The Lost Kingdom

Chapter 8 - Six Feet Under

Ivory listened to Fox's small outburst with an elegantly raised eyebrow, outwardly pretending as if she thought the whole scene was pathetic. But inside, she could feel Fox's pain and anger, and it felt like a sword had stabbed her. Normally, Ivory blocked out the emotions of others, but today the emotions were too strong too ignore.

Especially Azeria's.

A part of her was proud that Fox was strong enough to stand up against the other Pulcharians, even though she was in so much grief. Cayden's memory wasn't being honored, and no one cared that he had died. Ivory could relate strongly; no one except for Swan had attended Echo's funeral when he died, but instead mocked his memory.

"Would someone shut her up?" The man reading the names of the dead asked, exasperated.

Swan took hesitant steps towards Fox, and muttered something in her ear. "Fine!" She screamed, and stormed out, fire following her out.

An Ellamentian promptly put out the trail of fire. Ivory watched Azeria go, sighing. Another girl to turn bitter and lonely because of rejection from her countrymen.

"Well, that's an embarrassment," Cordelia said, a few feet from Ivory.

"What's an embarrassment is that none of you care that he's gone," Ivory said softly, and retreated from the funeral, tired of death and hatred. Tired of standing in the heat for seven dead Pulcharians who always hated her, who wouldn't stand by her grave. Tired of thinking of the other dead Pulcharian named Cayden, who had helped her up one day in sword training when she was ready to give up. Tired of Echo's memory haunting her, and ultimately tired of being tired.

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Ivory found Azeria at a small hut in the village, curled up on the roof. She was lazily flicking parts of the ground up with small movements of her hand, tears streaming down her face. Slowly, she stopped using her powers, and a huge chunk of earth slammed into the ground.

Stepping over tree roots and plants, Ivory made her way to the hut, and climbed her way up. The black dress she wore tore slightly, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Azeria looked up as Ivory sat next to her.

"Cayden?" Azeria whispered, with a hint of hope.

"I didn't think you were one to believe in ghosts," Ivory said, her voice unusually kind. She didn't know what she was doing- she could be practicing archery or sitting by the ocean. But no, she chose to come here? Being nice?

"What are you doing here, Ivory?" Azeria asked flatly, wiping away a tear.

"Sitting on a roof beside you, obviously," Ivory replied, "Are you alright?"

"It doesn't matter what I am anymore," Azeria spat.

Ivory looked at the canopy of emerald leaves above their heads. "I doubt I would waste my time coming here and asking if it didn't matter."

"Well, you don't matter to anyone either, so aren't we even? You'd never answer me if I was the one asking."

"Well, I knew the first part already. And no, I would not. Because I am a bitter, angry freak whose personal emotions do not concern anyone but myself. You, on the other hand, are a different type of bitter, angry freak. And I saved your life, come to think of it, so just scream to the top of your lungs all of your frustrations."

There was a long pause, in which Ivory considered leaving. Azeria obviously wanted to be left alone, and Ivory didn't want to get too close to anyone. Every time she did, she only got hurt worse than she was before.

Finally, Azeria spoke. "Why do you care?"

Ivory huffed. "Why I care isn't important."

"Fine," Azeria muttered, tucking her knees to her chest. "They all act like Cayden was never important, like he didn't go into battle fig hting like a true hero. They dismiss him as a clumsy, useless boy who no one needed. But he was important! And he's more of a hero than any of them! I needed him, and they all took him from me. Even Swan. They're all heartless and cruel and now I'm starting to think you're the nice one! Isn't that insane?"