XXVIII | THE RISING SUN
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Celvene's heart dropped in her chest as realization dawned on her. What if he used Melantha as a pawn? For what, Celvene didn't know—but she did know that, above all else, the people here would do whatever it took to ensure their own survival.
Too many years of a blood-soaked conflict and brutish soldiers who refused to lose their lives told Celvene all she needed to know: the soldiers of Noriya were willing to do whatever it took to remain ahead of Aizasea, whether it was by slaughtering Aizasean citizens and fighters, or infiltrating their lands to unravel the streets, brick by brick.
Where else would they have learned that?
None other than Zelphar, of course. He wanted something from her—perhaps it was her drive to succeed that intrigued him.
She knew she was the deserving queen, and she would go to great lengths to keep the crown out of Aleksandr's hands.
Otherwise, she would have refused his humiliating offer to scrub floors and embarrass herself as his inferior.
She'd do anything to take her throne from Aleksandr, and Zelphar recognized that. Using Melantha as leverage as a tool in his plan for Noriya and Aizasea's fates would be worth it in his eyes.
And Celvene wasn't sure if she had the strength to let Melantha fall in her place.
She wasn't sure if she had the strength to let anyone fall for her—the guilt would eat her alive at allowing an innocent person to fall to see her live.
But Melantha especially... whatever she and Celvene had, however complicated, was something that just made Celvene even weaker than she normally would be in this situation.
Relatively speaking, of course; she'd never been in a situation like this before.
It was difficult to get a sense of "normalcy. "
Let her fall, a dark voice said—one that was not her own. Celvene shuddered, shaking off the thought. Who was that? She frowned.
"Our king has requested to see you," one of the soldiers, a fair-skinned woman with fiery red hair, said. Her companion, a dark-skinned man with his coiled hair tied back, nodded in agreement. Celvene rolled her eyes.
"For what reason?"
The man shrugged. "We're not told the specifics. One of the frinigari is with him, and he said he wanted to speak with both of you."
Celvene was up in a flash, chains rattling against themselves. "Melantha?"
"Maybe. The frinigari tend not to interact with separate divisions much. They're the elite of the palace and shouldn't waste breath on us."
Against her better judgment, Celvene held up her hands to be unbound. "Take me to her."
Her cell door creaked as it swung open, and her hands were freed in seconds. Foolish trust once again, if for a fleeting moment, but Celvene didn't have the courage to fight back. She wasn't sure she ever would.
The tip of the woman's spear was pressed against her back right after; they weren't choosing to trust Celvene, and she couldn't blame them.
She was led out of the cell without a word.
She stumbled as the guards pushed her up a flight of stairs, but she kept herself upright, gaze trained on the ground.
She didn't need to pay attention to her path—the guards would do it for her.
A low humming noise breaking the silence intrigued Celvene far too much for her attention to stay pivoted on the tile, however. She angled her eyes up.
And, for the first time, Celvene saw the innocents of Noriya.
They looked like normal Fellstridens, though their skin didn't stick to their bones, and their faces weren't gaunt and haunted with the horrors of famine and war.
They all looked genuinely happy, with smiles that reached their eyes and laughter that echoed throughout the castle's walls.
Celvene frowned. Was there an event at the castle they were attending, or was it common for mortals to visit?
There was a reason Celvene was never allowed at Virion's castle before her ceremony—she wasn't worthy.
And the unworthy were never to step foot inside the polished building.
Celvene had heard several Aizasean were arrested when they tried, with the guards citing "protection for the king" as their reasoning.
A pity their protection was so lax the night Virion died.
"Keep moving," the female guard said, voice gruff. The pressure on her back increased, and she winced.
"You don't need to be so harsh with your weapon, soldier," she said.
"You're lucky we have orders not to kill you, Aizasean. I wanted to slit your throat the moment I laid eyes on your revolting, tainted body."
Celvene bit back a shiver of disgust. All the doubts she'd harbored about the true morality of Noriya soldiers were shattered in an instant.
But she was protected by Zelphar's word.
He needed her, for now. And she'd live to see another day without falling into his trap if she played her cards right.
A shame she wouldn't have a silencing dome from Painted Sky hanging over her this time.
The closer to the throne room they walked, though, the stronger the feeling of Celvene being... wrong about everything grew. Wrong about Melantha. Wrong about Noriya. Wrong about Aizasea.
What if Zelphar was the hero, and Virion was the villain? What if Noriya had always been using their conquest for good? What if Melantha was just as rotten as Celvene used to believe? Or... did she still believe that? She couldn't tell. Her head throbbed.
The doors to the throne room were already cracked open, and the female soldier wasted no time in pushing Celvene through. She stumbled once again, and thought about bucking her foot back in the process, but reluctantly decided not to.
Celvene glanced up at the throne—it was empty.
She directed her gaze to the side, stifling a gasp.
Zelphar was out of his throne. He stood beside Melantha, who'd been kicked to the ground and had her hands bound.
Her eyes were wide, her hair was tousled in crazed waves, and a thin sheen of sweat glimmered on her pale skin.
A blade was pressed against her throat by a guard. The center of the sword glowed hues of purple, surrounded by obsidian. Even from far away, Celvene could see inscriptions etched into the sword, which thrummed with power.
Celvene opened her mouth, and her unspoken words rested on the tip of her tongue: what happened?
She wasn't able to verbalize it, however, and all that escaped her mouth was an embarrassing, confused wheeze.
While she'd expected Melantha to be used as a bartering tool, she hadn't expected Zelphar to go to these lengths—to his own soldier, no less.
Zelphar clasped his hands behind his back, stoicity written on his features. He looked displeased.
"Welcome back," he said.
Celvene didn't respond.
Zelphar studied her face for a moment before his dark eyes dropped to Melantha, who stiffened. "I realize my methods are brutish. I am copying what I've heard of your kind doing. Is it true Aizasean mutilate the bodies of goats to drink the blood from?"
"Is it true Noriya soldiers violate the bodies of those they kill?"
"Of course not," Zelphar replied, speaking with a calmness Celvene wished she could summon.
But instead, her heart raced in her chest, yearning to escape its frantic cage.
A small, small smile crossed Zelphar's lips.
"You look startled. I truly believed you'd feel welcomed by a showing of your culture. "
She cursed herself. She expected this, and she thought she'd planned for it.
But here she was, a fool in front of a godly king, gaping at him like he'd just murdered her beloved puppy.
She didn't even know why she was reacting so strongly.
She knew, while she cared for Melantha, she couldn't erase their past. And their past hurt—it wasn't something Celvene was going to be able to forget, even if she wanted to.
It was a fool's wish. She knew Melantha felt the same.
They were no longer friends, even if Celvene missed her laughter, and the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled, and. ..
She shook her head. Why was she getting distracted when Melantha's life was on the line?
"What do you want with me?" she asked. "My head?"
Zelphar's nose crinkled. "Bestial. No, Celvene. I want to discuss our terms."
"Why are Melantha's hands bound? I don't want to discuss your grand plan with her being treated like an animal."
Melantha said nothing, but her lip quivered.
Zelphar flicked his hand, and the guard holding the blade kept his grip steady as he dropped to one knee, undoing her binds with his free hand. After a few moments, the ropes fell loose, but Melantha made no move to adjust herself.
Zelphar sighed. "You don't believe in Noriya's cause. It's quite obvious. I cannot change your mind, seeing as you're unnecessarily determined in remaining stalwart, but I refuse to let you walk free when we can both benefit one another."
"I refuse to believe you can benefit me. There's no other reason you'd feel the need to use Melantha as leverage."
"Melantha has been feeding you lies. She knows I see all, so I'm unsure of why she thought it was intelligent to speak to you in such a manner, but I digress.
" Zelphar's eyes narrowed, and a scar slicing his lip thinned as he frowned.
One of his eyes twitched slightly. "And while she disobeyed me, she has still been a loyal part of my army for years, which is why she wasn't executed for treachery on the spot.
She redeemed herself, though: she was the one who came up with the idea to act as 'leverage,' as you put it. "
One look at Melantha, with her big, unblinking eyes and slight pout, told Celvene everything she needed to know: Zelphar was lying.
He couldn't see all, and Celvene knew that.
He was a child of Xomaldir, and he was a demigod; he didn't have the power to be all-knowing.
But if Celvene accused him of that, he could give the command to run the weapon across Melantha's throat.
She curled her hand into a fist, wishing she'd asked Khamisi to teach her more than the basics. If she knew how to properly wield a sword, she would not have hesitated to cut down every single soldier in the room.
"What are your terms?" she asked. She kept her gaze fixed on Melantha, refusing to look at Noriya's king. But Zelphar knew he had her attention. They both knew it. She'd play along, and perhaps even accept what he laid down.
A dangerous queen for a dangerous king.
"I grant you more of the powers my brother held. You can pave a path to that throne with the full power Virion possessed. There is no other way you can topple an army by yourself."
"You and I both know I cannot become a demigod. Your words are meaningless. What are you given in return?"
"An end to this war."
"That's all?"
Zelphar stilled. "Justice for my brother."
Celvene's response was a glare. She refused to believe Zelphar didn't play a hand in Virion's death.
There was no feasible way that a Noriya soldier could infiltrate Aizasea on their own with no sense of direction.
The weapon Zelphar possessed seemed powerful, too.
It wasn't a normal sword you'd see while strolling along a road.
How had he gotten it? Celvene's eyes settled on Melantha, who held her gaze, like she knew what Celvene was thinking.
What if Melantha gave them the weapon? She's done business in Aizasea before. Maybe there was someone there...
But she shook it away.
"You're willing to give me the key to ending this war," Celvene said, "but I can easily turn it against you and win the war for Aizasea. This war would've been over long ago if Virion had prepared his soldiers."
Truth be told, she would appreciate a leg up against Aleksandr. But she wasn't willing to risk the lives of the innocent people in Aizasea.
While some may have preferred choosing blood over honor, Celvene couldn't resign herself to a fate like that.
To know she was responsible for more soldiers dying, and civilians when the time inevitably came.
And she had an inkling it was more than peace Zelphar wanted—he wanted an easy way into Aizasea. For what purpose, Celvene didn't know.
A breathy bark of laughter slipped past Zelphar's lips.
"Of course, my child. And this war would've been over long ago if I decided to not give your kind mercy.
Your demigods and citizens are unwilling to fight.
It would have been a quick battle if I told my soldiers to slaughter every Aizasean they saw. "
Celvene rested her hand against her forearm, stifling a sigh. "And what if I refuse?"
The blade was pressed further into Melantha's throat, almost breaking skin. Melantha yelped, then bit her lip.
"I know you care for this girl. I've no quarrel with ending the life of a traitor, even if she has proven useful over the years.
If she continues down a path of darkness, she'll fall to Aizasea's clutches; I've seen it happen once, and I vowed another child of mine would not succumb to your wicked ways.
I'm not a savage, though. I do not like seeing blood spill, and I do not like having to kill one of my own.
The blade will kill her as soon as it gains a taste of her blood.
Melantha resigned herself to this fate when she told you lies threaded with promise. "
"So you were lying," Celvene replied, voice chilled. Only her eyes were colder. "Is that not going against your own virtues?"
"I will do whatever it takes to save these lands. My brother betrayed us, as did his people. I cared for him. I did not care for those who followed."
"You're evil," Celvene hissed.
"No. I am simply doing what it takes to protect Noriya.
Aizasea is filled with tramps and traitors.
The Aizaseans are there for no other reason than their broken morals.
You believe me a monster, but I'm helping control the fate of Fellstride.
The strong will survive, while the weak fall, as the world should be. Your city is among the weakest."
Celvene's gaze hardened. Zelphar's gaze lightened, almost amused.
He smiled. "No one in Aizasea is worth saving, but everyone in Noriya is worth protecting. I am being kind in offering to let your city stand. I've resisted the urge to burn it to the ground, but that itch for its demise has never quite been scratched."
"If you harm her with that blade," Celvene forced out, voice quivering, "I will make sure Noriya is destroyed. Brick by brick. Soldier by soldier. Everyone will fall by my hand. And I will whisper to your dying children that it was all your fault."
She would ignore his threats to Aizasea—for now. They were not in imminent danger. Melantha was.
"Your threats hold no merit, child. I know you to be powerless. Your novice spells cannot force a city to its knees."
"You will see just how powerful these novice spells can be.
" Though she had no runespowder and no weapons, none of the guards around her had guns, bows, or crossbows.
She could take a weapon from a nearby soldier if worst came to worst, even if she didn't know how to use it properly, save for Khamisi's lessons.
She'd go out fighting. "I refuse to bow to a dissolute tyrant. "
"My terms are still on the table," Zelphar said, tilting his head up.
From this angle, Celvene could see another scar threaded through his eyebrow.
Ignoblest sparkled in his stormy eyes. "If you accept, I will set her free.
She will be banished from my city, but she will live as a traitor.
That's far more merciful than she deserves.
And you—well, you can live as a hero. As a god.
I can make you someone feared. Someone revered.
A child of divinity and power. You would be amongst the most able beings on Fellstride.
With my help, taking the throne of your city will be easy. "
Celvene met Melantha's eyes, which were swimming with fear.
She then angled her glare back towards Zelphar, who was awaiting her response with a small smirk etched on his grisled lips.
His gaze was expectant, patient, hungry.
He knew she was too weak to fight against him, and he was right. Wasn't he?
"Fine," whispered Celvene. "We have a deal."
Zelphar's grin widened, shimmering with ravenous, insatiable desire.
His streaked hair, flattened by his golden crown, was flipped backwards by a careless hand.
He gestured to the guard pressing the weapon against Melantha's throat, and the woman lowered the blade with exaggerated slowness. Then, he stepped forward.
"Come," he said. "Let it be sealed."
Celvene remained silent, and a guard walked up, stilling behind her. She felt no pressure, so she imagined she wasn't being monitored with a weapon. Just trust. Or, better put, stupidity.
Zelphar constructed a rune, and in no time, the crackling magic glowed a vibrant red.
Corruption magic, Celvene realized.
He's sealing me to a deal with corruption magic after he's promised to allow me to use it.
No other magic school glowed red; the closest was fire, which was a soft, fiery orange.
This was the unmistakable flicker of murderous magic.
Wait. Was that why her thoughts had twisted between trusting and distrusting everything around her, even when she knew better?
How she kept thinking about how she could be wrong, despite knowing what she'd experienced in Aizasea?
How she kept wondering if Noriya was truly the perfect place to live?
Zelphar was in her head. He was corrupting her thoughts. If she wasn't careful, he'd corrupt more than just her mind.
There was only one option.
Traces of whispers swirled in the air, curses and immortal phrases laced with corruption magic. The rune hummed, a low, grating noise that signaled it was almost ready. It was almost time. Celvene braced herself, inhaling.
And then she rushed forward.
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