It started again with running through a maze. Only this time, she wasn't fleeing, she was pursing. Urgency spurred her on as her footsteps clattered down the stone path, the impact vibrating through her feet up to her knees. She had to get to her, had to stop her before she disappeared. Melia raced down the aisle inside the garden maze, turning left and right, whichever way the path bent. It was not important which way, as long as the Empress could still here the sounds of feet stomping the ground.
In the distance, Melia heard the sounds of laughter. The voice had no gender to it, but was full of scorn. Mocking her from the place it held just feet in front of her. As the Empress whisked around another corner, the woman saw the slight tail of a robe, diving behind the next corner up ahead, escaping her view. Sucking in her breath, Melia ran on, hungry to see who it was. Again, she made it halfway down the path as she saw the tail of a coat turn around the next corner and out of sight. There was no falter in her step: the Empress was committed. She pressed forward, but the phantom continued to escape her at every chance, every opportunity. The laughter grew louder with each slippage, ringing in her ears, and Melia felt her cheeks burn with desperation. Finally, the woman turned once more to find herself face to face with the exit. The end of the maze.
Cautiously, the High Entia stepped forward, walking onto an open, grassy field. The air smelled sweet with the scents of flowers. The sun shined down on her skin, warming her from the outside in. Birds called to each other around her. It was calm and serene. And it unnerved her. Reluctantly, she took a step.
And fell.
The wind blasted around her, cold and biting on her arms. Her heart seized in her chest as she plummeted in the free fall. Gulping down the frigid air, Melia twisted around to see the maze disappearing from view as her body dropped downward. Like before, the woman flung her arms out, frantic to slow the speed of her fall.
But as abruptly as she fell, she stopped.
The woman's body now floated in mid air, bouncing up and down with the air currents. Struggling, she manage to force herself upright, using the tiny air currents as a platform to stand upon. She tried to move forward but couldn't. Again, she tried to take one step, and then the other, but her legs would not follow the instructions. They were frozen in place: paralyzed. A shiver ran down her spine as she tried to determine her exact location. Casting her eyes to the right, Melia's eyes spotted the towers of Alcamoth miles from her current position. She was somewhere in the Eryth Sea. Swiveling her head to the left, she looked for other recognizable places to give her clues. But as her eyes glazed over the landscape, she found none.
And then she cast her eyes downward and paled.
Directly below her was a bottomless hole, darker than the night sky. Purple clouds slowly swirled around its gaping entrance, like sharks waiting for prey. Fear pulsated in her veins and Melia reached out to her wings to fly upward and away. But they wouldn't move. Again and again she tried, but to no avail. She had to get away from this place, from whatever that looming darkness below was. There was something frightening about the hole, something that made her skin crawl and insides turn to mush. Something sinister that threatened to eat the very life out of her.
Desperate, she squeezed her eyes shut and pushed every muscle in her body to move.
And she did.
Slowly, she was dragged towards the hole by an invisible hand. It pulled at her ankles, tightening around them with each inch of movement. Screaming, Melia twisted in the air, pushing and pushing at her wings to move, but they did not. Tears dotted her eyes as she clawed at the sky, trying to find some hidden foothold to keep herself from getting sucked in. But it continued to pull her in, inch by inch. Biting her lip, the Empress tried to free her legs. But they remained unmovable. She kicked and felt nothin. Melia looked down to see them shimmering...and disappearing, just like they had before. Panic overloaded her body. Her heart thumped and her blood roared. Her arm movements were chaotic. Her body twisted in mid air; each movement trying to escape the pull of the hole.
But it was futile.
The sky fell away and in her peripheral vision, she saw the rising up of blackness.
Melia opened her mouth again to scream, but it filled with the darkness. It filled her throat, choking her, and flooded her nose, blocking her air pathways. Her lungs burned and throat shriveled. The pain ripped through her body, breaking down every molecule of her being.
And her vision went black.
Sweat slid down her forehead as Melia awoke, tumbling out of her bed. Groaning, she turned her face to the right and opened her eyes, focusing on where the bed train met the carpet. Her heart continued to thump in her chest as the memory of her dream stabilized in her mind. Sighing, the Empress pushed herself off the ground and stood, rolling her bruised shoulders back and forth.
Reaching a hand over her left shoulder, she rubbed the tender spot, wincing as her fingers pressed into her skin. Once again, the first part of the dream was easily decipherable. She was trying to catch whoever this woman was that Alderon had described. Whether it was Miriall or another. And Melia couldn't see who it was because she did not know her identity. Simple.
The second part? The free fall was a repeat from the previous dreams. That was not alarming. Not as alarming as it had been in the very first dream she'd had. At this point, she almost expected it to be a part of each dream she had. Not that it didn't quicken her pulse still or spread adrenaline through her veins. But the expectation of the scene took the edge off, even by a small part.
It was the last part that made her brow furrow as she reached to the right shoulder and rubbed the bruised muscle. The hovering above the hole, which she assumed was the ether pocket. Truthfully, the Empress had not made a trip to inspect the site. She said it was out of busyness, but she knew it was truly out of fear. And that is what this dream played on, that deep seated fear of ultimate destruction. Her stomach cramped and twisted into knots as she remembered being dragged into its void expanse. It was horrific, knowing she could not escape. It seemed inevitable in the dream that she would be lost to the darkness, unable to reclaim control of her body and mind. And it had destroyed her.
Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, Melia turned her head to glance at the empty bottle of wine. The alcohol had been a welcome friend last night, especially considering the last conversation of the day. She thought it would help lull her to sleep, and so it did. But perhaps it was the drink that brought out her fears in the dream. It seemed like a logical explanation why the demons in her subconscious had come out to play. She only preferred it to have been done during her waking hours as sleep was something she so desperately needed. Though that wasn't new.
Sighing, the Empress rubbed her temples, feeling the slight headache growing behind her eyes. Who was the woman? Who was this enigma that hid from her so aptly? Melia bit her lip as she recalled Alderon's fearful eyes as he spoke in bits and pieces about his antagonizer. Clearly, this woman was dangerous. Surely, anyone who worked with Camar would be. But from the little the High Entia knew, it seemed that this woman had more influence over the events of the past few months than maybe Camar himself. And that was a disconcerting hypothesis. Melia dropped her hands into her lap, eyes unfocusing on the scene in front of her. She'd have to start at the beginning. Trace all the clues of the saboteur, Camar. Start with all of Miriall's actions and see what information that would yield. Maybe then Empress would be able to find the traitors and unveil the identity of the woman.
The grandfather clock in the next room clanged noisily, interrupting her meditation. A reminder that the day was almost upon her. Reluctantly, Melia pushed the thoughts to the side. There was no more time to mull over them. It was time to get to work. Pulling herself up off the bed, the woman wandered into the washroom and proceeded through her morning routine.
As she washed and clothed, her mind drifted back to the events of the previous day. The wounds were a little less tender, and she could bear to think about her father and brother without tears leaping to her eyes. But the sadness still hovered around her. The ache of her heart did not abate. Not that she expected it to do so. Eventually, it would get smaller, and she would be able to put it away again. But for now, she would not do that. She would continue to mourn, as she had denied herself that right almost a year ago.
Thirty minutes later, the Empress, dressed in a new black dress, was ready to meet the day. Upon opening the door to greet James and Elrich, her eyes widened as she saw James held a bouquet of Night Lilies. They glimmered in the daylight. The white flowers stained with purple and streaks had always been a favorite of hers. Just as much as the Dhalias. The sweet smell of the Night Lilies reached her nose and she took the bouquet he offered. Silent, she shot him a questioning look.
Twitching his nose, James responded, "Dunban...brought these by earlier."
Her heart flipped.
"Dunban?"
"Erm...yes." James nodded, shooting a glance at Elrich, whose face remained impassive as ever.
Melia looked down at the flowers, inspecting the careful arrangement into the brown paper folds that enclosed the steps together. Gently, her fingers moved the stems aside and discovered a small white envelope nestled into between the stems. She felt her stomach drop out at the sight. What was this? What did he have to say to her?
"I'll put these in water before we leave." Melia said, holding the flowers to her chest. She strode across the parlor and to the kitchen, her mind buzzing with questions about the white envelope waiting for her to open. Quickly, she placed the bouquet onto the counter and pulled out a vase from a nearby cabinet. After filing the vase with water, she removed the lilies from their brown paper wrapping. One by one, she put them into the vase and expertly arranged the flowers just as her mother had taught her to do. Once she was satisfied with the array, she turned to the envelope. Scrunching her brows together, Melia stared at it, unsure of whether she wanted to open it. But she didn't not want to not open it either.
Reluctantly, Melia's fingertips slid the envelope to her across the counter. After another moment of starting, she picked it up and opened it, pulling out the note that was encased inside. To her surprise, it was handwritten, not in the usual print, but in the cursive style. She had to admit, he did have beautiful penmanship. It read:
"Melia. I wanted to apologize for the intrusion last night. I had only hoped to offer my condolences and any support you needed, but instead I worsened your pain. It was not my intention to do so. But I still apologize for what did happen, though I know an apology is nothing but words without actions. Thus, I shall respect your wishes to stay away. But I am here for you should you ever require help. I hope this day is much better for you than the last."
She read the lines over and over again, soaking up each word in the letter. Bringing the note to her chest, she exhaled. So much said, so much left unsaid. It was both lovely and saddening. Thoughtful and chivalrous. And now he was removing himself voluntarily from her company at her request. Her eyelids pressed together, emotions at war inside of her heart. The double need to have him close and far was driving her crazy. But keeping him away was the intelligent choice. He was leaving, and she did not have to make the departure any more painful than it needed to be.
Opening her eyes, Melia glanced towards the lillies. They glistening in the sunlight that filtered through the curtains of the kitchen windows. They were beautiful, a sure sign of the better day to come. The gesture was a welcome one, especially with the darkness of the previous day. Lightly, the woman stroked the petals of one of the lilies, feeling the softness under her fingertips.
She wanted to see him.
The clock struck from the parlor with a bang, dragging her thoughts back to the present. The Empress needed to go to her cabinet meeting. With a final glance at the flowers, she pocketed the note and left the suite, the flowers still on her mind.
The cabinet meeting and the People's Council meeting ended up merging into one long session. Normally, this would have been bothersome to the Empress, but after yesterday's events, this was beneficial, if not preferable. For many of the matters up for discussion had been prompted by the previous day, and required both governmental bodies. Thus, a longer meeting in comparison to two shorter ones where she had to get separate feedback and opinions was the best course of action.
Through the three hours, they discussed the plans for rebuilding the school, instituting background checks on the sale of weapons, and mainly the reinvigoration of the commercial district. Specifically, how to incentivize citizens to start up their previous businesses, as well as bring in new ones. Also, how to provide space for those merchants from the Homs Colonies or Frontier Village coming to sell their wares. And then what kind of taxes would be levied for both imports and exports. There was much to discuss and a lot more to decide upon, and there was the certainty that not everything had been thought of just yet. It was a broad-based plan, ranging from infrastructure to accounting, logistics and bureaucracy. But towards the end of the discussion, Melia felt that the plan had a strong foundation, and in the coming months, Alcamoth would once again return to its former glory.
"Empress."
She looked up from her notes where she had been jotting down a reminder to reach out to Chief Dunga to discuss the taxes. "Yes, Kiefer?"
The Homs Entia glanced at Songya, who nodded, and then said to Melia, "There is one more item we would like to address."
"What is that?"
"Prison Island."
Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Oh. What of it?"
Kiefer folded his arms across his chest, his face impassive though the Empress detected a slight undercurrent of keenness in his voice. "There has been quite a response to the Memorial through the public. It seems many want to devote government funds to its continued renovation."
"...really?"
That was not something she had expected. Not that it was unwanted.
"Yes, your Majesty. I've heard so myself." Songya agreed.
"There are those who wish to become part of that renovation comittee, with your approval of course." Shalen added timidly, ducking her head quickly.
Melia felt her heart bloom. She permitted a smile to appear on her face as she responded, "I...I would be delighted for it to become a public project." In truth, she had expected that the renovations would continue from her family's inheritance, as it had when she'd started. That had not bothered her to the slightest. But the fact that her people wanted to be a part of the monument's creation...
"Wonderful. Then we'll start to draw up a budget. Do you have plans for the upper levels?" Songya asked.
"I do. II will have Serenity set up a meeting for tomorrow where we can discuss."
"I look forward to seeing them." Kiefer said.
And then she dismissed them. The participants slowly ambled out of the room, heading to their next meetings or tasks. But as Melia placed her notepads into her briefcase, she looked up to see Songya approaching, her solemn face now wearing a smile. "You took my advice."
"Advice?" Melia thought back through the conversations she'd had with Songya, searching for the details.
"When we first met."
It was enough to have her remember. Melia nodded. "Inadvertently, I suppose."
"Well, it did you good. Everyone was talking about your speech last night when they came back to the city."
"And I suppose my blunder."
Songya shook her head and gave Melia a serious glance. "I told you they wanted to see their ruler not just as a leader, but also as a person. You finally showed them that."
"I suppose. I hope they do not think me weak now."
"No, Empress. On the contrary, they think you're very strong. The Prison Island memorial is a testament of that." Songya laid a hand on her shoulder. "What you did and said yesterday renewed the faith of many. You showed them another side to you and they cannot ignore that valor. Keep that in mind as you go forward."
Then Songya turned and walked to the door where Kiefer awaited her, leaving Melia with words she had never expected to hear.
The sun had just hit the highest point in the sky as Melia exited the Western Sitting Room, heading towards her next meeting. Her stomach grumbled, complaining about the lack of breakfast and now an apparent later lunch. She did not have another meeting for about an hour but it would be best to prepare for the coming gathering in the free time. But her stomach rebelled, twisting in on itself. Perhaps she could sneak in a snack before her meeting with the Minister of the Treasury. As the Empress made her way across the Great Hall, she felt heads turn and voices lower. But her ears picked up the tones of the whispers: excited, inspired. A seed of joy bloomed in her chest as she continued her course towards the exit. Perhaps Songya was right. Public opinion had taken a turn for the better.
Behind her, a voice called out. "Empress!"
Stopping, she turned to see Sharla and Fiora walking across the hall towards her. It felt strange for them to use her moniker instead of her name. But they knew they were in public, being watched by many High Entia, who would consider it a slight not to use it.
"Hello."
"How are you doing?" Fiora asked tentatively, leaning forward and tying her hands behind her back.
"I'm better. Thank you for asking."
"We were planning on going to lunch. Would you like to join us?" Sharla said.
The tone was less of an ask and more of a statement, to which Melia nodded. She did have an hour, and it would be nice to have company, especially if it distracted her from the impending thoughts of her brother and father. And, to be fair, if she did not eat, her mind would be too distracted to be productive during her coming meeting.
"Where shall we go?" Melia asked. To be plain, she knew that there were a few shops and eateries that had popped up in the past two months, but she had never frequented them, out of busyness or fear of some sort of wrath from the people. Perhaps now would be a good time while she had incurred favor.
"Well, there's a noodle place just around the corner if you want something quick. Or a Nopon cuisine restaurant on the lower level. What do you feel like?" Sharla inquired. It was clear to Melia what the Homs woman was doing; trying to make her feel like she was in control of her life, especially after the trauma of the previous day. The Empress was grateful for the effort, though it truly was not needed.
"I do have a meeting to attend to, so speed must take priority."
"Noodles it is." Fiora grinned.
They began their walk towards the exit of the Great Hall when Fiora asked, "So...how are you doing?"
Puzzled, Melia responded, "As I said, I'm fine."
"Not about Alderon. I mean about...Dunban."
She should've known Fiora would bring it up sooner or later. Melia knew that it wasn't out of curiousity but concern. Nonetheless, she wasn't sure she was entirely comfortable discussing the details of their conversation and the impact it had had on her. But before she could respond, another presence invaded their atmosphere. Melia turned to her right to see a pair of icy eyes drilling into her own.
Nae'ell.
Clearing her throat, Melia address the Entian woman with a monotone voice. "Nae'ell. I have not seen you for some days."
"Well Melia, some of us have the decency to privately mourn for the dead instead of parading around and using such emotion to become the center of attention and pity."
It stung, but Melia kept a blank face.
"She did not do that." Fiora shot back. Melia laid a hand on her friend's arm, but Fiora did not back down. "She brought everyone together. That is what a leader does."
Nae'ell shifted her gaze to Fiora for a moment then back to Melia. "That emotional display at the gathering last night was well performed. Bravo, Empress. You amaze me with your political acumen every day."
Melia narrowed her eyes. "I do what is best for my people."
"Of course. Excuse me for doubting your vast wisdom." She paused, a snarl appearing on her lips. "Although you did miss Camar and Miriall. Right in front of your eyes. I wonder how that will play when the public realize that important little fact."
"Then I will answer truthfully."
"Ah, of course you will. After all, you are quite the martyr." Nae'ell laughed. "Bearing the world on your shoulders. Enduring what you think no one else can. You think if you sacrifice yourself then people will love you."
Melia's cheeks burned but she had no words to reply.
"And your bitterness has poisoned you." Sharla said, crossing her arms over her chest.
"How would you feel if your so-called sister condemned you to die?"
Melia met Nae'ell's eyes but remained silent. What could she say to that?
"As always, a pleasure to see you." The Entian woman reached out and patted Melia's cheek, a sneer in those indigo eyes. Then she walked away, tossing her dark hair over her pale shoulder.
"She makes me so mad." Fiora growled.
"She's just angry. She'll get over it in time." Sharla said. "If she doesn't, she was never truly your friend, Melia. Camar didn't give you much of a choice, and you did the best you could."
Solemnly, the Empress nodded. But Sharla's words were little comfort. Inwardly, she knew she had betrayed Nae'ell's trust. The last member of her family. And perhaps she had lost a dear friend forever.
The rest of her day was filled with meetings from one person to the next. Budget, balancing resources, correspondence to Chief Dunga and the two Homs Mayors, an inspection of the highlands operation, a site location for a water purification site. Her day was stacked to the brim, with no leeway to find a moment of respite or some quiet to think more on the problems she now faced. Not to mention the sadness that still weighed on her mind.
Finally the day was over, though her night left a mound of paperwork to get through. As she sipped tea and worked through it, Melia found her eyes wander occasionally to the vase of night lilies that now sat on the upper right corner of her desk. They began to bloom, knowing the sun was gone and the moon was high. Later, she would take them outside so they could enjoy the beams from the silver disc in the sky.
They also made her think of the giver. She hadn't seen him this day at all. IT was as he said: he would leave her be unless she had need for him.
That was a silly way to put it. Of course she needed him.
Finally, she finished the pile and made herself ready for the trip to Prison Island. Despite the reveal to her people, and the popular support to continue the renovations, Melia still had a few things she wanted to do on her own. This night, not very much, but one important thing that she should have done yesterday.
When the shuttle docked at Prison Island, Melia descended, this time the whole trio bounding up to the main stage. They walked towards the towering black wall, the warm, yellow lights of the lanterns welcoming them with each step. A toolkit in one hand, Melia walked to the wall.
As she put the kit down, James placed a ladder next to the wall, steadying it as she ascended. Once she reached the top step, her eyes fell level with the names in the last column. There were only three, with plenty of space below. Not that she wanted to fill that space, but it remained empty should it be necessary for use. As it was now.
Silently, the Empress held out her hand to Elrich. In her palm, he placed a medium-sized, drill like tool. It felt cool as she wrapped her fingers around it, feeling the weight pressing down on her hand. Then carefully, below the last name in the column, she brought the tool to the obsidian and began to etch another. The strokes were careful, deliberate. The metal caved easily under her grip, yielding to the lines and curves of the soul to be immortalized. When the final letter was carved, she pulled back to inspect the handiwork. Though the names were written in Bionitic Entian, the style was of Terentian, the language of their ancestors. She felt this style was prettier, elegant in a way that would honor these names through the coming centuries.
Again, she turned to Elrich and exchanged the engraving tool for another. Following the same lines, Melia filled in the hollowed out curvatures with silver paint, straight from the metallurgy. Immediately, it solidified as it seeped through each letter carving. Handing the tool back to Elrich, she cast her eyes over the new addition.
Alderon Casterson.
Forever immortalized.
Melia laid a hand next to the name, closing her eyes and summoning an image of the young Entian's face. This time, without the torment in his eyes, without the suffering in his body. She sought to remember him as he looked in his records: a smiling man with bright blue eyes, short blonde hair, and an eager smile that wished to live in harmony with his brothers and sisters.
She hoped his soul was at peace.
Opening her eyes, the Empress descended the ladder and dusted herself off, feeling the same sadness that had plagued her the day before. The 'if onlys' and the 'what ifs'. But it was too late for those. She knew that now. And she would forever remember his last moments in this world.
His last words sprung from her memory. He had said they were nothing but pawns. A shiver ran down her spine. What had he meant by that? Was she a pawn too? And to whom? Most likely to this woman Alderon had alluded to. A thousand questions rushed through Melia's head. Who was she? Was she Miriall? Was she a new player? What did she want? What was her end goal?
As James picked up the ladder and Elrich packed the tools away in the kit, the Empress looked at her bodyguards. The two men she trusted with her life. She hadn't yet confessed to them about this new, unknown antagonist. With the events of the previous day, there had been no time. Or she had had no energy. Either way, they knew not of what lurked in the darkness now. And if she was to discover the identity of this person, she could not do it alone.
"James. Elrich." Her voice was commanding, rigid. Immediately, their eyes locked onto her, alerted to her impending announcement. "I have something to tell you about Alderon. But what I am about to share stays strictly between the three of us. No one else is to know."
After she returned from Prison Island, the Empress found herself pacing the parlor. She wasn't quite ready to go to bed now that she had this woman on her mind, though the late hour demanded the High Entia put herself to bed. Especially with the necessary awakening to an early morning on the horizon. But her mind jumped from one thought to the next, attempting to see how the woman fit into the puzzle that was Camar and Alderon and Miriall. If she wasn't Miriall.
Her imagination jumped down that path, conjuring an image of the young High Entian woman who was previously on the Cabinet. A sweet face with gentle eyes. Was it possible for Miriall to be so cruel, so vindictive as to drive a man to kidnap and take hostage a group of innocent children? Did she fully believe in Camar's mission to demand Melia to abdicate the throne? Or did she do it out of misguided love for Camar? Although Camar had claimed that Miriall had been nothing but a pawn. Was there truth in that statement? Or was it Camar's pride that fueled him to take full responsibility? Melia shook her head, tired. There were too many questions and not enough answers to make any sorts of judgements. Nothing quite fit, and nothing could be discarded. All suspicions needed to be accounted for until the evidence proved otherwise. And yet, the Empress still had trouble believing the young woman could be capable of such treachery.
As her thoughts slipped away from Miriall, they landed upon her dear brother and father. They were never far from her mind, especially now that she had reopened those never fully healed wounds the previous day. Once again, the High Entia found herself wondering if the both of them were watching her from above (if the afterlife truly existed). If they were proud of the choices she had made or shamed by her ignorance. If only she'd had more time with her father to learn from him the ways of being an effective ruler, capable of knowing how to evaluate whether a choice was right or wrong after assessing all available evidence and analyzing all outcomes. If only she had more moments with Kallian to learn how to maintain grace under pressure, show compassion but sustain resolve.
But it mattered not. The past was the past and there was no use in wishing for what could have been. Exhausted by the regrets, the Empress opened the balcony doors and walked outside, feeling the bite of the crisp air on her skin. Leaning on the railing, she cast her eyes out in the night, studying the sparkles in the sky. The faint outlines of clouds drifted through the dark abyss above. Rain would come soon. The prospect brought a smile to her face. She loved rain. There was something spectacular about watching droplets of water fall from the skies and shower the world below. Something about cozying up inside and watching the landscape change before her eyes.
But then Melia also secretly loved to put herself in the path of the direct downpour. When she was younger, she and her mother would dance in the rain together in the gardens, away from the servants and other Royal Family members. Just the two of them, in their own little world. The Empress could recall down to the minute one winter morning when the rain fell, she and her mother snuck out of the city to the beach below, enjoying honey cakes while the drizzle drenched their hair and dotted their clothes. They had played together, stuffing their faces with sweets and running up and down the sandy plain, giggling in the mist.
An urge to fly out into the night gripped her tight. Suddenly, her suite felt claustrophobic; the trappings of her station oppressive and airless. The open sky called to the Homs Entia and her wings itched. A flight would be the perfect solution to calm her nerves and soothe her heart. Glancing over her shoulder, Melia was reminded of the two High Entia waiting outside the front door of her quarters. She ought to tell James and Elrich she was going for a flight. But she didn't wish to. They would insist on accompanying her, as was there charge. There was no blame in that, but she desired to be alone right now. It would be a short flight, that she promised herself. Not long enough to cause any damage. And certainly not long enough to cause them to worry, should they discover her missing. Quickly, she rushed in to her parlor, scrawled a note on her desk, and rushed outside, jumping into the air before she could give it a second thought.
Simultaneously, anxiety and elation hit her blood as she flew upwards into the darkened sky. But as her eyes adjusted to the evening black, her mind slowly emptied. The thoughts melted away as she felt the crisp breeze slide across her face. Fresh air. Taking a deep breath in and out, Melia felt her muscles relax as she soared through the sky, riding along with air currents.
Somersaulting, the Empress focused on her body spinning through the air. A smile lit up her face as she darted up and down, side to side, playing as she did when she was a little girl. The freedom was intoxicating. No eyes watching her, no voices in her ears. Just the whistle of the wind and the kiss of the heavens. In that moment, Melia felt the weight lifted from her shoulders, and knew that it was enough.
After a few moments, she stopped, floating in mid air as she looked across the night towards the lights in the distance. There it was, her floating memorial: Prison Island. It had undergone quite a transformation over the past half year. A small smile danced on her lips as the High Entia remembering the expressions of awe the previous day. They had been glad. Happy even to see the small sanctuary and wall of names. And Songya's words from the morning echoed in her ears. More evidence that her people were pleased by her work. Which is all she ever wanted.
Turning away, the woman knew it was most likely time for her to return to her suite and head to bed. But as she flew around the Villa, she felt a tug at her heart and a curiosity that would not abate. Against her better judgement, Melia glided towards one particular corner of the structure. Cautiously, she hovered in the air, maintaining a distance that would keep her from being easily identified. Her eyes could see that the curtains were open and a light was on. One glimpse. That's all she wished.
Shame burned her cheeks but she did not look away. It felt silly, pining outside a window for a future that had disappeared before her very eyes. Childish even.
You must let go.
It was the only rational course of action. The only logical one.
Then he walked by the window. And her heart leapt.
Groaning, the woman covered her face with her hands. What was she doing? This behavior was bordering on infantile. If she wanted to see Dunban, she could easily visit and give her thanks for the flowers. That was an enough of an explanation for a visit to satisfy her feelings. If the encounter evolved any more, she would not be averse. Because, although she still felt the sting of his abrupt announcement, she missed him.
He began to pass by the window again, and stopped abruptly. He turned his face upward, out into the night. For a split second, Melia stared back focusing on his eyes, both wanting and not wanting him to see her. But in the next instant, Melia tore away, fleeing through the sky towards the safety of her suite, away from those soul piercing eyes that haunted her heart.
"Do you really think someone so feeble minded could construct this complex of a plan? Since Dunban's arrival, I have planned all of this. The pipe in the field, the Soothsayer, the blackout, the stolen Scepter, the shuttle explosion. All of that was me."
She woke with a start, Camar's voice still echoing in her ears. She remembered the feel of his fingers on her skin and his lips on hers. She felt her face contort in disgust and her skin crawl. The memories hadn't plagued her for days, for which she was thankful. The woman did not want to think about those crazed green eyes or that cruel, harsh voice. But now, with him on the loose, and another player in the mix, she was forced to reminisce on those dark times.
What had he confessed to? She numbered the things off of her fingers, hearing his words once more. The pipe. The Soothsayer. The blackout. The stolen Scepter. The shuttle explosion. Five things. He had laid claim to all of those as part of his plan.
But what about the other things? What about Camille and her murder? Or the disappearance of the box of votes? Or now Alderon? Was he responsible for all of those as well? And if he were, why did he not name them as well? She knew Camar to be a proud man, eager to grab the spotlight at any moment possible. There would be no reason for him to not include those, unless he had not taken part. Which left Miriall, and or this woman.
Melia focused on Camar's claims about the blackout and the Scepter. Jarrack had said when he was attacked the night of the blackout, his attacker had distinctly said that 'she' should have been doing this. And Melia was now positive Jarrack's attacker was Camar. So he did not actually steal the Scepter, which left Miriall or the woman to the actual theivery. Maybe it was just his plan. Or maybe he stole it later.
That made no sense. Why would he steal it from his accomplice?
The night of the blackout had been a chaotic one for the city. After the lights had returned, Melia had learned of the fear her people had felt, the possible power grid issues, and the needed maintenance on the ether furnaces. But in the midst of it, she had been shut up in the nursery with Dunban. Her eyes closed as she remembered the heat on her skin and the desire in the air. The pointed questions he'd asked and the answers she wished to give. The closeness of their bodies and the inches between their lips.
Not now.
Furiously, the Empress pushed the longing aside. Instead, she jumped out of bed and poked her face behind the bedroom curtain. The sun was just rising, its orange and yellow rays streaking the light blue of the sky. Just after dawn. Perfect. She didn't need to be anywhere for a few hours. Enough time to do some investigating, now that Camar's words were in her brain.
In a flurry, she washed and dressed and exited her suite, still choosing to don the black, dress of mourning. Although this time it was accompanied by a small hat with a veil. Just enough to obscure her face for where they were going. When she opened the door to her suite, she saw that Elrich stood by the door, stone-faced as usual. He turned his body towards her, eyeing her with what she thought would be curiosity. "Empress, you are awake."
"I need to go to Camar's suite."
"James is off duty."
"There is no danger in visiting his abode."
"He may be there, lying in wait."
Melia felt the urge to roll her eyes but knew better. A tension still existed between herself and Elrich since his dismissal, despite his immediate reinstatement. While he would do nothing of the sort to defy her nor rail at her, Melia had no desire to enflame his ill temper. She only hoped he would forgive her in time, though to an extent, he already had by returning to his post. At least, she hoped that was what it was, instead of obligation.
"How much longer will James be off duty?"
"Only two more hours."
"That's fine. He can join us when he's ready." Elrich still did not move. "I promise that should anything appear to be suspicious, we will leave at once. I want to go over the evidence."
The Homs Entia looked at her as though he wanted to protest, but said nothing, apparently satisfied with that compromise. A pang of guilt washed through her; she did not want him to be nervous about her person or her temperament. The dismissal had been done in haste, and never was a permanent change in her mind. Only a means to get what she wanted. She'd have to make it up to him somehow. Nodding to him, Melia led the way out of the Villa, towards the Great Hall.
It was still quiet as the duo approached the residential district. Lights were off in the quarters that they passed. Their footsteps echoed off of the cobblestone path. There was still an hour or two before her people began to wake for the new day. Which meant Melia needed to use her time efficiently. She'd rather not be seen entering Camar's apartment.
Elrich pressed a code into the keypad next to the silver, metallic door, each number beeping under the pressure of his fingertip. After a moment, the door slid open and they stepped inside. Melia had been previously assured by security personnel that the room was left mostly untouched (waiting to be dismantled by her order), though the evidence that had been discovered was collected was stacked on the coffee table. These were copies, while the originals were under lock and key in the Archives. Upon seeing the stack of papers, she immediately went to it, spreading out the documents over the rectangular surface of the table.
All of the soothsayer pamphlets were there, notes scribbled in the margins. There was also a blueprint schematic of the lighthouse. A handwritten list of materials. A map of the Great Hall. A small notebook.
"What are we looking for, Empress?" Elrich said.
"I'm not sure. Any evidence of the woman, I suppose. I hope we'll know it when we find it."
They worked in silence. Melia continued to parse through the papers while Elrich moved through the rooms of the abode using an eye of intense scrutiny. Melia started with the Soothsayer notices. The pamphlets proved to be useless. She had seen all of these before. The words in the margins were scribbled thoughts for future pamphlets. Thought it was interesting to see on the final pamphlet that...
She turned to the blueprint, a cursory eye passing over the schematics. There was nothing out of the ordinary here. If it were the truth, Camar had been at the lighthouse the evening of the blackout. That would be the reason for the blueprint, to understand where the power cords were and to shut off all power. Nothing suspicious there.
Pushing the blueprint away, Melia moved to the map of the Great Hall. It showed each level, from the highest tower, to the bottom dungeons. He must have used this when planning the coup. Pushing it away, she examined the handwritten list. The writing was akin to chicken scratch, difficult to read. But at the very bottom, she could just make out the word 'Miriall'. Was this a list of instructions for the young woman? But there were no other clues.
Finally, she turned to the small notebook. As she flipped it open, Melia noticed the handwriting was different. This was not written by Camar. She began reading the notes, flipping through the first couple of pages. They were notes of Melia's whereabouts at every moment of the day. As if they had been copied from the schedule Serenity so adeptly kept from any eyes but her own. Someone had been watching her.
A chill ran down the woman's back and she continued to scan the pages. There were notes on each of the cabinet members as well. Their apparent likes and dislikes. Their relationships. A wave of nausea fell over Melia; the violations of privacy were staggering. She flipped the pages and finally came upon one with a name bolded at the top.
Her heart stopped.
Dunban. And underneath it, copious notes about his activities, the comings and goings from the Villa, the frequency of his visits to Melia, and the note of the apparent arrival of Fiora.
Alderon had been right. Someone was watching. Always watching.
Stunned, Melia closed the notebook and lay down on the floor. Her mind span around. Everyone she knew was being watched. Everyone she knew was in danger. Minutes later, the door opened to reveal a flustered James, hair still dripping from what must have been a quick shower. Melia looked up for a second, then lay back down. "Empress, I apologize for not being here earlier." James said, panting. His armor clanged together as he caught his breath.
"You were off duty, James. You need rest as well." Melia remarked.
"But I should be here to help you." He protested, just as Elrich entered the room.
"No. As I said, you needed to rest. And no matter, you are here now." She sat up and looked between the two of them. "Once this whole business is done, I will be happy to send you both on vacation." James shook his head and Elrich's lips flattened into a grim line, both sure signs of protest. She declared, "State mandated vacation. An order, not a request."
They glared at her, silent, but she cared not. They had earned it and needed, especially after the ten months they'd had. And the Empress would make sure they took it. Even if that meant stripping them of their titles. Again. Internally, she sighed. She hoped it would not come to that. That was a kind of dissension she did not need, not to mention the tension it would create. But she would worry about this when it was time to cross that bridge.
"Why were you on the ground?"
Sighing, Melia handed the notebook to him. James opened it and began to peruse, Elrich reading over his shoulder. Standing, the Empress dusted herself off. "Unnerving, isn't it?" Neither said anything as they continued to read. Finally, James closed the notebook.
"We must be on our guard." Elrich said.
Melia nodded. "We need to go to Miriall's now. I think I should have just enough time before the cabinet meeting this morning."
Ten minutes later, after weaving through the streets of the district, the sounds of inhabitants moving around in their homes filling the air, the trio reached Miriall's quarters. This part of the residential district was much drearier than Camar's Melia noted. After the commercial district was up and running, she would start renovations on this part of the city.
Entering the smaller apartment, Melia found it dark and quiet. Flipping on the light switch, her eyes took in the scene. Furniture was overturned, papers scattered, drawers pulled open. Someone was here. Had Miriall destroyed any involvement she'd had with Camar? Had she fled Alcamoth? Or, if this mysterious woman existed, had she come through here to find some certain piece of evidence? Or was it something entirely different?
There were too many unknowns to make a well-informed guess.
The Empress stepped in and began the search, careful to not disturb too much of the scene. James and Elrich followed her example starting in other rooms. But as the hour wore on, they found nothing of merit. Nothing out of the ordinary. There were no clues to what had happened in the apartment. No signs of anything being taken or anything else.
Frustrated, Melia balled her hands into fists. How could there be nothing to point them in the right direction? How could she find nothing at all? How could there be absolutely no evidence whatsoever of this hidden villain? They were pointless questions she asked herself. For she knew the answers. Whoever it was knew how to hide. And had probably hidden since the very beginning.
And that frightened the Empress.
It had been another long day. A long day in truth, but a well spent day. Approvals had been made on all of the budgets for the projects proposed the previous day. The People's Council seemed to be appeased with the direction of government matters thankfully. Melia did not think she had the attention to devote to them should they disagree with any plans. And each cabinet member and his or her team seems to be equally dedicated to the tasks at hand. All in all, things were taking a turn for the better for the High Entia. Melia hoped it would stay that way, and that this woman, whomever she was, would not derail the efforts again.
Despite the optimist buzzing in the air, Melia felt acutely aware of the bruises on her heart. It had been a few days since she had spoken to Dunban. Save for her flyby by his window, Melia had not crossed paths with the Homs at all. He had kept his promise to stay far from her. In the morning and evening, her eyes found the flowers that still bloomed in her kitchen, a constant reminder of him. She longed to talk with the man, even for a moment. She wanted to make things right between the two of them. As right as they could be anyway.
And that is how the woman found herself outside of his door. Nervous, she shifted side to side, not daring a look at either James or Elrich. What they were thinking, she did not know. And preferred not to. It wasn't a subject she wanted to speak about with anyone. Taking a breath, Melia rapped her knuckles on the metal door. She still didn't know what she would say to him. But she had to try.
"Fiora, I'll be right out."
Her heartbeat spiked at the sound of his voice. It felt like ages since she'd heard those low tones. The High Entia heard shifting and moving from within and for a split second thought about running down the hall, away from the door, disappearing as if she had never been there. But that was childish. And she could not run from a problem. That was not her way.
The door opened and Dunban stood in the frame, looking effortlessly handsome. Her knees wobbled as she peered into his brown eyes, momentarily speechless. His eyebrows raised in surprise.
Recovering, she rushed, "I apologize. If you are expecting Fiora, I can come back at a different time."
"No, no, not at all. Come in."
Melia nodded and stepped into his suite, the door closing behind her. It was interesting, the fact that he had always come to her for their meetings, and now she was visiting him.
"Please, sit."
She took a seat in a red satin armchair and he sat adjacent to her on the creme sofa. Her eyes glazed over him, taking in every inch of his being, as if she were seeing him anew. His brown hair was tied back as it had been at the party. He wore a white tunic shirt, partially open at the top, enough to see the tan skin of his chest. A blush crept onto her cheeks and her eyes fell to the floor.
"To be honest, I didn't expect to see you anytime soon."
"I...I wanted to come by and thank you for the flowers. They are beautiful." She looked up at him, her voice just above a whisper.
"I'm glad you liked them."
That voice. Those eyes. How would she ever say good-bye?
"Dunban...I..." Her throat sealed, closing in on any words that wished to be said. The Empress in her wanted to confide in him about the secret woman. About her frustration at finding no evidence whatsoever. About the notebook detailing her every move. But the woman in her wanted to ask him to stay in Alcamoth instead of leave. Or to stay with her each night, regardless of his impending departure. She wanted to share with him the grief that lived in her heart and the longing in her bones. She wanted to feel the touch of his hand on her skin, both reassuring as well as desirous.
It was all so complicated: various emotions vying for her full attention, not being able to prioritize which needed to be dealt with first. And it left her speechless, struggling to find the right words to communicate any of the thoughts.
As if he read her mind, Dunban reached out and put a hand on her knee.
"Is this alright?"
His voice was gentle, and it softened her. A thankful smile appeared on her lips.
"Yes."
A shot of adrenaline went straight to her heart at the contact, but she blossomed under the warmth of his palm. She put her hand over his and they sat together in silence for a few minutes. It was almost perfect, this moment together. Inside, her heart leapt at the closeness to him; she would savor every second of it. She didn't want to ruin the instance with words about the future or conspiracies in the present. Words that could dig up any negative emotions that lay sleeping in her heart. Or words that would lay the path for an admission of weakness that would embarrass and shame her later. No, Melia did not want to fight with him. And maybe he felt the same way, keeping his silence as well.
Finally, Melia blinked and parted her lips. The words were on the tip of her tongue, waiting to be expressed. But they faltered, and instead, she repeated, "I just wanted to come by and thank you for the flowers."
"It was my pleasure."
Gracefully, she rose from her seat and walked to the door, Dunban following. "I hope you have a good rest of your day."
"You as well." He replied, keeping a respectful distance, one that she wished to close between them. But the High Entia remained in place, giving him a smile she only half felt. Then, without another moment to waste, she walked out the door and headed back to her suite, simultaneously elated and deprived.
Sleep did not come to the Empress that night. Tossing and turning, Melia kept her eyes shut, hoping that the darkness would fool her brain into resting for the evening. Instead, sleep continued to elude her, forcing her overactive mind to occupy itself. Unsurprisingly, it ruminated once more on the events of the day, Alderon's words, and the woman in the dark. Folding into a fetal position, the Empress began retracing all of the information she had, any detail she could remember in the last few months that pointed to the mysterious woman.
Biting her lip, Melia recalled the first instance of trouble. It had been the pipe in the field. Camar had confessed to that during their confrontation during the coup. He had convinced Alderon to do it. Which made sense considering Camar had been in charge of the irrigation projects on the plains. Nothing suspicious in that instance.
What had come after that? The Empress had wanted to meet with each of her people to hear their concerns. Her heart thudded as she remembered the afternoon in the clinic. She hadn't thought about that moment for a long time. Camille lunging at her with a knife. Her stomach flip flopped as she ran through the details behind the encounter. According to Alderon, Camar and this woman, who could easily have been Miriall, approached them and convinced the red-headed Entian woman to try and kill Melia. Camille had agreed, and after her failure, had been murdered. And the two guards watching her had been drugged, presumably to keep the identity of the murderer hidden. Melia blinked and furrowed her brows in concern. Camar had not taken responsibility for that. Did that mean it was all the woman's doing? Was it Miriall's? She did have access to drugs since she worked in the clinic.
But there was nothing concrete to determine there. Melia moved on, forcing her brain to put the events in exact order. Shortly after Camille's death, the Soothsayer pamphlets began circulating. All of those headlines had come from the cabinet meetings, which were meant to be classified and confidential. Both Camar and Miriall were on the cabinet, so they easily had access to that information. Camar had laid claim to owning the identify of the Soothsayer. That case was closed.
The Empress pushed on, still hoping to find something missing. The election for the People's Council had come next. All cabinet members but Shalen and Jarrack had been initially accounted for at the vote counting. Then it turned out that their box of votes had been taken. They had denied any sabotage, and it turned out they had nothing to do with the saboteur's actions. But that still meant the box was missing. However, Melia recalled Dunban telling her that Nae'ell had mentioned that Miriall had said Camar had gone missing for a moment during the vote counting. Obviously it was too much hearsay to put any stock to it. But if he had been missing, it made sense for him to have taken it. But, once again, he laid no claim to that action. And why would Miriall give up Camar in such a way if she were working with Camar? That made no sense.
Frustrated, she rolled onto her stomach, stuffing her face in the soft pillow. Next came the blackout and the missing Scepter. This event was crystal clear. Camar had disarmed Jarrack and turned out the power. Miriall, or the woman, had taken the Scepter. Eventually, Camar would retain the Scepter, leading Melia on to say he knew how to find it. Eventually he used it as leverage against Melia for the inevitable coup d'etat. And Melia knew how that ended. However, during that entire encounter, Miriall had been sequestered in her home, free to stay or leave until Dunban and Tyrea had gone to her and tied her up. Why hadn't she left before her capture? Instead, the woman watched the action unfold from afar, safe in her own home. This was perplexing. Had Camar discarded her? Or was this her own choice?
Sighing, Melia backtracked and flopped onto her back. She had missed the shuttle bombing. Turning her head to the side, the High Entia recalled the burning sensation that had scalded her back. The adrenaline that ran through her veins as she pulled Fiora from the wreckage. Just the mere memory sent goosebumps up her arms. Emotionlessly, Melia pushed the emotion down, returning to the analysis of the event. Camar had also taken responsibility for the bombing. And it was clear that Miriall had made the counterfeit sensor. Nae'ell had mentioned that Miriall wanted to go to the ceramics studio. The counterfeit was a simple ceramic, so that seemed reasonable.
The High Entia ran her hands through her hair, losing her fingers in the soft locks. Staring up at the dark ceiling, she felt herself tire of the exercise. But she forced herself to push forward, as there was not that much left. Camar's escape came next. That could have been easily facilitated by Miriall, especially since she had also disappeared as well, and there was no way of telling if Miriall had disappeared first or after Camar (which would give evidence to whether there was a third person involved; but there was none so she could not pursue this line of thinking). The guards were missing too, which meant they had been paid off, or they had been killed. Which, if Miriall had drugged the Camille's guards, meant that she was equally capable of disposing of Camar's guards as well.
Last but not least was the incident with Alderon at the school. Carefully, Melia touched the memories, wincing as she remembered Alderon's terrified face. They were still to fresh to not be painful. But she had to go through them again. He said the woman told him to do it. That could easily be Miriall. He also said the woman had kept him in the dark, with Camar. No other descriptors, which meant the information was useless.
Once again, she turned on her side, resting her head on top of her hands. It seemed that Camar was the mastermind behind it all. And he had admitted that Miriall had been his accomplice. But there were still holes. Still things that did not quite add up. What was she missing? There was a piece of the puzzle just out of reach. She could feel it. It was so close. All she needed was one more shred of information to grab ahold of it and fit it in place.
Furious, Melia ran through the timeline again, this time trying to fit in the evidence she'd found in Camar's apartment. The pamphlets, the blueprint, the map, the notebook. Everything seemed clear but the notebook. The notes...what did they mean? They had been written in another script. Most likely that of the woman's. Why were there all of these notes about Melia's routine? Someone had followed her around. Investigating the different cabinet members. Focusing on Dunban as well.
Her mind came to a full halt.
Dunban.
The image of the page appeared in her mind. There was a note, scribbled on the side that Fiora was his sister.
She'd forgotten Dunban had received a note threatening Fiora's life.
Which meant the author of the notebook was responsible for that threat.
And the Empress had never told Camar that Fiora was Dunban's sister. Or Miriall.
Melia gasped.
Nae'ell.
She put her hands over her mouth.
No.
But it was too late. Her mind latched on. The evening Dunban had returned from Colony 9, he had brought Shulk and Fiora with him. And together, they had crossed paths with Nae'ell in the Villa. Melia had introduced Nae'ell to Fiora...as Dunban's sister.
No. No. No.
Horror washed over the woman and she sat up in bed. She had told Nae'ell about the traitor in the cabinet. Soon after, Nae'ell had pointed her to Jarrack and Shalen, saying that there was something going on between them that seemed rather suspicious. And Melia had taken the bait, refocusing all of her efforts on the two of them. Then it appeared they were responsible when their vote box disappeared. Too much of a coincidence.
Her stomach turned. Nae'ell had said Miriall invited her to the ceramics studio. That was where the fake monitor was manufactured for the shuttle bombing. That was too much of a coincidence as well.
Melia's mind spun and she felt herself falling away from everything. Nae'ell proposed that she build a school for the community. Nae'ell had claimed Camar had stolen the Scepter. Nae'ell encouraged her to step down from the throne.
Nae'ell had called herself Melia's "pair of eyes and ears around the city."
The Empress clenched her stomach.
The notebook. Always watching. Just like Alderon said.
Oh god.
There was no time to waste. Frantic, she jumped out of bed and rushed to the parlor, still in her pajamas. Grabbing her staff, Melia flung open the front door, her eyes wild with fear. "James, you said you searched everywhere for Camar?"
Bewildered, he said, "Yes, your Grace."
"Did you search any of the suites here in the Villa?" But she already knew the answer.
"No. I did not think that was permitted."
"We must go. Now."
Without waiting, Melia ran down the hallway of the Villa, turning left and right as she raced towards Nae'ell's room. Would Nae'ell still be there? Would she be waiting for Melia? Or had she fled to save herself, knowing her disappearance would cause the Empress great anxiety?
How could she have been so blind? How could she have not seen the truth?
It felt like hours racing through the corridors until Melia reached Nae'ell's suite. As she slid to a stop outside the quarters, she felt the eyes of her bodyguards turn on her. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the expressions they wore: James shocked and Elrich astonished.
"Arm yourselves."
Without question, James and Elrich silently unsheathed their swords. The Empress had no idea what she would find in the suite. Her heart pounded and beads of sweat ran down the back of her neck. But there was only one way to find out.
Knocking on the door, Melia found it open slowly, beckoning her inside. All the lights were off, only the luminescence from the stars dimly lighting the room. James and Elrich stepped in front of Melia and entered, eyes scanning the scene for any sort of threat. But it was silent like a tomb. Following, the Empress stepped inside and closed the door behind her, the lock turning with a low click. Melia licked her dry lips and swallowed, feeling the anticipation fill the air.
James and Elrich nodded at each other, a silent message passing between the men. James headed to the left towards the kitchen, while Elrich headed right into the bedroom. Melia followed Elrich, brandishing her staff in both hands. She would not be caught off guard should Nae'ell show her face. Cautiously, Elrich turned the knob and opened the door. It opened with a slight creak, sending a shiver up Melia's spine. They crept over the threshold and into the room.
Then a smell filled her nose. The smell of decay.
The urge to gag overwhelmed her, but she forced the bile rising in her throat down. Eyes watering, she covered her nose and mouth with her left hand, determined to keep her wits about her. She rounded the bed on the right while Elrich took the left side. Nothing moved, nothing breathed save for the two investigators. As Melia reached the edge of the bed, she heard a creak underneath her feet. Cautiously, she rocked back and forth, the creaking becoming louder with each jolt. Her eyes met Elrich's and he rushed around the bed to her side, moving her out of the way. James entered and immediately covered his own mouth. But he had no time to acclimate to the horrid climate. Elrich gestured for him to get to the other side of the bed. Each gripped the bed frame, and the two men pushed the bed towards James, leaving him with just enough space to crawl out and back around.
Melia crouched on the ground, sucking in the putrid air, gulping in a way that it would not touch her tongue. Quickly, she felt through the carpet and came across a fissure in the fibers. Elrich leaned over her to turn on the lamp on the night stand, illuminating the ground. Eyes adjusting to the light, she quickly saw the break in the carpet. Digging her fingers into the fissure, she pulled it back to reveal a trap door. James ushered her backward and knelt, tugging at the silver handle on the wooden door. He pulled. With a creak, it rose upward.
The stench of rot exploded into their faces.
Melia turned and gagged, unable to keep it down any longer. The vomit rose in her throat and burst from her mouth onto the ground. Tears stung her eyes as she coughed, the acid burning her esophagus. She coughed again and again, attempting to get her bearings. Finally, the nausea passed. Wiping her mouth, Melia turned her head to eye the black that awaited them in the room below. What was it? What was down there, hidden from the light?
She had one idea, and it filled her with dread.
Without word, Elrich descended into the pit, the darkness swallowing him up in a matter of seconds. Then a small ball of fire flared to life; she could see Elrich held an ether fireball in his hand. But he moved out of her line of vision to inspect the hidden room. Her heart thumped hard in her chest, afraid for him. Afraid of what danger was down in those depths.
The seconds rolled by. Utter silence. Was he alright? Had something happened? No, of course not. They would have heard it.
But the anticipation began to eat at her stomach, turning it into knots.
Elrich's face reappeared. A second of relief passed through her veins. Elrich's eyes flicked from Melia to James.
Something wasn't right.
"Get the Empress out of here."
"What is it, Elrich?" Melia asked, her voice wavering.
"James. Do it now."
James wrapped his arms around Melia and began to lift her up, but she shook him off. "No. I want to know what's down there."
"Empress, it is not fit for you to see."
"Elrich, this is not a discussion."
"I am trying to protect you, your Highness." He growled. "If you kindly would remember, that is my sole purpose."
The insult stung but she had to know. Needed to know or it would eat her from the inside. Quietly, she said, "I will leave if you tell me what is down there."
"Camar. He's dead."