Page 31 of Veil of Vasara (Fate of the Five #1)

CHAPTER 31- LORIA

T he Captain had been staring into space for the last minute. Nathon and I had been glancing around the hall, examining the frenzy that had ensued shortly after he had ended this young man’s life.

In less than a second, as if it were nothing.

The King on the other hand looked infinitely calm, despite the fact it was he who had suffered an attempt on his life.

The Captain was still lost in thought.

“Are you…” I began, looking at the Captain cautiously.

Nathon’s attention was drawn back to him as I spoke.

“Are you alright Captain?” I finished asking.

The Captain, who was shaken from his stupor, looked up at me, then at Nathon. “Forgive me, I must accompany the Lady back to her room.”

“Of course,” I said. “I hope that she does not suffer too much from this ordeal.” The words felt foolish as they left my lips. It was obvious this event would have shaken her. It had shaken me, and I was five years her senior.

“Thank you for your concern, Princess.” The Captain bowed, glancing at us both one last time, before making his way towards Lady Dyna.

Nathon and I stood there in silence. I knew the same thoughts were swirling around both of our minds, the same hopelessness. I still hadn’t processed the King’s announcement of his sacrifice before our movements had been taken under the sorcerer’s control.

We were both lost, like two leaves from a tree, flying through a raging storm, with nothing to latch onto.

“We should leave as well,” Nathon said.

Just as we were about to do so, Elias, who had been standing by the King, turned away and left.

Nathon caught me examining them.

“Not now, let’s just go.”

I ignored him and walked over towards the King. He was clearly startled at my approach but walked towards me in kind.

“I never had the chance to express my sorrow about your injury, Your Majesty. I hope you recover well and soon.”

The King smiled slightly and looked at my face from side to side before he spoke. “Thank you, but you need not fear Princess. I have the best healers one could hope for.”

Apart from those Dareans who had been Healers, I thought, the rarest ability of the type. They were almost extinct now it was said. In fact some declared they already were.

The King noticed my silence. “What are you thinking about?” His voice dropped in volume, it almost sounded as if he were asking the question to himself.

“Apologies, Your Majesty, nothing of importance.”

“Indulge me. It has been a trying day.”

I couldn’t help but feel suddenly aware of the strangeness of this scene. The noise from the crowd still hadn’t dissipated, all around us were signs of death, fear, and panic. I was still standing on the altar where blood was spreading at an ever-increasing rate.

And yet here I was, exchanging conversation with the now King, as if we were strolling through the Palace Gardens.

It was absurd. I knew.

I tried to invent an alternate thought. I wasn’t sure my original one would be appreciated.

“Princess?” he interrupted my attempts.

I looked at his feet as I replied. “I was thinking about those who can heal with sorcery, Your Majesty, when you mentioned your healers. About how it is said there are almost no sorcerers left alive with that ability now.”

There was a pause. I waited in anticipation.

“You were thinking about sorcerers?” he said quietly.

My stomach sank. I knew about this Kingdom’s stance on sorcery, on the King’s.

“I…it was only…” I could hear the anxiety laced in my tone. I was still looking at the King’s legs.

“True,” he finished my sentence. “It is true there are hardly any Darean Healers left in Athlion. It is said they could heal almost any ailment of the body or mind.”

“It seems a shame,” I said quietly, as if I was afraid of my own thoughts. “They could have saved a great many people.”

“Sorcerers have also ended the lives of a great many people.”

I looked at him then, not because I wanted to, but because I could hear him approaching me more closely.

“So have humans, it…can be said, in truth…” I spoke more quietly.

My answer was clumsy, tripping on my tongue. To have grown so long, stifling thoughts that slipped into my mind, only to say them aloud in Eliel’s presence now. It felt like falling. The words I uttered were feeble and weak, as if their edges were jagged, not ready for speech. As if they were withered and dusted from having been suppressed in the corners of my mind too many times. How to articulate my true thoughts, how to indulge Eliel in them, was a mystery to me. And yet, with him, I was compelled to try. I didn’t know what it was, what came over me when he was close. Of all the people I should filter my thoughts and words around, it should be him. But it was that gaze, and his presence, it was as if they lured honesty from my mouth.

I’d been seized so long by an urgent terror. One of my own voice.

But another slumbered underneath. Quieter, yet more insidious.

The one of remaining silent.

And Eliel drew it from the depths of my chest, brought it to the surface like a bone breaking through flesh.

Let him hear my distorted attempts. Perhaps he would be able to decipher the meaning in them, with that gaze. A gaze that was not jagged, or rough. Not ugly or dark. But radiant, practiced and assured. Ready to draw the hideous from anyone. Ready to see it whole. Devour it. Indulge in it.

Were there really people who could not only see such parts in someone, but delight in them as well?

“Humans like your brother?” Eliel’s hushed voice drew me back to the present.

I looked over his shoulder, unable to meet his eyes. “I…Yes. Like him.”

“You do not seem to mind when he kills.” I could feel him looking at me, demanding I look at him.

I didn’t reply.

“Would you forgive the sorcerers for their crimes, the way that you forgive him?”

I couldn’t tell him I did not forgive my brother, that I couldn’t stand to think of his deeds, that I loathed the very thought of his actions.

Would you condemn him the way you condemn the sorcerers? Was what I wanted to say.

And what was he implying? That the sorcerers should be forgiven? That Nathon should be condemned? Every word that came out of his lips was like a puzzle I could not solve.

“Do you believe that I should?” I asked.

“I am more interested in what you believe.”

I turned to him. “I believe that you accuse me of something all Five Kingdoms are guilty of, Your Majesty. For better… or for worse.”

“Which is it?” He moved in slightly closer. “Better or worse?”

“I—"

Nathon’s palm was on my upper back.

“Excuse us, Your Majesty. Congratulations on your coronation and surviving such a horrifying assassination attempt.”

The King backed away from me slightly and peered at my brother.

“It will be the first of many, I’m sure,” he replied.

“If you need my services to end any of their lives, please send word.”

“Thank you.” The King tilted his head forwards. “I will be sure to remember that.”

Nathon bowed, I curtsied, and he led me out of the hall.

I had expected we would walk to our chambers, instead, Nathon led me to the West Wing, through various floors, corridors, and walkways until we reached an alcove, on a high floor. It was overlooking Iloris, Vasara’s capital, and supported by white pillars. It was simply a fairly small semi – circle overhanging off the side of the Palace. There were no railings or gates preventing someone from falling to their death. The floor was marble and painted with golden and amber symbols of the sun, fire, chimeras, and the stars.

“Think you’ll be able to remember the way?” Nathon asked me, his arms crossed.

“I…this is the place you’ve chosen?”

“It’s perfect, there are only two of these in the whole Palace, one is here, next to the library. The other is also in the West Wing, but that’s next to the weapons hall, which is far more heavily guarded. Nobody likes to come here since it’s awkward and difficult to access and far too many people have fallen from this height.” Nathon looked at the ground. “It’s no wonder, it’s tiny.”

“I’ll…remember.” I wasn’t even sure it was true.

I didn’t even know what to say, or where to begin.

“What will we do now?” I muttered.

“I’ll have to let Mathias know and—"

“Mathias? Mathias is here?”

Nathon grimaced and squeezed his eyes shut. He had obviously intended to keep that information from me.

“You won’t need to deal with him, don’t worry.”

“But you will.”

“I can handle him.”

I hadn’t been around the Citadel very much as a child, I had tried my best to stay away. As much as that had made me unaware of certain events, and a target of great scrutiny, it hadn’t made me oblivious. I had seen and heard Mathias’ attitude towards my brother, towards the other young men and boys who had been around the Citadel, working within its walls, or for my father’s armies.

Nathon interrupted my thoughts. “I’ll let him know and I’m sure we’ll receive word about any changes to the plan quickly.”

“How? How can this plan be changed?” I protested.

“Just proceed with what you’re doing for now. Asking the King if he was well was a good idea." He smiled at me slightly.

“You were the one who saved his life.”

“Which may turn out, was a complete waste of my time, if I’m about to be instructed to end it.”

“But it helps us, doesn’t it? For now. He may be inclined to trust us more.”

Nathon let out a tired chuckle and shook his head. “No, that man isn’t the trusting kind.”

“How did you even do that?” I said, a touch of melancholy to my tone.

“Do what? You mean kill him?”

“You only had the shortest amount of time to—"

“Does it matter how?” he asked.

“I suppose not.” My fingers found their way through the ends of my hair.

“I’m going to find the cousin.”

“What? Why?”

“I want to get closer to him. I think he knew about this sacrifice.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Many reasons. But if I’m right, I might be able to get it out of him since he’s drunk most of the time.”

Although he was indeed drunk for a large amount of time, the King’s cousin didn’t strike me as someone who was easy to manipulate. If that was my assumption, then Nathon surely had already come to the same conclusion.

Which meant that once again, he was hiding his true intentions.

“Is that what you’re doing with the Captain too?”

Nathon looked confused, spinning his head around from the view to my face. “What?”

“You seem…close to him as well.”

Nathon sighed. “The Captain and I have an understanding.”

“About what?”

Nathon was silent.

“You never tell me anything.”

“There are some things you are better off not knowing.”

“Is this one of them?”

“The Captain wants something from me. I’ve agreed to give it to him, but… I’m still deciding on what I’ll ask for in return.”

Nathon sounded completely relaxed about this agreement, but I couldn’t fathom how the Captain wanting something from him meant anything good.

“What is it he wants?”

“Something trivial. It’s not going to affect us in any way.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. But the Captain himself…I’m not so sure of.”

“In what sense?” I moved slightly closer to the view, to Nathon.

“In the sense that, out of everyone in that hall, he was the only person who came over to examine that body. As well as you, of course.” He pointed at me. “He’s curious, he’s wary. Jurasa’s escort looked as if he were about to empty his stomach contents. Vasara’s was utterly useless, and Zeima’s was too busy comforting her lover.”

“Lover?”

“Ahh yes, I forgot to mention that.”

Zeima’s escort is Rhana’s lover? Her partner?

“How did you find out?”

“I used my eyes.”

I rolled mine. “How’s your wound?” I had given Nathon the balm I’d spoken of yesterday morning.

“It’s healed.”

I scoffed. “It’s not possible a wound like that could heal so fast.”

“By my standards, it’s healed.”

This was a pointless topic of conversation to pursue.

“You’re getting close to the cousin, the Captain, and you’re conferring with Mathias, there must be something else I can do.”

“No, Loria. That’s the whole purpose of my accompanying you here.” He took a step closer towards me. “It’s your job to remain unsuspicious. If you really want to help, then just be that.”

A scream scratched at my brain, inside my chest, inside my limbs. I was not doing my part. Sarlan would not be pleased. Then another thought pierced through my fragmented mind. Is that what Nathon wanted? To take the credit for our possible victory here himself? I didn’t want such credit, but I wanted…no, I needed to know I could account for my role here. That I could prove my utility to my father. That I could say for sure I had carefully considered every step. That I had done enough.

After waiting for a reply I did not provide, Nathon took several steps back.

And with one hand on the left outer wall, he jumped off the edge of the alcove.

I ran to its edge, glancing down. He had landed on a jutted-out window ledge below us. He leapt to another, then another. Further down, down, and down.

And though I was the one of us standing still.

It felt I was the one sinking.