XXI | A CALL NORTH
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She opened her eyes to be greeted by an expanse of bright white.
But to her surprise, the radiance didn't strain her tired eyes; quite the opposite, in fact.
It provided Celvene with a strange sense of calm, an eerie, tense blanket of peace she knew couldn't last—and she refused to let it.
She was somewhere she shouldn't be, and she needed to leave.
Sitting up, Celvene frowned. Once her eyesight had settled, she realized she was either in a very nice prison cell, or she wasn't where she expected to be. It was small and cramped, but she had to blink a few times to make sure she wasn't still asleep.
She swung her feet off the bed, and the dark tiles shone beneath her.
The plush blanket below her body sank into her skin.
To her right were... metal bars, so that did prove her suspicions correct: she'd been imprisoned.
But where? Was she in Noriya? If so, why did such bloodthirsty savages treat their prisoners with. .. dignity?
And how was she going to get out of here?
"You're awake," a voice said from beside her.
Celvene jumped and angled her gaze out of the cell once more. Her hearing cleared, and the soft, hushed trickle of water sounded nearby. Outside of the cell, Celvene could see the pure white bark of tall trees. And in front of that...
"What are you doing here?" Celvene croaked, wincing as her voice burned against her throat. She tried to lift her hands to her face, but the rattling of chains paired with a cold nip at her skin told her that her hands were bound.
"I'm visiting," said Melantha, shifting in place. She wore a loose-fitting white shirt and matching sarong, the billowy sleeves of her shirt swaying in the gentle breeze. Celvene's eyes slowly trailed up to her face, which was frowning. "I told you not to be a hero, Celvene."
"I didn't try to be one."
"Sure."
"I ran away, Melantha. I don't know what else you expected.
I'm not a soldier like you. I don't have these natural gifts for magic, and I'm not gifted beyond belief with a weapon, and no one likes me.
I can do a few basic spells, and I can swing a dagger.
That's the most you're going to get out of me.
I worked in a circus, and now I'm a servant for a reason.
There was no way I was making it out of there once your friends spotted me," said Celvene, a frown of her own crawling onto her face.
"Did you send them after me? After you told me to leave? "
Melantha was quiet for a moment before she sighed, turning her bright gaze away. "No. I thought about it, but... A small part of me wanted you to escape. So I let you. Or tried to, at least. For old time's sake. Why else would I have warned you?"
"Right," Celvene said, frost lathering her acrid voice. She knew Melantha was lying, just as she lied about everything else. "I suppose you fought against them to let me go, too."
"Don't be ridiculous, Celvene." Melantha's nose crinkled, and she drew herself to her full height as she faced Celvene again. "I'm not going to get myself killed for you. I'm smarter than that. Why would I give up my life for someone I don't care for anymore?"
Celvene's chest ached, and her frown deepened into a scowl. She decided to ignore Melantha's last comment. "And you're smarter than the majority of Aizasea, it seems, seeing as I'm the only one who's seen through your poor disguises both times I've seen y—"
"That's not true."
"What?" Celvene knew exactly what Melantha was saying, but she couldn't help it as the question slipped out. Her eyes narrowed, and she clamped her mouth shut, having realized it fell open. "We've seen each other twice."
"You've seen me twice. Not the other way around."
"Then why did you act surprised when we met?"
Melantha scoffed. "Did you want me to say, 'Oh, hello Celvene, I've seen you multiple times before this but never said anything'?"
"Yes, actually," Celvene replied, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. Did it surprise her in the slightest that Melantha would do something like this?
No.
The corners of Melantha's lips twitched, and one of her eyebrows raised. "You wouldn't do that for me."
Celvene opened her mouth to refute Melantha's claim, but upon mulling it over, she realized the soldier was right.
At the rate she was opening and closing her mouth, she probably looked like a fish out of water.
"I guess you have a point. What, were you too scared to say hello?
I wouldn't have bit if I saw you. By Virion, I didn't—"
"You tried to press a dagger to my throat," Melantha corrected.
"After you tried to do the same," snarled Celvene. "So was it nerves?"
"Not exactly," was all Melantha said.
"When are you going to let me free?" Celvene said after a moment of silence.
Her hips were weightless, which meant they'd taken her daggers.
Judging by the way the jail was constructed—tight and clean—she wasn't getting out of here, and any puny spells she could cast wouldn't let her escape, yet they bound her hands anyways.
She gritted her teeth. "That's why you're here, right?
To let me go? Or maybe to lead me down to a dungeon to drive a sword through my heart? "
Melantha's eyebrows furrowed. A curious, confused spark lit in her crystalline eyes, and her head tilted. "You think I'm going to free you?" Laughter escaped her lips, though her face remained stoic. "What, are you stupid?"
"Maybe. I know you don't like me. So why else would you visit me while I'm imprisoned?
" Celvene stood, peering out of her cell.
Her chains rattled. The area behind Melantha was a rounded room of cells identical to Celvene's, each with a small bed, desk, and door that she assumed led to a bathroom.
An indoor garden with blooming flowers and trees was in the middle of the circle. "This is a prison, right?"
"Of course it is." Melantha blew a tuft of hair out of her face, not quite meeting Celvene's gaze.
"I thought it would be more..."
"Desolate? Disgusting? Impoverished?" When Celvene didn't reply, Melantha glanced at her, eyes narrowed into slits.
"I know you think that everyone in Noriya are all these revolting beasts that would kill you without batting an eye.
But it's more complicated than that. Just like how you have the.
.. What do you call it in your language? "
Celvene returned Melantha's stare, making sure hers was as blank as possible. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."
"Zasrantia?" When Celvene still didn't respond, Melantha sighed. "I've been spending too much time around Mrish and Sashaila. My Aizasean is slipping. Your language is complicated."
"Okay? Why don't you speak our native tongue?"
Melantha's jaw ticked tight. Did that question... unsettle her? "Regardless, we're not as bad as you make us out to be."
Celvene mentally clocked Melantha's reaction, but all she said was, "I'm sure," as she leaned back against the bed.
"Have you not run into bad people in Aizasea? You can't tell me they're confined to Noriya only."
When Celvene blinked, images of the meaty man who'd slammed her against a wall in the Slums flashed to life in her mind's eye. It was accompanied by other similar incidents—a woman robbing her at knifepoint, another man attempting to strip her bare, other things she tried her best to shake away...
"You have a point," she said, and her voice came out shaky and weak. She cringed, but Melantha either didn't notice or didn't care.
"The line between good and evil is blurred," Melantha continued, shaking her head; her hair followed her movements, and Celvene had to stop herself from staring. "Do you really think I'm a bad person?"
Celvene didn't move at first, unable to respond. She didn't know why. She knew the answer.
"Celvene?" The single word was choked with pain.
Emotion. Something Celvene hadn't heard from Melantha since they were children, and Celvene and Melantha were being separated from each other for the last time.
Celvene shook the broken echoes of screams from Melantha that crowded her head, frowning.
And when she looked up, Melantha's frown was twice as sullen and far more crestfallen.
"I... No. Of course not," she said, wincing. She'd hesitated, and she knew...
"You hesitated," Melantha said, visibly swallowing. Her expression was all too familiar, and that was a fact that made her heart ache.
But why did Melantha care what she thought? She was so insistent that she didn't care for Celvene, and she hated her, so why was she valuing what Celvene's opinion was of her?
She hadn't meant to hesitate, but her head's distractions were all too well-timed. That, paired with not knowing what to believe, made Celvene's responses slower than normal.
Celvene bit her lip before clenching her teeth together. "You... I... I don't know. You're in Noriya for a reason, aren't you? You haven't left for a reason, sic?"
"Did you listen to anything I just said?"
"Well..."
She didn't know. She couldn't know.
For years, she'd lived under a mirage that Melantha was a perfect, doting girl that everyone loved.
The golden child couldn't do anything wrong.
And yet, she still stuck with Celvene. Celvene, the embarrassing piece of trash people avoided associating themselves with.
The daughter of circus performers was a clown, quite literally, and if others knew what was good for them and their social status, they'd stay away from her.
And, of course, this sentiment had crossed over into Aizasea.
Celvene's education was less than stellar, thanks to her long nights spent in the circus and struggles to follow along with material she couldn't understand because she missed so many classes.
She was surprised they hadn't kicked her out, but they'd always said every child deserved an education, as long as they paid for it.
Celvene had all but caught up by herself once she'd been separated from her parents anyways, but there were still lasting effects, and she knew it.
She'd never been traditional—not in schooling, not in growing up, and not now.
Maybe Melantha was right. Maybe the line between good and bad was blurred, and the people that surrounded her weren't as holy as she'd led herself to believe. And maybe, just maybe, Celvene wasn't as good as she thought.
But did that mean Melantha was innocent?
Celvene's hands curled into fists, and her nails dug into her palms. She drew in a breath.
She didn't know.
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