Silver Mask

Chapter 5 - Mare

Julian once told me about suicide bombers called kamikaze who killed themselves in order to bomb a city in some war. I guess that's who the Strongarm was.

It happened in slow motion. The private launched herself onto Cal, and they toppled over the edge. We ran toward the edge, me and Maven, peering into the raging river below.

I look at Cal as he falls, and I teeter between horror, and sadness. I see a world on the edge of a blade. Without balance, it will fall. Now Cal has fallen, the scales have tipped, and the Flame of the North now burns blue.

But my mind goes to a minute ago. A minute. He died too quickly. Captain Blonos, that sentinel asked him to choose between me and the crown. And he hesitated. How does it feel to be used, Mare Barrow?

I thought Cal was perfect, like I once thought Maven was. When will I stop making the same mistakes? Anyone can betray anyone. It's alway been me or the crown. I thought Cal would always stick to me. I guess I was wrong.

Power seduces all, and it makes us blind. I guess I thought Cal would be immune. I guess I was wrong. After all, he has been trained to want the crown his whole life. It's in his nature. Who could blame him?

Cal has been wearing a silver mask his whole life. After a while, it must have melted into his face and become a part of him.

As I look at him fall, I see his lust for the crown, a lust that branded me like the M on my collarbone. Cal can't make choices. Did he think he would have us both? Did he think I would be his Red Queen even above the millions of Reds dying in conscription, in battle, in a war meant to control our population?

He did. I see it in his eyes. Cal wanted both. Me and the crown. But when it came down to it, would he have chosen the piece of metal, or his beloved Mare? The answer almost breaks me. The crown. Cal would have chosen the crown, his gilded cage of a palace, and a life of stepping on the backs of Reds.

Would I have given it up for him? My cause, everything I've worked for? For Cal? No. And maybe that makes me just as bad as he is.

But I think about Nix Marsten's daughters, killed in a useless war. I think of Cameron's brother, Morrey, who was too innocent to go to war. I think of Gisa, who would have had to fight because of a broken hand. I think of the Dagger Legion, of those kids sent to be slaughtered. I think of the statistics in Ada's head, of the millions of Reds who fought and died. I think of all those little letters, stamped with the words, Thank you for your service.

No. I wouldn't have chosen Cal, and I'm glad of it.

He will always choose his crown, and I will always choose my cause. I see now, in the grand scheme of things, that we were never meant to be.

As I look at him falling, I let go of my love for him.

It's a freeing sensation, not constantly longing for him. I don't love him anymore. And I'm at peace.

He is just my friend, Cal. So many memories with him flash before my eyes. My friend, Cal, who helped me through so many difficult times. And now, he is dead.