Mare

And at the end of it, all only one question remains. Was it worth it?

Chapter Music: A Final Sacrifice

When my eyes break away from his bleeding stare, I look for an exit. If he's come to speak with me he'll follow me out. If not, then I'll only be gone for a few minutes and I'll be back before anyone notices my absence. Hopefully.

When I find an exiting corridor, I turn down it. It's quiet and calm, a stark contrast to the roaring ball behind me. Faint lights glow as I walk down it, a few paintings hang on the walls. King Tiberias Calore the Fifth pictured with Queen Anabel Lerolan and Sworn Royal Consort Crown Prince Robert Iral, one reads.

The three were dressed in full regalia and, despite the grey streaks in their hair, not a single wrinkle lines their faces. I had heard whispers of their reign. It was said to be the most prosperous in the history of Norta. For the silvers anyways. Tiberias preferred men. Anabel didn't mind once an heir came along. I remember once being told that she and Robert were close friends.

The sound of soft footsteps behind me urges me forward. So he does want to talk. I suppress a smirk. Knowing what people want from me has been a skill well learned in the past weeks.

I turn away from the painting, looking for another hallway to turn into. There were none, but the end of the hall opened to a large room. I took down the hall, ignoring the rest of the paintings of dead and forgotten monarchs. When I entered the room, it's heavily furnished with long drapes of fabric and paintings that are so faded the faces have been forgotten by time. The only light in the room is a fireplace and it seems to beckon me towards it. I walked towards it, folding my arms across my bare arms as I come to a stop.

My form casts a long shadow over the room as I stand in front of the fireplace. My fingers move in a circular motion on my temple, trying to massage away the convulsions in my head. The combination of wine and noise from the party brings my head to an aching state that only seems to get worse as the hours drone on.

The stillness in the room is deadly, nothing but the crackle of the fire to remind me that I am awake and not in a daze of some sort. Shadows cast their way over the floor, leaving the room drained of color. One of the shadows twitch every few minutes or so.

I let him watch me as I stare at the flames dancing over the logs. Staring at the fire has a way of dragging me back through the memories of the burner princes. One that comes to mind is the day I fell, quite literally, into this mess- and the aftermath of it.

Evangeline Samos had been in the arena. She was the most expected to win Queenstrial, a competition where the most powerful noblewomen, who was of age to marry, would compete with their ability to be matched with the heir to the throne. But at that time, there were two young, eligible men for the women to gain. So although Evangeline would undoubtedly get Cal, Maven was still to be won. That is until Evangeline pulled the terrace a little too far with her magneton ability and a red servant fell into view. When I came into contact with the electric shield designed to keep the girls abilities away from the crowd, I did not die. Suddenly, I was something of importance.

Cal had come into my new rooms only a day later, stricken with guilt. He wasn't supposed to be in my rooms, but Cal will be Cal. He apologized for taking my life away, and I wish I could go back and be a little less forgiving as I was then.

An exhale of breath from the shadows pull me away from the bittersweet memory.

"Are you going to come out of your corner, Jon?"

I hear the hissing of laughter as he slides out of the shadows, as dark and omniscient as ever. "Mare Barrow, still the little slimeball I met all those months ago. How much has changed since then." His arms reach out, gesturing to the room we are in. A very different scene from when we first met in the burnt remains of a city.

"Yes, time has not been kind to you." His skin has gone a sickly shade of white, and grey hair lays in patches on his scalp. His eyes seemed to have gone two shades too dark. The blow doesn't quite land even if it rings with truth. Then again, he's a seer. I could say anything to him and it wouldn't surprise him. He's already seen it happen.

"Why are you here?" I ask, trying to force the emotion out of my voice like I have seen Maven do countless times before.

"I came to warn you," He says with a slouched stance. He's tired, but not the kind you can fix by sleeping.

"Last time I listened to a warning from you, it got my brother killed."

"What great thing has ever been accomplished without sacrifice?"

"Enough," I snip, squeezing my eyes shut. "My brother was not yours to sacrifice."

"Even if his death freed Julian and saved your life? Saved the Scarlet Guard from destruction?" My eyes snap open, sharp breaths slide in between my bared teeth.

"His death didn't free Julian, I did." That night at Corros prison, it was pouring. We were running breathlessly to the jet, helplessly skidding over the snot-slicked pavement. Behind us, guards ran after us. They had caught up and struck us with their abilities. Some were Greenwardens—even a few Storms. Most were Magnetrons.

Shade was teleporting everyone to the jet, hoping to earn us a few extra seconds to get in the air. I was the last one still out on the landing strip. Ptolemus outran me, effortlessly trying to bring an iron rod down towards my heart. Shade got to me first, hand outstretched ready to jump me to the jet.

He'd never get the chance.

The last time I saw my brother, a sleek, shiny piece of metal protruded out of his chest. Slicing his heart in two.

Jon looks at me with a sad kind of smile, "Without his death, that metal would have gone straight through you instead. Julian and Cal, not yet in the pilot's cockpit, would have run off of the jet when they saw you fall. Both would have perished. Without a pilot, everyone on that jet would have died with you."

I shrug dismissively. "So you save me from death, but let me fall into the hands of Maven days later. How is that fair?"

"Mare Barrow, you had a choice in that matter: save your rebellion or die. Fortunately, you chose the former," he says with a voice that crackles like a beetle crawling across the forest floor, unsettling the earth.

"Don't try justifying what happened. You knew exactly what was awaiting me. You lined me up for it. You knew what my choice was before I even knew I had to make one."

"Like I said, sacrifices had to be made."

"And have I finally sacrificed enough?"

"Not yet."

I feel my face fall. Somewhere inside me I knew I wasn't done yet, but I was tired. So very tired.

"There is nothing I have left to lose."

"There is always something left to lose, Mare." His eyes search mine, as if he is trying to fill me in on a joke I don't understand yet. "You have so much left to do, to give."

I close my eyes tightly and I am in an abyss of darkness. There are no stars. I am shattered. Unworthy, unwanted.

Adrift.

"And when does it stop?" My voice is low, barely above a whisper. What if I can't bear the answer?

He opens his mouth, then closes it. He takes a few moments to respond, barely meeting my eyes. "When the world is a good one again."

"And what type of a world is that?" I frown, puzzled.

"That is for you to find out."

I laugh bitterly at him and his riddles, splitting the stillness of the room in two. Jon dons a smirk; he has always drawn amusement by my lack of knowledge.

"You're going to tell me something, seer," I say as he sits carefully in a plush armchair by the fire. He doesn't object, just stares back at me with careful eyes. "How can I save them?" I didn't specify who exactly, mostly because Jon knows exactly who I'm talking about: all the people I left behind in the remains of that fateful plane crash, and all the ones I left before that. My family, my friends, him.

"That depends on your definition of saving, my dear."

"Tell me," I urge.

Jon stands from his chair, ignoring me, and in two strides he stands in front of me. At this distance, I can see bursts of tiny, red veins under his skin. One long, claw-like finger presses hard on the space between my grey eyes. One by one the visions come, fast and repulsing.

We're in the throne room, and a row of people stand before the throne. A shadow rises from it. One by one the people fall, their silver blood spilling across the floor.

Then a child. Crouched over a figure that could only be their mother. Silver blood runs out of her red lips.

A man, whose face is obscured in black curls and shadows. He walks towards another shadowed form. The two figures conjoin, and then a thud is heard. Cries ring out.

The square of Archeon, now turned into a battlefield. Red and silver blood drenching the stone path.

Jon peels his hand away from me, taking his visions with him. "What were those?"

"You and I both know I don't need to answer that question, Mare." I hate seers.

"Is that what the future will be? Nothing but death and pain?"

"Not all of it," He murmurs, "I don't show you those pieces of the future to haunt you. You have a way of handling pain. You don't falter under its weight, but instead, you wear it like armor so that the whole world can see it. You need these small promises from me to do what must be done."

"You make it sound like I'm the only hope for this damn world." I chuckle, trying to stop the trembling that has begun to stir my fingers.

"That's because you are." His voice is so small I nearly don't hear it.

I stare at him, analyzing his aging features. "May I see the visions you speak of? The ones where the world is good again?"

He grimaces as if he can't bear to hold back what I've seen him tiptoe around for the past few minutes. "I shouldn't, the weight of the truth is mine to bear alone, but I can offer you this," he says, "You will rise, Mare Barrow. With a spine of steel and a voice of thunder, you will rise."

"Mare?" A sharp, shrill voice cuts through the room. I turn sharply, feeling the hot prickle of nerves race under my skin.

"Julian." I breathe out a breath I didn't know I was holding. When I turn back to the corner where Jon was sitting, the seer is gone. Damn you.

"Mare, what are you doing here if Maven found you here without guards-"

For a moment, I wonder if I should tell Julian of Jon's words, but think better of it.

"I just lost my way." The lie comes out easily enough, and I know Julian isn't convinced. He doesn't press me, and I don't offer any further explanation. This secret will be mine alone.

"Luckily, I have you to bring me back." I walk to Julian, moving across the room in three short strides. A wide, fake smile lays still on my face. Shaking off any remnants of my previous conversation.

I all but drag him out of the room before he could investigate further, leaving the fire to die.