How Journeys End Chapter Eighteen: The Truth

How Journeys End by Pineapple | Content warnings

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While they weren’t explicitly banned from leaving the castle, Camellia knew it wasn’t proper. Had it been the early months of her stay as the princess’ guard, she would have been stopped and questioned. instead, the last few nights, Siana had been asking Camellia why she didn’t want to stay in the royal quarters to sleep instead of returning to the barracks. Camellia told her that all her dressings were in her own room and she’d been doing extra physical therapy at night. Siana was understanding and offered to help her with the medical care, but Camellia said she didn’t want to disturb her. At least that much had been true.

So, when, Chrysan came knocking on her door in the middle of the night, Camellia was ready. Viola had looked at them with upturned browns and a frown, but Chrysan had given her a bright smile and a wave without pausing to say anything.

They retrieved horses from the stables and left the castle grounds without any trouble, without any weapons, no fanfare, and no letters in case anything went wrong. Leif was trotting steadily beneath her and Chrysan was at her side, but she felt alone as they ventured to where the rebel leader was allegedly hiding out.

Camellia’s stomach turned, and she unconsciously placed a hand over the scarred wound on her side.

Chrysan led them to a small village next to the river. Camellia may have even passed through here when returning the princess home after the abduction—but the place was so unremarkable she couldn’t quite remember if it had been this place or another nameless peasant town. The homes were modest and small, most of them dark in the nighttime already. A few torches were lit around town as people wandered the streets, looking at the newcomers with curious eyes. Candles or lanterns were in the windows of some houses, and Camellia saw shadows pass by.

Chrysan stopped in front of a house and dismounted. Camellia did the same and tied Leif to the nearby post. There were lights in the windows of the small hut, but no silhouettes. No movement. No sign of life.

“How sure are you that Day is here?”

“A friend I met told me,” Chrysan said.

“A friend,” Camellia repeated skeptically.

Chysan nodded with a sure smile. He knocked on the door.

“I have something of yours!” he shouted. “Cori!”

The door opened, but inside was not their former comrade—it was a man who looked a few years older than them. His light green eyes were wrinkling as he glared at the two soldiers, and his yellow hair was traced with silver strands. His pale skin looked as though it was glowing from the low candlelight coming from inside the house.

“And who is this?” the man demanded, tossing a glance at Camellia.

“Lady Camellia Matis,” Chrysan answered. “We’ve come unarmed except for this.”

He pulled the throwing knife from his belt and held it up.

“Are you trying to have the whole village razed to the ground?” the man scolded. The temperature around them seemed to drop. There was a sharp look in the man’s eyes that made Camellia shiver and the hairs on her arms stand up.

“It’s just me and her, that’s all,” Chrysan said. “My lord, please.”

“This isn’t what we agreed on.”

A voice—a familiar warmth—came from within the house. “Lord Edel—let them in.”

The older man’s eyes were cold, but he stepped aside just enough for Chrysan and Camellia to make their way inside the house. The door shut behind them with a thud that sounded like a finality—a trap, maybe. But Camellia ignored the potential risk at her back as she saw the face of the rebels pushing his way out of a trapdoor hidden beneath a rug under a table.

She rushed to him. “Day!”

He crawled out of the floor, nearly knocking his head on the table as he rushed to meet Camellia halfway. “Camellia,” he breathed softly, hugging her. “I’m so relieved to see you healed.”

“You said you wouldn’t leave Gladiolus.” She wrapped her arms around her friend. He smelled like earth and the past. He smelled like what home used to smell like. “What are you doing here? You’re… you’ve… I could kill you, Day.”

He laughed, taking a step back. His eyes were sparkling. “For leaving home? Or because you’re a lapdog for the monarchy now?” he asked, his voice lilting and teasing.

“Both. Either.” She laughed, but it was strangled and watery. “Chrysan, he… he said he found you. You could be in danger.”

“It might be more accurate to say that we found him,” Day corrected. “Lord Edel is a noble from around here, but he’s been supporting us for a while. Giving us information and a place to hide. I owe him my life.”

When Camellia looked over her shoulder at the man, he waved off the praise with a hand. He was standing firm at the door like a guard. She would never have suspected him as a sympathizer. He was the perfect cover, she figured.

“I’m glad I wasn’t a fool for hoping he’d bring you as well,” Day said. He was looking over Camellia like he was looking for everything that was different. He could spend years finding every small change, and Camellia could do the same.

“May I ask why you found me?” Chrysan asked.

It was like a bubble popped, like all the seeds were blown off a dandelion. Day’s face fell into a hardened, serious expression—the face of the leader of the rebels. “Well, a mutual friend of ours had an interest in you,” he said with a smile that looked more like a smirk when Camellia did a double take. “She said you might be upset with her for ruining your little undercover mission.”

“Is Cori here?”

“Do you really expect me to answer that?” he asked back. “I’ll just say ‘of course she isn’t.’”

It could have been a lie or not. The two soldiers would never know for sure unless Day wanted them to, or Cori revealed herself. Camellia heard Chrysan sigh.

“So she told you I might be swayed? Is that it?”

“Not swayed,” Day corrected. “But I believe we may help each other.”

“If you intend on attacking the castle, I don’t think I have anything you want.”

“And yet, you knew where we were. You came unarmed.” Day smiled, genuinely this time, with a raised brow.

Chrysan held up Cori’s knife again. A reminder and a threat.

There was a chill behind the two soldiers. Edel was still behind them, sitting now, on a stool by the door. He was watching Chrysan with narrowed eyes—his own reminder and threat.

“You know we aren’t the enemy, Sir Chrysan Rumex,” Day said.

“I haven’t been knighted.”

Day cocked his head, but before he could say anything, Camellia stepped between them, lowering Chrysan’s raised arm. The cold behind them warmed, and Camellia heard Edel breath easy. “Do you really intend on attacking the castle, Day?”

“If we are not heard soon, then… it seems our only option.”

“Her Highness has said that Lord Denia Pine of Drangea is rendering aid to our people,” Camellia said. “Why is it… You never wanted it to come to this.”

Day sighed. In that small gesture, Camellia felt all the years between them. He moved away, falling into a chair by the table above the trapdoor. “I didn’t,” he said. “All of this should have ended a long time ago, but for some reason, we’re still fighting.”

“There are a lot of things still unanswered,” Chrysan said.

Day looked at him, considering.

“If I need to kill for peace, I will,” Day said, his eyes falling. “But if we could avoid it, I would rather. Cori said you may help if you knew the truth.”

“You convinced General Helianthus to join your cause. He said the war was a sham…”

Day nodded. “When King William Daucus declared war on Gladiolus, he said it was because he believed our government called for Queen Anemone’s assassination. But some of our villages had been attacked beforehand… A lot of our people had to move further inland, where farming is more difficult. Queen Ann helped us in those areas… She was kind.”

“Our homeland has always been attacked for its natural resources, Day,” Camellia said impatiently. “What’s your point?”

“She told us about magic. Taught a few of us how to use it,” he said. “Very few in Gladiolus were able to before.”

A million things flooded Camellia’s mind, but she couldn’t force any of them out of her mouth. Us.

Us, he said.

Day must have seen the look on Camellia’s face, because he smiled. It was a small, weak smile that looked more sad than anything. “Lord Edel has been helping me, but I’m not very good,” he said. “Some of my other friends are much better.”

He turned in his chair so he was facing the two of them and then he rubbed his palms together. Then he rubbed his fingers together, the motion shrinking and shrinking, until he finally ended the sequence of motions with a snap. With the sound, there was a spark. When he opened his clenched hands, there was a small, white ball in each one that looked like the sun. He brought them together and the light grew, glowing, hovering a bit off his palm. The magic gave off a warm light.

“Day, you—” was all Camellia managed. She wanted to cry, a little bit, but she couldn’t explain why.

He closed his fingers over his palm again, and the light was gone. He looked up at Chrysan, and then at Camellia. He chuckled.

“We’ve been told our whole lives that only noble bloodlines could use magic, but Queen Ann taught us that it wasn’t true. And… and, well… some people weren’t happy about it. She… was killed by a Gladiolus citizen, but they were contracted by King William Daucus.”

Chrysan cocked his head. “How do you know they were contracted by the King?”

Day wrung his fingers together. “I was working for the government at the time when Queen Anne was visiting often,” he explained. “There was an agreement. If we killed Queen Anne and allowed Nastur to absorb our country, Nastur would protect us from overseas threats. Our leaders thought it was a good strategy in the long run.”

“But why kill his own wife…? Why go to all the trouble, all the secrecy…?” Camellia mumbled.

“I don’t know.” Day sighed. “There were many people opposed. When I realized I couldn’t stop them from killing her, I joined the rebels. Our own leaders surrendered quickly and peacefully, but the war became drawn out and bloody.”

“I killed the man who killed Queen Ann,” Chrysan said. “He said nothing about this agreement.”

Day’s head snapped up. “You were with her that day?”

Chrysan nodded and Day stood up. Camellia saw Chrysan tense ever so slightly, gripping onto the little throwing knife tighter.

“You…” he began. “I tried to warn her, but she’d already left. My colleagues held me back so I couldn’t… I’m sorry, I…”

Chrysan swallowed hard, looking away from Day like the apology stung.

“There was never any goodwill in King William’s agreement. He used the war as a distraction, so nobody would look into the facts of Queen Ann’s death. He used Gladiolus as a scapegoat, but…”

There was something in Day’s face that made Camellia feel uncomfortable, made her stomach churn. There was an intensity in it that was powerful enough to move countries—and it had.

“I have a contact at the castle,” he said suddenly. “She may be as unhappy as you with—”

He fell forward, to his knees, clutching at his neck.

“Day?” Camellia shouted, rushing to his side. He was shaking underneath her hands. When he tried to speak, all that came out was choked off noises and clipped sounds. Tears were gathering at the corners of his eyes and all she could do was watch and…

And something dragged Day away from her—up, up into the air. He continued to claw at his neck, trying to breathe.

“Camellia, stay back!” Chrysan yelled. She spun to look at him.

There was that look in his eyes—the one from the battlefield. His pupils were pinpointed as he looked at Day, hanging in the air from… from something she couldn’t see, but maybe he could.

He readied the knife.

He threw it.

It hit something, sticking into the air next to him, as if it’d struck something. Day fell to the ground, gasping for air. Camellia rushed to his side again as Chrysan grabbed another knife from the inside of his boot, throwing it again. It stuck into the air just as the first one did. Both of the knives waved through the air wildly, like a snake that had been struck. Then they darted towards the door, catching on the bottom of it, and fell with a clang.

“What happened?” Camellia saw Chrysan’s eyes dilate before he stood up straight again, then went to grab the knives.

“Long distance magic has to have a connection to the caster,” Chrysan explained. He picked up the knives and then went to kneel down to where Camellia was cradling Day in her arms.

“You didn’t come unarmed after all,” Day coughed out. His eyes sparkled with unshed tears.

“Not every magician is powerful enough to cast a spell like that…” Chrysan began to say. “… And you could see it,” Day finished for him.