Punishment

Jistan shuffled from foot to foot, watching the group before him with great trepidation. The tension in the air was palpable, as if it could form into a mind strike. Four figures stood facing a tall woman with violent purple eyes. The Highness stared down at them from a podium coldly. Jistan stood back a few paces, uncertain what his place was in this situation.

And also Lanae was standing back here, so someone should keep her company. Not that she seemed to notice.

“You dare to protect the enemy?” Highness Arellia spoke coolly.

“She is not the enemy,” Sackrin replied calmly. “If it were not for her, we never would have escaped Kritose.”

“I have heard your story, Scythe,” Arellia said. She stood so stiffly she could have been made of stone. “But it was not my command that sent you on that mission. It was not a sanctioned activity, so the Delani’s actions have no impact on her punishment.”

“That’s stupid.”

Jistan winced, glancing at Joree. He stood to the far right, beside his mother. He walked with a cane and was still rather thin, but he looked far better than he had when they’d found him in Kritose. Still, he was in no shape to be insulting the most powerful person in Manicot. Maybe the world.

“Stupidity is to collude with a known enemy in the middle of a war.” Arellia didn’t sound offended. Somehow, her icy exterior made her seem even more intimidating.

“Her being a Delani doesn’t automatically make her the enemy,” Joree snapped. “I’m pretty sure she was a slave…wherever she used to live.”

“She has dangerous powers,” Arellia said.

Joree snorted. “Right. And Will power is tame.”

“Will power doesn’t set things on fire or blow holes in steel armor.”

“No,” Joree agreed, “it just tears straight into your enemy’s head and shreds their brain.”

Arellia actually pursed her lips together, eyes narrowing fractionally. “Watch yourself, young man.”

Karin cut in before Joree could reply. “Highness, we only ask that you show mercy. This Delani has saved all of our lives. Surely she should not be rewarded with execution?”

Jistan’s hand twitched towards his sword at the word. He managed to hold still though. Lanae, on the other hand, actually perked up, her posture straightening and eyes fixing onto Arellia’s face. That was an uncommonly strong reaction from the slender girl.

“It has nothing to do with reward or punishment. It is merely keeping order and ensuring safety.”

“Glad you were worried about ensuring safety when you abandoned us all to the Kriton,” Joree spat, hand clenching against the handle of his cane.

Arellia’s face didn’t change, but her eyes seemed to flash with darkness. The purple deepened and intensified, like a gathering storm.

“I think you do not understand your place,” she said, voice dangerously low. “You are a citizen. You obey without question. That is your only role.”

“I will do my part as soon as you start doing yours!” Joree was practically shouting. “Your job was to protect us! You didn’t even protect your own daughter!”

Arellia didn’t answer for a long, long moment. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath. Narissa had placed a hand on Joree’s shoulder as if trying to calm him.

“I have a responsibility to this entire nation, citizen,” she finally said. “I cannot devote my attention to saving a few citizens.”

“So much for your power, then,” Joree said bitterly.

Her eyes narrowed noticeably this time. “Perhaps you would like to test that power?”

He snorted. “Go ahead and try.”

She waved a hand at him. “I have heard of your odd ability to block mind strikes. But you have never encountered a particularly powerful enemy. You have never dealt with me.”

“I’m eager for the experience,” Joree said flatly.

For an excruciating amount of time, absolutely nothing happened. Arellia stared at Joree, who stood without even shifting. Everyone watched in silence. Slowly, Arellia’s expression changed from calm and cold to concentrating. Then…frustrated.

A memory came into Jistan’s mind. It seemed as though it came from a different life. Jistan stood in an arena, facing down a golden haired man. A powerful mind strike, one that had somehow exploded within his own mind rather than striking Joree.

“Stop!” Jistan shouted, suddenly frantic.

Arellia’s eyes snapped towards him. Slowly, her expression cooled and she straightened her posture.

“Sackrin, escort the citizens out. This is not a conference for civilians.”

Sackrin bowed slightly before quickly taking Narissa and Joree each by the shoulder and guiding them towards the door. Joree grabbed Lanae’s wrist as he walked past, pulling her after him. Jistan expected Arellia to protest, but she didn’t even blink. Sackrin gently pushed the three out and then closed the door behind them.

***

Aniah woke up covered in sweat. When she pushed off her thick quilt, the air in her room was crisp, immediately chilling her soaked body. She shivered, scrambling out of bed and shouting for someone to get her a bath ready. Moments later, a palace servant poked her head into Aniah’s room.

“There is a bath prepared already, Areniah.”

“Fine,” Aniah said curtly. “Is it still hot?”

“It is set over a heater to keep warm.”

“Good.”

Minutes later, Aniah was soaking in warm, bubbly water. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, trying to calm her nerves. She was finally home, in a building full of people who would sooner die for her than kill her, surrounded by luxury and civilization. Everything was finally alright again.

So why was she still panicking inside? Her dreams were just that-dreams. They didn’t mean anything. Except that she had a more active imagination than she’d ever known.

A knock came at her door. Moaning softly, she lifted her head and peered towards the interruption.

“What?” she snapped.

“Fiedon Furl has requested to speak with you, heir,” a firm voice called from outside. Aniah sighed. At least it was Furl. The rest of the Fiedons were insufferable.

After getting dressed, she let a Scythe guide her to one of Furl’s many rooms. He had one for reading, one for meditating, one for exercising, etc. She was led into what she thought was his eating chamber.

Iniside, the Fiedon sat at a circular table, sipping a glass of iced water and staring absentmindedly into the air. His eyes focused and he smiled as she entered.

“Child,” he said warmly, standing and moving to take both of her hands. “It is so good to have you back.”

She smiled back wanly. “Do you think the Highness will keep me this time?”

Furl chuckled. “Maybe you should try not to antagonize her so.”

She snorted. “As if. Arellia is about as flappable as a rock. I would sooner be able to antagonize the sunlight.”

“Perhaps.” Furl’s expression was somehow both amused and sad. “But I didn’t bring you here to discuss your mother’s…disposition.”

“Good. I would hate to say anything that could be construed as disrespectful.”

He gave her a suffering look. “I see your time in Kritose did nothing to curb your tongue.”

She rolled her eyes. “That bunch of lunatics? If anything, I had to be more forceful. They were practically savages.”

Furl opened his mouth, paused, then just shook his head. “Never mind. Why don’t we sit?”

She followed him to the table. Once seated, she asked, “So, why am I here? I assume it isn’t to applaud my brilliant performance in tracking down the escapees.”

He laughed softly. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about your friend.”

Her eyebrow shot up. “Friend?”

“The one who can’t be hurt by Will. Joree.”

“He’s not my friend,” she said automatically.

“Very well. But you still spent a good amount of time with him. I was wondering, did he ever do anything…strange?”

“Just about every time he spoke,” she replied, idly picking at the fake flowers set in the center of the table.

“Let me rephrase. Did he do anything that seemed impossible?”

For some reason, Aniah felt herself grow tense. That question felt like a trap, somehow. Not a trap for her, but for Joree.

“What do you mean?” she asked slowly.

“Does he have any strange…abilities?”

“Well,” she replied carefully. “He can’t be hurt by Will. That’s pretty strange.”

“Yes, yes,” Furl said, leaning forward. “But can he do anything?”

Aniah’s mouth felt dry. She licked her lips. Joree could do…something. She wasn’t sure what it was. But it seemed a lot like what a Delani could do, and revealing that seemed like it could spell danger for Joree.

Did she care? Giving this information could ingratiate her with the Highness. Maybe Aniah would be allowed to join her mother in important conferences and live in the palace.

“Aniah?” Furl prodded.

She took a deep breath.

***

Joree had avoided looking at himself since returning from Kritose. Every time he looked down at his arms or legs and saw the burns and cuts, his stomach heaved and he felt like he might retch. He didn’t want to know what would happen if he caught a look of himself in a mirror.

He ended up finding out anyway. It was unavoidable. None of his clothing fit him anymore, so his mom insisted they go into Ranteel to shop for some things he could wear until he regained some weight.

Joree walked through several isles of clothing, but could find nothing that was thin enough not to fall off his waist but still long enough for his height. He caught something glinting out of the corner of his eyes and turned.

He flinched back, putting hands up protectively, heartbeat accelerating and mind spinning. It was the monster, here, come to get him-

He froze, then let his hands drop to his sides. The person mimicked his motions.

It’s me, he realized, dazed. He was looking into a mirror. For a brief second, he had thought he was looking at the creature from Kritose that had so often led his torture sessions. Since Joree had lost so much weight, his starved figure could be mistaken, upon a brief glance, for the monster’s slender, tall form. They had similar hair too, golden and slightly wavy. And when he looked into his own eyes, he saw the same eyes as that creature. He found he couldn’t look away.

A hand fell on his arm. “Joree?”

He snapped his head to the side. His mom looked up at him with concern.

“Why do I look like him?” Joree whispered.

“Who?” Narissa asked, frowning.

“The man who took me to Kritose,” he said, even softer.

Narissa hesitated, then grimaced. “You…don’t.”

“Yes I do,” he insisted, voice coming out almost pleading. “Mom, what’s going on?”

She opened her mouth, uncertainty written across her face.

At that moment, the doors to the shop swung open, letting in a group of heavily armed men and women. They were led by the Highness’s guard-attendant person. Furl, was it?

“Joree and Narissa,” Furl called.

Joree stepped towards the man. “What?” he asked, voice coming out strangely hoarse. Furl met his eyes.

“You are both under arrest for collusion with the enemy.”