Salo couldn't believe it.
He knew they weren't the only ones hunting the Kingfisher. Arden had warned him that there would be other travelers, criminals, and even royal guards searching for the heirloom. The palace of Seyal had sent trackers and hunters, and it couldn't have been more than a week that the artifact was missing. He had hardened his heart and was ready to fight anyone, for his sake and mostly his mother's.
But nothing had prepared him for this. He couldn't fight a princess.
At first, he had deemed himself stupid. The Princess of Light had no business in a peasant's dress. The newspapers were full of her deep sea-green eyes and her golden hair, and this one looked weak and fatigued. She looked like she could be dying, yet the resemblance was still there, alive and undeniable.
And still, through the weariness, Ailyn Lacard was the most beautiful girl Salo had ever seen.
He shook his head. Now's not the time for this! Yet he didn't know what exactly he had gotten himself into.
The alleged Zhao Koroka laughed, throwing his head back, holding his chest. Although Salo didn't recognize the face, he couldn't deny the name was disturbingly familiar. "How nice to know we have a common acquaintance! I'm sure he would love to see you, too," he chirped, mockery lingering in his tongue. Lacard stiffened and her almost hollow cheeks seemed to blush.
Zhao stepped around the desk, leaning towards its edge. "I must say, I am surprised. I didn't expect Her Highness and my dear friend Vera in the same building."
They know each other?
Salo turned to look at Arden for the first time. His whole body was rigid, his only movement being the slow rise and fall of his chest. The hard, silver eyes seemed distant, yet they were pinned on Zhao's face. His jaw was clenched and so were his fists, making the handle of his mysterious case look almost cracked. "Shut up," he muttered through tight teeth, making it sound like the vicious hiss of a snake.
"What," Zhao beamed, looking at all the confused faces surrounding him. "You haven't told your friends? How terrible."
Arden lunged at him. He seized his white shirt's collar and slammed his head on the nearest wall with the ferocity of a lion. Zhao blinked, his eyes rolling back in silent misery, yet he didn't resist. They stared at each other for a moment, both glares flaring with a flame that had been kept drowned for too long.
Salo was used to seeing his companion impassive, and the most emotion he had let show was mild annoyance. But it soon dawned on him, too, that he didn't know Arden, and he never had. With a bolt of terror in his heart, he realized his stupidity. He had trusted a complete stranger, a man who tried to kill both him and his family. He had followed him and joked with him and even slept next to him. All for a taste of money, for a glimpse of what being free actually meant. For all he knew, Arden could be Lephar Blom's long lost child. And that, for a reason he could not explain, made his heart sink.
Zhao grinned once again, but this time the rage behind his behavior was clear as day. "You can hit me all you want, fireboy." A slow trickle of blood painted his right temple. "I'll make you live that day over and over again. I can make it vivid, too."
As if someone had pressed a switch in his brain, Arden fell back, letting go of Zhao's clothes. He took a few steps backward, not breaking eye contact with the mysterious man before them. "You... What do you want?"
The room fell silent. The two girls standing above a couch looked terrified, to say the least. Ailyn's eyes were ready to pop out of their sockets, her face still red from confronting the receptionist. The little thief clutched the letters even tighter now, her nails tearing into their sides, and although her features betrayed little emotion, she stood stiff as a board.
Finally, Zhao sighed. With no warning, his features started suddenly shifting. Salo rubbed his eyes furiously, then tried again. The man's jaw grew, forming the tip of a diamond. His hair's amber color faded, revealing a gorgeous midnight black underneath. His eyes though, they didn't change; they remained the familiar golden slits that Salo had recognized, and soon enough the pieces of the puzzle were put into place.
Zhao... something. Salo didn't quite recall the whole name, but he definitely remembered the entire story behind it. The face that now stood in front of him had been in every single newspaper only some months ago, so much so that even the small town of Sevin heard the news. An Ascended, destined to rule Musha -- a north-western country of the continent -- they said. He would be the first Mushan Prince of Illusions, and all he had to do was defeat the mortal king that sat slouched on his throne and ate sowbelly all day. And when that future prince disappeared, everyone was either shocked or confused beyond relief. Well, except for the king. He was probably just happy he would be allowed to keep eating sowbelly.
Now, the Ascended stood in front of them, eyeing them with more warning than there was before. Ailyn muffled a sharp breath, stumbling forward and gripping Zhao from his forearms. Despite her attempt at pushing him to the floor, he didn't hesitate to grab her elbows in support. To Salo's eyes, it looked more like she was steadying herself instead of threatening him. She studied his face, eyes stuck wide. "Why? Why did he--"
"Because," he said, a cautious tightness returning to his lips, "people like Kage like to have others indebted to them."
Salo gaped at the man. Kage? As in very real and valid Prince of Shadows, Kage? Salo tried to signal Arden, to beg him to leave that place, but his eyes were fastened to the floor.
A horrifying affirmation occupied Ailyn's features. The little thief's head snapped at him, her jaw clenching. It was her turn to raise her hands, but this time it was a simple accusing finger pointing at Zhao's chest. "You magic filth! Don't you dare--"
A sharp, humorless laugh cut her off. "It's not like I have a choice, darling. I owe him a serious favor."
"Damn you and your stupid favor fetish!" she screamed, stomping towards his still figure. "Ailyn and I are going to walk away now. Thank you for your help, but this--"
"The princess is worth three million gold pieces."
Silence. Ailyn froze, the little thief froze, even Arden's attention was drawn this time. Salo gulped.
"What? But--"
"Yes, yes. The Seyali palace has released a notice - an offer, to be exact. 'Three million gold pieces to however can find the missing princess'. Six hundred beach houses, unlimited stew. Hell, you could even buy the whole palace and paint it a neon green with that money. We can share it if that helps you decide." Zhao grimaced, shaking his head. "Is a flashlight really worth that much, though?"
Salo sat and thought. Three million. He didn't even make three gold pieces a month. Even a single yellow coin in Sevin was considered dowry for the women and a whole fortune for men. His mind couldn't even grasp the amount of money the Seyali Ascended Council was willing to pay, simply to get a girl back who ran away by herself in the first place. He looked at Ailyn once more, but he couldn't see her anymore, not through the greed that had occupied all of his senses.
Ailyn held Zhao's arms even tighter. Her lower lip almost trembled, sending a pang of pity down Salo's spine. "He doesn't have that kind of money! It must be a hoax."
Zhao shrugged. "You cannot begin to imagine the number of people who would donate their life fortunes in order to get the nation's sunshine back."
She turned around to look at them. The thief tried to face her head on at first, but she looked away and bit her lip. She turned to Arden, but his cold stare gazed upon her pitilessly. And finally, she threw a glance at Salo. They were strangers, knew nothing about each other, yet there was a desperation in her eyes. Desperation for a drop of empathy or an argument to the illogical words Zhao was spitting. Salo opened his mouth, tried to tell her she was right, but his voice was gone, along with his humanity.
A great sob escaped Ailyn, and she covered her face with shaking hands. She bled the salt of her heart as it poured from her eyes. "Is that all I am to you? Just a paycheck?" A stinging breath was drawn is her chest. She stared at Zhao, shaking his forearms. "Please, I can't go back. He'll murder me or torture me or something worse than all of this!"
Zhao rose a questioning eyebrow. "Not sure about that. Were you not his pet before you decided to run away?"
Something in Salo snapped. He felt something spark through his gluttony, and with horror, he recognized the familiar sting of envy. He broke free from his frozen state and lurched forward, grabbing Ailyn from her shoulders and hauling her from Zhao's range. The heart inside his ribs pounded in his chest, in his ears, in his neck.
"Why are we even discussing this? This is madness! We won't exchange a human life for a bunch of coins. We will only get a fraction of them, anyway," he snapped, shaking Ailyn as he spoke. She let out an exhausted cry.
Zhao gasped dramatically. "Just a hundred and fifty beach houses? Unacceptable."
"What we're after is worth more, right? Why stray from the mission now?" he exclaimed, leaning towards Arden's direction. He shook his head. Salo groaned, clutching Ailyn tighter. "We'll leave now. Follow if you want."
"Let her go, Canbar." Arden's voice was weaker than it should have been, but the authority in his tone was clear. It sounded strained, forced. "We settle with what we have guaranteed."
A hysterical laugh burbled inside Salo's chest. "Nothing is guaranteed! Not our life, not this money, not even that the stupid Kingfisher even exists!" He stared at Arden, searching for his eyes. The man kept looking away. Salo shook his head, sighing. "When you forget your true goal because of some compelling promises... That's when you know you're desperate. And we should never be desperate. Is that not what you told me?"
"This is not the time for protecting your moral compass," the thief said. For a mere second, she widened her eyes and raised her eyebrows, before her features went back to normal. "We'll all go on a little vacation to Seyal to drop her off."
Unbelievable. Salo couldn't understand how inhuman some people could be. They were ready to shove the princess in the enemy's hands as soon as a better deal was proposed. What was more of a mystery, though, was why he wasn't ready to do the same, why he kept insisting on keeping Ailyn. Why he was still holding her shoulders.
Once the thought struck him, he removed his hands immediately, as if Ailyn's skin was toxic. Instead of walking away, as everyone else had, he instead snatched her wrist and begun dragging her towards the glass double doors which led outside. She didn't argue, but a confused expression was painted on her face.
"Take another step forward," Zhao warned, "and you'll regret it."
But Salo didn't care. He felt strange doing what he was doing, but something inside him told him it was the right thing. Arden's face was firm, his lips a thin pink line. The thief brought up her palm and slapped her forehead. He had a feeling they didn't agree.
"I--" he began, but he stopped abruptly. The boy looked around, confused.
Everything was gone.
Zhao, Arden, the thief, the hotel, even Ailyn. Everything was dark, as if night had fallen prematurely. A trickle of sweat licked down his cheek. A blackout? But it wasn't just the lights; the candles, the sun, nothing seemed to glow anymore. He waited for Ailyn to do something. She was the Princess of Light, after all. But the longer he stood the quicker he realized that it was never going to come. He tried to walk, run, move, but the only action he seemed capable of was a slight extension of his arms. A wave of panic overwhelmed him, sending shocks of electricity down his spine.
And then it appeared.
A bright flash of light blinded him. He couldn't help but flinch at its brilliance. It blazed down like a shower of gold, washing his face. A slight opening of one of his eyes was enough for him to raise his arm, shielding his dilated pupils. When they finally adjusted, he looked around, searching for the princess. But all he saw was a bearded face peeking curiously at him.
Salo shot up. He banged his head against the wooden door, making a groan escape his throat. Once he had crawled out of wherever he was before, his jaw dropped on the floor.
He wasn't in the hotel nor Messo. In fact, he wasn't in western Frya at all. He stood in a large schooner, the smell of booze reeking anywhere he turned his nose. Hundreds of people surrounded him, blocking his view of the harbor, but he needn't see the place to know what it was.
Sevin's dock was like he remembered. Drunken sailors, underpaid dockworkers, and travelers littered the grey pier. But even the raging tides crashing against the rocks couldn't outdo the desperate waves of refugees who took up every inch of the dirty harbor.
Why am I here? The question echoed in his head, but it soon became but a faint whisper as he glanced to his right.
His father stood there. Healthy, joyful. Alive.
All previous thoughts seemed to be drowned in a sea of confusion. Salo darted forward, reaching for the man's shoulder, but he slipped out of range. With a frustrated groan, the boy followed after his father, the man who he thought to be pushing up daisies eight years already. He shoved anyone in his path, people who spoke his mother tongue, yet nobody spared him a second glance. He kept going until he was off the packed boat, stopping only when he caught sight of something peculiar.
Salo saw himself. Well, not exactly. It was a young boy with sparkling jade eyes and light brown skin, clinging to his mother's side. Salo's mother. His father leaned down and patted the kid's dark hair, laughing at his tear stained cheeks.
"The embassy will help us. Don't worry."
Salo shook his head, closing his eyes. This can't be real. I'm having a dream. But just as his lids slipped open, the harbor disappeared, along with his family. In a blink of an eye, he was in Lephar Blom's house, his father pleading to be taken in. Trying to look away only caused the setting to change yet again, and again.
He saw it all. And he could feel it all. The tavern, the gang, the salty atmosphere of south Sevin clinging to his skin. He told himself to relax, that it would soon be over. But deep breathing didn't seem to help, as he approached the point he dreaded the most disturbingly fast.
It was raining. For a dream, Salo thought, this is too vivid. The storm pounded down, each drop a small stone, piercing cold. The smell of wet roses swept into his nose. A figure lay only a few feet away from his drenched shoes, kissing the muddy stones. Crimson rushed from his left shoulder, staining the sidewalk, but the color was washed away quickly by the water. That didn't prevent it from flooding out in angry waves.
Salo knew it wasn't real. He knew he couldn't be swayed by a mere dream. Yet he was starting to shiver and his feet were feeling sore, and the lifeless figure's black hair looked all too familiar. He knelt down, staring at the man's features. Should he have been surprised? Should he have felt anything but pain? He had no idea. A tightness bloomed in his chest, and soon hot tears began streaming down his cheeks uncontrollably.
He couldn't bear it anymore. So he closed his eyes. But nothing happened this time.
Salo started panicking. His hands starting trembling, and soon he found himself blinking repeatedly, trying to get rid of that torture, to wake himself up. Yet the blood kept coming and even the sky was mourning. He caught his head into his hands, shutting his eyes tightly.
"No," he muttered. Rain drummed the ground like a hundred marching soldiers, the sound drilling into his skull. The corpse refused to move. The storm refused to stop. That cursed dream refused to end.
Soaked and mentally exhausted, Salo stood there, eyes closed, ears plugged. And somehow, even with half of his senses numbed, the cold drops slamming on his shirt was a constant reminder of his situation; him and a corpse. His father's corpse. Every muscle in his body screamed at him to flee, but he simply couldn't.
The boy collapsed to the ground, letting out a cry. It was his fault. If he hadn't been born, his parents wouldn't have to leave Fabal. If he weren't so needy, his father wouldn't have had to turn to Sevin's gangs for help.
If he just didn't exist, maybe it would have been easier.
He wasn't sure what he wanted anymore. To return to reality? To sink deeper into the world of crime, to live every day of his life with no purpose whatsoever?
What is my purpose, anyway?
He looked at the sky, rain drops further blocking his already blurred vision. "Please," he whispered. "Just end this." And as if the universe had obliged, a great tremor overwhelmed him. But it wasn't fear or panic. It was something grander, something more... real.
The next thing he knew, his head was lying on Ailyn's lap.
He couldn't help but jump up. A blood-curdling scream ripped from his throat, turning all faces towards him. He shot upward, his nose slamming against Ailyn's, causing her poor head to be smashed against the hard metal behind her.
"What... what just happened?"
The monotonous greys of the metal wagon came to contrast the vivid colors of his dream. Every single raindrop was so detailed, with multiple shades of blue and clear liquid texture. Every color seemed intense and vivid there; now, all he could see was a bleak rainbow of black and more black.
He looked around, scanning his dull surroundings. Arden was there, as well as the little thief. When they noticed Salo had finally awakened, they threw a meaningful glance at each other and looked the other way, as if nothing had happened. Next to them sat multiple soldiers dressed in black and blue, a deep see lined with ebony seaweed. The colors of Seyal. Zhao, however, had not graced them with his presence.
And of course, Ailyn. She looked distressed. Admittedly, she did just get kidnapped by a patronizing, power-hungry, uncultured swine. A look of great bitterness swept across his face. The way he felt then couldn't even begin to compare to the emotions that overwhelmed him when he spotted the princess's bare, blistered feet.
Anger curled hot and unstoppable in his gut, like a blazing inferno that wanted to burn him from the inside out. He stood up, his head almost banging against the ceiling. His glare was fiery as he stared into Arden's bored eyes. All that had happened dawned on him. They knocked me out. Now they're taking her back to the country she hates. It wasn't his place to talk or act, and he was aware of that. But seeing Ailyn's burnt legs spawned a thousand questions in his head, spinning around like a carousel of burning rage and dazzling confusion.
As if it was timed, the wagon rolled to a stop. The soldiers eyed the group wearily, eyes narrowed, and proceeded to march outside, barring the door after them. Silence conquered the makeshift prison.
Salo took a deep breath, his nostrils flaring. "What the fuck have you done?"
Before he could continue, Arden grabbed the boy's collar, shoving his frame back down on the bench. "Listen here, you imbecile. I'm aware you're not particularly bright, but can you not pick up on a single sign?"
"Why did he call you that? Fireboy? And how come you two know each other?"
Arden blinked twice. He shook his head, letting go of Salo's almost torn shirt. "This isn't the time to analyze Koroka's gibberish. We're bailing your precious girl out."
Salo's blushing was interrupted by the thief's sharp laugh. "You didn't really think we would share our satisfaction guarantee in case we don't find the bird, did you?"
Ailyn looked at the thief through narrowed eyes. Her voice came out as a shaky croak. "Did... Did you really have to cripple me?"
"No," Arden replied, inspecting the door. "But you're known for your unpredictable bursts, and we didn't want to have to deal with that. Not today."
Salo studied Arden, his lips thinning into a straight line. "There was the easy alternative of not going through all of this. We could have stayed in Messo. Run away. Just like you plan on doing now."
Arden didn't reply, but Nora threw a piece of paper on his face, blocking his vision. He recognized the yellow edges and the smell of booze; it was undoubtedly part of Halim Terko's unsent mail. He grabbed the thin paper and inspected the hasty swipes of black ink.
'From: The Queen's Jewel, Messo Harbour, Frya
To: The Club of Broken Promises, Karahi, Musha
Dear Lumi Dorona,
I read your message. Despite our differences, I wish to share something with you. On my journey back to Frya, I came across a young girl, a simple student. She was fuming, kicking and screaming, about a bird? If I'm not mistaken, that must be the artifact you were talking about, the one your men took on the raid. It appears to be important, more than a bunch of porcelain stuck together. I asked her for details, but all she gave me was a mark on my cheek and a frozen toe. It was hard not to recognize her; a dual bender, one related to the palace.
There's more to the heirloom than you might think. It's not just easy money. You can obviously not elicit information from the Prince of Shadows himself, but I suppose his brat of a half sister would do? She is told everything, yet she's not guarded at all. Few people know she exists. Take your chances before she's silenced.
I inquired about her timetable, and she happily handed it over. Well, not so happily. And she didn't hand it over. Whatever, I just took it. It doesn't matter. It will be in the back of this page.
It wasn't hard to get her to vent, either. The little girl is being moved into the search party for the Kingfisher. I'll have to warn you now; this brat is a vessel to power much greater than you can imagine, power she hasn't been trained to control. Stay out of their path if you value your fair skin; she's able to make you crispy like a roasted chicken.
At least she seems to be showing resistance. She refuses to leave her school and her usual lessons. I don't know how long that will last though considering . . .'
Salo rubbed his eyes. Was this all Halim Terko had to offer? Simply passing on the torch someone in Musha? "So this is why you let us be taken. To reach Musha faster."
"Lumi Dorona is dead," the thief blurted out, her eyes fixed to the floor. "Her house was burnt down. Coincidence? I don't think so." She stepped forward, snatching the letter from Salo's hands. "The Kingfisher will have been moved by now. Rather than searching the ashes for clay, I suggest we instead cripple both the search party and Kage's sanity."
Salo sat there, stunned. "You want us to break into the palace? You're crazy!"
"Terko didn't get to write the timetable on his letter, but we know that Elara Sillich is inside her school during certain hours, at least according to logic. I don't reckon the prince would allow one of his own to attend just any snobbish prestigious academy. It has to be the snobbish prestigious academy, the Royal Seyali Academy of the High Arts, don't you think?" She smiled a cunning grin at him. "We're stuck together now. You don't have much of a choice."
"So we will capture a teenage girl and force her to turn against her own blood, is that it?" Salo was at a loss of words. "That's impossible!"
Arden's lips curved as he placed his palms flat on the doors' narrow windows. "I have a plan."
***
Well, that was a ride.
Salo's backstory just needed to be explained at this point honestly, especially considering everything that will happen next.
A thank you to everyone for almost 300 reads! It's objectively a small number but subjectively HUGE.
Please vote and comment, it helps me a ton! ♡
PUBLISH DATE — 19/06/02
EDIT DATES — 19/07/15