Crimson and Gold

When Saria and Lysandra came back to the Royal Palace, it was already late afternoon.

Immediately after getting off the carriage, the Princess said she was feeling unwell and locked herself in her chambers.

To everyone who knew her even a little, it was obvious that the news about Icarus’ fate had shaken her to her core.

Saria initially thought about following after her and comforting her, but in the end decided to back off and give her some space to process everything.

However, after resting for a few hours and still having no message from Lysandra, she started feeling restless.

She went for a walk around the vast Palace grounds.

Without thinking much, after a while, she found herself standing before the shrine of Astesis.

There she found Lysandra.

Saria considered approaching, but seeing her deep in her thoughts, she didn’t want to impose.

She started walking away, but then she heard Lysandra speak.

“My mother ordered this shrine to be built for my birthday. She said that on the night I was born, she saw a falling star in the sky. Apparently, it was a sign that I was blessed by the Goddess herself.”

“I didn’t know your mother worshiped the Ten. I thought she was Shahrezi.” Saria asked, walking towards Lysandra and sitting next to her.

“She was. But she converted after marrying my father. She wanted to share the afterlife with her family.”

Lysandra lowered her eyes. “Sometimes I wonder if her death was a punishment by the Āsmānar Gods for forsaking them.”

Saria shifted closer, hoping that her presence could offer some comfort. “How did she...”

“Her health deteriorated significantly after I was born. I was six when she passed away.” Lysandra’s voice was calm, but the old grief was still present.

“While she was still alive, she spent most of her time in bed. The last two years, she couldn’t even walk. After her passing, I would come to the shrine every day, just so I could be a little closer to her.”

Lysandra grew silent, thinking about something. She raised her head to look at the marble statue of the Goddess. “This is where he first contacted me.

“Icarus?”

Lysandra nodded. “It was a difficult time for me. A lot of things happened that I couldn’t make sense out of. Every day, I felt like I was drowning.

“That’s when he reached out and saved me,” she said, then a long pause followed. “And he paid for this with his life.”

Tears rolled down Lysandra’s cheek. The storm in her heart that she was trying so hard to contain found its way out, pouring out all the bottled-up feelings.

Saria pulled her into her arms. “It was his choice. He had to know the danger, and he accepted it. He knew you were worth it.”

Lysandra hid her face in the nook of Saria’s neck and wept quietly.

She felt overwhelmed by grief and regret. The most painful was the sense of helplessness.

No matter how well prepared she was, it was never enough. Someone always had to pay the price for her inadequacy.

She couldn’t stand it.

“I’m tired of losing people. I’m tired of Loukios always being one step ahead. I’m tired of being so helpless,” she said and pulled away.

Saria watched her cautiously. “What do you want to do?”

“The prophecy Drusus mentioned,” she said, “If Loukios is so obsessed with it, we need to get to it before he does.”

“Alright. Where do we start?”

“I’ll have Drusus start looking for it when he gets better. He knows people who could point us in the right direction.”

“Should I start looking too? Maybe go through some of Loukios’ people in the city. One of them may know something,” Saria offered, thinking about who she should look for first.

“No. Drusus and the other can take care of it.”

Saria looked at her, puzzled. “What do you want me to do then?”

Lysandra moved closer and rested her head on her shoulder. She took her hand and interlocked their fingers together.

“Stay with me,” she whispered. “Stay with me and promise me that you won’t let anything happen to you. If… If I lose you too…”

“You won’t.” Saria placed a gentle kiss on her head. “I’ll always be here.”

They sat by the shrine in silence for another hour before returning to the pavilion belonging to the Princess.

In her quarters, Saria kept Lysandra company until she finally fell asleep, exhausted from crying and the worries of the past few days.

Not wanting to leave her side, Saria lay down next to her soon after.

Ever since the first visit to the Temple, she could rarely rest peacefully at night. Most times when she closed her eyes to rest, she would be immediately welcomed by exhausting nightmares.

The lost fragments of her memories that came back to haunt her.

This night was no different.

The dreams appeared the moment she closed her eyes and kept tormenting her all the way till morning.

She saw herself watching Lysandra and Icarus from a distance. Sitting on the same branch, on the same tree, she was far enough to hear only a vague murmur of their hushed voices.

And yet, she could still hear the affection woven in every word, notice every flicker of sweet feelings hidden in Lysandra’s eyes.

The sensation in her own heart was a stark contrast. It was bitter and twisted, flooding her mind with dark thoughts.

She couldn’t stand seeing them together. Seeing him by Lysandra’s side, where her place should be. She should have been the one in her mind and heart.

At first, Saria felt disgusted with the emotions she felt, then with the eagerness, her hand reached for the dagger.

But as soon as her fingers closed on the cold steel hilt, she relaxed.

After all, soon her problems would be solved.

He was marked to die.

There were people who wanted him gone as much as she did, and they reached out to Sekaris to deliver death to him.

Of course, when she learned that Father was deciding who should be the one to take this task, Saria volunteered.

There was nobody more suited for it than her. With so much hatred burning in her heart, there was no chance he would live another day.

Even if she had to pay with her own life for it.

As long as he was gone, that was good enough.

As long as there was nobody else by Lysandra’s side, she was willing to accept death.

Eventually, she saw them part ways.

Dagger in hand, she cast the last longing gaze at the Princess, then followed after him.

It didn’t take long for her to catch up with him.

In the dark alley, she drove the blade right through his heart.

Then again.

And again.

And again.

Only when she could no longer hold the dagger, did she stop. She looked at her hands, drenched with still-warm blood.

Viscous, slick blood of the one she hated the most.

He lay at her feet completely still. A sight, she couldn’t get enough of.

She inhaled deeply, reveling in the sweet scent of iron that filled her lungs.

She felt at peace. Relaxed. Calm, for the first time in forever, she felt calm.

Then, she drowned in joy she couldn’t contain anymore.

She started laughing. Laughing so hard that tears started rolling down her cheek.

She was so, so very happy.

Saria snapped awake, drenched in sweat. Her panicked heart was pounding in her chest so loudly that it sounded like thunder.

She looked at her hands. There was no sign of blood on them, but she could still feel its warmth on her skin so vividly.

She clenched her fists a few times to dispel the unnerving sensation, then looked to the side.

Lysandra was still sound asleep. The trail left by the tears was still visible on her face, but her expression was much more relaxed now.

Saria exhaled with relief. She didn’t wake her up.

Trying to make as little noise as possible, she got up from the bed and went to wash her face in the basin.

She looked at her own reflection, seeking signs of the same sick joy she felt in her dream.

Was this who she was?

Was this what happened?

Saria kept staring into her own reflection unblinking, waiting for it to answer her.

But in the end, the only thing she saw was a pair of crimson eyes, equally lost as she was.

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