Chapter 35 Quiet As Death
Quiet As Death
Asterious
Asterious opened his eyes to his cheek pressed against the cold stone floor and chains shackled around his ankles.
At least they’d held this time. His clothes were tattered, and his head throbbed maddeningly.
The fear that he was losing himself once again pierced him like an icy dagger to the chest. All the discipline and pain he’d endured to control his emotions now seemed it had been for nothing.
Because now, because of Caramyn, they were returning with a vengeance.
Each night since she'd come to the Forbidden Court, they’d grown stronger.
And he’d grown weaker. He could lose himself.
He could lose the kingdom. He could be its very downfall if he did not regain control.
He reached for the key to the shackles, ashamed he’d had to resort to this. He would have to stop caring about her. He couldn’t be angry with her, or hurt, or even concerned. He must simply make himself feel nothing, whatever it took.
When all else fails, make it hurt worse. Until the pain makes you forget the feeling.
But now, that was much harder to do. Now he couldn’t just pick up a blade to dig into his own flesh like Wyran had taught him to do.
In the war camps he could easily gash himself open whenever he felt the feelings growing too powerful.
But his current condition prevented him from so much as touching even a butter knife.
And he needed the pain, needed the distraction—the catalyst for numbness—more than ever.
Unlocking himself and rising to wash the night from his body, he splashed water across his face in the stone basin in the corner.
The cracked mirror above it stared back at him, a reminder of the man behind the monster—behind the silvery black veins ominously claiming his body—the shattered pieces on the floor like the missing pieces of himself.
He ran a hand through his black hair, brushing it back from his eyes, and then dressed in pants, a well-fit tunic, and his typical dark overcoat, ensuring he buttoned it all the way up to his neck.
He couldn’t risk those newly formed creeping veins peeking through.
As he reached for the handle of the great blood red door before him, he drew in a breath, leaving his demons behind with his shackles.
Now it was time once more to play the part of the noble prince.
The walk through the maze of hallways in the castle still wasn’t long enough to reset his thoughts. “Morning.” He nodded to the men in the breakfast hall as he entered.
Taking a seat next to his usual four friends, he guzzled down a fresh pint of ale.
“A bit early for drink, eh, Your Highness?” Tyrios nudged him, flashing his teeth.
He noted Wryan’s uncharacteristic silence and watchful eye from the corner of the table, and knew he was probably still sulking over their interaction yesterday evening.
“Perhaps.” He braced his brow at the pungent taste as the drink stung his insides. “But it was…a rough night.”
“That's a bit worrisome, given we have such a big day ahead of us.” Tyrios took a bite of bread spread with some sort of orange jam. “You’re certain you’re still…controlled…enough to make this journey?”
“I’m certain I have no other choice but to try. Time is running out.” Asterious nodded, forcing himself to eat a bite of food. “Are all preparations made? Weapons? Rations?”
“Everything should be ready. It’s just a matter of you giving the order.” Wryan spoke up, leaning back in his chair.
“Which, respectfully, should be sooner rather than later.” Gariel chimed in with a nod. “There have been more reports of Sinevia burning crops to punish resistant cities. She’ll send the whole land into famine soon. The whole kingdom will be too weak to rebuild before long if we don’t—”
Asterious held up a hand to spare himself the lecture.
“I’m well aware of the urgency of the matter.
” He glanced between the four men. “But our best hope of reaching the Shadowblood’s sword lies locked in the tower with the girl.
And, unfortunately, she’s no longer part of the plan.
” When met with questioning eyes, he realized Wryan must not have shared the news amongst them.
“But if she’s a Shadowblood...why are her eyes violet instead of solid black? Why don’t her markings cover her entire body?” Riven shook his head in disbelief.
“She says her mother was a Lightborn.” Asterious sighed.
“Her mother? How? Shadowbloods aren’t born. They were…well—made…at the Shattering.” Tyrios stuttered. “How can that be?”
“I…I don’t know. And she claimed she didn’t understand it either.
” The prince glanced between them. “But it doesn’t matter now.
You know as well as I do that Shadow amplifies my curse.
I cannot let her come with us. I can’t risk this thing taking over out in the open again.
I can’t risk killing you all and being trapped as a monster forever. ” Asterious hung his head.
“We don’t know for sure that she’s the only way to the weapon.” Gariel interjected. “We were close before.”
“Yes, we were. And then we found her.” Asterious nodded, taking another swig of his drink.
“I don’t know what fate we will meet by venturing in there without her.
Which is why I will be the only one going in to find the Blade without any of you.
My curse might serve useful for once if it at least gives me a chance of surviving long enough to find it. But I won’t risk any of you.”
“That’s admirable, Asterious, but you know we will gladly give our lives for your cause if need be.” Tyrios clasped his hands together and leaned forward on the table.
“I do know that. And that’s why you are not dispensable to me.
I will not risk your lives for mine.” Asterious looked down at his nearly empty cup before speaking again.
“I’ll figure out how to get through the Shadow Woods, even if I have to do it alone.
” He said, trying to convince himself as much as them.
“Speaking of the girl, I haven’t had a chance to inform Azell of the change in arrangements.
I need to give her the key so she can bring her breakfast. Wyran, do you still have it? ”
He held out a hand to Wyran as he stood, scanning the large hall for any sign of Azell. Wryan stood as well and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I can bring a meal up to her, Your Highness,” he offered. “To spare you the trouble.”
“Hmm, all right.” Asterious raised an eyebrow, putting his hand back by his side. “I assume last night was uneventful?”
“Quiet as death, inside and out.” Wryan selected a plate of fruit, poached eggs, and oatmeal and exited the great hall.
Asterious watched him until he was out of sight and then sat back down with his head in his hands.
Something felt wrong. But he concluded his mind was too burdened to differentiate the sense of foreboding from stress.
There was truly so much to be done, with no idea if any of it was truly the right answer.
Time was running out for his sister, the kingdom—and for him. And he was beginning to doubt himself.
A few moments later, hurried footsteps burst through the dining hall, demanding everyone’s attention. The prince whirled around to see Wryan, his face looking like he’d just dropped something fragile and valuable and watched it shatter on the floor.
“Prince Asterious!” He spat out the words as if he was going to choke on them if he didn’t speak fast enough. “The girl is gone! She must’ve escaped this morning!”
“What? How? She wouldn’t…” He should just let her leave. He shouldn’t care if she was gone. But he did.
“There’s no sign of her. The door was unlocked.”
“And you’re certain you have the key?”
Wyran pulled the key from his pocket and held it up, something smug about his movements.
Asterious shook his head. “I want round-the-clock guards posted everywhere we can spare. Be vigilant. I’ve angered her.
She could be hiding out in the castle somewhere waiting to take her revenge.
” That wasn’t true. That wasn’t true at all.
But it was the only thing he could think of to justify why he would order his men to waste their time looking for her when there were far greater things at stake.
“We’ll search for her all we can while you’re gone, Your Highness,” a guardsman reassured from the hall.
“I won’t be gone today.” Asterious said, earning himself shocked expressions from Riven, Tyrios, and Gariel. “Not until she’s found. We’ll push off the journey— at least for one more day.”
“Your Highness, we can’t afford much more time.” Riven said.
“Just one more day.” He swallowed, looking straight ahead.
“Isn’t this what you wanted, Asterious?” Wyran asked, stepping close. “She’s gone. You were going to send her away later today anyway.”
“Y—yes. It is what I wanted.” The prince stuttered, not sure why he couldn’t explain the sinking feeling in his heart. And not sure why it was even there, as he watched the dining hall clear out as his men went to search the castle. “Just...not like this.”
No further words were spoken amongst the five, and they disbanded. Asterious saddled his horse to search the grounds, the forests, and the cliffs by the sea, and he stayed out searching until the moon called him back.
He wished he could have at least said goodbye, and that he could’ve at least watched her ride away on Frasya and known she was safe.
And he wished he knew why he cared. He’d disciplined himself not to lose control to grief, pain, anger, or even joy—and he had the scars to prove it.
But he’d never prepared himself for this kind of feeling that seemed to have complete power over him.
A feeling he could not name and therefore did not know how to defeat.
As he rode beneath the stars in the crisp night air, he questioned everything he thought he knew and forced himself to accept that if Caramyn was truly gone, he’d give anything to change the last thing he said to her, because it stung like salt in a wound, replaying in his head.
I never want to see you again.