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Arthur lifts his shoulders and drops them softly. “Some might think I’ve lived many lifetimes through this power of mine. But really I’m just a cataloger, holding onto terrible things that are best left forgotten.”
My breath stills inside my lungs. “Is that what happened to Edgar?” He looked so disheveled and lost within himself. I have no doubt he’s spoken with his Shadow, a Nova; his fractured eyes told me the moment I saw him.
“Yes. Edgar didn’t take too well to his restoration,” Arthur mutters as he slowly slides his hands back into his pockets. “He blighted his friend too, which he will not take well. He’s in a fragile state of mind.”
“Why was he so—” I clench my hand over my chest, small ebbs of pain burning there from deep within. My Shadow snuffs it out and I’m left hollow. “Why was he so angry with me?”
Arthur opens his mouth but seems to think better of it. He pauses. “I’m sure you two will figure it out.”
Raine looks at me, the color of his pale skin showing beneath the cracks of dried blood.
“Go on, head upstairs. Your rooms are at the end. Edgar might be in his. I have matters to attend to but will fetch you both when the Culling is complete. Try to rest until then.” Arthur leaves us standing in the black, dreary room.
Raine gives me a sideways glance, tired but comforting. “Shower with me?”
I nod slowly. “Can we talk to Edgar first?”
2
Edgar
Astillness hangs heavily in my room. I sit at the edge of my bed, hunched over with my hands clasped, my chin resting against them. My thoughts are burdened with blood and hatred. A darkness has moved into the chambers of my heart. My mother’s emerald necklace hangs ominously from my neck, slightly twirling and reflecting light onto the glossy black tiles.
A small knock sounds from my door. Then a small hollow voice. “Edgar? Are you okay?”
Lucina.
I narrow my eyes at the floor and remain silent. Never in my life have I craved to be alone, but now it’s an insatiable urge. I want to be alone, I need to be alone.
I much prefer silence since arriving. No one has anything to say that can take my pain away. A part of me wishes I never got my memories back. If I had thrown myself off the cliff and remained foolish, then at least I would be dead and not plagued with the horrid truth.
The terrors I crave to unleash upon Fernestia and all who helped them.
Oh, how I wish I remained ignorant.
The ghost of myself that haunted me at Za’Afiel Sanctum, Sully, tells me to feed on the pain. To let it fester and rot because pain turns into power. Is this how villains are made? How monsters’ hands craft other monsters? I’m what’s left—a molded piece of discarded art.
I’m hopeless, angry. What can one man like me do anyway? My power isn’t strong enough for what I want to do… Is it?
“I’m coming in,” Lucina says against the door. I forgot she was there.
She cracks the door open and peeks in. I don’t bother meeting her gaze.
I can’t.
Lucina makes her way through my gloomy room and opens the long, burgundy curtains that I left shut. Light floods in and I wince. She lets out a sigh. “I never got to apologize for what happened back at the manor.” Her fingers nervously fiddle with the ends of her sleeves. “I’m sorry I tried to help Arthur. I didn’t know what all this was until he gave me my memories back. I know it’s not enough, but I really am sorry.”
I look up at her and she holds my gaze. When I don’t respond, she firms her lower lip and nods. Her blue eyes dance with pain.
“After Ash was taken from the manor, we all lost a lot of hope… I didn’t want to lose you too. So I was desperate to do anything to keep you with us.” Her voice is faint and filled with sadness. I manage to nod. I know Lucina’s heart is pure.
She looks disappointed that I have nothing to say, and she mutters, “There’s someone here to see you.” She turns back toward the door. Her white hair is smooth and clean, fresh from a shower and comb. Dressed in her black tactical clothes, she looks like a warrior, someone fit to kill when told to.
She may be beautiful, but she is a mindless fool, jumping when others tell her to.
“I don’t want to talk to anyone right now,” I snap at her.
Lucina turns back at me and frowns. “Well, they’re here whether you like it or not,” she mutters. The sounds of her steps grow distant and are replaced with two sets of others.
