Written: 7/15/2024
Word Count: 1,573

In the capital, I was an object edged only with sharp points, jagged and rusty. Even a chancing glimpse of me was enough to risk being cut by my exposed sides.

Since coming to the Haspa Mines four days ago, a whirlwind had buffeted me on all sides. It would have been less jarring if I'd gone straight up to the mountain peaks and let the wind fling me every which way.

The Dark Elves. The threat of imprisonment. The murder scene. Lizyk. My aunt's notes. Emery.

What had I done at each life-altering revelation? Each new shiny piece of knowledge?

With Resinee's grisly family history, I was once again standing on a precipice. What it was that I was supposed to be looking towards, I didn't know. I couldn't even tell what it was that lay at my back.

I was used to feeling useless. I was used to feeling left out, shoved to the side. Designed to fit a narrative that felt itchy, scratchy, when I put it on.

But then why did I feel more like a loser than I ever had before?

Everything you say pisses me off.

"Well, I'm sorry about that," Resinee replied, and it was only then that I knew I had spoken out loud.

Clamping down on my disgust, I began hobbling away to my purple rug. I had yet to find a suitable bedroom. I...wasn't motivated to see the rest of the clinic. "You're sorry? Do you ever actually mean that?"

Before Resinee could begin to speak, I couldn't help but let her know just how much she should regret showing up to bother me every day. "You can give me any sob story you want. I still won't want to be around you. So just give up. Find yourself another sorry loser to sacrifice."

"Believe me, Charlotte, I would if I could," Resinee said, and I stopped just before I got down the hallway.

The world looked suspiciously red on the peripherals of my vision, but I was sure that was just indignant rage. My eyes burned. All I could do was glare, my brows a cement overhang keeping my lashes from blinking away the sensation.

I whirled around.

"You're really something, aren't you, little miss elva? Pretending to be so sweet. I'll bet no one knows what you're really like, do they?"

Resinee calmly washed out the same bowl she'd scrubbed three hundred times now. Her shoulders shrugged. She didn't even deign to look at me. "You decided that on your own, Beckett. It's my responsibility, now that my parents have passed, to guide the dragon vet. There are many others in your network. Those initials—RF—from those papers you have. That's Railey Ferntoss. We call him the master of the dragons. He usually spends the breeding season here. It's close to all the major landing points, so it's easier for him to go wherever he's needed if he's based out of the Mines." At last, Resinee glanced over at me, just long enough to casually wipe her hands dry on a towel. Opening cupboards and slotting crystalline glasses back into their spots, she continued, "I know all that because it's my job to know. Lots of illegal hunters come to this village looking for trouble. We work in tandem with the vets and other dragonitarian workers because it's more in our interest to have the dragons leave peacefully than cooperate with the hunters and be the scene of battle after bloody battle."

I shook my head. The red only grew, an ebb and flow centered solely on that stupid elva's stupid, high-tolling voice. "I don't yewing ca—"

"If I could do this myself," Resinee's voice rose over mine, a crack as sharp as splitting glass, "then I would. I don't want to rely on someone so obstinate. The other High Elves in the village are old and unwilling. Very unwilling. The Missus always went on and on about her sweet, charming, curious, loving niece. I thought everything would be fine as soon as you—"

My voice rose to a shout. "You couldn't have known it would be me who ca—"

"From what I've heard," Resinee cut through my indignant screech with cold, hard, solemnity, "you would be the one to follow. Your family doesn't actually want you around, do they? Sure, your aunt loved you. She did. But she didn't take you with her when she left, and in the end, isn't that more telling? Even the family who loves you doesn't want you around." Resinee shut the cupboard. Late-evening light cast cruel shadows across her unsmiling face. "I knew you would be shoved out. With nowhere for you to go, I expected gratitude. Not...this."

I didn't recognize my voice as I said, "Sorry to disappoint you. Turns out, I couldn't fulfill the reasons for why I was born. I couldn't even be married off without my father strong-arming some poor family. You're right. Best to discard the failure to a place she can never run away from."

"One thing I can always count on," Resinee chuckled, once, looking away, "is the cruelty of High Elves and your so-called 'purposes.'"

The red faded into something that stained my voice and balled into fists at my sides. "And Dark Elves are so different? Surely, His Imperial Majesty blessed your birth with a purpose, same as those of us 'highborn.'"

"Oh, Beckett," Resinee sounded so, so sorry, "none of us were blessed by either of our sovereigns."

My brows flew high, and I forgot how pissed I was. My only thought, a constant refrain of, "What? Your parents weren't given permission to have you?"

What do you mean?

How is that possible?

What?

How?

What?

How?

"None of us are 'legal,'" Resinee shrugged. "See how much the Capital cares? We can do whatever we want. It won't bother them, so long as we stay put. As long as we stay in this death trap for all eternity."

The conversation had taken yet another unexpected turn. Would I need to replace my neck bones at some point from all the constant whiplash? I felt like some mechanical doll pulled along by a yewing string.

"I don't like you at all," I said. My venom had dried, and all I could summon was a truly pitiable amount of smoke.

"Well, that's a shame." Resinee picked up her basket by the edge of the kitchen island, shrugging a woven bag over her shoulder. It drooped, its material too flimsy for whatever was inside of it. "Because I like you."

I scoffed. "No, you don't."

"I do, though," Resinee said. She gave me a sad smile, one that made my teeth poke out at the sneer it drew across my face. "I've heard so much about you. You may not understand, but I don't mean to insult you. Things just...haven't been working out for a while. I discovered your aunt's body, you know," she drew in a shuddering sigh, closing those bright eyes in a long pause. "I respected the Missus a great deal. I know you don't believe me, but I did. That night, there were multiple break-ins and three dragons that collapsed several tunnels. A lot of folks died. It was...horrible. Truly horrible. It was all I could do to drag her to the medic building, but it was too late. I didn't even think about the state of this place. I—I forgot how fragile you city folk are."

Another revelation. Another headspin that nearly decapitated me. I just shook my head. "I can't trust anything you say," I told her honestly.

Resinee nodded. She gave a little finger salute, turning on her heel. I watched her navigate the chairs in the welcome room. The basket swinging side to side. So carefree. Almost joyful.

At the door, she stopped, one hand on the handle to pull it closed behind her. Emery hadn't returned since it had disappeared after my nap, but I was pretty sure the door wasn't actually locked.

And why would it be? The Dark Elves would need to be able to check up on their prisoner at any time of the day. The door was only a semblance of privacy. None of it was real.

"A word of advice, Beckett," she said. Her silhouette peered into the hallway, dusky shadows layered on top of more shadows. "You can try to rebel. Kick your feet. Throw endless tantrums. Try it. See where that gets you," she smiled humorlessly. Chills raced up my arms at that dainty face flattened in something like a rotting pumpkin. "You'll soon realize that you never had a choice at all. None of us do. So we can either stay mad at each other for every difference we have. Or, we can work together. You said folk don't often get killed in the Capital, right? Well, here, they do. To me, you'll be just another body. So I'd think about whether you want to end up as just another body, or if you want to use all those gifts and talents I've heard so much about to try to make it out of this alive." She sighed, flinging open the door as if it weighed a venerable ton and not something that even her pinky toe could kick open. "Anyway, I'll pick you and that weird Hesperide up for the Burning tomorrow. Let's honor Lady Rosetta, okay? The right way."