A/N - I just wanted to say a quick thank you to the guest that left me a review for chapter 1 and make sure that they knew I saw it. I really appreciate both the praise and the criticism and I hope I've done better with adding more descriptions in the other chapters. Anyway, please enjoy chapter 7!
Melia's eyes widened in shock, feeling hot blood trickle down her throat. The masked woman leaned back and the empty eye holes took in their owner's handiwork. Surely, High Entia irises gloated from behind that leather screen, though she could not see them, could scarcely focus on anything at all. Pain consumed her. She clenched her teeth against it, preventing any further expression of agony. Then she focused, found a small well of strength deep within her. Just enough to free a hand and hook her fingers around the staff.
With a newfound sense of control making her heart pound, she closed her eyes. The ether pulsed through her veins with each beat, gained more power as it picked up the stray shreds of energy that occupied her blood. It gathered in the center of her chest, a massive orb prepared to burst and she breathed in almost reverently, feeling the ether swell in unison with her lungs. She exhaled.
Perhaps it was her breath that had strengthened or perhaps she had summoned wind without meaning to. Either way, her assailant was thrown backward, sent skidding across the tiled floor. Both women scrambled to their feet and faced each other. The assassin growled deep in her throat then lunged again, brandishing her daggers. Melia raised her staff, managed to catch both blades at once. She pushed hard against her attacker, just enough to put some space between the two.
Then she sensed something - perhaps just a breath or a feather light touch descending upon her. It was heat, a quiet tension hovering overhead that seemed to squeeze the room smaller and smaller. She felt claustrophobic, tried to keep her gaze from straying. There was nothing wrong. Her mind demanded that she focus entirely on her foe, who had dropped into an animalistic crouch as if preparing to pounce on what she considered to be prey. And, despite the increasing unease, she could distinctly imagine the feel of the assassin's blades as they dug into her skin. She shuddered, a scarcely perceptible movement, then raised her staff to launch an attack of her own.
"Melia! Look out!" She turned her head, seeking the source of the sudden vocal interruption. Is that... Shulk?
The tension dropped down on her, revealing to her its true form. A Telethia. She stumbled backward to safety as its claw grazed the skin of her neck. The assassin sprung on to the Princess, finding a window of opportunity in which she could accomplish her mission. Melia regained her balance by planting her staff into the ground then looked from the Telethia to the assassin, utterly disoriented and unable to find the proper defense tactic to use in the current situation. She froze in place, lips moving wordlessly, trying to summon something.
A body placed itself in front of her, perrying the masked woman's daggers with ease. Her gaze locked on to the blond locks of hair and she felt herself relax, her senses flood back to her. It was Shulk. He had come to save her - a thought that made her heart beat a little faster. Unbidden, a smile took over her mouth, as though everything were perfectly alright and they weren't embroiled in a terrible conflict.
She shook herself out of the trance, summoned ice. The patch of tiles beneath her attacker's feet froze over, causing the woman to slip. Shulk swung the Monado down on her, but she managed to roll out of the way just in time. The blade instead struck the ice upon which she had been sprawled, breaking it into tiny glittering fragments.
The High Entia Princess jumped forward, cracking her staff across the assassin's left wrist. Her efforts were rewarded with a soft hiss of pain and the clattering sound of one of the daggers hitting the floor.
"Nice one, Melia!" Shulk said, briefly turning to smile at her before refocusing on the battle.
She wished she could have done the same, but his expression of approval continued to distract her long after the grin had transformed into a grimace. Seeing the gentle curves of his lips tilt upward gave her butterflies. That fluttering sensation intensely manifesting in both her stomach and heart... She bit her lip hard in an attempt to force her thoughts back to the battle at hand, but they would not obey.
Instead, the more she tried to ignore it, the more vivid her imaginations became. Unusual visuals assaulted her mind's eye while unfamiliar sensations tingled throughout her body. She could almost see Shulk's face draw closer, could feel the gentle pressure of his lips as they moved over hers, capturing, asserting dominance. In her mind, they were safe, curled up together in her private chambers and free to do as they pleased. A blush crept into her cheeks at the thought of progressing to even more intimate activities with him.
A hand grabbed her arm, yanking her backward and Shulk's real face, not the imagined one, swam into view. "You okay?" he asked as he guided her away from both the assassin and the Telethia.
Melia felt the redness in her cheeks intensify with embarrassment. With some difficulty, she collected herself, pulled her arm from his grip even though all she wished to do right then was maintain physical contact. "Yes, of course. I am fine." Her voice was stiff, somehow managing to rein in all her wayward emotions, lock them in the deepest part of her being. Perhaps she would revisit them later, in private.
Shulk opened his mouth to answer, but the roar of the Telethia cut him off. Both sets of eyes turned to the beast, momentarily forgetting the assassin that slowly crept towards them. The Telethia screeched again and threw itself towards Melia. It was angry, wanted to end all the lives around it but hers especially. Though she was not frightened. Shulk would protect her.
It almost seemed strange to her that she could have such confidence in a man she barely knew. Surely, by this point in her life, she had been given enough reasons to trust only in herself. No one else was entirely guaranteed to have her best interests in mind. She was the only person who would ever be on guard for her safety at all times. Not even Catlaina was expected to be so vigilant. Somewhere deep within her, she wondered if suspicion poisoned her, if constantly living in fear of betrayal was unhealthy. But she shoved those thoughts aside. After all, they rather hindered her fighting abilities.
Her mind suddenly returned to her and she summoned fire, remembering that the flames lashed out in all directions. She created a blazing ring around her and Shulk then pushed it outwards. The Telethia howled in pain as its flesh burned, but the assassin had leapt back, easily avoiding the hungry flames.
She sent another wave of fire crashing after the masked High Entia woman. That time, she heard the agonized cry she had dared to hope for. Briefly, she entertained the idea that she managed to kill the assassin and so turned her attention on the Telethia. It seemed close to its final breaths, its movements erratic and clumps of its flesh missing. Dunban and Reyn attacked it relentlessly. Their respective weapons clashed against the monster's body, caused its metallic blue blood to spill and taint the once-pristine floor tiles.
Sharla and Riki hung back. The medic launched round after round of healing shots, but the Heropon seemed to be simply hiding from battle. Perhaps, when this was all over, he would insist that he had been protecting the healer and that he had been utterly instrumental in their victory. Melia fought back a smile, scolding herself for once again becoming distracted. But she found her focus surprisingly easily, just in time to see Reyn deliver the final blow.
He lunged forward, struck the Telethia in the direct center of its underbelly. Flesh ripped and a gush of indigo blood soaked him completely. The monster shrieked as it flew around the room in frantic lines, perhaps seeking relief from its agony. In its death throes, one of its appendages connected with the assassin's face and separated her from her mask. She had been just about to launch another attack on Melia, but the force of the monster's flailing sent her flying backwards, far from her target. With a startled shout, she raised her arm to hide her identity then scrambled to collect her mask from the ground.
"Telethia!" she screamed as she retreated towards her secret escape route. "Kill as many of them as you can!"
Then she disappeared. But the others were much too preoccupied with the threat of an exploding monster to pay her any heed. They noticed the Telethia's glow - a light that became more intense the closer it got to death - and Melia felt the distinct tremble of fear run through her. If ether burst out of the creature's body, she knew that they would all die. In such a confined space, the power of the aftershock would be awe-inspiring, certainly enough to rip their entire existences into insignificant shreds.
Alvis stepped forward, arm raised with the palm of his hand facing the expiring beast. A look of fierce concentration took over his eyes, turned them dark. The ether exploded out of the Telethia, but did not approach the group, did not even come close. Its green light illuminated his face and highlighted the tension in the silver haired boy's features as he held back the powerful essence. When the ether faded, Melia noticed him heave a sigh of relief, saw him swaying slightly. Perhaps the feat had almost been too much for him... She shuddered involuntarily and tried not to think about what would have occurred if he had been unable to hold back the ether.
For a long moment, no one spoke. Without a doubt, though, each of them were having their own silent celebrations, a time in which they came down from their combat highs and thanked Bionis for the chance to just keep living. Melia observed her each of her companions intently during these few seconds, took note of each miniscule detail.
Alvis was grey in the face, his eyes distant and sweat beading along his hairline. She wondered if that was the price to pay for such a grand display of containment. Exhaustion. All-consuming fatigue that wore him down to his very bones. Then he simply shook himself out of it, shedding any sign of strain.
She shifted her gaze to the main group. They all seemed alright, even beginning to talk about the recent events. As she had predicted, Riki attempted to take all the credit for the victory. Reyn, however, was too busy with cleaning off the Telethia blood to retort and everyone else smiled wanly, grateful that they did not have to listen to the pointless arguing just yet. Perhaps it would be coming soon, but for now, they were glad to experience this fragile peace.
"Melia, you're hurt..." It was Dunban's voice that broke into her thoughts and forced her to focus on him. Her eyes fell upon the chestplate of his armor which had been nearly completely gouged out by the Telethia's claws.
"And you are in need of new armor," she replied dryly. Though she would never have the audacity to admit it, she had yet to forgive him for agreeing to the arranged marriage. Surely, he could have put an end to that dreadful business. Why had he not fought against her father's demands? Of course, she knew it was wrong of her to treat him poorly, especially since the arrangement was a High Entia tradition and she had already given him the impression that she approved.
He allowed himself a slight smile, most definitely mistaking her distant tone for humor of some kind and she was not of a mind to correct him. Right then, she wished to just relax, forget about nearly losing her life. At least for a little while.
After some passive aggressive arguing between the two, she finally consented to having her neck wound treated by Sharla. Fortunately, the injury was not as severe as it had originally appeared and she was back on her feet in a matter of minutes. Her hand ghosted up to the bandages, testing their strength. It took only a few touches before she realized something was wrong. Dread pooled in her stomach like buckets of icy water and her heart seemed to stop beating.
"Sharla?" She kept her tone even as she requested her friend's assistance, desperate to mask the fact that her most recent discovery had sent her into a panic. "Did you perhaps remove my locket when you tended to my wound?"
The healer shook her head, dark locks bouncing. "No, I didn't even see a necklace."
That sense of dread worsened, but she maintained every bit of emotional control. She tried to convince herself that the situation was not so terrible, that it was just a piece of jewelry. But Kallian had given it to her and she could feel guilt mingling with the anxiety from before, giving her a bit of a headache. And yet, she had become so good at hiding her feelings that she doubted anyone could see through to her turmoil.
"Ooh, Riki find shiny shiny!" Melia felt her heart leap at the words she overheard from across the room, a new hope surging through her veins. "Riki get fixer Nopon then give shiny shiny to Oka as gift!"
The High Entia girl rushed over to the Heropon and she heaved a sigh of relief when she identified the necklace in his hand. She snatched it up from him before she could stop herself then examined it. The chain was broken - must have been cut when the Telethia attacked her - and the hinges were bent, causing the locket to hang open awkwardly. She pressed the gift against her chest, over her heart, feeling tears well up in her eyes.
She had known this was going to happen. The accessory had been in her possession for scarcely three hours, yet it was already broken. Why had she allowed herself to wear it? But the answer was already in her mind: Because Kallian had told her to. He said it would allow him to take on the Tomb Trial with her, that it was a symbol of his brotherly support. Did breaking it mean she had lost that blessing?
"I apologize, Riki," Melia said, voice slightly wavering, "but this is my locket. Kallian presented it to me this morning, before my departure."
"That okay, Melly," he replied as he bounced up and down like an eager child. "Riki understand." He paused, looked about the room, then broke into a massive smile. "Melly just have to promise to help Riki get new gift for Oka."
"I promise..." Something about her words sounded hollow to her ears. And she felt an unintentional flush of anger raise the temperature of her body. She knew she was not mad at Riki, but she could not prevent herself from placing a small amount of blame on him. After all, was it not his fault that she felt a sudden emotional disconnect with her brother? No. It was not. It was her fault. She hung her head in shame.
"Lighten up, Melia," Reyn said from a few feet away. He stood beside Shulk and she instantly found her focus shifting to the blond Homs, which somewhat dampened the enraging effect of Reyn's words. "It's just a necklace."
Maybe a piece of her soul broke when he said that. She felt sharp pain in her heart, sensed that the dam that held back her feelings cracked, letting the emotions leak through. A single tear rolled down her cheek, but she quickly wiped it away when she noticed Shulk was watching her. He stepped closer and studied her, kindness warming his expression.
"Can I see it?" he asked, not yet daring to hold out his hand. Perhaps he felt that he did not have the right to reach out, demand her cooperation.
"Yes." With some difficulty, she pulled the locket away from her chest and allowed him to take it from its place on her palm.
His blue eyes looked it over a few times then he fiddled with the hinges, gently caressing them with his index finger as if to assess the damage. After a few seconds of this, he looked up at her, fully meeting her gaze, and smiled faintly. "This isn't so bad. I can fix it for you, if you'll let me hold on to it for a few days."
She did not know immediately what to say, just nodded a few times. Quick, eager bobs of her head. A warmth flooded through her body, much different from the heat of anger that she had felt earlier. It was unfamiliar to her, however, and found herself contemplating what it could be. Is this affection? she wondered, searching through her mental library of emotions. Perhaps. But then she remembered her current situation. If he finished the necklace in a few days, it would most likely be a wedding gift...
"Thank you, Shulk," she said simply then turned to the others. "Let us return to Alcamoth. Staying here any longer will surely do us no good."
Although she was loath to admit it, Melia was well aware that she did not wish to see Kallian immediately upon her return. Shame still ghosted along her nerves, demanding to know how she would face him after she had so carelessly ruined the precious gift. So she simply decided to avoid him until she could forgive herself.
She entered the throne room, Catlaina on her heels, and knelt before her father. His usually warm tones seemed harsh as they commanded her to rise. A chill jolted down her spine, made her knees weak as she regained her standing position. Lightly, she bit down on her lip then scanned the perimeter of the Audience Chamber. She noticed extra guards in each of the corners, but more than that, she noticed the empty space to the right of the Emperor. Her mind dully wondered where her brother was, if not in his rightful place beside their father, though she knew she could not dwell on his absence.
Without waiting for permission, she launched into her retelling of what had transpired in the High Entia Tomb. She kept it brief, unwilling to share every miniscule detail. Besides, if her father refrained from asking, she felt no obligation to answer. And he did not question her story, did not wonder at the bloody bandages wrapped around her neck. Truthfully, he seemed preoccupied. There must have been something bothering him.
"Has there been some new misfortune while I was away?" she asked, thinking that she was taking a rather significant risk. When her father's moods turned dark, he was unpredictable. Like a thunderstorm - his words the booming thunder and his violence a bolt of lighting. It was impossible to predict where he would strike.
He sighed softly, a sad twinkle in his eye. Perhaps it was a tear, but he banished it before she could look to closely. "I am uncertain of the best way to share this terrible news with you, my dear." A soft sigh escaped his lips, dismal, a lonely sound like a Volff separated from its pack. "It... concerns Kallian."
She felt her blood turn to ice, but she kept all emotion out of her voice as she asked, "Is he dead?"
"He tried to be, though he is not," the Emperor replied solemnly.
"Where is he now?"
Harsh sunlight shone through the curtain, casting strangely colored shadows upon the floor of the healer's workplace. Early morning had long since been taken over by the afternoon hours and the hot air felt thick with sorrow and sickness. The room itself was too small for the five people that occupied it - scarcely 8 feet wide and 10 feet long - though the privacy of it was a luxury that other patients could not afford.
Yumea sat at her son's bedside in a padded chair that she had made her personal guard carry. The man stood outside the door now, questioning any person who got too close to the Prince's designated space. Then there were Kallian's personal guards, three of them in total that would surely be increasing in number after this incident. But they had blind eyes and deaf ears when they were ordered to, so the First Consort was not concerned that her display of tenderness would be gossiped about.
She ran her fingers through her unconscious son's hair, murmuring gentle reassurances. The healer promised that he would be alright. His wrists would be permanently scarred, of course, but there was no other damage. Yet she could not quite trust that assessment. In terms of physical health, perhaps that woman had told the truth. But Kallian's illness was certainly not one that could be detected by the eye, even if said eye belonged to a trained medic.
He had attempted to end his life twice now. Her baby... She felt her free hand wiping away those unruly tears, but she did not control such action. It happened automatically. That was how she had been raised. Maintain perfection, austerity. Do not crack. Do not break.
Yet she felt that those teachings did her little good, considering the current situation. The child she had brought forth into the world no longer wished to live. She thought she had every right to fall apart, cry hysterically until she was comforted by her loving husband. A small part of her desired very much to just crumble and reveal her darkest, fiercest emotions. But the rest of her knew she could not be so weak. Not even on her own. For, if she fell apart, there would be no one to piece her back together. Yes, Sorean loved her - and she loved him - but he could never understand.
With a weary sigh, she rose from her seat, still caressing Kallian's hair. Then her fingers moved to his wings, delicately tracing the outline of each feather. She stopped abruptly as a sudden sense of unease took her senses. Her mind kicked in to high alert and all she could think of was fleeing the scene. Something was coming.
Her eyes fell upon Kallian's serene face and she knew she could not leave him when there was potential danger. Leaning down, she pressed a loving kiss against his forehead. His skin felt feverish on her icy lips, but she had no time to contemplate the implications of such an observation. As she regained her proper posture, the door burst open.
"Yumea Antiqua, you are under arrest for conspiracy to murder Crown Princess Melia Antiqua," an unfamiliar High Entia man said, voice strong, commanding. "Come peacefully or else I shall have no choice but to use force."
"I did no such thing," she replied, curling her fingers around her son's hand for support. "Upon whose authority do you act? This is unacceptable. You shall not treat me as some common criminal."
The man took hold over her shoulders roughly in a grip hard enough to leave dark purple bruises on her skin. She struggled against him, though was unable to free herself. He shoved her towards the wall, pressed her face into the light-colored metal, and jerked her hands behind her back. A small whimper of pain escaped her as her arms were wrenched around. She felt heavy restraints tighten around her wrists, securing her in that utterly defenseless position. Slowly, the man turned her so that she was facing him then grasped her arm.
"How dare you do this to me," she hissed as he dragged her out of the room.
"I will do with you whatever I please, Your Highness." His voice was pure venom, causing dreadful shivers to run through Yumea's body. For the first time that day, she worried not for her son, but for herself.
