24. Eveera
Eveera
I left them with their jaws gaping and information I hadn’t planned on sharing yet. Millicent I found asleep in the bed, her skin color finally pinking up again. “Stupid girl. Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to drink from a cup that wasn’t yours?” I mutter.
From my peripheral I can see my reflection watching me through the crack in the bathroom door. Blood is stuck in my hair and my face and chest are dotted with the red spatter pattern from Zekiel.
“You should have died the night she did. ”
I wanted to scream at him, that I did die that night. That they killed me the moment they gutted her. It wouldn’t make a difference. Just like his death my feelings mean nothing anymore and after tonight? The king and queen’s blood will never be enough. No, now, I want every fucking individual connected to their deaths.
My hands grip the lip of the slate counter top. Like a dam breaking all at once the wave of emotions tears out of me. I can’t find it in me at the moment to care how loud I might be. If my feelings truly mean nothing, then who cares who hears me? Right ?
Let them hear what they’ve driven me to. Let them hear what they’ve created.
With each sob my back pulls tight, the familiar itch to overtake the pain is restless under my skin. I’ve nowhere to place my rage and against my better judgment I hurl my magic into the mirror.
Glass shatters everywhere, over the counter, onto the floor, onto my skin where tiny cuts now make themselves comfortable.
My hand closes around a larger shard and I watch the blurry eyes as I bring it up to my shoulder. I reach as far back as I can and press it hard into the scarred skin. The burn from both the jagged slice and the rune steal my breath. “One” I gasp. Two arms rip the shard from my hand and wrap around me before I can make another cut. “NO!” I hear myself scream, the sobs racking through my chest as we stumble back, falling clumsily to the floor.
Rorin’s voice starts whispering in my ear, and whole whatever his words are, comforting or not, all I can do is shake my head rapidly as I yell. His arms put pressure around me, keeping me still in place until the sobs stop.
I don’t know how long we’ve been sitting here for. But, the words I try to speak come out in a hoarse quiet croak. “I broke your mirror.” Is all I manage to get out. Rorin’s hand brushes down my hair as he squeezes me a little tighter against him, mumbling into my hair.
“Shhh…it can be replaced.” I nod slowly. “I did die…” I whisper as pure exhaustion takes over and my eyelids start to droop. He’s body stiffens around me momentarily before he repeats himself, not acknowledging the vulnerable admission.
“Shhh…it can be replaced. It’s only right before sleep takes me that I hear him whisper, a kiss pressing into my hair, “but you cannot be.”
The light streaming into the bathroom assaults my eyelids, stirring me awake.
My ass is completely numb from spending the entire night on the hard floor. I blink trying to clear the sleep from my eyes when I hear soft snores come from behind me. I peer over my shoulder, trying not to disturb him.
Rorin’s head is back against the wall. His arms still locked in a tight embrace around me. I try to tip forward enough to see Axel’s body come into view - he’s contorted in a horribly uncomfortable position against the door frame.
I start to move out of Rorin’s grip as subtly as I can but his arms flex in response, pinning me to my spot. “Can’t we pretend for just a little longer?” He asks. His voice is heavy with sleep and his eyes remain closed.
“What?” My words are a whisper.
One hazel eye peeks open, looking right at me. “I said, can’t we pretend for just a little longer? You can go back to hating me and wishing death upon my head when it’s not only daybreak.”
I’m at a loss for works and, “are you not uncomfortable?”, is the only thing I can think of to ask him. He readjusts his shoulders against the wall and brings a hand up to my forehead, pushing me against his collarbone. “Well, I wasn’t until you started moving around. Now shh. We’ll talk in the morning.” I open my mouth to argue that it is, in fact, already morning but he can hear the thought forming, his voice drifting into my mind, “ in the actual morning, Nightmare. Just a little longer.”
“Okay…a little longer.” I sigh.
The three of us didn’t officially wake up until Axel yelped. Rorin and I both startled looking over to see Ezra standing over Axel .
“Get up, Mecham.” Ezra’s voice a command. A scathing look skates over Rorin and I, the two of us still wound around one another, “we have things to discuss.”
Axel rubs his side and flips his middle finger up at Ezra’s retreating back, “didn’t have to fucking kick me, man. Gods.” He shakes his fingers through his hair before looking at the both of us, eyebrows raised. His gaze drops up and down, a sleepy smirk curling up.
I cock my head at him, mouthing, “don’t say a word.” He raises his hands up defensively and scrambles out, leaving us alone to untangle our limbs. Rorin stands first reaching his hand down to help me up. I refuse the gesture. I am perfectly capable of standing up, I think to myself.
I pick up a shard of glass, examining the damage. Cool fingers touch the new cut on my shoulder. “You should get a healer mage to fix that.” His voice is quiet and our eyes lock in the fragments of the mirror.
“No. It stays.”
He takes a step back, moving towards the door his hand rubbing the nape of his neck as he stares at the marks. “Part of me is hoping that I am wrong in the thought of who made all of those scars. Part of me is hoping that there is someone responsible, someone that I could make pay for subjecting you to that. But I’m not wrong am I? I’m not wrong in thinking that the person who is…who…”
My head dips down, furiously blinking tears threatening to slip. “It will never be an answer that you like.” His fist connects with the frame as he walks out. I can’t bring myself to look back at him. I’ve never been ashamed of my habits, of how I choose to cope. But when he acts like he actually cares… no. I think, he doesn’t get to care. He doesn’t get to feel any way towards how I deal with the festering wound his family left in me.
Millicent is sitting up in the bed fully awake when I step out of the bathroom, but she keeps quiet while I take my time walking to the wardrobe. I twisted my wet, sink washed hair up into two buns at the base of my neck on my way. There is a pair of brown leathers hanging that I slip on over my legs grabbing my thigh holster off the vanity and securing it around the slippery material. I tuck a few daggers into the holster and a pocket sized one in between my breasts. All I need now is a shirt, looking through the rack I come up dry.
“You could always wear one of Rorin’s, I doubt he’d mind.” Millie says from behind me. I look over to Rorin’s wardrobe, closest to me hangs a billowy white undershirt. Throwing it on, I see that due to our height difference the shirt hits at the top of my thighs. I button and cinch up my green embroidered waspie corset or the shirt to tamp down some of the wideness of it. The collar is equally wide, hanging easily off my narrow shoulders and exposing my tattoos and scars.
My lips thin when I spin around to face the girl in the bed. “You almost died.”
Her face turns sheepish, as she shrugs “Sorry?”
I roll my eyes my hands rolling and pushing up his sleeves. “Yeah well, I would really hate to be responsible for your death simply because you drank a drink that wasn’t yours.”
“I heard you, last night.” My lips turn down in a frown. I grab my boots slipping them on and reaching for the doorknob. “They won’t go down easily.” I freeze in my spot, my head swiveling around to look at her.
“What did you just say?”
She sighs, sitting herself up straighter. “I said - they won’t go down easily. If you plan to make him king you better have a damn good way to do it. Trust me. ”
I tilt my head, considering her. “And why should I do that, dear?”
“She didn’t always used to be like this.” Her voice quiets, her focus on her fingers twisting in her palms as she looks down. Anger flares to life in my chest at the mere mention of the queen. “You’re the product of something terrible that they did. But I have lived alongside them for eighteen years. And I am the product of something great they did, and because of that, I know everything. You’ll need me.” I’m at a loss of what to say, too many mixed emotions swirling around in me. “So just trust me, if you want them dead? Be ready for a fight.”
“And will you fight me? When the time comes?” Her features turn cold, her gaze glazing over.
“No. The woman I knew is gone now, never coming back. And for what happened to Rorin…they deserve to hang.”
Our conversation comes to a close when I decide to leave so that she can get some rest. Walking out into the common area the tension is thick, icy stares wandering all over me. It’s not hard to find Rorin amongst the men, he’s leaning with his arm against the fireplace. He gives me a very slow once over from where he stands a smile twitching at his lips, my stomach sinks a little at the heat of his gaze on the nearly see-through shirt of his. . “ Nice shirt.”
“She’s awake.” I announce and the three of them - Bennett, Max, and Orem all leap up from their seats.
“Hold.” Ezra’s hard voice rings out causing my men to freeze begrudgingly in place. Bennett however walks away from what him, muttering, “you’re not my fucking commander.”
Max and Orem lower themselves back down and Ezra’s hand swings out towards me, “explain, Eveera.” He orders.
“Explain what?” I ask, my arms crossing to mimic the way he is standing .
“You’re joking. What do you mean ‘what’?" His hand juts out at Rorin. "You’re marrying him?!”
The prince and I look at each other, unable to help the shock on both of our faces. “Marry?” We ask at the same time.
“You said you were going to make him a king!” Mousy exclaims.
Oh. Well, I did say that. I can’t help myself against the fit of laughter that bubbles out, the emotion so violent that tears spring from my eyes. “Oh, you foolish, men.” All of them, including Rorin, stare at me confused. “He will not be king because I am marrying him.” Although what a thought. “He will be king, because soon he will be the only royal Collier left standing.”
Rorin chokes and before any of them have a chance to say something we're interrupted by Armond who charges into the room, the look on his face is solemn. “Obsidian or Bair?” I ask, his eyes shadowing over. “Obsidian or Bair?!” I shout.
“Obsidian.” Fuck.
The entire room goes into an uproar. My men are trying to figure out from Armond what exactly happened while Rorin’s men are trying to figure out what exactly I meant. At the current moment I can’t find it in me to care, my head was already spinning with all sorts of grave thoughts.
“What’s wrong with Obsidian?” I practically growl at him, my voice cutting through all of the noise.
He shakes his head. “I received a missive from Felix yesterday.”
“Yesterday?!” I shout.
“I would’ve come to you sooner but you weren’t in any state to hear it. ”
My feet march over to him putting us chest to chest, my anger radiating between the two of us. “You do not get to decide what state I am or am not in to hear news about my own fucking kingdom, Armond!”
His eyes are soft, that blasted empathy of his surfacing, “the situation is severe, Eveera, and you were volatile last night.”
The situation is severe. “How. Severe.” My patience has already snapped, I’m already imagining the worst, how bad can it really be? I wonder. Armond takes a deep breath in, his eyes flicking over to where my men have clustered together. “Don’t look at them. Look at me. How. Serious.”
“The three towns that border Oriya,” Oh gods, “they’re gone.”
“Gone? Th-they can’t just be gone. Towns don’t just disappear Armond.” I’m struggling to put the words together as well as keep a handle on my magic. “Wha— how?” I can feel the panic crawling up my throat and my heart is beating too fast in my chest. It feels like the air is being sucked out from my lungs, making my vision blurry, and my nerves tingly.
He braces a hand on my shoulder, “outer land creatures have overrun them.” He tries to explain.
“But…isn’t Vada?" Orem starts before, " oof! ” My head whips around to see him rubbing his ribs, Axel’s elbow still hanging in the air. I look back to Armond, searching his face to see if he’s going to tell me the truth or try and spare my feelings.
Thankfully he has some self preservation skills, but I don’t know if it matters because the overwhelming feeling of dread that comes from a single word.
“She's gone.” I nearly pass out as he says it.
"Dead, gone? Or disappeared, gone." Axel asks the question for me .
"Disappeared." He replies. We’ve run out of time - I’ve run out of time and Vellar is going to cost me yet another thing, except this time I don’t even have the satisfaction of blaming it all on them. I chose this. I chose my revenge, and now my people are suffering.
Rorin tries to reach me through the seal whispering my name, but I slam my walls up, shoving him out of my mind. “We can send some troops back. We can work with half the military, if necessary.” He suggests.
Everyone looks at me for a response or approval. I shake my head, “no.” My voice coming out quieter than I’d intended.
“No?” They all repeat back in unison.
I nod my head. “No. We don’t send back troops. She wouldn’t respond to them anyways.”
“Uhm-I don’t think Rorin meant to send the troops back for her , Evie. He means to send them back to defend the citizens.” Axel says. I shrug both he and Rorin off. My hands reach to unwind the low buns on my neck and restyle my long locks into a high pony. “No one goes back—”
“You can’t be serious?” Ezra shouts.
I bare my teeth at him, “no one goes back but me .” Reaching for Armond I think of the portal room we entered through on our first day here and Void out of the apartment.
The attendant's eyes grow wide at my magical intrusion. He stands with what I can guess was the full intention to stop me. “Excuse me but—” A tendril of my magic tightens around his throat, silencing him and my right hand rises to the iridescent flicker of the portal.
The door flies open, I don’t have time to look over my shoulder and see who it is so I focus harder on the iridescent shimmer and start to push my hand into it. His scent hits me first bringing me a complicated mix of relief and anger. “ You can’t escape me that easy.” He says .
“ You all were going to argue with me. We don’t have time to debate.” He stands tall next to me, briefly glancing at the man wound in my magic, before lacing his fingers through mine.
“Where to?” He asks out loud. I don’t say anything, instead, with a hard yank I pull him into the portal with me. We land fast, tumbling into the hard dirt.
Fuck. I didn’t think that would actually work. Quickly, I pull myself up. Rorin is twisted at an awkward angle on the ground, coughing as he gets his breath back from the fall.
“WHAT THE ACTUAL BLEEDING FUCKING GODS WAS THAT?!” He yells. Good question…I didn’t know if it’d work, but I figured it was worth a try. I pulled on the portal’s magic like I do when I manipulate Armond’s Void powers but instead of calling to the Obsidian portal and landing in Oriya, I called for Vada. But, looking around us, it doesn’t feel like Obsidian. The air is too warm, and the trees aren’t right.
“Where the hell are we?” I ask.
He turns in place looking at our surroundings. “We’re on the outskirts of Valen…what did you do? How did we end up somewhere other than another portal?”
“I didn’t think of another portal…” I whisper. “I thought of Vada. But why in the gods’ name would she be here?”
I reach for her but she still ignores me through the bond. Her usually familiar presence, still absent. I decide to just choose to head in one direction to look for her. He reluctantly follows after me muttering the whole time we search about how he spent years studying the ways of the portals. Not only the magical element to them, but the technological and industrial elements as well and how a normal person should not have been able to overpower the latter two components and alter the trajectory. I can't be bothered to explain something I myself don't really understand when my mind is swimming on how she managed this and how I missed my own dragon just minutes outside the city.
Sweat begins beading on both our brows from the warmth and the density of the moisture in the woods. I've lost count of how long we've been out here, but by the looks of the sun setting, we've been out here awhile. He stops in moving, spinning around to look at our surroundings a frown forming on his face. "What? What is it?" I ask, annoyed that we've stopped moving.
"Uhm, well. We're right back where we started." He says cooly.
"What?"
"We just walked in a giant circle, look," I turn around in place, "this the same clearing you somehow portaled us into."
I groan. "Oh not this again."
He lifts his arms up and down, flabbergasted. "Well, I'm sorry but I don't know how the hell you managed to get us out here, it just doesn't make sense!" He shouts.
"That is not the biggest issue here!" I shout back, wanting nothing more than to just leave him here and go look for my damn dragon myself. A loud rustling sound comes from the trees distracting us and both of our heads snap to the noise.
Thwump! Thwump! Thwump! Thhhhwump!
Each sound finds success hitting their marks. "Oh, gods." I choke. It’s too little too late when I notice that they’re arrows protruding from our bodies. He looks to me stunned and tries to say something as my body thuds to the ground and my vision blacks out.