Chapter 19: Shall We Celebrate?

DROSK
Leprechaun, leprechaun, you are a damn mystery I want to solve. If my suspicions are correct, I could understand Vulcan’s obsession with hunting her. And I will finish what he could not. That red hair—I will hang it beside my chair as a trophy.

What my eyes see is almost impossible. I suspected she could resist letting me into her mind, but seeing that she dragged Zareth into her game and is destroying him from within... I don’t know if I feel admiration or an even stronger urge to kill her.

Everyone notices. I see the fearful glances, the expressions of disbelief. The human scum who survives where she should fall, the human who has managed to tip the scales against someone from the Fire Court. My people murmur among themselves, mixing awe with suspicion. Respect? No, they can’t be feeling respect for her. But fear—yes, that I recognize.

My brother has always been our father’s disappointment, but this will dig his grave. It will fall on me to cover the damages of his recklessness. Compassion is for the weak, and she is the very definition of it. Letting Zareth live, giving him victory when she clearly had it in her grasp. Fool. She doesn’t understand what it means to play this game.

My people celebrate, raising their cups and shouting with joy. I only watch, waiting for my next move. When she believes we are gone, when she thinks I have forgotten her, I will bring her to my court. And she will be my slave—I am sure of it.

The cheers are interrupted when Zareth returns to my side. His skin is marked with bruises, his clothes torn, his face hardened. That runt hurt him. Someone her size, a mere insect, managed to wound a warrior of the Fire Court. Or... did he allow it? I wouldn’t know for sure, but if that’s the case, he better have an explanation!

—We won! —he says with a smug grin that irritates me.

I glare at him, unable to hide my disgust.

—You were defeated, and they showed you mercy —I spit with disdain—. That is not winning, Zareth. You should have killed her when you had the chance, but you wanted to get inside her mind.

I see how his jaw tightens, how his fists clench. He doesn’t need to answer for me to know he made a mistake. But I want to hear him say it.

—What did you see in there? Tell me, Zareth —I demand, my eyes fixed on him.

He hesitates for a moment before whispering:

—Chaos. Pain. Monsters.

His smirk is gone. Whatever he saw affected him. He doesn’t say it, but I see it in his gaze, in the way his posture stiffens.

—What else happened in there? —I press, crossing my arms.

Zareth takes a deep breath, as if struggling to find the words.

—She had control. And now she knows it. And that gives her even more power. —He says, thoughtful, before walking toward our tent.

I remain still, watching him disappear into the shadows.

Who are you, really, Sienna-without-a-last-name, from the human scum?

I ask myself questions with no answers. And that infuriates me. Why the hell do I think about her? Why do I question her?

With a frustrated huff, I turn on my heels and continue on my way. I put on my best poker face.

It’s time to celebrate.

SIENNA

The cheers from the coliseum tell me I have created a chaos I enjoy.

—Don't ever do that again —says Astrid beside me, her voice carrying a tone that stings. I've disappointed her, I know.

—As, don't be mad. We won, kid. Let's celebrate at the fair, okay? We just need to shower and patch ourselves up —I say, hoping she'll let go of her anger.

—You're reckless. You almost died, Sisi. When you do things like that, you need to understand it's not just your life, it's both of us —her eyes glisten with unshed tears. I step closer and hug her.

—I love you, As —I whisper, and she holds me even tighter.

—Let's get healed. It seems the Water Court has sent their best healers as a sign of gratitude for the respect you showed their warrior —says Bastian beside us.

—What will they do with them? The bodies? —I ask.

—They return to the earth. We are elements, and we go back to where we came from —Bastian replies.

Astrid and I nod. We walk toward our tents, watching the commotion among the courts. Two warriors have just died, yet they're celebrating, drinking, laughing. But they're watching us.

As soon as I start moving, the adrenaline fades from my system, and suddenly, even breathing hurts. Shit, I don’t think I’ll be able to stand for a month.

When I begin to limp, a hand steadies my waist. I look up—it’s Captain Aldrion.

—Brave or very stupid, Miss Sienna? —he asks.

—I think a little of both —I reply with a smile, which makes him smile in return.

He lifts me bridal-style, sending a wave of pain through my ribs. I groan.

—Forgive me. I'll carry you carefully.

—Daughters of chaos —he murmurs. —You have brought disturbance and change, and maybe that is exactly what we needed.

I watch him as he carries me, and for the first time in a long while, I feel strangely at ease. It’s refreshing, different. He doesn’t make me feel like a weapon, but like someone who can still be protected.

When we reach the tent, I notice that the healers are nothing like the grumpy ones from the Earth Court. Their deep blue robes flow with each movement, and their golden lion masks reflect the dim torchlight.

Aldrion sets me down with a gentleness that disarms me, as if he fears I might break in his hands. But what he doesn’t know is that I am already broken, and not because of the wounds on my body.

I step closer to Bastian and whisper:

—Why are they different?

He looks at me, his expression carrying that air of mystery he seems to enjoy, and leans in until his breath brushes my ear.

—Because mine is one of a kind.

I scoff and shove him away with an annoyed look.