Chapter 44: 44 - Ripples

“General,” Verum called to her from his throne, beckoning her closer before the morning meeting. She obliged with a bow. “Callida, I’ve been wanting to ask you about your trip since you got back. What did you think of the temple?”

“You don’t want to ask me that, Verum.” Callida’s brooding, blank expression pinched, her eyes filling with shadows, and Verum frowned. If he were being honest, he couldn’t care less what Callida thought about the North Temple, but she was acting…. She hadn’t been herself ever since she’d returned. It had been over a week, and she was still distracted and distant. The darkness in her eyes was ever present, and he’d overheard some of his councilmen worriedly talking about it in hushed voices the other day.

“What happened? Is everything ok with your boys?”

“They’re fine.”

“Is…” he hesitated. “Is everything ok with… with Qiangde?”

“Yes.”

Her clipped responses gave him pause. Were they clipped because she was lying or because she was hiding something else that she didn’t want to discuss? Or was she simply in a bad mood? “No lies, no hidden meanings?” he prompted quietly.

“No lies. No hidden meanings. My family is fine.”

“Good,” Verum acknowledged, still frowning, but unsure of how else to approach her surliness. He sat back in his throne and looked her over. She was tense, her expression still willfully neutral. But it was the hellfire in her eyes that was really bothering him. Her eyes only got that dark when she was beyond angry or preparing herself to kill someone. She reminded him of a snake, coiled up, ready to strike, but at what?! He decided on a direct approach. “Callida, what’s wrong?”

“What do you mean?” she asked, her voice transitioning to become cold — guarded, suspicious, with an undercurrent of violence and…. Verum studied his friend long and hard, trying to identify the emotions hiding beneath the surface. She uncomfortably looked away, her face resetting. “What do you want, Verum?” Even her tone had ironed out. Verum had seen enough to make a guess.

“Who’s dead?”

She scoffed, an action that bared her teeth in a secondary snarl, and her coiled posture slackened in defeat and then became even tighter in rapid succession.

His own expression now a numb neutral, Verum stabbed in the dark a second time. “Did you kill them?”

The darkness in her eyes intensified as she glared up at him through her eyebrows. The muscles in her jaw twitched, and a hatred unlike any he’d ever seen in her before burned ominously up at him. He shuddered and his voice dropped to a low whisper.

“How many did you kill?”

“You know better than to ask me that,” came the return hiss.

“Why did you kill them, then?”

Tears welled up through a villainous smirk. “They threatened my family and killed my sons’ nurses.”

“Who did?”

“The temple Guardians.”

Verum sat uncomprehendingly staring at his friend, something manic now building in her darkness. “You killed the temple Guardians?! Callida, what happened?!”

“I already told you.”

“Why would they…?!” He recalculated mid-thought in favor of a different question. “If you killed them, then why isn’t it over?”

“It’s different this time.” Before he could come up with more clarifying questions about her cryptic response, Callida inclined her head to him and returned to the western wall, standing stoically — hauntingly — at attention.

He had to work very hard to shake off the after-effects of the conversation so he could open the council meeting. Even then, he couldn’t muster up much more than a nod to Spokesman Legatus who stood to announce the agenda for the meeting while Verum processed his thoughts. Temple Guardians threatening people was unheard of. Attacking and killing people?! Different this time? What does that mean?

***

Soliciting closing remarks on a final issue of taxation from the council before retiring the issue for further consideration, Verum forced himself to focus long enough to jot down a few notes. This was the last item on Legatus’s agenda for the morning meeting, and Verum definitely needed a break to help clear his head. Every time he glanced in Callida’s direction, he was reminded of their pre-meeting conversation and had to refocus all over again.

Verum was just about to dismiss the council when the throne room doors opened, and a soldier walked in, bowing deeply to him, to deliver a message.

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The Guardians of the Eternal Sun Order from the North Temple to the Lion Primordial respectfully request a brief audience with His Majesty, the Lion King.

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Normally, Verum would find such a request odd and intriguing. Today, however, his stomach did a backflip, and his eyes darted to Callida who was staring absently over the heads of his councilmen. He spent a much longer time debating whether to permit the Guardians entrance, but then, if there was to be confrontation with the Guardians, he’d rather that Callida was present should things go poorly. And what were the odds that this visit had nothing to do with her in the first place? Verum glanced apologetically at his oblivious friend and gave the nod of approval to escort the Guardians in.

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The doors opened, and Verum watched Callida’s response to the arriving guests in his peripherals. Her eyes widened, her body tensed, and she… retreated? That was not what he was expecting. She looked shocked and afraid more than angry or bloodthirsty.

“Your Majesty,” a tall woman leading the group of three inclined her head in a shallow bow of acknowledgement. “Thank you for granting our request. I am Guardian Sotera of the North Temple to the Lion Primordial and the head of the Eternal Sun Order.”

“What brings you to the palace, Guardian Sotera?” Verum asked delicately.

“We are here to return some property to the Lion General, Your Majesty,” Sotera explained. “She recently came to visit the North Temple and had to leave quickly, leaving many belongings behind. We were hoping that you might be able to direct us to her.”

Scowling with concern, Verum glanced to his right, meeting Callida’s panic-stricken eyes. The Guardians, for better or worse, followed his gaze and immediately reoriented to address the Lion General directly.

“Forgive us. I did not realize that you were here,” Guardian Sotera said. Verum watched as the three Guardians approached his bewildered friend, getting close before synchronously prostrating themselves before her. “We come to submit ourselves and swear our loyalty to the Mother of Prophecy and her family. We are your humble servants.”

Verum rose to his feet, as did much of his council. While Verum was staring wide-eyed at a triggered and cowering Callida, his council started shouting in disapproval, indignation, and outright anger. Yet the Guardians remained undeterred, their foreheads planted on the tile beneath them.

Callida bolted. Verum watched her leave at a dead run and sank back onto his throne. The effort to process these proceedings was ponderous. Verum’s own thoughts drowned out the cacophony of the council, but none of his thoughts were cohesive enough to be articulated. As they struggled to congeal into something sensical, the council’s screaming grew loud again. “THAT’S ENOUGH!” he roared over the tirade, the council hushed, and Verum stood up to address the Guardians still prostrate on the floor. “Guardians, the Lion General has left. Rise and explain yourselves.”

“Our lady has not given her permission for us to rise.”

Verum took a moment to massage the exasperation out of his face before speaking again. “Your lady happens to be my best friend, and I know for a fact that she didn’t want you to bow down to her in the first place. Get up.”

Grudgingly the Guardians lifted to their knees, Sotera’s face lined with a frown of worry. “Our intention was not to offend the Mother of Prophecy.” That title was distracting. The Mother of Prophecy. Verum recognized it, shocked to hear it applied to his friend, and slouched further into his seat as his council began to once again mutter angrily to his left.

“Traitors!” someone shouted, and soon the rest of the council was calling for a trial and executions.

“ENOUGH!” Verum had to shout again. “They are not traitors. They are Guardians of the North Temple, and as such, they are exempt by law from the requirements of sovereign allegiance. By definition they cannot be called or, therefore, tried as traitors.”

“Then try the Lion General in their place!”

“ON WHAT GROUNDS!” Verum roared, flying to his feet.

“Sedition!”

“Inciting rebellion!”

“Insurrection!”

“Treason!”

“GENERAL YUDHA IS NOT A PARTY TO THIS INSANITY!” Verum told them off. “She did nothing more than stand there and walk out because their allegiance made her uncomfortable. Now sit down!” While the browbeaten council sank into their seats, Guardian Sotera began laughing, utterly delighted for reasons Verum could not even begin to fathom. He turned to glare at her. “How can you laugh at a moment like this?!”

“It is glorious to see the prophecy unfold,” Sotera declared, her hands clasping reverently in front of her. “‘The Parents of Prophecy shall be the subjects of great love and great hatred,’” she quoted a reference only she knew, one hand first gesturing to Verum, the other then gesturing to the council. “It is beautiful — exactly as the prophecy foretold.”

“Well, that settles it then,” Verum snarked, his expression dropping from falsely pleasant into a cranky snarl as he rounded on the council spokesman. “Legatus, we’ve addressed everything on the agenda, correct?”

“Yes, Sire.”

“Then you’re all dismissed. Get out.” Primordials, Callida! What else haven’t you told me?

***

The nursery doors swung open a little too forcefully, and Rogue startled, surprised to find Callida standing framed in the doorway. He knew in an instant that something was wrong — very, very wrong. Without a word, Rogue passed Tajam off to one of the new nurses, and redirected his wife out of the room. He had to physically guide her down the hallway and into their bedroom. She moved stiffly, not in defiance, but almost as though she lacked control over her own body.

“Callida, what’s wrong?”

She didn’t respond, and it became apparent pretty quickly that she couldn’t respond. She was choking on her own terror — her eyes wide, blank and flooded, her body rigid in a stalled fight or flight response, her face contorted with fear. He set a finger against her throat, tapping her pulse and finding it erratic and violent, her breath also coming in rapid, strangled gasps.

And he had no idea what to do. Wrapping her in an awkward hug only seemed to make things worse. She tensed somehow further, fighting the restraining embrace. But he needed to break her out of her paralysis, get her higher brain functions to take control again. He ran through a short list of terrible options: appeal to her passionate nature by kissing her (that would only succeed in increasing that feeling of being restrained and he didn’t really want to associate her terror with… that), snap her out of things by inflicting just enough pain to return her senses to her (and would likely get himself killed in her current state of fight or flight), let Shyaam connect with Goldie and try to calm her from the inside out (but Shyaam’s instincts told him that would also be suicide). He had never seen Callida in a state like this before, and she wasn’t exactly a normal patient suffering from a panic attack. Make the wrong move, and an out-of-control Callida might snap. He was left trying to coax her down verbally, providing scant physical comfort in whatever ways she would allow while she fought through her demons alone.

“Be still, Callida. I’m here. You’re safe. I’m safe. The boys are safe. It’s ok. We’re all ok.” He pulled the tie out of her tight updo, loosing her waves to tumble down her back so he could gently tug and run his fingers through her hair. “You’re ok, M’lady. Be still.”

He wasn’t sure how long they stood there, but at long last, Callida’s tension broke with a sharp sob. He took the opportunity to take her pain away from her, and Rogue set his hand between her shoulder blades to make the connection that would allow him to flood her being with an oppressive calm. He witnessed only briefly how worked up Goldie was in Callida’s chest before she latched onto the comfort he was offering her, and Callida collapsed unconscious against him. Gathering her up in his arms, Rogue carried Callida to the bed, removed her weapons belt, boots, and doublet for comfort, and wrapped her snuggly in a blanket to rest.

Rogue sat next to her and continued to play mindlessly with her hair as he watched her sleep. It seemed inevitable that this moment would come after everything she’d been through. Callida was impossibly tough, but everyone has limits; it was apparent that she’d finally found hers. He’d have to ask her about what had triggered this episode when she woke up, but in the meantime, Rogue took comfort from curling up on the pillow next to her, draping an arm around her waist, and kissing her cheek. He couldn’t take her demons away, but he could do his best to not be one of them.