The Devil's Tear

Chapter 21- Madness

A/N: This chapter is short, I know. VERY short, but I can't write anymore than this. The reason, my finals, as you may already know. Sorry :(

Irma placed Vesta’s limp body onto the red, dusty carpet. Her nose tickled, and she let out a quiet sneeze. Cytheria propped Alexei against the wall.

“Are you alright?” She asked emotionlessly.

“More or less,” Alexei smiled. His midnight blue eye shut, and he breathed deeply. “He’s calmer now.”

His eye fluttered open, and he studied Cytheria with an amused expression. Cytheria punched him lightly in the arm. “You haven’t changed a bit, Alexei.”

“Did you want me to?” Alexei inquired, wrapping his arms around her waist. Cytheria smiled, astonishingly displaying genuine emotion. “No.”

A crash startled the two, and Cytheria and Alexei quickly stood to their feet. Vesta’s lips were curled over her teeth, and her eyes were monstrous as they glared into Cytheria’s. “Hand over Alexei.”

Alexei’s eyes widened, noticing her outstretched arm towards Irma. Irma’s eyes were empty, and blood trickled down from her forehead. He lunged towards Vesta in anger, but was intercepted by Cytheria.

“Irma,” Cytheria nodded. Irma’s eyes regained their sparkle, and she smirked in victory. Her figure disintegrated instantly, leaving Vesta to Cytheria and Alexei. Vesta let her outstretched arm relax, and grinned sweetly.

“You will be sentenced to death,” Vesta spat. “Cytheria Terre!”

Cytheria unsheathed her silver sword, grasping the hilt with her long, pale fingers. Alexei gently stroked her sword’s blade, admiration clear in his eyes. He then summoned his own sword, standing ready beside Cytheria.

“It’s useless,” Vesta grinned. “We’re inside Lord Xerxes’ palace.”

Alexei and Cytheria exchanged baffled looks. Vesta began pacing, while her frame shook violently with snickers. “I am royalty. I have been marked as royalty. All royalty is granted privileges, when in the right area. Lord Xerxes’ palace is a… kind of boost for my abilities.”

“You knew we were going to come here?” Cytheria asked warily.

“Of course,” Vesta clicked her tongue. “I know you, Cytheria. And I was only feigning unconsciousness.”

“Get out of here,” Cytheria whispered under her breath to Alexei. “Now.”

“No,” Alexei disobeyed. “You can’t take on her on your own.”

“Neither can you, in your state,” Cytheria countered. Her eyes flashed with realization, and her head whipped in every direction, sharply scrutinizing the small room. Vesta followed her line of sight with curiosity.

“The mirror,” Cytheria muttered. “Xerxes’ mirror.”

“Are you looking for this?” Vesta inquired childishly. Her fingers gently stroked the dusty brown table, and closed around an invisible object. She cradled it gently in her cupped hands, and kissed it. The moment her lips touched the object, it lost its invisibility. It was a small, ornate box, with rare jewels and amulets patterned onto its surface. Vesta glanced up to witness their horrified and hopeless expressions before proceeding to violently tear the lid of the box from its hinges. She threw the lid forcefully, causing three blue jewels to clatter from their places and onto the thin carpet.

Slowly, she pulled out a small, oval mirror with an unusual sparkle to it.

“My Queen,” Cytheria said calmly, but her distress was evident. “Please be careful with that.”

“Be quiet,” Vesta said, equally calm. “How long I’ve waited to see you, Lord Xerxes.”

The mirror continued to sparkle unnaturally, but no voice emerged from it. Vesta’s brow furrowed, and she called Lord Xerxes’ name repeatedly, her voice losing its calm each time. Her nostrils flared in fury, and she held the mirror at an arm’s length.

“No, My Queen, don’t!” Cytheria cried, clearly foreseeing Vesta’s actions. Vesta ignored Cytheria’s cry, and hurled the mirror against the nearest wall. A short, shocked sound erupted from Cytheria’s open mouth, while Alexei dashed across the room to attempt to protect the mirror. His attempt failed, and the loud crack sent both Cytheria and Alexei’s hearts hammering in their chests. Thick, black liquid spilt out from the cracks, sending a repulsive smell in the room.

The liquid fizzled, and faster than Cytheria could shout, it exploded. Vesta’s shrill laughter was the final sound before the enormous explosion.