Marius's room had a balcony. I stepped out onto it, looking out of Alderas. The sun was bright on the eastern horizon. Dusk would soon fall over the world.
I leaned against the railing, looking straight down. Jagged grey cliffs met the base of the palace, and below them, the river.
The weight of my situation was starting to truly hit me. I was here, in an unfamiliar land with harsh people and harsher customs, and I was alone. In a flash, my entire world had been turned upside down.
There was nobody left. Nothing left for me. I leaned a little further over the banister of the balcony. A gust of wind ripped through my hair, scattering it across my face. I let it fall back on its own.
I closed my eyes, the brilliant orange rays of the setting sun burning through my eyelids until all I could see was red. All I could see in my head was flashes of witnessing the battle, father falling, the panicked running, mother being tossed aside.
I crumpled next to the banister, tears searing down my cheeks. I wanted to see all of them burn. This whole city, the western isles, all of it.
But most of all, I wished for my family to return.
~
The stars began to dot the sky when I finally managed to pick myself up and walk back inside. I didn't know what to do with myself, since I was trapped in here for only the Gods knows how long. I started to go through his stuff, starting with his desk. The documents in plain sight were unintelligible gibberish. A different language, or were they written in code? Either were likely. Marius was a Commander, after all.
A fancy peacock quill sat next to an inkwell, a little eagle figurine next to it. I touched the head of the eagle, running my finger of the edges that detailed the feathers. It was a beautiful piece.
I pulled open the first drawer. There I found a few more documents in gibberish and an ornate knife laying on top. On the crossguard was the grim expression of a man carved into the bronze. I pulled off the sheathe. In completely unrecognizable letters, a word was etched into the blade. I held the knife out before me, admiring the craftsmanship.
The door opening startled me, and I huried to sheath the knife.
Marius peered at me for a moment. His nostrils flared, his fists clenched at his sides. I carefully placed the knife back and closed the drawer. Gods have mercy on my soul, he was going to be angry. I cringed, waiting for the words the come. Yet even after a long, tense moment had passes, they had yet to come. Instead, Marius sighed, before he came over. He loomed over me, pulled back the drawer, and removed the knife.
"Touching another's property without asking, is that common in the North?"
I swallowed. "It is not."
"It isn't here, either." He stepped away. "I'll let you slide this time. Next time, I will not be so generous." He pointed the sheathed knife at me, as if he were pointing a finger at a child he was scolding.
"Understood," I replied, a bit shaky now. What was to come next?
"Good." He motioned to the backless couch sitting in front of the fireplace. "Sit, if you will. We have things to discuss." So I moved over to the couch and sat on the edge, my hands neatly folded in my lap. He sat next to me, fiddling with his knife.
We sat in silence for a moment as he gathered his thoughts. I was tense, unsure of what was to come of this conversation.
"Foremost, I would like to apologize for what you've been through. I had ordered my generals to keep Thorvard and his family alive, but those they commanded did not listen. The Soldiers that murdered your mother and brought you to me were tossed into the sea, I assure you."
I peered at him, caught entirely off guard.
"I do not forgive you, or anyone," I stated bluntly, without hesitation. "You could have all just as easily stayed here and left us well enough to the wrath of the westerners."
Marius shook his head. "If only it were that easy. Father commanded us to march north and conquer. I have to obey his wishes, at least for now. But soon, I will sit on the throne, and he will die."
"But he is your father. Why would you wish him dead?"
"Because he wishes it of me. And the moment I step out of line, he'll have his wish."
"But what about the line of succession. Is that not a custom here?" I tilted my head, watching Marius's expression. He peered into the fireplace, where the fire had long since been burned out.
"Traditionally, the throne would go to the Emperor's oldest son, yes. But that isn't always the case. He can just as easily appoint a candidate he deems more fit. Of course, the people would frown on that, so he'd first have to find a reason to make the people hate me. Do you understand?" He looked to me now, a dark eyebrow raised.
"That still begs the question, though; why are you telling me this? What do you plan to do with me?"
"I'm getting to that." He slightly turned his body so that he was angled towards me. "It is traditional for commanders to visit an oracle before they march to war. I'm sure you can imagine why."
I nodded, wishing he'd get to the point. He continued.
"She told me that I would be presented with a girl whose hair was fire and her blood was ice. I don't recall the rest of it word for word, but it basically stated that you were the key I'd need. The turning point in a war yet to come." He eyed her. "I am not sure how, truthfully. But oracles are never wrong. One way or the other, their words always ring true."
I turned his words over in my head a moment or two. Mother always said to never trust the words of an oracle. They say one thing, and almost always mean another.
"'Hair like fire and blood was ice'?That could mean any red-haired individual in the north."983Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzNw69d9OU6
"But you were the one presented to me. So it must be you." He turned the knife over in hand. "Early tomorrow we go and visit the oracle. You should get some rest." Marius stood, buckling the knife too his belt. "I have a few other matters to attend to. Do you require anything?"
I shook my head. I was a little hungry, but I would not beg for food. Marius left without another word. I clutched the cushion that sat on the end of the couch. It was a brilliant goldfish yellow. I laid on my side, staring out onto the balcony. A light breeze ruffled the curtains on either side of the arched entrance and chilled the room.
I clutched the pillow tighter to my chest.
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