The Darkened War

Ch.11

Alyssa's sword clashed with Brutus's; forcing her to back up, spin around, and with all good intentions of course, jab him in the side. Brutus scowled, and Alyssa smirked in response. Even though Alyssa had decided to put aside her resentment of Brutus while they trained, she still smiled at his expression. Their training together had begun a week ago—but that had simply warmed her up. Nothing new had been introduced yet; only strengthening old skills. And with all the practice Brutus had so graciously been giving her, any dull parts of her abilities had been sharpened back into a fine blade—shining and ready to attack. It was not arrogant of her to admit this—bragging was unnecessary. Alyssa did not simply want to be good—she had to be. In Rayland, being the best was an obligation, not a goal. Now if she was going to end a war, and the King causing it, she would have to be better than that. One mistake could be her last. One wrong move would affect billions.  She would have to perform perfectly for all the people Daniel had taken advantage of—especially her brother, Calvin. She would train every day, as hard as she could, to keep him safe. To get better, grow stronger—that was her goal. Still, when Brutus scowled, she was amused. She was sick of all his taunting, and enjoyed the way it made him feel to know a young Rayland girl was a better fencer than him and all his guards. Not that he should be surprised--she was Daniel's assassin for a reason. 
    Her amusement died when Brutus spoke. "You did well today, I'm impressed. I have confidence you may very well win this war for us." His words hit her like snow in July. He was complimenting her. It almost sounded like he trusted her. Alyssa caught herself staring at him with her mouth parted in surprise, and closed it. Maybe she had been wrong. Maybe his hatred was not towards her, or even Rayland, but Daniel for all he had done. Alyssa understood that, and her heart softened towards the man.
    "Tomorrow, we work on magic. It will not be easy because I know nothing about it, but if I could see it in action, I might be able to find a way to help you control in. Physical training, while dealing with the body, also taps into emotions and mind, and after a while, the skills you are taught become instinct. Maybe magic is similar."
Alyssa nodded, and Brutus released her, wishing her a good night's rest. Alyssa wasted no time putting her weapon away and heading out the door.
    Overnight, her room still had guards outside the door—but fewer—and they let her go to training and return without escort. It would not surprise her if someone was watching from a distance, but at least she was no longer crowded.  Not too much longer, she told herself, maybe just a few more weeks and I will be done with guards for good.
Regret rose inside her, and her stomach turned at the thought of succeeding in Adrien's assassination. Daniel would have won, and afterwards, he would continue to go to war, again and again. Eventually, her brother would have ended up on the battlefield; likely dead—and it would have been her fault. It was incredible—and frightening—to think that by killing Adrien, who was now her friend, could have also brought about Calvin's death. Alyssa's heart ached. Still, now she was faced with just as difficult of task: killing Daniel. The man she knew better than anyone. She had eaten beside him for years; bowed before him every morning, talked with him in the evenings—sometimes even laughed . . . but those thoughts and memories were dangerous. Daniel was evil. He had lied to her, and all of his people. He had attacked, enslaved, and wiped out good and innocent kingdoms for power, and would do it again. If he discovered her betrayal, he would eliminate her. She would not risk lives by being sucked into her guilt.
    As Alyssa neared her bedroom, Adrien poked his head out around the corner and grinned at her. "I heard from Brutus you did well today. Can you confirm these rumors?"
    Seeing Adrien made another matter cross her mind, and her only response was, "I need to speak with you about something important, can we take a walk?"

Neither of them was bothered by the pouring rain. If Alyssa thought her training pants were heavy before, it was nothing compared to now; they soaked up water like a sponge, but Alyssa barely noticed. Her mind was too full of questions. She had not seen Alain since the ball, but the image of him with the fruit never left her mind. Alain, the strictest person she knew, had waited until everyone had left the scene before devouring the very thing Adrien wished was forbidden—and made him so cold. When Alyssa found him, Alain appeared to be trying to interpret it, as if he understood it as well as Jacob, and what he had told her . . . Alyssa was still trying to make sense of it. If Rayland was not the biggest threat, then what was?
Alyssa shivered, and when Adrien looked at her, played it off as being cold. Taking a deep breath, she began.  "At the ball we had a week ago, I met Prince Jacob. That fruit . . . why did it scare you so? "    
    It was a dangerous line to cross; accusing the king of being afraid. But there was no better way to say it.
Adrien stopped walking, and before Alyssa could apologize for asking, responded, "Effulgence tries to avoid many aspects of Aiwirith, not just that fruit."
    Alyssa raised an eyebrow, "Then why were they invited?"
    "My father knew the king and queen of Aiwirith well. For centuries they have been allies with Effulgence; friends, too. I have known Jacob as long as I can remember."
    Alyssa bit her lip, puzzled, "Then what is it about that kingdom that is so bad?"
    "You misunderstand, it is not bad" Adrien sighed, then smiled, "In fact, it is beautiful. I have traveled there before, and it is magical. Not that I believed in magic at the time, but, whenever I went there I got this feeling . . ." a serious look crossed his face, "that it was too magical."
    "Magic . . .like mine?"
    "I do not know. I have heard many stories of magical kingdoms, and cults, but until I met you, that is all they were—fascinating childhood stories. Now that I know magic exists, I can no longer decipher reality from fantasy. Just because you have magic does not necessarily mean there are entire kingdoms filled with it. Even so, my visit there was unsettling."
    "Unsettling?"
    "Dark."
     Alyssa could still remember the taste. The minute she swallowed, she had been shocked with a vision. It had been painful—like picking at a scab to reopen the wound. In less than a second she had gone from an unreachable past to a horrific future. Dark was certainly the word to describe it. Although she did not know whether the darkness was evil, or just a piece of her life she was not willing to face.
    "Do your people know about the fruit?" An image of Alain flashed through her head when she asked.
    "It is a rare occurrence that it is brought to Effulgence. I was shocked to see it. It was the first time it had reappeared in Effulgence since I was a very young child. And even then, it was not at a ball."
    "So it would be impossible for people in Effulgence to know what the fruit does  . . . or even recognize it?"
    Adrien shrugged, "Not impossible, I am sure there are books written about it if you looked hard enough. Anyone interested in culture or fortune telling would be familiar with the fruit."
    "What about understanding it?"
"Hm?"
"I mean not just knowing what it does, but actually comprehending what it tells you. Understanding the message of the fruit the same way a fortune teller reads cards, or palms." Alyssa knew her questions were becoming detailed, but she could not stop herself from asking. Adrien was holding a rope of answers, and desperately, hand over hand, Alyssa was yanking it closer.
    "In my kingdom?  Hardly. I certainly cannot, and I have been to Aiwirith. The messages are jumbled and senseless—personally, I think the only real power it has is making you delusional. Most likely, it is not magic, it is a hallucinogen—but like I said before, most of my people have never seen or heard of the fruit. If there is a message, they could not interpret it."
    Adrien continued to talk about the fruit, but Alyssa stopped listening. All she could think about was Alain, slipping the last piece into his mouth. He had explained the messages after each bite, never hesitating, never questioning. He had believed and trusted it. He had been scared, like Adrien, but unlike him he feared what the fruit had told him rather than the fruit itself. This made no sense. Surely Adrien would know more about this than his advisor.
    "Alyssa?" His voice woke her from her thoughts.
    "Hm?" Alyssa responded, still dazed. She slipped her hands into her pockets even while they were wet, thanks to the rain. At least now it had slowed to a drizzle.
    "Why are you asking me about this?"
    "I have been wondering about it ever since my conversation with Jacob." The half truth came easily.
    "You do not need to worry. If you do not consume it, it cannot bring you harm. Now, we should head inside before we get frostbite." Alyssa nodded, but when Adrien smiled, it felt unnecessary. His smile carried such warmth she could no longer feel the cold.
   
Alain stared outside the only window in his room. Unlike the rest of the castle, his walls were not made out of glass, but stone. Given the option, he chose privacy over beauty. Both Adrien and Effulgence, in Alain's opinion, were so carefree it was dangerous, and Alain worried.  But there was no point trying to reason with him; Adrien adored the view, and was too stubborn to listen even to Alain. Still, Alain did everything in his power to protect him despite this.
    But for once, Alain's full attention was not on his friend; it was on the fruit's message. It had been so long since he had eaten it that at the ball he had not recognized it the room was empty and night over. Curiosity took a hold of him, and he had eaten a piece. That night, for the first time in a long time, Alain was terrified. Everything he prepared for over the years in regards to the war was now meaningless. Another threat was coming, and this one was out of his control.  Then came a very familiar voice. He realized it was Alyssa's almost immediately, but there was more. It was a voice from his past. How had he not noticed before? Her eyes, her hair, that fierce determination . . . how had he not recognized it--recognized her? How had it taken him this long? That night, when he finally knew who she was, Alain could not help it: he spilled everything. Thinking back now, he had not meant for her to hear. Alyssa was the last person he should have given that information to—but he was too dazed from the visions to think sensibly.
    So now she knew. Alain only wondered what she would do about it. Did she even believe him? After all, he had not shown Alyssa any sign he trusted her, why should he expect any different from her? Alain pinched his lips together and watched the rain. It was too late to take anything back now. So far, she had said nothing. Maybe she had forgotten. Until he knew for sure, his worry would not cease.
A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts, and he turned to find Adrien standing there soaking wet. Adrien was beaming, so Alain concluded he had spoken to Alyssa recently—she always seemed to give him hope, and never failed to make him smile. But from the water dripping on the floor in front of him--it was clear they had taken this discussion outside. In this weather? Alain held back a heavy sigh of frustration. Knowing Adrien, not only did he go out in the pouring rain, but likely did not bring any guards with him. He had been entirely alone with the person who had tried to take his life. If Adrien was not Alain's king, things would be different. He would have lectured him, maybe even smacked him around. But all he could do as advisor was throw him a towel.
    "You made no attempt to stay dry." Or safe. Alain thought, but held his tongue.
    "The rain wasn't very helpful." Adrien responded with a laugh. Alain tried to keep the surprise from his face. He couldn't remember the last time Adrien had genuinely laughed. Since the war, he'd been unresponsive and solemn. Whatever plans he had gone over with Alyssa must have given him a new hope. Alain smiled and took a seat on the sofa. He tried not to grimace at the clothes, books, and other things scattering the floor. Alain's room was always straight, but recently, his mind had been too occupied to give him the opportunity.
    "What were you up to outside? Well, I'll save you the breath. What were you and Alyssa discussing?"
Adrien laughed again. "I don't really see how that's your concern, Alain."
    "I'm your advisor! The war concerns me as much as you."
    When Adrien responded it had nothing to do with the war, Alain was startled, and murmured, "Even so . . . your business has been mine and mine yours since we were children."
    Adrien smirked slightly, "Well, since you're so curious, Alyssa had some questions about some of the gifts at last week's ball." Adrien shook his head, "I should really talk to Jacob. That fruit is dangerous and I don't want it here again."
    Alain stiffened, and immediately his mind began to race with questions on how much Alyssa had told him. Then again, if she'd mentioned anything about how she'd caught Alain eating the fruit, he was sure Adrien would have brought that up. Alain held his breath, trying not to look suspicious.
    "You alright, Alain?"
    "Fine, tired I guess."
    "Do you want me to leave so you can get some rest?"
    The thought of sending Adrien away, especially now, when he was in such a good mood, was dreadful. Still, Adrien knew if this conversation continued it would end badly. He couldn't risk anyone, especially Adrien, finding out about the night of the ball.
    "Yes, for tonight. I do need sleep."
     Adrien rose from the floor. He looked at Alain for a moment, as if hoping he'd change his mind. He had hardly seen him the entire week, and now that they finally had a chance to talk, he looked . . . exhausted. When Alain remained silent, Adrien left the room