Only fools cling to love that's slipped away; it's like holding onto sand that slips through your fingers.
Only Fools
We made our way back to our quarters in heavy silence, the tension from the arena still clinging to us like a shroud. No one spoke, the air thick with unspoken thoughts and a weariness that went beyond mere exhaustion. As soon as we entered the living room, I vanished into my room, returning just a second later with a red box in my hand. I set it down on the table, popped open the lock, and pulled out a disinfectant and a bandaid.
Rolo looked up as I approached, eyes a little wider than usual, but he didn't protest. I sat him down, keeping my movements brisk and efficient as I dabbed disinfectant onto a cloth. Rolo didn't flinch, but I noticed his eyes squint slightly as the liquid touched his cut. I worked quickly, not wanting to drag out the moment any longer than necessary.
"Sorry," I muttered under my breath, pressing the bandaid over the cut with a practiced hand. "I'll demand a potion from Livius as well."
Rolo waved a hand dismissively. "No, it's okay. It's just a cut."
I frowned, unsure. "I don't know if it will leave a scar or not." The truth hung heavy in my words—I had no idea. My own wounds never left scars, healing almost instantly, but this was different.
Rolo shrugged, trying to downplay it. "It probably won't."
We both knew he was guessing, but for now, it was the reassurance we both needed. I lingered for a second longer, then stood up, giving him a final pat on the shoulder. This wasn't just about the wound. It was about making sure he knew I had his back—always.
After tending to Rolo's cut, I stood up and brushed my hands off.
"Start packing," I said, my tone firmer than I intended. "We're leaving sooner than expected."
Rolo and Mose exchanged glances, but neither argued. Mose, ever the anxious one, hesitated for a moment before going to his room.
I dropped into the armchair, leaning back with a weary sigh. Mose poked his head out, still holding his half-packed bag. "Aren't you going to pack?" he asked, his brow furrowed.
I smirked, shaking my head. "I never unpack when I visit a place." There was no point. Unpacking meant getting comfortable, and I never stayed comfortable anywhere but home.
I pulled out my phone, tapping out a message to Alex:
[Change of plans. We'll be back earlier than expected—probably around lunchtime.]
The reply was almost immediate:
Personal Masterchef: [What happened?]
I stared at the question for a second, pondering how to sum up the mess of last night and this morning. But an idea struck, and I called out, "Rolo, come here for a sec."
Rolo poked his head out, looking a bit confused. "What?"
I gestured him closer. "Come here and make the most miserable face you can muster."
He blinked, clearly bewildered, but did as I asked, pulling his features into an exaggeratedly pathetic look, complete with droopy eyes and a pout. It was so over-the-top that I almost laughed. I snapped a quick picture and sent it to Alex with the caption:
[One of Livius's apprentices bullied our problem child relentlessly. Today, he even cut him! Look at him, looking so miserable.]
A few seconds passed before Alex's response appeared:
Personal Masterchef: [I don't believe a word of that.]
[It's true,] I wrote, [But I'll elaborate when we get home. First, I need to collect compensation from Livius.]
Alex's reply came in quickly, blunt and to the point:
Personal Masterchef: [Suck him dry, mate.]
I chuckled softly at that. Alex always knew exactly what to say, and honestly, it was the best advice I'd gotten all day.
I leaned back in the armchair, my fingers tapping away at my phone screen as I composed a quick message to Lil:
[Almost waged war against Livius today.]
The response came swiftly:
Trouble's Chauffeur: [What? Are you serious?]
I could practically hear the mix of shock and irritation in her voice, even through text.
I smirked, replying:
[One of Livius's apprentices made an attempt on my life. So, I had no choice. I even tried to let Livius save some face by challenging that kid to a life-and-death duel instead of just finishing him off on the spot like any self-respecting monster would've done.]
Lil took a moment before responding.
Trouble's Chauffeur: [Which idiot apprentice was it?]
That question surprised me. I hadn't expected her to be so interested in the specifics. I paused briefly before typing: [It was Jareth.]
Trouble's Chauffeur: [Ah. That explains things.]
I frowned at the screen. Lil's response seemed too knowing, almost like she'd been expecting this.
[Do you know him?] I asked.
Trouble's Chauffeur: [Not him, exactly] she wrote back. [but I know his family and his story. Livius saved him from a pretty abusive bunch of crazy mages. His family went nuts using black magic recklessly, and Jareth was the unlucky inheritor of all that mess.]
I rolled my eyes.
[I'm not interested in the kid's sob story] I typed back quickly. [But tell me, Lil, are you really not worried about me?🥺] I threw in a pleading emoji for good measure, knowing it would annoy her just enough.
Her reply was immediate and snarky:
Trouble's Chauffeur: [Nope. I don't need to worry about a king's life at all.]
I grinned, feigning mock pain as I typed my response. [Ouch, Lil. You really broke my heart with that one.]
Trouble's Chauffeur: [You'll survive] she shot back, clearly unimpressed with my theatrics.
I chuckled softly, slipping the phone into my pocket. She didn't coddle, didn't fret unnecessarily—just the kind of attitude I needed right now.
I sat in the armchair, scrolling through my messages with half-hearted attention, still feeling the adrenaline of the day's events humming beneath my skin. Mose was in his room, probably packing, and Rolo was sprawled on the couch with playing with his phone.
A sharp knock on the door snapped us all out of our thoughts. Rolo bolted upright, and Mose peeked out of his room, looking worried. I gave Rolo a look, signaling him to sit back down.
I opened the door, and there stood Livius, dressed in a simple robe, his expression somewhere between sheepish and determined. Clearly, this wasn't a casual visit.
"Shay," he said, voice low and almost hesitant, which was unlike him. "I was hoping we could talk."
I leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, staring at him with a cool expression. "You have something to say? I'm listening."
Livius glanced behind me, catching a glimpse of Rolo and Mose. He looked slightly uneasy, like he didn't want an audience for whatever this was. "Could we go somewhere more... private? The observatory, perhaps?"
I glanced back at my friends, both of them watching with thinly veiled curiosity.
"Finish packing," I said to them. "We'll leave shortly."
"Fine." I shrugged, stepping out and closing the door behind me.
The observatory was as vast and imposing as ever, a domed ceiling stretching overhead letting the morning light flood in with an almost regal grandeur. Where the night had once cast a silvery glow, transforming the glass into a celestial dome, the day now turned it into a canvas of vivid blues and golds, casting shimmering patterns across the floor. The delicate interplay of light and shadow created a tranquil beauty, yet it also stripped the room of its previous ethereal, otherworldly feel.
Livius led the way. As I entered, the sunlight struck the glass ceiling, refracting into a dazzling array of colors that danced across the room. Livius stood by the one of the benches, his figure silhouetted against the brilliance of the morning. He seemed more human, more vulnerable in the stark daylight.
Livius didn't immediately turn to face me. Instead, he gazed out of the dome, the morning light highlighting the weariness etched into his features. When he finally spoke, his voice carried a tone of regret, resonating with the clarity of the day.
"I never imagined it would come to this," Livius began, his voice tinged with a weary resolve. "The confrontation, the duel… Jareth."
"Funny how your imagination falls short when it comes to your own mess," I retorted, crossing my arms as I took in the transformed space. "But you didn't call me out here to state the obvious. So why am I here?"
He sighed deeply, finally turning to face me. The daylight revealed every line of stress and regret on his face. "I brought you here to apologize. And to make things right." He stepped closer, his eyes searching mine. "What happened… I never intended for things to escalate so far. Jareth's actions were reckless, and I should have kept a closer watch."
"And yet, here we are," I said, my tone cutting through the morning's calm. "With your apprentice trying to kill me in my sleep and my friend nearly getting shot. If this is your idea of control, I'd hate to see what chaos looks like."
Livius's expression hardened slightly but remained calm. "I know you're angry. You have every right to be. But you need to understand—Jareth's life wasn't easy before he came under my protection. I saved him from a broken family and tried to guide him, but clearly, I've failed."
I scoffed, the morning light revealing every flaw in his argument. "So this is about pity now? Save the sob story. He's a grown man, responsible for his own actions. The world doesn't care about his tragic backstory when he's aiming a weapon at someone."
Livius's gaze dropped to the floor, the light catching the deep lines of fatigue in his face.
"You've caused quite a stir, Shay," Livius began, his voice strained. "This situation is more complicated than you might think."
I looked at him, my gaze steady. "You're right, Livius. The situation is complicated, but it was caused by your apprentice's actions. An attempt on my life is not something I can just overlook."
Livius sighed deeply. "I understand."
There was something about Livius's fervent defense of Jareth that puzzled me, and I couldn't ignore it any longer.
"Livius," I said, my voice cutting through the silence. He looked up at me."Why do you fight so adamantly for Jareth's life? I understand that he's your apprentice, but he betrayed you. He even offered to provide information about you to me. This entire conflict arose because I rejected his offer."
Livius's eyes narrowed, and a bitter smile touched his lips. "I see."
His response was more subdued than I had anticipated, and I watched as the smile faded, replaced by a look of melancholy. For a moment, he appeared vulnerable—his facade cracked to reveal a more human side beneath. The powerful Sorcerer Lord, usually so composed and unshakeable, seemed to be grappling with emotions that I hadn't seen before.
"Jareth's betrayal was… a blow I didn't expect." Livius said quietly, his voice laced with a hint of sadness. "But he's still my responsibility."
I could see the internal conflict in his eyes, the weight of his decisions pressing heavily on him. In that moment, I understood the weight of his responsibility and the emotional toll it took on him. And in that understanding, I saw a reflection of my own struggles and the protective instincts that drove me.
I took a seat next to Livius on the stone bench, looking up at the glass dome of the observatory. Livius sat silently beside me, his face a mix of bitterness and resignation. I broke the silence, casually stating, "He will betray you again, you know?"
Livius's expression tightened, as if hearing the truth out loud was a blow. He seemed to know it already, but it still hurt. "Wouldn't you also forgive your subjects if they betrayed you?" he asked, his voice tinged with weariness. "Wouldn't you forgive them each time, even if they did it multiple times?"
I shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. "Only fools do that. Not to mention, my subjects wouldn't betray me so easily."
Livius raised an eyebrow. "How are you so sure?"
A smile crept onto my lips as I chuckled softly. "Because I saw it. I saw Liou and Pitou offer everything Rolo wanted if he betrayed me. I watched him reject their offers and fight them, even when he knew he couldn't win. My subjects are all fools."
My subjects are all fools, but in the best way possible.
Livius's face softened.
"That's why I want to protect them," I continued. "Because these fools don't appreciate their lives enough. I try to pamper them because they care about me a lot—so I need to thank them for it."
I looked at him thoughtfully. "But if they did betray me…" I trailed off, my gaze steady. "I would do what you're doing. I'd still fight for them."
Livius's face lit up with a smile. "I'm glad to hear that."
I shook my head with a wry grin. "Don't be glad. You're still a fool."
Livius laughed, the sound genuine and warm. It was good to see him relax a bit, even if it was fleeting. Then, as the laughter faded, he seemed to grow serious again. "Wait… then... you didn't really want to kill Jareth, did you?"
My smile widened, and I leaned back casually. "Who knows?"
Livius's eyes widened with sudden realization. "Wait, then all this... my artifact! My money! Did you scam me?"
I hummed thoughtfully, a mischievous glint in my eyes. "You still need to pay the price, Livius. All your apprentices saw you promise it to me."
Livius pouted, looking exasperated but with a hint of amusement. As the conversation took a more thoughtful turn, I leaned forward, my demeanor shifting to something more serious. The playful atmosphere dissipated, and I felt the weight of the situation settling over us once again.
"Livius," I began, my tone steady and firm, "Jareth still made an attempt on my life. I need compensation to demonstrate that I won't tolerate such actions. But…" I paused, letting the gravity of the situation hang in the air, "what is an artifact in comparison to a life? In the grand scheme of things, Livius, you got off cheap."
Livius's eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of defensiveness crossing his features. "Is this cheap for you?" he asked, clearly unsettled by my blunt assessment.
I met Livius's questioning gaze with a hint of a smirk. "Yep, I was going easy on you," I said, my tone light but carrying an undercurrent of seriousness.
Livius's eyes widened slightly at my words.
"I could have waged war against you," I said, my voice steady and cold. "In such a turbulent time, with so many enemies thirsting for your blood, I wouldn't have had a hard time devouring your kingdom."
Livius swallowed hard, the weight of my words hitting home. His face was a mix of shock and contemplation. "You're serious."
"Absolutely," I confirmed. "I've had enough experience to know that in times of instability, taking advantage of such opportunities is common. But I chose to handle this differently, for the sake of principle and respect."
He studied me, his expression a blend of wariness. "You really would have…"
I turned my gaze back to Livius, who had evidently misinterpreted my earlier remark. His eyes were sharp, a flicker of challenge in them.
"Nope," I replied, shaking my head slightly. "I have enough power as things are now. I don't desire more. But if I did, your kingdom would have been in ruins by now."
Livius's brow furrowed, a mix of disbelief and defiance crossing his face. "You're underestimating me."
I let Livius's challenge hang in the air for a moment.
I chuckled softly, the sound carrying an edge. "Underestimating you? No, Livius, I'm simply assessing the situation accurately."
I leaned back. "I know your weakness," I stated bluntly. "Do you know mine? Do you have any apprentices here who could match me in strength?"
Livius did not reply.
I tilted my head slightly, watching as realization dawned on him. "You were so adamant about forging an alliance with me because you're aware of the threat I am. You already allied with Crimson and the Dwarven Lord. With such allies, Titania wouldn't want to go against you. But you also knew that I wasn't tied to these alliances, which makes me a different kind of threat. I have the freedom to act in ways that others cannot."
Livius's face showed a flicker of unease, his posture stiffening. "And?"
"And," I continued, "you also knew that I am aware of your one true weakness. That's why you're so cautious around me."
Livius's expression hardened.
"That's why I wanted to ask for a long time now," I said, my voice a mix of curiosity. "Why don't you try to lift your curse?"
A bitter smile curled on Livius's lips. "I've known for a long time how to break the curse."
"Then why don't you break it?" I asked, puzzled.
Livius's eyes held a deep sadness as he met my gaze. "My brother... he died on a rainy day. I am weak to water because the curse makes me relive that day's memories. I could break the curse easily. I would just have to erase my brother's existence from my memories."
My eyes widened in shock.
"But I can't bring myself to do it," Livius continued, his smile softening with a profound sadness. "I loved him the most."
The silence that followed was heavy with understanding. I could see the struggle in Livius's eyes, the conflict between his power and his heart. I took a deep breath, trying to process the gravity of his confession. "You are a bigger fool than I expected."
Livius nodded, his expression a mixture of resignation and acceptance. "Yes, I suppose so."
With that, we both turned our gaze back to the vast dome of the observatory, the morning light casting long shadows as we sat in mutual contemplation.