Page 4 of A Broken Ember

“And if I come across those who were captured?”

“Consider them Pruned. If they cannot free themselves, they are not Circulus,” Clotho remarked with a wave of her hand. I ground my teeth but didn’t say anything, waiting for Thana to confirm the order. The Janardan hesitated before nodding slowly. I couldn’t imagine a fate worse than to be captured by the De Vita. Leaving those captured wasn’t right, but that wasn’t my call. It was my duty to follow my Janardan’s orders. If this was what she desired, I would see it done.

“How would you like me to infiltrate the clan?” The question made Clotho pause, and the Ruptor caught a flicker of fear pulse through her before she squashed it. Interesting. Not much made my sister afraid, yet she hesitated.

“Your Circle shall be broken.”

I dropped the cutlery I had been holding, the metal clattering to the ground. Clotho spoke as if we discussed the weather.

“What?!” I gaped at my sister. Her face featured no worried creases as she chewed. “I’ve only ever served loyally and faithfully. I’ve done nothing wrong!” My voice rose as I spoke. She couldn’t be serious. I looked at Thana, who wouldn’t meet my eye.

“You’re right. You have been the perfect servant. And you will do this.” Thana’s speech was muffled by the napkin she lightly dabbed her mouth with.

“There has to be another way. They won’t accept the Ruptor among them.” I shook my head. Madness!

“I doubt Odon will discern your identity.” Clotho waved a hand, dismissing my concern.

Perhaps she was right: the leader of the De Vita, the opposing clan to ours, harbored weakness. The De Vita were everything the Circulus wasn’t. They worshiped life, stealing from death, while we maintained the balance as was right in the world. They were fools to allow those who burden them to weigh them down. It would be easy to take them down with their love for vulnerability. The imbalance would be simple to correct, but that wasn’t my order—not yet anyway, making the request all the more intriguing. “Even if he does, he will take anyone in if they are weak or have been Pruned. Why would I weaken my greatest weapon when a bit of deception would serve my purposes better? If he sees that your Circle has been broken, he will trust you. He will believe any lies you tell him.” Clotho folded her napkin and neatly laid it across her lap. Thana still hadn’t looked at me. At either of us. Clotho was the heir, her purpose was to serve the Janardan until she ascended, yet she seemed to be making the decisions.

“And afterward, what? The clan welcomes me back?”

“If you are successful, we shall inform the clan of your mission and celebrate its success.”

My eyes widened. “If?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, but of course Clotho wouldn’t tell the clan her plans. Pride would keep her from acknowledging any failure as her idea. This felt like a punishment, but I had done nothing wrong. It wasn’t that I feared the task. I could find their weakness—that was my purpose—but instead of Pruning it I would use it to exploit them. They would break to keep the Circulus strong. De Vita didn’t scare me. The Circulus, though, had earned my fearful respect. If the Circles were reversed, I wouldn’t forgive a broken Circle regardless of the cause, but they expected the clan to do just that. Still, I wasn't in a position to refuse. To refuse would be an insult that the Janardan would not tolerate. She would break my Circle anyway for disobedience. I had no choice. I had to obey.

Clotho shrugged. “If you aren’t successful, you are weak.” What she left unsaid was clear enough: failure meant I had earned my broken Circle.

Thana blanched, her already pale color lightening. The Ruptor sensed a sliver of fear coming from her. I pursed my lips, waiting for my Janardan to contradict the instructions, but she just… didn’t. I dipped my head slowly, and Clotho grinned, pushing up to stand. “Great. Your Circle will be broken immediately.” Thana inhaled sharply. My heart thundered in my chest.

“Heir, he should be given time to get his affairs in order,” Thana suggested softly, but my sister’s eyes narrowed.

“And what affairs would that be? He has no Entwined, and his role can be my responsibility until his return,” Clotho snapped, making me draw back in surprise. The tension pulsed in the room, creating a potential divide—an opening for weakness to grow that made my hair stand on end. Clotho was right, of course. I had nobody who truly cared for me outside of this room. Sivert, maybe, but that was all. My insides shriveled. The power in me wasn’t enough. I sighed. Clotho could take my place, but it wouldn’t be the same. She may be ruthless, but she didn’t have the Ruptor breathing within her. It was my job to oversee the clan and pick out members who needed to have their Circles completed. I hunted the weak. Thana opened her mouth to protest further, but I held up a hand.

“It’s okay, Janardan.” I meant the words in more ways than one. I didn’t want her to think I held the order against her. It was a good one. De Vita was known to take in the Pruned members of the Circulus. As a Pruned draconis, they would believe I was an outcast and would have less reason to distrust me.

“Claeg…” Thana trailed off, and I glimpsed at the tears she blinked back. That was the closest she would get to showing emotion, showing weakness, for me. My heart jumped in surprise; my attention snapping toward Clotho to see if she caught the flicker of forbidden instability. Luckily, her back was turned as she beckoned me to walk with her. She hadn’t noticed the shortcoming. I stood and followed with my Janardan by my side. I glanced at my leader. The emotion that was there moments ago was wiped away, replaced with a mask. Good. My Circle wasn’t worth shedding tears over.

Chapter 2: Anastasius

My stomach growled viciously, alerting me to a hunger I couldn’t feel, as plate after plate of delicacies was placed before me. Roasted pheasant in a stew of boiled pears, spiced fruitcake, fried ostrich eggs, and honeyed tea. It was a feast suited for me as a prince, and I salivated at the brilliant smells tainting the air, but my heart had other thoughts. I couldn’t get the smell of putrid wounds and rancid breath out of my head. The smell of suffering.

Ercan plated up each of the dishes for me, but I just pushed them around my dish. “Eat, Prince De Vita,” he urged from where he sat across from me. My eyes flicked up to his, seeing the heartache he held there. The violet color was always so striking against his pale skin, but right now, they were glazed over with grief. I bit my lip anxiously. Sometimes I wasn’t sure what to say around the man. He had lost a mate once before, nearly five sun turns ago, on the day his Circles broke. How unfortunate it was that one of his only friends . . .

I shook my head. She couldn’t be helped any more than what Thyia and I were doing for her. What had started as a simple wound to her wings had spiraled into an infestation, worming its way into her flesh. Now, the best I could offer was a tonic for pain—a pathetic offering when my father had the power to heal her and so many others, but he kept that magic close to his chest, unwilling to share the power with anyone—to keep our dwindling supply of magic from Hen for himself. Selfish bastard. I wasn’t the only one who resented the fact. Others had begged him for mercy he wouldn’t give. Mercy which I had failed to obtain for them when I let Hen leave me without the answer to their pain.

“You are doing everything you can, Prince Anastasius,” Ercan reached across the table to take my hand, which lay uselessly clutching my cutlery. Despite our friendship, he insisted upon using my title, even when we were alone. I looked up at the man whom I admired so much.

I opened my mouth to reply, but the door opened, interrupting our breakfast. Only a few people would dare enter without knocking. My eyes flicked over to the door, expecting to see my father, but I relaxed a little upon seeing my mother. Ercan subtly shifted to hide the magical ring I had given him.

“Anastasius,” she greeted me with a dip of her head. The jewels adorning her neck were excessive this morning. She wore a dainty purple dress that brought out the natural shine to her wavy hair which absorbed the morning sun. All of the accessories were unappreciated gifts obtained through the magic Hen had introduced us to. My insides twisted at the reminder of my lost friend. Her final words echoed within me.

You’re a blind coward, Prince Anastasius.

I withheld a sigh and blinked back tears before turning my attention back to my mother.

“Ercan.” She smiled respectfully. Ercan had earned his place among us, but most regarded him with no more tolerance than a slippery whore. My mother was the exception, although I suspected she just appreciated his submission. “Are you well?” Her politeness set me at ease as she took a seat at the small square table in my room. She looked at my untouched food and gestured for me to eat. I released Ercan’s hand to stab at a boiled pear with a sigh.

“Yes, Lady De Vita, thank you.” Ercan stood. He served my mother a plate of the feast.

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