The Kingfisher

XXVII : Ela

The next morning was the coldest one she had ever felt.

Ela's eyes snapped open as chilly air from the open window whooshed past her bared frame. The previous night had been anything but peaceful; her mind had been plagued by nightmares, awful dreams. At least all of them seemed to melt away from her mind as she kicked the last of her blankets off her body and sat up in her new bed.

The party had ended uneventfully. Ela had been tempted to tell Kage all about her encounter with the Flouornan spy, but something kept her from doing so. A few toasts and dances later she was thrust into a dark blue coach and taken to the far left wing of the palace. It was a deserted place, reserved for guests who at that moment were extinct, but at least she was in.

One night had not been enough for her to decide. She didn't think any number of restless midnights would be sufficient for a dilemma this difficult. At some moments she was certain helping Flouorn was the proper thing to do, that Seyal was clearly in the wrong. Yet at others she felt insecure. There are no good or bad guys in a war. Then her silly mind forgot all about that again, and she was ready to leave everything behind for the lost cause that was Flouorn's military.

Today was one of those hesitant days. Why bother? What's the point of betraying your country? Why interfere in a war simply out of bitterness? Shaking her head, the girl let her feet touch the carpeted ground. The spy, Alzira, claimed that a few days in the palace would help her make up her mind.

It was time to find out.

It didn't take her long to get dressed. The closet -- which clearly belonged to someone else before she moved in -- was filled with dresses, skirts, shoes, all covered in a thick layer of dust. She chose the least conspicuous; a dark blue dress, ditching the crinoline, and the most neutral black shoes she could find. They were tight, squeezing her toes together into an awkward shape, but unfitting shoes were the least of her concerns.

Some staring at the mirror and a few deep breaths later, Ela hauled the doors to her narrow room open.

Somehow, Stephano's light hair wasn't a surprising sight. Ela pulled the doors behind her closed and turned to glance at the guard. "You know, I almost pity you."

"Why is that?" he asked, his gaze unmoving as the glare of the sun.

"You have to watch over me."

The boy gave his shoulders a faint shrug. "That is my job, your Grace. I am honored to--"

"I don't want to hear the flattery," she cut off and twirled around, taking long strides across the corridor. "Keep all my limbs intact and we'll be fine."

Ela wasn't sure how, but she had to find Kage. She could feel her power brimming in her, sparks of energy tickling her fingertips. The fatigue of the factory had fled her body; her power was back and greater than before, ready to raise one, two, three more walls of crystal. If she kept idle for a few more hours, she wasn't sure who or what she would scorch to oblivion.

As she strode down corridor after corridor, the discreet yet audible thump of booted feet behind her didn't escape her. It was only natural that a guard would trail after her for at any point, yet the thought of Stephano not leaving her alone at times she would need to be irritated her more than it should have.

It didn't help that her mind was split in two. Perhaps a guard watching her every step would help scare the Flouornans off. Was that something to be grateful for or something to dread? Was this a gift from the gods or the final handful of earth in the grave of her freedom?

Her thoughts screeched to a halt at the sight of a familiar figure sauntering down the other end of the hallway.

The heels of her battered shoes dug into the rug beneath her as she came to an abrupt stop. Her brows furrowed as she examined the ceaselessly growing figure in the distance. The disheveled hair, the sly golden eyes, the thin lips curved into a small smile; she had seen that Mushan before. Her head throbbed with the beat of a thousand war drums presaging chaos in the narrow hallway, the pulse mocking her failure to remember. A sweltering feeling swelled in her chest, her body responding to the realization before her mind could.