I haven’t eaten, I’ve barely drunk, and I’m wearing the same burnt clothes from this morning.
I don’t complain. I don’t even speak.
I do exactly as I’m told.
I follow Mae’s every move. When she furls her hand, I furl mine. When she stands stiff and straight and conducts her magic with elegance and poise, I try to do the same.
I shut my mind off to my anger. I push it out. It makes my magic weaker and my emotions duller, but I still have the power and grit I need to continue.
Though I draw an audience to begin with, as the hours tick on by, most of the soldiers and guards wander off.
People still watch me, though, right until Mae tells me it’s over for the day.
As I walk out of the square, my body heavy with fatigue, I catch a glimpse of two men in white and black uniforms.
Torches have been lit all around the square, and I see the two of them standing off in the far distance.
Watching me.
Just the sight of them sends a flight of nerves dancing through my stomach. Nerves that somehow manage to punch through my fatigue.
The men don’t do anything, though, and soon enough I’m led back to my room.
I walk in to find a basin of water, food, and clean clothes. Even the sooty blankets on my bed have been changed.
Silently I wash, dress, and eat.
Then… I sit there and stare at the wall.
I’ve never been in a position like this. And just maybe if I hadn’t gone after Castor yesterday, then I wouldn’t be in this position. If I’d just trusted he could free himself from Yang’s soldiers if he wanted to, and I’d stayed at home, then I’d still be at home.
Instead, I have nothing but a cold stone wall to stare at.
Eventually, I crumple my hand over my face.
I’m the Savior, and I know the responsibility that falls on my shoulders. I have to spend all the time I can training. But here I am, stuck.
.…
Training.
I crumple my lips together as I realize that.
Today I learned to fight mirage sorcerers, and though I hated every minute of Mae’s lesson this afternoon, I can’t deny I learned a few things. Even though she’s stuffy, painfully proper, and powerfully arrogant, she’s also pretty powerful.
My whole life I’ve trained only with Castor. While he possesses enough knowledge to run an army, there’s something to be said for finding out what other people know.
Still, I might be learning a few things, but I’m trapped, with Garl’s threats to haunt me at night. I have no idea where Castor is, or even if he’s fine.
I’m just… alone.
I flop down on my bed.
Then, without realizing it, I bring up my left hand. I start playing with the bandage, plucking it up and rubbing the fabric in my fingers.
When I realize what I’m doing, I stare down at it.
Safely tucked away in my room, I remove the bandage and stare at my completely undamaged hand.
How on earth did blood appear over it without any injury? I didn’t feel it. It just….
I take an unsteady breath.
As the Savior, I know I can do some unusual stuff. After all, though I’m not meant to be able to, I can still do magic in this room. But… bleeding without an injury? That’s not an ability – that’s horrifying.
I grind my teeth together as I worry about what it could mean.
If Castor were by my side, I’d ask him, and he would know; he knows everything. If he doesn’t know, he finds out.
I’m on my own, though. So, with no one to ask, I eventually tuck my hand back under the bandage and lie down.
Though I am indisputably tired, it takes hours to fall asleep. I stare at the wall, unwilling to close my eyes and submit to the dark.
But the dark, and sleep, claim me. For they can’t be held back forever.