Heartless | A Powerless Fanfiction Novella

Chapter 9: Corrine

The incident that happened last night was enough to throw me off track for a whole day. I barely even remember when I finished my duties or if I have actually completed them all without fail. I guess I'll be hearing from Kai if the case is otherwise, but for now no one has approached me shouting in the darkened palace corridors so I'll allow myself to enjoy the quiet evening for a while longer.

Whenever I had tried to focus on a task my mind kept reeling back to him and his intrusion. I suppose not even princes can reel in their curiosity for long enough to remain hidden at least. I don't know how long he had been there, how much he had seen or even worse what he was thinking of me whilst he was watching me. Would he tell anyone?

'I promise.' he said. But do I trust him? Could I bring myself to believe a royal just this once, so that I can act like nothing happened? That place is more than beautifully carved stone to me, it's a refuge for my thoughts to slow and my heart to listen. For two years every few nights I've re-lived the same memory over and over again in that exact spot just so that I could feign the feeling I miss so dearly: that of belonging. Having this one constant in my life is something I will not lose. Kitt will remain silent.

With the trials now closer than ever, the event of the first ball tomorrow will mark the beginning of the games. It will be a chance for the contestants to show their dedication to Ilya and their king - that is what is expected of them at least. A celebration before disaster seems fit, almost as if it was always planned this way in royal humour. Entertain the ones in power, do not mourn the losses that will not be missed.

Walking past the hundreds of rooms bathed in the night it comes as a surprise when I see one at the end of the corridor with a faint light flickering from beneath the shut door. Only a candle lit in what I know is a large space can only mean whoever is inside doesn't want to make themselves known, nor bring so much attention to themselves as to be disturbed. And I have a feeling I know exactly who is in there. A room bathed in fabrics stands behind the engraved hardwood and there is only one person I have heard of to be there so late into the evening: Paedyn's friend, Adena.

I had the opportunity to greet the girl only a day ago, of course at the time not fully aware of who I was speaking to nor succeeding in focusing on the task at hand to escort her to Paedyn's rooms because of my whirling mind trying to comprehend what the Silencer had said, but it was enough for the seamstress to carry out a full conversation with me. She wasn't afraid of me, which is a detail that caught me off guard. Called by her dearest friend just in time to craft a most perfect dress for the ball, Adena did not stop talking about how inseparable she and Paedyn have always been. And from where I stood as they embraced each other with tears in their eyes I knew a bond like theirs wouldn't be easy to shatter especially not by time. Only something far more powerful than a clock chiming forward would succeed in breaking them apart.

As I get closer to the room I slow down at the faint sounds of voices, and one I recognise too well. Kitt is inside talking to her about what I can't clearly distinguish, but the prince isn't known to wander the halls after this time so it must be important or at least worth his personal guard's dismissal. I won't listen, not after what happened last time and the last thing I need right now is for another uncalculated meeting with him.

I don't have time to think much about it when a sound creeps to my attention from my right. There shouldn't be anyone else on this corridor at this time, and certainly not a guard. The white uniform of the man glints in the moonlight seeping softly through the windows, once again the statement of a colour to make ourselves known has a weakness of betraying us too easily. My steps hurry in his direction and as I start to speed up even more I'm starting to realise he begins to match my pace, until we're both in a run. 

The king's men don't run. 

I sprint after him dodging stone pillar after stone pillar and countless decorations and silk curtains to my left and right for every sharp turn, but he doesn't do the same, instead of faltering he runs...right through. A Phaser? Perfect. Two more turns and I take an unexpected one before a corner cutting him off just as he phases through the wall. Our bodies clash and my sword is out before he can speak, pressed flat against his chest in warning to stay down as I stand over him breathing heavily.

"Who are you?"

"Don't say a word and you'll never have to see me again." He says in a low voice so that we don't attract any more attention.

"You're the one against my blade. I should be making the deals."

"Please."

The plea takes me off guard. The sheer size of the man beneath me is nothing compared to the heaviness of the look he is giving me right now - he doesn't want to fight. A strand of black hair covers a pair of dark eyes swimming with a hint of something familiar: fear. I lose my grip on him and when I take note of the fact he bears no weapons I allow him to stand up, letting him tower over me. Looking twice at his uniform one of the first things I notice is the stitching: clean. An odd observation considering that I have never seen stitching as neat as these especially not on official uniforms ironically.

"You're posing as a guard."

"I was, I am no longer, I just want to leave."

I don't sheath my sword and instead play with its weight in my right hand, following his eyes as they watch the freshly-sharpened metal dance in my grip, "Why?"

"There was someone I wanted to visit."

"Who?"

He looks behind us looking for anyone near before returning to me with a shake of his head, "I can't say."

"I need answers, or you're not leaving this whole unfortunately. Rules are rules."

"But do you... play by the rules?"

"What makes you think I don't?"

"Because I would be dead already."

Ah, that little mistake.

I sigh, there is no one to witness my failure so why not finish it, "Give me your name and I may let this one go. But know the price is I will always be able to find you."

The man considers me for a moment before saying, "Makoto."

I sheathe my sword.

"Very well then."

With no other words exchanged between me and the intruder, Makoto nods once backing away towards the staircase. Strangely though, I can almost swear lights flicker in his absence, only I never touched my power. But something triggered its feel around me.

Or someone.

Makoto is now long gone. Maybe some secrets should remain locked away. After all, another Wielder apart from the Enforcer is a death sentence signed, and I just pardoned him not once, but twice. I know very well my mercy will end with me joining my failures, and I accept that.