Hours later, as the sun crossed through the sky towards the horizon, leaving streaks of orange and purple in its wake, the High Entia gathered in the main courtyard, eyes directed upward towards the sky terrace. There, Melia stood, dressed in the formal robes of the Empress, bright lights looming overhead to illuminate her figure so those below could see as the sky slowly darkened. Underneath the white silk robe that covered her arms and back, the Empress wore a dress of pastel pinks and blues, its collar drawn all the way up to her neck. The robes were lightweight, and the breeze chilled her skin, inciting goosebumps across the length of her arms and all the way to the back of her neck.
But her mind was elsewhere, thinking about the moments ahead. The Empress was about to address her people, only hours after the incident with Camar.
In her right hand, she held the Scepter. Melia looked down at the artifact, feeling its weight in her grip. She felt the buzz of energy pass between the length of its rod and the palm of her hand. The orb at the top glowed a light blue, as if recognizing her. The Scepter was more than a simple object passed down generation to generation in the royal family. She understood that now. It was a representation of power; a physical representation of her right to the throne.
It scared her.
Did she truly have the strength to be an Empress? To endure such fear and hatred and muster the stamina to resume her responsibilities? With everything that had occurred in the last eight hours, she had no idea how her public would receive her. Would they even listen? Or turn away, remembering her choice? And if they believed she truly had turned her back on the High Entia, they would call for her removal from the throne.
And in the darkest corners of her mind, a voice asked if she cared anymore.
Memories of her father and brother came to her unbidden. Her father's pride in naming her his heir. Her brother's unwavering support that she take the mantle. They had had such hopes for her reign. But here she was, struggling.
On the other hand, if she were to vacate the throne, there was no telling what would happen. Certainly, there were provisions in the event a leader was impeached. But none of these had ever been tested. And considering the current state of affairs, Melia worried that her removal would only result in the society's collapse and chaos.
Ultimately, she didn't really have a choice. She was the Empress, and could not shy away from her responsibilities, no matter how she felt. She needed to regain the trust of her people and restore their lives.
Clearing her throat, Melia stepped forward, casting her eyes downward at the waiting faces.
"Good evening." She projected, her voice amplified by the microphone in front of her. "I have gathered you all here in light of today's events." Melia stopped, paralyzed. Fear clouded her mind, whispering that her words would fall on deaf ears. But she pressed on. "I know many of you may doubt my commitment to the restoration of our civilization and the future of the High Entia, but that is simply not true. As I did many months ago, and I do today, I pledge myself to you."
Now came the hard part. She took a breath and continued, "But I will not condone violence of any kind. I will not condone discrimination based on race nor sex. I will continue to lead as my father did and his father before him, accepting of all peoples and cultures and cast out those who do not."
Melia held the Scepter high above her head. It sparkled in the light; a beacon of hope.
Hope. That's what she needed.
"Until you request my removal from the throne, I will be your Empress. I will guard you from those who would seek to hurt us. From those who wish to pollute our existence and taint our legacy. And I will restore the glory of our civilization."
The Scepter lit up, a ray of ether shooting out the top of it. Green light pulsed over her arm and down her body. Melia felt the familiar surge of ether as it coursed through her veins. Her body reacted, tapping into the rush of energy that rippled through her body, pulsing from the Scepter's rod. It electrified her; warmed the very bottom of her soul. She closed her eyes, absorbing the force as it soaked into every atom of her body.
Scattered cheers were heard from below in the square and she brought her arm down, still feeling the vibrations of ether passing between the rod and her body. A smile widened on her face; there were still a few supporters out there. Then the Empress turned and walked towards the Great Hall, gripping the Scepter tightly and taking comfort in its resonance with her body. She could see her cabinet members as well as Dunban, Fiora and Shulk awaiting her by the door.
Then she stumbled.
A sharpness shocked her body. Warmth turned to cold; comfort turned to chaffing. The flood of ether felt like sandpaper, scratching her insides raw. Everything hurt. Her blood boiled and her muscles spasmed as the currents of ether bore into the tissue. Melia could feel herself fall to her knees, but the impact of the cement on her kneecaps was minuscule in comparison to the pain that enflamed her body. There was tearing all through her; cells shrieking as if the very building blocks of her body were being severed. She opened her mouth to scream, but the sound was ripped from her throat.
It was excrutiating, overwhelming. Melia could feel herself pushed towards the edge. How long would it last?
As if hearing her cries, fatigue overcame all her senses, and the blackness closed in.
When she awoke, Melia felt a wave of nausea flow through her. Gagging, she jerked to her left, vomiting the contents of her stomach. Acid stung the walls of her throat and her eyes watered as her body heaved over and over again. The sickness rolled over her in waves, uprooting and expelling the stress and horror that had taken root in her body during the past day. Finally, the nausea slipped away leaving her hollow. Thankfully, there had been a bucket positioned next to the bed, she noted through groggy vision. Despite the condition she was in, Melia would have been mightily embarrassed had she vomited straight on the floor. The Empress rolled onto her back, inhaling and exhaling, feeling any remaining strength ebb away. Her eyes glossed over her surroundings. Once more, she found herself in the clinic, a privacy curtain separating her corner from the rest of the floor.
Melia thumped her head back on her pillow and growled. How long had she been there?
The screen rustled and a High Entia woman stepped inside, dragging the cloth behind her. When she turned to face Melia, the woman smiled. "Empress. You're awake." Her eyes were a bright green, and her blonde hair was cut short, rounding out her face.
"Could I please have some water?"
"Of course. How are you feeling?" The woman moved to the pitcher on the end table and poured her a glass.
Melia smiled and nodded in thanks as she took the outstretched cup. "I am sure I will recover quickly."
"That is not what I asked, your Majesty."
"Just a bit of sickness, that is all." She took a sip of water, feeling the cool liquid trickle down her throat. It was a balm to the recent rawness created by the bile. "Would you please tell me what happened?" Her memory was fuzzy, and she strained to remember what exactly had occurred.
Honestly, the Empress was tired of ending up in the clinic. Embarrassed too. Was she so fragile that she was unable to function normally?
The healer looked at Melia skeptically, but did not pursue the matter further. Instead, the woman walked to Melia's side, beginning a routine of checking the High Entia's vitals. "In short, you fainted. Have you had fainting spells recently?"
Melia pursed her lips. "I wouldn't classify it as fainting per say."
The healer cocked an eyebrow as she placed two fingers on Melia's wrist, counting her pulse. "Please elaborate, Empress. I cannot diagnose you properly without all the necessary information."
Melia twitched her nose, unsure of how to explain. "We as High Entia utilize ether often, like it is second nature to us. I...I have forgone the use of ether for a few months."
"What is 'a few months'?"
She hesitated. It was unheard of for a High Entia to not be using ether on a regular basis. Probably more of a shock if a member of the Royal family was not using at all. "Between eight and nine."
The healer didn't bat an eye. "And you suffer from fatigue when you do call upon ether spells?"
Melia nodded. There was no use in denying the truth.
"Ever nausea?"
"Occasionally. I experienced such feelings when I was exhausted already from drawing upon ether."
"You're straining yourself. Your body isn't used to it." The healer said as she shined a light in Melia's eyes. "But it's nothing to worry about. It is just a side effect of training your body to use ether once more. As you begin to use ether on a regular basis again, the fatigue will lessen." She stood and jotted a few notes down on a clipboard. "Though I advise caution when casting ether spells. Don't use too many, nor use them for longer than necessary. I'd say you received quite a jolt from the Scepter when you used it."
Used it? That's not what she had done. But she kept her face blank. When she had a moment of privacy, she would need to examine the Scepter.
"What is your name?"
"Bella, your Majesty."
"I trust we can keep this between us."
"Of course, Empress."
"Bella, thank you for attending to me."
"It is my honor. Empress, when you're feeling up to it, you may leave. Please come back and see me should your condition change at any time." Bella bowed and began to leave, but stopped short and turned back to face Melia. Hesitantly, the High Entia said, "What Camar did...that was wrong, your Majesty. You have done so much for the High Entia. I know you value your people. I believe in you." And with another small bow, she turned and disappeared behind the curtain.
A small smile appeared on the High Entia's face, and she folded her hands together. Perhaps there was some hope.
"Is she awake?" Melia heard a voice ask.
"Yes. You can go in and see her." Bella said.
The curtain slid to the side and Fiora poked her head in. "Melia!" She squealed and rushed inside. Fiora sat down next to the High Entia and took her hand. "How do you feel?"
"I'm fine. Just a little tired."
"Are you sure? Can I get you anything?"
"I'm alright, I promise." Melia squeezed her friend's hand.
"You scared me. Well, you scared everyone. Definitely Dunban."
The mention of the man sent a ripple of heat through Melia's body. Immediately, her mind recalled the kiss in the courtyard. She hadn't been able to wait any longer. The need to kiss him was overpowering, and so she had initiated. And he had accepted, closing his arm around her. Need blossomed all over her body upon remembering the tinglings of pleasure from the kisses. The memory sent shivers down her spine. She wondered when their next kiss would be.
"Where is he?"
"I told him to go take a walk and cool his head." Fiora rolled her eyes. "He wouldn't listen, so I had Shulk drag him away."
"I'm surprised that worked."
"Shulk can be forceful when he needs to be." Melia caught the mischievous glint in Fiora's eyes. "Or when he's properly motivated."
The Empress giggled then quickly sobered.
"Is he alright? Dunban, I mean."
"Of course, silly! He's just all worked up 'cause he just got you back from Camar, and now you're dropping like a stone."
Melia grimaced at the comparison. She didn't want to cause him to worry anymore than necessary. They had just been through a huge ordeal and she wished for things to be calm.
"Just worry about getting better, Melia. That's what we all want. What did the doctor say?"
"She believes it's overextension of ether usage. I am in agreement with her."
"Really? But don't you use ether a lot?"
Melia shook her head. Swallowing, she said, "No. I stopped using ether shortly after the Fall."
"But...why?"
Melia turned her head away, lost in memories she had attempted to push to the back of her mind. Kallian's face flashed in her head, as well as his transformed form into a Telethia.
"It's because of Kallian, isn't it?" Fiora whispered.
Melia didn't respond at first. She felt hollow thinking about it, as if the events that had occurred happened a lifetime ago no longer affected her. And yet they did, and still weighed heavy on her mind. Her mind thought of the First Consort as well. How Melia had taken the burden from Tyrea and ended her stepmother's life. A wash of grief flooded through her, but Melia kept her face blank.
Understanding dawned on Fiora and she clutched her friend's hand. "Melia, it wasn't your fault. You couldn't have done anything to save him."
"And yet, I was the one who condemned them to death. I am responsible for the deaths of my family."
"That's not true, and I wish you would believe it."
But the Empress didn't respond. She could not shy away from the truth. She did not deserve to use her innate abilities.
"Well, when are you getting out of here?" Fiora asked, tactfully switching subjects.
"I can leave as soon as I wish."
"Why don't you get dressed, and we can go get something to eat. I'm betting you haven't eaten anything today either, right?"
Melia's stomach grumbled in response. She smiled sheepishly.
"It would seem not."
"Perfect! We can stuff our faces. I feel like after today, we deserve it." Fiora grinned.
"But Fiora, are you alright? Your back?"
"Oh yeah. They had three or four healers on me, so all the wounds are closed now and they stopped bleeding." Fiora turned her back to Melia and lifted up her shirt, revealing bandages wrapped around her torso. "It's fine. But I can't do any strenuous activity for a while."
She turned around and shrugged. "It is what it is. I'm just glad to be alive."
Melia nodded, a sober expression on her face.
"Anyway, get dressed. I'm hungry!"
Fiora sauntered out of Melia's private area to give her privacy to dress, leaving the Empress in wonder at her friend's optimism. If only she could hang onto some of it.
After she left Fiora, Melia headed for the Villa, dragging her heels with unease. This was the part she was dreading. A few turns of the corner and a walk down the hall led her to her , Melia wrapped her knuckles against the silver door, feeling her heart's beat hasten as the sounds of footsteps grew louder on the other side. The door opened to reveal a beautiful pale face, marred by the dark circles under her eyes and a purple bruise on her cheek. Nae'ell's eyes narrowed, turning to steel upon recognizing Melia.
"What do you require, Empress?"
"I...I was hoping to speak with you, if you have a moment."
"Whatever the Empress wants." Nae'ell pulled the door open, and Melia stepped inside. James and Elrich resumed posts on either side of the door as it closed, affording the privacy that Melia needed for this conversation.
"Thank you."
Nae'ell walked over to the tea station and poured herself a cup. The woman did not offer one to Melia, and the Empress bit her lip. Turning, Nae'ell settled her eyes on the younger woman, her gaze piercing. Melia felt a lump grow in her throat, but she maintained a careful expression of solemnity.
"To what do I owe this pleasure?"
"I wanted to discuss with you what transpired yesterday. When Camar...when I made a choice between yourself and Fiora."
Nae'ell sipped her tea, silent.
The phrases breezed through Melia's mind, failing to crystalize into words on her tongue. She didn't know what to say. Words seemed useless, inadequate to express her sorrow and remorse. But she couldn't remain silent.
"I wanted to offer an apology, Nae'ell. You have been both dear friend and knowledgable advisor to me. I do not expect your forgiveness. But I did want to express how sorry I am for what was done."
"You mean for what you did. For your choice to save the Homs and abandon me."
Melia felt the pit of her stomach drop and her face warm.
"But you don't regret that decision, do you?"
Melia's lips creased into a line. That was not something she wanted to consider. "I don't know."
"Be real with me, Melia. The least you could do is that."
"I am, Nae'ell. It was not a choice I easily made."
"But something told you to pick a Homs woman instead of an Entian sister." Nae'ell walked over to her sofa and ran a hand along the arm rest. "Just tell me the truth, Melia. No one is here to watch you be politically correct."
The words were said with bitterness. Melia felt herself grow rigid, realizing the depth of Nae'ell's anger.
"What do you mean by that?"
"You can stop the act."
"I know not what you are implying." Melia narrowed her gaze.
"You don't hold the lives of Homs and High Entia equally. You favor your Homs brothers and sisters over your High Entian ones. Now that your brother and father are gone, you can be free to embrace your Homs nature." Nae'ell mocked setting her empty tea cup down on the cart.
"I do no such thing."
"Really? Kallian told me numerous times that you struggled to reconcile both parts of yourself."
A cold dread crept over her. Those had been secrets, things she'd only confided to her brother. Things that could never have been said in front of her father, for fear of his wrath and shame. How much had Kallian told Nae'ell? How much did this woman know about the depths of her confusion, being pulled in two directions, never truly being accepted by either side? These insecurities had haunted her for most of her childhood and adolescence; and hovered in the back of her mind, even now. Her heart thumped in her chest and her stomach churned.
"Did he truly say that to you?"
"Yes." Nae'ell mused, her voice filled with venom as she ran her nails over the leather of the sofa. "He told me all about your identity crises. How you missed your mother and wanted to find her family. How you felt you were never good enough in your father's eyes. How you felt Alcamoth was a prison. I know it all."
"You do not know anything." Melia whispered, her lip trembling.
"I do know that Kallian would put his people first, above all others. Unlike you."
"He would not want to condemn any lives to death." Melia shot back, her hands clenched into fists at her side. "He would not kill innocents in pursuit of vengeance."
"Unless they threatened the High Entia." Nae'ell advanced on Melia, like a cat stalking its prey. "Who was the leader of the army against the Mechon? Kallian!" She locked eyes with Melia; the Empress could see a rage with no end. "And who made sure the people were well taken care of while you were prancing around the world with your Monado boy? Kallian!"
"He knew what I was doing! He knew it was for the good of our people."
"So? You chose the Homs over your own people! From the beginning, you were reneging on your duties as heir to the throne." Nae'ell hissed. "Did you have any respect for your father? The man who died because of your Monado boy? No! Instead, you ignored his wishes!"
"Father died protecting the High Entia from the Mechon, not because of Shulk!"
"And instead of honoring his sacrifice, you left!" Nae'ell exclaimed, stopping just in front of Melia.
"I was protecting our people as he asked! I was bringing justice for his death and putting an end to Zanza's cruelty!"
"You will always be more of a Homs than an Entia. Isn't that the truth? That if you cared more for your Entian brothers and sisters, you would've stayed in the city to lead the attack against the Mechon! And maybe Kallian wouldn't have died. He wouldn't have died so you could go play hero! He wouldn't have died because of your selfishness!"
The words cut like knives.
"So, tell me Melia. Do you regret your choice? DO YOU?" Nae'ell screamed straight into Melia's face.
"NO!"
Silence.
It was deafening, as the confession hung in the air between the High Entian women.
It shocked Melia. The words had come out of her mouth uncensored, unthinking. It was as if the truth had always been there, in the back of her mind, but she had not acknowledged it. Did not wish to recognize its validity. It was frightening, and she didn't know what it meant. Why she felt the way she did. And her cheeks burned in shame because of it.
The Empress cleared her throat and said as calmly as she could, "No Nae'ell, I do not."
Silence.
Nae'ell ran her fingers along Melia's jawline, disgust in her eyes.
"Now I truly understand why the First Consort wanted Kallian to be Sorean's heir. She saw right through you. Pity she was unsuccessful in killing you."
The older woman released Melia's face and turned away.
"Get out."
Melia didn't need to be told twice. She retreated from the suite, stifling a sob in her chest as she exited. Vision blurred, she didn't wait to see if James and Elrich followed her. All she could do was try to breathe as she tried to run from the truth.
Her feet carried her through the hallways of the Villa, having a mind of their own. Blinking through tears, the High Entia headed towards her old suite, eager to get away from watchful eyes of any kind. She wanted isolation, needed it in order to purge the emotion from her system, gather her wits, and resume her duties. Though she couldn't even contemplate getting back to work at the moment. As she stepped over the threshold into the sitting room, Melia hurried to the bedroom to the right, ignoring the mess that had remained untouched from the night of the break-in.
Upon entering the dark room, Melia slammed the door behind her, shutting out the world. Exhausted, the woman turned her back and leaned against it, sobs escaping her throat and clogging the air around her.
He wouldn't have died because of your selfishness!
Nae'ell's words rang loudly in her ears, filling the silence in her mind. The Empress bowed her head and covered her face with her hands in the dark. Was it true? Had her need to prove to herself she was a capable warrior, able to stand on her own, resulted in her brother's death? Would Kallian still be alive had she taken to the throne like her father had wished and led the charge against the Mechon?
Now I understand why the First Consort wanted Kallian as heir. Pity she was unsuccessful in killing you.
The words were damning, slashing away at her integrity. Her crying was uncontrollable, hidden in the darkness. Her palms were wet, tears pouring through the spaces between her fingers and down to her wrists. Camar had been right: she was a traitor to her own race.
Gods, what had she done? Had she tainted her family's legacy?
Melia's back slid down the length of the door, and she slumped to the floor, a ball of self-defeat. It was clear to her. She did not deserve the throne. Not after the past day. Not after her decision to leave Alcamoth with Shulk and the others.
And where did that leave her?
Eventually the sobs subsided, though the cloying unworthiness made no move to leave her be.
"Melia?" A quiet voice asked from behind the door.
She jumped. Frantic, she sat up straight against the door, her back stiffening and shoulders tensing. It was Dunban.
How long had he been there, listening behind the door?
"Yes?" Melia answered in a small voice.
"Are you alright?"
Dammit.
Again, she showed her fragility. Her weakness. It was reprehensible. Completely unseemly for a monarch to do. And it was not how she wanted to be seen. Especially by him.
The woman swallowed the lump in her throat, mustering a calm tone. "Yes. I'll be fine. No need to worry at all."
"James and Elrich said you had gone to see Nae'ell."
Melia didn't respond, tears threatening to overcome her once more, and she did her best to will them away.
"If you'd rather be alone, Melia, I can leave. But, if you'd let me in, I am happy to offer any support you wish."
The Empress clenched her fists. She felt childish, hiding behind the door. Of course she wanted to let him in, if only to just sit in silence with him and eliminate the loneliness she felt. But she was ashamed.
"Melia."
Her blood rose and fell, her body warming to the sounds in his voice. She loved it when he said her name, as if it were something he cherished. How could she say no to him?
Slowly, the woman rose to her feet and brushed herself off. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she opened the door.
His brown eyes, warm with concern, met hers. The light from the outer room illuminated his form in the doorway.
Gods he was handsome.
"Please." Melia gestured for him to step inside. She closed the door behind him, nodding to James and Elrich, who stood just a few paces away. Even in front of them, the two men who were the most present in her everyday life, did she avoid displaying weakness when she could.
She didn't say anything, waiting for him to speak as she crossed around him and turned on the lights in the bedroom. It would do no good to keep the room in darkness.
"I take it your visit was...less than pleasant."
"Very much so." She busied herself with picking up objects that had been tossed about during the attempted robbery and putting them back into their proper places.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"I don't think that's necessary."
Dunban nodded. "Then, what would make you feel better?"
His perceptive move of changing subjects pleased her. He knew when and when to not press for information. Silently, Melia opened the curtain and looked at the stars in the night sky, considering. Then an image popped up in her mind and she smiled, shaking her head.
"What is it?"
"Truthfully?"
"Yes. Name it."
Hesitantly, the woman murmured, "I wouldn't mind having some of those famous pancakes."
The man laughed softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and bowed. "Your wish is my command."
Together, they made their way to the opposite side of the suite, towards the kitchen. As they crossed through the rooms, Dunban asked, "The healer released you rather soon from the clinic. Are you alright?"
"I'm fine. Just a bit of sickness. She said it was ether overexposure."
A question appeared in his eyes, but did not broach his lips. Instead, he said, "I apologize for not being there when you woke in the clinic."
"Do not worry. Fiora told me that Shulk had taken you away." Melia paused, forlorn. "I am sorry for worrying you, yet again."
"There is no need to apologize, Melia."
But the Empress shook her head. "No. I am causing you unnecessary emotional turmoil."
"I think it comes with the territory of being Empress. Everything you do has consequences. And those consequences directly affect you, and those who care about you worry. Regardless of the situation."
Wise words. But they didn't assuage her feelings of guilt.
"Nonetheless, even if that is true, I am imposing too much on others."
"You are not a burden, Melia."
"I must politely disagree. I do not like to be viewed as weak and in constant need of help."
He laid his hand on her cheek and gently stroked her skin with his fingertips. Her heart fluttered at his touch. "If you were weak, you would've given up by now and left all of this behind. And yet, you keep getting up after falling." He smiled. "Literally."
The Empress couldn't help but smile.
"Perhaps."
"Besides, I would rather spend my time worrying about you than never knowing you." Dunban murmured.
Melia felt her breath hitch in her throat and her heart skip a beat.
He leaned towards her face and kissed her, softly. Closing her eyes, Melia greeted his lips with gratitude. The kiss was slow, and she savored each time he closed his lips over hers. It was only their second kiss, but already she was becoming accustomed to the shape and feel of his lips. How the fit against hers. After a moment, they parted, both with a slight blush to their cheeks.
Dunban cleared his throat and turned towards the cupboards. "Now, those pancakes."
They spent the rest of the evening pleasantly exchanging stories, very much like their first breakfast together. She wondered if this would become a tradition for them. The thought made her glow; it was one that promised a future. But, the woman chastised herself immediately; she couldn't get her hopes up, especially when everything was brand new.
Much of their conversation was filled with stories from childhood and adolescence. Melia found herself giggling more than once at a few of Dunban's accounts, almost entirely distracted from the previous sadness that had permeated her body. Not once did the man broach the subject of her conversation with Nae'ell, respecting her need for privacy. For that, she was thankful. The encounter had left her wounded internally, and the injuries were still too fresh to tend to.
A few hours passed, and the clock struck midnight, reminding the two that the next day was soon upon them. Apologetically, Dunban said that it was probably time for him to leave, and she consented, though the truth was, she wouldn't have minded he stay the night. But she knew that was highly inappropriate. So the Empress walked him to the door, wishing the evening weren't coming to an end.
"Goodnight Dunban." She said, trying to keep a straight face, hiding a smile.
"Goodnight Melia." He responded, amused. "Till tomorrow."
They stood there for a second in companionable silence, gazing at each other. Then the man drew her towards him and kissed her. She felt herself melt in his arms as he captured her lips in his, a slight pressure pushing into her and she willingly surrendered.
But it was over all too soon. Dunban pulled away and with a small bow, exited the suite.
The woman watched him walk away, her body alight from the kiss. She touched her lips where he'd left his imprint, burning the touch in her memory.
Tomorrow would not come soon enough.