She rested the tool on the page over the scale marker, reducing the width to match. She began to chart out her course. No map was perfect… but Vi needed to know about how long this trip might take, so she could formulate an appropriate story to secure permission to go on it. That particular logistical nightmare was one she’d reckon with in short order.
Pulling out a spare sheet of paper and a pen, Vi began to jot down notes on distance, time, and terrain. She couldn’t have been working too long, because there wasn’t that much to do, but a knock on her door frame jostled her from her thoughts.
“Ellene, hello, what…” Vi tried to shuffle the paper without looking suspicious, which was utterly futile and only succeeded in smearing ink across her hand. “What’re you doing here?”
“I need to talk to you, Vi,” she said gently. Tears were still streaming down her cheeks.
Vi looked down at her maps, then back to her friend. She’d promised Ellene she’d try to be present in their final weeks together. But this was an apex of fate! Their world depended on Vi’s “distraction” more than Ellene understood.
“Give me ten—twenty more minutes and then you’ll have my undivided attention.”
“Vi… you, you really should talk to me now. I want to… I’m trying to help, as your friend.”
“I’ll be done in just a moment, I promise.” Vi forced a smile. “If you tell me now, I’m just going to be distracted with my maps anyway. Wait a just a minute or two and—”
“This is more important,” Ellene insisted.
Vi bit back a sigh and looked to the girl again, ready with a retort. She hadn’t known what she was going to say next, but whatever dismissal she’d have attempted died on her lips. Ellene stood with her hands knotted in her shirt, balled so tightly they were trembling. Her eyes continued to overflow with tears, spilling onto an expression of absolute torture.
“Is it Darrus?” she asked softly. There was no way he’d contracted the disease that fast. Even knowing nothing about the White Death, Vi knew that was impossible.
Ellene shook her head. “I—I wanted to tell you, but I…” Ellene sniffled loudly. She looked off to the right, just beyond the door frame. “I can’t,” she whispered weakly. “I’m sorry, I tried. I thought I could.”
In stepped Jax.
“What’s going on?” The weight of the situation was finally beginning to catch up with her. The whole atmosphere had gone heavy. Ellene continued to hang in limbo and her uncle’s expression had darkened further from the last time she’d seen it. “What is this?”
Vi closed her maps, slowly sliding the paper she was working on into one of her drawers. They were acting like she was about to bolt, or do something uncharacteristic, like attack them.
“I—” Jax’s words choked in his throat, escaping as a croak. He swallowed hard and Vi watched the knot in his neck bob once, twice, three times. “There were messengers from the West. They arrived this morning, right as the festivities were beginning. That’s why it took so long for their missive to get here. We weren’t in the fortress, so it took time, then with another outbreak, things were chaotic…”
“Is everything all right with Aunt Elecia?” Vi asked hastily. Messengers from the West, her uncle’s state—that was the only thing Vi could think of that would have him so distraught. Elecia and Jax had never been anything official, yet everyone with eyes knew there was more than a little bit of something there. Since Norin, the city Elecia ruled, was the first city outside the South with the White Death… “Is she sick?”
“No.”
“Oh, thank the Mother.” Vi gave a huge sigh of relief. “Then what is it?”
The relief she felt quickly abandoned her. Her uncle’s face twisted further. She could almost feel the tension in his muscles, as though he was forcibly trying to hold himself together.
“Uncle… if it’s a message… I can read it myself,” Vi offered in the hopes that would alleviate some of his struggle. Still, Jax persisted with another shake of his head. “Then I could—”
“Your father is dead.”
What?
She hadn’t heard him right.
Vi’s ears rang. There was a buzzing, like bees had begun to occupy them. She couldn’t hear anything correctly anymore. She certainly didn’t hear those four words said so plainly… so heartlessly… that her own heart fractured instantly, trying to break apart, to fill the void between each word with emotion.
“What?” It was barely a word. More of a blurt of sound that was half a laugh of disbelief and half the start of tears.
“We received word with the messengers.” He sniffled loudly. “Emperor Aldrik Solaris has perished at sea.”
“W-what?” Vi stuttered. That was the only word that would make sense, because nothing else did. The words her ears were telling her she heard, and the truth Vi felt within herself, were diametrically opposed.
Her father couldn’t be dead. He was coming with her family to finally,finallyretrieve her. He had promised he would be back from the Crescent Continent in time.He had promised.
“The Imperial Vessel, theDawn Strider, was to send back word when she docked at the Crescent Continent. Nothing was heard for some time… longer than it should have taken them to reach their destination.”
