Page 8 of Veil of Vasara (Fate of the Five #1)

CHAPTER 8 - ELIEL

“D id you find Gwin?”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Jarian said, as we turned the corner, where Gwin was standing, her head meekly bowed.

“Gwin,” I started. “Please can you find some cloaks, or a similar garment that can cover a person’s whole body and bring them to Princess Loria when you have found them. Give her a few to choose from.” I turned away from her.

“Her size, Your Highness?” she called out after me.

I stopped, startled, and threw her a quizzical look. There was no way I could know such information.

Gwin’s face turned red, “I’m sorry, Your Highness. Of course, I will bring her different sizes and—"

“She’s rather short,” I added, trying to ease the dread I had unintentionally filled the serving girl with.

“Thank you, Your Highness.” She curtsied and hurried down the hall.

Jarian and I continued walking. He looked at me with an unmistakable question as to whether he could speak.

“Yes Jarian.”

“Your Highness if I may. The Albarsans of Audra, they seem rather—" he faltered.

“Go on,” I said, as I walked in front of him.

“Impudent,” he finished.

“And?”

Jarian became flustered. “And, Your Highness, I do not believe they respect the traditions here, nor the ceremony itself. It has long been rumoured the Prince is a –”

“Yes, I have heard the rumours, Jarian. I prefer to decide about people for myself, rather than let the distorted rumours of others do so for me.”

“Of course, Your Highness. One should not believe everything one hears. It is only that they seem…troublesome.”

I paused to face him. “I am quite aware of their nature since I am perfectly capable of observation.”

“I never meant to suggest otherwise, Your Highness.”

I sighed. I knew Jarian was only doing what he felt was best, warning me about people he perceived to be dangerous.

Still, I said, “I know that, Jarian. I am thankful for your dedication to my safety. But I prefer to judge a person based on their actions and not their reputation. It is often those who hide behind smiles, platitudes and prestige that have the darkest secrets to hide, in fact.”

Jarian, silent in thought for a moment, said, “Indeed, you are wise beyond your years, Your Highness.”

And yet, despite his many, he was still oblivious. True evil was not ugly, but a beautiful smile when light was shed upon its face, disappearing in the dark.

Nevertheless, I could not say I wholly disagreed with Jarian’s assessment. The presence of Audra’s Prince puzzled me. It irked me that I was unaware of the reasoning behind it.

“Have they been gathered?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Let us do this now,” I said.

Jarian made a noise that indicated he agreed with me.

We were on our way to speak to the Vessels. The Vessels Palace Security had deemed suspicious enough to be brought to my attention, to be questioned more thoroughly in relation to the death of my parents.

I had no plan as we strolled towards the Northern Wing and up to the quarters where the Vessels were kept. I did not know how I would seek to retrieve information from them. I was in essence, completely unprepared for what I might face.

The Northern Wing was large, but the heavy presence of its overseers left it feeling much smaller. The Vessels that walked past us did not hide the disdain in their eyes as they glanced in our direction. Each of them wore a chain, fashioned as an ornate choker, anklet, or bracelet, which prevented them from using their powers to escape.

We allowed the Vessels to traverse the whole of the Northern Wing, both what was in and around it, but it was an illusionary freedom. If they ventured even one metre away from these designated areas, they were captured or executed on site.

We were getting closer to the transfer chamber, where the Vessels were drained of their magical cores on a daily basis. It was located to the left of the main walkway, which we were currently strolling down, to the right of which was a small, and modest courtyard. A small fountain and some benches were deposited throughout its cobblestoned paths. Several Vessels were currently undergoing a transfer, their sorcery seeping into the manacles and devices they were attached or strapped to. Some stared into the distance with a blank expression, some winced uncomfortably. I had heard that depending on the ability of the wielder, the transfer could range from painless to excruciating.

We eventually made our way to the chamber room, which was at the end of the walkway. The wooden floors and panelled walls were a pale, sand colour. The furnishings that had been inside had been removed for the purposes of our visit, leaving only two wooden chairs by the far-right window, and a small table, with a vase on it.

Standing in the centre of the room, cuffed, and surrounded by several overseers, were three wielders. A man, and two women.

The man’s eyes burnt with an expression that told me he was determined to approach me before he even took his first step. Jarian, of course, did not notice.

The man took several broad strides in my direction, and before Jarian could draw his blade, the man spat at me. Several of the Palace workers, and overseers of the Wing grabbed him, drawing him away. His saliva had landed on the bottom of my chin, I had my height to thank for the fact it had not landed in my eyes.

He must have been around my age, I noticed, as I peered at the young man it had taken four others to subdue.

I stepped closer to him.

“Your Highness, I –” Jarian intervened.

I lifted my hand to indicate he should remain behind me.

“What is your name?” I asked the man.

He looked at me as if I had asked him which way he would prefer to be executed.

“They took my name. You took my name.”

I furrowed my brows slightly, baffled by his statement.

The man laughed, but it was a rueful laugh, full of sorrow.

I squinted to indicate I was waiting for him to explain.

“Our powers are tied to us. Once we start to lose them, we start to lose ourselves. We forget things, we –”

“Stop,” one of the women protested.

“No,” the man argued, turning over his shoulder to look at her. “He should know. He should know what he does. What his kind do.” There was so much resentment in his tone, so much hatred.

“Your Highness…please spare him.” The woman got on her knees. Despair coloured her voice with a quiver. She was clutching her hands together. “He is…we had nothing to do with the King and Queen. We would never do such a thing.”

“Silence woman!” one of the overseers heaved her up, gripping at her forearm forcefully.

I looked at the overseer. He was like many other people in this Palace, enamoured by their position, believing it gave them the right to act in whichever way they saw fit.

“Why have you brought me these three?” I asked him.

“They were sick, Your Highness, or so they say, at the time of your parents’ deaths. They were excused from their duties and confined to their rooms. Nobody saw them for days.”

“Nobody?” I asked, “Did they not receive food and water?”

“Yes, Your Highness, but we leave their meals at the door when they are unwell and possibly…infected.”

“And did their food and water remain untouched?”

“At times, Your Highness.”

“And the other times?”

The overseer looked uneasy. “It was simply a strange coincidence to me, Your Highness.”

“It wasn’t a coincidence,” the male wielder argued. “We were sick, the drainings make it easier for us to fall ill.” He looked at me directly. Even people who were my supposed allies did not do that, they actively avoided my eyes. I almost admired him.

I walked towards one of the overseers, and swiftly drew a silk handkerchief from his tunic, using it to wipe the saliva off my chin.

“How are you now?” I asked the man.

He seemed to grow increasingly confused each time I spoke.

“Don’t pretend you care about our welfare.”

“I do, our Vessels are vital.”

“Of course,” he scoffed. “Dead slaves aren’t as useful as live ones.”

The second woman was silent, her dark amber hair had fallen over her face, which was directed towards the ground.

“We are well, Your Highness,” the first woman said.

“I am glad.” I was.

The man shook his head, clearly indicating he disbelieved me.

“You’ve heard of the resistance, I assume?” I looked at the three wielders.

“Yes…yes, Your Highness but we know nothing of them. We have only heard some stories,” the first woman replied.

“Which stories?”

“Faina,” the man warned her, glaring at her with frustration.

“Is there someone you are protecting young man?” I asked.

He looked me in the eyes again. “If there’s even the slightest chance there are people like us in the world, living without a chain around their necks, then I want no part in bringing them to heel.”

I took a step towards him. “A noble sentiment. Not one that will save your life, however.” Then after a few seconds of contemplating, I asked, “Are these rebels aware of your existence?”

“No,” he reluctantly admitted. Whether it was true, it did not matter, it allowed me to elaborate in the way I had intended.

“Your death, therefore, will mean nothing to them, as your life means nothing to them. It would not advance their efforts or cause.”

“But it will protect their freedom.” The man’s jaw was firmly clenched.

“Not for long. But here’s something you can protect.” I pointed towards the two women. “Tell me what you know, let your companions tell me what they know, or they will be punished. And you will watch.”

The second woman still hadn’t moved. The sound of her shackles shook at her slight trembling. It was the only indication she was still breathing.

The man shook his head, obviously agitated.

“Faina is right, we had nothing to do with the death of your parents,” he said.

“That remains to be determined,” I said calmly.

“You’re here because you suspect sorcery, aren’t you? Do the people know that?”

“Do you intend to inform them?” I raised my eyebrows in question.

He laughed. “How exactly do you think my companions managed to murder your parents using sorcery when we have these life sucking necklaces wrapped around our throats?”

“It is unwise to eliminate possibilities simply because they are improbable,” I replied.

“It’s not improbable, it’s impossible,” he hissed.

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. Either way, you will tell me what you know,” I asserted.

The man gave a pained look to the two women. It had worked to our advantage that he had been brought here with them. There was no doubt in my mind that had he been alone, he would have died before even contemplating sharing the knowledge he possessed.

Then resolutely, and much to my surprise he said, “No. I will not.”

“Your Highness, I will tell you,” Faina shouted. “I will tell you everything, please.”

I was still looking at the man. I was wrong. He would sacrifice the life of these two women for the lives of sorcerers he did not know.

Then I understood. To him, the lives of those strangers were more valuable, not only in their number, but in their essence. The rebels were free, they were a threat, they were a symbol. The two women beside him were none of these things.

“You will,” I looked at Faina. Her face relaxed a little, relieved I had accepted her offer. I looked at the man. “You, however, will die today.”

“No!” The second woman unexpectedly raised her head and tried to run towards the man. She was abruptly stopped by the overseer behind her. “No, no, no, no, no,” she continued to repeat.

“Orlis!” The man called out to her.

“No!” Orlis wailed and scratched at the overseer’s arms. He swore and let her go. She charged towards me, looking like a wild animal that had just been set free. Jarian once again, was far too slow to react.

When she was within arms distance, I grabbed her wrists with one of my hands and held her in place. “Kill me,” she sobbed “Kill me, kill me please.”

I blinked hard, startled by this change in events.

“What are you doing?” the male Vessel exclaimed, sounding terrified for the first time.

The woman sank to my feet, sliding down my lower legs. “Kill me, kill me, kill me, kill me, kill me,” she kept whispering.

Nobody moved, the overseers and Jarian were unsure of what to do. Orlis was not attacking me. She was pleading with me. To kill her.

I wondered how old she was. She looked younger than the man.

“As you wish,” I said coldly. “Take them both away,” I directed the overseers.

Faina looked exasperated as she watched the man and Orlis be dragged out of the door. Orlis was limp in the overseer’s grip, but the man continued to struggle. His eyes remained fixed upon me until the moment the door closed.

“So, tell me,” I turned to Faina.

“Your Highness…will I be spared?”

“That depends on what you say.”

She hesitated and looked around the room.

“And how fast you say it,” I added.

“I know little, Your Highness.”

“Where are the rebels located?”

“A few say Kalnasa, most say Jurasa.”

Jarian looked at me. I could tell he also found this information alarming.

“Who leads them?”

“I don’t…I don’t know, Your Highness. But they say many sorcerers lead them, not just one.”

“What is their purpose?”

“I am not sure, Your Highness, I only hear rumours.”

“What do these rumours involve?”

She bit her lip and looked up at me with consideration.

“Do you wish to join your companions?” I asked her, gesturing towards the door.

“No, Your Highness.”

“Then what have you heard?”

“They say they wish to free us, Your Highness. To free all sorcerers, and creatures of sorcery...to change the way of things.”

“How long have they been planning this?”

“I first heard the rumours about them a few years ago.”

“How many?”

“Of them are there?” she asked.

“How many years ago?”

“Five, perhaps six.”

Jarian shuffled on his feet. Five years. If the sorcerers had been planning this for five years, and we had only just been made aware of their plans, then we were at a catastrophic disadvantage. Who knew what they had learnt about each Kingdom in that time, what they had learnt about their own abilities, their own potential, what other powers they had uncovered?

I hid my dread as best as I could. I suppressed it, contained it deep within my chest before I continued.

“You will find out more,” I instructed her. “You will ask everyone and anyone you know. You will gather every scrap of information you can on this topic and report it back to me. If you do not, you will join your companions outside the Palace gates. Remember you are still a suspect in my parents’ deaths, I am granting you a great leniency.”

“But Your Highness,” she gulped, “I do not know if the others have any more to share.”

“Find out. That is the purpose of your task.”

“What if they do not?” Her voice shook.

“I find that difficult to believe. You may go now.” The overseer took her outside. She did not resist, she simply walked away quietly.

Once Jarian and I were alone, he stood in front of me.

“Your Highness, I apologise for not acting swiftly enough when you were—"

“Do not dwell upon it, Jarian. I remain unscathed.”

“But Your Highness, I should have—"

“Be at ease, Jarian.”

The truth was I did not trust Jarian to save my life, or to keep me from harm at all, but it did not matter to me. It did not matter because I could defend myself and while I did not trust Jarian as a bodyguard, I did trust Jarian to do one thing, which was more important.

To remain loyal. To remain silent. To obey.

The same could not be said for the majority of the other people who worked for me. I valued his loyalty more than anything else.

“We will have to speak with the Jurasan King,” I declared.

“Yes,” Jarian agreed. “The rumours all point to the West.”

“I will write to him today, after the opening. You will personally deliver the letter to the outgoing carts yourself.”

“Your Highness, would it not be best to delegate this task to someone else? You have many responsibilities on your shoulders of late.”

“No. I do not trust anyone else to do this. For now, you will speak of this to no one.”

“But the Council –”

“No one, Jarian.”

He nodded. “I should escort you through the Wing back to your bedchambers, Your Highness.”

For once, I did not protest his company. I knew Jarian was a hopeless guard, but the magic wielders did not.

The walk to my bedchambers was lengthy, but I did not allow myself to dwell upon what had just occurred. It was only when Jarian closed the doors behind me that I did. I strolled into the washroom and began to clean my face. I could still feel the film of the Vessel’s saliva stuck to the bottom of my chin.

It was only then that I allowed myself to consider the indignation and the loathing that had permeated the features of the man as he looked upon me. That I thought about his face, his age. He can’t have been older than my twenty-six years.

That I thought about Orlis’ screams, and her hair like a dark flame searing at my feet and she begged.

“Kill me, kill me, kill me, kill me, kill me.”

A wave of sheer revulsion, of earth-shattering detestation came over me.

I clenched the edge of the basin so hard I thought it might crack.

And vomited.