ONIUM | Open Novella Contest 2020

Chapter 11: Trust isn't Given

"I don't think you can help me." Quinnley picked at invisible fibers on her skirt.

The heat in Vivian's soul dissolved at the admission. Was she so disappointing as Onium that Quinnley didn't dare ask for her help? Never in her life had Vivian wanted to prove someone more wrong. "You did not track Onium down and coerce him into speaking with you for his philosophical views on life and death. You need Onium for his skills. Despite what you may think, I am still here and waiting for your request."

"I cannot ask it of you knowing the price it will cost."

"That is for me to decide, not you."

Quinnley sighed. Her eyes locked onto Vivian's, conveying a depth of her conviction that sent tingles up the princess's spine. "I'm going to kill the King."

Her words filled the space like a flood before sucking the oxygen out of the room. Vivian stilled at the admission, spoken with such passion and vehemence. "The King?"

The princess was well aware that her father was a vile man who deserved to die. Though she abhorred killing, she considered disposing of him herself many times. There were just some men too evil to let live, and Finis Gale was at the top of her list. It did not matter that he was her father, her time away from the castle taught her that what they shared was no familial relationship.

"Yes the King." Confirmed Quinnley.

What surprised Vivian was that the witch wanted to kill him. There were not many outside of the King's inner circle who knew how much of a role he played in Pandem's plight. No common orphan should know enough about the King's plans to want him dead. In fact, most thought he was fighting to fix Pandem's problems thanks to various scenarios like Midest's.

The royal eyed the other girl, whose green eyes held fire. The need to protect and nurture that spark bubbled in Vivan's stomach. Why did Quinnley's every facial expression make her want to feel her olive skin again?

"Why?" Vivian needed to proceed with caution. Quinnley was like dry kindling, capable of taking a spark and feeding it into a raging inferno. If Vivian wasn't careful, the girl would only leave ashes in her wake.

The girl's knuckles turned white as she clenched her fists. "He is evil. People may have forgotten the terror of the Culling, but it is still an open wound for me. I cannot help but imagine how my life would be different if he had not started hunting down my kind for no reason. I might have parents. I could live every day without fear of discovery. I would have been able to learn how to control whatever is inside of me instead of hurting people."

"A lot of people took part in the Culling." Vivian said, having no memory of the event herself. She had been born a year after the genocide ended, but remembered some of the older chaos agents boasting of their feats. "Why not go after them?"

"Because he ordered it. He forced it to happen. Only a madman would allow the wonton murder of his own people. I have a theory as well." Quinnley said. "It makes no sense that Pandem is worse than the day he killed the last Gifted. The country is in just as much turmoil nearly twenty years later. I thought you of all people would understand. Someone is propagating chaos in Pandem. There are too many bad events in this country that have no explanation."

Her hands waved around her head as she explained. "Crime never disappears, it just moves into a different region. No one notices because they can't afford to travel very far. Even the huge caravans don't stay in place long enough to see the pattern. The only improvement in people's quality of life came after Onium began his attacks on the nobility. The only reason I noticed the pattern is because I followed your trail for so long."

The little witch was so close it was eerie. Perhaps dowsing led her in the right direction, but Vivian had never met anyone smart enough to connect the dots on their own. She was in awe of the little spitfire in front of her.