Second Best

Chapter Nine

"What do I do Obita? I just don't know anymore," she hung her head in her hands, feeling her body slump with the kind of exhaustion that irradiated from the heart. "Heck I don't even know if I can trust you!"

Obita placed a hand on her back, patted her briefly and then withdrew his hand. She heard him walk away, getting slightly mad at him for leaving her there after his too-brief show of support. But after a moment she heard his footsteps get louder again as he returned.

"I wasn't going to show you this for a bit longer, but now is as good a time as any," with this he pulled her hands away from her face and she had to quickly compose her tear-streaked features. If only gravity didn't work on her nose after a crying jag. But the world was cruel.

She blinked a few times, while Obita looked the other way respectfully. The guards less so, but that wasn't their job.

"So what did you want to show me?" she asked him, hoping she didn't look too terrible.

"Follow me," Obita told her, waddling off into the shadows and expecting her to follow.

"You know I hate it when you go all enigmatic on me," she sighed, shook her head and set off after him anyway, knowing the guards Eric had assigned her wouldn't be far behind.

Speaking of, she still needed to go and see him. Later. It could wait. Whatever Obita thought was so important meant that it should be important to her as well, which was why she was dutifully following him instead of demanding that he tell her what was going on.

The narrow corridor he was leading her down gradually got darker and darker until the only illumination was from Obita's lamp. Not long after that she was forced to walk behind him as the corridor narrowed yet again, the guards armour scraping along the walls due to their overly broad chests.

Just when Elsa thought the corridor could get no narrower, it started to open out again. She scurried forward to walk beside Obita again, not wanting to admit that she was in fact, terrified of the shadows. Obita's lack of fear was refreshing, but somehow was raising her own fear when she was normally so cynical about the Librarian's odd little fear.

Suddenly Obita stopped walking and she nearly slammed into the back of him, barely managing to stop herself in time. There was a door before them, four bolts holding it shut that Obita was bending over now to unlock.

Elsa was curious as to what was behind the door. What secrets could Obita still be hiding from her?

The door opened with a click.

The smell was like what Elsa imagined a sewer would smell like wafted out to colour the air a muddy brown. After coughing a few times to adjust her lungs to the new smells bombarding her sensitive olfactory nerves, she blinked at the light pouring in from the opened door.

There was a fire in the centre of the room, burning calmly but brightly as a small, thin boy crouched near it with his hands held out toward the warm flames. He looked up at the commotion in the doorway, but didn't seem unduly frightened at the strangers he saw there.

"Come in," he calmly told them, waving generously toward the ragged cushions set up in a circle around the fire. Clearly he'd been expecting guests. Just who was this kid?

Elsa stepped inside the room behind Obita, gesturing to the guards to wait for them outside.

"I'm Queen Elsa," she spoke softly, not wanting to scare him, plus she felt the darkened environment with the flickering flames called for a softer tone.

"Yes, I know who you are," he replied, not taking his eyes of the fire.

Elsa faltered. What was she to do now? She was truly out of her depth. Give her scared advisors any day over this self assured young kid!

Thankfully Obita took over. "Edward, Queen Elsa is an ice mage. Would you like to tell her your secret?" Obita asked kindly. What secret? What had Obita been hiding from her? Why did he know this boy when she did not? She was Queen, she was supposed to know everything! Or at least more than those under her rule knew.

She knew politics didn't work that way, but come on. This was the man she most trusted in the entire castle!

"I'm a fire mage," the boy - Edward - turned to look at her gravely for a moment before turning back to his fire.

Elsa crouched down beside him. "Are you controlling that fire, Edward?" she asked him quietly. Being a fire mage, she didn't want to make him angry. God knows what he might do if he got out of control. Lord knows what she'd do if he got out of control.

Elsa! You're an ice mage, honestly! She told herself. It was small reassurance, but it was enough to slow the racing of her heart.

"Yes," was all the small boy said.

As she watched the flames grew higher under the control of his steady hands, then died down to the peaceful flickering flames she had first seen when she entered the dank room.

"Would you like to be welcomed to my court, have nice rooms in the castle?" she asked him, not out of kindness toward him, but because she saw this as an advantage to her problem. Somehow, though their magics were conpletely different, he might be able to help her solve the problem of her disappeared magical abilities. It sounded cruel, but royalty often had to be cruel to be kind, to achieve what it wanted for the good of its kingdom. That was all Elsa was doing in that moment.

"No thank you, Your Highness. I like it down here. The shadows make pretty shapes on the walls."

Elsa had indeed noticed that, but she wouldn't have called them pretty. Instead, she would have termed them terrifying, horrifying, nightmarish, any negative word she could think of was a better descriptor than pretty. But he was a fire mage, so naturally things would be different for him.

"You could always come down here anytime you like to see the shadows, but you'd be far more comfortable up in the light with actual people," she argued her point, hoping he'd just concede because she didn't have the energy for much more of an argument.

"Why would I want to see people?" Edward asked her, appearing genuinely confused.

"Well, I can keep you away from people if you want...?" She told him, a clear question in her voice.

He cocked his head to the side. He paused for a moment as if thinking and Elsa waited patiently. Then the small boy shook his head, turning back to his fire as if the decision was final. Conversation over, you have been dismissed, was the unspoken communication she was receiving from his hunched posture as he bent over the fire he clearly loved to tend.

Elsa turned to Obita wondering what to do now. He just shook his head sadly and gestured to the door. They headed out into the tunnel together, leaving the small fire mage to his fire, and his smelly dominion with his ragged cushions set up for people who didn't exist.