The Partisan Chronicles [Dystopia | Supernatural | Mystery]

Rhian

I haven't got the words to describe how none of us had the words.

Time felt frozen. Literally, figuratively, I didn't bloody know anymore.

Zacharias lowered himself to the edge of the stage, laying his cane across his lap. Sebastian joined him, shoulder to shoulder while the rest of us still stared. For a moment, their suits looked almost too big for them. Just two traumatized little boys playing god.

Sebastian caught my eye, holding steady. His words, weaving through my thoughts as if they'd always been there. "I'm so sorry."

I nodded in response, but I wasn't sure what I meant by it yet. Between me and Strauss, Jakob sobbed quietly, so we gave him a little cuddle. And then Sebastian started crying, too. Poor bastard. On the other couch, Adeline was blank and still staring, Michael appeared lost in thought, and Gus was looking like he'd just been told a joke. Zacharias still seemed small and regular.

"Why would you do that to Sebastian?" I asked.

"My brother likes to say I betrayed him, but if we moved against the Six and failed, they would have destroyed us both, and they would have gone through with their plan regardless. And if not? The world was already in ruins. Destroying them would have changed very little in the grand scheme. There would rise another six, or sixty, or worse. They told me where to be—where Sebastian and I should be on the night of the Divide so we could avoid the destruction. And so, I did what I always did. I kept my mouth shut, and I made certain Sebastian survived."

Strauss's left cheek flinched the way it did when he was stressed.

"What about everything you've done for us along the way?" I continued. "Why have you been helping us?"

"I owe it to my brother. The Six broke their half of the agreement when they failed to deliver you dignity and autonomy."

"That's interesting. And were you concerned about our dignity and autonomy when you decided who we could fuck?"

Adeline sucked in a breath.

Jakob chuckled followed by a wet sniffle.

"A necessary precaution to promote order in chaos. A small sacrifice toward what was promised: that the Six would protect you from the cruelty of the world, from others seeking to exploit your abilities, and from yourselves. That Palisade would become a cohesive organization where you would go on to rebuild and shape the world in a positive refrain."

"Aye, so that didn't happen," Gus said.

The brothers answered with silence.

"I have a question for you, Sebastian." Adeline tucked her legs underneath, repositioning on the couch. "Do we all come from you? All of our ancestors?"

The man took a moment to compose himself, straightening his suit and his posture before answering. "Though in my heart I love you all equally, I've noticed I don't feel the same primal connection to every one of you. I've long suspected the Six discovered the technique out of a necessity to replenish ranks after the Divide. This may have diluted the line, for lack of a more sophisticated way to explain it. Besides that, I don't think the Anima would be eager creating more of those who could oppose them."

"In the Anima community, it's considered uncouth and counterintuitive to drain a pregnant woman," Zacharias added.

"Well, thank bloody hell they draw the line at pregnant women," I said. "It almost makes me forget they murder people on the regular."

The corner of Zacharias' lip twitched. "People murder people, too."

Aye, I've murdered some people.

Arsehole. Truth is, I'd have argued that I had no choice, but he'd have argued neither did they. And then I imagined poor Sebastian weeping again after being reminded of what I'd had to learn to do as a young lass. So, I just sighed.

"What about the Immaculates like me?" Michael had always been skilled at changing the subject after I'd finished putting my foot in it. Some things never change.

"If neither parent nor anyone in the near family presents as a Partisan, it's possible someone several generations before did," Zacharias suggested. "The lineage may have been lost or forgotten."

"Does it occur often?" Sebastian asked.

"I only know of Michael," I said. "Wait—reckon That Varis was, too?"

She was, and then we all agreed: we didn't know of many Immaculates, and the ones we knew or had heard of, turned out to be from Leberecht.

"Any chance Avis knows how to make a Partisan?" Michael asked.

Make a Partisan. Strange reality, that.

"Outside Zacharias, and only vaguely, I never shared the process. It's a precise procedure; an accident I took great efforts to replicate safely. That said, I wouldn't put it past Avis to have chased the method herself. In truth, I don't sense that you are mine, so you may be hers."

Michael wrinkled his nose my way.

I wrinkled mine back.

Strauss, who'd been suspiciously quiet since the brothers finished their story, finally found his words. "The Anima, the Divide, us, Palisade, everything each of us have had to see, do, and endure, all because of an elixir made with the assistance of storybook characters?"

"Fables, Foibles, Facts, and Fallacies," Zacharias said.

"Your book?" Strauss replied.

Zacharias nodded. "Yes, an adaptation of our quest for the elixir. We wrote it together."

"I suppose I may have known that if I'd had the time to translate more than one chapter."

"The very fact you were able to translate any of it is remarkable," Sebastian said.

"Right, so unless I'm misreading this situation, seems to me the pair of you have a mutual bone to pick with the Six," Gus said.

"We do," they both answered.

"So, you'll help us?" Adeline asked.

"You know I will," Sebastian replied.

Zacharias turned in toward Sebastian. "Do you remember what we would do each time we would write a new song together?"

"How could I forget?" Sebastian answered. "We would do it your way."

"And then?"

"And then," Sebastian said, "we would do it my way."

Zacharias nodded. "We've done it my way, brother. Now, let's do it yours."

Gus and I were about to leave for Jaska when Sebastian came around and asked me to step away for a chat. Even when he was Vincent Delestade, he was this larger-than-life presence, and in a way that didn't get on my bloody nerves, not to mention. But right then, as I made our way over to the furthest corner of the strange underground tavern, he seemed a bit ordinary.

That was all right, too.

Sebastian put his hands in his pockets, and took them out. He then crossed and uncrossed his arms, and finally, he tugged the bottom of his jacket and looked around shiftily.

I leaned in.

Sebastian also leaned in, looking hopeful. "You feel it too, don't you?"

Silence for a moment. To be fair, I was feeling a lot of things.

"You'll have to be more specific," I said.

"It's the closest I've felt to anyone, when you walked through the door of my lair that day in Delphia, Rhian Sinclair."

I squinted. "Well, I know you're not coming on to me, so what're you saying?"

"I'm saying I believe your line traces back all the way to me."

"So, you're saying we're related?"

"In a way, but—with the others, I feel connected but distant in varying degrees. Michael Reider not at all. Adeline Blanchett only very, very vaguely."

"What about Strauss?"

"What do you think?"

"Half and half?"

It was half and half.

Sebastian peered around the room where the others were mingling at the bar and Strauss was in a quiet chat with Jakob. "My connection with Feargus Finlay and Matteus Rizik is strong as well, but not like yours. Your father felt it, too. I know he did."

"What are you asking? If I feel connected to you? Because I dunno, mate. I don't tend to run around looking for connection with people. I hadn't even thought about it."

Sebastian's shoulders sunk, and I sighed.

"All right, I mean, I guess? I did have a hunch."

"The hunch! That's what I'm talking about. You had a hunch."

All those years making us think we were blessed by a bunch of boring gods, and here I was finding out I was one in a long line coming from a rebellious musician.

Look, I didn't hate it.

Also, the man had been having a rough day, opening up to us all like that. Crying in public and whatnot. Reckoned I could do him a solid.

"Here's the thing." I crossed my arms. "I've never much liked mirrors. Always a reminder that with a wee bit of colour in my eyes, my life could've been completely different. Didn't do me any good thinking like that, so I've avoided looking at all. Now, as far as I can see, you've only ever tried to help. And maybe you do good things to make up for the bad. Maybe you're just a good person. But what I'm trying to say is, next time I'm passing by a mirror, I might stop and have a glance. And I wonder if I might feel differently now because of you."

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Sebastian put his hands on my shoulders. "I told your father we're going to change the world together and I meant it. The next generation depends upon it."

"Aye, and this next generation's about to get complicated."

Sebastian held a hand out toward me. "May I?"

I squinted. "You're not going to do anything weird, are you?"

He promised he wouldn't, and I let him lay a hand on my belly.

The whole affair was awkward but also not.

"Do you wish to know?" he asked. "The gender."

"Uhh—" I called over my shoulder, "Strauss, do we wish to know the baby's gender?"

Strauss shifted in our direction, flashing a small, curious smile. "Ah—do we—?"

"Yes!" Adeline decided. "We absolutely do wish to know."

"Reckon it'll be more fun if you're surprised," Gus said.

I already knew what I wanted, so I looked to Strauss again. This time, he shook his head.

"Gus is right," I told Sebastian. "But you can humour Adeline later."

The Squeaky Lass squeaked, and it was everybody back to business, and me back to me wrapping up my conversation with Sebastian. "Anyway, it was nice chatting, mate, but I've gotta run an urgent fashion errand for your brother, apparently. We good here?"

"We are good, Rhian Sinclair."

After taking one last look at the illusionist who smiled, waved, and seemed to have inflated into his suit, I tossed him a two-finger salute, gave Strauss a kiss goodbye, and got the fuck out of there with Gus. After all that, I wished I could drink, but I couldn't, so.

I ate some stale bread I found in my bag instead.

When we arrived in Jaska, Gus and I headed straight for the glassworks where we ran into Alexander. He'd been overseeing renovations at the estate, including designing a new stained glass window for the atrium. Interesting as all that was, we knew what we had to tell him was a hell of a lot more interesting. He took us to the Silver Spoon for lunch.

The Creepy Lass's creepy table was still there, creepy as ever. I wondered how things were going at sea.

"I can't believe we're sort-of-but-not-really related to Sebastian Vonsinfonie," Gus said.

"Meanwhile, I'm still getting over having given him a piggy back," Alexander added.

I snickered and took a sip of my pumpkin soup. "Aye, that's a memory reframed."

Alexander nodded thoughtfully. "It's all rather hard to believe, isn't it?"

"It's so hard to believe that I reckon it's the closest thing to the truth we'll ever get."

"Aye, I've been considering getting a gem-toned suit to celebrate my lineage," Gus said. "I'm thinking green, but maybe red. We'll have to get one for you, too, Rhian."

"I'm good, but I'd suggest red for you, mate."

Alexander leaned back in his chair. "I wish I could have been there."

"I dunno," Gus said. "It was intense. Zacharias was all, 'Our parents were the best,' and Sebastian was all, 'Actually, they were the worst,' and then Zacharias admitted to destroying the world, twice, I guess, and then Sebastian said, 'Your denial is the reason for everything bad,' and Zacharias answered, 'I deny your accusations of denial with more denial. A pox on you, brother!' and we were all sitting there like, 'What is happening? Also, a pox?' So, aye, frankly? The whole thing was a bit awkward. And really sad."

"That sounds about right," I said. "Except the thing about the pox. They came to a truce."

Alexander blinked and nodded. "I see. Thank you for the detailed account, mister Finlay."

Gus and I swapped tankards—pumpkin for onion.

I took a sip and straightaway decided the pumpkin was better.

Anyhow. Enough about soup. I eyed the rectangular box on the table.

Whatever Adeline needed us to pick up for her at the glassworks was stowed away, and I'd been curious about it for long enough to give it a shake.

"What is it?" I asked Alexander.

"A gift for Andrei," he answered.

"What kind of gift?"

"A practical gift."

"Strauss likes practical gifts."

"I expect this will go over well," Alexander said. "Have a look."

But I didn't have a look, intending to stuff the box away in my bag. It wasn't a very big box, to be fair. My bag might've been a mystical wonder, but it sure as shite wasn't a goddess-be-damned endless void. And while I was digging around trying to make space for the box, I found Ivana's locket. I handed it over to Alexander who smiled sadly when he opened it.

"I should have given it to you sooner," I said. "Reckon she'd want you to have it."

After a moment, Alexander tucked the locket into his breast pocket and patted it twice. "Ivana and I helped each other through a lot."

"I know, I wish I could've—"

"She was tired, Rhian," Alexander interrupted gently. "You can let it go."

Well, I wasn't so sure about letting it go, but Gus and I traded our tankards again, and the rest of our lunch with Alexander was just a regular lunch.

Moving on.

We still had to collect Zacharias's parcels from Vivienne's, but the day was young, and whenever we'd have a minute to breathe, one of mine and Gus's favourite things to do was to lounge on a roof somewhere and chat about whatever.

I've said it afore, but it's the little things in life.

We laid on our backs on the slope of a house.

"What's it been like?" I asked. "Working with Faust?"

"She's an interesting lady," Gus replied. "She likes you a lot."

"Aye? Wish she wouldn't. Things were less complicated when she just tolerated me enough to keep me out of solitaire."

"Tell me about it."

"Gus, I'm glad you're still here."

"Me, too. I've missed you, Rhian."

"I've missed you, too, mate."

It was quiet for a minute while we ate our sticky buns.

"So, you and the Squeaky Lass. Don't think I haven't bloody noticed."

Gus grinned, shrugging. "What's not to like, right?"

Well, he wasn't wrong, and I was rooting for them.

As the afternoon went on, we gossiped about the everyday shenanigans that had gone on at the base while Strauss and I were on vacation in Zacharias's weird room.

And then we gossiped about the weird room itself.

After a while, it was quiet again, but this time not because we were eating sticky buns, but because we both heard the same thing at the same time.

Peering down at the Jaskan streets below, the source of the sound would've been hard to miss even without the excellent eyesight. Her hair, big and bright red like a goddess-be-damned forest fire. It wasn't especially common for the Assembly to parade around each other's territories. They weren't technically allowed unless they were escorted by the ruling Councilwoman. Trailing behind Councilwoman Blanchett, Councilwoman Faust looked tired.

I signed to Gus the equivalent of a big old raspberry.

"—of all the places, and all the sordid behaviour she would have been exposed to."

"Your daughter was instrumental in closing a serial murder case, Adelaide," Faust said. "Not to mention all the staff singing her praises as a person and as a bartender."

As the pair walked and talked, Gus and I followed them from the rooftops.

"A bartender, that's ridiculous. She's a Blanchett."

Councilwoman Faust shrugged, appearing sympathetic. It was a terrible job at it, mind you, but Blanchett didn't seem to notice.

"It's enough knowing she and Feargus Finlay are alive, and so must the others be."

I signed to Gus the equivalent of a big old pile of dung.

We hopped to another roof.

"Adelaide, I've had people looking—"

"Not hard enough, evidently."

Councilwoman Faust frowned, and when the pair paused, we held our positions.

"It's a wonder you always decline my offer to send telepaths along with your charges. Look how much I was able to learn, Zelda. And in such a short time, too."

"You are, indeed, quite talented."

The Delphi smiled and adjusted her coat made from half the woodland creatures in Amalia, I reckoned. "What say we have an early dinner?"

Of all the things to argue with Councilwoman Blanchett about, Councilwoman Faust didn't choose arguing about an early dinner. The pair slipped into the Silver Spoon, and I know that not only on account of I knew where the Silver Spoon was and I was just there a few hours afore, but because I could read the sign.

The. Silver. Spoon.

I was a goddess-be-damned genius.

Also, fuck.

Gus and I hurried to collect Zacharias's parcels and get the hells out of the city afore the Councilwomen got done with their dinner.

Let me just say: there were a lot of parcels.

A lot. Of parcels.