RE: Monarch
Chapter 128: Interlude: Bellarex II

“Erdos is the only loose end.” Cairn looked so haggard in the memory that Bellarex barely recognized him. He was slumped over in Ralakos’s sitting room, staring at the fire.

“Seems rather cold, even if you do see him as your enemy.” Ralakos stirred his tea, his gaze never leaving the bedraggled prince.

Cairn put his face in his hand and laughed. The sound was harsh, cruel. “You think I want this? Any of it? And you speak of him as if he is just my enemy. He’s your man, Elder. Sworn to your service. What would you do in my place, then?”

Ralakos cocked his head, deep in thought. “Speak to him. Over a long span of time, perhaps. Until the core conflict that caused him to stray became clear.”

“And even if you managed to take him without her knowing, what would you do with him?” Cairn mocked. “Place him in Guemon’s cells?”

“The thought had crossed my mind.”

“After the stink you raised during my hearing, how much political capital would that lose you?”

A silence filled the room.

“Ephira played all of us. You, the council. Me most of all. She is a master manipulator. And by making Erdos her deadman’s switch, she put him in this position. This is on her. All of it.”

Bell looked between the man who had taken her in, and the human who gave her new purpose, trying desperately to understand. This wasn’t like them. They had never been anything other than good or kind.

Ralakos set his tea aside, looking at it distastefully. “I understand the stakes.” His gaze shifted to Cairn. “I also am perhaps one of few people capable of empathizing with the level of pressure you are under. That is the only reason I am entertaining this at all.”

“This is the only way to ensure Ephira’s schemes die with her. Otherwise, we are simply trading one end for another. One that will come from an enemy we don’t know.”

“And you are certain?” Ralakos asked. “If Ephira succeeds, the enclave will be sundered.”

Cairn sagged a bit, as if somehow, he had been asked this question far too many times. “Yes. It doesn’t matter who we ask for help. How well we prepare. If Ephira has her way… everyone will die.” He chuckled darkly. “Maybe he won’t fight, and you can have your conversation. But if it all goes poorly, my soul will already be damned. Let the guilt and responsibility lay solely on my head.”

/////

Bellarex was lost, her mind warring in a horrible conflict. On one hand, Cairn had freed her from her debt. When her father died, she was no longer beholden to anyone. And though it was hard to count either Cairn or Ralakos among them now, she had made friends. Jorra and Maya had known nothing of the plot, and were the truest of companions. Her father had been scheming with Councilor Ephira against the Enclave, and if Ephira’s plans came to fruition, many people would die.

But Bellarex was so close to earning her father’s respect. His love. And perhaps, one day, making up for what she had taken away from him.

And now that day would never come. Because of Cairn.

“What is your truth?” Infaris asked.

Bellarex wept in the crystal chamber. “I thought he saw something in me. Maybe some of it was pity, at first. But he wouldn’t have taken me into the sanctum with him if it was just pity. It had to be because I was useful. A good team member. I thought he was my friend. But it wasn’t any of that. It was just guilt.”

“Glimmers of a beautiful truth. But you assume too much child.” Infaris’s light shined down, her rays bright, yet comforting. “Bonds between mortals are not static. They shift and reform, like a windstorm among the desert dunes. Just because something begins imperfectly, does not mean it cannot one day be perfect.”

“I don’t understand,” Bellarex said.

“One day you will.” Infaris promised her.

/////

After what felt like an eternity of inner struggle, Bellarex decided. She would simply treat what she had learned as if it had never happened. It was what she did with her mother sometimes, when that reality became too much to bear.

But it was not so easy. Cairn seemed to realize, immediately, that something had changed. He might have pressed her right then and there, if Maya did not struggle so painfully with her trial. He seemed so confident, so self-assured, despite all that he had done.

As much as she wanted to hide from it, to tell herself it was nothing, Infaris had crippled her innate ability to lie to herself. And every time she imagined herself returning to Ralakos’s estate, living side by side with the men who had planned her father’s death, it made her ill. She wished dearly for the days before the trial. She wished dearly to be purged of the so-called truth that Infaris held in such high regard.

And that was why, after the battle and subsequent retreat from the sepulcher, when Bell felt a cold hand grasp the back of her robe before she could enter the portal—Bellarex did not fight. The idea of death did not frighten her anymore. If the weight of The Truth was not bearing down on her, perhaps she would have tried to enter the void-state, and escape from the mage.

Thoth swore as the portal closed, swiping a clawed hand across the empty space in the clearing where it used to be. She took a step back and pushed her white hair back. After a moment of charged silence, she muttered to no one in particular. “Oh yes. You’re dead, Infaris. Whenever I have time and energy to burn, this iteration or the next, you’re very, very dead.”

Bell, who had been sitting still up to this point, stifled a laugh. Thoth spun to face her, blood still dribbling out of her wounded mouth, the healing not yet complete.

“You think this is funny?” Thoth hissed.

Bell shook her head vehemently, feeling very small as Thoth’s black aura washed over her. “I don’t like Infaris either.”

“Oh.” Thoth said, her aura receding. “Fun times in the trial, then?”

Bell smiled bitterly. “I hoped she might tell me why I was born like this. What the point of it all was.”

“Because you’re a clotted red?” The slur hit like a slap. But strangely, the derision sounded more like a mockery of the words themselves. Thoth rolled her eyes. “Gods. Why does every Infernal have an inferiority complex?”

“A clotted red born of violet parents, with only the weakest element to speak of. The definition of inferior.”

“So… let me make sure I understand. You’re saying the weakest of all infernals, the absolute bottom of the barrel, scum of the sub-surface trashwas able to not only stand against me, but an arch-fiend as well?” Thoth’s voice was dangerous.

“You’re the most powerful being I’ve ever met,” Bell said quickly, “It was luck. And only a few minutes.”

Thoth, to Bellarex’s surprise, smiled. “If you knew how many have died at my hand, in much shorter times, you would not speak of a few minutes so lightly. And void? Well, let’s just say the idea of it being the weakest element is nothing more than petty superstition. One of the strongest mages in Uskar has only one element. Void. And he built an empire off that power.”

“Why…” Bell stopped, her mouth dry. “Why are you being kind to me?”

Thoth shook her head. “Some people deserve to suffer before they die. They live easy lives, existing in a cloud of ambivalence, considering themselves above it all. Their greedy souls remain whole, unblemished. It is them I shatter. Others… those who live below the cloud?” Thoth glanced at Bell. “Need no further torment.”

Bellarex hadn’t been able to hear much beyond the first sentence. “You’re going to kill me, then?” Bellarex asked.

“Yes. However much I might like you, you’ve had the misfortune of falling in with a bad crowd, little red. And nothing gets the prince going more than when I take away one of his toys.” Thoth approached Bell, kneeling behind her.

A stark terror went through Bell, startling her out of the malaise. She tried to stand, an invisible force pushing her back down.

“No, don’t struggle,” Thoth whispered, her soothing voice having the opposite effect. “I’ll make it look gruesome, but only after. For you, it will be like a torch doused in water. On one moment, off the next.”

Bell realized, perhaps too late, that she did not want to die. That she had lived her life beholden to others. That the possibility of something far outweighed the totality of nothing. Darkness closed in on the edges of her vision, threatening to snuff it out completely.

“It won’t work,” Bell said into the black, still struggling against the invisible hand. “He doesn’t really care about me. I’m only here because he feels guilty.”

The darkness stopped. It receded, until all she could see was Thoth’s golden eye, studying her with curiosity. “A deathbed betrayal. Disappointing. But always amusing. Go on, little red. Spin your tale.”

And so, Bell did. She told the arch-mage everything she’d been holding back, everything that had been weighing so heavily on her soul. Like any bad storyteller, she went too far back, beginning with her childhood. But the arch-mage did not seem to care.

Thoth was a strangely attentive listener. She asked questions at all the right places, prompting Bell when she faltered. More than once, she asked why Bell thought something, requesting the infernal delve deeper into her own internal logic, then gently challenged her when that logic proved faulty.

All of this, proved far too exhausting when she arrived at the crux of it. Infaris’s vision, and Cairn’s betrayal. She wept bitter tears, despite knowing they would likely be her end.

Which made what happened next even stranger. Death did not come. Rather, the magic released her. Slender arms held her as she cried. A voice, almost unrecognizable as the arch-mage’s, whispered kindness into her ear. A mix of there-there’s, shushes, and reminders that none of this was Bell’s fault. That everything was okay. That she was safe now.

It reminded Bell of her Nanny. Of dreams of her mother. Only the floral scent that haunted those dreams was replaced with iron and sweat.

“Why are you being so kind to me?” Bell repeated, completely at a loss.

“You remind me of someone. Someone quick to take the weight of the world on her shoulders, even though none of this was her fault. Someone happy to die for nothing,” Thoth said. Her face was carved from stone, but Bell could have sworn she saw the mage’s jaw tremble. Before Bell could say anything, Thoth stood and looked away.

“You are weak. But it’s not your magic, or the color of your skin. Your forgiveness is your weakness. The only way to truly break the chains is to kill the one who shackled you. You should have killed your father for what he did.”

Bell froze. The words didn’t make any sense, on the surface. But the more she thought, the more the dark pit in her stomach whispered that it made sense. She had felt better once her father had died. So much pressure, so much responsibility, gone forever.

“I won’t hurt Cairn. Even if he took something from me. He’s been kind to me.”

Thoth’s expression was thoughtful. “Of course. You’ve been in the shit together for months. You’ve bonded. But I’ll make you a promise, little red. The prince will never leave this place alive. I’ve let this go on for long enough. He’s going to die.” She touched Bell’s face. “What I need from you, is a way to twist the knife. To shake the Infernals confidence in him. After all, what kind of man meets his end, betrayed by a bonded ally?”

Many thoughts went through Bell’s head. First of which, that she may have rejected the mage’s offer out of turn. Thoth’s behavior did not match her reputation. On some level, Bell was waiting for the carpet to be pulled, to face the monster within. But the longer she considered that notion, she realized that perhaps this was the monster’s true face. And Thoth might truly let her go.

So, Bell began to weave lies. “If I do what you ask, there will be no home for me. He represents hope to my people. A chance to reunite our families once more. I will be thrown out, if not killed.”

“And there’s a home for you now? In the estate of the man who allowed your father to be slaughtered like a dog?” Thoth asked, in the same, calm, teacher’s voice she had adopted as Bell told her story.

Bell cringed.

Thoth crouched down to Bell’s eye-level. “If you do this thing for me, I will claim you. No more haunted estates. No more empty homes. I will train you to use your power in ways you never could have dreamed. I will teach you to command respect from enemy and ally alike. All those who mocked you will fear you. You will form the bridge between your people and mine. And we will fight the darkness together.”

“Ragnarök?” Bell asked. “You really are fighting to stop it?”

“Oh yes. The difference between me and Cairn is simple. I have the strength to do what is necessary.”

Bell wasn’t sure what to believe. She knew the woman was evil, but she did not seem evil. Just some strange amalgamation of twisted and misguided.

With that strange knowledge clouding her mind, Bellarex decided she would lie. Tell the woman whatever she wanted to hear. Cairn would replace a way.

And if he doesn’t?

Bell trembled as she spoke. “I will do as you ask. But my friends go free. They might be his allies, but they are my friends. I will not join you if you hurt them.”

Thoth inclined her head. “Agreed.”

/////

A small, pixie like Decarabia led Bell to a passage that took her to a broken chamber. It made her tremble to realize Thoth had already known where the others were, and if she had not been captured, they would likely all be dead already.

Despite worry they would smell it on her immediately, the others greeted her with joy, welcoming her back with open arms. It felt so good that Bell struggled with how to tell them what had really happened, even though the information was vital. As she worked out the words, and stressed over the worry of how they would take it, Cairn took her aside.

“I’m glad you're safe,” Cairn said. But the warm words did not meet his eyes.

“Sorry for worrying everyone.” Bell couldn’t meet his gaze.

“You know, the King told something once.” The words seemed strange, off-tempo with the conversation. Bell looked up to replace him with a far away expression on his face. “On the topic of dealing with insurgents.”

“Insurgents?” Bell cocked her head. “You mean, like, rebels?”

Cairn hummed an affirmative. “That’s a good word for it. You may know he’s a bit heavy-handed, my father. Does a lot I disagree with, much of which I hope to change. One of those methods is how he deals with children—more specifically, the children of his enemies.”

Bell felt cold. “What does he do with them?”

“Kills them, mostly.” Cairn grimaced. “It never made sense to me. Still doesn’t. Whenever he would wipe out a village—whatever the justification, treason, late on their taxes, a diplomat who looked at him wrong—he would put every single orphaned child to the sword.” Cairn shook his head at the memory. “It seemed not only cruel to me but wasteful, you know? So many lives. Snuffed out because their parents made a mistake. One day, I got up the courage to ask him. Do you want to know how he justified it?”

Slowly, Bell reached for the hilt of her sword. “Why are you telling me this?”

Cairn watched her, sadly. “I’m sorry, about your father.”

The words shook Bell to her core.

“I was scared, and trapped, and so out of my element it was almost impossible to see right from wrong. But those are all excuses. At the end of the day, I did what I did. And I alone must face the consequences.” His eyes met hers, his gaze electric. “After Infaris told you everything, you didn’t get away from Thoth, did you?”

Bell wanted to explain. But the angry part of her wanted to see what he would do. Would he try to strike first, as he had at the Prime Leyline?

“No,” Bell whispered.

“She got her hooks into you. Offered you something seductive. Something you couldn’t say no to. Then she sent you here to kill me.”

“And if you’re right?” Bell’s whole body tensed as Cairn began to move. His hands went to the strap of his satchel first, sliding it off his body and onto the ground. Then his scabbard landed next to it, along with his broken dagger.

“Then my path has ended. It was going to anyway. I wasn’t ever going to get out of this, Bell. Don’t get me wrong, I had no intention of going quietly. I was going to fight to my last breath. But if you decide to take my life, I won’t stop you. I will not kill a friend for avenging what I took from her.”

“Were we ever really friends?” Bell whispered.

Cairn’s brow furrowed. “Listen to me. No matter what you’ve learned, what I told you at the cavern holds true. I went into this owing you a great debt. But I wasn’t expecting to like you so much. You’re funny, and clever, and a brilliant fighter. I was proud to call you friend.” Cairn looked down. “Even if I have lost the right to do so.”

The dark anger within Bell drained away. Tension left her body. “What do you mean, you were never going to get out of this?”

Cairn leaned against the cave wall, seeming to sense the change in mood. “My days are numbered. I fucked up, at the leyline. When Ozra broke ranks and attacked her anyway, I knew Thoth would never forgive the sleight. But ultimately, I only made things worse. It’s too far gone now. This place…” Cairn looked around, the tranquility of the Sanctum at odds with his words. “… Will be the end of me.”

Bell was shocked. “I thought you’d have a plan. Some scheme to beat her. Something.”

“No. If there’s a way, I haven’t found it yet,” Cairn admitted. “Honestly, I’ve been trying to wrap my head around a way to get Maya and Jorra out of this alive. There are a couple of places we could hide them—Veldani’s, perhaps, or somewhere on the lower strata. But I have a feeling that Thoth would keep looking. Even after I’m dead. A normal enemy doesn’t bother with hostages after the target is dispatched, but Thoth is anything but normal.”

A vision of the Bird Bell had lost so many years ago flashed before her eyes.

“They’re taken care of. Maya and Jorra.”

Cairn leaned forward slowly. “Tell me everything.”

/////

Bellarex focused on her breathing. In and out. In some ways, it was not so different from her days in the arena. Rain poured down in torrents, and she did not bother to shield herself. The ceaseless water pressed down her hair and obscured her vision. Enough that she could barely see the boy, bleeding and broken before her.

It was hard to remember that Cairn was a child. He didn’t carry himself like one. Nor did he share any of the childish impulsiveness common among children his age. Perhaps it was an aspect of his race, but Bell doubted that.

He gasped for air, his breathing a wet rasp.

If you care for him, it’s your responsibility to end his suffering.

She heard him as if he was sitting standing beside her. “This is the only way.”

Cairn hadn’t asked her to reject Thoth’s offer. He’d encouraged her to take it. To observe the woman’s methods for herself and make her own decisions. And if she found them too despicable to stomach, she was to serve as a spy, reporting Thoth’s movements to Ralakos.

It didn’t take her long to decide. No matter what Cairn had done to her father, it had been out of necessity. This wasn’t necessity. This was hate given form.

Bellarex raised her sword. The crowd roared in anger.

A voice screamed out. “He trusted you! You fucking coward. You were our friend. He trusted you!” Bell turned and saw Maya, being dragged away by her mother. “I’ll replace you, Bellarex. You will pay for this. You’ll pay in blood!”

And Bell’s debt grew. She bowed her head. Cairn insisted the others remain in the dark. That if anything was off from their reactions, anything suspect, Thoth would know. He said he would replace a way to clear her name after the fact, with letters given to Maya and Jorra. But Bell knew the truth. They could never forgive her for this.

But that was alright. Bell had always been alone.

Cairn coughed up blood, wheezing, moaning as his organs shut down.

If you care for him, it’s your responsibility to end his suffering.

Bell raised her sword and brought it down hard. The cut was as kind as she could make it. The artery in his throat severed, vertebra in his neck pulverized.

The sword slipped from Bell’s hand.

Cairn shivered once.

Then died.

The crowd roared.

I did it Cairn. I did what you asked.

A rock hit Bell in the temple. She swooned on her feet from the blow, barely feeling the pain. Another struck her in the hip, the thigh.

An errant glow covered the clearing as a shield erected before her, covering her from further assault. Thoth embraced her. The hands that felt so gentle before felt like iron.

“Well done, child.” Thoth whispered, before she positioned herself before the crowd.

”Silence.”

The cries of anger ceased.

“And with this death, you now see the truth of your savior,” Thoth droned on, beyond Bell’s sight. “There is no one left with the demon-flame. No one who will restore your precious dimensional gate. No one but me.” Thoth paced before them. “You are angry now. But that anger will soon shift to something else. Desperation, ambivalence. One day, I will return. And you, along with your parents, and the rest of the infernal throng will join me. Just as this one has.” A hand clasped Bell’s shoulder. “And on that day—despite the many transgressions that have come to pass—I will make you whole again. For now, the barrier is gone. And you may all go home.”

A bitter murmuring ran through the crowd as they dispersed. Thoth made a slow, casual retreat. Bell paused, trying to make sense over the expression on Cairn’s face. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, or a trick of the light. But he was almost smiling.

“Come child.” Thoth called to her. “Your new life awaits.”

Bell followed the arch-mage into the darkness beyond.