A groan echoed through the room before Tiberius's eyes fluttered open. His muscles tensed, his gaze darting around the sterile room with heightened assessment. It was bright and warm. Almost too bright after his time within captivity. The floors were clean and dry; there was no trace of his blood soaked into the stone. No bucket in the corner for him to relieve himself in.
It was almost strange not to be surrounded by the pungent scents of blood, urine, and faeces. He had almost become immune to them. Yet, the air carried with it the tinge of ointments and disinfectant; the scents burning into his swollen nose.
He drew in a deep breath, his chest aching in response.
From the hard backed seat beside his bed, Aubrey slowly reached out as if she were approaching a timid beast. Then, ever so gently, she rested her hand on his shoulder. It was one of the few parts of his body not shrouded in bruises, cuts, or bandages. Even without an electronic machine to tell her, Aubrey could sense his heart thundering within his chest.
Still, despite her gentle touch, he flinched. Aubrey did not withdraw her offer of comfort and reassurance. Instead, she murmured, "It's okay, it's just me. You're safe."
Tiberius's eyes took another wary glance around the medical wing. After a moment, he forcefully relaxed back into the bed. And it was forceful. She could see the way he commanded each muscle to unclench. It was such a contradiction as even when his head was buffeted by the soft pillow, and he was seemingly at ease, Aubrey had never seen him look more alert.
Her chest ached. They had done this to him. They had damaged his body. They had tried to damage his spirit. Yet Tiberius was a warrior. He had come through it. The question would be in what form.
Already his Atlantian heritage was working to erase the signs of his torture. The bruising had transitioned to the ghastly yellow colour and the cuts in his skin looked several days old. Soon there would be little to no sign of the trauma he had gone through. At least on the outside. Aubrey's heart ached at the internal fight he would yet face.
"What happened?" He croaked out at last, his eyes warily resting upon her.
She tried not to shift under his gaze. Reaching up, she went to nervously tuck a strand of hair behind her each but stilled when she remembered it was missing. Her hair was clean, the black shoe polish washed out, and her natural red colour shined through. Yet, it was short. Too short.
It had been an impulsive decision. One carried out during one of the brief periods she had been left alone. After being on edge for so long, she had felt restless. Before she knew it, Excalibur was in hand and her red curls were falling to the floor. Now, she wore a frizzy pixie cut that sat around her head like a fuzzy halo. Aubrey could only hope her Atlantian healing also applied to hair growth because the cut did nothing for her features.
"Aubrey?"
Shaking her head, Aubrey offered him a small smile. "I saved you."
Stretching out a hand, she brushed a strand of his dirty hair from his forehead.
"How-?" He paused, his gaze falling on his disciple for several long seconds before he drew in a shuddering breath. His lashes fluttered as recognition set in, a content smile forming on his lips. "Matriarch."
Aubrey shook her head. "People keep saying it but I still don't know what they're talking about. The Matriarch is dead."
"And a new Matriarch has been chosen." Tiberius replied just as quickly.
She ignored the lurch within her stomach. It felt right and yet, it was not her. It couldn't be.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
Pushing up on to his elbows, Tiberius caught Aubrey's hand in his. Turning it over, his fingers traced over the mark on her palm. Her skin tingled in his wake. And then, the mark shimmered and turned golden.
She sucked in a sharp breath. It had definitely never done that before.
"It means exactly what is suggests. No one knows why but, since this order of warriors was formed, Atlantis has always preferred to be ruled by women. Men who take up the mantle of leadership have only ever been transitionary." He wrapped both hands around Aubrey's before murmuring reverently, "and now it had chosen you."
Snatching back her hand, Aubrey cradled it to her chest. "Now, wait just a damned minute. Are you trying to say Atlantis is sentient?"
Tiberius' lips pulled up into a smile. "Do you really need to ask this question?"
Their eyes met and held. She remembered the strange energy she had been able to sense since she had returned. It had felt almost – alive.
"No."
"Why me? I'm just a librarian."
Tiberius lips lifted into an indulgent smile. "You were never just anything. You have always been filled with potential, you were just too afraid to see it." He said tiredly, his fingers stretching out and wrapping around her hand that now rested beside him on the bed. "I think Atlantis chose you from the very beginning. It's why the previous Matriarch was so threatened by you. The previous Matriarch started to use her position for her own gain. As a result, Atlantis changed its allegiances. Atlantis chose you."
She opened and closed her mouth in response. Yet the words never seemed to form. What could she say? Despite the incredible world she found herself in, a part of her would always be the same mundane librarian that never believed magic was real.
They lapsed into silence for several long seconds. It was comfortable. Neither felt the need to speak and fill the air between them. Instead, Aubrey just turned her hand and carefully wrapping her hand around his, offering him comfort and solace in the only way she knew how.
After a while, Aubrey asked, "What's going to happen now?"
She may have been the one to save him but, in the face of the uncertainty, Aubrey looked to her mentor for reassurance. This was still so new. She had only been an Atlantian for a few months. There was still so much she did not know. Her training had been brief – interrupted before she was truly ready to go out alone.
Tiberius's head lolled in her direction. His blinked slowly as if he were struggling to stay awake.
"There will be a ceremony where you will officially be recognised as the Matriarch. It is merely a formality as magic has already decided." He replied slowly, his bandaged fingers flexing against hers. "It is nothing to fear. I believe in you and so does Atlantis. And you won't be doing this alone. I'll be here as long as you need me."
Aubrey nodded her head, her throat suddenly dry. It was too much. She was just a bloody librarian. What did she know about leading people? She was a rookie in comparison to the others. Maybe there had been a mistake.
"You've grown since you've been away." Tiberius croaked before dissolving into a great hacking cough. He rolled on to his side, his ribs working furiously before he hacked up a dark clot of blood over the side of the bed.
Wincing, Aubrey replied, "I can assure you I am the same height I have been the entire time you have known me."
With a dry laugh, Tiberius rolled so that he lay upon his back once more, his head cushioned by the soft white pillow. He sighed, his eyes fluttering closed briefly. Lifting the glass of cool water from the bedside table, the dewy beads of condensation soaking into her palm, Aubrey waited. When his eyes reopened, she lifted the glass to his lips.
He frowned and glared at her hand, reaching up with bandage covered fingers. "Tiberius, please let me help you. It's okay to need help every now and then." She said softly. "I've got you and you've got me, okay?"
They had several long seconds in quiet standoff before Tiberius finally gave a stiff nod. He took a long drink before gently pushing her hand away, his head resting back on the pillow tiredly. "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
"Who has trained you?" He asked, watching as she carefully set the glass back onto the small table beside his bed.
Aubrey reached up to play with her hair but abruptly dropped it back to her side when she met only air.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
Tiberius's lips pulled up into a sleepy smile. Then, he murmured, "Try me."
"Merlin."
Any hint of sleep was gone in an instant. Tiberius sat up abruptly, the slight tightening at the sides of his mouth the only sign of his discomfort.
Slowly, intensely, he peered down at her. "What did you just say?"
Aubrey swallowed, feeling as if a stone had formed in her stomach, "I found him. I found Merlin and he trained me. He helped me find another way into Atlantis so that I could save you."
Tiberius cursed loudly. Aubrey's eyes widened at the stream of profanities spilling from his lips. Throwing back his covers, he started to shuffle towards the edge of the bed. Yet, before he could so much as touch a foot to the ground, Aubrey was there. Placing her hands on her shoulders, she gently pushed him backwards.
"No, Tiberius. Get back into bed. You're still injured."
"I'm not too injured to exact justice on Merlin."
"You can explain that to me in a minute. Just lay back down. Please." Her entreaty did the trick and with a sigh he slumped back into the pillows and allowed her to pull the blanket back over his aching limbs. "Now, tell me what has you ready to go to war. Surely it cannot be that bad."
"Merlin is the original traitor." Tiberius spat, his bruised nose wrinkling as if he smelled something awful. "He had always coveted power. He did not like being ordered by anyone he deemed lesser. He certainly did not take kindly for being passed over for leadership by Atlantis. So, when the last Matriarch was due to selected, he tried to interfere. He poisoned the sacred oils which are used to anoint all Matriarchs. If they had been applied as they should have, the Matriarch and all of the attendants who touched the oils would have died."
Aubrey sucked in a sharp breath. All that collateral damage just to feel powerful?
"Atlantis intervened and the treachery was discovered before it was too late. It wasn't hard to determine who was responsible. Merlin was given a choice, be stripped of his gifts and live out the rest of his mortal life in imprisonment or exile. He chose exile."
Aubrey nodded her head. Ever since she had received the warning from the psychic, she had been unable to push away her doubts about the man. They had tainted their every interaction since. And yet, hearing the truth still seemed farfetched. How had the villain crafted himself out to be a hero of legend? Yet, hadn't he admitted it already? He had created Excalibur to rule and even the blade had judged him wanting.
"So what do we do now?" Aubrey asked, a furrow forming between her eyebrows.
Tiberius sighed as exhaustion caught up with him. Before her eyes, he sank into the pillows. Then, allowing his eyes to drift closed, he murmured, "That's for you to decide, Matriarch."
Moments later, his chest was rising and falling steadily as he drifted back to sleep. Aubrey sighed, busying herself with tucking the blankets around his battered body before gently touching the back of his hand. They both had a long journey ahead of them. She only wished she knew the way.