Aiden
My room is cleaned spotless when I re-enter. I don’t know how they did that but it leaves a stale taste in my mouth.
When Tusk leaves me, I rummage through my little belongings, making sure everything is still there. My weapons are still gone but, besides that, nothing seems out of place. Even the stuffed rabbit looks up at me from its sitting position. I shove it further down my bag so I don’t have to look at it.
All the glasses have been replaced in the rooms. The wine too. There’s not a single stain or drop of blood remaining. Even the mirror is whole again. This is messing with my head.
Tonight, when everyone is asleep, I’ll go back. I’ll find a way in.
I gather fistfulls of petals off the bed. They wilt instantly in my hands, transforming to ash before my eyes.
Aiden.
I stiffen where I stand, knowing that voice. Knowing what it means.
“It’s all in your head,” I repeat to myself under my breath. It’s not real. I spot a small vial by the bed stand, filled to the brim with small blue tablets. Without thinking, I grip it tight, the glass pressing indents into my palm. But I don’t open the lid. I only hold it. Feel it carved against my skin.
You cannot run forever.
You cannot hide from me.
“Go away,” I whisper. But it’s futile. I don’t have to look around to know it’s there.
For as long as you are Fire I will be your shadow.
A guttural yell tears itself from my lungs. I aim as I turn, sending the glass vial sailing straight toward the body length mirror hanging on the other end of the room. There is a split moment before contact where I see it, black limbs orchestrated above my head like a puppeteer. But it’s the look in my own eyes that sends a vile hatred coursing through me like a shockwave. And there’s a split second as it's suspended in air that I think maybe, all this time, the real monster has been me.
The glass explodes and, with it, the mirage.
Shards rain down the walls like water, twinkling and chiming as they fall. The last thing I hear is its foul laugh ringing in my ears, coming from my own mouth.
I run through the glass to cover the remaining mirrors in each and every room.
But the fear and hatred linger. It’s all that does as of late. And a small breath of doubt that maybe this won’t help as much as I thought, whatever it is I'm doing here. Because, at the end of the day, even with Clovis Lynch gone, I still have to live with myself. But no, I can’t think like that. Because that insinuates I’m doing this for myself and I’m not. I’m doing this for the world, for the people. Because a world without her tyranny is a better world for everyone.
Right.
When night falls I creep out of my gold tinted prison. I make sure to wait until I’m sure Tusk and the other familiar faces I’ve seen walking the halls are asleep.
Without the mask of daylight, this place has a different feel to it. It feels much less important. More hospital-like beneath the white lights. I find a twinge of sadness in my gut as I remember walking the late night halls in the Alloy to get to the training room, practically running to get there as fast as I could. Just to see him. But the windows outside remind me how far in the past it all is now.
The sorrow quickly turns to rage. To pain. But, as much as I try, I can’t point the extent of my anger toward Alex. I just keep seeing the distraught look on his face when I turned and left. The desperation. He looked beyond shattered, like a child again, the same kid I saw in those memories hiding his little sister from his own father. It’s obvious he never thought such a thing could come from... whatever it was he was doing.
But he should know better than anyone that actions have consequences. He should know that trusting Clovis for whatever reason is a fucking mistake. I hope he knows now. And I know it’s cruel but I hope he’s suffering. Suffering as much as I am. Without him.
I want to hate him but I can’t. This immeasurable ache in my chest does not stem from hate. Only love could hurt this fucking bad. And my heart does not care what he’s done, the mistakes he’s made, no matter how horrible. It aches for him all the same. I wish I could just tear it out of my chest and be rid of it.
The last thing I need right now is my emotions clouding my vision. Even if it’s killing me inside.
I check left and right, ensuring the coast is clear before creeping up to the two grand translucent doors. I catch the shape of my face in the reflection. The pain so clear in my eyes it looks like I could start crying at any moment. I steady my breathing, stare back at myself until I’m convinced I’ve masked all this that I’m feeling.
I hold my palm up to the glass, closing my eyes. It’s there, the energy. But it feels somewhat different than before. Stronger now. When I open my eyes again, the runes are glowing a bright bluish white, humming with electricity. It’s not like Atlas to have sigils. So what is this? Why does it feel so weird?
Trying my gift out again on the doors seems like a bad idea all of a sudden. I foolishly thought I could figure this out rather quickly. But that was wishful thinking. This isn’t going to be as easy as I thought.
There has to be another way in, something I’m missing. But how am I going to get out of here? Should I try a window? No, those are bulletproof too. And even if i did manage to break one open, we’re so far up from the ground that that sounds like a suicide mission.
But each day I spend trapped here is a day wasted.
“The enchantment runs on a lunar cycle, as does most magic here.”
I freeze, my heart sinking down to my chest. I’ve been caught.
How did I not hear them coming? It’s so quiet here, and there’s an echo.
“I-I was only-” I stammer to the glass, pandering for a way out of this one. What lie would be believable in this situation? No matter what I say it would be suspicious. To be here alone at night…
“Trying to find a way into the palace,” the stranger behind me finishes. I wince. No matter what I say to excuse my actions, he’s right.
I turn, a poor excuse on the tip of my tongue, but I pause when I see him. Something about him strikes me as familiar. Though I can’t put my finger on it.
His warm amber eyes match his warm complexion. A tuft of black curls tumble from atop his head, swept neatly away from his face, his full lips lifted in a small smile, an almost mischievous look that juxtaposes his well-kept half suit and polished gray shoes.
He’s young, maybe a few years older than me, but his posture makes him seem much older. His body language doesn’t seem hostile. He looks almost... amused. So I take a gamble. I tell him the truth. A half truth.
“Yes,” I smile sheepishly. “To be frank, two weeks is far too long to wait and see him. My means are rather urgent.”
“And, if I may, what is so urgent that you’re willing to break in during the middle of the night to tell him?”
“I have some news. About the war. Some ways I can be of assistance.”
A flash of recognition crosses his face but it’s swiftly and skillfully masked in an instant.
“There is no war,” he says too easily. But something in his eyes tells me he knows exactly what I’m telling him. That look he’s giving me…
“I need to see him.” I say with as much confidence as I can muster.
“And who are you to demand such a thing from Our Covenant?” the stranger asks, amber eyes twinkling in expectation, his voice a sharp mockery of the way the elitists speak here, close but not quite as eloquent and distinct. Something tells me I can trust him, at least for this. I roll up my sleeves to the elbows, enough to show the black inked markings that curl up my forearms.
“Someone he would want to see.”
The stranger blinks. Composed. But, just for a moment, his lip twitches up in a smile. “The runes grow stronger at night. And even stronger during the full moon, which just so happens to be tomorrow night.” So forget any chance of breaking in, I practically hear him add silently.
I raise a brow at his words, his unspoken ones.
“I don’t suppose you know of a way in,” I ask hastily.
“That’s hardly the question is it? It’s more: how urgent is this matter of yours? What would you be willing to sacrifice to see him? And is it worth his time?”
“So you do know of a way in,” I mumble, doing my best to suppress an eye roll.
“Well?” he asks, ignoring my statement. I don’t have time for games.
“Listen, I don’t know what you’re playing at but I already told you my matter is urgent. This is between life or death for many people, gifted and mortal alike. You want to talk about sacrifice? I lost everything coming here. Everything. I have no home. No family. No friends. No people I belong to. So don’t talk to me about risks. I know the gamble I made coming here as a wanted man. And I know the consequences too. You want to belittle me? Do it on the other side of these fucking doors!” The last sentence shoots out of my mouth like a small growl between my clenched teeth as I slam my hand on the glass.
Fuck playing nice. When has that ever gotten me anywhere? The fuck does he know about sacrifice? About me?
Without realizing, the tips of my fingers begin to spark. I take a deep breath, control it. I’m in control. I’m in control. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. When I open my eyes, I’m back to normal again. If I let him get to me, I've already lost. I have to be more than myself here, more than my emotions.
The stranger pauses. Looks me up and down with a concentrated frown.
“What did you say your name was again? Your family name?”
“I didn’t,” I say after a pause. “Why do you ask?”
“You just remind me of someone. That’s all.”
“Aiden Brooks. Ring any bells?” He shakes his head, black curls bouncing.
“No. I’m afraid it does not.”
"And what was your name?”
“Vincent. Vincent Espinoza.” I don’t know why that name makes me pause. I can’t say I’ve ever heard it before.
“Well did I pass your test, Vincent?”
“I’m not the one you need to worry about,” he hums.
“What do you mean?”
“This door is the first of many precautions the palace takes. Not anyone can just waltz in there. It’s armed to the teeth.”
“You mean - you’re going to help me in?”
“I never said that. In fact, if I see you here again, Mr. Brooks, you’ll be in a lot of trouble. Take my warning into consideration. Others will not be so forgiving of trespass or misconduct.”
His words are practiced and careful. But I cannot help but feel like he’s trying to tell me something… something he can’t say out loud. It’s that look again, the glint in those honey colored eyes.
“You won’t,” I say quickly. You won’t catch me.
“Good. I swing by tomorrow morning and it would really put a damper on my meeting tomorrow if I have to give our new guest anything short of a warm welcome. Understand?”
“Clearly.”
He’ll be gone after noon? But that still leaves the question - how do I get in?
“In other news, have you seen the greenhouse on this floor yet? It’s a must while you’re here. The hellebores are striking this time of year.” The greenhouse?
“I’ll make sure to check them out.”
Vincent nods politely, any trace of mischief erased from his features.
“Wonderful meeting you face to face, Aiden. And sanctum be our covenant.”
He’s gone soon after, a brisk hop in his step. And I am left wondering what the hell I just agreed to. And why I would ever dare trust anyone here, let alone a worker of these grounds.
***
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