XXV | NYX
She knew if Quinn, her friend, had the chance to visit Noriya, she'd fall in love. Celvene had caught the elf stargazing countless times at Painted Sky. Without fail, if the moon was full, Celvene could walk out of the tent and find Quinn staring up at the sky, a small smile etched on her lips.
She and Melantha had walked in silence for most of their trip.
Celvene didn't have much to say to Melantha, and Melantha was avoiding talking to Celvene.
Perhaps it was because she felt guilty, or it was something else.
Celvene didn't particularly care what the reason was; though they'd talked some of their issues out, she wasn't jumping to start buddying up to the soldier like they were friends again.
Melantha had told Celvene one thing: they'd be visiting a powerful friend of Melantha's. That was all—vague, but she still knew how to pique Celvene's curiosity, evidently.
Now, they stood outside a grand mansion.
Constructed of onyx and ebony, it was an impressive sight; the pointed tips reached for the sky, almost shrouding the moon that was peeking over the horizon.
The stained glass windows that lined the castle projected a black shadow onto the brick floor in front of the building, and Celvene had to squint to make out much of anything.
Though the sun was far from rising, the moon hadn't fallen yet. So why was it so dark?
"Shouldn't you bind my hands or something?" Celvene asked. "You know, because I'm a prisoner? And you're taking me to someone important, I'm assuming."
"You're not a prisoner," Melantha replied, voice monotone. She then cleared her throat, and a bit of emotion returned to her tone. "Yes, you're going to be kept in a cell, where your hands are bound, but when you're out of the cell, you're not our prisoner. You're our guest. Like our king said."
"Why do you keep calling him 'our king'? He's your king."
Melantha didn't respond, and Celvene rolled her eyes. She didn't bother prodding for an answer. She already knew what Melantha would respond with.
They approached the front gates, and to Celvene's surprise, Melantha didn't stop. She didn't have to stop, either, because the guards opened the gates without a word. When the two guards looked at Celvene, her face heated up in a flush.
Once inside, Melantha led her up a series of turning and winding hallways. They all looked the same: decorated in dark decorations, painted in shades of blue, purple, and black, and not a source of light to be seen save for the moonlight streaming through the windows.
"Are you leading me to my death?" Celvene said, glancing to the side of the curved stairs they were ascending. Her question was only partially a joke.
Used to the grimy, dusty walls of Aizasea's buildings, thanks to the salty, wet air, it was a surprise to Celvene that she couldn't see a speck of dirt anywhere.
Come to think of it, she hadn't seen much filth at all in Noriya.
It was picturesque—a utopia. And Celvene knew that if something seemed too good to be true, it most likely was.
"This castle is giving me the chills. Very foreboding. "
"We're going on a slight detour," Melantha replied. Her hands were clamped into tight fists at her sides, and her arms were rigid, as if she was marching the halls like a soldier. "I don't want to go back to the castle just yet. Zelphar is intimidating, you know?"
Celvene's eyebrows drew together. The way Melantha's sentence ended sounded as though she wanted to continue—or she was unsure of what she was saying. Was there more to her feelings than being scared of a god?
"Are you okay?" she asked softly, and a frown twitched on Melantha's lips. "Is something else going on? You can tell me."
Melantha hesitated. Celvene's heart ached.
Of course she didn't trust her. Why would she?
It would be foolish for Melantha to place her trust in Celvene after she'd gone so many years believing Celvene to be a villain.
While Celvene couldn't help but feel a tad bit bitter about how Melantha's feelings were majorly misplaced, she also felt sympathetic.
Celvene knew how it felt to be alone—the long, restless nights she spent staring at an empty sky after an excruciating workout at the circus.
The snickers and laughter from her classmates as she sat alone at lunch, eating the feeble bun her parents had given her after sacrificing their own lunches to feed her.
While Melantha came from a place of privilege, that didn't mean she was immune to negative feelings.
And if she hadn't made any friends, maybe she could relate to Celvene more deeply than Celvene had believed.
Celvene sighed. "Did you move again after Noriya? Or have you been here since that day?"
"No." Melantha fidgeted with her sarong and stopped in front of a door. "But my parents did. My mother follows whatever my father says without complaint, and my father said he'd be back. I'm still waiting, but I'm starting to think..."
She stopped herself, sighing.
Celvene brushed a strand of hair behind her ear before curling it in her finger. She said nothing. She wasn't sure what she could say.
A small, melancholic smile curved the edges of Melantha's lips upwards. Her eyes glittered with a profound sadness, and she reached for the door's knob.
"You ready?" she asked.
Celvene shook her head. Hesitantly, she outstretched her own hand, letting her fingers brush Melantha's soft skin. Melantha's hand froze on the knob.
"Are you sure you're okay?" asked Celvene.
For the second time, Melantha hesitated. Her gaze fell to the floor, and she shifted. But then, a spark of hope lit in Celvene's heart as the soldier said, "No. But... I will be."
"Promise?" Their childhood flashed before Celvene's mind at the single word. So many memories tied to one whisper. An unspoken bond, where they could share anything on their mind—
Shattered.
Yet, to Celvene's surprise, Melantha's eyes softened, as did her smile. "Promise."
Before Celvene had time to process what Melantha had said, the soldier had swung the door open.
The scent of lavender and dew rolled into the hallway, accompanied by a gust of chilled air.
When Celvene craned her neck to get a better look into the darkened room, all she could see were dancing shadows.
"Come," Melantha said, holding the door open for Celvene. "It's time for you to meet the matron of Noriya's night."
Celvene stepped into the room, unable to see anything through the thick veil of black. She squinted, and Melantha nudged her from the side when Celvene stopped in her tracks to ogle at the darkness. Releasing a short, breathy chuckle, Celvene did her best to follow Melantha.
The further into the room they got, the more the light grew.
It was soft at first; a pale, gentle purple, reminiscent of twilight's streaked sky.
It grew brighter, as did the smell of rain.
They eventually walked into a pool of light, and Celvene was finally able to discern her surroundings.
Smoke poured out of a cauldron to her left, lathering the tiled floor in plumes of white.
Above her flew ancient books, the pages fluttering as they floated past her. And in front of her was... nothing.
"Nyx is responsible for making sure the dreams of citizens flow smoothly. It's a rare task from Zelphar himself. Since she's his child, she's delegated one of the more important tasks for the city that require powerful magic," Melantha said, running her hand through the smoke.
"Where is she?"
A squeal from above Celvene caused her to jump, and if she hadn't been stripped of her daggers, they'd have flown to the ready in her hands.
When she realized she was defenseless, her fists took the place of her imaginary weapons.
But even as she peered into the thick darkness above her, she couldn't see much of anything.
Melantha's hand latched onto her shoulder, and Celvene did her best to force herself to calm down. "Calm yourself, grishka bea. She won't hurt you."
As if on cue, a single head popped out of the smoke rolling in the air. Then another head. And finally, a third. Celvene curled her hand into a fist, fingernails digging into her skin as she resisted the urge to react.
"Oh, is this the mortal you were speaking of?
" one of the heads said, her voice light and feminine.
She dropped from the ceiling, her tall, curvy body floating with inexplicable grace.
She raised her feet into the air and kicked them behind her before lifting her hands to her face, framing her chin with her palms. "She's adorable, Melantha. "
Melantha pursed her lips. "Weren't you supposed to attend the king's council tonight? Why did you tell me you could meet?"
"Something came up," Nyx said, and a small smile twisted her blushed lips. "Why are you acting like you didn't ask me to dinner?"
Melantha said nothing for a moment, then she sighed. "You skipped out, didn't you? How are you still employed?"
Nyx's smile grew into a radiant grin, and she tilted her head down, strands of mulberry hair falling in front of her circular face.
The other heads that had been circulating on the ground popped up, and Celvene realized they were clones of Nyx.
The copies flew closer to Nyx, copying her body language. "I'm just that lovable, Melantha."
"Let's be realistic here, Nyx."
"You know you love me."
"Sure," Melantha said, rolling her eyes, but Celvene could see her smirk. "I don't love your cooking, though, so I hope you're going to surprise me. My guest isn't tolerable to spicy food, which I know you adore."
"Oh, you'll love what I've made, Melantha!
" Nyx beamed, letting her hands fall lax.
"I nabbed an apple from the ruins of Luxalia's garden.
Used some magic to multiply them and make a tart out of them.
Quite delicious, if I may say so." Nyx snapped her fingers, and the smoke cleared from the room.
Illumination poured from a light above them, and when Celvene looked back down, a rounded table accompanied by chairs appeared.
Nyx gestured to them. "Please, sit. You're an honored guest of ours, being the heiress to Aizasea's throne. "
Ruins? What happened to that garden? And did Melantha tell her of my mission?
"I thought everyone here would've hated me," Celvene said, sitting.
Nyx snapped her fingers again, and a plume of smoke rose.
Once it cleared, a small plate with a caramelized tart rested in front of her.
To its side was a wine glass filled with crimson liquid.
"You know, because I'm going to lead the land your land hates. .. and all. Stuff like that."
"You're not to blame for your leader's poor decisions. Or, ex-leader, I should say." Nyx's grin grew cheeky, and her eyes crinkled. "Unless you worked in his palace prior to this, of course. Then, perhaps, we'd have problems."
"No. No," Celvene said, twiddling her thumbs.
Nyx's gaze dropped to the wine glass, as if she expected Celvene to drink it—but Celvene couldn't. She couldn't shake the feeling that this was all a ruse.
A cleverly crafted ploy to get her to let her guard down.
She couldn't have been wrong all this time.
.. "I've only been in Aizasea for three years.
Not nearly enough time to cement myself in the castle, unless I joined the army. "
Celvene jumped as one of Nyx's clones flew right next to her ear, pressing its cheek to Celvene's.
"Eat! Drink!" it said, pointing to the food.
"Us clones spent so long preparing this meal for you.
We took your preferences into account and everything.
Well, the preferences Melantha told us of, at least."
Celvene bit her lip, pressing her thumb to her hand. She finally obliged, picking up the tart and taking a tiny bite. It tasted like flaky butter and apple. She swallowed and placed it back on the plate. Risking being poisoned wasn't worth an apple tart, even if it was from a mythical garden.
"What's your name, little mortal? All Melantha told us was that you're a guest of Noriya's and the heiress to Aizasea's throne. Zelphar never mentioned you by name, and..." Nyx's eyes flicked to Melantha, and she cocked her head. "Melantha was too flustered to get your name out."
"My name is Celvene. Do you enjoy it in Noriya?" How could you enjoy it?
"I like it here, even if others believe the city is twisted and evil. I'll always stand by my father. He may not have the most sound judgment at times, but I've been with him for centuries. I can't go back on that when I don't have a more favorable opportunity in store."
Celvene's mouth settled in a straight line. Suddenly, she wasn't a fan of Nyx.
When Celvene glanced at Melantha, the girl's eyes had widened, and she looked shocked at the revelation. Maybe she didn't know as much about Nyx as Celvene had assumed.
Was it a requirement for citizens of Noriya to act unpredictably?
Celvene hadn't had a chance to figure out Melantha's intentions and why the girl was so bitter, and Nyx threw herself into Celvene's life as another enigma.
At this point, Celvene was doubting whether she'd find someone in this city that she could understand.
Zelphar certainly wasn't panning out to be that figure.
"Cat got your tongue, miss Celvene?" Nyx asked.
"No," Celvene said. Her mouth went dry, and she ran her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "I'm... thinking. That's all. You bring up a valid point."
"Really? I've heard all about how feisty you are, and not just from Melantha.
I know your thoughts on me, even you're too scared to say them.
" The clones next to Celvene vanished, and she jumped.
Nyx's eyes glowed a bright purple, and she leaned forward, narrowing her eyes.
"So, tell me, little mortal. Why is it Aizasea believes us to be criminals, scoundrels, and murderers, when it is what your kind is known for? "