude and isolation once again. This isn’t cruelty. It is necessary. For her own protection, even…

And with that rationalization, Sybelle walked away, before second thoughts could change her mind.

---

She trudged through snow in bare feet, arms exposed, and with little more than her night shift as protection against the bite of winter. As to how Sybelle Silvanys had ended up so unprepared in the middle of a thick forest was a mystery, even to her. Hadn’t summer just begun a couple of weeks beforehand? She didn’t even recognize the woods, and wondered where, in all of Amaijah, that the trees grew quite so tall, and so close together. “Hello?” She called, her voice hoarse against the bitter wind, and her body shivering with what little feeling it had left. “Is anyone there? I need… can someone help me? Please…”

Clutching her shoulders and keeping her head down against the wind, there was little more that she could do be continue to put one foot in front of the other, lest she give up entirely and succumb to the unrelenting chill. “S…someone… is anyone there? Please…” At that back of her mind lingered the unsettling feeling that she would not make it out of this alone, with no help, yet there was no one in sight, not with each and every turn of her head…

Almost out of nowhere, something—someone—came into view: and it was with great relief that Sybelle realized she was not alone. It was almost as if her tired eyes had taken too long to pick up on that small lump taking shelter beneath a tree; who knew how long they had been there? Surely they had heard her cries… so why had they remained silent? Unless…

“Hello? If you are alive, then speak up.” Jaw clenched against the cold, Sybelle put one numb foot in front of the other as she hobbled towards the hunched form. “I truly hope you are not playing games. I need help, and if you do too, then…”

A child. There was no mistaking the size and slightness of that small form, knees pulled tight to a shallow chest, a dark braid tumbling over their shoulder with icicles hanging from the very tip. Unlike Sybelle, the child—a little girl, but the looks of it—was clothed in a winter coat and boots, but looked as though she had been there for a very long time, based on the bluish tips of her small fingers. Suddenly, her own safety did not seem quite so imperative. “Are… you all right?” Approaching more slowly so as not to appear a threat, she was relieved to find that small chest rising and falling. At the very least, she was still alive. “You aren’t here alone, are you…? Or have you run away?”

“When is he coming back?” She didn’t look up, and the voice emanating from that small body was smaller by far, almost inaudible against the whistling of the wind. Sybelle had to strain to hear.

“Is he… is who coming back? You’re here with someone?” Against her better judgement, she knelt to better hear, biting her tongue against the chill of the snow against her knees. “What does he look like? Maybe we can—”

The wind picked up all of a sudden, stealing the breath and voice from Sybelle’s lungs. Reflexively, she brought her arm up to shield her face as she turned it away to the ice-filled gust, her cheeks too numb to feel the pellets hit and nick her face. What must have been a full moment later, the assaulting gale died down, and she dropped her arm from her eyes, only to find the space where the child had just been was vacant. No footprints led to or from the spot, and in fact, nary an impression in the snow indicated that anyone had been sitting there at all.

Nothing, save for deep crimson spots and speckles that suspiciously bore similarity to blood…

She awoke with a start against the plush cushioning of her down-filled mattress, perspiration dotting her brow. Moonlight filtered through the ceiling-high windows, painting bright streaks across the smooth, wooden floor planks, prompting a curse to fall from her lips. She had intended to take a short nap before supper… not sleep through the remainder of the damned day!

An ache resonated through her skull as she threw her legs over the side of the bed and stood all too quickly. With a low groan, she pressed her fingertips to her temple. It had been only a dream, some random and eclectic assemblage of images that her subconscious decided to conjure, but those very images still felt fresh in her mind. In fact, her lips tingled, the way that skin does when it begins to thaw following endurance to cold, as blood begins to circulate once again. She couldn’t shake the cold, couldn’t shake that lingering feeling of helplessness, of being completely alone in a situation that required a helping hand to survive…

Sybelle had grown out of having nightmares years ago. But that was possibly the most frightened that she had been under the spell of her ow subconscious mind in a very, very long time.

With bitter thoughts about the waste of a day and no solutions or further plans stemming from the events of that morning, Sybelle left her bedchamber, relieved to find bodies still mulling about in the corridors. At least she had not entirely slept the evening away… Though perhaps she should have. At every turn of every corner, she picked up on the murmurs, her name dropped with incredulity or amusement when onlookers and idlers thought she could not hear. No doubt, word of what had occurred in the council chamber earlier that morning had circulated like an epidemic. Do not pay any heed. They would be overjoyed to garner a reaction…

“Lady Sybelle?”

So much for composure and carefully contained anger. The gossiping idiots should have known better than to dare to address her, after using her name as the butt of some joke or controversy. “Now listen, you idle retch! If you think that I will waste my time entertaining your…” No sooner did she turn on her heel to face the person addressing her that all colour drained from her livid face, leaving pallor and panic in its wake. “Your… Highness. I… I, ah… did not realize…”

Sidayne Cilithiel raised a hand and shook his head dismissively. “Please, do not feel the need to explain… have I caught you at a bad time, milady?”

“No! Certainly not, I just… I was asleep, woke up too suddenly. Did not realize the time… I hope you can forgive my rudeness, your Highness.”

“Only if you can find it in your heart to forgive mine.” The king’s son rested a hand over his heart and bowed his head. “I did not do my best in supporting you on… that matter, this morning. Neither you nor your charge were at any fault, and I should have had the good sense to act with more reason.” His calm grey eyes, like quiet storms, looked up from the tips of his boots. “I realize that I have no right in asking this, but I… I hope that our longstanding friendship can yet endure, in spite of this grave mishap.”

It was a moment where Sybelle might have agreed to just about anything, if it meant drawing the conversation to a close. If all eyes hadn’t been fixed on her before, the they were now, while Prince Sidayne Cilithiel begged her forgiveness. Whether or not he had desired an audience for such a feat, to make his remorse public, was beyond her realm of knowledge and care; she wanted to find herself as far as possible from the center of this crowd’s attention. “Yes, your Highness. Of course. Think no more of it.” The frantic words scrambled from her lips as they curved into a nervous smile.

“Truly? Please…” Sidayne lowered his voice. “Do not placate me for my standing. If there is anything that I can do to—”

“There is; of course there is.” With a smile that was just a little less contrived, she reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, a bold and decisive move. “The bedchamber just down the corridor from my own remains vacant, since the Syxers so kindly took their leave. I would be in your debt if you could have it prepared for our new guest, as soon as possible.” To clarify, she added, “I did promise that she would be treated with welcome for her cooperation, though it would facilitate my dealings with her significantly if I did not have to cross all the way to the other side of this palace to speak with her. That is, of course, if you or your father condones it…”

“Consider it done.” The prince nodded. “I trust in your dealings with this outsider. If you think it safe and appropriate to allow her to rest, unguarded—”

“I do.” Her fingernails bit into the flesh of her palms as she squeezed her hands into fists. It was beginning to feel as if the walls were closing in, with every eye and ear surreptitiously privy to their conversation, and no doubt making judgments and drawing farfetched conclusions, and Sybelle was convinced she would not survive another moment as these onlookers’ source of entertainment. “This woman has no intention of stirring trouble for us, your Highness. She has been free of her shackles all day long; if she truly harboured sinister intent in her heart, then she’s already had ample time to act upon it.”

Sidayne offered a shallow bow. “If that is your strong belief, then I will get on your request right away… Oh, and… Sybelle?”

She had already turned and begun to make herself scarce from the corridor when the prince called her attention back to him, with a reluctant glance over her shoulder. “The rest of the council is unnecessarily hard on you; do not think me oblivious to their attitudes.” His tone took on a quieter air. “Unfortunately, those old men feel entitled to have their say, and I cannot begrudge them. But please do not let it weigh on your spirit. You’re an asset to the council, whether or not they choose to see it.”

“Really, your Highness, there is no need to worry for me.” Her lips, twitching with impatience, curled into a broad grin. “I have no intention to lower my voice in the council chamber anytime soon.”

The Silvanys noble did not offer any further opportunities for the conversation to continue. With a curt nod to signal the end of their discussion, Sybelle retreated with long strides. Apart from the discomfort of being the potential centerpiece of gossip among the other busybodies, the disconcerting urgency in speaking with the dark mage propelled her footsteps, around corners and down a winding staircase. Since she had awoken, that awful feeling of helplessness and isolation had clung to her skin like the cold she had unconsciously endured. What she had felt, what that strange little girl she’d dreamt had indubitably felt… In the aftermath, all that she could think of was Lilica. Alone and helpless in the dungeons below. Alone in a crowd and helpless before the council and the king. And now alone, once again, in a locked and guarded room…

Could she be feeling that way? Because of me and my decisions, despite that she has done exactly what I asked for? Perhaps it was all speculation; Lilica had not exactly been forthcoming with her own emotions. But although Sybelle Silvanys was a lot of things, some good and many questionable, a liar was not one of them.

It had been nearly a full day; and it was high time that she cleared her obviously conflicted conscience and made good on her promise to the dark one.

---

Exactly what had happened in the council chamber that morning continued to elude Lilica, and instead of experiencing any meagre semblance of clarity, she fell victim to a familiar weariness that always followed the use of her magic. It descended upon her not long after Sybelle left her alone in her quarters, and for fear that her legs might not make it all the way to the bed at the other end of the room, she took a seat at the small, singular dining table, upon which she rested her arms and dizzy head. I should not have let it happen… it would have been safer for them to think me useless. But try though she might, she could not comprehend what had triggered that release of dark energy. Pressure to comply? The ambivalence towards complying, thereby activating precisely that which she had desired to hide? Both, and something more…?

A fraction of what terrified the dark mage was her lack of understanding, and a deep-seated belief that that very lack of understanding was what gave her uncanny abilities power over her… And yet there was no real resolution to such a cycle, which left her stuck, floating in limbo, ever uncertain and ever wondering…

To say she slept was not entirely accurate. Lilica’s body did not move from its position for hours, eyes closed and form deflated, but she did not dream, did not rest, did not replenish what she felt she had spent earlier that day.

That said, she might not have risen at all that evening, had someone not come barging into her room, once again interrupting her precious semblance of peace. “Up. I am relocating you to a different room.” The everpresent edge in Sybelle’s voice cut through Lilica’s solitude like a freshly sharpened blade, but there was something… something decidedly different about the haughty blonde. Despite that she herself looked as though she had just risen from slumber, the cutting edge of her strong personality did not reflect in her striking blue eyes, for once. The dark one was no expert at divining emotion and intent, but it looked very much akin to remorse…

“How many more times do you intend to move me around this luxurious prison?” Sitting upright, Lilica raked her fingers through her tangle of black hair. It was well overdue for a rinse. “I did what you asked. I thought I was supposed to benefit from this, as well.”

Sybelle picked at a loose thread on her sleeve. “You will. Do not call me a liar; I will come through on my part. But that does not mean that your cooperation ends here, do you understand?” She met Lilica’s inquisitive eyes. “I will agree to work with you if you agree to work with me. Surely you recognize that this is more than a finite transaction.”

“Fine. But that makes me your partner, then; not your prisoner. Are you willing to accept that you must treat me with dignity from hereon out? Is that even within your realm of capability?”

Partner? She really has the nerve to put a name on her position, here? The lady Silvanys felt the familiar warmth of vitriol rise in her throat at the dark mage’s audacity, but found it within herself to keep it at bay. Lilica was not wrong, and it was for precisely that reason that she felt the anger churn in her gut, irrational and childish. It served no good purpose. Fine. Let her think what she wants. Whatever earns her compliance. “If you’ll shut up and follow me, I think you will come to realize that I have already prepared to meet all of your little concerns,” she said at last, lifting her chin. “Hurry up, won’t you? Unless you prefer to stay in these guest quarters with guards at the door, listening to your every fidget.”

Lilica responded with only a frown and a glower, but lifted her tired body from its seat and followed Sybelle out of her gilded cell. The dark one’s reluctant host made no attempt at idle chatter, nor did she provide any explanation to curious and aghast onlookers, who likely wondered what the demon of dark energies was doing outside of her confines so soon after what had occurred that morning. It took every ounce of will power that Lilica possessed to fix her gaze ahead of her instead of at her feet, like some lowly, subhuman creature. What, exactly, did you expect? She wondered, perplexed as to how she could have possibly gotten her hopes up that these people would see her in a different light, even after agreeing to fight for them. This is no different from before. I am no different from before. Let them stare; let them despise…

“Are you sleep-walking? Or did your little display this morning drain your cognitive faculties such that you no longer recognize your own name?”

“What?” Lilica left her thoughts alone to refocus on the reality before her, who judged her with pursed lips and doubting blue eyes. It appeared that she had already mastered the art of tuning out Sybelle’s cutting voice when she tired of hearing it. “I apologize. I think I have an aversion to your voice. It’s grating.” By Sybelle’s widened eyes, the dark mage was not the only one surprised that she had dared to let the words pass her lips. She half-expected another object be thrown in her direction, but the regal woman only pressed her lips together into a thin line, like she was biting them from the inside.

“Huh. Unfortunate, considering you will be working primarily with me. Are you ready to pay attention, now, or am I just wasting my time in treating you with dignity?” Sybelle waited to ascertain she had the dark mage’s attention before pushing open a single wooden door.

For a room that was approximately half the size of the one from which she had been so rudely extracted, Lilica felt enormously more at ease the moment she followed Sybelle inside. With little more than room for the bed, a desk, a wardrobe and wash basin, the enclosed space lent the impression that all it was lacking was a body to occupy it. Not like the ample space from wall to wall in that gilded cell, which suffocated more than it promoted any feeling of comfort. Space was not what she needed; simply a spot for her meagre being to exist, enclosed and safe. None of which she cared to reveal to her caustic hostess, and met Sybelle’s eager silence with silence of her own.

“Not to your liking? Honestly, I don’t know why I even deigned to bother.” The Silvanys daughter was none too pleased with a lack of acknowledgment for her efforts. If it wasn’t evident in her hiss, the grimace on her otherwise lovely face spelled it out, loud and clear. “What are your expectations, exactly? A larger suite? Perhaps I should just give up my own damned chambers to meet your—”

“Luxury in exchange for my help was not our bargain.” Lilica pivoted on her heel to face the exasperated noblewoman. “The room is fine. But what I want to know is exactly when you plan to come good on our actual agreement. You already have my cooperation; when can I expect to see yours?”

Sybelle paused, taken aback. Not from the dark one’s growing exercise in her own boldness (after all, she could not begrudge the woman what she had promised), but for the sudden intensity in her dark eyes. Lilica had not agreed to any of this out of fear for her life, but for fear of her own magic. Truly in hope that she would find the guidance and resolution that she so clearly sought, that she appeared to have been seeking for a very long time. The image of the young girl in the blizzard suddenly flickered in Sybelle’s mind, the thought inciting a similar feeling, but she was quick to push the troubling dream from her focus. “You have my word as a daughter of the House of Silvanys. To break oath would bring shame to my family’s sacred place in this kingdom… I could be exiled.” It was no exaggeration, and the fear of exile, for failing to uphold family integrity, would never perish as a possibility in her future. A fact of which she was constantly aware, from the moment she awoke every morning, to the moment she fell asleep at night. “Tomorrow; we can figure out the details then. For now, get some rest, but do expect to rise with the dawn. Nobody here will tolerate sloth. Not even for your benefit.” She offered a curt nod. “You should find suitable clothes in the wardrobe. Expect to be summoned with first light.”

With nothing more to say, Sybelle turned to leave, leaving the door open wide, footsteps receding down the corridor in a crisp, staccato rhythm. For a moment, Lilica couldn’t believe her luck: She did not shut me in under lock and key… I am not a prisoner anymore. She could not accept Sybelle’s word as truth; words were ephemeral and unstable. But actions were different, and as she closed the door, and lay her head upon the plush pillow streaked with silver moonlight, a blanket of reassurance relaxed her tense muscles. Her short-tempered captor-turned-hostess could have locked the door behind her; but she didn’t. Somehow, Sybelle trusted her not to make some ill-fated attempt to flee… Not that the dark mage was by any means obligated to return that trust, especially not after the way she had been treated thus far. But it planted a seed of hope in her otherwise empty gut that maybe, just maybe, this was the fated opportunity for which she had been yearning, for as long as she could remember. If this is the last time I must ever succumb to my magic, then I will do it. If she can ensure that it will be the last time...

As soon as she closed her eyes, Lilica was lost to a merciful, dreamless sleep.

Next Chapter: Weapon of Choice