Shackled Serenity

by Leon Logos

  “You look nice,” Sixto said, without looking at her.

  “Thank you,” she said, noticing his deliberate refusal to meet her eyes. “And so do you. I like the tuxedo. Very classy.”

  “Are we still meeting tonight?” Sixto whispered, loud enough for only her to hear. He said it surreptitiously, again without looking at her.

  “Yes,” she replied in a monotone. “I don’t think we have to worry about being overheard here. It’s a circu—”

  “People are always watching,” he cut her off, furtively glancing in all directions. “Change the subject. Where’d you get the dress?”

  “I don’t know, somebody keeps sending me them,” she shrugged. “Wow, look at Destiny. She’s gorgeous.”

  If anybody looked like a goddess, it was Destiny. Tall, noble, and glamorous in a sparkling dress and diamond earrings. The toned muscles in her arms were accentuated without the sleeves, yet she looked more feminine than a woman could look. She was seated next to Bastion, who also was in formal attire. Serenity gleaned that Bastion did not appear as assertive or self-important whenever he was with Destiny. On the contrary, he looked like the average youth.

  She finished the first entrée and was already full. There was still a cornucopia of global delicacies left to try out on the table, but she didn’t want to eat too much anyway. One meal was satisfying enough.

  After the entrees, dessert was served. Across the table, Dorian was visibly drunk, laughing hysterically with some other Councilmen she recognized. A group of Scandinavians were mirthfully singing a folksong from their native land, heartily causing a fracas with their composed neighbors. It was a merry, boisterous atmosphere, but also sophisticated and elegant at the same time. This was what the life of a rich person entailed: attending fancy dinner parties like this. As joyful as it was, Serenity eventually wanted out from all the blissful gaiety. She tapped Sixto on the shoulder, who went off on a tangent with Lyla about French Polynesian islands.

  “What is it?”

  “Is it wrong if we leave now?” she asked quietly, low enough so that a prying Lyla couldn’t hear.

  “What’s wrong?” Sixto said concernedly.

  “Nothing, I just—I’d like to leave—from all this noise…”

  Sixto hesitated, eyeing Lyla out of the corner of his eye. Lyla was observing them through narrowed eyes, making a face she usually wore whenever Serenity said something suspicious or nettling. This time, it was justified; Lyla was discerning enough to assume that something was going on between her and Sixto. Serenity was not willing to get her involved.

  “All right, let’s go,” Sixto ushered. “But don’t look back. Just walk straight out. Nobody is going to care enough to gossip or anything.”

  She rose to her feet and left the table, crossing over to the exit, which was being guarded by two armed men. The men paid them no mind, letting them pass without issue. Serenity could feel Lyla’s wary gaze burning into her back the entire time. It was a relief when she was out of the Dining Hall. They minced across the spacious hallways without looking back, heading towards the living quarters. Staff intermittently lumbered past them, carrying boxes or crates. The whole house was decorated with the typical Christmas ornaments. Wreaths hung on the walls, poinsettias on the tables, garland on the stairs and banisters, even fake snow sprinkled here and there on the floor. It was fortunate that all the doors leading outside were closed, to keep the warm A/C in; it was painfully chilly tonight.

  The entrance to the living quarters, marked by the double staircase, was also guarded by soldiers. They did not move or speak, eyes facing forward, weapons aloft. They bounced up the stairs to the second floor, passing the lounge in the loft, entering the left corridor where Sixto’s chamber was. He unlocked it with a key and led her inside. His room was comparable to hers, minus the makeup and jewelry on the dressing table, and the wardrobe full of dresses. The walls were a stale sage color, mesmerizing her eyes with its insipid, dry hue. Sixto’s weapons, clothes, and armor were scattered on the floor in messy heaps. Sheepishly, he scrambled to pick them up and place them in the proper locations.

  “Sorry, my room’s a mess,” he apologized. “I don’t get guests.”

  “Don’t the maids clean your chamber?” she said, waving it off.

  “Not today, I guess. So what did you want to talk about?”

  “Could you shut the curtains?” she pointed, noting the open emerald curtains failing to drape the clear glass window.

  Serenity took a seat by the edge of his bed, not minding that it was unmade. She wasn’t a very fastidious person. Sixto shut the curtains promptly and then stood in front of her with his arms folded, waiting patiently. Serenity stared at him blankly.

  “You’re not going to sit?”

  “Nope. I’m fine here,” he said. “Ready?”

  “Okay,” she took a deep breath. “But you have to promise me something in return. When I tell you, I need you to tell me something too.”

  “Okay,” Sixto said casually. “What do you want me to tell you?”

  “Where I can find the secret passage to the jailhouse,” she said forthrightly, not a quiver in her voice.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  “Why would you want to know that?” Sixto asked, dazed.

  “Because I need to access the jailhouse, but it’s being guarded around the clock,” she said urgently. “They’re not letting anybody in.”

  “But WHY would you want to go in?”

  “There’s someone I need to see,” Serenity said, attempting to avoid the specifics; she aimed to prevaricate as long as she could.

  “Who? What scumbag locked up in that place could you possibly want to see?” Sixto said, bewildered, now seating himself next to her.

  “They’re—uh, new arrivals,” she equivocated.

  “Serenity,” Sixto said sharply. “What are you hiding? Who?”

  She clasped her hands together, bowing her head. There was no hiding it anymore. Avoiding the truth would be a disrespectful move on her part. She had agreed to tell him everything.

  “My brothers,” she sighed.

  “What?” Sixto yelped. “Your ‘brothers’?! The Carlisles?”

  “Yeah,” she said, a tad anxious; there was no reversing time, he knew now. “But not all of them. Just two of them.”

  “And they’re here? In the jailhouse?”

  She nodded again.

  “The intruders,” Sixto said, comprehension blooming in his face. “That’s who they were! Those demons killed our sentinels!”

  “Yeah, and now they’re being locked up, and I don’t even know what their sentence is going to be.”

  “Is that where you went with the Council?” Sixto asked fervently. “To the jailhouse, to go and see them?”

  “Yeah, and I only had ten minutes to speak with them,” she nodded. “I need more time. Which is why I need your help!”

  “More time to what?” Sixto said pointedly. “I thought you hated them. Didn’t you make a commitment to forget about them completely?”

  “I did,” she admitted. “But then all of a sudden, they’re back! It just racked my brain so hard. I didn’t know what to do or how to feel!”

  “They were here to attack us, Serenity,” Sixto maintained. “And they did. Men are dead because of them!”

  “I know! But they weren’t here to attack us, Sixto.”

  “Why the hell would they be here, then? To grab YOU?”

  “Yeah, believe it or not,” she said softly. “Though, I’m not sure I do.”

  “Again,” Sixto said, confounded, “they hated you, right?”

  “Yeah, they did. Look, I don’t get their reasoning. Which is why I need some more time to speak with them. I have so many questions to ask. So many things to say. They burn at my thoughts every second!”

  She pulled at the roots of her hair, feeling frustrated all of a sudden. It was moderately cold in Sixto’s chamber, but the room temperature suddenly felt likewise to stifling Arizona o
n a summer afternoon. Sixto started to pace up and down the room, restlessly pounding his fists against his palms.

  “Why did Uncle Ali keep this secret from us?” he asked indignantly. “From ALL of us? And he told you, the NEWEST member of the family!”

  “I have history with them—of course, they would let me know first,” she said cogently. “I guess it was common decency.”

  “Okay, if I did decide to help you,” Sixto exhaled, “what exactly are you going to talk about with them?”

  “That’s my business, Sixto,” she said, as politely as feasible. “I know it may be risky doing this. But I’m just asking for a favor. We’re friends, right?”

  Reminding him of this fact, which Sixto clearly treasured, was a cheap tactic to employ. She valued their friendship too, but she was desperate. She pushed away the notion that she was exploiting their friendship.

  “Fine. I’ll show you the way.”

  “Thanks so much,” she said, relieved, hugging him on instinct.

  Sixto quickly retracted from the embrace after a second.

  “But it’ll be risky, no doubt about it. We’re breaking the rules even harder. I’m a master at sneaking out at night, but I’ve never done it with someone else. You want to do it tonight?”

  “If you’re up to it, I am,” she said confidently.

  “Okay,” said Sixto. “But I still want to know more. What reason would they have for wanting you back? I mean, you still were their sister?”

  “They never treated me like a sibling,” Serenity shook her head. “I was part of the family, but I was the disgraceful one.”

  “I guess we’ll ask them when we get there. I really suggest you say your goodbyes and then just leave it at that. They’ll most likely be executed, so I hope you don’t have any feelings for them.”

  “Is it confirmed?” she asked. “Execution?”

  “I don’t know, they never told us anything,” Sixto said, nettled. “But it’s not an erroneous guess. They’re war criminals. Mortal enemies.”

  “Yeah…”

  “Why just the two of them?” Sixto inquired further. “Didn’t you have five brothers? They’re idiotic to come with just two.”

  “The less, the better,” she said uncertainly. “And the others, according to them, didn’t come. Gunther ordered them to forget about me, but those two disobeyed and came. It’s shocking, too. One of them here, he was the leader. You would never see him defy Gunther.”

  “I’m just as curious as you, honestly,” said Sixto. “Listen. 1:00 AM sharp; I’ll come to knock on your door. We have to get back now.”

  “Okay,” she said, standing up.

  She followed Sixto out of the chamber. They both came to a halt, noticing Lyla leaning against the wall in the hall. She was smirking at them. Sixto glowered at her.

  “You followed us,” he groaned. “Were you eavesdropping too?”

  “You mean, was I pressing my ear against the doors?” Lyla simpered. “Nope, I didn’t feel like I had to. I figured I’d hear you two from here.”

  “We were just talking,” Sixto said irritably. It irked Serenity how nosy Lyla was.

  “Whatever you say,” Lyla said dully. “Anyway, no point in returning to the Dining Hall. Just go back to your chamber.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because all the food’s virtually gone, and all the drunks are taking a fat nap,” said Lyla. “If I were you, I’d just continue with my intimate affairs.”

  “I’ll see you ton—I mean tomorrow, Serenity,” Sixto said quickly, stepping back into his room. “Good night.”

  “Good night,” she said, watching him leave.

  There was an awkward moment of silence between her and Lyla. “Watch yourself with Sixto,” she said noncommittally.

  “It’s so obvious what you two are up to. And what you’ll be doing.”

  “You should watch yourself, no disrespect,” Serenity replied, confident enough that Lyla was unaware of their plan. “You’re too snoopy…”

  Lyla gaped at her, with a mixture of interest and offense.

  “Excuse me?” she snarled, like some entitled child. “Watch who you’re talking to, newbie! I’m not the new girl in town, YOU are.”

  It could’ve been much worse. Lyla neither swore nor got heated to the extent of screaming. With this said, Lyla stormed off. Serenity frowned, still unsure of why Lyla disliked her so much. It was troubling; she didn’t hate Lyla but sought to comprehend why they didn’t get along.

  The first thing she did when she returned to her chamber was to get out of the dress she had on and peel off all the makeup. She then took a quick shower and changed into more casual clothing. It was only 9:00 PM. Another four hours to go. There was nothing much to do in her room to pass time. Her time spent mostly constituted being with Lily or Sixto, perambulating the grounds, or watching movies.

  She lay on her bed flat on her back, ruminating deeply. Desmos and Kyler could’ve been moved or disposed of by now. But she had to confirm it to put her mind at ease. Her questions could not remain unanswered. In her state of pensive, soporific contemplation, she fell asleep promptly.

  “Forget it,” she said adamantly, taking consecutive sips of water from her sports bottle. She took more sips than she performed reps. “I can’t.”

  “You’re light, you can do at least five,” said Kyler placidly.

  He was attempting to persuade her to use the pull-up bar. They were at a local gym in the outskirts of Denver. It was “gym-day,” which was supposed to be a day of respite from the rigorous training they endured. After three sets of push-ups, two sets of cable tricep extensions, and three sets of arm curls, she was done. Exhausted and dead. And she wasn’t even close to finished, still having to work on legs.

  “Get to your feet then,” said Kyler. “If Desmos sees you slacking, he’s going to make you suffer. I mean it.”

  “I know,” she groaned, using a nearby bench for support to raise her up.

  She had to admit, the gym was more preferable. It was more tolerable exercise, there was cool air conditioning, and there were people around.

  “Try the treadmill,” Kyler suggested. “I’m sick of cardio, I’ve had enough of it this morning,” she said disdainfully. “I’m sick of all of this.”

  “Yeah, you love to whine. But here’s the thing—do you know any other fourteen-year-old girls that undergo intense strength conditioning?”

  “Really?” she said, unamused. “You think training like hell is what every teenage girl fantasizes about? What every girl aspires to be? Killers?”

  “I’d like to think,” Kyler shrugged, folding his arms.

  His sleeveless shirt, and the shadows produced by the indoor lighting, accentuated his biceps and triceps; Kyler was certainly more muscular than the average fourteen-year-old boy. Not buff, just chiseled and fit.

  “Give me five minutes, I need to rest,” she said forcefully.

  “You’ve rested for an eternity, and you barely did crap,” Kyler said pointedly. “You want to bench yet? You’ve never done it.”

  “No, I don’t want to.”

  “Yeah, you little girls love to squat, don’t you?” Kyler scoffed. “Look at Garen; he’s benching 300 lbs. That’s not even his max.”

  He sure was. He even attracted a crowd that was watching him put in reps with perfect form. Garen was boastful of his physical prowess.

  “Garen’s a giant, I don’t care,” she said scornfully.

  “Fine,” Kyler yielded. “How about barbell curls? Maybe boxing?”

  “Whatever,” Serenity said indifferently. “When are we leaving?”

  “Depends on you,” said Desmos, strutting up to her. “The faster you put in work until your muscles are torn, the faster we leave.”

  “My muscles are already dead,” she pleaded.

  “I’m aware of your pathetic limits, don’t try to escape,” said Desmos. “Get on the leg press. Then the squat rack.”

  “One of these days y
ou’re going to kill me,” she muttered indignantly.

  “One of these days you’re going to kill US,” Desmos rejoined. “Have us killed with your incompetence. I dread that our lives rest on your shoulders one day. Tell me, what would you do in that situation?”

  “I’d let you die,” she said bitterly, as soon Desmos was out of earshot.

  Kyler heard her loud and clear.

  “Would you really?” he asked quizzically. “I wouldn’t.”

  She looked at him strangely, wondering what he meant by this. Was he just playing with her or actually telling the truth? Or was he referring to Desmos, not her? Before she could think of inquiring, he returned to his workout, hopping onto the pull-up bar. Serenity decided to resume working as well, unable to decipher this conundrum.

  She opened her eyes, awoken by low knocking sounds stemming from somebody outside her door. She sat upright, stretching her arms. It was a wholesome nap, she could not deny. Her energy felt replenished. According to the digital clock in her chamber, it was five minutes past 1:00 AM. Sixto was relatively on time—and so was she. The knocking continued, a bit louder this time. She got to her feet and crossed over to the door.

  “Hey,” she said tiredly, letting Sixto in.

  He was in all black, wearing a hoodie (with the hood on) and sweat pants. After a brief appraisal of his appearance, she would’ve recommended a change of attire; it was too indicative of illicit activity. Anybody that saw him would’ve assumed he was trying to break into somewhere. Essentially, he was. They would have to be undetected the whole night. Hopefully this wasn’t impossible.

  “Did you sleep well?” he asked quietly.

  “It was a nice nap,” she shrugged.

  “Great. So, you ready?”

  “Whenever you are,” she nodded. “Should I change?”

  She was wearing black leggings and an ordinary white blouse.

  “It’s freezing out, you need a jacket,” he said.