The Ruler's Rift

Her Weight in Gold

"It's this way," Nova said, voice shaking.

"Could this really not wait until later?" Amber asked with a yawn. Morning light barely awoke, shimmering through the windows. The pair marched down the corridor of safes - this hallway rested deep in the lower bowels of the palace.

"Of course not!" Nova snapped.

"Just saying, a missing thief doesn't seem like the end of the universe." Amber slipped her hands into her pockets.

Nova snickered, her tail flicking as she led the way. "Honey, I know you've got the battles later but try to think of someone other than yourself, okay?" She sneered.

"Why do you think I'm here?"

Finally, they stopped at a safe. Nova explained that none of the guards could find a trace of the thief and that Amber was the next best thing to investigate. The advisor wondered if the fox knew the definition of assassin, and she insisted she wasn't a detective before caving. Nova shook with fear, and despite her unsavory attitude she didn't deserve to live in terror. Celeste wouldn't appreciate royal funds being taken, either, so Amber resolved to do this for her niece.

Amber popped open the safe and stepped partway through the door. Immediately, she noticed the orderly stacks of coins were disrupted in several spots. Brow furrowed, she stepped farther into the tight space to investigate.

"Agh!" Amber yelped. Hands smashed into her back. She rocketed forward. She fell into the small safe. The door slammed shut.

The assassin spun to her feet and banged on the airtight door. "Hey!" She screamed, the sound of paw steps fading away as the fox made her escape. "Let me out of here!" She beat the door several more times before cold reality sunk in.

These safes were never meant for money. That was their lesser purpose. Their tiny size, their airtight doors - they were made to be Amber's coffin.

Sipping air rather than gulping it, she scanned the inside of the safe. At all sides were stacks of coins. They hugged the assassin but she had a bit of moveable space. With the size of the room, she wouldn't have much air.

Only twenty percent of that air was oxygen.

Before long, Amber would choke on her own breath. No windows, no doors but the one before her - the assassin found herself struggling to relax.

She could yell, and perhaps a guard would hear her - that is, if one happened to walk by during their rounds. But if she shouted, she'd use up her air quicker. "What do I do?" she rasped to herself. "Nova, you fucking bitch..."

The fox had expertly planned Amber's demise. Immortality granted the assassin with eternal youth, no need for food, water, or sleep. However, only Sages could survive without oxygen.

Sages and one other thing. Amber almost laughed at the irony. If she were the one who could transform into the Asqura, then she would survive. Maybe she shouldn't have dismissed Celeste's plan so soon.

Brown eyes darted about, searching for an exit. Gold piled up around Amber, further narrowing the already small space. Above was a dim light, glowing from a crystal behind a grate. Amber couldn't reach it, but perhaps she could break it.

After deliberation, the assassin decided. She hurled gold coins up to the grate, hoping to knock it free of its screws. All the while, she shouted and screamed for anyone who may hear. "I'm stuck! I'm stuck! Help!" Was all she bellowed, wasting no breath on pointless syllables.

Coins impacted the grate like bullets. It took time, but each one wore down the screws little by little, just the same as Amber's oxygen supply. Nova had awakened the assassin early, and she hadn't the time to equip her weapons. Without tools, this was her greatest hope and she wouldn't give up.

She had to live - Celeste needed her, and so did her future. Someday, she wanted to give Jewel another chance even if it meant doing so through a different child. A pipedream? That's what she told Celeste but it couldn't be further from the truth. Even as Amber collapsed, coins sprinkling the floor, she dreamed of having another baby and righting her wrongs.

No one came. Amber's screams fell into oblivion. She panted, her lungs gulping desperately despite her efforts. As carbon dioxide built up in her blood, the pressure of holding her breath closed in. No matter how she gasped, she may as well have been under water. Fallen, back against a gold stack, she looked up at the dangling grate. With only one screw remaining, it taunted the dying assassin.

Time evaded Amber, but she knew it had been an hour at least. Shaking, she took a dented coin from the floor and raised her arm, trembling to adjust her aim. She threw it. It clanked against the grate but missed the screw entirely. Again. Again. Amber kept up the weak barrage, her lungs morphing to take quick, sharp breaths. Though less deep, their speed evened the exchange.

A loud clang heralded hope as the grate finally descended. It hit the floor with a most unpleasant ringing. Groaning, muscles aching with little oxygen to fuel them, Amber crawled to the grate. It had only covered a flickering, dull light. There was no entrance to a tunnel, no opening to escape. About the size of a dinner plate but thinner, the grate would serve as the perfect and only crowbar.

"Hang in there, Celeste...I'm coming..." Amber whispered, choking on her own breath as she shakily stood. She stumbled into the sealed door and jammed the thin grate between it and the wall. Amber had defeated death twice - no feeble safe would contain her.

She threw all her weight into the makeshift tool. Growls and strains rippled through her, her blood scrambling for air. She grit her teeth. Her vocal chords produced disgusting groans of effort. Soon, her heart seized faster, panicking to send air to her body but there was none to be had. It bulged and pulsated for naught. But she would bear however many heart attacks necessary to break free.

The door didn't budge. The grate bent. It flung out of place and hit the floor, crumpled and useless.

Amber saw it and hope bled out. She'd begun shaking, and a horrific sleepiness threatened her. "No..." She rasped. For hours she struggled to fight and to breathe, but her effort spat in her face.

"Please, sister. You're already late," a cold voice rasped. "You've been strong for so long."

Amber turned around, vision blurry. Her knees shook and her eyelids were heavy. Drunk on her own breath, aching from poisoned blood, she still managed to make out a familiar figure. "You won't take me," Amber groaned. "I'm not finished yet."

Violet, pure white and ethereal, stepped closer. "It doesn't have to be a bad thing," she said. Her forehead was split open, and just above the wound glistened a sword-shaped cross made of light.

"I won't leave Celeste...and..."

"Give it up. You know you'll never have another child again."

"I'll find a way out..." Amber fell back. Her spine crashed into gold and sent a bolt of pain through her raw nerves. She gasped, straining to drink up any oxygen left. With her back once more leaning against worthless riches, she watched the vision of her sister waver.

"I am death and you are survival," Violet whispered. "Yet just as I ceased to be death, you will cease to be eternal."

Amber fought her strengthening tremors. She stammered, "no...you're wrong..." But before Violet could argue, she had faded away. Amber prayed for visions of her father, her mother, her daughter - but none came. She waited for perhaps another hour as she lay dying, but none came.

Surrounding her were not her family, but the ghosts of her battles, the phantom breaths she'd taken struggling to live, and the apathetic flickering of light. Total quiet. The metallic scent of avarice. She would perish as she'd lived - all alone.

Amber shut her eyes. She smiled thinking of Celeste.