Chương 103: Chapter 101: The Ghost and The Doll (Part 1).

I did not know where to start. We sat on the floor of the reading room now, side by side, with our backs against the bookshelf. Cordelia's knee was a few inches from mine. The room smelled of old paper and dust and, faintly, of lilies. That last scent was Cordelia's. I had noticed it before. For some reason, I noticed it more now. I stared at my hands. The scrape from the window had stopped stinging. The silence between us was not uncomfortable.

"I'm going to show you something," I said.

"It will be somewhat… bright. Try not to be alarmed by it." Cordelia's gaze was steady. She gave a small nod. I extended my hand forward and pulled. Vaelin materialized in my grip. Crimson light flooded the small room. It bounced off the dirty window and the spines of every book. For a moment, the world was red and nothing else. Cordelia's eyes went wide. Her lips parted and her hands, folded in her lap, trembled faintly. She stared at the blade with an expression I had never seen on her face before. Awe.

She was in awe.

"This is a Godblade. I guess you can tell just by looking at it," I said.

"His name is Vaelin. And I am…what people would call a Hero…I guess." The words sounded strange coming out of my mouth. I had never thought I would say them so deliberately, to a person sitting next to me, close enough that I could smell the lilies. I kept going before she could say something.

"Everyone is going to know in a few days. There will be an article with pictures from the expedition. It's…something I couldn't stop even if I wanted to." I paused. I blinked as my brain caught up to my tongue.

"B-but that's not why I'm telling you now! I would have told you regardless." Cordelia's gaze moved from the blade to my face. Then back to the blade. The light played across her features, turning her green eyes pale.

"How?" she whispered.

"How did this happen?" I told her about the auction, the parts she hadn't seen herself. I told her about the Godblade, and how it had saved my life. About the moment it had settled into my hand and the world had changed. I kept it brief.

"Its Intent is Defiance," I said.

"It's…that one. The one that our fathers were fighting over."

"Defiance," Cordelia repeated. The word sat differently in her mouth than it did in mine. She leaned closer to look at the blade. Her hair shifted, and the scent of lilies grew stronger, and something in my chest was oddly painful.

"Can I hold it?" she asked. Her voice was quiet and so very gentle.

"Is…is that a thing?" I smiled.

"He's rather shy, but we can try." Vaelin hummed, though he did not warn me like the last time I had tried something like this. I turned the blade and offered it to her, hilt first. Cordelia's gloved fingers closed around the grip. The light died instantly. The brilliant glow vanished, and what remained in Cordelia's hands was a strip of rusted metal. The reading room dimmed back to its soft morning light, and Cordelia stared down at the thing she was holding.

"Oh," she said. She looked almost disappointed. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. A hum ran through my mind, faint and warm. Worthy. I blinked. That was…unexpected.

"He likes you," I said. Cordelia stared at me. Then at the dead metal in her hands. Then back at me.

"It can…talk to you?"

"Yes. No. Kind of?" I took the blade back. It flared to life the moment my fingers touched it, crimson light filling the room again. I dismissed it a second later, letting it dissolve back into my mind.

"He speaks in…impressions, mostly. Feelings? Sometimes I can get a sentence out of him, but that's about it."

"You call it 'him.'""It's…complicated. He gives me the impression of a him at least." Cordelia was quiet for a moment. She looked at the space where the blade had been, at my empty hand, and then at my face. Her gaze lingered there. I met it and held it for a breath, then looked away. My pulse was doing something odd. The room was very small.

"So then…the dragon…." Cordelia said.

"On the mountain." She said it hesitantly, as if she already knew the answer.

"Yes," I said.

"I killed it. The final blow was mine. The paper is going to have that too." Cordelia absorbed this. Her expression was careful.

"I would not have been able to do it alone," I added.

"Not even close. The expedition, Count Vance's men, Estovan, they created the opening. And Violet-" I paused.

"Without Violet, I would have died on that mountain. She nearly died for me. I don't forget things like that. I had the final blow, but that's all." Cordelia nodded slowly. Then she was quiet for a time. She had a particular expression when she was genuinely thinking, as opposed to performing thought. Her eyes went slightly unfocused, and her lips parted ever so slightly. I was starting to truly understand her, I think.

"Have you thought about what happens after everyone knows?" she asked.

"A Hero in Aelheim. The Kingdom will take notice. You'll become one of the most important people around. Your life might get very complicated, very quickly." This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

"Not really," I admitted.

"I've had a lot on my plate." Cordelia sighed and it was a deep, weary sigh.

"You are an idiot," she said. I just smiled at her. She looked away. This was where it got harder. I did want to tell her as much as I could. I did not know why, only that I did. I drew my knees up and wrapped my arms around them.

"There's something else," I said.

"You know what happened at Indri Manor? The night he died." Cordelia's attention sharpened.

"The story in all the papers is that a rogue Alestian Hero killed him. That's the version I gave your father and the city." I took a deep breath. It was best to just say it.

"I'm the one who killed him." Cordelia did not gasp. She did not move herself away from me. She reacted so little that for a moment I thought I might not have spoken at all. I stared at her.

"You don't seem surprised." Cordelia's gaze dropped briefly to my right hand. There was no Godblade in it now."You said the intent is Defiance, isn't it?" she said quietly.

"Did you…defy something?" She hadn't asked why did you kill him. I told her about the children. I told her about the tunnel beneath Indri Manor. About the cages. About the Artifacts that no one should have ever made. I did not tell her about Violet's role. That was not my story to share. When I finished, the reading room was very quiet. The sounds of the merchant quarter below felt a thousand miles away. Cordelia sat with her hands in her lap. She had not moved during the entire telling. Her face was pale.

"Children," she said.

"He was doing that to children."

"Yes." She was silent again. The dust drifted in the morning light and I could hear my own breathing. I could hear hers.

"I think you did a good thing," Cordelia said slowly.

"Killing him for what he did, I mean. No, I know you did a good thing." Something loosened in my chest. I hadn't realized how tight it had been.

"Aren't you afraid?" I asked.

"He's not the only person I've killed either. I've even tortured one. I might have to do worse in the future." Cordelia was quiet. She turned her ring once, caught herself, and stopped. The silence stretched between us, but it was not the same silence as before.

"No," she said at last.

"I don't think I am."

"Why not?" Her green eyes found mine. I wanted to look away. The room felt too small and something in my chest was doing that thing again.

"Because of the orphanage," she said simply. I did not understand at first. Then I did, and I closed my eyes.

"Even if the action comes later than one wishes, it is still the action that matters. Not the wishing." She said.

"Do you remember?" I nodded, and opened my eyes. She was still looking at me. Her expression was certain, and there was no calculation behind it at all. I didn't know what to do with that kind of trust. So I just sat with it, and tried not to ruin it. The conversation shifted, gradually, to something lighter. Cordelia was the one who moved it.

"You showed me yours," she said. I looked at her.

"My Gift," she clarified. A faint color rose in her cheeks. She seemed to realize how the first sentence had sounded.

"I mean -my Gift. I have not shown it to many people. My father knows, of course. Alexander does not." She raised her right hand. It was ungloved now. At some point during our conversation, she had pulled her gloves off and set them on the side table. I had not noticed when. Her fingers were long and pale, and I found myself staring at them before I caught myself and looked at the far wall instead. Mana gathered at her fingertips. I saw it with my own eyes first and then confirmed it with Mana Sight.

Thin threads of green light spooled from each finger, so fine they were almost invisible. They drifted outward, catching the morning light. The threads reached a high row of the bookshelf. They wrapped around a book and it pulled, gently, and floated towards us. It turned in the air, slowly. Then it settled back in its original place smoothly. Cordelia flicked her wrist and more threads came. They picked out more books this time.

Three volumes lifted simultaneously, fanned out in the air, and arranged themselves above us in a slow, spiralling pattern. The pages caught the light as they turned and for a moment the reading room was filled with the soft flutter of paper wings. It looked like how magic ought to look. How I had imagined it would look, in another life. Delicate, and beautiful. The books returned to their shelves and the threads dissolved. Cordelia lowered her hand.

"My Gift is these strings," she said.

"I can attach them to anything and move them as I wish. My father calls it a practical Gift. I don't get to use it much save for…." She blushed.

"-that time." Sadness settled somewhere within me. Maybe we do develop the Gifts we need.

"It's beautiful," I said. That was true, and far kinder than what I was thinking. Cordelia blinked. She looked down at her hand and then back at me, as if no one had ever used that word for it before. Perhaps no one had.

"And yours?" she asked.

"You mentioned a Gift as well. One that is separate from the blade. I know you can't have both but…." I hesitated. This was a small thing, compared to everything else. It still made me nervous, in a way I could not quite explain.

"Mine is harder to show," I said.

"It's…internal, for now. I have these-" I searched for the right word.

"-knobs. In my head. Like the dials on a Magical Implement. I can turn my senses up or down. Sight, hearing, smell, pain, balance. Even…feelings." I was fidgeting. My fingers were picking at a loose thread on my coat. Cordelia was watching me.

"So…with your eyes, if you use your Gift…" Cordelia said, leaning forward.

"You can…."

"I can see farther and more clearly than anyone, if I turn it up enough." I nodded.

"Same with hearing, or any other sense. The trade-off is that turning one thing up usually means dealing with the consequences. Enhanced hearing in a crowd is…deeply unpleasant."

"And feelings?" Her voice was careful.

"You can turn those down?"

"Yes." I swallowed.

"Anger, fear or pain. Grief. I can…dull them. Make them manageable. Or I can turn them off almost entirely. Vaelin doesn't like me using those, so I try not to." I could feel her gaze on the side of my face. I was looking at my hands again. My fingers had stopped fidgeting and were now very still in my lap, because I had made them be still.

"You still use it often," she said softly, as if she were absolutely sure.

"More than I should." Cordelia was quiet. I risked a glance at her. She was looking at me.

"We are rather alike, aren't we?" she murmured. I turned to face her fully, and she was right there, close enough that I could count the pale freckles across the bridge of her nose. Her eyes were very green.

"Yes," I said.

"I suppose we are."