ETERNITY, COUNCIL. EPILOGUE.

Epilogue

It was an obnoxiously good day, Icarus decided. In fact, it was so very obnoxious that the birds outside were singing and the koi pond was sparkling. Yume wanted to go on a picnic, so he obliged, making bread-crust snacks and buying enough boxes of fruit juice to last a siege. Hito was looking for the picnic blanket somewhere in the house, and Shin was trying to learn a last-minute song on his banjo.

Yes, banjo.

Naturally, Shuichi was fast asleep, and Megumi, after failing to wake him up, had disappeared as well.

Presently, the doorbell rang. Icarus went to open thinking it must be the mailman who was dropping off something he had ordered about a week previously – more metal, in fact, for some more weapons, for Shin’s rapier had broken…again.

Icarus wondered exactly what Shin did with his rapier, and then opened the door.

Fleance smiled back up at him.

The smile slid off his face.

“Is Hito here?” Fleance chirped, as another girl – Four? Icarus wondered curiously – showed up with two giant bags of…something. Fleance smiled as if he’d never caused Hito to leave and come back.

“What do you want?” Icarus snapped, remembering the whole Council ordeal. It had been…oh…a long time, he thought. Maybe a few decades.

“Just get Hito, rude man,” Fleance snapped back, losing the smile. Icarus rolled his eyes and yelled up the stairs for Hito. Hito trudged down the stairs, his shirt on backwards, looking as if he’d pulled a Shuichi and fallen asleep.

Then he saw Fleance.

Fleance smiled a la Shin. Icarus felt his fingers twitch, a little. Maybe his face melted a little, too. “Hi, Hito! Your shirt is on backwards.”

“I see,” Hito replied absently, staring at his shirt but not noticing any difference. “Why are you here? With Four?”

“That’s not Four; that’s Lia,” Fleance said. “And anyways, I said I’d pay you back, so…”

“How are you planning to pay him back?” Icarus asked, twitching.

“We bought a life’s supply o Belgian chocolate – a human life,” Fleance said. Lia nodded. “And an aquarium full of fish!”

“An aquarium –” Icarus repeated a little helplessly.

“ – of fish, yes,” Fleance said patiently, with the air of having just won the lottery. Hito opened his mouth to say something, but as he couldn’t think of anything to say (he wasn’t sure if Fleance was joking or serious, actually), he closed it again.

Inside the aquarium, the fish all copied him.

Fleance looked curiously from Icarus to Hito to the fish. Silence reigned throughout the room. Finally, Hito realize that Fleance was being serious. He coughed. “Thank you, Fleance.”

Fleance beamed.

Then, Icarus mumbled something that could have been either “thank you” or something less polite. Fleance stopped beaming and frowned. Rude man, indeed! “What’d you say, rude man?”

“Thank you,” Icarus growled, as Yume came in, looking startled and then astonished and then rather cheerful.

“One!”

“Fleance,” he corrected, “You remember me!”

Icarus looked livid.

“How are you?” Yume asked, looking from him to Lia. Lia smiled nervously and dropped the life’s supply of Belgian chocolate. It thudded into the living room floor. With a thud.

“I’m pretty good!” Fleance replied, “And you? You’re prettier than I remembered!”

Icarus seethed, raising a fist, but Hito held the fist down with a Look. Icarus calmed down slightly, but then his face flared red as Yume giggled.

“What’s all this fuss?” Shin asked, coming down the stairs, and then stopping short. “Who’re you?”

“Who’s that?” Fleance asked.

“That’s Shin,” Yume said, “Shin, this is Fleance – One.”

“Who?”

“Council One,” Icarus growled. Shin blinked, and then smiled dazzlingly at Fleance. Fleance smiled dazzlingly back. Everyone looked away as the light reflected off two very white sets of vampire teeth.

“Hito?” Megumi asked, also coming down the stairs, also looking extremely sleepy, “I couldn’t find the – the – what’s happening?” she asked, frowning at Fleance, “Have I seen you before?”

“Yeah, I’m Fleance!”

“Ohh…wait…what?”

Megumi processed this fact for a while. “How long has it been?”

“I dunno,” Fleance shrugged, “I’m here to drop some stuff off for Hito.”

“Stuff?” Icarus ground out.

“Stuff!”

Megumi stared at Fleance, then at Hito, and then suddenly she smiled, too, a smile not unlike Shin’s. Everyone looked away as they realized exactly how much like Shin she really could be. Icarus felt himself twitching some more.

“Anyways, I said I’d pay Hito back, and we’re getting ready to leave the port this evening, so I should get going,” Fleance said, a little bemused but still smiling largely, “Let’s go, Lia! Bye!”

“Port? Port?” Icarus shrieked, “What are you, a pirate?”

Fleance’s smile grew. Pirate.

*

“Something smells weird about the living room,” Shuichi commented later in the evening, the picnic forgotten as everyone suddenly started reminiscing about the Council, all except for him, who had slept until now.

“Yes, we had a…visit,” Icarus muttered.

“A visit?” Shuichi frowned.

“One came by and dropped off a fish-tank,” Hito said in his usual monotone.

“I see,” Shuichi nodded.

Everyone else exchanged glances and waited for him to explode.

Shuichi exploded. “WHAT?”

*

The Liberty set sail at the crack of dusk, as Fleance sat on the lookout post and ate the other half of his Belgian chocolate. Japan was awfully pretty from the air, with the lights and the flashing, but there was only one place that he’d really ever call home – Scotland.

END.

ETERNITY, COUNCIL. PART SIXTEEN.

XVI

 

Someone slipped on the stairs on the way up, and tripped, and scraped his arm. Three knew this, because the smell of blood reached him, vampire’s blood, a thousand times stronger than the scent of human blood. Three decided to make his move, decided that whoever was stupid enough to find him probably wasn’t the Takeda boy, and at any rate, it’d be easier to finish off his family, like rubbing salt into the wound.

He stepped out of the room, poison in his eyes.

Someone nearly walked into him, someone that made his eyes glint. It was the lover girl, Takahashi’s lover, her face hardened into an expression that did not fit her in the least. What was her name? Three didn’t remember, and he didn’t care. She would be the first one to go; a quick swipe of his sword would finish her off nice and clean. He let his lips curl. “Well, well, what have we here?”

The female said nothing, glaring. Her face was not suited to glare, he could tell just by looking. Her face was suited to soft-molded romantic gazing, which was probably how she spent most of her time with her lover.

“A little lover girl,” he continued amiably, “All alone and lost…”

…but not really alone.

“Which means the rest of you are here too,” he finished coldly.

“I’m not afraid of you,” the female replied, but her voice shook even as she uttered the syllables, and it made him laugh, a short, harsh laugh. Oh, how hard was she trying to be brave?

“Of course…you are very brave,” he assented, although derision seeped from every word. “How would you like to go, then? Slowly, to show me the rest of your courage?”

The girl lunged at him, quick but unstable, with her pitifully tiny daggers. Seriously, daggers? Three found this both amusing and ridiculous – if they sent anyone into battle with daggers, it was about as close to non-consensual suicide as they could get.

“Answer me,” Three prompted with another laugh, easier this time. Her reply was to jab viciously at him – she was out of practice. He shrugged her away without effort and managed to slice a gash into her arm. She screamed, not even bothering to put up a front. He frowned – well, this was no fun now, was it?

Still, better to be done with it, and then he could move on. “Simple,” he said, almost languidly, raising the dagger high, enjoying the fear and pain shining in her eyes. Big eyes, too, and purple – very beautiful eyes, if he may say so. It was a pity they would be extinguished in a moment –

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?” with a roar, Takahashi himself appeared, brushing aside his sword as if it were a toothpick. Three stepped back, leaving the girl lying weak on the floor.

“Hello, boy, I was wondering when I’d get to defeat you.” At last – a worthy opponent. He grinned. A competent sword smith, at least, was someone who knew how to fight, as opposed to the porcelain doll of a girl who was now biting her lips trying not to cry.

Well, that strained expression didn’t suit her face any better that the glares, so Three decided to give her a little prod. “Tell me, lover…d’you know how your parents really died?”

As expected, she burst into tears, and at the same time, Takahashi Icarus leapt at him. Three turned to face his enemy, head-on, at last.

*

Kazimir was born in the snowy northern corner of Russia, a bright, overly sensitive little boy with the cheeriest green eyes anyone had seen, and a head of golden hair. He was a bright, sensitive boy with a weak mother and a drunkard father, and combined with the harshness of the long Russian winters, this meant that his life was horrible. His father beat him every day, and his mother cried, and his older sister Katya who was about ten years older married at the age of sixteen, and then left home and never came back.

What did Kazimir do to relieve his stress? He had only learned one way of letting off his anger – through physical brutality. By the time he was ten, he was no longer a bright, sensitive, beautiful child. He swore and yelled like his father did, at his mother, at his sister who abandoned him to live with his cruel father, at the wall, the snow, Russia, everyone who dared object to him. Most people objected to him.

When he was thirteen, he killed a man.

When he was fourteen, he left home and vowed to never return.

When he was sixteen, working as a bartender, he learned that his father had killed his mother by pushing her head through a window. He was furious. When he was seventeen years old, he returned home, ignored his father’s apologies and promises to stop drinking, he killed his father. He called it “justified” and left the house whistling merrily. He never lost a night’s sleep over it.

Maybe something broke then. Maybe his soul broke. He unconsciously stopped praying, stopped going to church. The cold numbed his feelings and his mind and he worked and worked until nothing anyone said affected him at all. Any discrepancies were dealt with violence, matches that he always won. When Kazimir was twenty years old, he learned that his sister was dead, too, drowned in a river while carrying her baby. That tie, his last tie, snapped with a painful crack and from that moment on he denied having any family at all, ever.

“You must have had parents,” someone pointed out to him when he was twenty-two. “Everyone has parents.”

“Tools,” was his reply.

When Kazimir was twenty-six years old, he left Russian to go to the Slavic lands further west, where he found enough work to occupy his thoughts. He saw heavily decorated Viking ships sail powerfully from their ports and wondered if he would ever have the same power.

When Kazimir was thirty years old, he stopped counting the years and decided to live by days instead. That way, he reasoned, time seemed to go on forever. He settled for a while in the northernmost reaches of the Roman Empire, making himself useful as a local official, and enjoyed killing anyone who decided to break a law. He broke at least a dozen of them a week.

When he was thirty-seven years old, time stopped.

*

“You are pitiful, all of you,” Three – Kazimir said in quiet scorn. His sword was inches from the boy’s chest, inches, and he snuck a glance at the girl. She had her eyes covered, sobbing into her hands.

“SHUT. THE FUCK. UP.”

“Watch your language,” Kazimir chuckled, stabbing down, but at that instant the boy rolled over, so that instead of the neat jab, a deep gash appeared across his chest, blood spewing out like water. Takahashi barely registered himself getting wounded, but sprung up and they went at it again like a pair of young bulldogs.

“You missed,” Kazimir grinned as Icarus indeed missed his cheek by half an inch. “Are you brave enough to kill, boy?”

“I –”

“He’s brave enough to do anything!” the girl snapped out, on her feet and running at him, daggers in hand. Kazimir was distracted enough to parry her, fighting her back down to the floor.

“Are you stupid?” the boy yelled at her, “Get out of the way!”

“Too late,” Kazimir flashed his sword quickly, saw the lover close her eyes in anticipation – oh, he was going to enjoy watching her die, and in the boy’s arms, too – there was a loud scream and a muffled,

“Didn’t I tell you to get out of the way?”

A second gash had joined the first on Takahashi’s chest. His eyes fluttered for a moment.

“Icarus –” she whispered fearfully.

Takahashi swayed for a minute on the ground, and Kazimir made no move, watching, waiting to see what would happen. For a second he thought the boy’s hands went lax, and he smiled, turning his attentions to the girl.

“Well, now that that is out of the way,” he began cheerfully, only to hear a rustle, a sudden loud pounding in his ears, and then –

*

He had been going about business as usual, only delayed about an hour because a report had gotten lost. It was precious hour, though, for when he was finished the sun had set and the brilliant northern sky, with all its stars, was not enough to light the way home. In the cold, Kazimir wore only the barest of shirts, for physical labor kept his muscles warm and sometimes – if he was in a good mood – he let himself take a girl home…

A man was standing in front of him, maybe ten years or so younger.

“What do you want?” Kazimir asked impatiently.

The man was smiling, red eyes flashing at him in the darkness. Immoral as he may have become, something about those eyes sent chills climbing up his spine.

“I said,” Kazimir repeated, his Russian accent thick, “What do you want?”

In the darkness, something glinted bright and white.

It was after he’d woken up that he realized that they were fangs.

*

“Pay up, Three,” the boy’s face came to him in a sea of red, “Your time has ended. Stopped.”

“It stopped…a long…time…”

Ago.

There was a burning all along his neck, except he didn’t know he had a neck, and then his brain wasn’t registering the pain anymore, just red, and red, and black, and then – and then there was –

There wasn’t –

*

His time was up.

Fleance sat idly on his over-decorated chair, staring at nothing in particular, waiting for his death to come. Three was dead – he knew this because he heard it – they had won the game. They had won. Three was dead. Now, it was his turn. He wasn’t really sad – not really. He would miss Four. He would almost miss Hito, too. But he thought about Arthur, and he thought about the blue sky above, and he felt strangely…prepared for whatever was bound to happen.

The door opened.

Fleance smiled weakly. Hito was armed – he had never seen Hito armed before. But what different was it now?

There was only death. He was convinced now – death was the only solution to all these troubles. “If you’re going to kill me, do it fast.”

There, it was said. Hito didn’t move or speak. The awful emptiness of the room, devoid of the warm, breathing people it had once contained, bore down on him like a waterfall. Everyone was gone – if Four was smart, which she was, she would have run like he told her to run. There was nothing left.

“I have nothing left,” Fleance stated to say when Hito still didn’t speak.

“And I’ve messed everything up.”

“Nothing turned out the way I wanted it to, and now I don’t even have Arthur anymore!”

Maybe he did still have Arthur, but never again in the same way. When had they fallen this far? In the beginning, all he wanted was a companion…

“Run,” Hito said quietly.

For a moment, Fleance didn’t hear him. But it was suddenly like someone had replayed the tape in his ear, and he looked up, startled, not even crying now. To his infinite surprise, Hito threw down his sword.

Threw down his sword.

He was giving him a way out. For a moment, Fleance was struck by a mad desire to hug him and sob at his feet. But he steeled himself – crying was over and done, now. He had to be strong, for – for Arthur. For Four, too. “But – where do I go?” his voice came out scared and weak. Stupid voice.

“Anywhere you want – anywhere at all,” Hito replied, with the barest hint of a smile. Heaven, said Fleance’s mind. Candyland. Away. Somewhere.

He took a step forward and then looked back. There were more words to be said, words that he had said only to Arthur before –

“Hito, if we ever meet again, I’ll pay you back. The right way, this time.”

“If you can’t find anywhere else to go, we’ll take you in.”

Oh, Hito. He was overdoing this now. Fleance shook his head – he would never be able to live with himself if that happened. He would move on and move forwards and make Arthur proud. Arthur. The name was enough to make him smile, just slightly.

“Don’t go through the gardens,” Hito warned, “Gumi’s there – waiting.”

Fleance nodded slowly, and then he turned.

He ran.

*

Lia stared, and stared at the door that would lead her to freedom and to safety. What was going on up there? She could not hear a thing, and she obviously couldn’t see a thing, nor smell. Be patient, she had told herself a million times. But she felt like hours had passed, and still One did not show.

Was he dead?

But it couldn’t be – he said she would know if he was dead – but then how could he have known how she would know –

“Four!”

“AAAAH!” she shrieked, leaping up and whirling around and suddenly finding herself looking at One, pale and tired but alive. “You – you –”

“He let me go,” Fleance said, as if he still couldn’t believe it. “He let me go…”

“You’re safe,” Lia said numbly, not hearing any of it, stooping down and gathering him into her arms like she had wanted to do with Leo so many years ago. “Safe and you’re never making me wait like this again, right?”

“Safe,” Fleance nodded, patting her awkwardly on the back. “Let’s go.”

“Go where?” she asked, mystified.

“Out. Away. Let’s go see the world, Four, as it really is, and not as an oyster,” Fleance declared. Lia contemplated this.

“Do you – do you really want me to –”

“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t ask.”

“R-right.”

Fleance looked around the room, and then at Lia, and then he asked, a little impatiently, a little more like his old self, “Well?”

Lia looked around the room as well, the last place she would see before leaving this nightmare. “One – one thing,” she started.

“Anything!”

“Please don’t ever call me Four again. My name,” she said slowly, “Is Lia.”

“Lia like –”

“Rosalia,” how many decades had it been since she’d spoken it?

“Rosalia,” he repeated, and then his face broke into a wide smile, “Well, Lia, my name is Fleance!”

 

wordcount: 2430

ETERNITY, COUNCIL. PART FIFTEEN.

XV

 

They are coming, and everything will be alright. Everything will be righted. Hito leaned against the wall, closing his eyes and opening his mouth as if he could feel Irina with him still. We will set things right and go home, and never become separated again.

He knew Three was waiting for him to show himself, and he knew Three knew he was waiting for Three to show himself. Neither of them was willing to make the first move, because whoever made the first move would give the advantage to the other one. Neither was willing to sacrifice another piece of the game, because for Three, it would be himself. Hito was frozen to the wall, unmoving. There was one thing he could do, and that was wait. Wait, wait, wait. The seconds stretched across time like eons. Long, endless eons passed by in seconds.

He was weaponless. He did not dare go into the armory for fear of Three being there, although there would be numerous swords at his disposal. Without someone to help him, there was no chance of possibly defeating Three. If Arthur was alive, maybe…Hito recalled with a frown that Arthur had been the only one on earth who could have beaten Three in a fair fight.

But Arthur was dead.

Out of all the…Hito shook his head vehemently. Dwelling on how Arthur had died was not going to help him at all. He had to clear his head and think about how he was going to kill Three – how he was going to avoid being killed by Three and failing Irina.

They are coming, and everything will be alright.

Everything will be righted.

Everything.

Irina.

“Don’t push yourself,” he thought he heard her say.

The door opened, creaking.

Hito straightened, his eyes wide open, listening.

Footsteps approached: a whole bunch of footsteps that could not possibly belong to one solitary figure.

And then the rustle of clothes and the soft tinkling of metal reached his ears, the type of metal that only Icarus would know how to work with. Hito exhaled, half smiling and yet a little sad, stepping out into the light. “You came,” he said, more of a gasp and a breath than a firm statement.

He saw Icarus, looking determined, Shin and Shuichi, a little overwhelmed by the castle, Yume, shaking a little but firm, and Megumi, back in this nightmare place where Arthur had been killed. None of them smiled. “You all really came,” he repeated, incredulously, unable to believe this.

They could not have come at a worse time, he thought. Not now, when everyone in this castle was in danger, including them.

“Where is everybody?” surprisingly, Shuichi was the first to speak. Hito shook his head.

“Three is hiding. God knows where. He’ll probably know you’re here, now. One’s…I haven’t seen One in a while, truth be told. And Four’s hiding out somewhere too.” Where, indeed, was Four? She had been missing for days. But Hito was more focused on the fact that his family was really here, really ready to fight for him, and the simple truth of it roared in his brain.

When he came back into the moment, Icarus was making plans, like he always did. “Alright, I’ll search upstairs, and you and Shin can search downstairs, and Hito, you can –”

“I’ll go look for One,” Hito said, realizing that he wasn’t the one for face Three. Not him. He was never meant to be Three’s opponent; it was Icarus that must fight him, because Three was the start of all his anguish and loneliness, which must be repaid. Hito’s business was with One – Fleance – the child that had started it all when he changed the life of the Crown Prince of England.

Icarus nodded, the strain of his job already weighing down on him. But he shouldered the weight responsibly, and turned to the girls. “You two should go back to the city and wait for us there.”

Icarus the chivalrous one, Hito remembered.

“Icarus!” it wasn’t Gumi, but rather Yume, who spoke out with a frown. “I didn’t come to –”

“I was thinking!” Gumi said, although it sounded more like the words were being ripped out of her, “Maybe…maybe I could go visit him.”

Arthur.

“His body is not buried,” Hito said softly. He didn’t say anything more, though. He didn’t mention how broken up the rest of them were when Arthur had died, either, because he didn’t want her to start crying, and what good would that do any of them, then?

“I guess I was expecting something like that,” Gumi sighed with a small smile, a sad smile. “I’ll go patrol the gardens, then, to make sure they don’t – don’t escape.”

“Take Yume with you,” Icarus said. Gumi nodded in agreement, and Yume didn’t argue at that.

There is a dead silence as everyone processed the plan and committed it to memory. The whole moment felt so disconnected that Hito was sure it was a dream, because nothing in real life could feel so surreal. Maybe Irina wasn’t really dead. Maybe he had never met Irina in the first place, maybe –

“And don’t any of you come back without their heads,” Icarus said, quietly.

*

“Four!” a loud whisper pierced trough the room, startling Lia, making her jump up in surprise. had Three found her?

But it was only Fleance, who poked his head in through the doorway, a little disappointed that she had not locked the door, and who looked extremely serious, much closer to his real age than his physical one. “I need to talk to you,” he said quickly. “We’re under attack.”

“Under –” Lia looked fearfully at hi. Her whole life had been dominated by fear, Fleance thought. It was horrendously painful to think about.

“Attack,” he said with false calm, “So listen to me. Hito – Seven’s family is here, and he’s going to look for me. And if I – die – you have to run. Do you understand?”

“If,” she started, her voice several pitches higher than normal.

Fleance walked over to the wall facing the door, and with a strained expression, poked at a few seemingly random bricks. The wall opened up smoothly, showing another passage, one that was lighted by the –

Sun.

“Promise,” he said, looking at her with his child’s eyes. “Promise me, Four. You’re going to run from here, and go somewhere far away so that Three will never find you, and don’t ever come back. Don’t you dare come back!”

“I – I promise,” she said, nodding her head. Then, suddenly, “You’re not going to die.”

Fleance said nothing, just looked at her. Lia felt like breaking something, until he finally spoke in a heavy tone, in a weary tone. “I don’t know. I really don’t…look at what happened with Arthur. I can’t tell you anything about it.”

“You’re not,” Lia repeated. Please don’t.

“I have to go,” Fleance said, abruptly turning and leaving without a backwards glance. “You promised,” she heard his voice floating down to her. Lia watched him go, and although she wanted to stop him she did not call out. She sent mental prayers after him, wishing that he would stay safe. He was her last tie to the world, one that she treasured preciously.

With a sudden wave of fear she realized that this was what a mother felt like when sending a son off into war.

*

In another part of the castle, Three was waiting. He was waiting for one of them to find him, and he was ready to face them. And after he killed them all, without mercy, he would find the little nuisance that had been against him the whole time and kill him too. And after that happened, then he would set his sights on his bigger goals.

Paris, first.

Rome, next.

Madrid.

Istanbul.

Then –

Delhi.

He would work his way across the Middle East, ending up at Beijing. Tokyo, Seoul.

And he would continue to go east, crossing the ocean, ending up in the new world, where he would take California and Denver and Austin, and Chicago and New York and then finally the capital of the new world, Washington DC.

And only when he had accomplished that, he would reconstruct the Council, from scratch. But for now, he would figure out how to take out the troublesome Takedas.

He did not have to worry about Takeda Hito, who was a weakling and could be easily defeated. He did not have to worry about Two’s lover, either, who only fought well with words instead of swords, and he worried the least about the other girl, the Takahashi boy’s lover, who was basically another Four.

He was most anticipating of Takahashi Icarus himself – not worried, just curious, he told himself constantly.

It won’t take a minute, he thought, making the motions of slashing heads off. He had two swords beneath his shirt, two daggers up his sleeve, one in each shoe. He would be fine. Fine, fine.

Who would be the one to find him?

*

Padre nostro che sei nei cieli,
sia santificato il tuo nome;
venga il tuo regno;
sia fatta la tua volontà,
come in cielo così in terra.
Dacci oggi il nostro pane quotidiano,
e rimetti a noi i nostri debiti
come noi li rimettiamo ai nostri debitori,
e non ci indurre in tentazione,
ma liberaci dal male.

All throughout the castle, they were waiting. Lia was waiting, too, trying to decide when she was supposed to run and how long she was going to stay or how she was going to know if One was dead or alive.

“Have confidence,” she told herself.

A minute later –

“He’s not going to die.”

Another minute –

“Stop doubting him.”

It wasn’t grief that would kill her, she decided. It was suspense. The suspense was going to drive her insane and then she’d kill herself in her insanity. Suppose she went to help him? If Fleance should ever see her –

Be patient, she thought, eyes closing.

She would wait.

 

wordcount: 1680

ETERNITY, COUNCIL. PART FOURTEEN.

XIV

Christmas.

Christmas like Fleance had never known it before. Three had not bothered getting any sort of Christmas decorations, so he and Irina and Hito had gotten up in the middle of the night and filled the main hallway with candles. Come daylight, though, the light did not show up like it was supposed to, and Three, after accidentally tipping one over and setting the carpet on fire, had them all smothered out with their fingertips. All three of them now sat by the fire while Three went to do business, nursing their blackened fingers and glaring into the flames.

“I miss Arthur,” Fleance muttered. Irina, instead of glaring, touched his hand lightly.

“Cheer up; he’s probably watching us right now.”

“Remember that one time we brought the human over?” Fleance asked suddenly. Irina looked over to Hito, who had started at the word ‘human’ and was now staring at Fleance intently.

“Human?” Hito mouthed. Irina looked around nervously to make sure Three hadn’t come home, and nodded.

“It was just after the war,” she whispered as Fleance blinked and then toppled over, fast asleep. “1945, the end…”

*

Christmas, 1945.

When the rest of the world was clearing up the ruins and nursing its wounds, the castle in Scotland, blissfully ignorant of its surroundings, was going about in the usual way. Arthur and Fleance and a very drunk British soldier were belting out Christmas songs at the top of their lungs, while Irina let off her steam through setting off firecrackers, Lia was cleaning the kitchen without being told to do so, and Three was passed out on the floor above so that he wouldn’t hear another verse of “God Rest Ye, Merry Gentlemen.”

“Was this the face that launched a thousand ships,” the soldier – Johnson – cried out, throwing his arms around Arthur and Fleance to indicate the thousand ships, and then slumped over.

“Look, he’s asleep,” Fleance giggled.

“He is,” Arthur nodded. They exchanged a glance over the body.

“Let’s decorate him with Christmas lights,” Fleance suggested, grinning over his apple cider.

“Alright,” Arthur proceeded to strip the tree, but Fleance stopped him, disappearing and reappearing with a box of lights. Arthur stared for a moment. “When did we get that?”

“Three bought me some!” Fleance said happily.

“Oh,” Arthur frowned.

*

“You decorated a war soldier with Christmas lights?” Hito asked dubiously. Irina shrugged.

“It wasn’t me, it was them,” she said defensively.

*

“What are we supposed to do now?” Fleance asked, “Should we eat him?”

Arthur looked shocked. “No! He just came home from a war!”

“So we’re letting him go?”

“He has a family, One,” Arthur reminded him, tapping his foot.

“Oh…alright,” Fleance sighed, his hair flying up with the sigh, “But can he keep the Christmas lights, at least?”

*

“You know what we do, at home?” Hito asked, wisely dropping the subject.

“What?” she asked eagerly.

“Well…first, Yume goes out Christmas shopping,” Hito said, shaking his head, “She buys new lights every year, and new stockings, and enough candy to last another world war. And she buys so many presents for charity – about half of the donations come from us alone – and then on the 20^th we all decorate the house.”

“What’s charity?” Irina asked.

“People who can’t afford presents – we give them charity so they can give something to their friends,” Hito said in surprise.

“Oh…how…nice…”

“Icarus keeps a tree in his forge,” Hito said, with a raised eyebrow.

“His forge?”

“He made all our weapons,” Hito said quietly, “Our swords all came from my brother.”

“Seriously?” astonishment caught in her voice, bringing out the Russian tint.

“Yep. Icarus would drag the tree out – I honestly don’t know how it keeps alive in the first place – and Shin and Shuichi decorate it. Actually, Shin decorates it, and Shuichi has to cook dinner with Yume.”

“Shuichi is the…lazy one?” Irina recalled.

“Yes,” Hito smiled. “He is surprisingly easy to get along with.”

“Because he’s asleep all the time?” Irina asked, rolling her eyes.

Hito laughed out loud. “You remind me of Megumi sometimes.”

“Really?” there was an edge to her voice.

“She would say the same thing,” he said hastily, but changed the topic again, leaning closer to her. “Should I continue?”

“Go on,” Irina said grudgingly.

“Shin decorates the tree, while Icarus goes to hammer the lights onto the roof and walls of our house,” Hito said. “Megumi shovels the snow and if she’s in a good mood, she builds a snow sculpture.”

“By herself?”

“No, no, Icarus helps her. Sometimes.”

“I see.”

“Shin goes out to help her, too,” Hito remembered, “Shin is a…he’s very…well, he has a lot of images in his head, he just doesn’t really know how to express them. But they make the grounds of our castle look very nice and magical.”

“Like wonderland?”

“I suppose,” he replied. “But inside, it’s warmer…and if Shuichi keeps the fire going it’s just as nice. He forgot one year, and we couldn’t light it up again, and we all froze.”

“Poor you,” Irina said, shaking her head.

Hito saw her lips curl, though, and continued. “Icarus and Yume always claim the spot next to the fire, and Shuichi always gets the largest couch, until Shin and Megumi make him move. They’re always together, the three of them, you know…”

“So what do you do?” Irina asked.

Hito shrugged. “I help wherever I can.”

“And where do you go?”

“Into the darkest corner of the room,” he admitted.

“Not good,” she said, frowning at him.

Hito mirrored her frown for a moment, then looked nervously at the fire, and then back at her, and then to Fleance, who was still asleep. “Come here,” he said quietly.

“What?”

“Come on,” he repeated, tugging her out of her chair and onto his lap. “You know, this is kind of how Icarus and –”

“But not as good as us, right?” Irina asked, cutting him off.

Hito stared down into her face, at how the firelight seemed to turn her eyes into liquid. “Not as good,” he agreed.

“Hito,” she said after a moment.

“What?”

“What if – what if we left, now?”

“Now?”

“Three is gone, Four is gone, and we could carry him,” she looked over at Fleance. Hito looked tempted for a moment, and then shook his head.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“They’re coming,” he said, looking straight into her eyes, “My family.”

“What?”

“I should have told you sooner –”

“Why didn’t you trust me?”

“I wasn’t sure…Three knows…”

“Three?”

“It’s Christmas,” Hito said insistently. “We’ll be safe, Irina. They’re coming…”

Irina sighed. “Alright, then,” she said, letting her head rest into the crook of his neck. “You’re warm.”

“I am?”

“It’s nice,” she said.

Hito didn’t say anything, but his arms wrapped around her, warm and safe.

*

The morning after.

They were all in a daze, the previous night having gone on like a golden, glorious dream that would never come back. Fleance fell into his cereal at least three times, confused and lost and scared. Irina was staring off into the distance at something only she could see, and Hito was staring blankly at her, tapping his finger once in a while on the table, while Three, the victorious one, hummed behind his morning paper. No one saw how Three’s eyes narrowed in on Hito’s face.

“Seven?”

Hito’s eyes caught Three’s eyes – blood red ones meeting coppery rusty ones. He stood up, scooting the chair backwards quickly so that it screeched against the floor. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“Seven, how about a walk with me? You look like you need a bit of fresh air…wouldn’t you say…Fleance?” Three looked at Fleance, whose head jerked up, who looked at Hito and then at Three.

“Seven can do what – what he wants,” Fleance muttered, head hitting the table again as his eyelids drooped in exhaustion and sustained fear.

Three grinned, a wild, feral grin, as he stepped outside and Hito followed, and then abruptly his grin dropped off his face like a dagger sinking into the floor. Foolish boy, he thought contemptuously. “I know what you are planning, Takeda Hito.”

The boy didn’t say anything in return, and Three felt a prickle of irritation running down his spine. Why wouldn’t Takeda Hito say a word? “Whatever revenge you are planning to take, abandon it now, or else I’ll destroy your entire family, and you will have nothing left.”

That, at least, got a reaction. Hito’s eyes narrowed into slits of rubies, and his fist clenched inadvertently at his side. Three tried hard not to show any signs of triumph. He had been right – the Takeda boy had been working for his family the whole time, with the one intention of destroying the Council – and he had found the stoic, emotionless Takeda Hito’s weak spot.

“You wouldn’t dare touch them,” Hito growled, low, and even while he was exulting in cold satisfaction he was taken aback by the controlled anger in the boy’s tone.

“I’d like to see you stop me,” Three sneered back.

For a split second, they were frozen in motion and place like ice blocks. And then Three sprang forward, in an action that could only be described as feline, his fingers ready to claw Hito’s eyes out. The only thing that saved Hito was his age – he dodged, even faster if that was possible, swinging Three around and causing him to miss, but getting hit in the process. The two fell back into stance, panting and glaring.

“You will regret the day you decided to defy me, Takeda Hito. I wonder who I should destroy first. That boy, Takahashi, perhaps?”

Hito’s eyes were almost closed against the sun and the anger, but glowing lines of red illuminated his face as Three continued, “Perhaps that girl, Two’s lover? She can join Two in the afterlife.”

“You have no right to mention any of their names,” Hito growled, and sprinted at him, again, much faster than any human could have done, but Three was not a human. Three blocked his fists, caught his arm and swung him around like he did Fleance, and then stepped back, sneering, as Hito clambered up unsteadily, his shoulders shaking.

“Touchy, touchy, aren’t you, Takeda Hito?”

Before Hito could muster up the energy to say anything, the doors of the castle opened and Irina stepped out, shielding her eyes from the glare of the sun in the sky and the sun on the snow. Three saw her mouth the name – “Hito?” – and take a slow step forwards.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Three hissed at Irina, the girl who owed him so much, who would have long died if he had not changed her.

“But I do,” Irina replied simply. Fury pressed down on him. The girl? The traitor? Was she the one who started the business of leaving?

“Takeda Hito, you will regret the day you ever met this Council.”

Hito stepped towards Three, too, a little shakily, even as the bruises on his arm mended.

“And Irina, Irina who I have protected and cherished for years. Is this how you repay me? With betrayal?”

For a second, Irina looked hesitant, but then Three saw her jaw tighten, and she opened her mouth to tell him, in Russian, in a voice as cold as the snow, “You have never protected and cherished me. You have taken away my father, my village, my life. You have taken too much away.”

Three let a harsh bark of laughter escape his lips, but Irina continued, in English for the benefit of the Takeda boy, “You have taken too much away.”

“Ungrateful wretch!” Three shrieked, realizing exactly who it was that had started the whole affair, and charging at them. Irina leapt out of the way by a hair, as Hito bore down on the offensive. Little by little, Three lost control of the fight, and he slipped in the snow.

Irina hesitated, her hand an inch away from his throat.

“Вы хотите меня убить?” Three asked, softly. You would kill me?

Irina hesitated even more, and the instant was enough for him to pull the dagger out of his sleeve, laughing an exhilarated laugh, and plunging the blade deep into her heart. “Вы потеряли шанс,” he said coldly, standing, brushing the snow off his shirt.

You are next, Takeda Hito.

He left Irina bleeding and gasping in the snow, and he left the boy staring at him, utterly helpless, and then he left altogether, disappearing back into the castle.

*

Up in the tower, at the window, Fleance was screaming, but no one heard. “Irina!”

Was Irina dying?

“Hito!” he screamed, but Hito didn’t hear him, or maybe couldn’t hear him. Why did Three kill her? Why did Three fight them? With a sob, he turned away from the window, to the bed, where he let himself drop.

Arthur was waiting for him, a frown on his face.

“WHY?” Fleance screamed at him.

“I don’t know,” Arthur closed his eyes. “Irina was just a pawn…a pawn…a pawn…”

“What are you talking about?” Fleance demanded.

“We are in a game,” Arthur said, “Of chess.”

“Chess?”

“You must not die,” Arthur said. “You are the king. And if the king dies, we lose. You have to stay alive.”

“What are you talking about?” Fleance repeated.

“Three is the Red Queen,” Arthur said, “And you are the White King.”

“I don’t understand chess,” Fleance said.

“The object of the game is to kill the king. You are the only king the red queen would kill. Three wants to kill you, but he has to work his way through the rest of us first. Do you remember Ishmael? Six?”

“Yes…”

“He was the first to go – the knight.”

“And you –” Fleance started, his voice higher than normal.

“The other knight. And Four, Four is the other pawn. Even a pawn can defend a king. Remember that. Keep her safe.”

“No one will find her,” Fleance promised.

“Good.”

“What am I doing here?” a new voice, a female voice, broke through. Fleance whirled around –

“Irina!”

“What am I doing?” she asked shrilly, “Where am I?”

“Relax,” Arthur commanded.

“T-T-Two?”

“Arthur,” he corrected.

“Whatever,” she dismissed him.

“Irina, you’re dead,” Arthur said bluntly.

“I’m what?”

“Dead.”

“How can I be?” she asked harshly, “When he is here?” she pointed to Fleance. “Unless…”

“I’m not,” Fleance said quickly, feeling more and more confused.

“Go back to sleep, Fleance,” Arthur said, “Irina and I will talk.”

“But…”

“Go!”

*

Leo…

Staring up at the ceiling of her tiny room, she realized that it was white. There was one lamp in the whole room, and it was flickering. There were no windows. She was a prisoner of the castle. The light of the lamp dimmed and brightened at regular intervals, which sort of felt like the sun outside.

Except there was no sun, now.

“Maybe I’m going crazy,” she muttered to herself. “I’m talking to dead people.”

No one responded, of course. Lia sighed, but did not move. Earlier, when she had cleaned and cleaned and cleaned until this place was spotless, she did not feel that anything was severely wrong. But now she thought about why One was trapping her in this place without a sun.

No one could live without a sun.

“Am I going crazy, Leo?”

She imagined that her sunny little brother was sitting on her bed, demanding her to tell him a story. “Once upon a time,” he would say.

“There was a princess,” she’d sigh.

“What did the princess do?” he would prompt.

“Why don’t you go play outside like a normal boy, Leo?” she’d ask him.

Sometimes she thought she saw Laurence, too, but he never spoke to her. But she’d talk to him, sometimes. “Why are you engaged?” she would ask him.

Most of the time, though, she closed her eyes and tried not to think. She let her mind wander wherever it wanted to wander, and sometimes she thought about the other members of the Council, such as Arthur. Who was dead. Irina, who was also dead. Three, whom she feared more than anyone else in the world, and Seven, who she never talked to, and Fleance. Fleance looked almost exactly like Leo, with different colour hair.

Maybe in another life –

“Four! Four, are you alright?”

There was a wild pounding on the door. Lia rose, alarmed, to open it, and Fleance burst in, pale. “You’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said, her eyes wide, “What happened?”

“Irina – Five – is dead.”

Silence.

“Sorry?” Lia asked, a bit uncertainly.

“Five is dead,” Fleance repeated, “Three killed her.”

Lia stared at him, blankly.

“Here,” Fleance produced a few food items from under his jacket. “I have to go. Three probably knows you’re still in the castle – he’s probably looking everywhere…”

“You don’t have to come here to see me all the time,” Lia said, “Just once in a while…so that I know you’re still alive.”

“Well, I have to keep checking so that I know you’re still alive,” Fleance pointed out, turning and leaving.

“Wait –” Lia called out, but he was already gone.

*

Thankfully, Three found him not the minute he came out of the door, but a few hallways from it. “And where do you think you’re going?”

“I…”

“You have caused me so much trouble,” Three hissed, slamming him into the wall. Fleance clenched his teeth and glared back at him.

“You’re the one stupid enough to listen to me,” he said.

“After I am finished with the Takeda boy,” Three said, his eyes livid, his face paler than usual, “I will enjoy killing you. I will enjoy ripping you apart, limb by limb, and ripping through you with my knife, and watching you bleed into the floor just like your knight did, begging for mercy.”

“Or maybe you won’t,” Fleance said, frowning and revealing the hidden dagger in his shoe. Three’s eyes widened.

“Since when did you have that?”

“Always.”

Three glared down at Fleance. Fleance glared back up. Several centuries flew by, and then with a shout of anger Three smashed his head into the wall, dropped him, and stalked off in disgust.

Fleance rubbed his eyes, standing up, letting his head come to a stop, letting the stars in his vision disappear. He took a deep breath. He had to stay alive, Arthur had told him. He had to stay alive to save this game, except it wasn’t really a game anymore.

It was his life. It was his life, and Lia’s life, and probably Arthur’s and Irina’s and Hito’s lives. For the first time in centuries, Fleance uttered a short prayer. Please God don’t let them die for me.

Then he walked, slowly, up the stairs, his face set in stone.

It was time to go. To hide. To hide from his death.

To fly.

wordcount: 3153

ETERNITY, COUNCIL. PART THIRTEEN.

XIII

 

Hell arrived in the form of a foggy gray morning, chill from the weather as well as the general atmosphere of the castle. Hito stared as everyone picked at their bread, as Three prowled around the kitchen, evidently ill at ease even after the death of Arthur.

He glared at every single one of them, asking each of them the same thing: Where was Four? No one would tell him; but he suddenly had to wonder if anyone could tell him.

“Keep a lookout on every entrance,” He instructed harshly. “Should she come back, bring her to me at all costs. Kill if you must –” This particular sentence was directed towards Fleance. “– she is a weakling that won’t be missed, at any rate. Am I clear?”

“Yes,” the rest of them chorused dully.

“And should any of you disobey me,” Three added, “I will make sure you die a slow, painful death…twice over.”

With that, Three turned and left.

Fleance, Hito, and Irina looked at each other cautiously. Fleance knew what they were thinking, but he had sworn not to tell. Irina turned towards him and asked, in a low voice, “Do you know where she is?”

Fleance shook his head. “No, I tried to find her but she wasn’t anywhere.” He was careful not to look any of them in the eye for too long.

Three saw Fleance walk out of the kitchen looking very strained, but he had stopped caring. He had thought that there was potential in this boy, but in the end it was still only because of Arthur. He waited as Irina left, too, but not before hearing Hito saying something to her in an oddly tender sort of voice.

With a frown, he started forward; about to go into the kitchen to give Hito a piece of his mind, but then the phone rang.

“Hello?” Hito asked. Three frowned at the long silence that followed, before he distinctly heard Hito say, “It’s okay, Shin. Attack. I’ll be here waiting for you all. And tell Icarus I’ll be –”

“Treachery,” Three hissed, unable to stay in the shadows any longer. Hito’s eyes widened as he saw him, but he finished his sentence – “– alright,” and then hung up.

“Explain,” Three said, frowning at Hito. Hito frowned back. “I knew you could not be trusted, Takeda Hito. I gave you a chance to prove me wrong. I knew that it was a mistake to ask you to join us as soon as I found about the boy Takahashi.”

“Then what are you going to do?” Hito asked coolly.

“I am going to cleanse this Council of its traitors,” Three said. “I have disposed of Two and now it is you who shall die – and after you will be that annoying little boy.”

“How refreshing,” Hito replied, raising an eyebrow, “Did you know that you are doing us all a favor when you kill us? I don’t think any of us even like this place, anyways, with someone like you creeping around every corner, listening in on conversations.”

Three was seething with fury, but could not say anything, and so Hito walked past him into the hall without a single glance backwards.

*

Fleance looked all around to make sure that no one could see him, and then quickly opened the passage that led him to Lia. He was happy to see her looking quite well, and sat on the only chair in the lit room, swinging his legs while grinning down at her. She attempted to smile back, but with less success.

“How is you arm?” she asked.

“Almost good as new!” he said cheerfully, “I am rather proud of this! It hurt a lot for the first few days, so now that I can move my fingers without screaming, it must be a good sign…”

“Very good,” Lia agreed as she looked at the door nervously every few seconds. Fleance noticed this and hastened to reassure her.

“Oh, don’t worry, I can barely find this place myself,” he said, “How have you been?”

“Good,” she said with a weak smile, “I cleaned this place…”

“I noticed,” Fleance said with a laugh that was half incredulous and half astonished, twisting his neck to look around the extremely spotless room. “Would you like a few…books, or something of that sort?”

“Oh, no,” she said, “I’d hate to trouble you, please don’t…”

“You’re not troubling me!” Fleance exclaimed, “You are the only person that keeps me from killing myself now.” He said this with so much seriousness that Lia was honestly scared, and had to sit down on the bed and stare for a moment.

“Killing…?” she asked after a moment.

“It’s…I don’t know how to explain this,” Fleance mumbled, “I have to help you – I mean, I want to help you…and…once I finish helping you, I can go to find Arthur…”

Lia exhaled loudly. “I’m just a job?” she asked, almost angrily.

“No!” he protested, leaping up from the chair.

“If you want to find Arthur so much,” she said, straining in order to not cry, “Then why don’t you go find him right now? What’s stopping you?”

“I want to do this!” Fleance said, “I could have just back out a long time ago and let Three kill you, but then why would I be here helping you? If I wanted to – leave – so much, I could have just let Three kill me, I bet he would have done it gladly!”

Lia lowered her head with shame, deflating like a balloon. “Forgive me,” she said, her voice breaking. “I am very…frightened…”

Fleance regarded her with curiously soft blue eyes. “You’re kind of like an older sister,” he said thoughtfully, “Or like a younger sister, even. So as your brother, I don’t help you from a sense of duty, you know. That’s not ob-li-ga-tor-ry (he sounded out the word), it’s ‘cause I…well…I mean, it’s because…”

Lia smiled her first true smile in years. “I see,” she said, walking to him and patting his soft hair, “I love you too, little brother.”

*

“This is almost like a what-do-you-call-it,” Arthur commented, grinning crookedly at Fleance, who glared at him, “A…one of those family shows, you know. On BBC.”

“You know BBC?” Fleance asked. “I thought that you only cared about Shakespeare and those weird love poems that you read all day.” Arthur looked slightly offended.

“I read Goethe too!” he argued, frowning, “And besides, I deserve to know something about my country after all these years!”

“This is not helping you prove your point,” Fleance remarked.

“Well, that’s not my mission,” Arthur said.

“Yes, well,” Fleance started, and then realized that he really didn’t have much more to say, so Arthur started another topic, looking at him very seriously over the table.

“What did you mean she was the only one keeping you from killing yourself?”

“I –” Fleance squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. “I only meant that –”

“Don’t ever say that again,” Arthur said, his voice a little raw, “Ever. You should never want to die – if you do, you’re doing something wrong.”

“It’s not me!” Fleance cried out, “It’s you! You’re the one that died, and you think it’s my fault for wanting to follow you? Well, let me tell you, Arthur, the only reason –”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Arthur cut him off, “You’re supposed to get over this and let life lead you on. I did not die so you could follow me; I died to keep you safe.”

“A lot of good that did me,” Fleance said disgustedly, “Now all Three sees is that I liked you better and he wants to kill me more.”

“…you think this is your fault, don’t you?” Arthur accused, “And now you’re trying to blame me to make yourself feel better, and yet you’re unwilling to accept that it’s not your fault. Am I right? Answer me!”

Fleance said nothing.

“Fleance!” Arthur commanded, using his royal sort of voice, the one that no one ever dared to disobey.

“I didn’t want you to die!” Fleance sobbed, “I couldn’t help it – I was so angry – and then Three came along and – then I thought he was just – going – but I never thought –” there was a brief moment of silence, and then Fleance flung his head into his arms and cried stormily. “Why can’t you come back?” he managed to gasp out.

“I can’t,” Arthur said simply, “I’m here now. I can’t stay with you forever…I have avoided death for five hundred years – you have helped me cheat death for five hundred years, and now it’s time to let go.”

“But I don’t want to,” Fleance cried.

“You can’t cheat fate forever,” Arthur reminded him.

“What if I can? Why can’t I? Why can’t I just kill myself so it stops hurting?” Fleance asked fiercely, his cheeks red.

“I will have died for nothing,” Arthur said calmly, although his voice was just as strained, “If all you do is kill yourself to follow in my footsteps. Don’t be a coward. You can move on, and easily, if you let yourself.”

“What if – what if I forget?” Fleance asked fearfully.

“Do you honestly think you’ll forget?”

“I don’t…”

Arthur looked at him.

“No, I won’t forget,” he said, finally.

“See? Now go sleep.”

“I’m not sleeping right now?” Fleance asked, looking somewhere between like he had been given a holiday and like he had just been electrocuted a million times.

“No, you’ve been awake and talking to me,” Arthur said, frowning, “Go. Sleep.”

“Will you come back?” Fleance asked, now looking more like he’d been electrocuted.

Arthur smiled. “That depends,” he said, “If you still need me, I will.” He reached out a hand, as if to grasp Fleance’s shoulder, but he was fading, so it went straight through, and then the table disappeared, and Arthur was gone too.

*

A Long, Long Time Ago…

 

Once upon a time, there was a castle, in Scotland, of course. In the highest tower of the castle (where no one had ever visited before), there was a lady being held hostage by a dragon. Her name was Irina and she was sort of a nasty person, but most of the time she was rather pretty and nice, so no one really cared. Usually.

But the dragon, no matter how she cursed and begged and screamed profanities (in Russian, for some reason), wouldn’t let her go, for some reason.

So Irina contacted the high priest for help. The high priest had snake eyes, but he was also very wise, so no one bothered to point this out. Anyways, the high priest told Irina that if she paid him one thousand gold pieces, he would bust her out so that she would find her True Love and all that boring sappy stuff –

He actually used the words “boring sappy stuff,” which wasn’t exactly appropriate for a high priest, but since he like to kill people, no one pointed this out either.

She wrote a letter to the Count (Fleance thought that Counts just counted money) asking to make a withdrawal of one thousand gold from her bank account. The Count obeyed (his name was Ishmael), so the high priest got the hundred gold pieces that he really needed, and kept the other nine hundred to spend on his shifty stuff.

Still, though, Irina waited day and knight for him to bust her out of her prison, except he never showed up because he got distracted while making negotiations with the dragon. So she waited, and she waited, and waited, and then one day she got really sick of waiting and kicked her maid out of the window so she would tell people to try and rescue her.

One day, a very handsome prince appeared (his name was Arthur). He had a really shiny sword (Fleance had always had a fascination with shiny swords) and a giant white stallion which he left outside the gates so that it wouldn’t trip and make a fool out of itself. Then he leapt up the stairs three at a time, so he got to the tower three times faster than most people.

“Release her!” he demanded of the dragon.

“And who…are you?” the dragon asked, peering down at him. Arthur didn’t flinch, but crossed his arms and strangely enough, began lecturing on table manners.

“…so therefore, I am superior to you, and you should let her go,” he concluded.

The dragon looked slightly bewildered, although it could have just been the fact that Arthur was amazingly incoherent when he wanted to be. Arthur opened his mouth to start another lecture, but the dragon shrieked,

“No! Don’t babble anymore, human! Take her and go!”

So Arthur took Irina and made her walk out of the tower without ever retrieving her missing thousand gold pieces. And so the dragon, longing for another companion, demanded that the high priest kept him company instead. The high priest chattered his teeth all the way up to the tower, but went anyways, where the dragon turned him into gold for the rest of eternity.

And Arthur and Irina lived happily ever after.

*

“Arthur?” Fleance sat up in his bed and found Lia staring at him, looking a strange mixture of worried and amused. “Four? What – what are you doing here?”

“What – what I should ask you is,” Lia said after realizing that he was actually awake, “What are you doing here? It is three in the morning and you sleep-walked all the way down here – and then you kicked me out of my bed and started talking in your sleep.”

“I what?” Fleance gasped.

“S-something about a – a dragon – and Arthur,” Lia said, looking more confused than ever.

Fleance thought for a moment. “I wonder if I’m seeing the future,” he said after a while.

“The – the future?”

“M-maybe this is a dream,” Fleance said, and then punched himself. “Oww!”

“Are you alright?” Lia shrieked.

“Yes…this isn’t a dream?”

“N-no, or we’re having the same dream.”

“Then it must be the future,” Fleance decided. He stopped for a moment and looked at Lia. “Do you know anything about dreams, Four?”

“Not – not really,” Lia replied.

“Well,” Fleance started, and then stopped again. “Well, if the dragon symbolizes England, and Irina is a princess, then that must mean that Arthur is a prince!”

A silence filled the room.

“Arthur is a prince,” he remembered.

“He is?”

“Obviously!” Fleance said loudly, “Why else would he always lecture me on how to behave around girls and being chivalrous and all that prince stuff?”

“Why indeed,” Lia said weakly.

“That must be wrong, then! This is hard…well, the high priest is definitely Three,” Fleance said. Lia stared at him and asked him who on earth he was talking about. “The high priest – the one that cheated Irina out of her money! You know, the snake-eyed one.”

“I – I didn’t dream your dream,” Lia pointed out.

“Oh…yeah, that’s right,” Fleance remembered, and then went into a long, detailed explanation of his dream. Lia knitted her brows in perplexity.

“Why one thousand gold pieces?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Fleance shrugged, “Can you make any sense of this? I mean, Arthur’s dead and Irina…well, doesn’t she love Seven?”

“I don’t know,” Lia said.

“But you’re a girl! You should know,” Fleance said, looking very sad.

“I’m sorry I don’t,” Lia replied, uncharacteristically snappy.

Half an hour later –

“So you are sure that Three is the evil dictator that was actually Napoleon and is now reborn?” Lia asked.

“Well, I always thought Napoleon would be shorter, but there’s no other explanation.”

 

wordcount: 2617

[DRABBLE] end.

Like a sheet of paper, the illusion crumbled; like sand it scattered; like pieces of wire, it hurt. There was only the empty pieces of furniture, the bare walls and the spotless carpet that had been smoothed by the ages. No one smirked behind the morning newspaper, no one clattered behind the stove, no one blew in from the front door after buying fresh bread from the bakery. Like a wilted flower, everything had dimmed, faded, paled. No one had been around for years now, and he knew that when he closed the doors for the last time, no one ever will.

The castle in Scotland stood alone, a stark outline against the sun, and it would remain that way for eternity.

INTERLUDE, ARTHUR.

Interlude, Arthur

 

“Arthur,” someone said right behind him. “So, you too, huh…”

Arthur whirled around, staring into the face now in front of him, focusing his eyes and his memory, until said eyes widened in surprise. “You’re…Ishmael,” he said, “But you’re – you’re dead…”

“Bravo,” Ishmael replied, rolling his dark eyes. “What else could I be?”

“A ghost,” Arthur answered at once, “Or else…but if you’re dead, that means – wait, what did you mean by ‘you too’? Where am I? What am I doing here? Where’s Fleance – where’s Three?”

“Arthur,” the usually stone-cold voice was soft, gentle, “You’re dead. I’m dead. You’ve left the earth.”

“I’m dead?” Arthur repeated incredulously. “But I’m supposed to know that, aren’t I?”

Ishmael shrugged. Arthur frowned.

“I’m really dead, aren’t I?” he asked after a moment.

“If you don’t mind me asking – how’d you get here?”

“I – I don’t know,” Arthur replied. “I think it was Three, but I can’t remember all the details…and I think Fleance was there but…”

“I see,” Ishmael said, nodding. A pleasant – albeit awkward – silence passed between the two of them, before he couldn’t resisting killing the moment with a “How was it? Fast?”

“Slow,” Arthur said quietly, after he’d thought about it for a moment, his memory slowly coming back. “Like you.”

“My apologies,” Ishmael said, polite as always. “Painful, wasn’t it?” was his next question, and Arthur was surprised to hear a bit of a wistful tone.

“I suppose…”

“I would give much to feel that pain, once more,” Ishmael said, smiling crookedly. “I would rather be a mortal in extreme agony than live a life up here in perfect idolatry. It gets boring, and I did not do everything I had wanted to do on earth.”

“It hurt a lot,” Arthur said, raising an eyebrow.

“We can’t breathe up here,” Ishmael said suddenly, “Did you know that?”

“We can’t breathe?”

“Well – we can inhale, but there is nothing…if we could breathe up here, mortals would be able to live in clouds. That’s why no living person is around,” he explained, “And yet – do you see the sun?”

Arthur nodded, looking at the sun, which was blazing yellow in the blue sky. Then he realized that he was standing in the sky, except it wasn’t really the sky, and at the same time he could look downwards and see the people on the earth.

“Do you feel the air?” Ishmael asked then.

It felt fresh, wonderful.

“Would you like to breathe in the fresh air?” Ishmael asked, again, in a low voice.

Arthur inhaled eagerly, but it wasn’t the same as going out to the gardens, early in the morning on a clear day, Catalina at his side, where they would stay until late afternoon, lying together and taking in the summer air. He lowered his gaze, stricken. “Isn’t this supposed to be heaven?” he asked angrily.

“No,” Ishmael replied sardonically. “This is not heaven. That is what you would call Heaven,” he pointed, and it was only for the briefest moment, but Arthur swore he saw a giant, magnificent castle nested among the blue of the sky. How he had failed to notice it at first escaped him completely, but even as he stared, it faded out of sight again.

“Why –”

“– are we down here? I don’t know. You could call it ‘unfinished business.’”

“I don’t have any,” Arthur began, but then stopped. Ishmael looked at him knowingly.

“It is the boy, One,” he stated. Arthur nodded.

“How am I supposed to help him now?”

“Well…I have never used this, but some people like dream messaging,” Ishmael shrugged again, “If you want to see him, you could also just watch him. Focus on Scotland. Focus on the castle in Scotland.”

Arthur peered downwards, wondering where he was supposed to look to find Scotland, but no sooner had he thought of the word, in his mind’s eye he envisioned the bit of the island, and then the castle, and he saw the castle. It looked insanely small from an aerial point of view.

The problem was the walls. He turned back to glare at Ishmael, but Ishmael had disappeared.

Arthur decided to lie down, on his stomach, looking down as if from a bed. An invisible surface was beneath him, and he peered over the edge, deeper and deeper, watching the walls of the castle zoom up like in a movie, or a car chase, or whatever.

Then he distinctly heard a female voice:

“…even you would not break them.”

Then he saw the person to whom the voice belonged: Irina.

Then he saw who the person was talking to: Three.

And last, he saw the reason for this dispute: Fleance, lying in a small heap on the ground, one arm bent at an impossible angle. Angrily, Arthur sprang up to do something – anything – but it was like he met an invisible wall that didn’t allow him to communicate with anything on earth. What on earth had Three done to Fleance?”

“…if you let him escape, Five, I will rip you to shreds. Is that clear?” Three asked coldly, “And if you so much as think about leaving…well…I will let you imagine the punishment.”

Three swept out of the hallway, as Irina glared after him.

Arthur watched, frowning, as Irina hoisted Fleance up and dragged him out of sight, towards a staircase, and then as she stopped at a doorway, knocking on it.

“Yes?”

“Get out,” Irina said shortly. A minute later, the door closed and a small, dark-haired figure stepped out into the hallway.

“Wh-what is it?” Four asked nervously.

“Follow me. Don’t ask questions. Don’t talk. Don’t look back.”

“But –”

“What did I just say?” Irina demanded, and then she continued dragging Fleance up the stairs, Four following, looking a little confused and very shocked and rather like she was going to cry.

“Four,” Arthur said.

Four didn’t hear – or maybe he was just not audible. Arthur clenched his teeth in frustration, but followed as well.

Presently, Irina led them to a small room in a tower, where she dumped Fleance onto the bed, and then turned to Four. “You need to hide.”

“Why?”

“Three did this,” Irina pointed to Fleance who looked a little like he was drunk, if a nine year old could possibly get drunk. “He’s going to go after you. Hide.”

“Hide where?”

Arthur recalled that Four was inclined to hide in places. She was quite good a hiding, too. Before he could watch any more, though, a hand jerked on his shirt and yanked him back up.

“What are you doing?” Ishmael asked, “If you want to help the boy, now is the best time to!”

“H-help – what?”

“Give him help,” Ishmael replied, patiently. Arthur had the distinct feeling that Ishmael saw him as a troubling grade school boy. “Send him a dream message.”

“And if you’re kind enough to possibly tell him how,” Arthur said. Ishmael half-glared at him and said,

“Use your head.”

Arthur wondered how his head was supposed to get him into Fleance’s head, but no sooner had he wondered this, there was a whirl of color and he was in a room – a dining room? – shaking his head at a very bewildered looking Fleance.

“You,” he said to the boy, “Are an idiot.”

 

wordcount: 1220

ETERNITY, COUNCIL. PART TWELVE.

XII

 

Three came back in a good mood, but his good mood only lasted until he ran into Fleance. Fleance jerked back immediately, glaring up at him through his bangs. Three’s pleased smirk slid off his face and he looked back at Fleance calmly. “And where do you think you’re going, One?”

“…nowhere,” Fleance mumbled.

“Surely you’re not thinking about running away?” Three then asked, and was fiercely satisfied to see the boy stiffen, and then relax, and shake his head vehemently. “It’s late, you know. You should be in bed.”

“You killed Arthur,” Fleance said.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I did. Is his body gone?” Three continued conversationally, placing one hand on the wall, sneering down at Fleance. Fleance glared harder, until his eyes really did seem to be as red as the Takeda boy’s. Then he started to scream.

“WHY DID YOU KILL HIM?”

“Because he was foolish, and he cared about you, and he was going to betray us,” he shrugged carelessly.

“You killed him out of jealousy?” Fleance asked harshly, “Jealousy? You? Three? Surely you have a much nobler reason for killing off my brother…let me see…how about doing it for the good of our cause? Is that it?”

“I did in fact kill him for it,” Three said through a clenched jaw, “You were there. You were watching. But you know what you didn’t see, boy? He was afraid of death! He said he would die for you a thousand times over and yet in the face of it he cringed, like a coward – like a helpless –”

“ENOUGH,” Fleance screamed. “DON’T CALL HIM A COWARD! I DON’T SEE YOU DYING FOR ME! YOU LYING, TWO-FACED DEMON!”

“Who is the demon, One?” Three asked, “You or me? You killed the one person who you swore to protect…in a fit of hunger…how pitiful…”

“SHUT UP!” amazingly enough, no one – not Irina or Hito or Lia – came running to see the cause of this ruckus. Fleance breathed deeply through his nostrils. “I know exactly what you’re trying to do, Three. You’re trying to turn us against each other to gain control of the Council. You’re never going to gain control.”

“I am,” Three snapped, “I have been controlling it all these years, while you sit on your ridiculous throne playing king with your stupid knights and pawns…do you know the game chess, One? The game where everyone tries to protect the king who is powerless and weak and undeserving? It’s the queen who really has the power, the controls…take the queen, and you take the army…”

“You’re wrong,” Fleance said loudly. “I’ve never listened to you. I’ve always listened to Arthur! I would not have even agreed to your stupid plan in the first place if Arthur hadn’t let me! And you – with your stupid ideas, hoping to gain control over me?”

“I WILL CONTROL YOU,” Three screamed, finally losing his temper, “You are all pieces of worthlessness, wastes of the discipline required to change a human being. I alone am trying to do something for our kind! I have logic and the strength of ages! And you? You’re just a child who can’t accomplish anything without me!”

“DON’T – CALL – ME – A – CHILD,” Fleance roared, “Snake!”

It quickly escalated to a shouting match between the two, Fleance hurling insults at Three and Three spitting them back at Fleance, until suddenly Fleance fell silent. Three’s lip curled again, in that familiar sneering derision. “Why so silent, boy?”

“This is all your fault,” Fleance said bitterly, “You are a traitor yourself for turning against your leader. You should die! Go die, Three, and see if I care!”

“You wouldn’t have the nerve to kill, boy,” Three chuckled, but Fleance stared at him, pulling from beneath his jacket a glimmering dagger – the Takahashi boy’s work, Three realized. Just the right size for a child, just the right size for hiding beneath a cloak…

Fleance launched himself onto Three, with a word coming out of his mouth that Arthur would not have wanted him to say. But Three, who had the strength of ages as he himself had stated, was fast. He twisted out of the way, grabbing Fleance by the wrist and slamming him into the wall. He felt Fleance go slack, for just a moment, with a small gasp, but then the boy turned around with a snarl, dagger raised high, the metal blade seemingly bent in the torchlight.

“Weak,” Three said contemptuously, dodging yet again and twisting Fleance’s arm behind his back with a snap. “Powerless.”

“You forget I’m old, too,” Fleance said, his head spinning, “I have the strength of centuries –”

“– And I, millennia,” Three said. Fleance’s reply was to swear loudly and flash down with the dagger, which met its mark for the first time and sank deep into Three’s arm. With a yell of rage Three let go, and Fleance took the opportunity to punch him, hard, his fist tiny and precise as a hammer, in the jaw.

“GO TO HELL,” he said, his voice ringing into the hall, punching again, but Three’s other arm caught his fist and slammed it into the wall, so that there was a loud cracking sound and a high-pitched scream.

“Worthless boy,” Three commented, wresting the dagger single-handedly from Fleance’s grip and slicing it down his side. Fleance screamed again, this time not from anger but from agony, rolling aside, trying desperately to get up, but Three ground a heel into his broken hand and he was reduced to a gasping heap on the floor.

Three’s eyes lit up with malice as the blade whirled down, and Fleance closed his eyes, expecting to feel death, but feeling nothing.

“Stay away from him,” Irina said in a low, angry voice, “This is not the time or the place to fight. The period of mourning is not over for Two, anyways.”

Three, furious, glared at her. “You would stop me?”

Irina did not answer the question, but repeated again, “Customs are customs, Three, even you would not break them.”

*

“You are an idiot,” Arthur sighed, shaking his head at Fleance. Fleance only stared, unhurt, across the stone table to the other end, where Arthur was sitting, looking at him disapprovingly. “What was the point of that?”

“You’re alive!” Fleance uttered, springing up, dashing around the table, but Arthur held up a hand to stop him, looking a little sad,

“No.”

“You left…” Fleance said, deflating in an instant.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” he said, “I thought you had allowed me to be killed.” Fleance looked downcast for a moment, before shaking his head too.

“How could I ever?” he asked indignantly. “I miss you, Arthur!”

“I know,” Arthur said, “But that was still a stupid thing to do.”

“I was angry,” Fleance said, narrowing his eyes at the thought of Three, “And I didn’t know what else to do, and I want to avenge you so badly, but…I wasn’t able to do anything, like he said…”

“No, you were able to do a lot,” Arthur said, “Like proving to him that you aren’t weak, that he was wrong about all of us – no matter how much he says you’re weak, don’t listen to him. He’s trying to take you down from the inside.”

“Can you always give me the answers I need?” Fleance asked.

“No, but I think I can help…” Arthur trailed off, and then looked a bit embarrassed, and then asked, “What were you doing after I died? Falling asleep? Really now?”

“That’s not funny,” Fleance argued, frowning, “I didn’t sleep for days after that.”

“Sorry,” Arthur said again. “I just…I didn’t know you…”

“Can’t I just stay here?” Fleance asked then, softly. “I don’t want to go back. It hurts, and it’s cold…”

“You can’t,” Arthur said quickly. “Never say that, Fleance. You can’t get here until you’re supposed to – and that’s not for ages yet. You’re going to get through this, and you’re going to find peace, first…and maybe then…”

“But I don’t want to get through it,” Fleance said stubbornly, a child again in a moment. “I want to stay here with you and forget about everyone else.”

“No,” Arthur said, gently steering him back to the other end of the table, where it seemed to be much colder for some reason. “There are ones who still need you, and you can’t fail them.”

Fleance sighed, and then his lip trembled a little, but Arthur gave him a look that said “be strong”, so he steeled himself, and he saw Arthur nod a bit, and then he was opening his eyes back into the room in the castle in the Scottish highlands…back into the world of the living and waking.

*

“You’re awake,” Irina’s voice was the first thing he heard, full of disapproval. Everywhere he was, there was disapproval. Fleance sat up, finding that his side was healing quickly, that his arm and hand was mending slowly but surely, looking around the room. It wasn’t his, or Irina’s.

In fact, it looked a bit like a nursery. “I am awake,” he said, a little surprised.

“Three’s out right now, doing something,” Irina explained, “You could have gotten killed.” She said this dully, as if death wasn’t anything new to her, although Fleance thought that she must hurt almost as much as he did from losing Arthur.

“I see,” he replied, letting himself fall back onto the pillow.

“Get some rest, One. Rest while you can,” she said, leaving the room and closing the door behind her. Fleance heard the sound of her footsteps falling softer and softer as she descended the stairs, and he had to wonder at what she meant. But the thoughts were lost on him, as the minute her footsteps faded into nothing, he fell back asleep, and this time, he didn’t dream at all.

When he woke up again, curled up into a ball, the covers kicked off the bed, he felt a lot better. His side had stopped hurting, and his arm only slightly, and he couldn’t so much as twitch a finger, but at least when he let it hang at his side, it didn’t throb. So Fleance thought back to the meeting with Arthur, having no trouble accepting it as having happened – and wondered what he was trying to say. There are ones who still need you. What on earth was that supposed to mean?

Maybe it was Three, he thought. But he shook his head. Even if Three was the only hope of saving mankind, Fleance would not help him. But he thought, and thought, and even after Irina had shown up with a slice of bread, after the sky outside darkened, he could not come to a conclusion. He had no ties to this world now, except maybe the castle itself, but he felt in his bones that Arthur was definitely not talking about the castle. Then who…?

Hito?

Hito probably hates you, his brain reminded him, for getting him involved in this disaster in the first place.

He had a very good reason to, after all. If Hito had gotten him into such a big mess, he would probably feel the exact same way. Still, no matter whom he thought of – he even thought of his father, and the one who murdered his father – seemed to fit! Fleance spent the entire night awake, tossing and turning in fits of frustration, trying to figure it out. Many times he willed himself to go to sleep to hopefully demand answers from Arthur, but even in his short, ten-minute dozes, Arthur never appeared, and neither did the table with two sides.

*

“One,” a female voice, soft, drifted through the air. Fleance bolted upright, his eyes wide, for he hadn’t heard anyone opening the door. “One!”

“Who – who’s there?” he called softly.

There was a shuffling sort of noise, and then Lia clambered up to a shaky standing position, using the bed as support. “It’s me,” she said quickly, as Fleance ogled and pointed and spluttered something. “Shh.”

“How on earth?” he finally asked, frowning, “Were you there the whole time?”

“No,” Lia replied a little too quickly, and Fleance could see, even in the moonlight, that her face was bright red. “Three came looking for me, so Five made me stay here, because Three thought you were alone in here.”

“Smart of her,” Fleance said, a little dazed, trying to process the fact that there had been a girl hiding under his bed the entire time. Lia was uncommonly good at going everywhere unnoticed, he realized. If he hadn’t known she was there, he probably would have never thought she existed at all. Then he processed the rest of her explanation. “Three was looking for you?” he demanded, leaping out of the bed.

“I – guess,” she said uncomfortably, “But I got away, so it’s alright…”

“He’ll come after you again,” Fleance said, and then, as if having conjured him up, he suddenly heard footsteps approaching. Eyes wide and bright with fear, he gestured wildly to Lia to hide. She looked around equally wildly, not seeing any place. He motioned for her to go under the bed again, but she shook her head, whether out of confusion or something else, he never knew.

“Under the covers,” he mouthed, pulling her up into the bed and throwing the covers over her as quickly as he could, and he curled up into a sleeping position again, trying to breathe as evenly as possible, and having a sinking feeling in his heart. A minute later, he heard the door open, and a piece of light fell into the room, right on his face. He fought hard not to open his eyes, and he heard Three walking around the room, looking in ever corner but not approaching the bed, and then leave after what felt like eons.

Fleance flailed around in bed for a bit, before finding the edge of the covers and pulling them up. Lia sat up, too, looking more than a little frightened. “See what I mean?” he whispered.

“Alright,” she answered.

Fleance thought for a moment. “You have got to hide,” he decided. “Come on!” With a surprising amount of energy, he leapt off the bed, “You’re going into hiding!”

“I – am?” she frowned, confused, “In the castle?”

“Of course,” Fleance replied almost jubilantly, “Hurry up.”

“But won’t Three…?”

“I have known this castle for centuries,” Fleance promised, “He won’t find you. No one will find you, unless I tell them the way.”

“You won’t, will you?”

“Of course not! Now, follow me. Quietly, and be careful of the steps,” he commanded, inching the door open, looking around, and quickly he led her down the stairs, getting a sense almost of déjà vu, except this time, he was the one leading her away. “Watch your step,” he whispered, more of a silent telepathic message than a whisper, and they continued silently, like two ghosts down into the main floor of the castle. Fleance stopped, holding his arm out so that Lia would stop too, and looked around cautiously again.

“Quickly,” he whispered, and they scampered like mice towards a hallway that Lia had never remembered seeing before, but just at that moment, footsteps approached, and Fleance, biting off a curse, pulled her into a small closet of some sort, gesturing for her to not make a sound.

Lia squeaked.

Inwardly, Fleance swore.

Outside, the footsteps stopped. Fleance stopped breathing along with it, cramped up with Lia in the small closet, trying to will her to not breathe as well. He could have died then and there when the footsteps came closer and closer, past the door, pausing suspiciously at the door –

There was a moment of dead, dead silence. It was like the castle had suddenly frozen in time. Nothing moved, and Fleance suddenly wondered if Three could hear his heartbeat through the door.

The seconds passed by as long as years.

One…

Two…

Three…

Abruptly, though, the footsteps quickened, faded, and Fleance forced himself to wait for three entire minutes before inching open the door, and checking to see if Lia was still breathing – she was. “Hurry,” he said silently, and they made a mad dash for the third door from the end of the hallway, where Fleance stopped, put his palm a little below the door handle, and then taking a deep breath, forced it open with his good arm. A passageway abruptly opened up, and he pushed Lia through the door and followed. It was pitch black.

“One…?” he heard her speak, in a frightened tiny voice.

“Keep going, I’m right here,” he replied tersely, and then softened his voice, “Don’t worry. We’re safe now.”

For a few minutes, they descended together on the sloping path. It grew colder and colder, but neither of them noticed – their teeth were already chattering with sustained fear and tension. Then, Fleance grabbed her wrist to stop her. His eyes seemed to be floating in midair – two bright discs of reflected light from who knows where – it was that dark. She looked on, a little puzzled, as she heard a distinct click somewhere – and then suddenly light, warm golden light, flooded the passageway. She realized that it had been some kind of dug path.

“Stay here,” he told her. “Don’t ever leave, no matter who’s calling you. When it is time to go, you will know. There’s a door on the other side, but please don’t open it.”

She squinted her eyes against the sudden brightness, and turned to face him, marveling at how serious his face was. “Okay.”

“Stay safe, Four,” he said, shutting her into the light-filled room, “Remember, don’t leave this place, no matter what.”

Then he was gone, a ghost gliding up and away from her.

*

Back in the tower, Fleance shut the door behind him, feeling a little anxious, a little scared, and oddly like he was about to cry. But he kept himself in check, making his way towards the bed, until he felt a solid object in front of him.

“And where,” Three asked sternly, “Have you been?”

Fear flooded him, drowning out his entire being. “B-b-bathroom?”

Three narrowed his eyes. “You’re lying. You’ve been downstairs. What were you doing downstairs?”

With a strange sense of relief, Fleance realized that Three didn’t know Lia had been with him. He shrugged. “I was hungry…”

“Then,” Three asked coldly, “Why didn’t you ask Four to make you something?”

“She’s sleeping,” Fleance said defiantly, “Unlike you.”

“You’re still lying,” Three said, but then moved towards the door, “I’ll deal with you in the morning, once I am finished with Seven.”

“What about Seven?” Fleance could not help asking, surprised.

“Oh, you’ll see soon,” Three said, and shut the door with a snap.

*

“You still haven’t figured it out?” Arthur asked incredulously. Fleance, a bit annoyed, shook his head and glared at him. “The answer’s right under your nose, you know.”

“If you know everything,” Fleance snapped, still angry at Arthur for leaving in the first place, “Why can’t you just tell me and make my life easier?”

Arthur grinned, and for a moment Fleance forgot where they were and fancied it was nineteenth-century France again, when Arthur had shoved an entire bag of coins at him and told him to buy whatever he wanted at the market. “Well,” he said after a moment, “Maybe because that would ‘influence your decisions’ and we’re not actually supposed to do that.”

“Where did you learn all this stuff?” Fleance asked, more annoyed than ever.

“I don’t know. It just came naturally, you’ll see,” Arthur replied. “But, if you would like a clue…I think we can give you those…”

“Tell me,” Fleance pressed.

“Think about this,” Arthur said, and Fleance couldn’t quite tell if he was being sarcastic or not, “Think hard about this. Who are you trying to save?”

“Who am I trying to save? What kind of –” Fleance suddenly broke off, as a name and a feeling and a face suddenly matched up in his brain. “Oh.”

Lia! Fleance could have smacked his forehead. Of course, Lia. The whole time, he’d been worrying about her – she was too weak to fight back against Three, too weak to even attempt fighting in the first place – how could he have missed that? He realized suddenly that she was becoming almost as close as Arthur, and was more annoyed with himself for not realizing it. It didn’t help when Arthur decided to smile more widely, and say smugly,

“You see? Easy. Right under your nose.”

Right under his nose. Obviously.

 

 

wordcount: 3449

ETERNITY, COUNCIL. PART ELEVEN.

XI

To Fleance’s greatest and most cruel disappointment, it was Three. Three, who he had sent away weeks ago – but Three looked changed, not he cruel, unfeeling man that had left, but rather a man who recently suffered and had seen the suffering. Fleance paused, and that instant alone, in the dark, sealed his fate. Three shook his head, and led him outside into the snow–covered garden, where nothing was moving except for the two figures that stood in the middle, near the fountain. It was Arthur and Megumi, Fleance realized, talking to each other, perhaps doing more than just talking, as Arthur’s hands were resting on her waist, and her hands on his arms.

“…my world,” Fleance heard Arthur say. Megumi nodded, and with a tilt of her head their lips met. Three shook his head again, leaning to whisper to Fleance,

“Look at them plotting to leave. The girl has bewitched him, One. I spent weeks in Spain trying to decide whether or not to tell you this since you had forbade me from coming back but at last I grew too worried…”

“He’s planning to leave,” Fleance murmured. “Ar – Two. Two is going to leave…” and he said this in a dull sort of voice, more like he was being hypnotized than anything else.

“He’s going to leave you here, all alone,” Three said softly, and there was poison in his words, poison that seeped into immobilized the white chess pieces of Fleance’s mind and enabled him to move forwards without fear. “You can’t trust him, One. You can’t trust any of them but me…”

Arthur was going to leave? Fleance’s mind was a whirl of confusion and doubt, which quickly slowed down to a thick, hazy mass of dull resignation. If Arthur was going to leave, there was nothing he could do about it – they had saved each other’s lives and repaid all debts. There was nothing he could do.

“He’s going to leave,” Fleance muttered again. “Let him leave…”

And Three smiled, and Three was satisfied. Careful planning had not been the right tactic, after all – it was really dirty tricks that did the work. “Come inside, One,” he said after a moment, intent on inflicting the worst possible sort of injury to that stupid, stupid prince, “You’re going to get cold.”

One went inside. Three, for what must have been the first time in his life, placed the covers well over One’s head and made sure to close all the windows in the room so that he wouldn’t be disturbed.

*

The next morning, at breakfast, Seven and Five were up early again, along with Two. One looked at them, frowning and hurt, realizing that the reason they were up together so often was because they were all going to leave him. They were all going to LEAVE him, alone, even after Two had promised to be his friend and they had been together for centuries and centuries. One ate moodily, for once without talking, without smiling, unable to erase the image of Two and Seven’s sister together in the garden from his mind. Forget taking them with him when he left – but suddenly a new problem rose up. What about Three? He hadn’t even apologized to Three yet.

“What is he doing here?” Two asked sharply when Three showed up, smiling and gleeful.

“One let me back,” Three replied. “And you, Two. I need to talk to you. Alone.”

“I think whatever you have to say can be said here, in front of all of us,” Two said coldly, and there was a nod from Seven, and a raise of the eyebrow from Five.

“Oh, no, I wouldn’t want to treat our ladies with such rudeness as to –”

“What do you want?” Two asked.

“Come with me,” Three replied, softly, “And I will tell you.”

*

Arthur stood for a moment, and then felt Irina’s hand gripping his wrist. “What is it?”

“Don’t go,” she implored him. “It’s a trap. It’s a trap – if you get hurt, we’re all going to get hurt. Just stay here.”

“What can happen to me?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, “I can defend myself. I’m not –”

Irina sighed. “Please be careful, Arthur. Think about this. Isn’t it suspicious that Three, of all people, will come strolling back here after One had done so much to block him out?”

Again, Arthur raised an eyebrow. “One,” he said carefully, “Is a child, Irina. Five. Just keep with it.”

Neither of them noticed One, who followed Arthur out of the kitchen.

Arthur followed Three’s impatient footsteps down a series of hallways and turns, and One watched, although suddenly he felt fear gripping him. There was only Arthur and Three in the cold, white room. And One. One, the child. One, who was smarting with rage at Arthur for letting himself get stolen away by that girl. Three, who was full of triumph, because he had the ultimate trump card waiting up his sleeve. Three, whose sword glinted sharply in the blank white light of the room, and Three, who was sure to win. Even through his hurt, One could somehow sense this.

“You slipped, Two,” Three said almost cheerfully. “You slipped pretty badly. And you know that I would be waiting to catch you.”

“What are you getting at, Three?” Arthur was sharp in tone, as if he was trying to cut something.

“Treachery,” Three replied easily. “Treason. It’s a term you should be well acquainted with…Arthur Tudor.”

“Treachery?” Arthur almost laughed. “Whatever for?”

“For leaking our secret out to the enemy, of course. And by the rules of the Council, you must die,” Three said suddenly, harshly, flashing down with his sword, but Arthur dodged, and a crack appeared in the side of the chair. Arthur, seeing the crack, grinned an elated grin and took out his own blade to counter it. Then One remembered how cautious Arthur had always been, and for a second felt relieved, but –

The two started to fight. Stroke after stroke the dealt each other, but it was proving to be counterproductive to Three’s goals, for Arthur had always been able to fight better. He was beat back steadily, but One noticed that he was smiling. Smirking, rather, for when Arthur had finally gotten him pinned to the wall, there was a flash of silver – Three had discarded his sword for the dagger hidden up his sleeve.

His own ace of spades, you might say.

“You have failed One, Arthur Tudor,” Three said softly

“How do you mean? I have always been there…”

“You let yourself – get – stolen, Arthur Tudor,” Three hissed, “And I have permission to kill. Because I was there, and One was there, that night, where you were planning to leave, to betray us to the rest of the world, where you let yourself get bewitched by that girl.”

“You’re wrong,” Arthur, who had up until that point looked a little confused, suddenly snapped into focus. “I was never going to leave One. We were going to go away, Three. And I was going to take him with me, to somewhere better than your empty promises and harsh ways, where he didn’t have to keep playing the part of a child –”

“One hates you!” Three screamed, his face twisted, “He has never listened to you. He has always followed my council, and he always will. And you, you have failed where I have won. He hates you. He wants you to die, for betraying him. And so you shall. I hope you die in despair, worthless,” he said softly, his voice full of venom.

“Fleance –” Arthur started, and Three took the moment to reverse their positions, to stab, and then Arthur gasped, and Fleance covered his eyes and ears with a scream, and then Three was laughing, triumphant. And Arthur, Arthur lay on motionless on the cold stone floor, his blood running red, lifeless.

Oh, God.

“Come along, One,” Three commanded, “I know you’re there.” Fleance looked helplessly at the body of Arthur, his friend and brother that never betrayed him, and then at Three, whose blade was still shining scarlet.

“I never hated you, Arthur,” he said, “I’m sorry…”

“One,” Three said coldly, suddenly seeing a change. “Would you like to join him?”

No. No. There were things to set in order…people to avenge. Fleance narrowed his eyes at Three, and followed him out the door.

*

There was an elongated silence when Fleance returned to the kitchen, head bowed, deep shadows under his eyes that had sprung up almost in an instant. Irina stood up with a clang, demanding him where Three was, and Lia stared at the ground in silence, and Hito said nothing, just stared.

“Three went…out,” Fleance mumbled, his voice shaking.

Silence reigned again, until Irina demanded, fiercely, “Where’s Arthur?”

“I – he –” but he was still processing, unable to believe any of what had happened. It was like being shoved underwater. He trembled all over, but couldn’t find the right words to say any of what he was feeling, so he just fell, down to his knees, bursting into tears.

“Where is he?” Irina snapped.

“I don’t…” Fleance gasped out. Someone pulled him up, sitting him down into a chair. They waited until he could talk coherently, until he raised his head, fixing red eyes on them all. Red eyes, like Hito’s.

*

Numbly, they sat at the table. Three had gone, and no one knew where he went, and no one really cared, but it seemed that with Arthur’s death, life in the castle grinded to a complete halt. Lia stopped cooking dinner, stopped cleaning, and Irina stopped planning, and Hito just stared into the fire, staring and staring, thinking thoughts of his own, thoughts that he didn’t tell anyone else, not even Irina. And Fleance lived in the kitchen, not really awake but not completely asleep, lifting his head only to drink water.

They lingered in that state for a few hours, until the sun had gone down and up again, when suddenly Fleance stood, a little hunched over as if he didn’t want his bones to support his body. “I’m going to look for him.”

“I’ll come too,” Irina said, moving slowly.

Hito followed, too, and Lia got up wordlessly, but all Hito could think about was why this had happened, and how had this happened. Three had gone away, and Fleance had let him back? When did Fleance do this? His head spun. This started with Fleance, he realized. It started with this broken, abandoned boy who had been scouring the world for a companion. But why had the companion died…?

Was this an alliance? Was this what an alliance was?

This was not a family, he realized now. Not in the same sense. He knew that if any one of them decided to leave, it would be in pairs – triplets, at the most, and they would never find each other again. Still, though, it made no sense. Unless something had happened. Unless Three had found out. But there was no way that Three could have found out, he reasoned to himself. Could there?

Or couldn’t there?

He thought back, back to that day when Icarus had found him here, when he thought that everyone was going so well. He would free Arthur and Irina and himself, and he could go back home. But now he couldn’t go home, not when him arriving here was the reason everything fell apart so quickly. Destroyed from the inside – how ironic. The Council was a perfect depiction of internal turmoil, wrought by petty rivalries, grudges, cowardice, intricacy, lies.

He followed Fleance’s small form. How painful it must be, he thought, to be a child forever, to never experience the joys of the world that came with growing up. Did Fleance remember anything of his past? Hito had to wonder at this. Fleance was not as old as he, but he had all but forgotten – in fact, he no longer remembered Emiko’s face, or even his father’s face, just a name…a laugh…

Fleance led them down an odd number of twists before coming upon a set of wooden doors, which opened into a surprisingly white, light-filled room.

None of them stepped inside.

Hito’s eyes scanned the room, searching. He felt Irina grasp his arm. “There,” she said, amid the hacks of furniture – wooden chairs and tables that had probably been splintered into bits by the fight…

There was Arthur, lying on the ground, his skin no longer healthy, even tanned, with life, but waxen. Porcelain, really. Like plaster, Hito thought. Clay represented life. Plaster represented death – and marble represented immortality, he recalled. Nothing about Arthur seemed to be like marble, except maybe his eyes. But his eyes were closed. The four of them hesitated at the door, a little, and then Fleance stumbled, falling into the room, running over –

“Arthur,” he heard the boy whisper.

It was an odd sight, the nine-year-old child falling onto the body of the deceased prince, mindless of the blood that was everywhere, smeared on the walls and the pool of it beneath Arthur still not solidifying. Fleance didn’t say anything more, and not really having to say anything more. They were there in that cold white room for what felt like centuries.

Then it happened.

Fleance had cried himself to sleep, his head nested on Arthur’s chest, the rest of his body curled up in the cold. Half of his face was stained with Arthur’s blood, but no one really noticed. They were all looking at the light particles hovering above, which seemed at first to be floating bits of dust, although dust rarely shimmered. The particles had sucked up all the warmth in the room, because Hito just realized that everyone’s feet were frozen to the floor, and heat was radiating from where Arthur was. The heat, along with the light intensified, until it was bright, too bright, and Fleance slept on, not noticing.

But as abruptly as the light had appeared, it disappeared. The warmth diluted equally throughout the room again, leaving it not much warmer, and the light vanished so that it was once again cold and white, not golden-warm. And then Hito looked hard at where Fleance was, realizing suddenly that Arthur had disappeared. Fleance was sound asleep on the floor, no trace of blood anywhere, and no sign of the fight that had taken place except for the furniture that had been hacked to pieces.

*

Oh, God.

Oh, my God.

*

It was worse when Fleance woke up, realizing that Arthur was gone, gone, gone. And then he screamed, one long, drawn-out syllable that shattered his heart into so many pieces that it couldn’t possibly be put back together again.

Like a brother. Like a father. Like a friend. The phrases whirled around in his brain, around and around, not stopping. Arthur was gone forever, not just during Mondays to Fridays like it had been in Germany so many years ago – forever.

Days had passed before Hito decided to talk to Gumi. Fleance, it seemed, had not stirred from the kitchen table, not after that long, horrid search for Arthur’s body. He could still see it if he closed his eyes – they had found it on the second day, lying in against the wall, blue eyes closed, everywhere red, brown, more red. And then they had stood there until filters of light started streaming from it, unblinking, until it solidified into something ethereal, and when it had cleared, there was nothing.

If Hito closed his eyes he could still hear Fleance screaming. It didn’t make him any more sympathetic.

But what was he going to tell Megumi? He had not thought about home for days, until Irina had pointed out that someone should tell her before she came back, because she’d been Arthur’s lover, right? Hito focused blankly on the wall. He had been so detached from Japan for the last few days that not even Icarus was on his mind, but now, in a rush, everything came back. Megumi. He wondered how far anyone could go to break her. He thought back to World War II and shuddered. He didn’t want to be the one to break her, all over again.

“It’s got to be you,” Irina tried to reason; “You’re her brother, right? We’re all strangers here, Hito. If she’s anything like me…you said she was a lot like me…she would not want a stranger telling this to her.”

“But I don’t – I can’t –”

“I know. But you have to. If I could, I would do this, but she doesn’t know me at all.”

Hito wondered which was worse, telling her or not telling her. But the Council was completely different from the last time she’d visited, and he feared that it would be even more different, less pleasantly so, the next time she came. Maybe he was just suffering from lack of sleep, but the argument made sense in his head, and he steeled his nerves and forced himself to walk all the way across the kitchen to the phone on the wall.

At home, they put the phone in the kitchen too.

His hand was now on the phone, dialing the numbers quickly, trying to avoid thinking about what he was supposed to say and hoping that maybe she wouldn’t be home. The phone beeped in his ear while he waited for someone to pick up.

“Hello?” a voice, thankfully male, picked up.

Hito stared at the phone, suddenly afraid to talk.

“Hello?” the voice repeated.

“…Shuichi,”

“Hito! You’re…calling…” Shuichi’s voice trailed off. Hito took a breath.

“Can I talk to Gumi?” he asked, finally, and then there was a period of rustling, and a distinct yell, what seemed to be a thud, and then, to his infinite pain, Megumi took up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Gumi.”

Maybe she caught on to the heaviness of his voice, because she didn’t reply. Hito took another deep breath, and plunged straight into it – “Gumi, he’s gone.”

On the other end, Hito heard nothing. He clenched his fist and continued, “Three killed him, Gumi. None of us saw it, but we found – I’m sorry, Megumi.”

Then, suddenly, the other end flares into life. “Wh-what?” she snapped. “That can’t be true, what are you talking about, Hito?”

The silence was all-compassing. Overpowering. “He’s dead, Gumi,” each time he said it, it sounded worse, “Three killed him. Alone. I don’t know the details, but we found him. Three disappeared.”

Again, nothing. Hito tried hard not to imagine Gumi’s face. Then he heard a sharp click as the call was terminated. He held onto the phone long after the automated voice told him to please try dialing again, until Irina plucked it from his hand, set it back, her face probing his.

“It’s not your fault,” she said, “It’s not anyone fault but –”

“She’s going to die,” he said glumly, “And I was the one who –”

“Hito. Stop this.”

“It’s Three,” a new voice, a child’s voice, chimed in unexpectedly. “I’m going to kill Three.”

Fleance, still seated at the table, stared straight at them. “Don’t you dare stop me.”

wordcount: 3235

ETERNITY, COUNCIL. PART TEN.

X

The first sensation was one of blankness. She seemed to be floating in midair, through a field of white – transparent sort of white. In the distance she could hear a voice, but she had no idea whose voice it was, or where it was coming from, or what it was saying. But the transparent-white space she was floating around in was light, and quite nice, so she did nothing to resist.

It is not a nice thing to leave the peaceful feeling, especially now.

Lia was immediately aware of her body hurting all over. Something sticky – and crusty – was on her face, and her shirt was wet, and so were her pants, not wet in the cool, refreshing way like during a snowball fight, but rather in a way that made her spine crawl with imaginary insects and feel extremely frightened. She couldn’t move. She discovered this when her finger twitched and a jolt of pain shot through her arm, up to her head.

And then that voice. It was still there, an oddly persistent little voice. It said, Wake up, your work is not done.

“I hate working,” she mumbled in reply.

You will never find peace if you don’t finish this. Wake up, Lia.

“Who are you?”

A shape began to materialize through the blankness she saw, swirling and then hardening into something solid – a small figure, maybe a child of nine or ten, with sun-colored hair…

“Leo?”

“Are you okay, Four?”

How did Leo know about her being called Four?

Straining against her protesting brain, she opened her eyes to stare blankly into One’s face, her pupils pinpoints in the center of her eyes… “One?”

“What happened?” One demanded, pointing to her blood that smeared the carpet and the bed and looking extremely anxious. “Who did this?”

Lia opened her mouth to speak but found that she couldn’t say anything without crying, and crying hurt her head, her stomach, her shoulders, and her face, which stung when tears washed over the cuts on it, so One just shook his head. He headed into her bathroom, returning with a giant wet towel, which his child’s limbs struggled with, and wiped off all the blood on her skin.

“Can you move?” he asked softly. She shook her head slightly – it was all that she could do. He bit his lip, trying to think, and then, with a quiet apology, inflicted a blow to her head and that was last thing she felt before blacking out.

*

It was a quiet, cold winter day in 1924, in windy New York. Rosalia, eighteen years old, penniless, and shy, was hiding from the biting atmosphere by huddling against a man’s great coat. The man happened to be the newspaper boy, a man that reminded her a little bit of Eros, the god of love.

“Shall I buy you a drink, sweetheart?” he asked. “There’s a café, just a block away – come, I’ll take you there.”

“I – cold,” she managed to say in reply, looking up into the dark eyes of the man and feeling herself melting a little, as if his eyes could warm her. They could, rather. Her Italian accent was thick, revoltingly so, she thought, painfully obvious even in the two syllables she had uttered.

“It is,” the young American replied. His hair was dark, too, darker than hers – a smooth, military cropped black. He had fought in the war, but seemed to have suffered no injury to show for it. He smiled cheerily at her, “Come on, Rose.”

He was the only person to call her Rose.

“Yes,” she heard herself replying. She smiled, too, and he laughed delightedly, gave her his scarf, and took her into the merry little coffee shop.

“How do you like your coffee?” he asked politely.

“S-sugar,” she stammered out, “And…cream.”

“Sugar and cream. And coffee as well, I hope?” he teased. She blushed up to the roots of her hair and nodded, timidly. “Good deal, Rose. Two coffees please, one black,” he said to the waiter, “Anything to eat, miss?”

Lia shook her head.

“Well, that’ll be all, then!” he said, pulling out a wallet and handing a piece of paper – was that really money? – to the waiter, who pocketed it with a smile. The boy, Laurence, turned back to her. “So…how’ve you been? I haven’t seen you for a while.”

“G-good,” she said, “And you?”

“Molto buono,” he grinned. His grin was infectious. She grinned back.

Trovommi Amor del tutto disarmato
et aperta la via per gli occhi al core,
che di lagrime son fatti uscio et varco

Love found me all disarmed and found the way
was clear to reach my heart down through the eyes
which have become the halls and doors of tears.

– Petrarca, Love Sonnets to Laura

For the next few months Rosalia went about like a lovesick fool – which, all things considered, she probably was. Occasionally she would meet up with Laurence and they would snag a cup of coffee together, and those few half-hours were like minutes in heaven. She found herself looking forward to late afternoons, when she would go home the long way to see if she could catch a glimpse of him. She deluded herself into thinking that maybe he was trying to do the same, when he lifted his cap at her and came running with that bright, eager smile of his.

She taught him a few phrases in Italian, but steered clear of the one she so wanted to say to him. In turn, he attempted to improve her English, and made a lot of progress, so that by mid-February her accent was much less noticeable.

One day, he gave her a little flower. “Token of friendship,” he explained, but she already knew that her face was red, red, red, and she thought that maybe there was something more in his dark, dark eyes that fixed on her own so steadily…

It was a clear spring day, in 1925, and New York was bustling once again with the coming of warmth and growth and blossom. They sat in the same café, except this time it was warm. Rosalia fidgeted with her fingers, nervously, as Laurence stared at her and waited for her to speak.

“Ti amo,” she blurted out, red-faced.

“Sorry?” he asked.

“I love you,” she said in a tiny, tiny voice. Hope and doubt thudded in her chest, struggling, making her heart hurt like it never had before. She didn’t dare look at his face, but kept on staring at her ice cream, watching it while it melted, like her hope did when he didn’t speak.

“Rose,” he said finally in a peculiar voice. “I’m sorry.”

The last of the ice cream melted into a miserable puddle. Tears brimmed over her eyes and splattered onto the table.

“I’m engaged,” he continued. “I’m sorry.”

*

Lia opened her eyes again, this time finding that instead of the throbbing pain, it was more of a needle-like stinging. Her clothes had been changed – how, she did not know and did not really think about it, but there was no more blood, only layer after layer of bandages.

“You’re awake!” it was One, exclaiming this joyfully, rushing over to hug her.

“What happened?” she managed to say, realizing that her face was bandaged. Painfully, too, although in a good way.

“I have no idea,” One frowned. “I didn’t think anyone in this castle would hurt you this badly – I mean, Five is sort of scary at times but the worst she’s done is –”

“I mean,” Lia interrupted shyly, “What did you do?”

“Oh!” One said cheerfully, ecstatic again in a moment. “I cleaned your room and wiped off all that blood, and everything, see?” Lia’s eyes flickered around painfully, realizing that yes, indeed, her room was quite spotless. She looked at One. He’d done all of this by himself? It was hard to believe.

“Thank you,” she said after a moment, after One had gleefully showed her that her dirty clothes were in the wash-pile. Then she smiled a little, but felt a little drowsy, so One left, closing the door behind him, and let her sleep.

*

“Three,” Fleance said coldly, catching up with the older man a few hallways down from Four’s room.

“Afternoon, sire,” Three replied pleasantly.

Fleance took a cold, measuring look at Three, the one that he sometimes saw Three himself give. Something was off about this – the way the rest of the castle was wondering about Four, how Three wasn’t wondering about Four at all, but rather walking around with that triumphant smirk of his –

“It was you,” he said, his voice packed into ice.

“What was me?” Three asked.

“It was you! You hurt Four, didn’t you?” Fleance lost his cool, yelling right into Three’s face, and Three just stood back, watching and listening with that goddamn smirk on his face, like he knew everything and was proud of it. “I can’t believe this – I never expected you out of all people to hurt anyone like that!”

“Four is a traitor,” Three began, but Fleance cut him off angrily.

“ARE YOU SERIOUS? FOUR?” he screamed, “FOUR? Look at her! You’re out of your mind, Three – you’ve gone too far! So what if Four’s a traitor? You’re the one who brought her here in the first place, why are you hurting her? Did you change her to hurt her?”

Three said nothing. Fleance jabbed his fist hard into Three’s arm. “Answer me!”

“I stand by what I’ve said,” Three shrugged carelessly. Fleance’s eyes widened into pale blue, with his pupils black points in the center. He struggled with words for a few seconds, and then said, softly but quite distinctly,

“Leave.”

“Leave?” Three almost laughed.

“Leave! Go away! And don’t come back, no matter what!” Fleance shrieked furiously, brushing past him angrily.

Three walked calmly out of the castle doors, saying nothing, but knowing much. He would leave – but he would return, in a day, a week, a month, a year if he had to. He had one ambition right now, and that was to gain control of Fleance – and he would stop at nothing until he did, through whatever means he could devise.

*

The next morning, out of all mornings, Hito’s sisters decided to come back. Yume bounded straight up to the door, Megumi following, and behind them another boy – man, rather. It was a lovely fall morning. Lia went slowly down the stairs, all her hair combed in front of her face to hide the bandages, more frightened than usual. Yume was somewhat familiar to her, now, as was Megumi – but the stranger…

“Hi, Four!” Yume, enthusiastic as ever, seemed even more so.

Lia attempted to smile, but it made her face hurt, and besides, that man… “I’ll go get S-Seven for you,” she said slowly, but Yume shook her head.

“No need! We’re going to surprise him today.”

It was the man. He had to be the surprise. Lia nodded, slowly, and went back up the stairs to lie down, where Fleance was waiting eagerly to read her a story. She wondered what sort of story she was getting today – last night it had been “The Three Little Pigs” about ten times over.

When she pushed open the door to her room, Fleance was sitting on her bed. “Hi, Four!” he greeted, in a way that was eerily reminiscent of Yume.

“Hello,” she replied a little warily.

“Sit,” he instructed, a little comically for someone so young. Lia sat. “Lie down,” he continued. She obeyed, and he moved off the bed to give her space.

“Sleep,” he commanded, leaving her in the room, “And don’t wake up until I come get you for dinner.” Obediently, Lia slept, laying her heavy head down for a few hours of peace and rest.

*

“Icarus,” Hito said slowly, carefully. His brother, reunited, looked at him questioningly. “Three is your creator.”

Icarus rose from his chair in a flash of movement, startling Hito, but Hito waited for him to sit down again. Icarus looked so conflicted that for once Hito wished for the ability to convey his feelings through words, but finding none, could only stare. Finally, though, Icarus asked him hollowly, “Well, then, what are you going to do? You’re in the Council, and yet…there’s – him.”

Three.

Three, who had apparently left – but Hito knew he would come back. By that time, however…Two and Five had planned, with him – Hito had a very good idea of what was going to happen. “I suppose I’ll – wait it out.”

Icarus looked as if he would have liked to oppose that argument. But he didn’t, only asked in that impulsive, impatient manner, “But if worse comes to worse, you’ll come home…right?”

Hito had to think about this. Hesitating, he tried to find words yet again, to somehow explain to Icarus that they weren’t really going to wait it out but not wanting to risk anyone else hearing – he finally settled on “Yes…I’ll come home.”

Home, which was so far away.

*

Fleance opened the door to Lia’s room, once again, closing it silently behind him. She was fast asleep, which was just as well, because the idea he had in mind was too insane for him to start describing. Many plans had taken root in his mind, since the previous afternoon. The sun was just setting now – orange-red glows streamed in from the open window, creating one solid block of light that fell neatly on her hair, shining it almost red. It must have been the first decent nap she’d taken for decades.

The room was extremely quiet – Lia’s breathing was barely audible, as if she was afraid even in her sleep of making any noise. Fleance regarded her for a few moments, and then decided that maybe waking her up wasn’t quite worth the dinner she would cook, and took a quiet seat on the carpeted floor, his head leaning back against the wall. This must be the most peaceful spot in the whole castle – serene but not eerie like Three’s room was.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but the next thing he knew, someone was prodding at his shoulder gently, and the room was lit with a single dim lamp. Yawning, he rubbed his eyes, realized it was dark outside, and stood up fast enough to make all the blood leave his head. He swayed slightly on the spot and stumbled, but someone caught him. “What time?”

“Pretty late,” a slightly amused voice answered, and Fleance opened his eyes to see Arthur, looking down at him with one raised eyebrow. “What on earth are you doing here, One?”

“I came to get Four for dinner!” Fleance said defensively, “…but then I fell asleep.” Suddenly remembering that he still hadn’t “gotten Four for dinner” yet, he looked towards the bed, but it was empty. “Where is she?”

“She left about an hour ago,” Arthur replied, “She didn’t look too well, though.”

“Oh…” Fleance said, “What are you doing here?”

“I came to get you for dinner,” Arthur said, his lip twitching. “Come on.”

Fleance let Arthur send him down the stairs, wondering why Lia didn’t have the common sense to just take a rest when she earned one, but his thoughts were interrupted when he actually reached the kitchen, and the smell of a most heavenly-scented dinner met his nose.

Five and Seven were waiting for him, along with Lia, who had apparently been forced into a chair by Five, who looked slightly irritated. Fleance coughed slightly, and assumed the guise of One once again, plopping down into his chair and letting Two stick vegetables onto his plate. He picked out all the green ones, as usual, and then, as everyone stared at him, he cleared his throat. “Three left.”

No one responded to this, so he just let it go with a small, “Thought you ought to know. I sent him away.”

Ten minutes into the meal, Four was the one to pluck up the courage to ask, albeit fearfully, “Will he come back?”

“I don’t know.” I hope not.

*

Weeks passed before Fleance worked up the courage to talk to Lia, but when he finally did, the situation could not have been more ideal. Arthur and Five and Seven were going out to look at Christmas decorations, leaving Lia at home to baby-sit him. The minute they were out the door, Fleance had gone to her room.

“I have an idea,” he said. Lia turned her head to look at him. “Let’s run away, Four.”

“Wha?” she half-gasped, half-laughed. It was so sudden that she could only stare at him for a few minutes, trying to comprehend this. “R-run? Away? What on earth are you talking about, O-One?”

“Three will come back,” Fleance shrugged, “He won’t be very happy, and if I’m right – which I hope I’m not – he will do this all over again. Come on, Four. What do you think? We wouldn’t have to worry about him…ever again.”

He could see the eagerness in her eyes, and hastened to continue, “We could go anywhere you like. We could take the others with us, too – Ar – Two, and Five, and Seven. We could go to Italy, if you’d like. Or to America. Greece. France. China. Anywhere, just the five of us…without him.”

“Without him,” Lia repeated dreamily.

“Why don’t we?” Fleance asked, the plan solidifying, modifying in his mind to accommodate the others. He knew the castle like the back of his hand, including all the escape routes. They could hide in it for months and Three would never know…

“Should I tell Arth – Two?” why did he keep saying Arthur? Fleance frowned. Arthur was in the past. Arthur was Two, now, in the present.

“What?” Lia shook her head. “No. Not yet, One. We should plan this out c-carefully, so that there won’t be a single m-mistake.”

“That makes sense,” Fleance agreed. He looked excitedly at her, his childlike elation at the thought of an adventure shining through his whole face. “We’re going to run away!” he said happily.

Run away, like fleeing. Except this time, he won’t be running for his life, but away from it, towards a new one…

*

The weeks scuttled by like leaves on a wind, and both sides of the Council plotted and planned painstakingly. Arthur and Hito and Irina planned their escape, discussing Fleance at length, debating on if Lia was brave enough not to betray them, not knowing that at the same time, Fleance was sneaking off to Lia’s room to do the same with the others. For a time, peace reigned throughout the castle in Scotland, punctuated briefly by visits from Yume and Megumi. Christmas was drawing near, the grounds covered regularly by a sheet of white, white snow.

One night, Fleance decided to go tell Arthur.

It seemed to be a candlelit night, because every room he passed was lit by candles, and the halls were lighted with traditional torches like in the old days when he was still human, instead of the new electric bulbs that had felt so out of place. Fleance’s room was not far from Arthur’s, yet he took at least ten minute moving a foot from his own door. He was making fine progress, creeping along the shadows silently, hoping that Arthur would not magically hear him (as he was so adept at doing) and opening the door to demand what he was doing out of bed at this hour.

Arthur’s golden doorknob glinted in the dark. Fleance reached out a hand to grasp it when suddenly there was a hand on his should, and he gasped out loud, and whirled around, to see –

“You!”

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