Chapter 25

CHAPTER 25

H e sees something in my eyes that makes his own widen with pity. And I can't bear it. I can't because I don't deserve his pity. Or anyone else's. I deserve nothing but the sharp edge of my own blade.

So I don't stop fighting him, and he doesn't ask me to. I continue to purge the pain from my heart, using my blade to funnel it out of me. He becomes my conduit, my channel and inner resolution.

"Leave," he shouts. And even though his eyes haven't left mine, his blade is still as quick, his moves swift. I know he's talking to those around me.

I hear their grunts and curses but don't see them leave. But I feel them. I feel it and know that it is only Kestral and me here now.

Kestral, me, and my inner demons all fighting as one.

He doesn't ease up when I grow tired, and it only makes me angrier; in turn, giving me the energy I need to continue my fight with myself.

"Where did the creature come from?" he asks, but it only reminds me of what happened, and the claws that were slowly falling away ensnare me once more.

"What was your plan?" he continues, but I tell him nothing, instead striking each question harder, moving quicker to try and relieve some of the suffocating tightness trying to envelop me whole.

"Did you capture it?" he continues, even when I say nothing.

Even when I push harder and harder. Even when I beg him with my eyes to stop.

But he doesn't, and then I see it all again.

The blood. My hands. It's everywhere. And Visha as she gazes up in horror, her ashen face completely lost of any warmth or light. Warmth and light she will never see or feel again because of me.

"From where?" he asks again, but all I see is Visha.

Visha. Visha. Visha.

The claws slice into my mind and heart, ripping it, tearing it apart. And I can do nothing but let it. Let it pull me under once more.

Kestral sees something on my face, his own softening with a sadness I do not deserve.

"It is not your fault. Her death," he says, his voice soft. But it only scrapes against my ears, making me want to silence it.

He met me but once. He does not know what type of person I am or how horrible and foolish my decisions have been lately.

He does not get to declare a verdict for me when I know my mistake is unforgivable. He does not get to hold that power, nor will I let him.

Something bursts up from inside me, and I let it out. I attack without thought, without the bounds or confines I normally give myself.

I let it out because, somehow, I know he can take it. And he does, with ease. Each hard clash of my blade, each swift turn and attack. He moves with me as if he knows how and where I'll move and follows.

I stop thinking. I stop letting fear and pain shove me down, and I just move. I let my body do what it was born to do.

Attack. Defend. Block. Counter. Strike.

The clash of steel becomes a music that soothes, the swift spins and stride my dance. I get lost to the dance, to the elegant entwine of our swords, the retreat and rise of each step.

I let go this time and allow myself to feel nothing. To let everything around me fade away.

The slash of my sword becomes more precise, my movements more swift.

"I knew you were holding back," Kestral says, looking more intrigued than angry. But my moment of sweet oblivion is quickly ripped from me with the sound of his soft voice. It jolts through me, and everything rushes back.

The pain. The self-loathing. The endless tightness that suffocates.

It's enough to distract me to make another foolish mistake. And before I realize it, he has his blade blocking mine and forcing me backward, my steps losing their footing as he shoves me up against a wall.

The cold brick slides against my back as he leans into me, the swords still crossed between us.

The sound of our heavy breathing mingles as he pushes even closer to me, forcing me to look up at him and into his eyes.

But what I find there nearly breaks me entirely.

A newfound admiration that's slightly masked by a sliver of frustration. A strange longing that I don't quite understand. A disbelief but one that I feel is more for himself than anything else. A stunned bewilderment. Sympathy. Compassion.

But not pity. Or judgment. Or anger or suspicion.

Or any of the other things I've been placing upon myself.

He's given me a glimpse into his own soul, and in this quiet moment between us, I allow myself to feel vulnerable, powerless. To feel the regret and remorse for my actions without letting them swallow me whole.

"It. Is. Not. Your fault," he says, each word a definitive statement on its own.

"I brought it here. It is my fault. The blame is solely on me. If the blame is not mine, then whose is it?" I glance away from him and those eyes that want me to reveal every secret I behold.

He steps back from me, and my sword falls with a clank to the ground. Exhaustion finally makes its presence known, hitting me with the force of a steel ton.

I glance away, hoping the guards will come soon to take me back to my cell. Whichever one they choose.

"The one who set it free," Kestral replies, making me pause.

I look back at him with a question in my eyes, and his own brighten when he sees it.

"You were followed and betrayed. Your friend released it."

The word friend sounds like a twisted thorn on his tongue. But what he means finally hits me, making me freeze.

I don't have many friends here at the palace. For him to assume I am this person's friend means he would have to have seen me with them.

Which means I must know the person who released the dark creature.

Rage spears through me, ripping the numbness and heavy exhaustion from my mind and body.

"You know this for certain?" I ask.

Kestral nods his head, a look of complete certainty on his face. "He has confessed to it."

He… I glance down at my sword on the ground and the drop of blood clinging to the edge of the blade and shake my head.

"I still brought it here. I am still at fault." No matter who betrayed me. I am still to blame for the outcome.

"Tell me what your goal was," he says again, without judgment or anger.

I glance up at him and see it in his eyes; he only wants to understand, nothing more.

"I wanted to make them listen. Only listen." I frown. "I did not wish for any more death."

"Them?" he asks.

"The royals," I explain, and his eyes widen a fraction before a frown mars his brow.

"Why not the guards?" he asks.

I shake my head again as a quiet chuckle slips past my lips, though there is not an ounce of amusement in it.

"They know. They know and do not care. I had hoped… I had hoped the royals would be unaware and want to help us." It would seem I had hoped many things that would now never come to pass. And now my mother and Ryuu will end up paying for it.

They trusted me. Had trust in me. And now?—

"Where did you get that creature from?"

Kestral's question quickly pulls me from my turbulent thoughts. I try to remember what he's asked, and when I do, I give him an irritated look.

He is a Caligo lord, if the power he wields so easily over the guards is anything to go by. He obviously knows the lieutenant and holds some power over him too. So, it does not matter what I say anymore. My one chance has gone with my hopes to meet the royals, while he will continue to come to his own opinion based on what suits him and his people.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," I tell him.

"Try me," he insists.

But why bother? I am just a Sidus here, and a Sidus holds no power in a world full of Caligo.

"Just like anyone listened to me before I was placed in a cell?"

"One you so easily escaped." He takes a step closer to me, his own frustration flickering to life in his eyes.

"Ah, I see the celebrations have started without us," a familiar voice shouts from somewhere behind Kestral.

Kestral quickly moves aside, revealing a wide-smiling Veles as he makes his way over to us. Beside him is another familiar face. Asra, the Caligo I stole the wine from. And beside him is another man, though his face is unfamiliar.

His dark hair is pulled back from his face, and his bronze skin tone is a similar shade to Ryuu's. But it is his eyes that make a sliver of ice crawl down my spine.

The color of the sun pierces from within them, and there is a hidden knowing beneath them that comes only from years of experience. Years he does not look to have lived. He looks just as young as Kestral and Asra, if not slightly younger, which only leaves me more confused than anything.

He drags a moving bag behind him, and once they get close enough, I realize there is someone inside it.

"We all were coming to free you, but it seems you've freed yourself," Veles says with a proud smile.

"All?" I give Kestral a questioning look.

He nods his head. "Veles told us everything. We didn't realize so many of the guards were corrupt."

Veles moves beside Kestral, a smile of familiarity on his face.

"You two know each other?" I glance between them both.

"Unfortunately," Kestral mutters, and Veles's smile only grows.

I feel Kestral stiffen as Asra steps forward and pulls me into a hug.

"It has been too long. Have you missed me?" he asks with a small mischievous smile that reminds me of Jarek and his tricks.

"Not even a little," I reply, making the new male laugh.

Asra exaggerates a sigh. "There is no need to fight this thing between us. We are meant to be."

I give him a deadpan look. "I'm glad to see delusions are highly acceptable in your world."

"I like her," the new male says, drawing me to him and his smile.

He dips his head to me. "I am Cyra. It is nice to finally meet you, Seren. I have heard a great many things about you."

"I don't understand." I glance between them all, wondering what this is.

Cyra's smile vanishes as he shares a solemn look with Kestral. "Veles has explained to us your situation."

My situation? I look to Veles for some answers and what he means.

"I told you I would help you. Vowed it, in fact," he says.

"And you all trust his word so easily?" I question, glancing between them.

Asra crosses his arms, an intense look on his face. "Veles does not trust anyone. For him to have made a blood-bond vow?—"

"Don't remind me," Veles mutters, making Asra smile before he continues.

"For him to have made something so binding means we all trust you as much as we do him now."

"Just like that?" I ask, glancing around them all to see them wear the same intense look.

Asra nods. "Just like that."

"I'm a good judge of character," Veles says as he looks me in the eyes, holding my gaze. "Know now that I would never choose to complete a blood vow with someone who I know I can't completely trust nor feel is not honest or true." He says it with complete conviction in his voice, leaving no room for doubt.

But he barely knows me.

"I know," he whispers so only us both can hear. It sends a chill down my back as he says it, and the expression he gives me tells me he knows far more than what he says.

I nod my head, trusting him for now until I can understand more.

"Now that your innocence is cleared up…" Asra says before turning and yanking the bag open and shoving Nevan to the ground in front of me.

"Your betrayer."