By the Pact

Chapter 2-2

Prince Allyv sat in the corner, putting all his effort into pretending he was reading the book of Devanshari history rather than paying attention to what was going on in the cabin. The poor chamberlain didn’t need any more humiliation presenting his plea to what seemed like two of the most hardhearted people in the whole ragtag fleet. Allyv cringed at the thought that one of them was the mother he used to admire.

Cahala qi’Devanshari yawned and stretched on a pile of cushions. Her eyes skimmed past the three men in her presence, her face frozen in an expression of utter disinterest, and in that moment she resembled a spoiled child, not the queen of a once powerful nation.

“You bore us with details, chamberlain,” she said in a low, deep voice. “We will not spare any essence for other ships. They need to survive on what they took with them. Bother us no more with it.”

She waved her hand at the chamberlain, and the jewels of her ring matched the red of the chamberlain’s face. The elderly man bowed and left without a word, clearly dissatisfied, and Allyv couldn’t blame him. Even on a ship away from the ruined city and surrounded by no more than a handful of her subjects, Cahala still insisted on maintaining all the privileges and pleasures of the luxurious life now past. Maybe it was her way of ignoring the reality and pretending the months of suffering and loss had never happened, but Allyv found it hard to justify her behavior. Their people needed her more than ever, and she was turning a blind eye to their plight.

“He might stir unrest.” Phuran approached from the queen’s side as he spoke.

Allyv could never bring himself to like Phuran, no matter how much dedication to the crown that man had shown. Something in his moves reminded Allyv of a snake in the trees, slithering ever so slowly toward its victim. Before the demons attacked, gossip circled in the palace about people who displeased Cahala and then suffered mysterious accidents. Phuran’s name often accompanied those whispers along with words of caution, but no one of the court dared to speak their suspicions aloud, and Allyv never found anything to confirm his concerns.

“He’ll do what he’s told,” Cahala replied. “At least for the duration of the travel. As much as he tries to pose as strong, he needs the essence no less than anyone else. He won’t risk cutting off his own supplies. Once we reach the other continent, he might look for some other solutions… But won’t we all?”

Phuran bowed. “Some solutions might prove riskier than others, and an aging body might not take them well.”

“That would be a terrible loss to our people,” Cahala cautioned him with the wave of her finger. “We’re not only the elite now; we’re all that’s left of the Devanshari nation. We need to preserve whatever we can of our heritage until we can retake our lands or settle somewhere else.”

“Indeed, my queen.” Phuran bowed again. “This is a crucial time, and no divide should come from one man’s hurt feelings.”

Cahala smiled. “That is true. Should such need come, we will ensure that our people stay united and strong, and you will be the executioner of our decisions.”

“I live for the Light’s grace,” Phuran replied.

Allyv resisted grimacing. He would be surprised if that man had ever seen the true Light or followed any of the honorable and righteous principles that were the foundation of the Devanshari.

Phuran left the cabin, and the dark, simple robes concealed both his body and his weapons. One of the man’s arms looked stiff, but Allyv knew better than to fall for such a deception. He’d seen Phuran in a fight one night when the assassins came, and the queen’s adviser proved much less a cripple than he pretended to be. Allyv swallowed at the thought that both he and his mother owed this man their lives. It seemed ungrateful to harbor loathing instead of gratitude, but one good deed could hardly be enough to erase all other, less scrupulous deeds.

“This man does nothing but search for excuses to kill people, mother,” Allyv said, breaking the silence.

“He’s burdened with our safety. And he serves us well.”

He should have known Cahala wouldn’t listen, but the months of siege and days of sea travel brought him to the edge. “He’s turning your people against you!” His voice rose with ire. “If this continues, there won’t be anything left of Devanshari before we reach Tyorane. And who knows what challenges await us on that savage continent?”

Cahala rose from her cushions and stared into his eyes. “There’s nothing left of the Devanshari already,” she said. “Look around you! A lousy fleet of ships full of merchants scared for their lives and a few of the court members who were smart enough to leave on time.”

Or rather, who had enough money to pay for the passage while others couldn’t, Allyv didn’t dare say aloud. His mother was as fierce in her anger as she was beautiful in her grace.

“But you gave them hope! You promised we’d go to Gildya to build a new Hajihali! And with it, we’ll build our new home.” Allyv’s own voice sounded weak to him, as if he wasn’t a young man ready to face the responsibilities, but a complaining child.

“And go to Gildya we will.” Cahala’s expression softened. She touched his face, and a warm hue changed the icy blue of her eyes. “But first, we need to ensure our survival. With your father gone, you’re our people’s future. We want that future to be strong and confident, not starved from lack of the essence because we supported some lowlife merchants.”

Allyv wanted to break away from her hand, to shout his disobedience, but all he could muster was “I understand,” because he understood that if he were to do nothing for his people, there would be no future for Devanshari, no future for him. Just a king with no land and no people. His mother, so wrapped up in her own pleasure and survival, had forgotten that ruling meant more.

Cahala nodded, and Allyv turned away, unable to endure her smug, satisfied smile. While she lay back on the cushions, sipping wine and playing with her necklace, he stood up.

“I’ll go for some air and leave you to your thoughts, Mother.” He needed to get away from her poisonous words before he lost the last crumbs of hope he’d clung to since the fall of the capital.

“Go.” She barely paid any attention to him.

Allyv left and made his way to the upper deck, forcing uneasy smiles whenever a member of the crew or servant walked by, all concerned and searching for reassurances. Outside, salty wind filled his lungs with the odor of fish and seaweed. Was that what sailors’ freedom smelled like? Their weathered faces and tanned skin mislead him at first, but they were also of the Devanshari people. Yet they seemed to do without the essence. If they could survive away from the Light’s power, maybe there was a way to cure his people of their affliction. Maybe there was no need to build a new Hajihali and once more bind Devanshari to an artifact that lured the demons toward their lands.

The memory of Hajihali’s warming light and its gentle magic seeping through his homelands, protecting the Devanshari and bringing health and prosperity, filled Allyv with longing. His stomach clenched in the familiar craving, because even the essence, the liquid-like concentrate of Hajihali’s light, couldn’t substitute the feeling of the artifact’s ambient power. Rebuilding Hajihali seemed the most logical solution… but it felt like repeating the very mistakes that brought misery and destruction upon the Devanshari. If he wanted his nation to truly be free, he needed to take another path, a more difficult one.

“We need to find the cure,” he whispered. The wind carried his words away the moment they slipped from his lips, as if sealing a promise, and Allyv finally realized his purpose.