(Lyra)
I ran my index finger over my tattoo, for once comforted by the sensitive shivering sensation it caused; it appeared that it wasn't damaged, despite the excessive amount of cutting and grinding that had been done on it.
The mark was as beautiful and as flawless as ever. The skin around my tattoo was badly scarred, rubbed red, inflamed, and hot to the touch, a testament to the perfection of mine and Dolosus' bond... I'll admit I had been worried about it. Last night as I was about to go to bed, I had been inspecting it, dismayed to find that it was marked by cuts, but it appeared to have fully healed overnight. I found it odd, but comforting, since the skin around it was healing at much slower, natural rate... It cheered me up considerably.
I needed that; it was the first time something had gone right for me since I had been captured, and it was a wonderful feeling. Right before I'd fallen asleep last night, a warrior had injected me with the paralytic drug again, so I'd suffered another long, uncomfortable eight hours. To have something good happen to me upon regaining my ability to move left me ecstatic, to say the least. I looked out the bars of my cell; it had been nearly a full day since I'd waken up and I hadn't seen Marissa at all since she'd tried to remove my tattoo the previous day.
In a way I found to be very masochistic, I almost missed her... She at least gave some something to do, even if it was often snide or centered around the sole purpose of causing me pain. It was better than this complete lack of entertainment; if I moved too much, the warriors screamed at me, and if I tried to talk to them, they either ignored me or threatened to blast my brains out of my skull if I didn't shut up. I almost longed for a chance to run on that damn treadmill, or even walk down the hallways to whatever new horrible room I was destined for, but I got none of that. The most interesting thing that had happened to me was having my food delivered.
I was so distracted by the mind-numbing, steady ticking of the clock on the wall and the tedious beeping of the machines in the room, that I almost didn't notice when the pain in my chest abruptly lessened. It jolted my mind back to alertness; my chest had been steadily throbbing every waking hour since Dolosus had been torn from me. Was I getting immune to it? I wasn't sure. Halfheartedly, I opened my mind, tentatively calling,
'Dolosus?'' For a moment, it seemed like a wasted effort, but after several seconds, I got a weak, faint reply.
'Lyra?'' I was immediately on my feet, moving close to the bars of my cell, as if that was going to to make his voice slightly clearer. One of the guards scowled at me and withdrew her gun, but I ignored her. Before I could say anything else to Dolosus, Marissa burst into the room, holding his cage. It felt like I was seeing him for the first time; I took in every little detail of his unique plumage, the way his pitch-black eyes sparkled, just how beautiful his tan bordered, heart-shaped white face looked... I had never been happier to see him in my life. Without so much as a second glace at either of us, Marissa shoved Dolosus into the cell next to mine.
Wordlessly, we both made our way to the barred wall separating us. I managed to fit my thin arms though the bars and wrapped them around his soft body, pulling him against my chest in a hug, not caring that there was a wall separating us; it didn't matter to me. We were together again, and I wasn't going to let anything ruin the elation I felt.
“I've missed you so much,” I whispered, finally letting him go from my embrace.
'And I you,' he said gently; it was obvious that he hadn't coped with his loneliness any better than I had. For a moment, everything was right. We were together again, but it wasn't meant to last. My thoughts were cut off when I heard the door to my prison chamber open. I stared pointedly at the concrete floor of my cell, not wanting to face whichever smug Uxor was now bothering me.
"Well, well,” the voice laughed, “I must say its been years since I last had the displeasure of meeting you." I was quite surprised that the voice belonged not to Marissa, the one I’d been expecting, nor any of the scientists or warriors I had been hearing day after day. Still, it was familiar, and I knew why... I looked up unwillingly into the face of the Queen of Uxor, my mortal enemy. After I got over the initial shock that she'd actually come all the way out here just for the sole purpose of gloating, my face hardened into a smirk.
"Too many years," I said in an obnoxiously polite voice. "You seemed to have gotten even older..." It was true; she looked like she could have laid down and died right on the floor of the lab.
"Oh please," she said looking around her in distaste. "Spare me your sarcasm; that grew old a long time ago."
"There's something we both agree on," I snapped back. “The 'long time ago' part, that is.”
"Watch your mouth, child," she warned. "I think you'll find that, yet again, you are at my mercy."
I smirked. "You don't have mercy," I replied, glaring at her. "A person needs a heart and a soul to be merciful, and you have neither."
She laughed dryly. "Now there’s something we both agree on." I almost told her to shut up, but, seeming to sense my intentions, Dolosus looked at me critically.
'Lyra, she is not a warrior or a researcher; she's far more dangerous. Do not be arrogant. As much as you hate it, be the submissive one for once in your life.' I knew he was right.
"I'm going to venture a wild guess and say that you're the true reason I'm in here, correct?" I asked her instead, trying to ease into a more causal topic that would make it easier for me to keep my cool.
"Of course." She seemed proud. "You are here because I saw it right that you were brought here, just like you are still alive because I see fit to keep you breathing." She paused. "For now."
"I have to say that I'm flattered,” I laughed, genuinely amused by her word. “I didn't realize that you were so scared of me and my friends."
"Scared is a funny choice of words," she said, walking around the room slowly, analyzing everything that was in here for use in my torture. "I am not afraid of your 'friends', I am unnerved by the sickness that seems to be infecting the minds of so many. They seem to believe that they can defeat us!" She snickered. "How foolish."
"I hope you realize," I hissed at her arrogance, clearing the distance between the back wall of the cell and the barred door in two steps, "that the second even one of these cities fall, every man will join us. You do the math, Your Highness."
"You assume that one of our cities will fall. Unfortunately for you, you are wrong."
"Your cities are not impregnable," I replied calmly. "I've proved that time and time again."
"Yes," she snapped, obviously a bit irritated, "but you have only done so because the only adversaries you have ever come across have been in no larger numbers than three. You and your pathetic group of traitors would have no hope against all of us. Isn't that why you tried to escape to America? Because you knew you were too weak."
A snicker forced its way out of my lips. "It was because I'm smart," I replied. "I know better than to set my friends against impossible odds."
"Smart enough to get yourself caught I see,” she replied with a shrug of her shoulder. "I applaud your genius."
"The method by which I was caught was not a weakness," I informed her. "I feel no shame in it."
"Oh Lyra," she sighed, and I was shocked she used my name, "your absolute stubbornness and refusal to admit defeat is so much like your mother's... Although she used hers in the correct way, unlike you." I couldn't hide the confusion I felt; my mother? What did she have to do with this? My mother had been a birther, loathed by society and treated as lesser by every woman. I couldn't once remember her being stubborn or determined; she was submissive.
"What are you talking about?" I asked, earnestly dumbfounded. She smiled, but it looked so unnatural and forced that her face seemed to be in pain.
"You don't know, do you?"
"Know what?" I asked. I was a bit annoyed at my curiosity; I didn't want her to know that I was interested by what she was saying, but I couldn't hide it. "My mother was a birther..." I muttered. Her smugness only grew; it was clear she relished in my apparent ignorance.
"You see,” she replied, “the reason I came here was not enjoy your wonderful company, or delight in your sarcasms, but instead to really turn your world upside-down before you die. Lyra, your usefulness to Marissa and I has come to a close, and therefore there is no longer a reason for me to keep you alive. It may be tonight, it may be next week, but you will be spending your final days in this cell." She actually came close to the bars and bent down on her rickety knees. "However, there is something I want you to know first."
"Don't bet on it," I spat. "You underestimate me, like so many times before... But go on." I noticed that Dolosus hadn't said anything for quite a while, and when I looked at him, he was staring at the Queen piercingly, as if trying to read something.
"Did you never wonder,” she asked, “why your 'mother' had golden hair and brown eyes, yet you had brown hair and green eyes? Did you never wonder why you were treated so much better than the average birther family? It never crossed your mind why your 'mother' hated you so very much?"
I hesitated... I had noticed all those things before, but I had always assumed I just got it from my father... It had seemed weird to me; children, due to careful editing in the reproductive fluids used, rarely inherited many, if any, traits from their father, so, yes, it had struck me as odd. I had just pushed to the back of my mind for all these years; the scientists that conjured the fluids could have made a mistake with me... They were only human, after all. But now that she mentioned it, it was true about being treated better than average birther... and that had nothing to do with genetics.
"I always thought I just looked more like my father... And my intelligence is what got me so much higher up than a birther!" I defended weakly, but I had a very sickening feeling growing in the pit of my stomach.
"Intelligence?" She laughed. "Intelligence? Oh dear, you really aren't that clever. Your status in the city had nothing to do with the brain power you claim to have; it had to do with your real mother."
“Real mother? That birther was-” I cut myself off. “Is my real mother.” She just grinned at me and shook her head, as if to say I was wrong. "Impossible," I hissed. "My mother told me many times that I was her first born."
"That is a lie," she said blatantly.
"My mother never would have lied to me about that!" I yelled, more appalled than I was angry. "Why the hell would I ever take your word over hers?"
"You don't have to believe me, but I am telling the truth. Your real birth mother is someone quite famous; you may have heard of her."
"Who?" I asked, no longer able to pretend that this wasn't ripping my mind to shreds. Slowly, she reached down into her small handbag that I hadn't noticed until now and she pulled out a small piece of folded-up paper, which she held up close to the bars.
"Your mother is Adelaide, the Authority and ruler of Uxor-Europe.” I looked at her like she was insane, but she continued, not affected by my reaction, “She gave you up at birth because you were born a twin to a male, and its a known fact that twins are similar. We couldn't risk someone like you ever coming in line to a throne, so we gave you to anyone willing to take you. From that day on, we were just waiting for a way to get rid of you, so when it came out that you were betraying us it just made everything easier." What? I was trying to take this all in. She had just told me that I was her granddaughter, third in line to the thorn of Uxor? I couldn't believe that; she was full of shit.
"If this is your idea of a joke," I said shakily, "it isn't funny."
"Just look at the picture,” she said simply. “But do it quickly, I have matters to attend to."
I hesitated... Did I want to? No. Hell, no. Did I have to? Technically, no, but I knew in my heart that I wouldn't be content until I knew, until I could look at the picture, say I bore no resemblance to Adelaide, and rub it in the miserable old hag's face. I reached through the bars with shaking fingers, managing to unfold the picture with a fair amount difficulty... It was an image of Adelaide, as I expected, but what came as a surprise was my comparison of the two of us. I had never realized just how much she looked like me. We had the same eyes, the same hair, the same face, the same eyebrows, the same nose and lips... I looked back at the Queen stupidly, speechless for once in my life.
"Are you satisfied now, traitor?” she sneered. “Think of all you could of had, and all the land that is rightfully yours and your brother's. Until the day you die, think of everything you could have changed." She grinned wickedly. "It is a shame you and I are the only ones who know this, and it is an even greater shame that you will soon die here wondering 'what if?' You could have been great, but the moment you chose them over us was the moment I began my deep hatred of you." She rose to her feet to leave.
"Great?" I echoed. "There's nothing great about you, your daughters, or even the very idea of this twisted reality you have created. I remember the choice you gave me that day. In your eyes, perhaps it was merciful...” I briefly thought back to the day I was exiled, when she and Adelaide had paid me a visit in my holding cell before my trial. They had given me a choice: admit that I was wrong and be allowed to resume my life in Uxor-Europe, or go through the painful experience of being branded and cast out as an Insurgo. It had taken me about two seconds to make my decision.
“I guess,” I said, snapping back to reality, “that I should have seen the signs then, but, regardless, making me choose between a life in Uxor or my own brother is not an option at all. I love him with all my heart, which is more than I can say for either of my mothers."
"But perhaps he doesn't love you," she said spitefully. "There has been no rescue attempt as far as I am aware and the choice you were given was beyond merciful. Despite your faults, I still saw fit to give you a chance to stay here and perhaps one day inherit the throne, but you threw it away." I laughed without humor.
"I never could have inherited anything. Even I can tell that you're just trying to make me feel worse about these 'what ifs' you're throwing at me, which I won't. You never would have trusted me enough to let me anywhere near a throne." She actually sighed.
"If that is what you choose to believe, then die believing it."
"Lexio saved my life,” I snarled. “His mere existence kept me from being condemned to the life of all my aunts, sisters, cousins, my mother, and even my grandmother." I glared at her. "I'd rather die here than think there was ever a possibility I could have been like you. Even if you gave me the choice now, knowing that I've been sentenced to a most likely painful death, I would refuse. My morals are more valuable to me than anything." I paused and cast a quick look at Dolosus, knowing that what I had said wasn't completely true. "And he'd never forgive me if I chose any other way." I could feel him literally radiating pride.
"If you seek forgiveness, you will not find it here,” she said. “Not anymore."
"As long as my fellow Insurgo will forgive me for getting captured, nothing else matters to me,” I replied. “You can kill me, but it will make no difference. You've lost. Insurgo all over the world have been riled against Uxor and all of us want the same thing. I seek no forgiveness from you, and if that's what you want me to beg for, you won't get it."
"When the day comes and the Insurgo are all but extinct, I will make sure that all of them know that it was your fault, and your fault alone, so that not even the ones you fought for will forgive you!" she spat.
"That day will never come," I said simply.
She snickered. "Oh, but it will."
“Only time will tell,” I said. The Queen nodded, as if in agreement with me.
“I bid you farewell, Insurgo," she said, turning and leaving the room.
The second the door sealed shut again and I was cast into darkness, I wearily rose to my feet and paced back to the corner of my cell, next to Dolosus. Still holding the picture of Adelaide, my mother, I pressed my back against the cold stone wall, slid to the ground, and stared at the image blankly. This couldn't be true. I wasn't Uxor royalty; everything I stood for was the exact opposite of what the royals wanted... But the more I looked at the picture, the more I realized that I was her spitting image. I shook my head in denial, knowing that everything the Queen had told me was true, but I didn't want to accept it... I couldn't... I wasn't a princess; I was the inferior daughter of a lowly birther turned traitor...
'Lyra...' Dolosus said gently in my head. 'Don't think on it too much. This doesn't change anything about you. You are still an Insurgo, and their leader at that.' I shook my head in disagreement. 'Listen to your heart, not your brain,' he pressed.
"Everything I ever knew was a lie," I whispered. "How can I know who I am at heart when I know nothing about my true self?" Rather than seem annoyed like I would have expected from him, he sent me comforting feelings and reached through the bars to stroke my trembling hand with his wing. I looked him full in the face, a tear in my eye.
'Lyra...' he murmured softly. I dropped my head into my hands and began to cry. 'I love you,' he said quietly and my eyes widened in shock as my head snapped up to face him. He had never said that to me before. Ever. I had always felt the deepest compassion possible for him and I know that he returned my feelings, but I didn't think his idea of love was the same as mine. Even to me, he was naturally cold and indifferent, often brutally so, but he had just admitted he loves me.
"Dolosus?" I asked him incredulous. "Did you ju-"
'Yes, now hush,' he soothed. 'Stop crying. You don't need a mother; I love you more than any family could. I have not seen my mother since I left my nest as fledgling, and do I dwell on it?' He was obviously expecting an answer, so I shook my head. 'Exactly. My parents did not make me what I am today. The only purpose a parent serves is to birth and rear their young; they are disposable to the offspring after they reach maturity. You are far past the line of maturity, Lyra.' I really couldn't come up with a good argument against what he said, so I just muttered,
“That's different, Dolosus. You're an owl.” He puffed out his feathers and actually squawked at me.
'Don't you dare use excuses like that! You know as well as I do that I was raised no different than you were.'
“What are you-” I started to ask, but he cut me off.
'My parents gave me the bare necessities of life and taught me what I needed to survive on my own. That is all your mother did as well.'
“My mother?” I snapped. “My mother?” I began to shout. “My mother disowned me upon my birth. My mother never even met me. My mother had me marked as a traitor and exiled from Uxor. My mother never even gave me a chance.” My voice broke on the last word. Dolosus' glare softened.
'Do you really consider this woman to be your mother?'
“No,” I said automatically, "that bitch will never be my mother." I was just being defensive, but when Dolosus seemed to smile, I realized what I had just said. Adelaide wasn’t my mother. The Queen wasn't my grandmother. Uxor wasn't my kingdom. The Insurgo were my subjects, the forests were my home, Lexio was both my brother and the only family I needed, Nephele was both my best friend and my sister, Felix was the only person I'd ever need for the rest of my life... Yes, I might have been born with Adelaide's egg cell, but I was no more her daughter than Dolosus was her son.
“You're right, Dolosus,” I whispered to him. I grinned to myself; the Queen might have thought she was turning my world upside-down, but it had done the opposite; she had hardened my resolve to destroy Uxor, because now I had something more to fight for. I wasn't just a rebel, I was a disgraced princess, and as such, it was my duty to protect my kingdom, even if it meant saving it from itself.