Chapter 12: To the Heroes

Elliott was staring at Iselda sitting across the dining table. She looked pretty happy and delighted as she ate a spoonful of soup in front of her. Laima, on her left side, looked more refreshed, not playing with her food for the first time since she arrived at the castle. Elliott’s eyes darted between them the whole dinner. He didn’t get this weird aura coming off them. They looked disgustingly sheepish with each other, which was the exact situation before their wedding. Also, they were spending more and more time in Iselda’s room, and Elliott wasn’t allowed to reach that side of the castle. He was getting sick of his mothers…

Yes, he was calling them mothers now, because after the wedding, Iselda preached to him to call them so that they wouldn't ruin their front. It had been a while since the wedding. Elliott was still learning how time worked in these Tunnels with a private tutor Iselda hired especially for him. So, it had been one, three, five months since the wedding, and his new duties as a prince were just… learning. He had various tutors for each subject. He needed to learn geography so he could have an opinion about other Tunnels and their folk. He had math, physics, and power-wielding courses every month. No, week. He didn’t know that much. But for him, it was regular torture.

Also, Laima forced him to attend her newly found interest in taking charge of the army, as well as teaching Elliott how to use a sword, on his scale of course. He liked swords. He was relatively better at them than the other subjects, like geography, ugh. He liked power-wielding courses too, because he was channeling his core to create little changes. He couldn’t do much, though he was still okay with the results; it felt like he was meditating.

Daniel was helping too. Like in his room, leaning against the back of the bed while holding the mirror and wearing the ring, Daniel was teaching him about his Tunnel. Apparently, they had a queendom like Iselda’s. All of their members were white-haired, as well as soldiers. But everything changed when a civil war broke through the Tunnel. There was blood and cruelty. The army marched down to the palace, the Queen’s head on the tip of their spear, yelling their wishes. They took over the Tunnel’s control so they could change the land as they dreamed of. Daniel stopped mid-sentence. He was busy braiding his long hair again. Elliott observed that it was something he did when he felt restless.

“They tortured so many of us just because we were different, just because we didn’t choose to be soldiers,” he gulped, “like them,” he finished. He looked sorrowful when he talked about the Naturalist Tunnel. However, he was always kind to Elliott, so he didn’t mind telling stories belonging to an ancient Tunnel, burned, ravaged, and gone.

“There were good things in those Tunnels, though.” He smiled, wiping the tears from his cheeks. “I remember the soft touch of my mother and the mischievous smirks on my comrades’ faces when we were stationed at a circus.” He let himself laugh at the memory. He regretted his decision to talk about these matters: the mother whose touch he would never feel again, and the comrades whose bloody end he had witnessed. He sniffed. “Your power will help us open our Tunnel, Els. Believe in it.” He made a fist with one hand and extended it for Elliott to bump into, something they had grown accustomed to by now. Elliott reached his hand to the surface of the little mirror and bumped into it without knocking.

“Do you think we can open our Tunnel?” He was astonished by the idea. “Like I learned today that we need three people of the same kind as we are.” He showed his three fingers to Daniel so he would get his point, that the revival of their Tunnel would not be an easy task if he thought about how he was alone, only ten years old, with zero knowledge about his power and how to use it, as well as Daniel being trapped in a mirror. Yeah, that too…

Daniel nodded slowly. He opened his mouth to speak and closed it again, again and again. “It wouldn’t be easy, of course, little guy. I know you are just so young.” He narrowed his eyes at Elliott, reminding him again how difficult this process was. Daniel wasn’t suggesting it because it was easy; it was Elliott’s mission, perhaps his life’s purpose. He was going to be a hero, like the heroes in the books Iselda found and read in her library. He was going to be the one who opened the Naturalist Tunnel.

“Your powers have time to develop. Normally, when you reach puberty, they develop so you can defend yourself. But sometimes it is earlier than that. It was for me, so take care of yourself and always look for opportunities to shine.” A smile crept its way to Daniel’s lips. He stopped braiding his hair. “Oh, and your mothers are warming up to the thought of getting rid of that mirror restriction,” he fake-coughed into his fist. “Don’t ask how I know it. Just know that we will be free to talk anytime.”

Elliott brightened at the bare thought of the restrictions being lifted. Frankly, he liked the late-night mysterious talks with Daniel. They made him feel like some sort of undercover agent, discovering the truth of being a Naturalist. “I kind of like our talks in the middle of the night. Prowling around the castle to gain some information about myself was fun. Now where is the fun in that if we can connect anytime?” He pulled his legs up to his chin and hugged them tightly.

When he was about to say another word, Daniel interfered. “Oh no, no, no.” He shook his head and wagged his finger to reject what Elliott was saying, his tone dead serious. “Elli, no! No connecting everywhere like you want! We still need our private counseling time. We don’t need to be scared of Iselda or whatever during that process, that’s my point. No one has to know you are talking to me, or-” He brought his fingers together, twisted them, made a small phew sound, and drew his hands apart as if animating a blast. “We will be gone for good, buddy.”

Elliott gulped and hugged his legs tighter to his body. “Okay,” he murmured, barely audible. He gave the impression of unwillingness to Daniel, but he was over the moon with the secrecy. It looked like a game to his pretty green eyes.

But he would learn that it wasn’t.
It was a harsh deal.
It wasn’t about games and heroes.
It was about politics.
It was about sacrifice.
About love.
And
Death
In return.

But under his comforter, pulled up to his chest, with Laima’s soft goodnight still ringing in his ears and Iselda’s kiss still damp on his temple, when he was just ten years old, cozy in his bed, he didn’t imagine the cruelty of the world, the greyness it contained, and how it injected itself into people: into him, into Laima, into Iselda, into Daniel…

When they were alone in Iselda’s chambers, Laima bumped her temple against the main door, still holding the knob.

“Why?”

Iselda turned around to face Laima, her face illuminated by the streetlight. She hadn’t turned on her own lighting yet. “What why?”

“Why did you do it? Was she forcing you into something?” She slightly turned to return Iselda’s gaze.

“You are not making any sense right now, Laima. What did I do?” She harshly discarded her earrings, toed off her shoes, tossing them somewhere onto the floor.

“You killed your mother. I read some old written documents between your mother and another chairman of the Tunnels. She wished for your marriage with another man from Pyra. She offered them heirs and unison between their Tunnels.” She threw her head back, eyes examining the patterns of the ceiling, the ceiling she had been seeing a lot these days. She was getting close to Iselda. They were sharing their beds. They were melting into each other’s touch, their mouths diving deeper, the sweetness of their talk giving both of them crumbs of hope and release. It wasn’t a simple deal for Laima anymore. “Why?”

“So you came to this conclusion from what you read? That I killed my own? My own mother?” She pressed a hand to her chest, looking baffled by what Laima was suggesting.

Laima looked at her, really looked at her. She was an ambitious woman. She got what she wanted, like she got Laima. She knew Iselda had some lust, or maybe love, she wasn’t quite sure, for her. She got herself a soldier to rebuild her broken army forces. She got Elliott, a precious stone that could either destroy them all or make them heroes. She was a calculating woman. She already knew what she wanted and acted on it. Laima didn’t give a flying fuck about it before, but it had been five freaking months since she married Iselda, and five months of their private shenanigans every night. Laima wasn’t clear of everything either. She wasn’t a saint, nor as blue as the Sky. However, if they were binding their lives together, she needed to know everything. Killing your mother and then acting like she mattered most to you just to crown yourself Queen wasn’t on her list of acceptable things before she married.

Laima’s eyes watered, but she ignored it. She was more sentimental than before. “Answer me!” she shouted through gritted teeth.

“I did not!” Iselda shouted back. “It is treason to do such a thing, especially to my own mother. Come on, you are better than this, Laima.”

“No, I am not. You don’t know me. We don’t know each other.” She stepped closer to Iselda, causing Iselda to move away. “I connected the dots. You are a Queen. Your mother died without warning. You didn’t even shed a tear for her and accepted the crown for yourself. You banned the precious stones, conveniently, because now you have an excuse to do so. So you wouldn’t have to deal with people more powerful than you.” Laima stepped even closer, trapping Iselda between her body and the wall. “You said, and I quote, ‘I don’t like things I’m not qualified enough for. That’s what scares me.’” She looked deeply into Iselda’s eyes, trying to crack her mind, and got what she needed. “You told me that on our first night here. You were scared of those people just because they were more powerful than you. You never learned how to properly use your power, right?”

Laima waited for an answer, but all she got was Iselda’s eyes wide open, whether from surprise or something else entirely, she couldn’t tell.

“Wow. You are proud of yourself now.” Laima was unable to speak.

She chose her for this.
For figuring out her dirty little secrets.
She craved that action and mystery in her life.
Iselda wasn’t that cute and clumsy little Queen you fell in love with at first sight.
She was the mastermind behind the web of events that hauled Laima here, right now.

Iselda laughed softly, then suppressed her laughter with her fingers pressed to her lips.
“Okay. Now we are talking, Lady Laima.”