Chapter 124 – Crumbling (1)

The soft light of healing resonances illuminated the otherwise dimly lit chamber. Lord Aulorn, laying on silken sheets, remained unconscious. A dozen or so healers stood around him in a circle. They wore simple, white robes, covered their heads with hoods, and held ornate staves, embossed with gold and housing crystals shining as bright as a small sun.

Standing at the doorway, Midhir watched their resonances try and heal the Lord Enforcer. There was a weight on his chest, pressing down on his heart.

“It wasn’t our fault.”

He flinched upon hearing Willow’s voice. When had she arrived?

“You’re the last person who should be trying comfort me.” He stepped aside, allowing her to step through, but the young woman shook her head.

“I know it’s not my fault.” There was a newfound confidence in her voice. Certainty that wasn’t there before. “I did my best. You don’t think you did, though. I can see it in your face – you’re not nearly as good at hiding your emotions as you think you are.”

Midhir couldn’t help but softly chuckle. She wasn’t wrong. “I should have been able to do more.” He breathed out as his smile faded quickly. “I should have been able to stop him and Alistair from ending up like this.”

Willow’s forced smile tuned into a frown. She looked down, at her own hands. “You fought till help came, didn’t you?”

He couldn’t call that fighting. With a sigh, he stepped away from the door, and walked to the other side of the hallway, where another, larger door opened up to a balcony overlooking the lake, and the city beyond it.

Willow followed him, almost relieved that they stepped away.

“I got beaten up, if that’s what you refer as ‘fighting’.” He admitted, stepping outside and leaning on the marble guardrails. “I would have died had Ilya not arrived in time.”

Willow also leaned on the guardrails, her gaze lingering on the thirteenth district covered in mist. “It was strong.” Her voice was but a whisper.

Midhir nodded. “Very. None of us stood a chance against it. Not even all of us at once.” It was a foe beyond them. It wasn’t just experience they lacked to be able to stand their ground against a monster like that, but also sheer strength.

“How was her highness so fast?” Willow asked. “Isn’t she only five years older than we are?”

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Midhir narrowed his eyes. “Seven years older,” he corrected her. “Ilya’s stronger than most people you’ll find in Eldoria though.” That fact made it even more terrifying that the creature had been able to tire her. “Power takes many forms, most attainable by people like us, but some granted through birthright.”

Willow narrowed her eyes. “Hers is the latter, then?”

“The Ardagh bloodline has a long history, tracing back to before the Eldorian Empire was founded. The authority she holds is beyond just being the heir to the throne. Her blood grants her power.” He glanced over his shoulder. “I’d say the same about Alistair. The Orlein house was one of the first to serve the Ardagh house. Surely they carry such power as well, but Alistair hasn’t quite learned to tap into that yet.”

Willow looked down, at her own palms. “So, I was right then.” She muttered with a low voice. Her shoulders dropped. “We’re not nobles. Not really.”

She must have been referring to her father being granted a noble title. He was the first to rise into nobility in many centuries, and he had done so with nothing but sheer power and loyalty. “I don’t think you were right.” He hesitated before putting his hand on her shoulder. “Willow, your father is incredibly powerful. I don’t understand how he achieved so much as such a young age, but he is the picture of nobility – much more so than many of the higher nobles I’ve seen at the academy.”

Willow shook her head. “That’s not what I meant.”

He let out a sigh. “I know.” She longed for power – power to help her protect those she cared about. He could see it in how she always rushed to heal and save them. “You’re strong too, you know.” He almost absentmindedly spoke. “You saved Ilya back there.”

Willow raised her head, looking at him with a surprised expression. “She would have been able to stop that creature easily.”

Midhir shrugged. “You didn’t know that. You saw she was about to get hit, and used whatever power you had to save her.” He stepped away from the guardrails, and turned to face her. “I should have said this earlier, but better late than never. Thank you,”

A faint, hopeful smile appeared on her lips. “You don’t need to thank me. You would have done the same for any of us.”

Midhir shrugged. He probably would have. “Yeah…”

They watched the city in silence for a while longer. The sound of heeled boots clicking on the ground broke the silence as the last rays of sunlight disappeared, and night covered the world. “There you are,” Ilya’s sharp, yet somewhat cheerful voice startled them.

“Your highness-“ Willow flinched, quickly stepped away from Midhir and bowed, only to be met with a deep sigh.

“Just don’t – I think I just dealt with enough throne worship for a lifetime.” Ilya waved her hand dismissively. Her sharp gaze turned to Midhir. “I was this close,” she lifted her hand in front of her face, bringing her thumb and index finger so close together that they were almost touching. “To just knocking him out so he would shut up.” The frustration in her voice was palpable. “Now tell me how he is supposed to be some renowned historian who is knowledgeable about anything.”

While Willow straightened her back, she shot a confused glance at Midhir.

“Lonan was here,” he explained with a sigh.

“Oh. He is weird.” Willow nodded in understanding.

Ilya scowled. “This wasn’t just weird. Midhir, the man is a mess. He claims he can fix the thirteenth district. By going to the centre.” She folded her arms, her voice grew cold as she spoke her next words. “That much confidence in such madness is dangerous.”