"What do you mean ten minutes ago?"

Her mother took calculated steps toward the vials and tubes hanging beside Iliya's bed. Movements she'd marked with interest, memorizing which medicines Destry focused on.

A golden tube with flecks of orange and a large cylinder of green mana which appeared to be supplementing her life force for the time being.

"The High Council is taking Sorein's statement, as I am yours," Destry said, tracing a hand along one of the tubes. "Someday you might forgive me for what needs to be done."

"What are you talking about?"

"Your condition is only worsening and this might be my only chance to protect–"

"What in Heilos are you talking about?"

Her mother sighed, her hand dropping away from the vials. "The future of Chiori will be strained if someone were to discover your Ionsia, Dove. Letting Sorein take the heat will allow us more time to–"

"No, no," Iliya snapped, cutting her off. "Stop. You cannot be suggesting what I think you're suggesting right now."

"Unfortunately it's not up for discussion, Iliya," she replied, straightening as her face hardened. "However much you care for him, you'll need to overlook that for the security of our country."

"You're mad, since when did you become allergic to the truth?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Then I'll spell it out for you," Iliya said angrily, glaring daggers into her mother. "For years I have been alone, wondering what in Heilos was wrong with me when the answer could have been so simple. Yet here we are now, I've had to learn everything on my own. Alone. Utterly alone. You want to take away the one person who bothered to even speak with me? Acknowledge me? Use him as a scapegoat?"

Destry swallowed, turning away from her. "We've all needed to make sacrifices to protect you, Darling."

Iliya snorted. "You couldn't be bothered to tell me I'm to die one day anyway. Instead, you spent the last two years guilting and pleading with me to live. Now tell me what you know of fair?"

She could hear her mothers voice begin to break, tears forming in her eyes. "You were never supposed to know, you weren't supposed to find out until Ezre and I finished our search for the cure."

"There is no cure."

"How do you expect me to just accept that?" Destry demanded, a tear streaking down her cheek. "How am I supposed to watch my only child die?"

"I don't know..." Iliya whispered, frowning. A wave of numb tension washed through her. "But I promise you, if Sorein isn't allowed a fair trial, I will expose myself."

Destry shook her head. "I was hoping you wouldn't start making threats."

Her mother stepped back over to the vials on the wall and pressed one of the shiny blue buttons.

Iliya watched with bated breath as more golden liquid poured down the tube and into her body. Thrashing against the bed, her bandages acted as bindings to hold her in place.

The sedative began to kick in, ushering her limps into a slack surrender.

"What... are you doing...?" Iliya spoke through gritted teeth.

"I am doing what's best for you and for Chiori Faire."

Iliya's lids grew heavy with sleep, blinking once only to find her mother had disappeared. Alone. She was alone. Her brain continued to shut down.

"Get it out..." she breathed into the air, begging anyone who could hear her. "Get it out–"

She struggled against the darkness, garbled words barely escaping her lips. Every ounce of her being was fueled by the desire to fight off this strange tonic coursing through her.

Iliya recited those three words over and over again, through the strange dreams and shadows preying on her from the corners.

She had no idea how many times she'd lost consciousness before she heard footsteps.

"Illie?" A worried voice asked. "Oh Gods, Iliya what's wrong?"

Masculine. The wide shoulders and brown hair were blurry, hazel eyes raking over her frantically. Familiar but skewed enough her mind was forced to trudge into the sands of memory just to sort out her thoughts.

"Get it out," she slurred, her head rolling to the side.

"Tell me what to do," he begged, firm hands gripping her shoulders. "Iliya, what do I do? Tell me what to do!"

Rhydian.

She didn't want Rhydian to see her like this.

"Blue button," Iliya mumbled, her tongue beginning to feel full and swollen. "She– the blue button."

The touch left her, clinking echoing in the silence. He was rampaging, swatting away the thin tubes and vials.

"I don't see it," he muttered angrily. "I can't find it, Illie."

Sucking in a deep breath, Iliya used the exhale to her advantage. "The tubes, take them out. Golden liquid."

Rhydian pulled a handful of the lines out of her, sharp pain stabbing her skin for only a moment before a soreness took over.

Iliya slumped into the sheets with a heavy sigh, her breathing turning shallow again.

"What happened?"

She shook her head, swallowing roughly.

"Illie, please..."

Steadying herself, exhaustion swathed her.

"Watch out for Sorein," she murmured, dropping her hand on top of his. "Find him, make sure– don't let Destry do this."

"What are you talking about?"

Iliya's thumb brushed over the soft surface of her cousin's skin, a faint smile tugging at her lips. Warm and comforting. The edges of her mind were fuzzy.

"I'm not leaving you," he said, his voice breaking.

"I'm not dying, Briathyn."

She wouldn't – not when she didn't know Destry's plans.

Rhydian huffed a laugh. "You never could pronounce Coldyrii."

Her smile grew, but Iliya only shook her head. Admittedly as a child, she'd had a harder time with the Therian word. However, the older she got, the more the reason shifted to the way they were raised.

"I can say Coldyrii just fine."

"Then why?"

"You're a brother to me."

He brushed the hair out of her face, sighing. His frustration disguised his laughter well.

"Get some rest, Illie."

She nodded, fading as she felt the weight of her bedding shift. Her eyes closed, feeling safe with Rhydian watching over her.

The urgent thundering of panic subsided long enough for her to take a nap.

~ 🔮 ~

When Iliya's eyes opened again, Rhydian was snoring in the chair Noah had once lounged in. He'd half fallen off the arm, his hair hanging over his eyes.

She chuckled to herself, quickly reminded of the pain in her abdomen and lungs.

Aida must've smiled upon her.

Her muscles protested as she pivoted her mummified frame off the bed.

Rhydian must've been guarding her room from the outside, but now that he was asleep, this was her chance.

Each step burned a new part of her body, the ache threatening to knock the air from her lungs. Opening the closet door as silently as she could, Iliya grabbed one of the spare robes and wrapped it over her shoulders.

The silky fabric provided relief from her burns and scrapes.

With one last look at her sleeping cousin, Iliya crept out of the Infirmary. She skillfully dodged one of the night healers and slipped into the hallway, where few guards stayed.

She crouched low, using the window's reflection to peek around the corner into the game room. Her moonlit reflection stared back at her, disheveled auburn hair and pallid skin glowing against the bandages strapped over her torso and legs. One arm was completely cast with soft canvas, the burns stretching as she flexed her forearm.

The left.

Where her runes still seared her skin.

Iliya thought she looked like a madwoman returning from the grave, maybe she was.

A storm was brewing in the distance, dark clouds closing in from the horizon and sweeping away starlight. She never remembered the Estate so dark, but the quiet fueled her search.

She snuck past the game room and up the spiral staircase where she knew her mothers office would be. Instead she was met with Ezre's door open a crack.

"No, it's not ready yet–" he paused mid sentence, grumbling to himself. "Do you really think I foresaw this?"

Iliya frowned, waiting to hear another voice.

"-no, she's not going to- no, no, listen to me!"

Her mouth went dry wondering who he was talking about until Ezre lashed out again.

"You've lost your mind if you think you have any idea how to-! Ship or no, Iliya will not be some experiment–"

She heard her heart pound inside her skull, the throbbing ebbing down into her fingertips. Ezre rarely raised his voice. He preferred cold, calculated decimation.

Whoever climbed underneath his skin must be close to him.

Iliya slid down against the wall, pressing her knees into her chest and holding her breath.

"Of course not, but this isn't the solution. Sorein's trial will provide the perfect cover for Destry to regain control and even–" another long pause had Iliya straining her Fae hearing. Deep, male laughter rumbled through Ezre's study. "-the decision has been made. Iliya hasn't left her suite in over two years, I don't know why now–"

She scoffed at his implication, grunting as her knees barked with pain.

Iliya crawled past the office and headed for Destry's workroom. The door was shut, no light shining beneath the door. Slowly, she retreated, pausing beside Ezre's door one last time.

He sighed, his silhouette leaning back in a large brown chair. "Once the boy is prosecuted, we can pick up where we left off. Yes. Yes, I know," Ezre muttered, defeat leaking into his voice. "Some of the citizens are demanding a Ritual..."

The ground swirled beneath her vision, body trembling as reality collided with her foolish idealism. Men and women were demanding he be given to the Gods by pyre. Once the Ritual was complete he would be purified of his sins, yet so would his life.

No...

No, no, please no...

Iliya swallowed back rushes of bile as she stumbled down the stairs. Her legs collapsed as she broke into the ballroom, tremors stealing control of her extremities. She ignored the aching of her wounds and pushed forward, standing up only to stagger into the nearest banister.

Haunted by the glass portraits of Aida and Taranis, tears streamed down her face as Iliya looked upon the Aphyre.

Her eyes tracked the story of creation, skimming past the light and joy until they finally landed on Heithos and his protection of the Afterworld. The young God banished his father, Peruk, into the Underworld with his final moments on this plane.

Where were these Deities now?

Why was there no one to save her from this?

"Iliya?"

She felt her heart thunder and crack in one swift blow, just like the growing storm outside.

Iliya twisted to see the tall silhouette looming behind her, lightning flashing against the midnight hair and silver eyes.

Yet when she blinked, Sorein was not in front of her.

Iliya was paralyzed as Noah stared at her with concern. His brown eyes flickered over her ravaged frame, dismayed by her strange actions.

"How are you even standing?"

She didn't know.

She didn't even know how to answer.

He approached her as tears continued to stream down her face, resting a hand on her shoulder. "What?"

Noah's grip tightened around her arm as footsteps echoed against the stairs, pivoting quickly and pulling her under the stairwell.

"So foolish, Illie," he grunted. "What if someone caught you?'

Iliya moved without thinking, resting her forehead on Noah's chest and taking a deep breath.

"We need a plan. Now."