My mind sputtered as I tried to process what Cisco had just said. "You were going to kill Baruuk? For me? Tonight? What was your plan?"
When Cisco was on the battlefield, I could swear dark clouds formed around him, as if he was so powerful he could harness the might of a storm to kill. I could feel those clouds and that gust of wind engulf us both. "The plan was to kill him or die trying."
"Are you serious?" I hissed. "You always have an extensive plan."
"You said it yourself — rage makes people make rash decisions."
"We are not going to act rashly," I said, giving him a pointed look. "That would put my sister at risk."
There was a long pause, where I could see Cisco knew what he wanted to say, but hesitated to say it. "If I kill Baruuk for you, if you have nothing to do with it, no one will have any reason to blame you for his death." He took my shoulders in his warm hands, pleading with me to understand. "They will have no reason to kill Hetty."
Alarm bells went off in my head. "If you kill Baruuk, you'll be king." Cisco knew about Hetty. If Cisco became king, he could easily use Hetty against me as Baruuk had.
"So I'll get to help out a friend, and inherit both Espazota and Calidonica. It's a win-win situation for me. It would hardly be a chore."
Years of mistreatment from a man in a position of authority was a hard thing to shake. Suspicion surrounded me like a thick fog. "I should be the one to kill Baruuk. I'm the one he's been manipulating all these years."
Cisco's face fell when he saw mine. "Why does it look like killing him would hurt you?"
Because despite what I said earlier, he's the closest thing I have to a father. Because he made me stronger than I was. Because I would be nothing if it wasn't for his training.
A memory which should have been hazy because it had happened so long ago filtered into my consciousness. I was ten years old, and making my first public appearance at Baruuk's side. Stories of my existence and my abilities had spread far and wide. Baruuk wanted to show our people that I was not just a myth or legend, but a real threat to our adversaries.
I rode a recently tamed Buzzard, whose hard-won affection was becoming one of the only sources of joy Baruuk provided me with. He was so tall that I towered over even the tallest adults we passed on the road.
A crier heralded our arrival, and citizens of Calidonica flooded the streets. I couldn't believe they came to see the man who had raised me. It was the first time I felt the breadth of Baruuk's power and influence. When he spoke, everyone obeyed. I wasn't the only person at his mercy. People respected Baruuk, at least it seemed they did at first. I wondered if I should learn to respect him, too.
But then I saw the downward arc of their lips, the lines in their faces etched from years of misery. It wasn't adoration I saw in their eyes -- I saw hatred lurking beneath the surface. They neither cheered nor jeered as we passed. Rather an eerie silence filled the streets. I remembered wondering why the world outside of the palace was so different from the way Baruuk had described it.
The sun was hot, my pale skin was burnt from days of exposure. And I was feeling faint from dehydration. But Baruuk said I had to appear mighty and strong, or else the people wouldn't respect me. So I sat as tall and proud as I could in Buzzard's saddle.
As we passed through a distant village the crowd was unusually loud. They murmured as we passed, and their hateful eyes cut me deep. They seemed to not only hate Baruuk, but to hate me as well. What had I done to those people to make them hate me? Until then they hadn't even been entirely sure I existed.
Then, a lancing pain cut through my chest. The force of the arrow that pierced me knocked me off balance, and I fell from Buzzard's back all the way to the cobblestone street. The pain was white hot — a pain I could have never fathomed at only ten years old. I cried for Baruuk to help me. My body was trying to heal, but it couldn't fully heal with the —
A scream tore from my mouth as Baruuk ripped the arrow from my chest. I had never known such great pain could lead to such profound relief. I curled in on myself and sobbed as I held my knees to my chest.
"Stand, Lura," Baruuk commanded. When I didn't move, guards lifted me to my feet. Once I stood, I looked up into Baruuk's face to see the harsh, unrelenting look on his face I was becoming more and more familiar with.
"You saved me," I said as I wrapped my small arms around Baruuk's waist.
Almost as soon as I latched onto him, he wrenched me away. His hands gripped my shoulders firmly as he turned me toward the crowd. Guards ushered a man through the crowd I'd seen earlier. He had had his daughter sitting on his shoulders, and I wished Baruuk would do that for me. It looked fun.
The guards threw him to the ground at my feet. "This is the man who shot you," Baruuk spat.
It didn't make sense. I couldn't believe it. This man was with his children earlier, he bore no weapon. He was not the person who had shot me.
"I didn't do it! She's just a child. Why would I harm a child?" he said, his words a desperate plea. His small children clung to his waist as he pleaded for mercy.
"This man didn't shoot me," I protested. I knew this, but Baruuk's insistence made me wonder if my judgement was sound.
"Don't question me, Lura. You know what needs to be done."
As the man insisted he didn't shoot me, others spat curses at me. "Monster!" they cried. And the most confusing name of all — Starborn — was hissed as if it were a secret. Tears streamed down my face. Baruuk told me I would save the people of Calidonica, but they hated me. They feared me. Was I the monster they believed me to be? Baruuk had told me I was superior to the average human, not barely human.
I turned to Baruuk for protection, but he was no longer by my side. In his absence, the crowd swarmed in. Adults three times my size knocked me to the ground, kicking me on my head and ribs. Others ripped chunks of hair off my head. Others spat in my face.
Tears streamed down my face, and I cried for Baruuk to save me. But I quickly realized no one was coming to save me. I didn't want to do what Baruuk taught me to do — to kill, brutally and efficiently. I had killed before, but it was always from the safety of the palace, and my victim was always a convicted criminal. But these were just ordinary people.
Ordinary people who wanted me dead.
I closed my eyes, and my stomach clenched as I reached within myself to unleash the darkest part of me. My eyes glowed as I cast my power wide. Suddenly the beating stopped, and my attackers fell silent.
A heavy body toppled onto me. Fully aware that the body belonged to someone I'd just killed, I released a shrill scream as I scurried out from under the body. When I stood, I looked down to see I was surrounded by at least a dozen dead bodies, their necks shattered.
I looked out across the crowd, which had grown silent. They no longer jeered, but their look of complete and utter horror was so much worse. The silence was unbearable — I could hear my own blood rushing in my ears, my pulse racing. I released a bone-chilling screech, as ferocious as the guttural roar of a bear, and the crowd scattered, stumbling over each other to escape my wrath.
I fell to my knees as they fled and buried my face in my hands. When the familiar weight of Baruuk's hand fell on my shoulder another screech tore from me. My throat was raw from screaming and crying, but it felt good to let people hear me roar.
"Mercy makes you weak, Lura. Did you see how quickly those people turned on you once they sensed your mercy?" I pushed myself off the ground and wiped the tears away with the sleeve of my shirt. "They're animals, and should be treated as such. They don't deserve your mercy, Lura."
From that day on, I was very careful with how I acted in public. I took great care to stand tall, to wield eye contact as a weapon, and to never, ever let them see me cry.
"Baruuk has tortured my sister more times than I can count. He's forced me to do unspeakable things —" My voice caught in my throat. Baruuk had molded me to be deadly, intimidating, and merciless, and those qualities had undoubtedly saved me on many occasions.
When I thought of all of the heinous war crimes Cisco had committed, I knew I had revealed another weakness to the wrong person.
Cisco searched my eyes for the truth. The truth which I had already laid bare. "You've never wanted to hurt anyone, have you?"
"I'm the kind of person who would destroy the world to protect the one I love." It was meant to be a threat. I infused the statement with as much wrath as I could muster.
Cisco's gaze never wavered from my eyes. "We have that in common. However, no matter what I do to others, I can still sleep at night. Can you?"
I thought of the countless times Cisco had rushed into my room or tent when he heard me screaming in my sleep. I'd always brushed it off as common nightmares, but Cisco was too sharp not to piece everything together. He'd surely think less of me for it. My silence was all the admission he needed.
"I know you've done things you've regretted," I countered.
Cisco shrugged and looked out the window. "Sure, I have regrets." I remembered the letter that laid on my desk a year earlier — the letter that changed everything.
The image of the letter was in clear focus in my mind.
"I have committed an atrocity I can't bear to confess to you, for fear you'll never look at me the same again. I woke up the next morning with a feeling of self-loathing I've never felt. I confess this to you, not because I think it will absolve me of guilt, but because I have a feeling you may be the only person who will hold me accountable for my actions."
His letter left me lost and confused. The boy I knew was incapable of committing atrocities, or so I thought. I wondered if I had misjudged Cisco. It terrified me to think that my closest friend was capable of great evil, when he'd only ever been friendly, charming, jovial Cisco to me. But the reports of the battles he'd led that we received from King Darius made me wonder if the Cisco I was friends with and the crown prince of Espazota were the same person.
It wasn't until Darius and Cisco's visit a month later that my worst fears were confirmed. Darius' deep, sonorous voice filtered into my mind in fragments as I stared as if he were a complete stranger.
"…Burned the village to the ground… took the women and children and let the men burn… that'll teach Bethidia a lesson."
As Darius relayed the events on the Bethidian border, Cisco was fixed solely on the drink in his hand. I desperately needed him to look at me, to reveal with one roll of his eyes that this was all some sick, twisted joke. But when he finally looked me in the eyes, I saw the ugly truth — everything Darius said was true.
"I hear nothing but congratulations back home," Cisco said later, as we sat on the lake's shore, his words slurred as he gulped down more liquor from his canteen. "To my father, it's my crowning achievement. To me, it was the worst night of my life."
I didn't know what to say. I hadn't realized Cisco could ever feel anything similar to what I felt — I thought no one else could experience the type of conflict I felt on a daily basis.
His eyes, tears swelling and gathering in his lower lashes, turned to me. I could see he was forcing himself to meet my gaze as he confessed these feelings he'd not admitted to anyone else. "Do you think I'm a monster?"
An ache grew in my chest as I considered my own feelings on the matter.
"Whose idea was it, yours or your father's?" I asked. To me, that made all the difference.
"It was wholly my idea," he said, and the words lacerated my heart. "I won't deny I've committed horrendous deeds, and King Thor had razed our border villages to the ground." Cisco rubbed his eyes, trying to conceal that tears threatened to fall, and failing. "I thought he deserved it, but it wasn't Thor who felt the heat of the flames. I crossed a line."
The words escaped my mouth before I could consider them. Everything about that day by the lake felt surreal and dreamlike, and just as in a dream, my concept of consequences was blurred.
"I've crossed so many lines. I've done things I can't believe I could do to another human being." I had been staring at my hands clinging tightly to each other in my lap, but I needed him to feel the full weight of my next words. "I would do it, if Baruuk asked me to, but I could never give that order myself."
As I stood, brushing the dirt off my pants, Cisco's eyes followed me. "You're a better person than I'll ever be."
I extended my hand, gesturing for him to hand me his canteen. "That may be, but there's no point sulking." When he handed me the canteen, I chucked it into the lake. "Best to bury it down deep and forget about it."
I could tell Cisco wasn't all there from the way he didn't react to me tossing his drink into the lake. "You sound like you're talking from experience."
With a wave of my hand, I swept Cisco off the ground. "It's not smart to drink and ride horseback," I said, and carried him all the way back to the palace.
Recalling this memory helped me make sense of what he confessed next.
"Have you ever dreamed of a world where war wasn't the answer to all of our problems?"
"Constantly," I admitted.
"From the perspective of wasted resources, all of this war doesn't make sense," Cisco said, pacing away from me. His muscular figure was silhouetted in the moonlight, the shadows on his dark skin disguising his facial features. "And I dread becoming a king my people fear. I want to be known as the king who brought peace to Novalya. I don't want to be known as just another king who wrung his people dry of all their resources. Conversely, I don't want to be a king who allows his violent neighbors to walk all over him."
"Where does that leave you, then?" I asked. His confession was surprising. He always went above and beyond in his duties to his king. Any assignment he received, he exceeded everyone's expectations. He was an overachiever by every definition of the word. But he always did as his father asked.
King Darius was more progressive than any other sovereign on Novalya, but I knew for certain the world Cisco allowed himself to dream of was like nothing any of the other sovereigns had ever dreamed of. When I allowed myself to dream, I saw fragments of what he envisioned. But the world Cisco envisioned was so real to him, he had practically already made it a reality.
If there was anyone capable of doing it, it was him. Cisco was capable of doing anything he put his mind to. I was certain of that. His dreams made my narrow-minded visions of my own future seem pathetic and selfish. All I wanted was to live a quiet life with my sister. Even if I did become queen, I would have probably ruled as Baruuk had taught me how to rule. I couldn't imagine a better way, only that the path I was following was fruitless and futile.
I had no imagination. And despite my feelings of moral superiority, Cisco outshone me in every respect.
"It leaves me to prove myself to my people as a capable leader in ways they understand until my father passes the title of king onto me. Then, no one will question my capability to do whatever I want to make my dream a reality." Cisco looked back at me and I caught a glimpse of the hope within him. It was brilliant. "Do you think my dreams are childish and idealistic? Because that's what my cousins call them."
"If anyone can do it," I said, breathless, "you can."
Cisco smiled. "No one has more faith in me than you." He circled back around and stood with his hands on his hips before me. "So since we're not going to do anything rash, do you have a plan for how you're going to overthrow Baruuk?"
"I do," I said, though I was suddenly doubting myself in ways I never had before. People spent so much time showering me with praise and making sycophants out of themselves, grovelling at my feet. But I don't think I'd ever gained more respect from anyone than I had for Cisco. "Let's meet back here before dawn. I need to think about it some more."
Cisco gave me a Calidonican salute, pressing his fist to his chest and bowing his head. "I am yours to command," he said, but as he bowed his smirk betrayed him. Still bowed, he looked up at me with eyes that said things I didn't understand, but which made my insides melt.
He slipped out of my room without another word, leaving me questioning why and how Cisco had this effect on me. It felt wild and dangerous, and completely out of my control. I felt as if Cisco and I were playing a deadly game to see who could fall harder and faster for the other. I was most definitely falling, but every reason I had for catching myself before I fell was as painful to hold onto as a double-edged sword.
I used my mind to carry my armchair by the fire to the window and sank down into it. The place I went to when it was all too much was the stars. So I stared up into the stars, and from my safe place I allowed myself to dream.