100: Honest Life
Bernadetta had, for the first time that she could remember since she was still a child, been totally honest with someone.
She had told Isabella about her situation. She’d left no details out. She had informed her honestly what she would do in Isabella’s position—namely, to kill Bernadetta and be done with it. She hadn’t hidden the fact that she had arranged for her own parents to be killed, and she hadn’t lied about who she truly was. She laid it all bare for her cousin to see. And after being honest… her life was spared.
And to repay her… months ago, while this scheme was under development…
“I have something about Isabella you should know,” she said, standing before the sages.
She did exactly what she always did.
“I have something about the sages you should know,” she said, standing before the shield through which Balat, the devil spoke through.
She played both ends against the middle. And yet… what was the middle?
***
“It’s not quite over yet,” Isabella said to Valerio. Bernadetta could barely hear them from beyond her cabin. “The others remain.”
Bernadetta opened her cabin door and exited out onto the deck of the ship. “I hope that I’m not included in those others.”
Valerio turned to look at her in surprise, but Isabella was more composed.
“I believe those others are being taken care of,” Bernadetta said. “I’ve done what you wanted me to, Isabella.”
Valerio wrapped one arm around Isabella and positioned himself in front of Isabella, as if to shield her. Bernadetta found it amusing. Did he genuinely think she was dangerous?
Valerio drew a dagger, holding it subtly out of sight. “What are you talking about?”
“How certain are you it’ll work, Bernadetta?” Isabella asked calmly, holding Valerio’s arm to keep him calm. It was almost as if there was an expected answer.
“Quite certain.”
Valerio didn’t look to understand just yet, but he put away his daggers. “Clue me in.”
Bernadetta walked out to the sea, staring out. “Isabella wanted me to convince your two assassins to fight over a prize that didn’t exist.” She leaned on the railing. “She wanted to play on their greed.”
A faint smile played about Isabella’s lips. She looked at Valerio. “And here you thought sparing her would be a bad idea. What did you say, exactly?” Isabella still asked. “Out of curiosity.”
“Shall I describe the scene for you?”
***
“Isabella has worked with the Khans to use the soul mark left on her to steal away Edgar’s power,” Bernadetta said.
“That’s rubbish,” Balat said with loud condescension. “That defies all I know about the power. If it were something that could be stolen away so easily, I would’ve done it long ago. The owner must consent.”
“Are you certain of that?” Bernadetta pressed. “I know for a fact their deal. They’re splitting the power. Isabella intends to consume hers to break the pact you made with her.”
The shield on the wall smiled wide. “Do you think I don’t know your character, Bernadetta?”
“Why would she pact herself with both you and the Khans if not to attempt something like this?” Bernadetta asked. “She gave you a condition to your deal, didn’t she? She demanded that you never interact with Edgar’s soul, that you never contact him whatsoever. Why do you think that is?”
The smile on Balat’s avatar stayed totally still, while the eyes watched her wordlessly.
“Do you really think that they wouldn’t dare try?”
***
“Isabella has struck a deal with the devil Balat to take Edgar’s soul, and his powers of time with it,” Bernadetta described.
One of the Khans laughed, while the other said, “That’s absurd. A mortal can’t sell the soul of another.”
“But she can help create a situation wherein he would sell his soul,” Bernadetta said. “The trap she’s proposing… it would result in torturing Edgar for an eternity. Why do you not think that Balat might not be able to reach out to Edgar, to try and persuade him to succumb? And once they split that power… there’s nothing they can’t achieve. You two know that.”
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The Khans looked between each other.
“Why would she pact herself with both you and the Khans if not to attempt something like this?” Bernadetta asked. “She gave you a condition to your deal, didn’t she? She demanded that you never attempt to contact Edgar, that you forego negotiating whatsoever. It could be for safety… but what if it’s so that they can fool you?”
Bernadetta shrugged as the Khans deliberately in silence.
“Do you really think that they wouldn’t dare try?”
***
In the stretch of sea where King Edgar had met his end, the skies and the ocean both raged furiously. In the depths of the sea, a devilish form could just barely be made out. Up high in the sky, two figures that thought themselves gods hovered clad in white and surrounded by clouds. Power of unprecedented scale wracked the area between them.
Both fought for the same reason—treachery suspected by the other. One side cloaked their intentions with idealism, while the other pursued it without pretense. The end result was the same. They sought to bend the world to their whim, forever ensuring that what they wish the world to be would come to be. Whatever vague pretext they had to pursue this, all of it faded here on the battlefield as both desperately struggled for survival.
“One of us needs to flee!” one of the Khans shouted to the other. “Our dream must live on!”
“No!” the other Khan shouted. “If either of us flees, failure is inevitable. If you don’t stay until the end, I’ll…”
And just as there was a battle between Balat and the sages, so too was there tension between the two Khans. There could be no doubt that if one chose to flee, the other would not permit that. And thus, both of them stayed hopelessly deadlocked against a foe their equal. Rather than surrender themselves to a greater cause, they chose to do something they knew was foolish. Power was control—and why would they allow the other to control fate?
Is that not the nature of allies in the great game of power? If one witnesses another lie, cheat, and abuse others to get their way, can they not assume that one day those abuses might be visited upon them? Rather than advance and grow as a whole, they would prefer to leave the world in perpetual decline so long as their share of a shrinking pie is larger than their fellows.
On and on this dance of devils went, dancing toward no greater end. Fire and lightning, ice and water, light and darkness… the dying past and the shining future both clashed over the tyrant’s grave, blind as blind might be. The devils carved streaks of brilliance across the sky, each beam a vow shouted into the uncaring void.
I will not bow, each vowed. I will not yield. I alone deserve the world.
But on that day, they learned the truth. The sea drowns kings and devils both. They deserved the world no more than the world deserved them. The Khans slew the devil, but could not slay the sea. Though victorious, their power was exhausted, and they plummeted below. As the water choked their screams, as they struggled in vain among the dead, the power they sought was the last thing on their minds.
And soon enough, the seas resumed course. The work of devils might change it, briefly… but in time, it triumphed.
***
“And how can you be so confident that things will proceed as you say they will?” Valerio demanded, walking forward.
“If I’m wrong, I’ll bear full responsibility. But I only say that because I’m confident that I’m not.” Bernadetta smiled, then looked at Isabella. “Besides, this was her plan, not mine. To pit them against one another. To have them fight over you, like some twisted love triangle.”
Isabella said nothing for a time, and then walked up to join Bernadetta. “I sold my soul to many devils. If any of them hoped to truly claim it, they needed remove all of the other claimants. Such was the justification for the civil war visited upon Dovhain in my last life… and the one narrowly avoided in this one.”
Bernadetta nodded. “I understand their psychology well enough. And I’ve known about Balat long before I came to the north. I’ve told you the truth,” Bernadetta said. “Just as I did last time. I suppose the only thing that matters now is what happens next. Because even if two devils fall, one still remains. Am I right?”
Valerio looked at Isabella, not moving without her explicit approval.
“What kind of life do you want to lead from hereon, Bernadetta?” Isabella asked.
Bernadetta looked out to the ocean, considering the question as if it was the first time she’d been asked it—or at least, the first time she’d considered it. “I think I’ll be satisfied with whatever I get. Because all the things I’ve chased… none of it amounted to anything. Now? They’re dead.” Bernadetta smiled. “Edgar, Khan, my parents… all dead. Patricide—we have that in common, it would seem. I’m honest to you but once, and all of my problems vanish.”
“You want to lead an honest life, then?”
At first, Bernadetta laughed at the mere notion. But as the words settled in her head, the mirth died, leaving a pensive expression. “Perhaps not a farmstead, with sheep, goats, and cows, but… something of that sort… I think it wouldn’t be too bad. In truth, I’ve never had the time to find my hobbies.”
Isabella walked forward, leaving Valerio’s protection. Bernadetta watched her walk closely, unmoving. Then, Isabella grabbed Bernadett’s wrist and pulled her off the railing.
“Get down from there. You could fall,” Isabella said. “And stay in your cabin. It’s cold out here.”
There was neither warmth to the words nor any expression of gratitude. Nevertheless, Bernadetta complied, heading back into her cabin. Once Bernadetta was gone, she joined Valerio once more.
“We should return as quickly as possible. If what she said is true… then everything has become considerably less complicated.” Isabella took a deep breath and exhaled. The weight on her shoulders felt as though it was vanishing as the air left her.
Valerio looked skeptical. “You believe her?”
“She was smiling how I feel,” Isabella remarked, eyes distant as she recalled it. “But only time will tell.”
***
Regardless of whether or not the scheme that Bernadetta mentioned had come to fruition, the fact remained that Edgar was dead. With that specter no longer hanging over the continent—indeed, the world—Isabella could already return to the north with lighter steps than she had left it with. She had taken that tiresome voyage for months, and now… now, it was finally over.
Isabella walked proudly into the Balat Palace, where Felix, Allison, and Abigail awaited her. She said only a few simple words without delay.
“King Edgar of Dovhain is dead.” Isabella looked between them. “We have to decide what happens next.”