Broken But Unburnt

Chapter 22 - Gisella

Chapter 22: Gisella

Palace of the Centauri Throne: Kingdom of Karil

Her new spies had asked no further questions about where she was going. She appreciated that. It was a valuable insight into their personalities and their motivations. They weren't here to collect information about her to sell to the highest bidder at a later date. They were here to take her orders and do their jobs. Perhaps these peasant siblings would become much better spies than she anticipated.

Stopping in her room just long enough to gather her cloak and strap a few more knives to her person than she would otherwise carry, Gisella tossed her hood over her head so that her features were obscured and headed out of the palace into the city beyond. Feasts other than the one she had just attended were taking place scattered throughout the city. Long gathering halls were open to the public, aromas of freshly baked bread and free-flowing ale wafting from every open door she passed. Men stumbled about in the streets, already drunk and raising their glasses to hail a new king. Women banded together in giggling groups of the young and stoic conversations of the old. Gisella heard a comment or two about how dreamy the new king was along her way and nearly retched from the thought of it.

She had to venture all the way to the east side of the city where the lights faded to darkness and no one was celebrating anything other than pure debauchery for debauchery's sake. Prostitutes called to her from upper windows, unbothered by Gisella's disinterest and determined to make a coin or two regardless. Men in dark cloaks and low hats passed her with hands in their pockets and didn't look her way once. This was the part of the city where no one wanted to be seen, the part of the city where you could hide something and no one would ever look. Or someone.

Keeland's place was the brightest on the block. It always was. Having never missed an opportunity to display his opulence, Keeland would be celebrating with the rest of the city tonight. Though his parties always looked vastly different from the peasant revelries or noble festivities. Gisella was reminded of that fact the moment she entered to see a half naked man strolling around the masked patrons, handing out treats laced with substances that Gisella wouldn't even want to guess. That was another thing about Keeland's parties. Anyone was welcome but they all had to wear a mask. Whether the rule was intended to maintain secrecy or to create an aura of mystery, Gisella wasn't sure. But it was always heavily enforced with everyone but her. And the man himself.

She found Keeland sitting on his favorite leather sofa, surrounded by scantily clad women who giggled and cozied up next to the overweight, middle-aged man. It turned her stomach to see these girls placed in this position but her own had always been far too precarious to say anything and Keeland was not the sort of man whom one wished to make an enemy of.

"Gis!" he exclaimed with a broad grin as she entered. "To what do I owe the pleasure? Have you come to celebrate the new king as well? One would have thought you might have done that with the man himself. But you're welcome here, of course, always. May I offer you some wine? Perhaps ale is more to your taste. Or maybe–"

"Information, Keeland," Gisella interrupted. Normally, she would have let him drone on for longer. The man liked to hear himself talk. That was part of what made him such a good informant. But she wasn't in the mood for it this evening and the matter was too pressing to be set aside for pleasantries sake.

Keeland stood, shooing the girls away, and gestured toward a door across the room.

"My office," he explained unnecessarily, the excessive gold rings on his fingers glittering in the flickering candlelight. She gave a curt nod and followed after him.

She hated coming here. She hated being reminded of the way this man was living while the eastern side of the city was falling apart around him. He could make a difference if he wanted to. Trading away just one of those gold rings would be enough to keep one of the working women away from the trade for the rest of her life. If she so chose. Some of them, Gisella knew, enjoyed the trade.

"My information, as you know, comes at a cost," Keeland reminded her, spreading his hands wide and giving her a toothy grin as they entered his office and one of his men closed the door behind them. Gisella repressed the urge to roll her eyes and pulled a coin purse from her pocket, tossing it onto the desk with a thunk. He lifted it, weighing it in his hands before opening it slightly and peering inside. Finally, he spoke again. "Very well. What is it you wish to know?"

"The Chaos," Gisella said. "Tell me everything you know about him."

"And what would make you think I know anything about him at all?" Keeland asked, feigning offense. "I'm a good Karilish citizen, little Gis. I don't make a habit of interacting with my country's sworn enemy."

Gisella raised a brow in disbelief.

"Oh, very well," he gave in easily, tossing the bag of coins in the air and catching it with a grin. "Your king thinks it's a religious order. Fanatics devoted to a cause of genocidal violence against our people. And for some people, it is. But for the Chaos, it's more than that. See, your precious King Maurin and that lapdog General of his made it all too easy for someone to create a movement against them. Their hatred, I mean jealousy, of us enchanters have led to nothing but hatred in return. The things they've done to our people in the name of purification, in the name of oppression, have created an opening that someone was bound to fill. This Chaos has."

"So it is a religious movement."

"On the surface, yes. They call themselves The Allegiant and he leads them on a path he claims is for fairness and equality, a peace between the gifted and those without designed to end discrimination against those gifted with magic. But what he really wants is power. For himself, for his people. It really is so unoriginal it borders on boring. He wants to rise above those who have brought him so low. Your King is worried about the movement, that Chaos. But this boy in Idoria who stands at King Jareth's side and whispers in his ear. This boy who leads the strongest army that the world has ever seen, has united enchanters in a way no one ever has, he is the Chaos, the Destroyer, the Storm. I've heard many names for him. His power is great and he wields it in an effort to bring magic back to the surface."

Gisella frowned. She couldn't say that she necessarily found fault with his plan, or at least his reasoning, but wondered if there were any way to accomplish it without violence. She was an enchanter herself, a fact that she was reminded of every time King Maurin made a move against her people. And if they came for Karil, if these Makana and this man calling himself the Chaos came to her door and forced her to choose between the life she'd always had and the one she could have, she wasn't entirely certain what she would pick. And that scared her more than anything.

"Those of us left with the gift are weak, we have only a flicker of the power that once was," Keeland continued, his eyes shining with rebellion as his voice lowered to a whisper. He held out his palm and little flames bloomed and danced in the air between them. "He has a flame and he wants to watch the world burn, consumed by it."

"Why haven't I heard of this?" she asked, perplexed.

"You're quite removed from the enchanter circles we used to run in together now, aren't you?" Keeland inquired with a smile. He wasn't upset, wasn't scolding her in any way. This was an argument that they had already had far too many times without ever being able to agree on an outcome. They saw these things differently. Keeland believed he supported their cause more by staying in this rancid hellhole, helping smuggle terrified enchanters out of the country now and then. Gisella felt she was making more of a difference at the king's side, working to slowly change the hearts and minds of the ones in charge. Maybe someday she would finally manage.

"I should go," Gisella spoke suddenly, turning toward the door. The hand that Keeland placed on her arm to stop her was nearly scalding from the flames he had created with it.

"Do not worry too much, dear Gisella," he said, almost kindly. "The universe will always find its balance. If he is the Chaos, then soon will come the Peace."