Chaos undone, p.65
Chaos Undone, page 65
“Then don’t repeat it. Just say what you can.”
“Then, yes. It’s entirely literal.”
The statement rang like a discordant chord in Flowridia’s head. “I see.”
That same sorrow reflected in Sora’s countenance. “I assume you know about... a-about her life? Before The Endless Night?”
Flowridia nodded.
“She never really had a life at all, did she?”
Flowridia swallowed tears at the statement, the memory of a tear-stained night in Solvira’s castle, where Ayla had spilled every dark secret in her heart, playing anew behind each blink. “No. She didn’t.”
Moisture shone in Sora’s own gaze. “I told her that I forgive her. That’s what saved her—though tackling her to stop her from jumping into the void might’ve had something to do with it as well.”
Flowridia’s scoffing laugh led to a sob, for with it came guilt unparalleled for words said in anger in a cathedral underground. The Endless Night truly was put to rest, the fires of that rage quelled by the descendant of those who lit it.
But who was Ayla now? Who was Ayla without the monster?
“I don’t know what happened between you two,” Sora continued, “but she’s deeply hurt.”
“What happened was Kaas, Sora,” Flowridia said. “What happened was Mereen breaking us both down into nothing—and here we are, desperate to build ourselves anew, only to find we’re stark shadows of our former selves. What happened is Ayla throwing away the very monstrous traits I embraced to be able to truly love her. What happened is—” Flowridia swallowed back tears, each word a fresh laceration upon her heart. “What happened is me. It’s my fault. I’ve become everything I feared I would. Despite everything I aspired for, I’ve become my mother instead.” A few tears escaped, and when Sora’s hand fell upon her back, Flowridia leaned into the touch.
“I... really hope that what I’m about to say doesn’t backfire horrifically,” Sora began, and through Flowridia’s blurred vision, she saw Sora staring far away. “Odessa killed my father, the man who meant everything to me. She was awful to you. I won’t pretend to know the extent of it, but she alluded to it herself. And so it haunts me, that...” Sora’s breath hitched, though her threatened tears did not yet fall. “... that despite every evil thing she was, she was my friend. She was always kind and welcoming to me, and even berated me for accepting the bare minimum of decency from others. She made every effort to make certain I felt accepted and—” Gods, to watch Sora bite back a sob... Flowridia’s own tears fell ever faster. “... a-and loved. I miss her. Isn’t that fucked up? I miss the woman who murdered my father, though I don’t believe she ever knew.”
Sora remained quiet a moment, the conversation utterly surreal. “Sometimes I think about who Odessa must have been before the Solviraes took everything away, because there was once a kind soul inside of her. There was once a woman burdened with magic she had to keep hidden, who loved a man named Elyas—and who watched him and her familiar be murdered. It doesn’t dismiss all the horrific things she did. I-I’m not trying to apologize for her crimes. But beneath the legend of the witch in the Abyssal Swamp was a woman who was funny and kind and befriended those who needed it.
“That’s always been you, Flowridia. I won’t pretend to understand your damn puns, but you were born with wit. You’ve always been kind, and you have an uncanny way of worming your way into people’s hearts. For the Light’s sake, you’re friends with Imperator Casvir. You stole the heart of Ayla Darkleaf. You love the unlovable, and while I won’t say it always leads you to the best of places, love is still love. To be honest, I really admire that about you.”
Flowridia failed to hold in her sob, the words puncturing the pressure in her chest. Here catharsis lay, found in the tears staining her sister’s shirt.
And finally, there fell a few of Sora’s tears, her shuddering sob barely controlled. “I understand your fear. My final words to Mereen were a vow to never become like her. And like Odessa, there was someone good there once, someone who had everything taken away from her by a monster. But they both let that grief consume them. Cycles repeat, and they became monsters themselves.
“Odessa took my father from me. Mereen took my mom. They were my everything. And I shudder at how easily I could have become just as consumed by rage and grief as Mereen. It cost me everything to break that cycle. I lost my Fireborn family, I lost my entire sense of self, and I nearly lost my life, but I don’t regret a damn thing. I gained so much more than I gave up—including you.
“I’m not trying to talk about myself. I just mean to say that Odessa took your innocence. Mereen took Demitri and might’ve taken Ayla too. And because you’re like Odessa, it means you could let that loss change you the same way. But you can break that cycle. It might cost you everything, but you don’t even know what incredible things you’ll find instead.”
What was there to even say? Flowridia had no words, simply wept into Sora’s shoulder, her grief parting for something new and bright.
Sora pulled her into a hug, no words passing between them as they cried. Here they were, bound by blood, and Flowridia had never considered the extent of her sister’s own journey to absolution, to end the cycle of hatred and pain with a monster... who had also been consumed by sorrow and rage.
And what would it cost Ayla to change?
Everything.
“How do you even begin?” Flowridia whispered.
“If I were to pinpoint my first deliberate step away from Mereen’s legacy, it’s when I tried to save you from the dungeon in Kaas. There was no turning back after that. But... I think it truly started when I accepted that I cared about Odessa. Accepting that even someone so monstrous had a soul inside her was entirely dissonant to my worldview. Mereen passed her black and white sense of justice down her family line, and that was the first time I’d truly questioned it.”
Flowridia thought of Thalmus and his wisdom, his acceptance of his life’s trials... and the peace that had followed. A quiet life in Staelash, using his inner strength to aid the populace around him, and of course his kindness toward a broken girl and her wolf.
“I think only you can know what course you have to take,” Sora continued, “but I’m always here for you.”
“I’ll think on it,” Flowridia said, and while she did not quite feel hope, she felt acceptance after all.
A knock sounded. When no one entered, Flowridia said, “Just a moment,” and wiped her tears, helped Sora to wipe her own, and hugged her as tight as Flowridia could bear without squishing the strange cysts on her stomach. “Thank you. I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye, but you’ve really come through for me. When I say I don’t deserve you... I really mean that.”
“My—our—papa said once that family is who you choose,” Sora whispered, her scent familiar and sweet. “It doesn’t have to always make sense, and it’s not about what you deserve. Sometimes it’s just what sisters do.”
When they parted, Flowridia wondered again... what it meant to lose everything and gain so much more. Because that was Sora—who had lost the family she’d known and found Flowridia instead.
Sora helped Flowridia to rise and went to grab her chair, but Flowridia waved her off, feeling much stronger than before. When she answered the door, one of Casvir’s hooded servants floated nigh. “Lady Flowridia, Imperator Casvir requests the presence of Empress Etolié in the war room.”
“Etolié isn’t here,” Flowridia replied, aware of Sora’s shadow behind her.
“That is unfortunate. Imperator Casvir pressed upon its urgency.”
“I know where she is,” Sora said. “I couldn’t name the tavern, but I saw her enter. Tell him I’ll go to Haven and fetch her as fast as I can.”
“It would be appreciated.” The figure bowed and floated away, its eerie motions leaving Flowridia uneasy.
“Will you be all right alone?” Sora asked.
Flowridia nodded. “Are you taking the dog?”
Sora glanced back, as though the dog could read her glance—or perhaps it could. Flowridia had no expectations of a mysterious undead dog. “I think he wants to stay.”
“Are you going to explain where you found a dead dog?”
Amusement filled Flowridia to watch Sora’s minor panic—because yes, it was suspicious, but Sora had no ill will, and Flowridia was content to find anything to laugh over. “When I get back.”
“Stay safe,” Flowridia said, and she prayed the universe didn’t test that plea.
* * *
“So Emperor Malakh has the audacity to track me down, haul me to Neolan, and demand I assist in rehabilitating the refugees I freed from slavery—which sounds like sunshine and daisies, but what he actually meant was place me in charge of territory in northern Solvira. He tried to make me queen.” Etolié balked at the word. “I compromised for magister.”
Well past sunset, the gentle dizziness of drunkenness had actually begun to affect her. Her and Ilune’s blended laughter had filled the rowdy space for hours, invisible among the other patrons. “At least I got to meet my best friends in the entire realm. Khastra, of course, and the man I bullied into being king.”
Ilune’s own musical laughter rarely faded, even when the stories were more serious. “Bullied?”
“Clarence was the empress’ brother, and he’d practically been running the show before I got there anyway. He was going to be magister, but fuck no.”
“I’m shocked Khastra consented to being a part of that, no offense.”
“Is it weird if I say she only went along with it because she fell madly in love with me instantly?”
“As long as we’re being lighthearted about it, I’ll say no and keep laughing.”
Etolié shrugged, before refilling her stein with mere thought once more. “It’s the trauma. If you’re nice to me, I’ll adopt you for life.”
“Well, we will have to see what the trauma of being locked underground for however the hell many years has done to me. Perhaps I’ll even be nice.”
Etolié waved off the words, though a little clumsily in her tipsy stupor. Alcohol rarely affected her in any normal way, but concentrated efforts at least got her buzzed. “I think you’re nice.”
And just when things might’ve gotten mushy, Etolié caught a glimpse of familiar blonde locs cutting through the crowd. “Fuck. Real world, incoming.”
“Should I disguise myself?”
“More than you already are? You’re fine. Sora has no reason to suspect.” Biting the bullet, Etolié waved her arm at the searching figure, finally making eye contact. “If Flowers were dying, Ayla would have come, which means it’s not important.”
Sora finally appeared at the table, no Chaos in sight, but Etolié supposed she was a grown Goddess who could make her own decisions. “Etolié—”
“Anonymity is akin to godliness.”
The half-elf grimaced, biting back whatever long-suffering retort she might’ve conjured. Instead, Sora smiled awkwardly at Ilune, and Etolié’s twisting gut suggested she might’ve spoken too soon. “Hello.”
If there was one thing Ilune couldn’t hide, it was that mischievous smirk gracing her visage, one that both flirted and threatened all at once. “Sora, right?”
“Correct, uh, my lady.”
Ilune’s laughter was nothing like the raucous joy they’d shared just minutes ago—far more charming and controlled. “My lady?”
“Empress Anonymous likely wants your identity secret as well.”
Ilune’s returned chuckle was far more flirtatious this round. “Perhaps that’s wise. May I ask something? Your surname is unique, as I mentioned in the cave, and you’re the older sister. Does that mean you’re the heir?”
Etolié couldn’t decide if she felt put off by... whatever she was witnessing, but Sora simply looked confused. “It would, but that kingdom is no more.”
“No more? No, merely occupied. Someone else is keeping that throne warm for you—or cold, given his lack of blood flow, but you see my point.”
...Why, oh, why was Ilune biting her lip?
“How interesting,” Ilune continued, that impish grin returning. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”
Sora tore her attention away from Ilune, probably not high enough to deal with whatever shit this was. “If we’re using shit aliases, Imperator First and Last needs you, and it’s apparently important enough to need me to come all the way here to fetch you.”
Etolié’s stomach dropped. “Wait, no. Casvir can fucking deal.”
“You tell him that.”
Damn soul contracts and damn Flowers and the baby, too. But if Ilune’s falling countenance was any indication, the disappointment was mutual. “I suspect this isn’t something I can join you for.”
“If you want to come to the castle, we just need to make sure you’re away from the viceroy, unless you’re willing to explain away the wings. But my house in Solvira was, uh, blown up a little, so I can’t have you stay there—yet.”
Ilune’s expression was kind. “Don’t worry about me. It would be wise of me to move my angelic body somewhere safer anyway. Clean up a little. Collect myself. Figure out my new purpose in life.”
“But I’ll see you again, right?”
“You will.”
When Etolié stood, Ilune followed, stealing her into another firm embrace. There would be a time and place for the ‘hugs make me itch’ conversation, but today, Ilune was a puzzle piece she had never known she missed.
There really was something special about this sisterly business.
But the moment they parted, Ilune resumed that odd persona about Sora, batting her eyelashes just so. “Delightful to see you again, Sora. I must say, at the risk of being forward, you’re far prettier not stained by that damn maldectine glow.”
Thirty plus years of political bullshit hadn’t prepared Etolié for this. She tried desperately to gauge Sora’s reaction, but her panicked brain heard static instead.
As it was, Sora seemed to also be thinking in static. “... Thank you. You— You look prettier not in chains.”
Ilune gave a dramatic sigh—surely for show, given corpse bodies didn’t breathe. “I’d say you’d look prettier in them, but that would be forward. Instead, I’ll simply say that I dearly hope to see you again.”
When Ilune offered a hand, Sora set her own in it like a puppet, her motions awkward and stilted—and visibly gulped when Ilune brought it to her lips and kissed it. “Farewell, Sora.”
Ilune escorted herself out of the tavern, leaving Etolié’s heart warm and her stomach a vat of bubbling stew. “Well, that wasn’t how our meeting went.”
Sora stared at her hand as though bitten by a spider.
“How do you feel?” Etolié pressed, hoping that Sora might help her decide how to feel as well.
Sora sounded exceptionally pained. “I don’t know.”
“I might be the only person in the realm who won’t think that’s a bullshit answer. Let’s take a weeklong carriage ride and sort it out, hmm?” As much as remaining anonymous was important, the tavern continued its riotous party around them, paying them no mind at all. “Where’s our resident Goddess?”
Only then did Sora put her hand down, though still sounded dazed. “Um, she’s in a dog body right now.”
Etolié blinked, but supposed it could be weirder. She had been a rabbit once, after all. “That’s not a ‘where,’ but thank you for clarifying.”
“She’s in the castle. With Flowridia.”
Despite the noise of the tavern, Etolié heard the precise moment her sanity fractured. “I’m sorry, you left the matricidal Goddess with who now?!”
Thank fuck, that finally blasted Sora out of her stupor. “She said she wasn’t going to.”
“That’s nice, but I have a theory about those assassination attempts—”
“What assassination attempts—”
“Fuck, I don’t have time for this—WALK HOME.”
Fury pulled her focus fast, and Etolié perfectly crystallized the image of Flowridia’s medical ward, the couches, fireplace, the bedding—
And ripped herself to shreds—but when she opened her eyes, she was standing in the ward itself.
Alone.
Chapter Thirty
Fifteen years after the end of the world...
Sora kept secrets. Now, Dira had one too.
By evening, Ilune had left. Dira found Sora in her aunt’s bedroom.
“So how does Mother know a god?”
Surprise colored Sora’s features. She set a hand on her chest. “You startled me.”
Further evidence of Sora’s compromised state. Dira suppressed a smile. “How does she know Ilune?”
Sora sat on the bed, looking pensive as she gathered the anticipated rejection. “Your mother released her from prison shortly before your birth.”
Dira fought to hide her own shock. That was... uncommonly honest. “Oh. Why?”
“Because your mother thought she had the means to save your birth mom’s life. But don’t hold that against Ilune. We didn’t know it was too late.”
This was supposed to be a much more delicious moment, revealing her hidden cards. Dira shoved aside the grief that came with any mention of her mom. “So, you’re in love with Ilune.”
Sora frowned. “I’m not in love with Ilune.”
“Then why have you been sneaking her into the manor?”
Cards on the table. Sora became very still, her calm demeanor failing to hide the panic in her eyes. “What are you talking about?”
“Actually, I have a better question.” Dira plopped beside Sora on the mattress, fighting the urge to grin. “Who is Soliel?”
“I told you—”
“I’ll tell Mother.”
Sora stared as though slapped.
Dira made a show of checking her nails, no longer hiding her triumph. “Tell me a secret, and I’ll keep yours.”
The seconds ticked by. Sora did not breathe, her voice terse when it finally came. “I’m not the one keeping secrets from you, Dira, and I’m powerless against the person who is. I love your mother like a sister, and she’s said the same, but that doesn’t stop her from threatening to kick me out of the estate every time I’ve begged her to be honest with you. I swear to you, I’m trying.”
