3

For all it might have been imprisonment, Lilica could not deny that the trouble that had found her in this foreign land was treating her better than her freedom ever had.

The blonde-haired bitch had been right: which she might not have fought death tooth and nail, had finding a suitable end to her life been a goal, then she’d already had ample opportunity to reach it. Simultaneously, self-preservation did not quite hold up to her determination to avoid the magic that festered inside of her like an infection, leaving her only with the option to bide her time and decide what to do when she was called upon once again. So the dark one took that time to pass hours and hours asleep in a bed that was bigger and more comfortable than anything she had ever slept upon. In-between those periods where she chose to lose herself in a land of blissful dreamlessness, the cutting pains in her stomach finally convinced her to take the meals left for her, finer than she had ever eaten. Her captors wouldn’t kill her; they had no reason, if they could neither confirm whether she was a help or a threat, and it led her to wonder for just a moment how long she could delay this moment in time. To eat good food and sleep her life away and, for once, not worry about being directly in death’s unwavering path, or the bringer of death itself…

What a sorry existence you lead, she thought to herself as she stared at the marbled designs on the ceiling from where she lay, horizontal, on her plush bed. And yet, guilt was nowhere near her primary sentiment. Not when this distracted ease of mind came so seldom that she couldn’t help but wonder if all of this, in itself, was naught but a strange and twisted dream…

If that was the case, then she awoke from it the second the door to her gilded cage swung open, and in stepped her haughty captor with the fierce blue eyes. This time, she was flanked by two men armed with lances. It made Lilica want to scoff; what did they think she would do? Leap at the regal blonde and tears her eyes out with her fingernails, bound as her magic was by the shackles about her wrists?

“You’ve had ample time to rest, to heal, and to nourish yourself.” Sybelle announced, her tone suggesting no room for argument or protest. “Don’t deign to pretend like you have not thrived in our care; I’ve done you’re a favour, and now you will do me one.”

Lilica was at no shortage of retorts, and her captor’s no-nonsense audacity practically begged for further argument. But their previous conversation stayed her tongue, combined with a curious look in the taller woman’s fierce eyes. For behind the ferocity, that piercing icicle azure, was, unmistakable, trepidation. Fear. Because she had a lot riding on the dark mage’s cooperation, perhaps even more than she let on during their brief and heated discussions. Not to mention, that allusion she’d made to a potentially symbiotic relationship… Might this entitled princess of fire and ice really be able to offer what I have hoped for? She certainly seemed to think she had those answers. And Lilica, truly, had nothing to lose.

Without a word, she rose from her bed and moved to her feet. The sharp pain from her once-infected leg was null and void, and only a scar remained in its memory. This must be what her regal jailer had meant by ‘thriving’. “Only if you promise not to throw decorative pottery at my head—or anything else, for that matter,” she said at last, stepping up to Sybelle without fear.

“Don’t give me reason to hurl objects at you, and I will ponder that promise.” Came Sybelle’s reply, as she escorted Lilica into the corridor. It should have stung with acidity and cut with a serrated edge, as per her predictable tone, but it was too unhinged with uncertainty. Sybelle herself was more rigid than her darkness-wielding captor, practically vibrating nervous energy. Lilica didn’t know whether to be reassured, or more unsettled by that fact.

With the guards leading and trailing, yet leaving enough distance between themselves and the two women that suggested they’d rather not veer to close to the captive, Lilica kept her eyes ahead of her but lowered her voice. “You’re concerned. Afraid that I either won’t come through for you, or that I can’t… Afraid that I am as useless as I look.”

“I thought,” Sybelle seethed in quiet frustration, without acknowledging her challenger with a look, “that you weren’t going to give me further reason to propel hard objects in your general direction.”

“And what if I am?” Lilica ignored her comment. “What if I embarrass you? Make you look like a fool for investing any faith in what I can do for you or anyone else? You don’t know what I am capable of; it could be severely below your heightened expectations.”

Finally, the taller woman dignified the snide dark mage with a sidelong look. “You could. All of that is possible. So let us hope that it does not come to pass.” Pressing her lips into a line, Sybelle exhaled slowly through her nose, arms like rigid poles at her side. “I am trying to make this beneficial for the both of us. Any failure on your part will only be for lack of trying; because if what you are capable of were anywhere near below my expectations, I have a hunch your compliance in this matter would be considerably less willing.”

With no contrary point to argue, Lilica did not reply.

The transition from her holding chamber with its single window to a corridor that sported more windows than wall space was difficult enough for the dark one’s eyes. That, however, was nothing compared to the room where she was led next, a dome-like chamber with windows that climbed from floor to ceiling, with a prismatic effect that seemed to reflect and amplify sunlight at every possible angle. Unprepared, Lilica brought raised her arm to shield her eyes, which warranted snickers and snide comments from culprits she could not see: “She can’t handle the light? How fitting for a wielder of darkness.” “Looks as if she is afraid of turning to ash.” “Do not be fooled, it could be but an act—she seems the dangerous sort.”

“And we haven’t even begun…” Frustrated (yet unsurprised), Sybelle brought a hand to her temple. She had yet to speak a word on her part or on Lilica’s, and already this audience before the Council was taking a disheartening turn.

“Gentlemen! We will have order in this council chamber. Do save your breath for more fruitful discussion.” To the Silvanys woman’s great relief, Sidayne rose from his seat next to his father towards the front of the room and placed both hands upon the table in front of him. The room fell silent; perhaps it was too early to deem this all a lost cause.

The elder man sitting upon a high-backed, ornate chair, who looked a calmer and more wizened version of the one who had just spoken, raised a hand halfway. “Thank you, my son. Please take a seat.” Pausing long enough for Sidayne to comply, he took his time in turning his attention to Sybelle, who stood just a few paces in front of the tiny, dark-haired woman with shackled wrists. The Silvanys daughter felt her heart race the moment that placid, enigmatic gaze fell upon her. “We, myself and the Council, are present to hear you out, Sybelle Silvanys. It is my understanding that you are in favour of not only protecting this prisoner that our men apprehended in the dead of night, but that she could be of great value to us. Do elaborate, and inform us on how you are so certain that she will work with, and not against us.”

“Your Majesty; your Highness.” Sybelle addressed the king and his son in turn with a shallow bow. Beneath the drape of her skirts, her knees felt far less stable than usual. “There is no argument that East Amaijah has been left vulnerable since the exodus of the House of Syxer and those who chose to follow Falna. We suffer a deficit of offenses, and have only been able to rely on the alchemical advances of the House of Auret, and the foresight and divinations of the House of Valcourt, leaving my family—The House of Silvanys—to tend to our wounded. But I believe… fate has finally dealt us a trump card, in the form of this woman.” She passed a passive glance over her shoulder to the dark maze. Lilica returned it with an impassive stare. “This woman is adept in channeling and commanding the dark energies that surround us—which is something that Falna Syxer and his following do not have. He thinks us defenseless, and will not be expecting the skills of someone with power of her magnitude.”

The councilman representing the House of Auret cleared his throat from where he sat at the extensive horseshoe-shaped table. “Pardon me, Miss Silvanys, but have you witnessed first-hand this prisoner’s potential as your claim suggests?”

“And how, sir, might I have done that when she has been shackled from using her own magic since she was captured?” Sybelle’s rapid heartbeat jumped from her chest to her ever-warming face. “The sentries who apprehended her have provided very consistent, very vivid accounts of what they have seen. I have brought the prisoner here today so that we may all see for ourselves what she can offer. If his Majesty deems that she is as great an asset as I believe, then I have offered her protection, and welcome in East Amaijah; to lift her status as a prisoner and have her work alongside me and the other notable Houses of Amaijah.” Not the most refined truth, perhaps, but she trusted the dark one knew better to contradict her when everything she spoke was, at least in part, on her behalf. “And, if his Majesty decides otherwise… then, of course, I turn the decision-making over to him and his trusted council.”

Sitting in the seat reserved for the House of Silvanys, to fill her place, Kian Silvanys’s hands were clenched into fists before him. Whether for the fact that his seat was only temporary, and hers a more permanent fixture, or because she had managed to augment the importance of her case such that she had earned an audience with his Majesty King Hesael Cilithiel, was unclear. Sybelle half-expected him to speak out against her, to insist her claims were preposterous, that this was all a waste of time, but he knew better to convey any intra-House disagreement before the Council. Any credibility that he extinguished with regard to his sister was credibility that he likewise forfeited; and he, for one, was loathe to be responsible for his family’s fall from nobility. Sybelle could not help but feel a begrudging gratitude for his silence.

“What is your name?” As if forgetting that Sybelle was standing in front of her, instead seeing through her like an unblemished sheet of ice, his Majesty turned his wizened gaze on Lilica. “And are you in agreement to these terms?”

For whatever reason, it had not occurred to Lilica that she would be subject to speaking at all. It thus took effort to lower her tongue from the dry roof of her mouth and ready it to articulate something meaningful. This was, after all, not her damned scheme. So she said simply, “Compared to the proposed alternative? I agree.” That, and if the haughty blonde kept her word regarding the heart of what their arrangement entailed. “And my name is Lilica.”

His Majesty King Hesael gave a shallow nod. “Very well. Lord Apowen Auret, please remove the shackles that your family crafted from the young woman’s wrists.”

“Your Majesty,” The representative of the House of Valcourt not only mirrored the Auret representative’s concern, but amplified it in his boldness, rising from his seat. “I cannot keep silent on this matter any longer—for surely you realize, if this prisoner is all that the Silvanys woman claims her to be, then removing those shackles will put you in danger. It could put all of us in danger.”

“I do share in this concern, Your Majesty,” Apowen Auret rubbed his brow, avoiding the King’s gaze. His reluctance to comply could not have been clearer.

“Your Majesty. If I may speak outright.” Sybelle’s rage and apprehension were barely contained. Lilica could see the back of the woman’s neck begin to turn red from where her hair parted to rest over either shoulder. “I understand that you and your esteemed Council obviously are not here to accept my claims without evidence… But if no one here is willing to witness it for themselves, then I do not understand why I stand before you, at all.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Sybelle could see the change in her brother’s complexion, blushing a red that bespoke premature embarrassment for his sister, for the situation. She could feel Lilica’s eyes on her, likely judging just as harshly as Kian. All of my credibility as a Silvanys and a Council representative for my family is going to unravel before I’ve even had the chance to prove myself.

“Sirs, Father; Lady Sybelle is right to her assertion.” Once again, she had Sidayne to thank for redirecting the discussion. Grateful though she was, the fact that Amaijah’s crown prince needed to speak on her behalf just so that she could be heard did little to quiet the rage burning beneath her skin.

Sybelle Silvanys was not standing before her reigning monarch to be spoken for.

“Lord Apowen.” Chin held high, she nodded at the reluctant councilman. “If you please. I can assure you that Miss Lilica is already acutely aware of the dire consequences, should she mean to harm anyone in this room the second she can access her magic again.”

The Auret representative slowly made his way to the middle of the room where Lilica stood, framed on either side by the guards who had accompanied her from her ornate holding cell. “Your wrists, if you please,” he spoke in a sigh, gaze pointed down at the shackles instead of her face. The man clearly was not one for eye contact.

Lilica complied and held out both wrists, only mildly fascinated by the way the thin shackles glowed as he swiped the back of an ornate ring on his index finger across the cool metal. They slid from her hands as if they had never properly fit, clattering tin-like to the ground. Perhaps it was due to the trepidation that had begun to blossom in her chest, but her head curiously began to ache when she felt a familiar tingle at her fingertips; a surge of the power from which she had been temporarily severed. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling, but rather one akin to the ache of frostbitten hands hovering over hot flame.

Amaijah’s ruling monarch lifted and extended his hand towards the dark mage. “Lilica, is it? You may proceed, but bearing in mind the safety of those assembled here. I am eager to see why Lady Sybelle is so convinced you might be an asset to us.”

Precisely the words she had feared. Every pair of eyes in the room fell upon Lilica, so intense she could almost feel herself shrink under the weight of their anticipation. I am not an asset, you idiots… I am a danger. Her head ached; her hands ached. It wouldn’t take much concentration to dip into the well of power that had been trapped beneath the silent will of those shackles, and that was far from what concerned her right now. They want the all of the power and none of the danger… I can’t give them that. It is impossible. Perhaps if she tested the waters, gave in to that tingling in her hands ever so slightly… just a taste, and maybe, just maybe, it would not bloom beyond her control. Maybe a small demonstration, a trick or two, enough to prove her credibility…

Why am I even pretending like this is possible? It isn’t worth the risk.

“Miss Lilica. Whenever it pleases you.” His Majesty, King Hesael, raised a hand, beckoning the dark mage to proceed. “The council is waiting.”

“I…” Her tongue felt dry, and her throat grew tighter. She could feel every gaze in the room boring into her skin and raising her core temperature. “…sorry. I can’t.”

“What was that? Do you mind speaking up?” The Valcourt representative on the King’s council leaned forward in his seat, eager to make a point. “She can’t. That is what you just said, is it not?”

Lilica felt her cheeks burn. She closed her eyes to shut out the room and its malice. “I’m sorry.”

“What do you think you are doing?” Sybelle’s hiss cut Lilica down to the bone, but she could not answer the regal woman. No excuse or explanation would suffice.

Not when it put Sybelle Silvanys on the spot as the subject of fraud. “Lady Sybelle,” Amaijah’s king heaved a heavy sigh, and with seeming reluctance, turned his disappointed gaze on Sybelle. “You are a valued subject here, at this court, and have always come through for us before. But I had truly believed you had something to show us with certainty; not a hopeful gamble.”

“But it wasn’t… it isn’t a gamble. You.” Standing nose to nose with the dark one, there was more desperation in those sharp, azure eyes than ire. “What do you mean you can’t? You cannot mean to wish your own demise… What do we need to do to make this possible? Please, tell me!”

But Lilica knew well that there was nothing she could tell her that she would expect. Holding a steady, stoic gaze, she told her at last, in a tone only audible between the two of them, “It is not worth the risk. I’m sorry, but I cannot help you.”

The king raised a hand halfway. “Your promised asset, for whatever reason, does not appear to wish to demonstrate her skills, Lady Sybelle. We cannot force her to do so, and I cannot simply take your word for it when Miss Lilica exhibits such reluctance. Perhaps it is best that we lay this possibility to rest, and move on to more feasible and accessible means of defending East Amaijah against the Syxer threat. We will, of course, continue to welcome any further input on the matter that you might have to offer.” Even Sidayne, always so apt to jump to come to Sybelle’s defense, appeared uncertain and at a loss. The subtle lines across his face might even have been carved by pity; it was almost enough to make Sybelle resent him.

“I beg you to wait, your Majesty. She tells me that she is not comfortable exhibiting her magic here; it is too dangerous in a contained chamber, such as this.” Whether or not she had interpreted Lilica’s hesitation correctly did not matter to Sybelle; what mattered was that she was sure of this decision, of herself, albeit she could not describe why beyond a strong gut feeling. And she would not be made to look like a fool. “Let us take this elsewhere, where it is less likely to put anyone at risk—”

“Leave it be, Sybelle.” Kian finally stood, his face flushed with mortification on her behalf. “Believe me, you have already done enough, as it is.”

“Shall we consider this meeting adjourned, then, your Majesty?” The eager Auret representative inquired, wringing his hands with an eagerness to leave.

“Please say that it is so. This woman has wasted enough of our time as it stands,” added the Valcourt representative. “Not to mention has falsely gotten your hopes up.”

“Perhaps,” Prince Sidayne Cilithiel sighed, looking from Sybelle to his father, and back again, “it would be best to adjourn. But thank you, Sybelle, for thinking first and foremost about the safety of East Amaijah.”

And all the while, with every consecutive word spoken, Sybelle Silvanys wilted, more and more, a little bit at a time. Lilica could see it happening, like the hastened death of a flower deprived of sun and water. The fierce woman with striking azure eyes was being crushed not only over the brittle crutch of her fractured pride, but over these people—her people’s—complete and utter lack of faith in her. It was clear that the lot of them had hardly wished to allot her this chance to speak up in the first place, and were all to quick to shut her down and silence her. To call her a liar all because the object of their attention refused to jump on command.

She shouldn’t care. On any other occasion, under any other circumstances, she would not have. And as to just what bit at her conscience now, seeing someone else undeservingly accept the consequences of her lack of compliance when it shouldn’t have mattered… She was at a loss for an explanation.

But all it took was that small spark of anger, the repulsion that she felt for these people jumping at the chance to devalue and degrade someone who was without a doubt loyal to their cause, to stir that poison in her veins that yearned, always yearned, for an outlet.

It all happened before she could think to stop it. That burning in her chest, in her fingertips, now unhindered by enchanted shackles, sensed the hatred welling in her chest for this council, and the monarch at the heart of it. It sensed it, and it acted on it.

The gauzy green curtains framing each massive window were the first to feel the heat of everything that Lilica had feared and intended to hold back. Smoke manifested at the hemlines first, but the disturbance went unnoticed until the deep indigo fire followed, growing with the light that it absorbed from the morning sun. Sucking it in like a vacuum, and consequently darkening the gaudy chamber to the point where it resembled dusk, instead of mere hours after dawn.

That was more than enough to draw the room’s attention from a withering Sybelle to more important matters. “What is this? Who is responsible?” King Hesael rose from his high-backed chair, one hand gripping his son’s arm, as if to either pull him away from the danger or to hide behind him; his motivation was not evident.

“Move—quick, out of the way, you idiots!” The coucil’s Valcourt representative forced his way past representative Auret and Kian Sivanys, but not without grabbing them by the sleeves. “Look! It isn’t burning, it’s… it is devouring!”

He was not wrong. As the dark fire ate its way up the curtains, the bits of ruined textile that fell upon the table below not only continued to burn, but to… spread. Toxic ebony spidering outward like the visual manifestation of some highly contagious disease, turning the rich mahogany to sickly gray, to slate, to black… Black, that absorbed the light, and who knew what else, should skin come into contact…

Sybelle, awestruck, remained rooted to where she stood as she watched the chaos and panic unfold. The guards at the door rushing to assist the king and ascertain he and his son were and remained unharmed, the council members tripping over one another as the indigo flames and the lack of light it left in its wake consumed the council chamber, inch by inch.

She knew what it was; and she knew who was responsible.

“Stop.” Turning on her heel, she faced Lilica, her voice low and deliberate. “They’ve seen enough; if this is your spell, then call it off, before someone is injured.”

The dark mage betrayed no emotion, and despite her reluctance to exhibit this deadly trick to begin with, made no claim to deny it. “I can’t.”

“What it all hells do you mean, you can’t? I am not giving you an option, here!”

“It isn’t a spell, and I cannot stop it. It is… it just is what it is. Its own life, own entity.” Lilica pressed her lips together and shook her head. “It will stop when it sees fit. I told you it was not worth the risk.”

“What? Then what is going to happen?” Suddenly frantic, she returned her attention to the frightened councilmen, to Sidayne who eagerly kept his father out of the line of fire, of her brother and the other two men who hesitated to leave the room because the flame had reached the doorframe, and inky darkness had begun to drip from the very top. What have I done? To what have I condemned every single person in this room…?

It must have come down to pure luck that something let go inside of Lilica before the mass panic could peak. Though through no will of her own, that part of her that served as a conduit for the deadly fire assailing the council chamber unfurled like a fist relaxing into loose fingers, and the indigo flames extinguished like a candle choked from its source of oxygen. The spidering wickedness came to a halt, as did the inky droplets of soulless void from charred surfaces. The danger had passed, and the councilmen were, this time around, quick to take notice of the change.

And even quicker to act on it. “Seize her,” Sidayne commanded the guards who had escorted Lilica and Sybelle to the council chamber. “The dark one. This was your doing, was it not? I do not care what you are capable of, you will not endanger the ruling monarch of this empire!”

“Wait, Sidayne!” Sybelle stepped up to the king’s son, her throat tight with stifling betrayal as Lilica was apprehended in seconds, diminished by the mass of the men on either side of her.

“Forgive me, Sybelle, but I cannot have my father put at risk.” Remorse was evident in the prince’s tone. He couldn’t meet her eyes. “Please try to understand.”

“What I understand is that you are a hypocrite. The lot of you… you are all hypocrites.” A bold accusation for anyone to make with the king present, even one hailing from one of Amaijah’s four noble families. But as soon as she saw the guilt play across the faces of the councilmen, the guards and especially Sidayne, Sybelle knew that she was right. “This was what you wanted, was it not? I claimed to bring you a weapon that Falna Syxer does not have; you demanded proof. Now you have your proof, and you do not know what to do with it. This woman,” she pointed to Lilica, “did only what she was asked. Perhaps there wouldn’t have been reason to panic if my suggestion to take this to a different location had been heeded.”

As she had expected, some were less than happy with the accusation. “How dare you speak in such a manner in front of your king?” The councilman from the House of Valcourt demanded. “Especially when you, yourself, so oft sit upon this very council?”

“Enough. Lady Sybelle has made her point; and… abrasive, though it might be, it is one that I cannot argue.” King Hesael himself, much to Sybelle’s surprise, validated her stand and took a step away from his son, towards her. “Sybelle Silvanys has, in fact, brought us something—someone—to which our enemies do not have access. It is I who requested proof, and I am willing to accept the consequences as such. Lady Sybelle, on behalf of this council, please accept my apology for dismissing you all too quickly.”

“But your Majesty… How can we be so sure that it is safe to assume this dark magician will not use her sinister gifts against us?” The Auret representative’s voice trembled with his concern. King Hesael returned it with a ghost of a smile.

“I have the utmost faith that Lady Sybelle will see that no harm comes to any of us. And Miss Lilica…” The king’s deep-set eyes fixed on the diminutive outsider, whom the guards had yet to release from their vicelike grips. “I welcome you, here, and rest assured that we do not take for granted what you have to offer us. It is my only wish that you do not take for granted our trust and hospitality, in return.”

If your idea of a welcome is to put someone in shackles, incarcerate them, and force them to act against their will, then I think I shall pass on the offer, Lilica desperately wanted to articulate. But she was not fool enough to press her luck, given the ruined state of the otherwise ruined state of the council chamber, and not to mention endangering the ruling monarch of this particular empire. So she remained silent, and deferred any further words to Sybelle, who evidently had far more experience in playing this game than she did.

As if through silent understanding, the noblewoman bowed low, as if to conclude the discussion. “Your Majesty. Your Highness. Esteemed members of the council. I thank you all for this opportunity. I shall work with Lilica, and keep you informed every step of the way.”

“Of course, Lady Sybelle,” the king nodded, shallow and terse. “And see that you do.”

Next Chapter: Familiar