I go to sleep late tonight.
Wearily, I try to keep my stature up as I walk to my chamber. The guards salute at the door. I barely raise my hand in return.
The one day has felt like three. In my chamber I don't even bother to change. Instead I throw off my cloak and collapse backwards onto my bed. I'm even too lazy to remove my stalves from the sides of my legs.
Irritated, I run my hands through my hair.
"You'll come won't you? To my execution?"
I growl frustrated. I'll kill you myself if you want. Trying to manipulate me? Guilt me? I could do it myself-
And I'm sure I really could.
But the image from my nightmares comes back to my mind. First, my Mother, with her staff impaled in Aerrow's chest. Then, as me and Spaerrow. My stomach turns. Why does it bother me so much? People die. Sometimes you have to kill them. Sometimes they bring it on themselves.
I remember what Piper said, about the guilt and hate destroying my Mother. My Mother shouldn't have felt guilty - it was a war after all.
I rollover on my bed and sigh. I don't have the energy to be worried about it. My eye lids droop. Sleep takes everyone prisoner.
Air.
Suddenly I am awake and panicked. I sit up straight and grab my shirt, to claw at my chest.
Air. I need air.
But my lungs don't move properly. I wheeze, and then cough up blood. My body feels all wrong. Aching, dizzy, sick.
It's worse than my last attack.
Oh Lord, I've done it now. I should have listened to Renald and took a break. I should've let them monitor me.
I try to move. I feel pathetic, seeking help again.
My muscle are weak. As I slide of the bed, collapsing onto the stone, I grab onto it futilely to support myself. My breathing is heavy and my throat feels clogged.
How are you poisoning me, witch? How?
Clambering at the side of the bed I feel something odd beneath my fingers. Underneath the thinner fabrics, at the side of the mattress.
I checked the whole room for poisons, the food, the air.
I never checked inside the mattress.
I grab a fist full of the bed sheet lift it up.
There, along the side of the mattress, is a long jagged and poorly stitched tear.
Here.
No wonder I haven't been able to sleep.
Desperately I grab one of my stalves and with a shaking swipe tear into the fabric, reopening the scar. Then, without caution - I'm past that point - stick my left hand into mattress. A spring. Cotton filling. Then, a harder cold surface. My hand grips around it and I suddenly feel like throwing up. There's other similar objects around it. I yank it out and stare at it, half in horror, half in anger.
Not crystal radiation, but actually crystals.
Toxinia Crystals.
Guaranteed to make you sick, and after enough exposure, kill you.
I throw the stone into the mirror. It shatters and screams the way breaking glass does.
Still shaking I join my stalves to make a crutch, trying to walk towards the door.
"Guards," I call out. My voice is faint. I cough. "Guards!" Didn't they hear the glass?
I collapse half way.
No, not here. Not like this. I can't let her win.
My heart beats madly.
I'm going to die like this. I have no heir. Cyclonia will be torn to pieces. Damn. I hate being proved wrong. I should have listened to the Advisors and gone with Phalaropa - but all I can think of is that damn Skyknight girl!
Another, sudden and subtle realization comes over me. My chest feels odd. I reach up with one hand placing my hand over where my heart is. It's not beating madly anymore.
It's not beating at all.
Pure panic swells inside me. I bang my fist against my chest. Beat you stupid thing !Beat!
There's a wonky response. A thump. Then another. Pain shoots in my chest and I cry out.
I hear a hesitant knock at the door.
"Is everything alright in there Sire?"
I. Will. Not. Die.
"Guards," I rasp. "Your assistance, I -" another cough cuts me off, purple- red blood droplets falling onto the ground.
The door opens, letting in a small stream of light and two forms enter uncertainly. The younger one spots me first.
"Your highness!" he exclaims alarmed.
"Go get help," I growl staring at the floor, trying to lift myself.
"Yes sir- ack."
There's a sickening crack and the guard's body falls to the floor, followed by his staff clanging on the ground.
And it's now I realize that I'm as good as dead.
The light from the hall shrinks and disappears. The doors shut with a click and I hear the dead bolt locking.
His boots thud across the floor.
No.
I look up into the face of the other guard, straining keep conscious. What was his name?
He crouches by me, completely unconcerned. He lifts the red tinted goggles up onto his forehead. The dim light from the window makes his scar look jagged and horrible.
"Not looking too well there your lowliness." he starts, callously mocking. " Don't you like the crystals I got you?"
"Revrac." I hiss.
He mouth quirks. "Yup. Good name, if I say so myself." He says. "Kind of the reverse of what I am."
What? Figures it's not his real name. But the reverse? The name has no meaning that I can tell of. It takes a moment. I spell the name backwards.
"Carver."
A traitor's name. Only he is a traitor to Cyclonia.
"Suitable isn't it?" he remarks.
"Who put you up to this?" I wheeze. I try to decipher a way out this mess. I'm too weak to fight and no one knows anything has happened. Where is my Warp crystal?
He snorts. "I'm not working under orders if that's what your thinking," he says disdainfully.
"Then why?" I ask.
He grabs me by front of shirt, pulling me close to his face, so I can see the cold blue of his one eye.
"Justice," he whispers harshly. "Like I told you before, I made a promise a long time ago. Cyclonia has destroyed the world. And your Mother murdered my family. I'm going to right those wrongs."
He drops me to the ground again and I go to reach for my staff but he kicks it away. I need to get medical attention now. Sweat is poring off me. My lungs feel heavy. I need air, but if I breathe too hard I start to cough. If I can concentrate, I can levitate my stalf back to me.
He reaches for something behind his back and stands.
"I've waited a long time for this," he tells me. I try to focus. There's a weapon in his hand. I hear him load it. My vision clears again.
A crossbow.
They never did find his body.
"How?" I rasp. "How did you survive?"
He tilts his head.
"The rock," I explain.
"Sooo," he hums. "you know who I am."
Of course. I can match him to a photograph easily. After all, the images of their faces have been playing in my head for a week. I raise my head up, trying to keep whatever is left of my dignity.
"You're Finn, of the Storm Hawks. "
He eyes me contemptuously. I suppose I've stolen a bit of his thunder from him.
"You were supposed to be crushed by a rock."
"I'm surprised you know." he says. "But yeah, you're right. The night Cyclonis killed my family - A pillar of rock toppled onto me. I managed to blast a crater deep enough in it before it fell. I was pinned between it and the ground. For three days." he scowls. "I tried to blast my way out. I got hit by the rebounds. I reused bolts. By the time I got out, it was too late. Everyone I cared about was dead." he points the crossbow at me. "And now, everything I hate is going to die too. Starting with you."
"So this is your justice?" I say. It's really come to this. This is how I end? My heart stutters in my chest. I wonder if it'll give out again before he shoots me.
He doesn't give it the chance.
"This is my justice." He adjusts the crossbow one last time. My body is failing me. Black clouds over my sight at the edges of my vision. I can't fight the creeping dark.
The dark always wins.
I completely sink to the ground, my head hitting the stone and I can feel the blood I've coughed up on my face. I fight to keep my eyes open, but slowly they shut in defeat.
His cold voice is the last thing I hear.
"Long live Cyclonia."