The Princess and the Blood of Eternity

Chapter 23: An Understanding

Cleo waited for the end that never came. At first, he thought his mind was playing tricks on him. Death was the unknown ocean that all would someday sail. He hadn't a clue if the waters would be tepid and navigable, or maliciously aggressive. Would they explain the great unknown, or would the questions no longer matter without mind or form?

A barrage of shouting dragged Cleo from his thoughts. Real voices. He wasn't dead yet. Anticipation and shock had left him numb to his surroundings. The weight on his back shifted. The guard had turned to face another direction. More shouting. Warm liquid splattered across Cleo's cheek. The weight on his back disappeared, and then the ropes were cut.

"Stand up, son," said a booming male voice.

Cleo pushed himself up, feeling a pair of legs slide off his back. The guard that'd held him down a moment ago lay on the grass next to him. His eyes glazed over, his body had gone limp. There was a bloody circular wound in the center of his chest, next to the golden anchor stitched on the front of the blue uniform.

The other guard had crumbled where he'd stood. His hands still held the crescent axe, and now there was a bloody gash across a neatly ripped out throat. Cleo didn't know which guard's blood had gotten on him. The sword thrusts had been efficient and deadly. The violence made him feel nauseated, which proved to be of comfort.

He turned to see Boulder standing with his knees bent, and a rapier stabbed into the ground to help support his weight. The old man looked like he was ready to collapse. Sweat slid off his nose even though the air was cool. He favored his broken shoulder and winced from breathing. It was a miracle he was even on his feet.

"Thank you," Cleo said. "If you hadn't arrived, I... thank you." He looked down at the bodies again. "Why? Even if your aim was to repay me for saving Lilith and bringing you three back to Mont Qerath... this was wrong."

"I know," Boulder said, wincing. He stumbled and collapsed to his knees. "I didn't do it for you. Well, that's not entirely true, but I need you to do something for me." He then nudged his sword toward Cleo. The steel gleamed in the light. Part of its length was now coated in blood from the guards. "Take my sword. There's a path behind those bushes. You'll find some stairs carved into the cliff. Be careful, one slip and you'll fall. Follow it down, and you'll find a dock between the cliffs."

Cleo eyed the bushes. They sat along the edge of the garden terrace. "I don't understand," he said.

The old soldier grimaced with his eyes closed. "They've taken Lilith. You must stop them before they carry her away."

Cleo listened to the words. They processed as though he had to read each letter of the sentence inside his mind. Then something clicked inside of him. Lilith.

The sensations he'd been ignoring in the back of his head. The significance had become clear. Boulder's interference in his execution, and being brought before the Matriarch, none of it made sense, and yet it didn't matter. He felt jittery, ready to explode. Containing the storm inside him was difficult. He reached down and picked up Boulder's sword.

"I'll see her safe, or die trying," Cleo said. The claim sounded ridiculous and foreign to his own ears. Even Boulder looked startled by what he saw on his face, but Cleo's focus was already elsewhere. He took off running for the hidden stairwell and never looked back.