Celeste made a mental note to look for the book next time she was in a library, brushing at her face to push back the hair that had come loose and gotten in her face. Mikhail’s voice soothed the worry she’d had churning in her gut. She had been considering at least making sure he was alright, talking to one of the medics in charge of him to see if his recovery was coming along alright. And she couldn’t help but feel….guilty, even if she knew on some level it wasn’t her fault.
Soren opened the door. "Hey, Mikhail. How you feeling?" He asked, smiling slightly.
Mikhail was sitting up on the bed, a bandage wrapped around his chest. "Bored as hell." He replied, eyes flickering from Soren to Celeste, then back to Soren.
Soren sighed. "I don't know what to tell you, then. If I tell you to read, you won't."
Mikhail shrugged. "Mm." He took a deep breath. "What the hell were you thinking? You were supposed to get to safety. It's my job to keep you safe, and i am failing my job if you come charging after me every time I get a little boo boo!" He snapped.
Soren sighed. "One, a hole through your torso does not qualify as a "little boo boo", two, why in the hell are you calling it a boo boo?"
"Because you're acting like a child, so I'm speaking your language, dipshit." Mikhail replied, crossing his arms, then wincing. It was obvious that despite the twos bickering, they were close friends, and didn't really mean any of the insults being thrown at each other.
Celeste stayed quiet, moving off to the side to let them hash it out. They needed to argue, she knew that, if it meant they could get their points across to each other. And she had no place in this discussion, except as a bystander. So that’s what she did, was stand by, torn between amusement and worry as she watched them.
"Did you just call your king a "dipshit"?" Soren demanded, crossing his arms.
"What king? I see only a whiny child who needs to take his own safety seriously!" Mikhail countered.
"I'm older than you!" Soren exclaimed.
"Wait, you are? You aren't acting like it!" Mikhail made a face at him.
"Are not."
"Are too."
"Are not."
"Are too."
Celeste snorted, pressing a fist to her mouth to muffle her snickering. Amusement it was. They were arguing like seven year olds though, how could she not find that amusing and funny? They don’t just bicker like kids, they bicker like brothers.
Mikhail sighed. "In all seriousness, Soren, you really need to be careful. It's easier to explain one dead or injured captain of the guard than it is to explain why the king exploded!"
"I wouldn't explode." Soren replied.
"Yeah? You're lucky I stopped you yesterday! You're lucky miss Sovanna was there to stop you from killing someone!" Mikhail snapped.
Soren looked away.
“Alright, alright.” Now was as good a time as any to step in, she figured, as things took a bad turn. “I didn’t-stop anyone from doing anything. That much is obvious.” Celeste said softly, shaking her head. Besides. One wrong move, and she could have killed anyone in that room. One snap of her fingers, a flick of her wrist. She couldn’t control what happened when the power surged too much.
Soren and Mikhail both looked at her.
"Regardless, you helped stop him." Mikhail replied.
"By him, do you mean me, or the Witch Blood?" Soren asked.
"Both." Mikhail replied calmly. "Now sit down."
Soren grumbled something under his breath, sitting down. "Fine."
“I didn’t do much.” Celeste said, wrapping her arms around herself and shrugging. Just got in the way. We’re lucky I didn’t fuck anything more up, or people would be dead. I can’t be the reason another person is dead. I can’t.
Mikhail raised an eyebrow. "Putting the majority of a room to sleep isnt "didn't do much", miss Sovanna." He replied.
Soren sighed softly, resting his chin on one hand.
“But I didn’t put the person that mattered to sleep.” Celeste pointed out, looking away. “Couldn’t, according to him. That’s…a first. Somebody not being affected, without using something.”
Mikhail sighed. "He was a Witch Blood. They…aren't affected as much by magic, for whatever unknown reason."
Soren nodded. "We've tried. Almost none of our spellcasters can even influence them."
“Has nothing ever worked?” Celeste asked, looking back over at Mikhail, then Soren. “Nothing you’ve tried?” There had to be something they hadn’t found yet. There was always something.
"Not really. Nothing that isn't very dangerous to us as well." Soren said.
"We think that they've just cast so many layers of protective spells that nothing we can do can penetrate." Mikhail offered, sitting up straight.
Soren nodded in agreement.
Celeste hummed thoughtfully, her mind running through her knowledge of protective spells, and sadly, her knowledge of undoing them. “And they just…hurt innocent people?” She unwrapped her arms, briefly touching her chest over her heart as a flash of pain flickered through. It usually happened after the power surges, but these ones had lasted…longer. They’d been going on all night(a night she had spent in the library) and all morning, as well.
"Well…theyre sort of a vigilante group." Mikhail said slowly. "They believe the monarchy is evil. And while they won't go out of their way to hurt civilians, they also don't care who gets caught in the crossfire."
"My sister was killed on purpose, to make a statement. Her guards were killed for trying to protect her." Soren said softly.
Celeste’s brows furrowed with a frown, her hand pressed to the spot over her heart now. “That’s not a fucking message.” The harshness of the sudden curse, and the haunted look in her eyes, made for a startling combination. “That’s senseless violence. As someone who’s known a person behind a ‘message’ or three of the same goddamn type, there’s a fucking difference.” I want to help I want to help I want to help I need to help-
Soren nodded. "Yes, well. There's a reason we've been trying to stamp them out." He said softly.
Mikhail shrugged. "Whether it's senseless violence or not, we still are trying to get rid of them. Which is proving more difficult than we thought it would."
”There’s always a way.” Her mother’s voice rang through her head, over and over and refusing to let her think of anything else. “I might…be able to be of some help with that, actually.”
Soren shook his head quickly. "No. I can't ask anything of you. You have already done too much." He said. "We can handle this."
Mikhail was quiet, watching them.
"Really, Celeste. We have this under control." Soren added.
“Soren, your Majesty, with all due respect, you really don’t.” Celeste said, the words out of her mouth before she could pause to think them over. It was too late anyway, so she kept going. “You know next to nothing about keeping these people from being a threat, and I might be able to help. I have…experience with what I’m about to offer, anyway. But Soren, people have been hurt, and they’re going to continue to get hurt. I want to help.”
Soren shook his head. "No, Celeste. You are a guest here, I can't ask you to do anything. You've already done enough. More than you needed to."
Mikhail remained silent, letting them talk.
“And would you say the same if you knew I could get you information you could never get on your own?” Celeste challenged, carefully continuing to push. “If I told you that I could see inside the mind of the man from last night, with nothing but a touch? Because I can, Soren. While he dreams, I can learn things from his mind about any number of things.” My father had me do the same to his prisoners, so I know what I’m doing.
Soren took a deep breath, crossing his arms. "Celeste, no. I told you, I can't and won't ask anything more from you." He told her. "Regardless of your abilities, you are a guest here, and I don't know you that well."
"Miss Sovanna, your wish to help has been noted. However, you aren't known to either the king or I, and therefore cannot be trusted with the kind of sensitive information this man may know." Mikhail spoke up for the first time.
Celeste nodded, squeezing her eyes shut. “I understand. It just feels…useless, not doing anything when I know I can.” ”Useless. You just can’t seem to do anything right. Maybe another trip to the Cells will wring that out of you.” “I’m sorry.” She wasn’t sure if she was apologizing to Soren and Mikhail, or to the ghost of her father in her mind, but the words were spoken either way.