Chapter 525: Chapter 513: Confusing
[Realm: Uhorus]
[Location: Verdantis]
[Capital City]
They had made their way out of the garden, though Alyssia had done so with noticeably more reluctance than she would ever willingly admit aloud. The moment they crossed beyond the threshold of Percival’s personal garden and returned to the castle proper, her gaze drifted back over her shoulder almost instinctively.
Only for a moment, then she quickly looked away as though she had never done so at all. It would not do to let anyone think she had become attached to a collection of flowers, particularly not Lucinda and Percival.
Unfortunately for her, she had hidden her interest terribly.
Throughout their entire time in the garden, her attention had repeatedly wandered towards the countless strange plants and flowers growing there. Every unusual petal, unfamiliar bloom and vibrant colour had managed to draw her eye despite her repeated attempts to remain composed.
Lucinda had noticed, and Percival had definitely noticed.
Alyssia suspected even the flowers themselves had noticed, which was deeply irritating.
But now the three of them walked through the vast hallways of the castle once more; red carpets stretched beneath their feet, tall windows allowed light to spill across the floors, and portraits of long-dead figures watched silently.
The two fellow spawns walked side by side while Percival led several paces ahead of them; Alyssia watched his back. Studied it and judged it.
And found herself growing increasingly irritated.
("Does he really believe a mere interaction with Lyra will ease our concerns?") The thought surfaced dryly; it all sounded ridiculous.
Naive, even.
Trust was not something built through a single conversation, nor was it something earned because someone claimed they deserved it, and trust was certainly not something offered simply because a person smiled politely and spoke softly.
Yet Percival had suggested it with complete sincerity, as though he genuinely believed it would help and he genuinely believed they would see something worth seeing.
And that was what bothered her, because the Archbishop did not feel naive, not even slightly. He never appeared rushed or flustered, and he never seemed caught off guard. Even when she insulted him, questioned his motives and openly challenged him.
Nothing changed; the same patient expression sat there with the same composed demeanour and annoying certainty. It was almost as though he already knew exactly how every conversation would unfold.
And Alyssia hated that feeling.
("He’s up to something, no doubt... I hope Lucinda sees this.") Her eyes shifted sideways; Lucinda walked quietly besides her. Armour clicking with each step, the younger spawn appeared just as lost in thought as she was.
Her gaze was distant, focused somewhere beyond the hallway.
Alyssia found herself studying her for a moment, trying to understand her. Trying to understand why she seemed so willing to entertain Percival’s request. Why she seemed so willing to hear him out and why she seemed so content to give him the benefit of the doubt.
("But it doesn’t feel like simple naivety...") That was the problem; at first Alyssia had assumed it was innocence. Simple youthful optimism, the sort of thing people possessed before life had thoroughly disappointed them.
But the longer she spent around Lucinda, the less that explanation fit; there was too much exhaustion hidden behind her eyes.
She already came to the conclusion that Lucinda was kind, but she was not naive.
("But I know...") Alyssia’s expression dimmed. ("There is no innocence for a spawn of Octavia... none at all.")
Her gaze lowered, following the patterned carpet beneath their feet. The sound of their footsteps was all that filled the silence. For a few moments neither spoke, then Lucinda glanced sideways.
She had been watching Alyssia longer than Alyssia realised.
"Something on your mind?" Lucinda whispered quietly; the question was gentle.
Alyssia almost dismissed it immediately; it would have been easier. Yet the entire situation had been irritating her since the moment Percival approached them.
"You seem pretty content with following along with him." She gestured vaguely towards the Archbishop walking ahead. Her tone remained casual, but Lucinda caught the underlying scepticism immediately.
"I merely think we can give him a chance," Lucinda answered.
Simple and very honest, exactly as Alyssia expected.
Alyssia sighed.
"Are a few honeyed words enough to win you over?"
Lucinda blinked and actually considered the question. Then gave the most alarming answer possible.
"Maybe."
Alyssia stared, then slowly pinched the bridge of her nose. A sigh escaped her; it was long and suffering.
"You’re not supposed to admit it, you know?" She glanced sideways. "At least pretend your reasoning is a tad more complex."
Lucinda looked genuinely confused. "That would just be lying, though."
Alyssia closed her eyes; for one brief moment she genuinely could not argue against that.
Lucinda continued before she could respond.
"It’s just..." Her voice softened. "If there truly is a powerful mage within that tree..." Her gaze drifted ahead, towards Percival. "And if they could help with these calamities..." She paused for a moment, and Alyssia noticed the slight tension in her shoulders. The way her fingers tensed and the way her eyes briefly lowered. "...then we need to do something."
Alyssia studied her quietly and registered every shift, hint of hesitation and strain hidden beneath her calm exterior.
And suddenly she understood, at least a little. This was not about trust, nor was it about optimism. Lucinda was not following because she believed Percival unquestionably deserved the chance. She was following because she needed there to be a chance, any chance.
No matter how small.
"You know we are not duty bound, correct?" Alyssia stated.
Lucinda blinked, turning her head toward her fellow spawn with a look of genuine confusion. The question had come so suddenly that for a moment she simply stared.
Alyssia’s gaze lingered on Lucinda for a few moments longer before she continued.
"Those with power have no obligation to throw their lives on the line," she said quietly. "Nor are they required to solve every problem placed before them."
Lucinda was silent for a moment; eventually she lowered her eyes.
"I know that," she mumbled.
Alyssia sincerely doubted it, not because Lucinda was dishonest, quite the opposite. Lucinda believed those words; she simply did not live by them.
Alyssia had known her for only a short time, yet already she could see it. The instinctive way Lucinda accepted responsibility. The way every conversation eventually circled back toward helping others. Toward fixing something. Toward carrying another burden.
It was familiar.
"Do you?" Alyssia asked softly.
Lucinda glanced toward her. "What?"
"Do you truly know that?" Alyssia questioned. "Because from where I’m standing, it sounds as though you’ve convinced yourself otherwise."
Lucinda frowned. "I don’t understand."
Alyssia released a quiet breath.
"People love saying things like responsibility and duty," she said. "They make those words sound noble. Beautiful, even. But eventually those same words become chains." Her gaze drifted forward. "And once someone becomes accustomed to carrying chains, they stop noticing how heavy they are."
Lucinda listened quietly; she did not immediately argue. Maybe because Alyssia’s voice lacked judgment.
"Even so, we spawns of Octavia are different," Lucinda started, her voice growing firmer. "Much more different." Her gaze briefly shifted toward one of the enormous windows, outside, to the wounded sky stretched above Verdantis.
Dark tears split on the skies; even from here she could see them, and the sight made her stomach tighten.
"There are things only we can do," Lucinda continued quietly. "Things others simply can’t. And because of that... we need to help where we can."
"Maybe." Alyssia gave a slight shrug. "That still does not mean they should shoulder every burden when there are those who can share in it. And need to, huh."
She studied Lucinda’s expression carefully; the determination there was genuine. Not forced or taught through fear. It was simply part of who she was, and that was worse.
"How they tempered you at such a young age..." Alyssia mumbled beneath her breath.
The words escaped before she could stop them; Lucinda immediately tilted her head.
"Hm?"
Alyssia looked away.
"Nothing." Her answer came far too quickly. Lucinda narrowed her eyes slightly but chose not to press further.
For several moments neither of them spoke; only the sound of footsteps accompanied them. Alyssia’s eyes lowered toward the floor. Truthfully, she envied Lucinda a little. Not her power or optimism. She envied certainty; Lucinda possessed a direction and purpose. Even when the world became complicated, she somehow still knew where she stood.
Alyssia wasn’t sure she could say the same.
Three hundred years, Death, an Ancestor, Uriel, and being brought back.
The pieces of her life felt scattered and disconnected.
Sometimes she wasn’t entirely sure which thoughts belonged to her anymore. So seeing someone stand so firmly despite carrying similar burdens felt strange.
Alyssia released a slow breath, then pushed those thoughts away.
"Seems we’ll get our drama yet."
Lucinda followed her gaze; at first she didn’t understand.
Then she saw them; figures were approaching from the opposite end of the corridor.
Immediately recognizable.
Lyra and beside her was Guinevere, gloved hands folded neatly behind her back.
Notably absent were Fiona and Victoria.
Lucinda found herself blinking.
Alyssia folded her arms. "There they are."
Something about her tone suggested she already knew this conversation would become troublesome.
