In Dreams I Lie

Chapter Fourteen: Maps of Bladed Crowns

Why hello! I'm back! Sorry, finals were murder. But anyway, you all can revel in the fact that I will now be updating on a more regular basis.

Sound evaporates from the camp as I land in the center of the mismatched, sloppily made tents. Children stop running, men and woman alike set down pots, pans, swords, and bows. It is like the entire world grinds to a halt at my arrival. Nobody speaks, the only movement comes from dogs running through the masses of still bodies. At a central table, the boy and his sister sit together, heads bent over what might be maps or seeing stones, imported from the west. As the quiet falls and the sound disappears, they turn to stare at me. The boy in the glowing, silver armor stands, but his sister pulls him down again by his linen sleeve. Light wind pushes back my hair, sending shivers over my bare arms. My wings do not feel the unpleasantness of the air through their thick coat of feathers, they only itch to be used.

As I approach they kneel, first the boy, then the girl, then the rest, all keeping heads bent, not daring or hoping enough to look me in the eyes.

"Princess." He murmures.

The rest join in, fervent whispers building until there is no way to hear the wind.

"Please." He continues. "Please help us."

The desperation of his words carries through to his voice. Again, the vultures of his words swim fly about again, each of the people in the camp copying his speech.

"Tell me one thing." I answer. "It was Sansori who killed Koen." I don't phrase it as a question but as a statement that lies at the end of my tongue, heavy with defeat. Each syllable leaves a more bitter taste in my mouth. Never did I think that such a phrase would ever come into this world, framing my sister as a murder. I always thought that the murder was me. But Cadren's body flashes through my mind, limbs splayed and smashed against the cobblestones. Brought down by the weight of her magic......brought down by the weight of Sansori's push more like.

The boy in the white armor nods. "Yes. Arcadiel, I'm sorry, he fought hard to-"

I hold up my hand cutting through his words like Sansori's blade through my ribs. "And she lives?" Although I do not know how I know this, the syllables tastes like ash enough for truth to ring through.

He nods again, but doesn't speak.

"Do you fight for or against her?"

The girl dressed in gold scoffs. "If we were for her, you'd be fighting your way back out of the land of the dead for a second time."

"Then I'll join you."

At my proclamation the cheering erupts, like lightning and wild fire. Even the dogs that scurry finding scraps lift their heads to bark.

"But I don't fight with you to free the people, or mend the damage my sister has inflicted. You are to get me close enough to my sister for me to end her life. That is all I will do."

The boy stands and offers his palms to me, the sign of a solemn promise. "We'll do it."

_______________________

They give me a tent to myself. Looking at the state of those living in the camp, It would apeaar that I'm luckier than most. I offered to share, to go live back in the cave with my sister, but the people were so insistent. A crest of tarnished silver peaks its head from the side of the canvas, alerting me to the fact that this item was manufactured in the West. The fabric is rough and cool beneath the tips of my fingers. A part of me wonders what will be waiting for me when I step inside its depths, the other part of my only longs to go back to the simplicity of what I had before. Or what I thought I had. I've started to notice that nothing shocks me like it should. My death, Cadren's, it is like I always knew. Or maye it is simply that after Sansori's betrayal I do not trust this world.

I step in, and my feet clink on a sandstone walkway. But the gorund is only a thin strip that leads to the center of what is a much larger room. Stone pedestals rise off the ground, except it isn't ground. The floor of the tent is bathed in a swath of blue whater, shining dully from skylights that do not reflect the cloudy state of the outside forest.

I bend, swirling my hand through the pool. The water is silky with minerals, thick and coating to my hand as I draw it away.

"I see you have discovered our seeing pool, Princess."

The voice that calls to me is airy, filled with the lightness of a child but weighed down with a depth of sorrow and weariness. I look where I hear it, wiping the damp from my hand to the gossamer of my tattered skirts. By the bed on the central platform stands a girl, hands crossed in a tight line in front of her. Like all those I've seen at the camp, her bones jut out from their tight covering of skin. She is cleaner than the others, and unlike most women, she does not wear a tunic and leggings or carry a weapon like she must be ready for battle at all times.

"A seeking pool." I say. "I had heard the peoples of the west could create such items."

"We are all one people since the dark queen took the lands, Princess." Sadness fills my mind as I think about the how much pride each Kingdom put into their heritage and traditions. Sansori. She is the cause of all this. Hatred is less of a slow, steady burn of malignant though, and more of an all consuming desire to break the ground beneath ones feet. But I refrain, for the sake of the girl in front of me.

"Then do not call my princess." I ask of her.

She looks at me, confusion clouding her once clear gaze. "But Princess, what else are we to call you? The commander means for you to have the throne after The dark queen dies."