It took Christian Riverane another ten minutes to finish talking. I wondered if he'd expanded the topic specifically so he could continue showering in the spotlight, so eager for a thousand eyes on him and weaving tales for the ears of so many. I had sat through his speech: all his extravagant flourishes and words, imagining all the different ways I could kill him.
I was briefly debating the advantages of decapitation versus soul severing when the sound of a thousand different pairs of feet began pressing down on the ground. Looking up, I realised that we'd been dismissed - in a way.
Though the Information Seminar was considered over, already people were seeking out their respective partners, calls and replies littering the air like early morning birdsong. One girl inched her way past me and I muttered a quick reply, getting to my feet and out of her way, trying to catch a glimpse of Stellaire.
Already Alaysa and Valeryan had found each other, though I could see she was already snapping at him while he grit his teeth and lit another cigarette. I turned, trying to eye my partner - wherever the hell he was. Instead, I managed to attract Tatianya who was strolling over to me.
"Hey," I greeted her, my vehement anger unable to stop a smile flitting across my lips. Tatianya always incited that reaction within me. She grimaced - and then abruptly stumbled, a guy who was climbing over the hall's row seats to get to a friend inadvertently tripping her. He barely looked behind him as he clipped her shoulder.
I surged forward, my fingers encircling her wrist and yanking her up before she fell. My other hand held her by the waist as she dragged and Tatianya swore (a rare occasion), having to grip onto my shoulder for assistance. As I steadied her, she shook her head, already laughing at the display.
"Yeah, just keep on going, asshole," I called after the guy who'd tripped her, though his black crop of hair was already swallowed up in the sea of students. Tatianya glared in his direction, not having a problem with open displays of barely veiled hatred. As soon her eyes skimmed mine, the anger slipped off her and she smiled.
"Thanks for the save," she replied gratefully.
"I'm always saving people," I responded modestly. "It's practically in my job description."
"Yeah absolutely," Tatianya agreed sarcastically. "Anyway, where's your partner? Stellar. Doesn't look like he turned up."
"It's Stellaire," I corrected automatically, switching my gaze to the crowds. "And no, I haven't found him yet. But it would be unlike him to miss something as important as this."
"You sound like you know him already," she noted, a slight dip in her voice. "Been hanging out?"
"Hardly," I snorted. "But he's the son of two prominent leaders. I know the type."
"Not two prominent leaders anymore," Tatianya told me. "If it's Stellaire you're talking about, the mother - Ria, I think her name is - became soul-severed. Markus, her husband, cut her off from the power with evidence that she'd been communicating with the Shadow. Then, he severed her. She's been cast down from power completely."
Interesting. I'd wondered how it all came about. Thankfully, Tatianya always knew how to piece together the shards of information together to complete the broken picture. Her parents might have been leaders - but they were the informational kind - intent on gathering as much as they could - about everyone.
She managed to earn her slice of it every once in awhile, whether or not her parents actually knew about it. They underestimated her ability to weave the real story out of the few threads they gave her.
"I knew she'd been severed," I replied, the first sounds of curiosity echoing in my mind. "I saw her at the Partnering Ceremony and she didn't look too good. I didn't check her futures but I would only give her a couple more months before the rest of her soul disintegrates."
"Yeah, well, the punishment was harsh enough."
"You think the allegations were true?"
"Probably not," Tatianya answered. "What I do think is true is the fact Markus Stellaire seems to have a new woman around. And she doesn't seem to be just for business."
"Would explain why he tossed out his wife like yesterday's garbage," I responded critically, my mind running over the problem. "Let me guess: this new woman is a pretty, young thing whose career would most definitely improve from a little boost by a high-ranking official?"
"Dead-on," she replied. "Even better, did you know there's a new spot in the Sol's Chosen? What a blessed coincidence! Now, everyone can be happy."
"Everyone except Ria Stellaire," I muttered darkly.
"You wouldn't happen," a new voice trailed over my shoulder. I sighed lightly, already knowing who it was going to be. The stick-up-my-ass tone was unmistakeable. "to be talking about my mother, would you?"
I swivelled, catching Ryder staring at me with an inexplicably tight expression, his jaw tensed. Tatianya looked him up and down coolly, her eyes taking in all. "We were actually. I'm guessing you have to be Stellaire. Ryder Stellaire. I've barely heard anything about you."
"And yet you were discussing my parents just before," he pointed out, his voice pleasant though his eyes said otherwise. "That suggests you do already know about me."
"We were discussing your parents, yes, but I wasn't aware they were you," Tatianya objected. Her lips were a thin line but not due to a lack of humour. She was studying him, as if he were a book in a language she was struggling to decipher. I imagined Tatianya did not appreciate the difficulty.
"You should find Alexei," I told her, nudging my shoulder against hers. Her expression faltered for a moment: neither of us had had good experiences with the Riverane spawn. She ran her fingers through her dark red hair already gathered upwards in a strict ponytail, though it still flowed past her shoulders.
"Oh," Tatianya responded, verging on distaste. Her lip curled upwards as her eyes darkened. "No need. He's already found me." At the last tip of her words, Alexei brushed past Stellaire, not bothering to cast a look aside as if it were too much effort. Ryder gave him a sceptical look though he didn't appear overtly defensive.
"Why is it I always found you together?" Alexei addressed Tatianya and I. The memory brought an acidic taste to my stomach: sweet perfume turned stale, screams begun and then cut off and the way a bruise blossoms across skin, a toxic spill of blue and green and yellow. "It's both unsettling and remarkable."
"Let's go," Tatianya addressed Alexei, sweeping past him so that she shouldered him: a storm against the helpless sands. He was stripped of his usual smirk, his smile tense. Giving me a smile of teeth and promises, Alexei left, following the girl he hated maybe only second to me.
Though with all the history between us... maybe more.
With their absence, other sounds sharpened in my ears. Sounds of husky low and high, indignation spearing through syllables and anger swelling under tones. I closed my eyes for a second, knowing the twist of each word under the manipulation of my friends' voices.
"... what do you think you're going to do in there?" Alaysa snapped at Valeryan. Her voice was a knot of impatience and exasperation and anger and fear. Fear was the strongest emotion, the most pungent scent out of the mellow competitors. "If you don't start studying for the Maze, you'll become another penalty."
"They say they'll get you out if you're in fatal danger - and sometimes, sometimes, they do," she said ardently, every word underwritten by by something deeper. "Other times, they're just not fast enough and someone gets hurt. I don't want that someone to be you."
There it was. The fear that wrestled in our minds: that Valeryan would not prove to be a match for the Maze. The worry had been around ever since we'd become friends - but now it was Final Training. And failure wasn't an option.
"Why does everyone seem to think I'm going to fail?" he barked back at her. "You, Katarina, the whole damned world for all I know. For all I know - which by the sounds of you and Katarina isn't very fucking much. What I do know out of my very limited knowledge in my very tiny brain is that you're both pissing me off. So how's this for a strategy: go fuck off and worry about me where I don't have to hear it."
He's afraid too. We were airing the fears that had festered in his mind for longer than we'd thought it. Now Valeryan wasn't sure if he was going to make the Maze - and the consequences of that path. For a long time, he'd probably pushed the thought away, but now, with every well-meant word we gave him on the matter... the fear just solidified.
"Are you going to listen in on other peoples' conversations or are we planning?" Stellaire asked me, scything through my concentration. He looked bored, the Maze obviously not affecting him. It challenged all areas seemingly - but a soldier's skills would definitely be required for more than a few of those tasks. And he wasn't a fighter.
"We obviously need a way to find each other," I launched into it straight away. Lingering on my two closest friends' troubles would encourage familiarity with Ryder - and I was fine with staying strangers. "If we want to be finishing this with high honours, we're going to have to meet up a lot sooner."
He nodded, childish dislike aside as he considered. "There are three doors in each room and if you win, you'll have to choose one. I suggest - "
"Some kind of mark on the door?" I cut in, my thoughts already running along the same path. "It would have to be something small - something that could be overlooked by the other competitors. They'll try their best to make sure finding each other doesn't happen."
"Obviously," he remarked, though his eyes skimmed over my figure, as if he were running something over in his mind. Ryder seemed surprised I'd been able to lock into his mindset so swiftly. "Something unique. We won't be the only ones with this kind of idea. We need something that can stand alone."
"Right," I agreed, mulling over ideas in my head. "I'm guessing we'll be carving this symbol or whatever out near the door we picked - and that will require a weapon. A blade would be handy, but we can't be sure either of us will have one. If we don't, use your nails."
"My nails?" Ryder repeated distastefully, his gaze grazing over the bodily part in question. I'd been like that once. Fighting was a painful business - and with every moment of pain you caused someone, you would reap some back as well. When you punched someone: knuckles meeting bone under skin, a jolt of pain would explode in your fist and then race up your arm.
The consequence. You may cause pain - but you'll take pain too. Your body might be a weapon but so was everyone else, even in defense.
"Worried about splinters?" I asked him snidely. "They'll be the least of your problems in there if you're not able to meet up with me in the Maze."
His expression hardened, the natural response to my barbed comments. But he didn't snap back a retort, which made me think I had been right in my thoughts. Ryder Stellaire wasn't accustomed to pain. It wasn't worth my time to lecture him through it however. The Maze would make him understand.
"Stellaire!" A boisterous cry ripped through the silence I'd cultivated. A short someone approached: dark , golden tattoos lacing his wrists and a wide smile that I wouldn't think could be brought up welcoming Ryder Stellaire. The latter turned, his expression calmer and the slight hint of a smile tugging the edge of his lips.
"Nash," Ryder greeted him, nodding. He wasn't the type to grip arms in brotherhood, I gathered. Nash didn't seem surprised by it. "Figured you would be around the city somewhere. I was going to check the city cells but I see you've found me instead."
"Nah, got out of them an hour back just for the seminar," Nash joked. I eyed their interaction dubiously; it wasn't often I saw Stellaire actually act like a normal person. Or have other people think he was too. "So, whose your friend?" Nash's eyes drifted over me, but only as if sussing me out, rather than following every line of my curves.
"My partner is Katarina Arrowglass," Ryder replied, replacing the word with one far more familiar to him. I was of the opinion that Ryder Stellaire didn't have many friends in any case. This Nash kid seemed so easy-going that I doubted he was unable to befriend everyone - even Stellaire.
"Like Stellaire said, I'm Nash," he said in a friendly tone, holding out his hand. I took it, smiling back at him. His grip was firm yet easy. "And don't take it personally Stellaire doesn't consider you as a friend. It took me several years to get through to him. You two should be best friends in about a decade."
"Well I won't be devastated if a decade's gone by and there's no result," I said, laughing. It wasn't really a joke. Nash laughed as well while Stellaire looked strained. "How in Lyastria did you manage to actually stay around him for several years? He takes company like an allergic reaction."
"Nah, Stellaire's not that bad," Nash amended. "But as for those years, we had to grow up together back in Kane. Two leaders' sons - naturally we got on well. Though to be honest, I did most of the talking while Stellaire was the silent one." Nash winked at Ryder who tried to pretend he didn't see it. I decided I liked him.
"You still talk more than you should," Ryder responded, though there was a warmth to him that seemed out of place. Like a fire in the depths of the ocean. "I imagine your parents still haven't recovered over the shock of realising your character was set out to be a healer instead."
"Ah, you heard about that?" he said, for once his smile dissipating.
"Hard not to. Leaders talk more about their own more than anything else."
"Yeah, well," Nash shrugged. "They're fine. Well. To say they've recovered would be a lie. You can't recover from something you've never accepted."
"Leaders are good at that," I spoke up, empathising with him. "Being in denial." It's how they still say we're winning this war and think they're telling the truth.
Nash looked up, catching eyes with me as if in surprise. His smile inched back, not the kind to be repressed even with his own situation. He glanced towards Ryder and clapped him on the shoulder. "I better be going. Watch out for Katarina, Stellaire. She seems too quick for you, even."
Nash shot me a friendly smile and then walked off, calling after someone else. Jumping from friend to friend: the number of them seemed to increase before my very eyes. It wasn't hard to understand why: he had to be the warmest person I'd ever met.
"He seems nice," I commented absently, staring after him. I was surprised I hadn't heard of him, like he said, leaders talked of their own more than anything else. "What was his family name?"
"Nash," Ryder replied, clearing his throat. "He doesn't go by his first name - doesn't like it."
"Huh," I muttered. I drew my gaze back to Stellaire. "Full name?"
"Kydan," Ryder answered. "His full name's Kydan Nash."