Death

by Rosie Scott

  Cerin smiled and shrugged. “Not really. I just figured I'd take you as high up as we can go in one of these trees so we can talk alone. I can already tell Celendar is a city you'll miss with a vengeance once we leave.”

  He was right. Celendar's beauty was unparalleled and unique. “I'll tell you what,” I started. “Let's go shopping. I have a few gifts I want to buy before I have to take over surgeries for Uriel tonight. Then we'll talk.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Cerin agreed.

  As Cerin and I walked through Celendar, I marveled over just how differently one could view a city during peace versus in war. In battle the day before, Celendar's architecture had been a confusing challenge of entries to differing levels and routes that appeared to connect but did not. Many details had gone unnoticed in the chaos of war. Now that we were simply walking through it like two tourists, I noticed much more about the city's set-up.

  Celendar had districts that were clearly defined by multiple parameters. Wooden plaques carved with maps and directions were posted at regular intervals. Shops and services heavily populated the lowest five levels, easily available to non-Celdic travelers who weren't familiar with the quickest routes through the highest tiers of the city. Homes were much farther up in the trees, and the higher their level, the more elaborate they were. Celendar had both apartments and homes, only differentiated by how each tree was carved. Some wealthy homes appeared to take up multiple levels of the same tree while they often carved many apartments to a story to conserve space.

  One thing about the Celdic elves that I'd never realized before was how serious they were about their various forms of entertainment. I had visited every land of Arrayis except the beastlands, and I'd witnessed puppet shows for children, live music, magic shows, and the rare play in Sera during festival season. In Celendar, they had all that and more. Plays were particularly popular; they posted signs on trees and railings advertising the names of shows and the actors starring in them as if they were celebrities. Everywhere else in the world, leaders of settlements and military units were the only celebrities. In a city that preferred peace, they glorified their entertainers.

  Celendar had an abnormal number of banks in its mid-levels. Most settlements I'd visited had at least one, but I spotted a handful of them even though we didn't walk through more than a few avenues of the city. The banks competed with one another through outdoor advertisements, boasting better conversion rate fees than their competitors for depositing copper coins in exchange for silver or gold. Many offered loans with payment plans, storage for valuables with a monthly fee, and one even boasted it would pay customers two copper coins per month just to keep their money in an account as long as they had a minimum deposit of one thousand gold. Such an idea intrigued me. There had been a bank in Sera, but I'd never had enough money or reason to pay much attention to it. I could imagine using one in the future if only to keep some of my fortune safe from thieves.

  Dispersed between these banks were taverns with large outdoor balconies for musical acts and businesses that called themselves gambling houses. Gambling was a common enough past-time anywhere, but this was the first time I'd seen a business dedicated to it. I had to imagine the proximity between the banks and gambling houses was intentional and often taken advantage of.

  Cerin and I visited a hobby shop that had supplies for the arts of both the visual and audible varieties. The Celdic woman behind the counter recognized me by my appearance right away, but our friendliness warmed her up to us quickly, particularly when she found out we were there to spend gold. I bought a beautiful harp for Holter made of pearl-white wood. I'd heard of the musical instrument before, but only by name; they were quite rare. I doubted Holter knew how to play one since they were most popular in Celendar, but he'd conquered every instrument he owned thus far. I picked out a set of watercolors for Azazel, but before I could pay for it, Cerin insisted. I assumed the gold I was spending simply concerned him. After all, most gold I'd ever had was spent on gifts for friends, and I had many of them.

  Next, we traveled to a craft store that sold handmade products out of wood, natural fibers, and animal parts. I picked up a bundle of rolling papers for Calder, and when the merchant suggested an intricate carved white pipe, I bought that for him as well. Ferris was banned in Chairel, but the Celds smoked a variety of herbs that only grew in their forest. I purchased a few varieties of these herbs for Calder; I'd only ever seen him smoke ferris, but I assumed he'd smoke anything at least once just to try it. I also bought a large bundle of high-quality tanned leather for Maggie. If she didn't need the material to replace the straps of her prosthetic leg when they wore out, she would surely find another use for it. The store had a few weapons carved from pure animal bone, reminiscent of many of the Icilic weapons during our battles with Glacia. Among them were beautiful honed throwing stars, and I procured the entire set for Nyx.

  Near the weapons sat a case of some of the most unique jewelry I'd ever seen; because metal could only be acquired via trade in Celendar, they created some of their jewelry out of other materials. I purchased a ring for Cyrus that was made out of white wood but had a band of glass in the center. Inside of the hollow glass was a drop of water from a natural spring considered sacred according to the Celdic merchant. If a water mage wore the ring, the water within would react to any of the element's transformation spells cast from the same hand. If Cyrus turned water to steam, the center of the ring would visibly fog. Turn water to ice, and crystals would align the glass. It was a fantastic gift idea for a water mage, and I was so intrigued by the ring that I would have bought one for myself if I wasn't already spending so much gold.

  Our last stop was to a store that specialized in alcohol where I bought a half dozen bottles of unique Celdic wines for Uriel. I'd seen the Sentinel drink ale plenty of times, but in his apartment back in Mistral he'd had a well-tended stock of wine. The dwarves didn't care for wine so Uriel had gone years without it. I hoped I was correct in assuming he had a soft spot for it.

  Cerin and I piled all the smaller gifts into the large canvas bag we'd received for Holter's instrument and Azazel's art set, and we carried it to the nearest lift. The operator asked us if we were meeting with Vipin, presumably to figure out which floor we were headed to. I told her to take us to the highest level that would allow us to still see the city from beneath the canopies, and we were on our way.

  Within the hour, Cerin and I stood against a sturdy railing dozens of floors up, where the bottom-most leaves of the canopy were in reach of the tallest Celds who strolled along the walkways. Below us, bridges crossed over one another so many times that finding the forest floor in some areas was like trying to look through tightly layered threads of fabric. But the architects of this magnificent city had understood its splendor, so great sections of the walkways had a view of the forest floor. There were balconies that stretched out many floors down, and the civilians walking through the city even lower than that were barely more than dots of brown and blonde hair over a green canvas.

  Cerin rustled the bag full of gifts at his side with a wiggling finger and said, “I feel like I should scold you for this.”

  I chuckled. “Please do. This is why I'm taking over Chairel, just so you know. It has nothing to do with revenge or political change. I need the gold to support my habit.”

  Cerin laughed softly. “Don't forget, you once said we'd be giving all the Renegades their own specialized armor after the war, and you'll be giving them all jobs and positions for life. You don't have to spoil them like this. They're not here for that.”

  “They're not here to be spoiled because none of them ever have been,” I replied, frowning with retrospection. “None of us were ever well-off, Cerin. Even me, and I was royalty, but I had nothing compared to Terran and Sirius. You started in poverty and ended up homeless. Azazel came from slavery. Nyx is bad at spending all her gold, but at least she used to work hard for what little she had. Maggie barely made more gold than she needed for rent working unde
r Tilda. Holter was working for gold since his early teens. None of them have ever been spoiled, and that's why I want to do it.” I hesitated and glanced down at our canvas bag. “And now I feel awful, because the only person I bought nothing for is you.”

  “I need nothing.” Cerin pulled me close and kissed my shoulder through the armor. “Besides, you already made me this.” He held his left hand out so that the Seran Renegade ring I'd commissioned for him in Olympia shone in a single ray of sunlight. Set up much like Azazel's ring, it had Cerin's first name on the left side, his surname on the right, and a carved center. A shortened scythe arced just above a screaming skull, mimicking the design of the ring he'd bought for me many years ago. An oblong life shield surrounded both, completing the trio of Cerin's offensive and defensive skills.

  Silence fell over us for a few moments. A light breeze moved through the forest, wisps of cool air slipping through barely rustling giant leaves. When it dissipated, I could hear just the softest muted notes of a stringed instrument far below us.

  “I can see why Silas had such a fondness for Celendar,” I murmured, gazing up into the canopies at the vibrant greenery. Some animals that had fled from the battle the previous day had returned now that all was calm. A small rodent-like creature I didn't recognize dropped to the railing some distance away, eating little nuts that a Celd offered to it. As the animal ate, the man stroked its fur. Then, he hovered his hand over the creature as if checking it for injuries with life magic.

  “There's an otherworldly atmosphere here that would be hard to replicate,” Cerin murmured. I could tell that my mentioning of Silas had quieted him. He knew that meant I was ready to talk about the execution.

  “Thank you,” I said vaguely, my eyes following a tiny lavender bird as it hopped from branch to branch above and knocked on the wood with its long beak. “I've seen so many terrible things in this war, but still, I try to avoid looking at the mutilated bodies of people I know.”

  “Oh, gods, Kai,” Cerin rambled, squeezing me close to him and shaking his head. “I know. Don't even thank me for that. I understand.”

  “I felt like a coward sitting to the side while you found his body,” I admitted, gritting my teeth with distaste.

  “Why? You didn't even know where it was. I did. I'm the one who moved it to begin with.” Cerin inhaled sharply. “Out of all the things in the world that you are, you have never been a coward. If I hadn't offered to do that today, you would have. It would have just been painful for you. That's why I did it.”

  I exhaled laboriously. I thought of a million things to say before I said nothing at all.

  “You blame yourself,” Cerin murmured. His hand moved over mine on the railing, rubbing and warming it. “Tell me why.”

  “I underestimated the Celds,” I said low. “I knew them as nothing but peaceful. We saw so many of them die of broken hearts in the Battle of the Southern Plains. I wanted to avoid that happening again. I figured they would be easily reasoned with. I figured using Silas as a mediator would show them that I'd had mercy on one of their own and had already shown interest in compromise. I had absolutely no idea that sending Silas into the city would kill him. If I'd had any suspicion of that, I wouldn't have done it.”

  “Of course not,” Cerin agreed, “but that doesn't make his death your fault.”

  “Silas was in shackles when he died, Cerin. They slaughtered him like an animal. As our prisoner.”

  “Because he was a prisoner, Kai. Silas fought against us in that battle. We couldn't just let him go. He was a prisoner of war. That's how war works. Just because the people involved are people you care for, that doesn't change how these things are supposed to happen.” After I said nothing, Cerin added, “Besides, don't forget that Silas was executed during an exchange where you offered his release back to the home he'd always wanted to go back to. If it were up to you, he'd now be free and happy here.”

  “I know you said that to make me feel better, but the circumstances only make it all the more depressing.”

  Cerin sighed with regret. “I know. Silas was a morose prisoner, but at least we treated him humanely.”

  “No words can fix the heartache of war, but that doesn't stop us from trying, does it?”

  “I'm sorry I'm not helping,” Cerin offered.

  I leaned my head against his upper arm, nuzzling my nose into the black leather armor. It smelled of sweat and moist earth. “You misunderstand me. Talking about loss helps to share its burden, but nothing can ever truly fix it. As always, Cerin, you are supportive and caring. You are helping. There aren't enough words in the world to aptly describe how much I love you.”

  The arm Cerin had around my waist pulled me closer. “You don't need words, Kai. It's plenty obvious. As much as I love you during your godly rages, I feel like the luckiest man alive to see this vulnerable side of you. It bloats my ego to know one of the most powerful people in the world confides in me.”

  “Thank the gods that you don't only see me during my rages,” I commented, “or else you'd be against me and on the wrong side of history.”

  Cerin huffed. “That's what saddens me most about Silas, Kai. I keep putting myself in his shoes. Thinking about how depressing it would be to have your affections and then be against you.” When I said nothing, he continued, “How are you doing? With mourning?”

  “Confused and lost,” I admitted. “I go back and forth between mourning and feeling like I already have when he left us long ago. Sometimes I feel relieved. That sounds terrible to say, but with everything that happened and the way the world's changing, Silas would never be happy. I was trying my best to make things up to him, but it was futile. Silas wanted nothing from me. You're right, Cerin. It is sad. I was once as close to Silas as I am with my friends now. I grew into a woman with him by my side. We once had inside jokes and habits and things we would do regularly together. Now Silas is dead, and I'm conflicted because I don't feel like I'm mourning someone I know.”

  Cerin nodded quietly beside me.

  “When we left Sera, I was twenty-two and clueless as to how powerful I would become. When we return to it, I wonder if I will even recognize it. I am much stronger in mind and power than I was then, and most of what is familiar to me about Sera is gone. Bjorn, Silas, and Theron are dead. Terran is lost to me. I left Sirius as a shunned and angered daughter, and I will only return as his violent undoing. It makes me fear that the city itself is a curse to me, Cerin. The only ties I have to it now are my surname and you and Nyx. I'm not superstitious in the slightest, but I wonder if I'll lose what little I have left that connects me to it. I don't want to win this war and lose you or Nyx along the way. I also don't want to lose my life and leave you to suffer the consequences of my rebellion.”

  “You won't lose me or Nyx,” Cerin promised. “And we all protect you with our lives.”

  “Don't promise me that,” I argued. “The last time someone promised I wouldn't lose them, it was Jakan and Anto.”

  Cerin swallowed hard. “Okay, so I can't promise that. But nothing has changed, Kai. We still take care of each other to the best of our abilities, and you aren't superstitious for a reason, right? Superstition builds irrational fear. Don't give into such thoughts because they solve nothing.” He hesitated. “Sera will be unrecognizable when we reach it. Hopefully, it will be even more unrecognizable after we take it. After all, that is one of our goals in this war.”

  “Cerin...” I trailed off, rubbing his hand with my thumb. I had something I needed to tell him, but I'd waited so long to say it because even thinking it was painful. “If I lose my life in this war before we win it, I want you to continue fighting under Azazel's direction. Keep fighting until you take Chairel.” I somewhat expected Cerin to stop me and insist such words were unnecessary, but he respected my need to tell him my wishes. “If you cannot take Chairel, seek shelter with Cyrus. I have already spoken to him about this. You and the others will be welcome in Fremont.”

  Cerin was so disturbed by the
idea I would die that he appeared nauseated for a moment. “Okay, Kai.” He met my gaze. “If I die, take Chairel and make Sirius bleed.” He squeezed my hand until it felt like the tiny bones within it would break. “And know that had I lived, I would have loved you until my last breath and followed you to the ends of Arrayis.”

  I pulled him into a desperate embrace. “You already have.”

  Cerin buried his face in my hair and replied, “And when we make it through this, I will do so all over again.”

  Thirteen

  Just outside of the double doors of the highest floor of Celendar's royal tree, the city was experiencing rainfall for the first time in centuries. Maggie's insistence on learning everything she could about the architecture here had given her knowledge that she'd shared with me during our dinners together every evening. Apparently, Celendar's canopies were so thick that if it stormed in the skies above, the Celds could barely tell on the ground level. The skies weren't visible from the city, and any rain that fell had dozens of layers of thick greenery to work through. That was why the Celds had thousands of carved downspouts throughout the forest with which to collect natural water from the highest reaches of the trees and deliver it to their reservoirs.

  The meteors I'd summoned during the battle the week before had left scorched openings in the canopies of the southernmost city, and now, sheets of rain filtered through the breaks, eager to take the fast track to the forest floor. Many Celds were out and about to witness the rare event.

  Cyrus held the door open for me as I walked through to the outside, and then he let it go. It slowly closed behind us with a creak. He immediately went to the railing of the walkway, leaning on it as he stretched a hand out to where rains fell in a circular area beneath the open sky. Water splatted over his golden skin in multiple places, leaving it glistening metallic.

  Cyrus smiled back at me. “They say rain in Celendar is a rare event, Kai.” Opening his fingers, he directed clear magic toward the rainfall. In seconds, the water falling past his hand crystallized into snow. The flurries floated slowly to the levels below us, surrounded by quicker rain droplets. “I suppose snow is rarer. We have made history twice this day.”