50. Chapter 50
Chapter 50
Viola
A fter dinner, the five of us sat around a fire and told stories of our childhoods. Mace and Plume had loads of stories of them together getting into trouble with Zeph and Loris, and while I thought it may be difficult to think about Zeph, hearing about him as a child felt like a story about a different person. A person that I could've had a fondness for if not for the way things went down in the garrison. Even Tulip laughed along and enjoyed the tales.
Morrow spent his childhood almost entirely in isolation, not spending much time with other children, much like I did. I feel like he's considerably more well-adjusted than me, though. He's got a wicked sense of humor, and his laugh is contagious. We all joked around and enjoyed each other's company for long after the sun went down.
Eventually, it was time to rest before tomorrow's long day of flying, and, as always, I volunteered to take the first watch.
It's been hours now, and while I know I should wake someone else, my hands are itchy with a desire to go into my shadow vision. I don't think the others would approve of it tonight, having not developed a complete plan for what I was going to say once I got in front of Himureal.
But my gut tells me I need to do it. If I've learned anything throughout my life, I've learned to trust my gut. I stroke Shadow's head, trying to see if he agrees with me or not. He doesn't give me any hint one way or the other, choosing instead to burrow deeper into my shirt.
I picture myself as I was before, with dark hair and tawny skin on my hands instead of the decay that creeps up my arms, and I call forth Light and Shadow within me. I can feel the two magics dancing, swirling together within me. Shadow pokes his head up, swaying gently as if a breeze is pushing him around. From somewhere within me, particles of brilliant white and willowy black float through the air in a fine mist.
Pushing the image of myself before I became God-touched out with the swirls of magic, I listen for the buzz I have come to associate with magic, but none comes. I feel the magic settle gently onto my skin, and looking down, I can see my hands appearing exactly as they're supposed to. It feels like my body is coated in a film or that I've been wrapped in a thick fog. It's precarious, and I'm afraid to touch my hair or even clasp my hands together for risk of disturbing it.
Before the illusion can fade, I call forth my shadows and watch as the magic drifts lazily in the air before blanketing the plains in shimmering black. Immediately, the stress drips out of my body. I feel more at home here than I do anywhere else.
I don't know what that says about me, but it doesn't bother me, whatever it is.
I enjoy solitude.
I don't get to enjoy the solitude for long, though, because it appears Himureal cannot resist an opportunity to come speak to me. He walks towards me, hair loose and flowing around his waist. It's thick, with a gentle wave, and impossibly white, matching my own. He's wearing a black tunic and black pants, with bare feet. He would almost blend into the shadows if not for his hair.
He spreads his arms as he approaches me as if to pull me into a hug. "Daughter, Shadowweaver, I was wondering if you'd come back."
I sidestep him, unwilling to embrace him even if I wasn't under an illusion. His face twists, but he recovers quickly and slides his body to the ground. I settle myself down as well, careful not to place my hands on anything.
"I have more questions," I say without pretense.
"I'm sure you do," he chuckles. "You would not be you if you didn't, I suppose." He pushes his hair behind his ears, a startingly human gesture. "But you know the game, Viola."
"Must it be past, or can it be anything?"
He taps his chin, considering. I briefly wonder if I can tell him that I love Mace or if that would open Mace up to a dangerous situation.
"Past, please." His answer stops my wondering. But it does give me an idea.
"I would like to tell you about Max." I shift awkwardly, resting my forearms on my knees. "But, this is a large story, Himureal, and I will require a large answer in kind."
"Very well, very well." He waves his hand and nods, accepting my terms. His eyes are hungry, eager for another piece of me.
In my mind, I see the small sprite of a girl who bounced over to my door, nearly knocking it off the hinges as she banged on it. "Max lived a few doors down and was always coming to my house to try to get me to go out and play. My mother, as I'm sure you can guess, never allowed it." My eyes droop closed slowly, and I take a deep breath. "So I would sneak off during my 'training exercises' and find her, desperate to talk to someone my own age." I snap my eyes open and look at him. "Do you know what it's like to be completely alone in the world?"
He inhales a shuddering breath. "I do. I do."
"I suppose you would," I whisper. Nodding to myself, I continue. "Max helped me feel like the world was bigger than the four walls of my home. Around her, I was not alone. I was not a little girl who had a responsibility to not weigh my family down during the race. I was just Viola, Max's friend."
We're both silent for a minute, and I feel his eyes on me like they're trying to peel my skin back, desperately fighting to split me open for his own perusal.
"Max died during the Race this year, you know that, right?" I whisper.
"Yes. Zeph told me."
"Right, yeah. She died because of your magic." He moves to protest, but I hold up a hand. "I don't blame you. It's not like you cursed her." A rueful chuckle slips past my lips. "Max was always looking out for me. She wanted me to stop fighting the Race and live a quiet life. Maybe settle down and have a few kids to help heal the trauma that was my childhood." I scoff. "If she could see me now."
"You could never live a quiet life, Shadowweaver. You are meant for more."
"I agree. That life was never really for me. But for Max, I should have tried." Nervously, I tap my fingers together and count out the impacts. "Max was not a fighter, but every year during the Race, for me, she tried. I was a loner, but when it came to her, I tried to be more. I tried to do better."
Emotion prickles my eyes, and guilt for being here without Mace's knowledge churns in my gut. This is not trying to do better. I just told him I loved him, and now here I am going behind his back. I swallow back my wrongdoing.
"I am not a perfect person," I chuckle. "Far from it. There have been a lot of things in my life that have made me feel like this world would be better off without me." I hold up a hand, preemptively stopping his outrage. "Just because it would be better off doesn't mean I'm giving up my place here without kicking and screaming." A sly grin grows on his face as he watches me. "But, Frostweaver, I am learning that there is more to this life than an end goal. Because even if you reach that goal, it always changes, doesn't it?"
"Always," he murmurs.
"Max taught me what it meant to care about someone. And I've taken that and finally applied it to those that surround me, even if sometimes it feels like the antithesis of who I am. But that's what caring about someone is, isn't it? Recognizing what another needs and helping them get it, even if it isn't in your nature."
"Why do I feel like you're trying to give me a lesson, daughter?" Himureal chuckles.
"It's not so much a lesson. It's an insight into who I am as a person." I run my fingers through my hair, sighing. "I don't care, not really. At least, I didn't used to. When Max died, the only person remaining that I cared about was Tulip. But we had just met. Our relationship was so new that she had no reason to stick around with me. I don't think I could've if the roles were reversed. Doing something for someone just because they need it is not something that comes second nature to me. And I don't think it comes to you either. But I have grown to care about Ytopie and Krillium, and I am ready to do what needs to be done, even if it isn't in my nature."
I look up at him and am met with an icy, tense stare. His body is rigid, face curled in a sneer.
With a quick look down at my hands, my stomach drops.
Fuck.
I tapped my fingers.
I ran them through my hair.
"Why daughter, look at our resemblance," he snarls. "When you were going to tell me your hair changed?" He rises to his feet and stalks towards me, and I scramble up, backing away.
"I was attacked, and my hair was lost. When I woke up, it was like this."
"What about your hands, then? Tell me, how did you come to possess hands of decay like my brother?" He's asking a question, but his words are harsh, revealing he already knows the answer. "You do not know what fire you're playing with here, Viola. You cannot even begin to fathom the danger everyone will be in if they are brought back."
"Then tell me!" I shout, unable to contain myself. "You speak in cryptic riddles but expect me to understand. Speak plainly, Himureal. You have been inconsistent and cagey since I've met you. I've found the journals of Avidor's and Solarius' high priests. They do not paint a clear picture around the banishing, but it doesn't look like it was the fault of the humans as I've been led to believe – as even you told me when you returned. It appears that your siblings conspired to lock you away and were willing to sacrifice themselves to do it."
He steps towards me, closing the distance between us swiftly with his long legs. "You have just enough information to hang yourself with it, Shadowweaver."
"Tell me what happened, Himureal. Please. I can't think you're as bad as they say. You're a cocky asshole, but I can't see the monster three Gods would lock themselves away to prevent being in the world." Maybe this is stupid of me, and Gods, I do not trust Himureal, but other than him wanting to be the only God in the realm, I cannot see what would be so bad about him that would necessitate three other Gods being locked away.
Everything he has shown me shows his eagerness to know me, and he's been forthcoming with all that I've asked. Perhaps it makes me a fool, but on some level, I know he does not mean any harm.
My words cause his shoulders to loosen a bit like a weight had been lifted off of him. "You're willing to listen to the truth?" he says quietly.
"That's all I want, Frostweaver. That's all I've ever wanted from you. I want to know the truth."
He extends his hand to me. "Then come with me to Ytopie. Come sit, have a meal with me, and let me tell you my story."
I balk at his hand, retreating a few steps. "I can't go with you. Ignoring the distance between where I am and Ytopie, my friends would notice I am gone."
"I cannot have this conversation in a shadow vision, Viola. Let us sit, have a drink, and break bread." He inhales deeply, his words shuddering as he speaks. "This is my largest secret…secret. Let me be comfortable when I tell you about my ultimate humiliation. It is too long of a story for us to sit in this sustained magic."
Every part of me screams not to go with him.
That he is danger. He cannot be trusted.
But I want to know the story.
No, I need to know the story behind the banishing.
We are so close to having all of the artifacts and bringing all the Gods back. What if we bring them back, and they're worse than him?
He seems to believe that they are.
Would I be able to live with myself if I didn't find out exactly what happened? If I don't do everything I can to protect the people of Krillium?
And what is the risk? Himureal needs me to rule. A portion of his magic lives within me, and he wants me by his side.
I am the only person who can definitively determine what happened. Knowing what happened is the only way. Otherwise, we are creating a blind solution to an unknown problem.
"Shadowweaver, Viola, please. Please." His voice is pleading, barely more contained than a beg. "Come with me. I would never knowingly put you in danger."
My shoulders sag with the weight of what I have to do. "How would I get back?"
His eyes light up, and he looks at me with child-like joy. "The same way you'll get there. You'll summon a shadow vision with a door to where you want to go."
The knot in my stomach relaxes, knowing my ability to return rests on my shoulders, not his. "And you'll tell me everything I need to know?"
"You have my word." I feel, then, the light pulse of magic between us. A cool, icy grip wrapped around my wrist. "I've even soulbonded myself to you. I am committed to telling you everything you need to know with my own life."
His words have left me stunned. He has tied his life to his promise of telling me everything I've asked for. How can I turn down his request now?
I brush nonexistent dust from my pants. "Give me ten minutes, and I'll be there." He nods, a wide smile on his face, and I dissolve my vision, leaving me standing under the moon on the plains.
Silently walking towards the still-sleeping group, I dig through my pack to see if there is anything I could use in Ytopie. I strap my thighs with all three of my blades and wrap my whip around my hips. I'm not sure how much use physical weapons will be against a God if I need to fight, but I feel safer with them than without.
I brush the hair off of Tulip's forehead and smile down at her. It feels like a goodbye, but I am determined to get back to her before she even wakes. She sighs and rolls over on her side, scooting closer to Morrow. I know she'll be protected with him by her side.
Squatting down beside him, I kiss my fingers and press them to Mace's lips, wishing I had something to write him a note and let him know where I'm going. His sharp features are softened in sleep, and I spend a few minutes drinking him in. His long arms are stretched behind his head and the slow rise and fall of his chest beckons for me to press my face against it and drift to sleep with him. But alas, I can't, not if I want to truly know once and for all what we are up against, so all I can do is whisper, "I'll find you again."
And though I know it's probably a bad idea, that this will most likely not end well for me, I have to do this. Our journey is pointless without knowing the truth. Obliver's journal said that Himureal wanted to upend the way they structured society and that his high priest, Lucinda, believed in him.
She was my ancestor, and I have to believe there was a reason she trusted him and believed in him beyond the draw.
The history of Krillium is missing this information on what Himureal was going to do and the lengths the others would go to stop it, and without it, we cannot possibly know the right way to save Krillium.
Caring is doing something that needs to be done, even if it is not in your nature.
My stomach is sour as I summon another shadow vision, my mind made up to join Himureal. Shadow tightens around my neck protectively as the cool, comforting darkness swirls around us. Just as Himureal said, a door sits at the edges of the vision. I walk towards it, grab the knob, and rip it open.