Invisible (2)

(Leo)

***

Algor's speech was hardly a deviation from my suspicions to the extent I was glad I didn't have to reconcile conflicting tales.

"You call them gullible because they didn't always side with you." I stepped forward, attempting to mend the destroyed floor below me as it scratched my soles. "If you ask me, that makes them the opposite."

"You don't get *shit*," he spat.

I snickered. "I've heard it from both sides. I think I know more than you."

"Whatever you want to say." He swung a hand out to his right, inches away from the shelves of letters. "A historian is no more accurate than their sources."

"Then, if you're so mad at Sinclair, explain your issue with Ine—"

"Don't ask for things you already know the answers to."

"I don't know your answer." Wanting to be as provocative as possible, I kicked aside a paper with a cocky grin. "Why do you have a bone to pick with him?"

Inei averted his eyes, indicating dreadful shame and sadness welled up in him. At least—the gesture told me—at least he had a conscience, something many stubborn people lacked. Seeing a man in his forties look so defeated was like finding cash on the road, what with their ridiculous egos they thought bolstered their nonexistent morals. (No need to overcompensate.)

Algor shook his head, and I knew I was testing his patience by then.

"Stupid boy," he shouted. "Don't you know he was the one who made Sinclair do all that? He thinks of women as a commodity to trade for food and resources from another kingdom." He tightened his fists. "A noble person does not act like that. A noble leader does not exploit another place for his own purposes. For twenty. Fucking. Years. It makes me want to break down when I think about all the wrong he did to the Terrestrial Kingdom."

"You were harassing a boy. Was I supposed to let you continue with that?"

Inei never got his answer. His powers were so weak in the room—threads against swords—that he did not pose a viable threat to anyone, which meant he was mostly ignored when he blamed Algor for his problems.

It was funny, really, that he considered himself a big fish in any other situation.

Frankly, I wasn't on anybody's side, so I figured I could concede some after Algor turned into a train of information kept in motion by inertia.

"You're absolutely right, Algor, but how much more noble is a person who targets someone's children?"

I didn't need to talk myself into a ditch or be verbose to get my point through to him.

Trampling the pathway of letters lining the floor, he grabbed my throat and threw me against the cabinets. "You're accusing me of something I didn't do."

I locked eyes with him. Then, I kneed him in the groin, causing him to yelp in pain and loosen his grip so that it was comfortable for me to talk.

"*'Hereby the kings shall be deprived of what they deprived me, for,'*" I said to the back of his head as he leaned over, "*'if their children shall fall in love, they shall be sent to become outcasts centuries in the future that even I cannot bring back.'* That's what you wrote to curse the prince and princess, right?"

Quiet.

I took the initiative to speak. "You did that because Inei took Daemon from you, yeah?" There was a threatening lilt to my voice that I rarely possessed.

Algor still couldn't say anything as he moved to hold me by the collar. His hands flexed as if they talked for him when his lips should have been doing the work.

With hands grazing his shoulders like he was a hunk of mold, I shoved him away.

Inei muttered, "You tricked me, Algor…"

He was right: Algor knew exactly where the nobles were but didn't tell us since he knew there was no way to save them. He led us on.

"You're pitiful," I told the fairy.

"You, too," I snapped as I turned to Inei to implicate him. "You traded your children's well-being for your personal agenda. Do you not feel any regret?"

That was the fastest I ever saw his face contort into something awful and shredded—something so sad that even a stone would sob. It tugged at my heart, but I could be colder than a rock when I wanted to be; I lived just as long as one.

Algor swivelled to examine him. In the records room, it was unfortunate that the only thing that could unite any two of us was a disdain for the third.

"Ever since Koharu disappeared," Inei said as he tried to keep from weeping entirely, "I haven't been able to forgive myself. I've been trying to take care of the remaining people who are dear to me. You might have noticed." His head tilted down sadly. "Hikaru and I aren't fighting much anymore. Not over anything of worth."

As his voice grew shakier, its tone strangely became more hopeful. "I've already talked with him about reuniting this place and installing a parliament to limit what I can do. What else… what else do you think I've been trying to express by doing this?"

Glimmering eyes making him seem earnest, he sniffled. "Do you think I'm that evil?"

I did not know how to respond to him, so I kept silent until I was sure of my words, wanting to keep anything I said succinct.

"I'm glad you've been trying," I stated kindly before my eyes turned dark, "but sometimes, an apology isn't enough for whoever is hurt."

He dragged heavy feet across the shattered stone, teary-eyed and all, and he slapped me harshly across the face—still too ignorant to understand the concept of boundaries.

I was in shock for a few seconds while my brain stalled. The red marks stung harshly as if an entire beehive assaulted my face, and I touched it gingerly before my throat emitted a high whine from the contact.

"Fuck you," he said. His words wavered wildly, but his sentences were somehow steady. "Fuck you for doing this to me while I'm attempting to come to terms with my daughter being gone!"

I was ready to chew him out for that, so rattled and moody that I could hardly control myself. "I never said I couldn't for—"

"Take your hands off the boy, Inei."

Algor and I both spun to the entrance—shocked to hear a voice neither of us associated with an advisor—before we said in unison, "Hikaru?"