Child of the Red Crystal

"How dare you speak so insolently to Her Majesty the Empress, claiming to be the Emperor's closest confidant. Of all people, saying such things to Her Majesty—no less!"

Upon returning to the bedchamber, the head maid fumed, pacing about in a righteous fury.

"It's quite all right. It happens."

Arisa remained composed, even having just been subjected to humiliating words from a servant of the Emperor—a man of far lower station than herself. Only her violet eyes had gone cold and still, like water left out on a winter night.

"Whatever can be ailing His Majesty, that he refuses to show his face at all?"

The head maid, still unable to settle down, kept bustling from one corner of the room to another as she spoke. Arisa sat motionless on the sofa, sunk deep in thought.

Since her last conversation with Daisy, she had seen neither hide nor hair of the woman—or of the Emperor. And now Matheus had vanished as well. Which could only mean that….

"Head maid."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Bring me some warm tea. Then leave me—I'd like to be alone. Go and rest."

"As you command, Your Majesty."

The head maid soon returned with the tea and withdrew. Arisa drank it slowly, waiting for the dead of night to descend. When at last the palace had gone silent, she slipped into the maidservant's dress she had hidden away, took her papers of identity, and, a cloak drawn up over her head, left the imperial palace without a soul the wiser.

She could not be certain whether the Emperor was genuinely ill, or whether he had followed the knight into the Forest of Illusions. But Arisa placed her wager on the latter—and if so, now was the moment.

She made her way into the city of Sayron and knocked on the door of a house tucked away in a secluded alley. Sayron's famed night markets kept the streets bright and crowded until the small hours, so avoiding watchful eyes had demanded every ounce of care she possessed.

Before long, the door swung open, and a sword-bearing soldier seized Arisa roughly by the arm and hauled her inside. It was an ordinary-looking townhouse—except that standing within it were Michael Amesis and his son, Arisa's own brother, Pedro Amesis.

"F-Father."

Shedding her cloak, Arisa stammered in shock.

"You've lost your mind, you wretch."

Michael Amesis glared at her and spat out the abuse.

"How did you find this place…?"

"Did you think I wouldn't know you were still sneaking off to meet that man? Found a little house in a backwater like this and hid him away, thinking you'd slip my notice for the rest of your days?"

"Did you imagine I've been rotting away in the palace archives doing nothing? I was posted there to keep an eye on you, as it happens. You slink out every night like a rat, and I thought that suspicious—so I had you followed."

Pedro Amesis said it all with a wide, gloating grin. Arisa glared at him as though she would kill him on the spot, but this was not the moment to bare her teeth. He was dangerous. She dropped to her knees at once.

"I have committed a sin worthy of death. I will never set foot here again—so please, I beg you, forgive me."

"Shouldn't I drag you down to ruin along with your whole family, just to satisfy myself?"

At Michael Amesis's flick of the hand, one of his men went into the next room and dragged out a figure. He was a strikingly handsome man, enormous in build, with black hair and blue eyes.

His name was Logan Lamb. Born heir to a fallen house stripped even of its title, he was nonetheless a man of such surpassing learning that Michael Amesis had brought him to his estate and set him as Arisa's tutor. What neither of them could ever have foreseen was that the two would fall in love.

Arisa had lost her heart to Logan, gentle and kind as he was, but Michael Amesis would never have sanctioned a match between them. And so, before her political marriage to the Emperor could be arranged, she had tried to flee with Logan and failed; in exchange for sparing his life, she had wed the Emperor.

Yet unable to forget her old love, Arisa had smuggled Logan to Sayron in secret, secured him a house, and continued to meet him behind everyone's backs.

"Is that child truly the Emperor's?"

To Michael Amesis's furious question, Arisa could make no answer. The truth was, she had never once done anything with the Emperor that might produce a child.

"You mad woman."

Michael Amesis's palm cracked across her cheek with a sound like a whip. Arisa sprawled sideways, and Logan Lamb flinched violently toward her—but with two men pinning his arms at either side, bound fast, there was nothing he could do.

"That child must be the Emperor's."

"And so I will raise it as such."

Arisa answered, spitting the words at Michael Amesis with eyes full of venom. "Let him go. He means nothing to you. Isn't selling me off to that man alone enough for you?"

"Nothing? The moment your child is born, he becomes the greatest threat to my house that could exist."

"I am getting along well with the Emperor, so you needn't fear the family dying out. I will manage it somehow, I swear—Aaagh!"

But before Arisa could finish, Michael Amesis tore the sword from his man's belt and cut Logan's throat. It happened in the space of a single breath.

Logan's hot blood sprayed across Arisa's body. Then he crumpled to the floor and did not rise again.

"Aaagh!!!"

With a scream that felt as though her very intestines were being torn out, Arisa gathered Logan into her arms. But his breath had already fled him.

"A root of evil should have been torn out long ago."

As Michael Amesis's cruel voice washed over her, Arisa slipped into unconsciousness where she knelt.

Seven days, Daisy thought—surely seven days had already slipped past, though she no longer had even the strength to open her eyes. And yet, since she was still in the forest, that must mean they had not passed at all.

Or perhaps she had already died, and simply didn't know it yet.

Perhaps the true task was to count the seven days carefully, and then walk out of the forest under her own power. But she had not yet reached the end of this road, and though the demonic beasts were dwindling, they still lunged out at her now and again.

Or maybe this peaceful forest path simply had no end at all, and she was circling the same ground, over and over, like a fly trapped beneath glass.

Sword and feet dragging, Daisy kept walking on pure momentum alone. It was a miracle she was still alive at all—days without food, without sleep. She had no strength left; her whole body was a lattice of wounds, and she had bled so much that her face had gone bone-white. She could barely make out the path ahead of her anymore.

And yet. Why was it that she could not simply lie down and die like this?

She swung her sword, thought, and thought again—but no answer came.

The moment she thought she might die of thirst, as though by magic the trees ended and blue sky opened above her. At the heart of the forest lay a vast lake, ringed by no trees at all, so that the heavens showed themselves whole. It was so impossibly clear that its depth could not be fathomed, a perfect mirror of the bright blue sky above—and all around its shores, daisies bloomed in endless drifts. The sweet scent of the flowers came drifting over, tickling the tip of her nose.

Daisy stumbled to the water's edge and scooped it up in shaking hands, drinking greedily. The clear water tasted cool and sweet.

Ah. I've already died, haven't I? This is heaven.

So thinking, she sank down among the flowers, drunk on their fragrance, and gazed up at the sky. All her life she had hated her own overly feminine name—but now, she loved it. If this was heaven, then heaven was a truly lovely place.

A cool breeze stirred gently past, and there was not a trace of the smell of blood anywhere. Her dizzy, whirling mind settled into stillness. If she had known this kind of peace was waiting here, she would have entered the forest long ago.

The moment she closed her eyes, thinking that from here on, whatever became of her no longer mattered, a deep voice sounded from somewhere she could not place.

"Knight of the Empire."

At the sound, Daisy's eyes flew open. The voice seemed to fall from the sky itself, and yet to echo up from somewhere deep beneath the earth all at once.

"Knight of Lowes. Will you make an end of things here?"

The voice spoke once more. Daisy pushed herself upright and looked around, searching for its source.

"If you have come this far, then I shall grant you a proper ending."

The voice again. Instead of straining after the sound, Daisy swept her gaze across her surroundings—and saw it. Across the surface of the clear, still lake, ripples were moving.

The voice was coming from the water. There was no doubt of it.

"If I'm not to end things here—does that mean there's another way?"

Daisy forced the words out with the last of her strength, shouting across the water. No answer came.

If there's no answer, then I'll find it myself. Why was it that she could not die, in the very place she had come to die?

Daisy let her sword fall and walked slowly toward the lake's edge. The faint ripples had already stilled, and the water lay smooth as glass once more. Beyond the reflected sky, she could see down into the depths.

She could not tell at all whether the bottom lay barely deeper than her own height—or so far down that it had no bottom to speak of. But Daisy did not hesitate. She plunged straight into the lake.

And then she understood. This lake was impossibly deep. The bottom that had seemed so close before her eyes never drew any nearer; sinking endlessly toward it felt like leaping up into the sky itself. Worse, the water was so bitterly cold that her whole body seemed to be freezing solid.

Daisy closed her eyes.

So this is what it meant—to make an end of things. She had thought she would die at the claws of a demonic beast. Instead, it seemed, she would drown in this lake.

As her consciousness drifted away from her, Daisy suddenly felt the water surging into a violent swirl around her, and forced her eyes open again. The lake before her lay calm as ever, yet all around her own body the water was churning, bubbling, spinning into a whirlpool.

She could not begin to make sense of it—and in the midst of her spinning mind, the voice came once more.

"You—you are the Child of the Red Crystal."

Unlike before, the voice sounded almost excited. The Child of the Red Crystal? She had never once heard the words in her life.

And in that same instant, the clear, limpid lake began to bleed red. Daisy's black eyes began to glow crimson as well.