Knowledge Is Power: The Last Reader

They heard the crash before they reached the cave.

Aria and Kelme both stopped, their bodies freezing mid-step. The sound echoed through the tunnel—a sharp, shattering noise that seemed to hang in the air like a physical thing.

Then came silence.

Kelme’s face changed, his expression shifting from confusion to something almost like grief. "My plate."

Aria looked at him, her brow furrowing. "Your what?"

"My plate." His voice was hollow, distant.

They hurried into the main chamber, their footsteps echoing off the walls. The merchant was sitting exactly where they had left him, his posture unchanged, his expression carefully neutral. Beside him lay the remains of a small ceramic plate—shattered into a dozen pieces, scattered across the stone floor like fallen leaves.

A few crumbs were scattered among the debris. The remains of a muffin.

Kelme stared at the pieces in horror, his face a mask of genuine anguish. His muffins were ruined by the dirty floor. His plate was broken. He slowly crouched, his fingers reaching toward the fragments.

"My poor sweet muffins..."

The merchant looked embarrassed, his cheeks flushing slightly. "I apologize. I was shaken for a moment."

Kelme stared at him, his expression unreadable. Then at the broken plate. Then back at him. He sighed, a long, defeated sound.

"Whatever." He stood, brushing off his knees. "I’ll go back into town."

Aria blinked, her confusion evident. "For what?"

"A new plate."

"You care about the plate?"

"There was only one." Kelme looked at the broken pieces, his voice carrying a note of genuine loss. "Maybe I’ll get two this time."

Aria stared at him, her expression one of disbelief. "You’re buying plates while we’re hiding from the army?"

"Priorities." He pointed toward her, his tone shifting to something almost playful. "And make more muffins."

Aria’s eyes narrowed dangerously. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

She smiled. It wasn’t a friendly smile. "Go."

Kelme grinned, apparently oblivious to the danger in her voice. "That’s my girl."

Aria’s eyebrow twitched. "Leave."

Kelme laughed and disappeared through the entrance, his footsteps fading into the distance.

---

The cave became quiet.

Aria looked down at the broken plate, her shoulders slumping. She sighed, a long, weary sound that seemed to come from somewhere deep inside her. Then she crouched and began gathering the pieces, her fingers moving carefully among the sharp fragments.

The merchant watched her. There was something strange about his expression—something calculating, something watchful. A half-eaten sugar muffin sat in his hand, forgotten.

Aria noticed his gaze. "What?"

He looked away, his voice carefully neutral. "Nothing."

She continued picking up the pieces, arranging them in a small pile. For a while, neither spoke. The silence was heavy, uncomfortable, filled with things neither of them wanted to say.

Then Aria sighed again. "You know what?"

The merchant looked at her.

"This is stupid." She held one piece of the plate, turning it over in her fingers. "I was supposed to trick Colston. Give the army a lead. Get away." She shook her head, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "Instead, I got trapped in a mill, dragged you into a cave, and somehow turned my business into an international manhunt."

The merchant said nothing, his eyes fixed on her face.

Aria looked toward the cave entrance, her expression distant. "When Kelme comes back, we’re leaving after letting you go."

The merchant raised an eyebrow. "Leaving?"

"We’ll run."

"Where?"

"Somewhere nobody knows us." She shrugged. "I can’t tell you that, you already know to much."

The merchant stared at her, his expression shifting. Aria looked back, her brow furrowing. "What?"

His expression had changed. Something in his eyes—recognition, perhaps, or understanding.

"You’re the White Princess."

It wasn’t a question.

Aria stopped moving. For several seconds, she simply looked at him, her face unreadable. Then she lowered her eyes.

"I suppose you figured it out."

The merchant watched her carefully.

"I didn’t know." she said with a sad face.

"Know what?"

"That the sugar would hurt anyone." Her voice became quieter, softer. "I really didn’t."

She looked at the broken plate in her hands, her fingers tracing the jagged edges. "I thought it was just sugar. I thought people wanted it."

The merchant said nothing.

"I’ll stop." She looked around the cave, her expression one of determination. "I’ll burn the whole operation down. No more sugar."

For once, she wasn’t joking.

The merchant’s face tightened, his jaw clenching. For a second, Aria thought he was going to say something angry—something accusatory, something that would confirm all the guilt she was already carrying.

Instead, his expression softened. "Then perhaps you’ve learned your lesson."

Aria blinked, surprise flickering across her face. "Really?"

He nodded. "Yes."

She smiled faintly, a flicker of relief in her eyes. "I’m sorry about your daughter."

The merchant twitched. Only for an instant—a barely perceptible movement that most people would have missed. But Aria noticed.

He’s lying.

Of course he was. He was a merchant. His entire profession depended on knowing what people wanted to hear. Fake it until they buy. She didn’t blame him—not anymore. She simply didn’t want to talk.

"Fine." She stood, her movements tired. "As long as you don’t cause trouble, I’ll let you go."

The merchant nodded.

Aria carried the broken plate toward the smaller chamber where they kept their trash. She didn’t notice him watching her. She didn’t notice his hand moving. She didn’t notice the sharp piece of ceramic disappearing beneath his sleeve.

---

Aria dropped the broken pieces into the trash, her mind elsewhere. Then she paused, her brow furrowing. Something felt wrong.

She looked down at the plate fragments. It felt lighter. Not much—barely enough to notice. But she had used that plate before. She knew its weight.

Aria frowned. "Did I miss a piece?"

She picked the fragments back up, her fingers sorting through them. One by one, she arranged them on the ground. Almost complete. Almost.

One piece was missing.

Aria looked around, her eyes scanning the floor. Then she saw it—a long, narrow shard, its shape almost like a little dagger. She reached toward it.

A sudden movement came from behind her.

Aria’s instincts reacted before her mind did. She spun, her body moving on pure reflex.

A flash of broken ceramic struck her—a wild, desperate slash aimed at her throat. She responded automatically, light erupting from her hand in a blinding burst.

The merchant was thrown backward, his body slamming against the cave wall with a sickening crunch.

Silence.

Aria stared, her breath catching in her throat. The merchant lay several feet away, crumpled against the stone, his chest barely moving.

Her eyes widened. "No..."

She rushed toward him, her hands already glowing with healing light. "You... why?"

The merchant struggled to move, his face twisted with pain and anger. "You monster."

Aria froze, her hands hovering over his wounds. "I can heal you."

He pushed her hand away, his voice weak but fierce. "Stay away from me!"

"Stop moving."

He tried to get up, his limbs trembling with effort. "You killed my daughter!"

"I didn’t!"

"You did!"

"I didn’t know!"

He reached for something on the ground—a broken piece of wood, sharp and jagged. He threw it toward her with the last of his strength.

Aria moved aside, the wood clattering against the wall behind her. "Stop!"

"You’ll pay!" His voice was weaker now, barely a whisper, but the anger remained. "I’ll make you pay!"

"Stop fighting!" Aria reached for him again, her hands still glowing. "I can still help you!"

He resisted, pushing her away with what little strength he had left. Then he tried to crawl toward the entrance, his fingers clawing at the stone floor.

Aria stared at him, tears forming in her eyes. "Please."

He didn’t stop.

"You don’t understand!"

"I understand enough!"

"You ruined everything!" His voice cracked, breaking on the words. "My daughter is dead!"

Aria’s eyes filled with tears. "I know."

He kept moving, dragging himself toward the entrance. Aria tried again to heal him, her hands pressing against his wounds. Nothing. She tried once more. Still nothing.

Her hands began trembling. "No."

She tried again, pouring more energy into the healing light. "Come on."

Nothing.

"No, no, no..."

The merchant became still.

Aria froze, her hands still pressed against him. She stared at his face, searching for any sign of life. Then she checked again. And again.

She tried to heal him one more time. Nothing.

She sat there, silent, her hands stained with blood. Then the tears came.

"Why?" Her voice barely existed, a broken whisper in the silence. "Why would you do that?"

She looked at him, her vision blurring. "I was going to let you go. I said I was sorry."

She kept trying anyway, her hands pressing against his wounds as though one more attempt could somehow change what had already happened.

"Why?"

The cave gave her no answer. Only silence.

---

Kelme returned almost an hour later.

He carried two plates, their surfaces gleaming in the dim light. A bag dangled from his other hand, filled with supplies. He was smiling, his expression light and cheerful.

"I got two this time."

No answer.

He stopped, his smile fading. "Aria?"

He stepped farther into the cave, his footsteps slowing. Then he saw her.

She was sitting on the floor, her hands stained, her face wet with tears. The merchant was lying several feet away, his body still, his eyes closed.

Kelme dropped the bag. The plates nearly slipped from his hands.

"Aria."

She didn’t look at him. "I killed him."

Kelme slowly approached, his movements careful. "Aria—"

"I’m evil."

"No, we’re the lesser evil at best."

"There isn’t a lesser evil." She stared at the floor, her voice hollow. "No justified evil. No necessary evil. Evil is evil."

Kelme crouched beside her, his expression softening. She finally looked at him, her eyes red and swollen.

"I’m evil."

Kelme understood immediately. Nothing he said would convince her otherwise—not right now. So he didn’t try. He looked at the merchant, then back at her.

"Okay."

Aria frowned. "Okay?"

"I’m not going to argue with you." He sat beside her, his shoulder brushing against hers. "Because you’re not going to believe me."

Aria looked away.

Kelme took a breath. "Crying and blaming yourself is easy." She looked at him. "Doing better isn’t."

He pointed toward the cave entrance. "So let’s do better."

Aria said nothing.

"Let’s balance the scale."

"How?"

Kelme’s expression hardened. "We go after Colston."

Aria looked at him. "Why?"

"Because there’s someone responsible for thousands of people suffering." Kelme stood, his voice firm. "Let’s stop him."

Aria slowly rose, her legs unsteady. Kelme looked at her.

"Pay for your sin, Aria."

She stared at him, her expression unreadable. For several seconds, she didn’t understand where was this coming from. Then she did.

Not because killing Colston would magically erase what happened. It wouldn’t. Nothing could. But she needed somewhere to put the anger. Somewhere to put the guilt. Somewhere to put everything inside her that was screaming for an answer.

She wiped her face. "You’re right."

Kelme nodded.

Aria looked toward the cave entrance, her expression changing. The sadness remained—it would always remain. But underneath it was something harder. Something colder. Something that had been forged in the fire of her own mistakes.

"Let’s go kill that bastard."

Kelme picked up his bag. "Finally."

Aria glanced at him. "And if we die?"

Kelme shrugged. "Then at least we’ll die doing something useful."

She almost smiled. Almost.

They walked toward the entrance, their footsteps echoing in the silence. Neither noticed the broken plate behind them—two pieces, then three. And beside them, a tiny smear of sugar.

The next person they hunted would not be a merchant.

It would be Edward Colston.