KGWrites

Lillian

The Ocean Pearl Hideout, Autumn District, Fallen Kingdom of Aldiron

Elias’ shaking body clutched to her, red flowering stab wounds open across his chest. His eyes looking up at her with a final plea.

“Run!”

“Lillian?”

Lillian sat up suddenly, pulled from the dark haze of her daydream back into reality. Shaking her head to banish the images haunting her, she looked towards the voice that had called her.

Reynard Junice was standing a little way off to the left, in the doorway to the little room they shared. He looked almost as tired as Lillian felt, with dark bags beneath his eyes and a distant, worn expression. Lillian felt a twinge of guilt in her chest. She’d had to keep Junice in the dark about the new arrangement between the rebellion and Lord Captain Crowe and clearly, the losses the rebellion had suffered from it were bearing down on the man.

In truth, the only reason she knew was that Marius had trusted her as a runner should things go wrong at the meeting with Crowe.

But keeping it secret from the other rebels was a struggle Lillian had not been expecting, especially when they left on missions. She knew that some of them would not be returning, sacrifices given in exchange for later victories and safety. She’d managed to keep from warning anyone, but only by walking away before they said their goodbyes.

She couldn’t handle looking at anyone else about to die.

Not after Elias.

Ever since she’d held her friend in her arms, dying in the thick mud, soaked in his blood from the countless wounds she’d stabbed into him, Lillian had felt numb and lost. She’d washed his blood from her skin, but it was still there, immovable. It had soaked so deep into her that Lillian felt her very soul was still covered in it. Every look at her hands saw them coated with red. Every night when she slept, she felt his hand clutching her arm, his shallow breaths getting ever weaker as she held him. And she always woke with his last word to her, his last command.

Run.

Lillian didn’t sleep well anymore.

She took runs of messages whenever she knew of a mission that Crowe was to report back to Draconeus. She didn’t want the faces of those leaving on the mission to join Elias’ in her nightmares. And so, she avoided ever seeing them.

She couldn’t help but wonder how long it would be until her face joined them. Tortured into one of Draconeus’ monsters. Would she be sent to kill like Elias had been? Used like a weapon to torture the minds of her friends?

Would she be sent to kill Junice? Or Marius and Haster? Or would she even be kept to release upon Alyx and James when they came with the Brightblade?

Because that much was certain. A comfort brought to her by Darrin Crowe. Alyx and James were alive, and they were fighting to come back, to save the city. To save her.

Lillian just didn’t believe she’d still be there to save when they did.

“Still with us Little Lady Cobalt?” Again, Junice’s voice wrenched Lillian from the miasma of her thoughts and her head whipped around to face him.

“Ah! Um, yes. Sorry.” She stuttered, scratching the back of her head and not looking at Junice directly.

The former royal guard tilted his head, scowling in concern at Lillian.

“I’m used to dealing with Cobalts lying to me. Particularly now after my time with you. You might be a sneaky little cat, but all three of you don’t exactly know how to keep your thoughts off your face.” He told her earnestly, walking into the room. He grabbed the back of a chair and spun it around so that he could lean on the back as he sat opposite her.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, lowering his head to remain in her eyeline.

Lillian hesitated for a long time, looking from Junice to the door, considering making a run for it. But something about the gentle tone Junice had adopted, free of judgement, made her sigh deeply and run a hand through her hair nervously.

“I… Why are we doing this Junice?” She asked, her voice feeling impossibly quiet and small, even in the near silence of the little room.

“Because you told me you wanted to fight. And to fight you need to practice.” Junice answered her. Lillian scowled at him.

“I don’t mean the training Junice.”

He reached out and gently laid his hand on her shoulder. He gave her a sad smile, tilting his head slightly.

“I know.” He told her.

He didn’t need to say anymore than that, and for a while the silence hung between them, simply resting with the weight of a thousand unsaid words. But while Junice didn’t need to say them, Lillian did.

“Violet tried to help us. Now she’s probably dead. Or worse. Haster nearly died in the arena. I nearly died when the Accursed attacked us in Winter. I killed Elias.” Lillian began to rant, speaking quicker than Junice could respond.

“I know what you’ll say. It wasn’t Elias anymore. Draconeus had turned him into one of his Accursed. But he still told me to run. He saved me. That’s not what the Accursed do. Elias was still there. And I killed him.”

Junice lowered his head, clearly not wishing to labour the point when Lillian certainly had a strong case backing up her words. Lillian threw her hands towards the doorway.

“Now it feels like every day we send people out and they die! We’re no closer to winning now than when we started the rebellion! We’ll all be with them sooner or later. So, what’s the point?” Lillian demanded, breathing heavily. She hadn’t realised her voice had risen to the edge of shouting, nor had she noticed when she’d stood up and gotten in Junice’s face, demanding answers from him. Embarrassed and ashamed, she slowly sunk back down onto her bunk.

Junice didn’t answer. He didn’t even move. For the longest time, not a sound came from him and Lillian worried that she’d angered him beyond the point of words.

“The point.” He began quietly, his voice low and steady. “Is that we are still alive.”

Lillian’s mouth dropped open and she took a deep breath, ready to ask how that could be the point. How delaying the inevitable end coming for them was going to help. But one look from Junice caused her to stutter and stop speaking.

“We are still alive. And so are many others, because of what we’ve done. Yes, we are losing people, and people are in pain and making sacrifices. And you are very young to have to bear that burden and that pain. If I could protect you from it, I would. But I can’t and I am sorry.” Junice explained. Lillian felt the pain in his voice, a vulnerability that let her past his armour, allowing her to see that he understood exactly what she felt. Because he felt it too.

“It doesn’t make it any easier. But those who have died, died fighting. They died to protect the others that could not fight for themselves. And those people are still alive because of those that chose to fight.”

Lillian hunched her shoulders. “It doesn’t matter though! We’re not winning anything with all this fighting.” She objected.

“What’s winning for us in your mind Little Cobalt?” Junice asked her. “Taking back the city? Killing Trident, Hills, Spyder, Draconeus?”

He shook his head before she could answer. “Surviving is winning Lillian. Lasting long enough to see the sun rise again tomorrow. And Village willing, the day after that. Until the Princess, and your family, come back with that sword, and kill that Demon.”

Lillian looked at him for a while. She couldn’t see how waiting like bait in a trap was helping to win anything. But surviving? She’d done that before. Maybe Junice was right. Maybe for her, this wasn’t a war. Maybe she wasn’t a soldier. But another survivor.

Maybe this was just one bigger, harsher Winter District.

And the Cobalts always beat the Winter District.

She held Junice’s gaze for a long while. He sighed.

“Maybe fighting this, maybe it is pointless. Maybe we will die. But if I do die, then I want to die on my feet. I want to die fighting. Because then, I didn’t lose. Because I didn’t break to them.”

Junice stood, pushing the chair back against the wall where he’d taken it from. Then he turned to face her again with a smile.

“But until that happens, we keep standing. If we can still stand then we can still put one foot in front of the other, keep on moving. And keep on fighting. Until whatever end The Village has chosen for us comes to greet us. It might not be winning, but it is living. And that’s all we can do.”

He offered her his hand. Lillian blinked and sniffled, wiping her nose on the back of her hand. When had she started crying? Then she reached up and took his hand, letting her lift her from the bunk.

“Well,” Junice conceded with a shrug as he turned towards the doorway. “Maybe it’s not all we can do.”

He crossed to the door and opened it, waving his arm for her to follow. Hurrying forwards confused, Lillian fell into step beside Junice.

Emerging through the bathhouse, Junice led her in long confident strides through the resistance base. He crossed to the far side, to the collapsed side chamber that led through into the wine cellar of the inn next door, the space Marius and Haster often used as their room for planning the rebels’ next move.

Neither commander was there right now though, Haster was still recovering from his torture at the enemy’s hands and Marius was commanding a strike at Draconeus’ forces on a weak flank that Crowe had advised them of.

Which left only a few of their lieutenants, men and women that had stepped into vital command and co-ordination roles where needed. Junice was usually found amongst them, when he wasn’t with Lillian.

Right now, though, Junice ignored them, instead heading between the wine racks to a small space that he had set up weeks beforehand when he’d agreed to train Lillian. Casks were laid on their sides to form a rough circle. Sawdust was spread on the floor, bearing scuffs and small piles from the previous training sessions they had engaged in.

Lillian moved dutifully to the far side of the space, where a suit of makeshift padded armour, made from straw stuffed pillowcases, awaited her. However, Junice spoke suddenly as she lifted it to place it over her head.

“Leave it.” He commanded. She furrowed her brow, confused. Junice had been insistent on her wearing it when he’d agreed to train her. He hadn’t wanted her to get injured in any way.

“You don’t wear it out there. So, you wouldn’t be wearing it if you got into a real fight. And today Little Lady Cobalt…” There was a rasping his as Junice drew his sword from its scabbard and slid between the casks into the ring.

“You’ll be in a real fight.” He concluded, flashing her a cocky grin.

A nervous energy slipped across Lillian, lighting her muscles afire as excitement built in her chest. Junice had told her at the beginning of her training that she’d only train with real weapons when he thought she was ready. And so far, he never had.

She laid down the armour and stepped into the arena, her hand closing around the hilt of her dagger and drawing it from its scabbard. It felt heavier than before as she ran her fingers around it. She eyed Junice carefully, her gaze flicking from him to his sword. It felt like her little dagger was a full arm’s length shorter than the blade. She licked her lips nervously.

“Rules are simple.” Junice explained, flourishing his sword with a flick of his wrist and dropping into a low combat stance. “Win.”

Lillian nodded and reached back with her free hand, grabbing the loose cork from one of the casks and tossing it up into the air. It spun gracefully between them and both of them watched it arc high before beginning to fall.

Lillian turned her head from it, holding her breath as she met Junice’s eyes.

Three seconds.

Two.

One.

The dull thud of the cork hitting the ground had barely even reached Lillian’s ears before she darted forwards at Junice, swiping out with her dagger.

Junice quickly moved to parry the blow with his sword in a low arc. But Lillian was quicker.

One of Junice’s early lessons had been that since Lillian was small and fighting with a dagger, outmanoeuvring her opponent with feints and dodges would be her best chance at victory.

And so, she twisted at the last second, bringing her dagger upwards in a slash.

Junice’s parry went wide, and he had to throw his head back to avoid the attack. But clearly, he’d been expecting Lillian to make the switch, as he seemed unbothered by the strike.

Reacting fast, he reached out with his left arm and shoved Lillian with the severed stump of his left hand.

Too late, Lillian realised she had overstretched herself with the attack. She’d been too eager to fight and had exposed herself to a counterattack.

Junice’s shove caught her outstretched shoulder, and she tumbled over, bouncing hard off the cask wall. She skidded in the sawdust, barely managing to keep her feet beneath her.

Knowing a follow up attack would be coming, Lillian rolled along the casks, the air whooshing behind her as Junice attempted to place his sword across her in a victorious move. She shifted until she’d given herself the full distance of the arena and dropped low, watching Junice warily.

She had to close the gap, that was clear. Junice had told her that if an enemy held a long weapon than you, then the safest place to fight them was up close, where the length became a problem for them, rather than for you.

With Junice’s longsword, he could keep her at a distance easily. Make it so that she couldn’t attack him, but he could reach her. Then it would only be a matter of landing the blow he needed.

But charging straight at him was equally stupid. He’d be able to adjust his guard to fend her off and counterattack. She needed to get in close and keep his sword in exactly the wrong place for her.

So, she did exactly what he’d told her not to do.

She charged straight at him.

Junice adjusted his guard, pointing his sword forwards and preparing a quick cut that would stop Lillian in her tracks. Lillian smiled.

And at the last second, as Junice began to swing his sword, she pushed off with her left foot into a sidestep that brought her around the blade and towards Junice’s exposed side.

For a moment, Junice seemed shocked and Lillian’s heart lifted in surprised elation.

Then there was the resounding clash of steel on steel as Junice parried her blow away.

It didn’t matter though. Because now she was in close. Where she had the advantage.

Junice though, was no easy prey for Lillian.

For minute after gruelling minute, they exchanged clanging, clashing blows. Every time Lillian closed the gap and cut, Junice parried. Every time he counterattacked, she dodged. It was an intricate, exhausting dance.

After a while with no success, even though she knew she was doing everything right, as he’d taught her, Lillian felt frustration beginning to bubble over into anger at Junice. This was supposed to be her big test, and she was failing. She couldn’t beat him. She couldn’t even get a scratch on him. Every tactic and move he had taught her wasn’t working, it was just wearing her out.

How do I protect people? How do I even begin to help the rebellion if I can’t even beat a one-handed cripple?

And then, Lillian felt clarity wash over her. That was it!

She recalled another lesson, one from long before her training with Junice. A lesson she had been in with James Cobalt, when he’d taught her about haggling in the Winter District.

If you only play the game by their rules, then they hold all the cards. They’ll play your every move until they get you where they want you. The trick is to play with rules they don’t know. Find a weakness and use it. Even if it feels unfair. I’d rather win a trade unfairly than lose out and starve.

It may not be haggling in a marketplace, but James’ words rang as true here as they had then. Junice was forcing Lillian into patterns and moves that he had taught her. That he knew and that he likely knew how best to counter. It was only her own speed and agility that had kept her from losing as he used her own tactics against her. She needed to change up the game, exploit a weakness.

And she knew exactly which one.

Darting forwards once more, Lillian ducked beneath a swing from Junice and struck out with her dagger. She was aiming for the stump of Junice’s severed hand, a weak point he couldn’t adjust to.

Responding quickly, Junice swept his sword down, looking to parry her dagger and knock it from her hand.

But Lillian suddenly pulled the dagger back in a feint and instead kicked the flat side of Junice’s sword, sending it careening sideways and throwing him off balance. His right leg darted outwards to steady him.

Which was exactly what Lillian had hoped for.

Kicking again, Lillian slammed her boot into the side of his leg, where the wound from the arrows he’d been shot with during the siege was. Though it was now healed, it still caused aches and pains on occasion, and judging by the groan her blow elicited, Lillian had just caused some more.

Stumbling forwards, off balance from the kick and half-dazed by pain, Junce dropped to his knee.

He swept his sword in a long flat arc, designed to force Lillian to move out of the way or be cut in half. So, she did exactly that.

But not backwards, like she was expected to.

Instead, Lillian sprang forwards, diving beneath the sword and rising behind Junice. With one hand she roughly grabbed Junice’s short hair and pulled it back, pulling his head back and exposing his throat. With her other she brought the dagger downwards.

And stopped. Her blade hovering a hair’s width off the skin of his throat.

“I win.” She panted.

Junice was also panting heavily, his dark skin beading with sweat. But slowly a smile spread over his face and he ran his tongue across his teeth, dropping his sword to the floor and raising his now empty hand in surrender.

“So it would seem. I yield.” He conceded with a chuckle.

Lillian’s heart leapt for joy and her chest swelled with pride as she took the dagger from Junice’s throat and sheathed it. Then she offered Junice a hand, lifting him back to his feet.

“Sorry about the leg.” She apologised, somewhat nervously. Junice laughed and shook his head.

“Don’t be. I told you to win. You won.” He winced as he bent down to lift his sword. “And you definitely won like a damned Cobalt.”

Lillian swelled with pride even more. She reached down to run her fingers across Alyx’s silvered feather ring, hanging from a necklace she wore.

“You fought well. Better than most. And yes, I might be crippled and missing a hand. But you did still just beat a member of the royal guard of Aldiron. Not many can boast that. Especially not twelve-year-old girls.”

He laid his hand on Lillian’s shoulder.

“We’ve a long way to go yet Little Lady Cobalt. But when the fight comes, you’re ready. And you’ll make us all very proud.”

Lillian beamed at him. The little band of silver seemed warm to the touch in her hand, as if responding to her pride. A little piece of her family, even so far apart.

The pain and fear hadn’t left her. Nor would they. The memory of Elias still haunted her, but no longer did she feel dominated and owned by it.

Because he saved my life, now I’ll make it count. I’ll save as many more as I can.

Lillian Cobalt, the Last Cat of Aldiron, stood tall, proud and resolute. Ready for whatever came next. And as long as she was alive, she’d keep on going, keep moving and fighting.

Because she was a Cobalt. And that was what her family did.