210. The Spider Lily
“And that is basically what we found yesterday,” Friederich concluded, his voice echoing in the sudden quiet of the chamber.
A wave of reactions rippled through the audience. Grimaces of dejection. The stressed scrape of hands over tired faces.
Uncertain, Friederich stole a glance at Ziyue. She simply motioned a zip across her lips, a silent promise to keep her part of the story to herself.
Zetius crossed his arms, closing his eyes in deep contemplation. There were not enough clues to form any real conclusion. One detail, however, snagged in his mind: the tapestry on the wall. It looked ancient, yet it depicted his master with an impossible, intimate detail. How?
A soft nudge from Aurelia’s palm pulled him from his thoughts. He realised, with a start, that the meeting had been adjourned.
“Zetius… I need to go to another meeting,” Aurelia whispered. Her words were laced with urgency, but her gaze lingered, unwilling to leave while he was lost in oblivion.
“I'm fine.” Zetius bowed, not just to Aurelia, but to her father as well. “Pardon my prior rudeness.”
The Prime Minister nodded with understanding before departing with the other officials.
“Are you sure?” Aurelia asked, her reluctance plain.
“Affirmative,” he clipped.
People began to line out of the theatre. Zetius watched Aurelia rejoin Friederich, their chatter echoing softly as they disappeared through the door. He was the last to move.
“Cubie, wake up!” Zetius tapped his sternum. After a few seconds of silence, he called her again.
A long, vibrating groan answered from within him. “I’m sleeeeeeeepy.”
It was no use. “Okay, Cubie. Stay slotted in then.”
“Night…” she drawled, her consciousness fading back into hibernation. That’s the first time I’ve seen her this tired. Isn’t she just lazy? Or maybe because of my insomnia… He discarded the thought soon after.
As he exited, he found two least expected people awaiting him. Ziyue was leaning against the wall, while the Celestius of Sagittarius stood poised in the middle of the hallway.
Zetius raised his brows, eyes twitched. What do they want now?
“Hey, Zetius,” Ziyue said. Her tone had hardened, and he knew instantly that something sombre was coming.
He spun to confront her. “What do you want?” His own voice was sharp. Last he checked, she was the one who had been avoiding him. Pettiness took hold of his heart.
Not cool. He regretted it instantly.
“Well, Uncle. Man up!” She slapped Jovian’s lower back. The man yelped, snapping into a rigid posture.
“I guess it’s better sooner than later,” Jovian scratched his brow with his thumb, his expression unreadable.
Then, his body blurred.
The next thing Zetius knew, the Celestius of Sagittarius was kneeling on the ground.
Zetius’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“Zetius Zel Celerius! I apologise for the trouble I have caused!” Jovian shouted before slamming his forehead into the metal floor. The loud clank startled the few remaining people in the hallway.
A dogeza?!
Embarrassed and utterly confused, Zetius stumbled back. A Celestius? Apologising to me? In that posture? Is he serious?
“Celestius?” Zetius began, “If this is about the Primordial Essence, I understand—”
“Apparently, he did your girl dirty,” Ziyue exhaled sharply, shrugging. Then her figure stiffened, shifting into a serious tone. “I didn’t know, Zetius… When I already learnt about it, it was already too late.”
She swept a fierce glare across the hallway, scattering the curious onlookers. It worked like a charm.
“My girl? Lupus?” Zetius stammered, tilting his head.
“Yeah. She’s your wife, isn’t she?” Ziyue probed, her brow furrowed.
“Y~yes… But I don’t understand.” Zetius rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to piece things together.
“Twisted Fates, as it may be,” Ziyue said firmly. “Remember Porand’s border? It was my uncle and I who ran into your party. The lioness and the bunny girl.”
Zetius nodded, recalling the story Frain had told him. “Yes… Frain told me about it.”
“Ahem!” Jovian, still kneeling, interjected. “During the rehab at Poranthis, I was the one who trained her. To my defence, I saw a profound power within her. One that could rival a Celestius’s prowess.” A genuine spark simmered in Jovian’s amethyst eyes.
“What’s going on? Is she okay?” Zetius asked, his voice trembling.
“She’s fine. Stronger than she’s ever been.” Jovian’s crooked smile widened.
“Uncle!” Ziyue warned, closing her eyes in discontent. “Tell him everything, like we discussed.”
“What?” Zetius’s agitation grew, desperate for answers.
Jovian crossed his arms, his tone turning cryptic. “Zetius… You were the Prime Disciple of Ares. Surely, you understand what makes the strongest fuel to tip an arcane equation?”
“Profound emotion, in theory, could invoke a powerful output,” Zetius recounted. “Yet my Master… my former Master believed it to be unreliable. Emotion is in a perpetual state of change.”
“Unless,” Jovian countered, “you can crystallise those emotions. We, the Shadowbringers, have ways to cultivate such things.”
“That’s a dangerous game,” Zetius argued.
Jovian lowered his gaze in reverence. “I used the death of your shell as the main driver. The purest form of hate is vengeance. The shadow you met…”
“The Umbral Executioner,” Ziyue added coldly.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
The revelation hit him like a tsunami; his knees almost gave out. Zetius gritted his teeth, his fists curling into violent, trembling balls.
It all made sense now. What Lupus had become. She was unmade by grief, fuelled by hate, her sole mission twisted into revenge. Because of you…
“Zetius…” Ziyue reached out a reluctant hand.
He took a deep breath, hissing air through his nose.
“Hasn’t she suffered enough!?” Zetius boomed. Sparks of electricity crackled from his hands, causing the others to stare, dumbfounded. Ziyue’s eyes widened, her lips parted. Even she was scared of him.
Breathe… Zetius reminded himself.
As he wrestled his emotions back under control, the sparks dissipated. Just as he had discovered Astrapyion, his wraith defied the rules of Arcane. Now I understand what Celestius Jovian was trying to achieve.
“I can’t defeat Ignius alone, Zetius,” Jovian spoke up, his eyes laced with regret. “He is stronger than he has ever been, wielding a godlike power he doesn’t own. We need all strength…”
Jovian’s pleas faded into the back of his mind.
“I know.” Zetius clipped his word, spinning away. He wanted to run, to stop hearing this, to escape the vertigo.
How can I blame a man who is desperate to save the world? Ignius would unmake everything, reset civilisation.
He was, after all, the moon breaker.
Zetius hated to admit that Jovian was right. His hand traced the cold steel of the wall.
“Um… Where are you going?” Ziyue asked, frowning deeply.
“You have said your piece. And she’s alive, isn’t she?” Zetius spoke without turning, his words as cold as ice.
Bewildered, Jovian shrugged at Ziyue, who slapped his shoulder forcefully in response. The man had confessed his sin, expecting retribution, but none came.
It wasn’t as if Lupus didn’t have a choice; nothing was ever black and white. She could have chosen to go home, to find Frain. Yet, she did not. She left our surrogate daughter behind in Hasenwald so she could hunt for revenge.
Questions coiled in his mind like a slow, deadly poison.
His thoughts were a maelstrom of dismay. I shouldn’t have sent them on that mission. I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have…
I can fix her. Only, I can fix her. Lupy…
“Zetius!” A female voice shouted, and he felt her rush to support him. He hadn’t realised he was hyperventilating, sweat plastering his hair to his head.
“Hmmm… What is going on…?” The voice inside him stirred.
“Go back to sleep, Cubie. I’m fine,” Zetius muttered through gritted teeth, squeezing his eyes shut.
“Zetius… no…” Her voice distorted as he forced her through his mind. Then she became silent.
“Zetius!” Ziyue yanked his arm, her hands wrapping around it tightly. Her purple eyes stared at his face, filled with deep concern. She wanted to scream that she cared, but no words felt right. In moments like these, she felt powerless.
But this time, she wouldn’t give up. Her eyes kept searching his.
Eventually, their gazes met. As if her prayer had reached him, Zetius stilled.
The long, silent stare ended as he snapped his head away, a long silver bang obscuring his eyes.
“Why are you even here, Ziyue…?” he whispered.
“Zetius… I…” She couldn’t find the words. Still, she didn’t let go, her fingers digging into the fabric of his coat. She couldn’t let him go. Not now.
“I’m sorry. I sound like a jerk right now,” Zetius mumbled, biting down on his molars.
“Can we talk?” Ziyue suggested, her voice softening, so unlike her. “Just the two of us.”
The afternoon air on the vessel’s topside was warm and slightly humid, but the perpetual wind kept it fresh. At one of the quieter observation platforms, two figures stood in silence.
Zetius placed his arms on the metal guardrails, the surface already showing the first signs of rust. It was clearly a part of the massive vessel where maintenance was neglected.
For a long time, they just watched the passing clouds. The white contrails of Armatus mobile suits and cruisers on patrol were also visible, scarring the blue canvas of the sky.
Zetius’s mind entered the state of emptiness, his agitation chipped away.
“I’m sorry,” Ziyue was the first to speak. “I haven’t answered your message.”
Zetius stole a glance at her. “Just say you were busy,” he said, his tone detached.
“Are you mad at me?” she asked, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
“How could I be?” His voice was steady. “I should be grateful. You saved the most precious people in my life.”
My family.
“Then, we’re good?” Ziyue asked, a hesitant note in her voice.
“Yeah, we’re good,” Zetius clipped.
Unsatisfied, she held out her pinky. “Promise?”
Zetius extended his own pinky and laced it with hers. He didn’t shake it. Instead, he pulled her into an embrace.
Her eyes widened with surprise, but she didn’t resist. How could she when it was something she craved for so long. She melted against him.
“Thank you for saving them, Ziyue,” Zetius whispered into her ear.
“I should have answered your call.” Ziyue bit her lip, inhaling his scent. The fresh, clean, and spicy notes of his perfume filled her lungs as she snuggled closer, her hands brushing against his lower back.
“No need. You’ve done more than enough.” His hands wrapped around her, and he noticed how much thinner she was. “Your nails are overgrown, your dark roots are showing, and you feel thinner.”
His keen observation surprised her. Like a dream, she was lost in a daze.
“No matter how busy you are, you should take care of yourself, Ziyue.” His words were resolute, commanding.
A strange feeling she couldn’t explain bloomed in her chest. She didn’t realise her lips had curled into a smile. Her gaze fell to her Arc boots as she twisted them on the metal floor.
“I will,” she mumbled, the words lost to the wind.
Soon, they parted, exchanging an awkward glance. But then, they were able to look at each other and smile again.
The lost camaraderie returned.
They sat with their backs against one another, their legs outstretching outwards. Ziyue rested her head against his nape, her hair brushing softly against his neck.
“Entertain me, Zetius. How did you get that blue spark?” she asked, her curiosity evident.
“Oh, this?” Zetius flicked his hand, the electricity flared out.
“Yep.”
“Story time,” Zetius began, massaging his hands together. “You know, I was in a coma for three months, wandering in a dreamless realm. Fighting the Knight of Nyx, and I accidentally obtained it.”
“That’s easy?” She raised her blows.
“No. Through profound wrath.”
“Doesn’t make much sense.” Ziyue sighed, “But I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt since you use Dreamless realm.”
“Really? You are more lenient than you look.” He chuckled.
“Um…” Ziyue hummed, her back vibrating with the sound. It felt as if they were truly connected.
“Trying to act aloof, I see,” Zetius teased, closing one eye.
“What?” Ziyue snapped, looking at him, her smile never fading.
“The red spider lily,” Zetius said, recalling the strange vase of flowers by his hospital bedside. “It often signifies death and farewells, but sometimes… reunion.”
“Okay, when did you learn about flowers and their meanings?” She denied it sharply, almost too quickly.
“Since someone finds it so difficult to admit their actions,” Zetius quipped, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “The flower was too distinct to ignore, Ziyue.”
“So you figured it out…” Ziyue closed her eyes, a serene expression on her face.
“Come on, I just wanted to hear it from you,” he pressed, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “It makes the most sense, since you ghosted me.”
“Fine…” she admitted with a low groan. “I visited you during that time.”
Zetius found himself giggling like a child. How long has it been since I felt at ease like this?
“So? You really wanted it to be our last farewell? Were you wishing me dead?” he joked.
“Don’t joke like that.” Playfully, she rammed the back of her head into his.
“Ouch!” he yelped. Her head was thicker than it looked.
“I told you many times that you don’t have the right to die before me,” Ziyue whispered. “Also… I’ve changed my mind.”
“About what?”
“Nothing…” she said, leaning fully against him. “I’m tired, Zetius. Please let me get a bit of shut-eye.”
Understanding, Zetius lent her his back as she dozed off. The past week hadn’t been kind to her; she had been constantly on recon missions. She wasn’t the type to implore lightly, but when she did, she truly needed it.
The quiet moment between them was something neither of them knew they needed.