Underland. The Dark City.
2352.
49th Year of the Reign of King Caspian X.
Rilian.
Rilian exhaled sharply, steadying himself as the world came back into focus. His vision was blurry, his mind fogged with something he couldn't quite grasp. Shadows of memories lingered – just on the edge of his consciousness –yet each time he reached for them; they dissolved like mist beneath the morning sun.
Rolling hills. Laughter. Glittering halls.
People who wore smiles as if they had never known sorrow.
But none of it meant anything to him.
He remembered nothing from before the moment the Emerald Queen pulled him from the dark waters of the lake, years past. When she had rescued him.
Rilian blinked, slowly becoming aware of his own movements. His fingers worked the clasps of his armour, the weight of the blackened steel pressing heavily upon his shoulders as he shrugged it off, piece by piece. It was reminiscent of the Queens-guard – the dark-plated armour of those who swore fealty to the Emerald Queen and her rule – yet his was different.
More elaborate. The engraving upon the pauldrons more intricate, the etchings along the breastplate curling into elegant, near-forgotten designs. It marked him as something separate, something beyond a knight.
Something he could not quite name.
For he was a guest.
A ward.
The cool air touched his skin as the final piece fell away, and he inhaled deeply, as if shaking free of something unseen. He rolled his shoulders, the stiffness of battle-weariness still lingering, but beneath it, something else gnawed at him.
A hollowness he could not explain.
The door opened without preamble, and he grinned, thoughts of dreams and not-memories cast far from his mind. There was only one person who would dare to enter the chamber of the Queen's 'Dark Knight' without knocking first.
Rilian leaned back slightly; arms crossed over his chest as he watched her with unveiled amusement. The heavy door thudded shut behind her, the sound echoing in the chamber's stillness.
Sapphyre moved with the same effortless grace she always did, adjusting the folds of her cloak with practiced ease. The deep blue fabric draped over her shoulders like the night sky itself, fastened by a small silver pin at her throat. He had seen that cloak so many times, worn in battle, in court, in the quiet moments when she thought no one was watching.
She did not look at him until she had finished securing it, and when she did, her expression was as familiar to him as the weight of his own sword – exasperation drawn into a perfect scowl.
Rilian's grin only widened.
For in her eyes, there was no hatred.
No matter how sharp her words, no matter how scathing her remarks, that truth remained.
Sapphyre exhaled sharply, a sound just shy of an amused huff as she leaned back, letting the weight of the dark cushions swallow her whole. For all the sombre richness of the chamber, for all the deep-toned silks and carved obsidian, she was the brightest thing within it.
And Rilian watched her unabashedly.
Her copper curls, loose and untamed, cascaded around her shoulders, a rare sight indeed. Usually, they were bound in a tight braid, as severe and disciplined as she was, not a strand out of place. But with her hair spilling freely, with her luminous blue eyes catching the dim light, she looked like her namesake.
A jewel, glowing even in the shadows.
She did not answer him at once, merely let her fingers trail idly over the embroidered edge of a quilt. He could almost see the thoughts shifting behind her gaze, calculating, assessing – always thinking.
"Well?" he prompted, still grinning. "Shall we scandalize the court and take to the lake for a race?"
Sapphyre rolled her eyes, but the edges of her mouth twitched. "As if you would best me in the water."
Rilian chuckled, moving toward the chaise with easy familiarity. "I resent that. I float just fine, little bird."
A name he would never dare to utter in the presence of another, lest she skewer him.
She did not move as he sat beside her, nor did she object when he stretched out beside her, the dark armour he had discarded earlier forgotten in the corner of the room.
"You should be resting, you fought well against the shadow-wolves," she murmured, though her voice lacked true admonishment.
He tilted his head to look at her, a slow smirk tugging at his lips. "And yet here you are. You fought each of your knights twice over and then the creatures."
Sapphyre did not reply immediately, her gaze fixed on the flickering candlelight that cast wavering shadows across the stone walls. She sat with the same quiet poise she always held, though the tension in her shoulders had not yet eased. The battle against the shadow-wolves had left its mark—not in wounds, but in the restless energy that still lingered between them.
Rilian let out a breath, shifting so he was lying fully on his back, one arm draped across his stomach. The absence of his armour made him feel lighter, unburdened, though he did not have the same weight of duties that enshrouded her. "You should rest too."
She finally turned her head toward him, those piercing blue eyes studying him in the dim light. "I do not need as much rest as you do."
A soft chuckle escaped him. "And yet you are here."
He watched as she exhaled slowly, as if weighing her next words. "I do not often have the luxury of quiet moments."
He understood that more than she knew. In Underland, silence was often the prelude to something worse—whispers in the dark, shadows that moved where they shouldn't, the feeling of being watched even in solitude.
He hummed, tilting his head to better look at her. He grinned, more akin to a lad of five and ten than a man of somewhere near six or seven and two-score. He could not help wanting to do things, there was so much around them to explore. Always something to do, and with company such as her, he would never wish to waste that time. In the weeks she was away, he was barely permitted to leave the Castle, it was perhaps why he sought refuge in the fighting pits. "Perhaps we could spar?"
She raised a single brow. "After last time? I do not think your pride could handle another shameful defeat."
And he laughed, the sound rising from deep within him and bubbling out.
One day.
He would beat her one day.
Even if it took another seven years.
She appraised him for a moment – those too bright, too sharp eyes, wide and thickly lashed. She was like a flame; he had decided long ago. Full of fire, so full of a warmth she tried to hide. So bright. But guarded. Always guarded. As if she did not trust him, not entirely. But those moments, those precious moments when she let her guard down made all the patience worth it. For her smile could light up the caverns, as beautiful as a star.
"Do you wish to leave this place?"
He watched her, startled by the question, he watched the way her eyes darted to the side for a moment. Only slightly, as if trying to hide her curiosity. Shewantedto know; she was not asking for anyone but herself.
It was not the Knight Commander asking him.
It was Sapphyre.
"Not entirely, I wouldn't know where to go," he would her answer her honestly. "I remember nothing before the lake. When your sister saved me. There isn't anything wrong with Underland. But I want to see more. I know there's more. Where there's light, and laughter. I want to go where you go, when I don't see you for weeks on end, when I'm forced into your sister's company."
A shadow crossed her face. Something dark and foreboding. And he wished it didn't suit her just as well as a smile did. "Perhaps one day she will let you leave." He guessed the comment was not meant for his ears, for it was muttered beneath her breath. "But not yet." When she looked up at him bright sapphire and indigo met, and her eyes were pained. She did not hide her emotions, not in that instance. "You can't, not yet. But soon."
"Is that a promise, little bird?"
She smiled, softly. "I do not make promises so lightly, for promises should not be broken. But I will try my best."
With a swift, playful lunge, he grabbed Sapphyre, lifting her effortlessly and tossed her over his shoulder. Her eyes widened for the briefest moment before he swung her around, her body landing with a soft thud against the wall – though, as expected, she shifted immediately into a perfect crouch, her movements fluid and precise.
He couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips.
She raised a brow at him, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. But it was fleeting, disappearing in an instant as a knock echoed through the room. Before he could even respond, the door opened, and in swept the Emerald Queen, her presence as commanding as ever.
Rilian stood frozen for a heartbeat, watching as Sapphyre rose to her feet, her smile gone and replaced with that unreadable expression that seemed to permanently sit upon her features when her sister was near.
The queen glided into the room, her presence commanding and regal, her dark auburn locks braided around her head with an air of untouchable authority. The gown she wore shimmered like liquid emeralds, clinging to her figure, as if the very fabric was woven from the Heart's magic. There was no need for a crown atop her head; but both Rilian and Sapphyre stilled.
The Knight Commander was back, no trace of an almost-smile in sight.
"Am I interrupting something?" Emerylda's voice was smooth, cool as ice, as her gaze flicked between them, her lips a perfect curve.
Rilian, still standing with a self-satisfied grin, didn't flinch under her scrutinizing look. He gave a small bow, just enough to show respect. "Not at all, your Majesty."
"I need to meditate," Sapphyre murmured as she took a swift step backwards, her eyes downcast.
The queen's emerald eyes flicked to him first, appraising him with the intensity of a predator sizing up its prey, before they moved to her sister. Her gaze lingered for a moment longer than necessary, a small, unreadable smile playing at her lips.
And the queen was talking, her too-green eyes catching his own, the words meant only for him.
The more she spoke, the heavier his mind became, his thoughts blurring like a fog settling over his clarity. Her voice was like a warm current, pulling him under, drowning out all the rationality he clung to.
He was barely aware of the way his body had shifted, his posture straightening unconsciously, his focus narrowing entirely onto her as he reached for that black armour – nothing else mattered.
He couldn't look away.
"Are you okay, Ril?" Sapphyre's face was so close that he could count the tiny freckles across her nose, her fingers upon his brow as if she had been checking to see if he was running a fever.
"What?" Rilian blinked, his gaze unfocused for a moment. He hadn't been paying attention again, but he didn't feel ill, nor did he feel the usual disorientation that came with such moments. In fact, he felt oddly… calm. But when he tried to recall what they had been talking about, or what had been happening just a moment past, his mind seemed to stretch and fray, like an old tapestry unravelling at the edges.
He turned his head slightly, only to find Sapphyre watching him with an unreadable expression, her brow furrowed with concern. Something about the way her eyes lingered on him sent a strange shiver down his spine, but he couldn't place why.
He could not even recall what they had been talking about. Nor what they had even been doing. A quick glance around told him that perhaps they had been about to spar?
His mind felt jumbled, the fragments of the conversation slipping through his thoughts like sand through his fingers.
For a moment, everything felt... off. A strange fog clouded his thoughts, and as he blinked again, the world seemed to snap back into focus, yet the edges still felt blurry, like something had been tampered with.
They were standing by the weapons rack, but that didn't make sense. He could have sworn they were just in his rooms, talking – at least, that was what he thought they'd been doing. Yet there they were, the metallic scent of sharpened steel filling the air. In Sapphyre's hand, her blade glinted, the naked steel twirling effortlessly between her fingers.
Ah, so she didn't want to train with wooden weapons.
His fingers flexed at his sides, and that was when he felt it—the heavy weight pressing against his shoulders, the cool bite of metal against his skin. His breath hitched slightly as his gaze flicked down.
He was wearing that intricate black armour once more.
His pulse quickened.
Had he not only just been in his rooms?
Speaking with Sapphyre?
And yet there he stood, fully clad in dark metal, the same ornate engravings twisting across his gauntlets and breastplate, the same weight upon his shoulders that always marked him as the Emerald Queen's knight.
He swallowed, pushing down the discomfort curling in his gut.
He fit with Sapphyre's knights far better than he did with the stone-face queensguard.
Rilian exhaled sharply and reached for the clasps at his shoulders. The armour was too heavy for sparring, too restrictive. He could not remember putting it on, but that thought was fleeting now.
Sapphyre stepped closer without a word, her hands already moving to the buckles at his sides, nimble fingers working with practiced ease.
The room felt smaller.
He could feel the warmth of her, so near, the way her breath ghosted against his skin as she leaned in, her copper braid slipping over her shoulder. For a moment, her deep blue eyes flickered up to meet his, and he stilled.
The world had narrowed – her hands at his armour, the whisper of fabric and metal, the quiet space between them.
His throat felt dry. He could have undone the clasps himself, but he did not stop her.
The final piece of his armour fell away with a quiet clink against the stone floor.
"Are you sure you're okay to spar?" she asked, though the words felt more like a challenge than a genuine question.
He never passed up an opportunity to spar with her.
Perhaps that was why the knights gave him so much grief over it – no one could understand why he seemed to crave the challenge of fighting Sapphyre.
He offered her a crooked grin, shaking his head of his confusion, of that strange fog. He'd been having those moments more and more, though perhaps there was something wrong with his mind. He took one of the live blades, for he was sure his own pretty, decorative sword still sat by his bedside. "Whatever you command, little bird."
"Simpleton."
She rolled her eyes as him and perhaps she was trying to stifle a laugh, for the corner of her mouth twitched, even as she turned her back on him in a twirl of cloak. Her copper hair was bound in a braid – near the same way she had done her hair day in and day out for the seven years passed that he had known her.
He watched her movements carefully. Nothing in her outwards demeanour betrayed weariness, save for the dark circles beneath her eyes and the paleness of her normally creamy skin. Where had she been sent this time?
He could not recall, but he knew it had been a number of weeks.
She had been by his side since she and her sister had pulled him from the dark lake that their city looked over. The Sunless Sea, Sapphyre had named it. And even still he dreamt of the creature who had sought to drag him to its darkest depths.
She had saved his life, even when he'd thought himself in love with her sister – though that infatuation had passed quickly, so quickly that he'd questioned if it had even been real. But Sapphyre, she had stayed by his side, if not always her physical presence, for she had taught him many things. And always tested him to ensure it stuck.
She shed her cloak and twirled her blade once more.
Oh, she must have been planning to go easy on him.
"May your blade be as sharp as your mind," she grinned.
So much for going easy on him.