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The grapes were about twice as big as regular ones, and in a shade of purple so dark it almost looked black in the dim light. Throné had seen these before, back when their group had first taken a stop at the black market on their way to Winterbloom. A new kind, the merchant had explained when they had noticed Ochette’s fascination, only recently cultivated, and more effective than regular grapes. I’m pretty sure these are poisonous, Castti had noted upon further inspection- and notably after Partitio had already bought a bunch. In the end, she had eaten most of the grapes herself, only declaring them safe for the group when she had figured out the full extent of its negative effects, and a concoction to combat them.
Shaking her head slowly, whether to emphasise her decision to no one but herself or to push away the memory she didn’t know, Throné turned away from the booth again. Poisonous or not, these grapes weren’t what she had come here for, and she didn’t exactly have the funds to waste on them.
Not that money was going to be the greatest of her problems. The market was busy enough, all aside from the fact that she’d had time to prepare for this a while in advance. Had it really been a concern, she could just have taken something from their group funds as well; it wouldn’t even have been stealing. Partitio had repeatedly offered her leaves for a better weapon, once before they had left Stormhail, and then another time when the weather had forced them to take a stop in Montwise.
Throné had rejected it both times, though. Her plan had already formed inside her mind at those points, and for some reason, using her fellow travelers’- her friends’- support for what she was going to do just felt wrong. No, this was something she had to pay for out of her own pocket. Or, well, a stranger’s pocket, but the sort of costumers at this market probably wouldn’t-
This time, it wasn’t herself who snapped her out of these thoughts, but a raspy voice coming from one of the booths. “What an unexpected sight these days.“ The merchant leaned on his table, the moonlight reflecting in the metal of his wares catching in his eyes, giving them an uncomfortable spark. His words had clearly been directed at her, but she didn’t respond; it wouldn’t lead to anything good in this setting, speaking from experience.
Experience the merchant clearly lacked, or perhaps he had found something he deemed too valuable to let go. Unfortunately, it seemed to be the latter. “You’re a Blacksnake,“ he noted, as though this observation carried some sort of grand implication or anything of the likes. When Throné didn’t react, he continued, a trace of a sneer echoing in his tone of voice. “Aren’t you feeling unsafe so far away from home?“
Throné glanced up at him. It was a warning more than anything else, but he seemed too pleased to have received a reaction at all to care, judging by the way his eyes lit up. “Aren’t you feeling unsafe talking so much?“ Although the words were heavy, bitter on her tongue, it didn’t reflect in her tone in the slightest. A survival skill that had become far less essential than it used to be since she had started her journey, but wouldn’t just disappear either.
The merchant, however, still didn’t appear to care in the slightest. “Just curious is all.“ He curled his lips into a strange grin. “Rumour has it you guys aren’t doing too good right now.“
Throné’s hand twitched before she could stop it, and the triumphant glister in the merchant’s eyes told her he noticed. It seemed his interest in this topic stemmed from more than mere curiosity after all. Not that it was a surprise to her; she had by far enough experience with people like him. Perhaps it would be smarter to humour him, gather some more information on how the Snakes were doing without their heads, but it wasn’t something she wanted to hear. Not right now, not yet.
She would see it with her own eyes soon enough.
More than anything to shut down another comment from the merchant that was surely about to come, Throné picked up one of the daggers on his table. “How much for this?“
“Twenty thousand leaves.“ His grin widened a little. “Or fifteen, if you’re willing to split the payment with something else.“
Of course. “I’ll take it,“ Throné replied coldly, only earning a quiet tch as the merchant took her money. It seemed he accepted his defeat though, at least he didn’t say anything else when Throné turned away, weighing the dagger in one hand. It was light, the silvery blade reflected the moonlight. A fine weapon, albeit probably not worth the price she paid; for a few seconds, she regretted not just looking for a better dagger in New Delsta, but pushed the thought away before it had time to take proper form. She needed to prepare for what was going to happen next as well as she could, and if that included buying an overpriced weapon from a nosy merchant at the black market, so be it.
Throné didn’t pause when she walked past the road leading north, the direction where their group had set up their camp for the night. Instead, she turned the other way without looking back, and only stopped walking when she was sure she was out of hearing range of anyone at the black market. “Alright.“ She didn’t turn around or raise her voice; she was fairly certain neither was necessary. “We’re far away enough. You can stop following me now.“
Just as expected, the quiet footsteps behind her stopped, replaced by a familiar-sounding hum that would have given Throné the last confirmation of her pursuer’s identity, hadn’t all the small mannerisms in his movements given him away already. After traveling together for so long, Throné was rather sure that even a person not trained in this sort of thing would have picked up on that, and her companion’s amused comment confirmed her suspicion. “My, I expected no less from my assistant.“
“Why are you here?“ Throné didn’t humour his teasing, not even turning around to him. She could feel his look on her anyway, and something told her that there was no way back once she returned it. Back from what, she didn’t know, but if the way his gaze prickled on her skin was anything to go by, she would rather not find out.
She heard him shift behind her, the amusement slowly fading from his voice as he spoke up again. “I believe that’s my line.“
“Fine.“ With a sigh, Throné turned around; her attempt at mirroring his tone failed, and her voice sounded strangely hollow to her own ears. “Sneaking around in such shady places isn’t going to end well for you at some point, detective.“
Temenos straightened up a little. His smile echoed in his voice when he spoke, although it didn’t quite seem to reach his eyes. “Which is why I was waiting for you to lead us to somewhere a little more private, and it seems my suspicion was correct.“ Something about his tone shifted at those last words, as though he was getting at something else, and combined with the dim shine in his eyes, it didn’t help ease Throné’s mind.
“If that’s all you wanted, here you go.“ Despite her best efforts to speak in a casual-defeated tone, she couldn’t quite cover up the strain in her voice as well as she would have liked. Because Temenos would pick up on it, of course, and would definitely take advantage of it.
Sure enough, the look in his eyes didn’t soften as he clicked his tongue, slowly shaking his head. “Come on now, my dear assistant, we both know that isn’t the reason why either of us is here.“ Something about the way he said this made Throné’s stomach twist. His voice carried a tone she couldn’t quite grasp, just uncharacteristic enough for her mind to catch it.
A few seconds passed in silence, as though Temenos was waiting for her to acknowledge the tacit message in his words. When he spoke up again, the casual tone was wiped from his voice completely, only leaving behind the bare meaning, hard and cold as stone. “You’re leaving.“ He didn’t even bother trying to pretend it was a question. They both knew it wasn’t, anyway.
And yet, there was something inside Throné that froze up upon hearing it spelled out. The impulse that had first formed outside the abandoned church in Montwise, holding the keys in hands drenched in her parents’ blood, figuratively and literally, the collar feeling tighter than ever on her neck. The idea that had formed on the way to Stormhail, growing more present with each sleepless night, and increasingly harder to ignore. The plan that had formed during the days after their arrival there, while waiting for Hikari and Partitio to return from the castle, and seeing the empty look in Temenos’ eyes until she couldn’t bear it anymore.
She had made up her mind, and yet she somehow never expected to ever hear these words, in all their gravity, out loud.
By the gods, it wasn’t a decision she had made lightly. She had tried to push the feeling away, but every step she took alongside her traveling companions suddenly felt like going in the wrong direction. They all had their own paths to complete, and it had never bothered Throné; if anything, it had felt nice to accompany them, to distract herself from her own goals and help the others, knowing they were going to do the same for her. But since she had acquired the keys that had been supposed to unlock her collar, the point where her journey should have been over, the comfort of walking side by side had vanished. All left behind was the sinking thought that she wasn’t supposed to be here, and the feeling of her collar tightening around her neck until she couldn’t breathe.
A trapped animal would chew off its leg to escape, and there was a part of her that’d rather slice her own throat than remain carrying this collar any longer.
A thousand implications and twice as many thoughts lingered between them for a moment, all of Throné’s mind reflecting in Temenos’ sharp gaze. She didn’t hold it for longer than a few seconds.
Throné sighed, feeling her shoulders stiffen. “Alright, you caught me in the act.“ She looked up again; whether it was just her imagination she didn’t know, but something about Temenos’ expression hardened, and there was a trace of a shadow dulling the look in his eyes. “Are you going to coerce me into telling you the whole story now?“ He’d lose, and she knew they both were aware of that. Then again, that also applied to the fact that he would try nonetheless, if he felt it was needed.
Temenos shifted, crossing his arms. The moonlight reflected in his eyes, making them shine almost like a cat’s. “I hardly think that will be necessary.“ He paused for a moment; there was something about his gaze that made Throné’s heart twist, a silent message hanging in the air like the smoke back at the New Delstan casino.
If Temenos was aware of it- and frankly, Throné would be surprised if he wasn’t- he didn’t show it. Instead he allowed it to linger for a few seconds, before lowering his head a little. The look in his eyes didn’t soften one bit. “I’m merely here because I wonder what you’re planning exactly, and to ask you to reconsider.“
“I’m going to stay in New Delsta.“ For some reason, the words came past her lips a lot easier than Throné had expected. As though she was just volunteering to stand guard for the night, or something likewise mundane; not spelling out a decision she had never thought she’d make since she had first left this damned town with two strangers by her side, brought together by nothing but the idea to travel together. A decision that would cut those invisible strings that had formed into such a strong bond over time. “I can’t ask any of you to stay with me, but I- this can’t wait.“
Temenos tilted his head, eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze remaining on her. “Can it not,“ he repeated simply, voice so quiet his words were almost drowned out by the wind around them.
Throné bit her tongue. The dull pain didn’t reach her mind before the metallic taste did. “I can’t stop now that I’ve gotten so far.“ She reached up for her collar, fidgeting with the pendant. It felt smooth and cool under her fingers, and not one bit comforting. “It was supposed to be over by now. Father- my father told me what to do, and I need to know.“ To find the true key to her collar. The founder of the Blacksnakes. Her father. “You were there, Temenos. You heard him back then.“ She pursed her lips shut; the crack of her voice at her last words had already given away too much of the things stirring inside her chest.
“Indeed I was,“ Temenos replied, tone of voice so neutral it almost sounded cold, and it definitely didn’t help loosen the icy thorns around her heart. Or perhaps it was the way he fully ignored the last sentence, when Throné knew he was well aware that it had been her whole point. “Which is the reason why I would trust you not to presume such a dangerous endeavour all by yourself.“
“Ah, well.“ Throné sighed deeply, although the weight in her chest only seemed to grow a little heavier with it. Her tone sounded just a trace too defeated for her to feel bad about her words. “I’m sorry for destroying your perfect little balance of this group, then.“
An emotion flashed on Temenos’ face, gone in the blink of an eye, just long enough that Throné could be sure it had been there. Frankly, she didn’t need to read it, though; the fact that it was there told her enough about the situation. Talkative as he was, seeing through Temenos was close to an impossible task, which he proceeded to prove when he replied, his tone wiped of every last trace of the anger that had reflected in his eyes just a second before. “It’s not me you should be apologising to.“
With all her training in suppressing these involuntary reactions, Throné felt her shoulders stiffen. For Aeber’s sake, she should have seen this coming; don’t just attack a stronger opponent from the front, this had been one of the first lessons Father had taught her, and she should have known better than to pick a verbal fight with Temenos Mistral of all people. Especially when she had just taken the conversation in the exact direction he had been going for, if she interpreted the look on his face correctly.
She knew he picked up on it; even if it hadn’t been for the knowing shine in his eyes, Throné was well aware Temenos was far too perceptive to miss such an obvious sign. Being Temenos, however, he naturally pretended he didn’t, tapping his chin as though he had to think about his arguments when he started to talk. “I believe we still have a mystery to solve, and I would hate to do so without my dear assistant,“ he listed, tone of voice so casual, so frustratingly innocent. Feigning unawareness, when they both knew better.
“Ochette really seems to enjoy hunting with you in particular, I’m certain the others wouldn’t want to miss out on your catches. Even Akalā warmed up with you like no other, did he not?“ Each word drove the imaginary thorns deeper into Throné’s chest and she gritted her teeth. Because he was right, and that was the worst part. She really hadn’t expected it, but she’d had great fun on their hunting trips, and she could tell that so did Ochette. Then again, the Beastling worked well with about everyone, whether they were part of their group or not; much unlike Akalā, as Ochette had mentioned and the lājackal had shown often enough, and yet he had always allowed her to pet him.
“Not that this is all.“ A weak hum echoed in Temenos’ words, only supporting his sweet tone that was starting to make her want to stab him. He possessed an extraordinary talent in that, Throné just hadn’t found herself on the receiving end of it too often. Not a pleasant experience, all in all. “Wouldn’t you say Osvald is in need of your support now more than ever? I’m not certain he would ever talk again without you.“ That, in turn, was a lie, and a really poor one at that; Throné wasn’t as close to Osvald as Partitio or Agnea were, but for some reason, her tongue refused to say this out loud.
As though he noticed, Temenos shifted, the moonlight flashing in his eyes in the motion. “Our dear Castti doesn’t appear to be doing so well either.“ That was all he said, but it was enough to make something inside Throné’s chest twist painfully. Castti… perhaps it was just all the time they spent together, but the apothecary seemed to be the only one of her companions plagued by a similar restlessness as her. They were nearing her next destination, that village where the friend of hers Throné had never met herself said she would meet her, and with each passing day, the unease Castti said she couldn’t even explain grew more intense. Just being close to the area itself seemed to put her on the edge, and Throné couldn’t say this was a feeling unfamiliar to her.
“And even so,“ Temenos continued in the same casual tone of voice, spreading his arms as though this had just come to his mind, “what about our own paths? I don’t believe it’s fair to us or yourself to undersell your value as our ally like this, Throné.“ His words shot another sting through her chest and Throné stiffened; precisely the worst thing to do, and of course Temenos acknowledged her admission of the effectiveness of this approach. “It’s a shame to see how short-lived your safety concerns regarding Partitio’s nature turned out to be. I always thought you two made a fine team.“ He raised his shoulders, and combined with this nonchalant tone, it only made his words cut deeper. “Think of poor Hikari. After the events in Stormhail, do you believe it’s right for yet another friend to betray him?“ At least this time, he had the mercy to continue before the bitter sickness on Throné’s tongue could spill out, although it didn’t help ease the weight in her chest one bit. “Agnea mentioned she is excited for us seeing her performance in Merry Hills as well, and I daresay she didn’t exclude you from this statement.“ Temenos shook his head. “Really, what would any of them think if they found you gone without so much as a farewell?“
Throné attempted a shrug, but her shoulders got stuck in the motion, simply stiffening uncomfortably. Then again, the greatest part of her knew it wouldn’t have fooled him either way, and somehow, this certainty echoed in her words as well. “I’ll catch up to you.“ Her voice sounded hollow, an eternity away.
Naturally, Temenos seemed to pick up on it, or perhaps he didn’t even need to. Perhaps he had known from the start, perhaps it had been his reason for starting this conversation in the first place; Throné certainly deemed him capable of it. The keen shine in his eyes as he spoke supported the idea, too. “Will you?“
The question lingered back in the silence that followed. The question, along with the unspoken answer, the implicit message they were both aware of, lurking in the half-shadow as though it only waited for its turn to be called out.
Throné bit her tongue. Whether this had been Temenos’ goal from the start or not, it wasn’t right, and she wasn’t going to pretend otherwise. “No offense, detective, but I think I know what I’m doing.“ She had attempted to make her tone sound light, casual, amused even, but the words tasted far too bitter on her tongue. Perhaps there was a part inside her that didn’t truly believe in them, and an even greater part that didn’t care anymore. She would finally rid herself of this collar like she already should have done, or die trying; and either option was better than things remaining as they were now.
Which appeared to be the wrong answer.
For the first time that night, the shine in Temenos’ eyes dulled. He lowered his head, the shadows of the night obscuring his expression for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was almost too quiet for Throné to hear, hadn’t it been for the lack of any other noise around them. “Is that so.“ Then, without a warning, he took a step toward her and stood up a little straighter, raising his staff. He didn’t say any more, but the way his gaze hardened as his whole body seemed to tense spoke louder than words possibly could have.
The complete shift in his demeanour came so sudden it caught Throné off guard for a split heartbeat, perhaps for the first time since she had known him. Her hand twitched in the direction of her dagger more out of instinct rather than the genuine will to fight, and a dim flash in Temenos’ eyes told her that he was aware she was holding back. “I thought you weren’t here to fight.“ Her voice sounded a lot more clear and steady than she felt.
“I hoped it wouldn’t come to this, yes,“ Temenos replied, ever so calmly, but there was something about his tone that sounded off, so subtly Throné was sure she wouldn’t have noticed hadn’t she witnessed more of the inquisitor’s interrogations than she could count. He spoke just a little bit too slowly, too quietly, his tone a little bit too collected for it to sound natural. “My apologies, but I cannot allow this to go on.“
Throné took half a step backwards, a split second of considering her options, before letting her right hand loosely drop down to her side. “I don’t want to fight.“ She’d had enough of it; she wouldn’t proceed the last step of her journey like this. Not after everything that had happened.
“That makes two of us.“ Temenos’ tone didn’t shift one bit, but now, he spoke a little too fast to cover up the strain in his voice, just present enough to be sure Throné wasn’t imagining it, hadn’t it been so uncharacteristic of him. “But if my words don’t suffice, I’m afraid I have no choice but to take more drastic measures.“
“You have the choice to step back.“ Her voice sounded monotone, an eternity away, as though it wasn’t even herself speaking anymore. As though she was a mere observer in the matter, unaffected by the situation or the look in her companion’s eyes.
“I refuse.“
Throné had heard that tone in her life so often, had long learned that it was best to suppress any reaction to it, and yet, the bite in that single word was intense enough to make her wince. Temenos’ voice hadn’t been loud, but cold as ice, and sharp enough to cut the air between them.
On any other person that knew him, this would have worked without a doubt. It would have made Throné feel bad for it, probably, if there hadn’t been something about his tone that twisted some mechanism inside her around. A memory too blurry to grasp, and all it left behind was a stinging burn inside her chest. “I’m not asking you,“ she hissed; oh, she hated that tone so much, but even so, she could barely even hear her own voice through the blood rushing in her ears. “This isn’t your decision, or your business.“
“Then I’m making it mine,“ Temenos replied before she had even finished, still speaking in the same tone of voice as before. His eyes were narrowed, flashing in the moonlight with something Throné couldn’t pin down. “You may insist on repeating past mistakes, but I’m not going down that path.“
Throné took a step backwards. “What are you talking about?“ Somewhere in the back of her mind, she noticed that her voice didn’t sound quite as sharp as before, perhaps because the greatest part of that question was genuine. It was as though something fundamental about the whole situation had changed while she had missed the turn, the message left unspoken in everything he said.
“I’m not letting this happen.“ There he paused, just a split second too briefly to take a breath or allow Throné’s mind to catch up with the meaning of his words before he continued. “I will not watch another friend walk into their demise.“
He hadn’t spoken loudly, but even so, his voice seemed to echo back in the silence that followed.
As though everything around her had come to a halt suddenly, Throné only now became aware of her heart beating just a little bit too fast, the way her legs were shaking when she shifted her weight. The look on Temenos’ face, his expression not shadowed by anger like she had thought, but something else.
She swallowed. “I already told you.“ Her voice sounded almost calm now that the bite from before had vanished, but somehow, she still couldn’t stop it from trembling, just enough to notice. “I’m not planning on dying.“
“I don’t care.“ Temenos spat out these words in a tone Throné hadn’t even known he was capable of. He didn’t look at her anymore, but combined with his knuckles whitening as he gripped the Staff of Judgement, this told her more than the expression on his face possibly could have. “No one ever is. Roi wasn’t. Crick wasn’t.“ His voice faded away when he turned back to her. “And I’m not going to allow you to.“ There was an odd glint in his eyes, and only now it hit Throné that perhaps they weren’t narrowed out of anger, not exclusively, at least.
And then, as though there was a part of him that had only just caught up with the situation, the tension in his body dropped. His shoulders slumped down as he lowered his head again, shaking it slowly. “Oh my, would you look at that.“ His tone of voice was suddenly back to normal as well, all the emotions from before wiped from it, the only remains of it being a small tremble that wouldn’t even have been noteworthy coming from anyone else. He buried his face in his free hand for a second; when he looked up again, the glint in his eyes was gone, faded into a dull shine.
Throné opened her mouth, but at that point, she wasn’t sure there was anything she could say. The echo of Temenos’ words wouldn’t grow quieter inside her head, his tone carrying an admission he had refused to make since… since Throné had met him, really, the walls collapsing for just a moment, leaving her with no room to move. Not knowing what to say, or do.
Which seemed to be in Temenos’ favour, judging by what he did next. “My point stands.“ He straightened up again, although Throné picked up on the way he raised his head a little higher than normal, and his grip at his staff didn’t loosen. The smile from earlier was back on his lips, but even so it looked a little bit strained, if she payed close attention to it. To his credit, however, none of this reflected in his voice; it had returned to its perfectly calm albeit serious tone, lacking any hint at what it had sounded like just seconds before. “If you insist on going, I will take the measures necessary to put an end to this.“
For a few seconds, Throné could do nothing but stand there. Stand and look in the clear yet determined eyes of the person she considered the closest she had to a best friend. Willing to fight for his cause if necessary, no matter the outcome.
Throné had been at that point before, on the balcony of Diamante’s estate, standing in the rain that wouldn’t wash her oldest friend’s blood off of her hands. Caught in the chokehold of their parents, forced into a situation where one of them had to give up their goals, their dreams, their hopes for the sake of the other’s. Where she had taken the life of the man who had been like a brother to her for longer than she could remember, so she could live, and reach out for the thing she wished for.
You may insist on repeating past mistakes, Temenos’ voice echoed back inside her mind, and only now, Throné had the feeling she understood what he had been referring to.
This dull pain, accompanied by a spark of guilt and hope alike, and an echo of a promise made to a person long gone, led her back to the present. To the barely visible shift in Temenos’ expression, a hint of concern she knew she wouldn’t even have noticed, hadn’t it been for the events leading up to this.
Throné huffed, but even to her own ears, it sounded defeated more than anything. “That look doesn’t suit you, detective.“
“You wound me, Throné.“ Despite his words, his smile softened a little, although the shine in his eyes remained.
For a few seconds, Throné allowed the silence to echo back inside her head, before asking the question left in her mind. “What now?“ She didn’t spell it out; the silent admission, all the fragments left unspoken.
Judging by Temenos’ reaction, she didn’t need to, either. His shoulders dropped a little as he shifted his weight, giving her a nod that resonated with the faint tone of approval in his voice. “I suggest we go back to camp first,“ he said. “We will figure out how to proceed there. Frankly,“ a spark of amusement flashed in his eyes, “I’m disappointed my assistant wouldn’t trust my ability to find a better solution than this.“
Throné gave him a weak chuckle, and for some reason, it sounded more genuine than any of her words that night, to her own ears. “I’ll make it up to you.“
Temenos responded with a hum, a small nod. “I know you will.“ He turned around, pointing his staff ahead. “Shall we go back home?“
Home. That word lingered back in the air in a silent echo, along with all the implications it carried. Such a simple term, and yet Throné didn’t need to see the expression on Temenos’ face to know he was aware of all the emotions and memories it held. Memories starting from when they had first met, and this cleric had willingly jumped into a fight to protect Puck, all up to the meal they had shared that evening. The sound of the campfire filling up the cool air, accompanied by the cheerful voices of Partitio and Ochette talking about different ways to prepare meat, and an occasional soft growl from Akalā lying by their feet. Osvald handing his dessert over to Throné to return to reading, but still seemed to be paying more attention to the others around him than his book. Hikari humming a melody she had never heard before meeting him, and yet had grown so familiar with; Agnea next to him swaying her head to the tune. Castti sliding a little closer to her as the sun proceeded to set, and Throné taking her trembling hand in her own, knowing she couldn’t do a lot more than offering her presence, and that perhaps this was enough. Temenos on a log in the back. Sitting quietly, observing, but despite everything with a faint smile on his lips.
No, she didn’t need to see the expression on his face to know he didn’t use that word lightly.
And in that case, Throné decided as she turned to follow him, she wouldn’t either. “Alright.“