Tower of Paradise

Chapter 45: Wishful Thinking (2)

POV'S EMILIA LANNISTER

Ask the Emperor what victory tastes like, and he will answer that it tastes of gold and power. Ask the General, and he will assure you it tastes of honor and glory. Ask the soldier, and he will answer that it tastes of women and wine. Ask me, and I will tell you the truth.

Victory tastes of blood and disease, of famine and fire. Its breath carries the scent of ash and death.

I have lived long enough to know that the path of conquest is built upon millions of corpses rotting in the sun, and that it stretches far into the horizon.

Dozens of times I have seen young soldiers march before me who, drunk on patriotic fanaticism, loudly praised heroic deeds of the past. They sang endless hymns and raised majestic banners that waved in the wind. Idiots.

They don't know that the troubadours lie, that their flag is nothing but a rag. Soldiers don't win wars, they just fight them. They kill and die by the sword, in an orgy of broken bones.

Blow after blow, their arms interpret the crusade's song: blade against shield, arrow against armor, mace against helm, and steel against flesh.

And above the clamor of metal, the agonizing screams answer the mute questions: who is vassal to the most powerful Lord? Which of our masters will write History? Which king's greed deserves more sacrifices?

In the center of the room, on a bed of white marble carved with intricate designs of leaves and flowers, lay the small body of my little Cassie, motionless and pale as freshly fallen snow.

This wasn't the girl I remembered. She had lost much weight, her skin was taut over bones as thin as twigs. Her eyes, open but unseeing, were sunken in deep black sockets. She looked like a leaf, as if a breath of wind could carry her to the grave. But, under the fragile ribcage, her chest rose and fell with each weak breath.

I was kneeling beside the bed, my trembling hands caressing her face. My blue eyes, now dim and reddened by the searing pain I felt at this moment.

My long blonde hair, usually immaculate and perfect, fell in disheveled strands over my shoulders, some stuck to my wet cheeks. I wanted to scream, I wanted everything to be a nightmare from which I would soon wake up.

I hadn't moved away from Cassie for a moment. They brought meals to me there, and a cot, though I barely slept. I personally fed her the honey, water, and mixture of herbs that kept her alive.

Foolish girl... These are the consequences of using an ability beyond the user's physical capabilities.

In the end, they made possible what even I believed impossible. That barrier protecting the device wasn't something even I could break.

Despite everything, the escape was far from complete. The control stone that deactivated the teleportation artifact had a hidden mechanism that warned us caretakers that the artifact had been deactivated in the unlikely case that the children had managed it.

In other words, Susan already knew that the children wanted to escape, and she wasn't a woman they could defy.

I hated war. I abhorred it from the depths of my being, but no one would say so. Upon hearing my name, men spat on the ground, women crossed themselves, and children hid under their beds.

Stories tell that I, The Iron Lady, would make the mutants themselves pale in comparison. And they were right.

My goal was to raise intelligent children day after day to be sent to the Parasites. While Cassie naively believed that the Parasites ate children, the truth couldn't be further from reality, I was one of the few who knew the truth.

They were so small. All of them... They used to be so small...

"Don't get attached to her," I told myself again and again.

"Cassie is a child, and you're a monster." If only I were able to follow my own advice, but it was hard not to become fond of the only daughter I had truly loved.

A love that Cassie had reciprocated with all her being, a show of gratitude that someone like me didn't deserve. A love that made me feel better than I had in a long time. She showed me something I had forgotten existed, reminded me that I wasn't always what I am now. It frightened me.

I fought hard to leave everything behind. I couldn't allow myself to become normal again; a sane person couldn't handle my job.

I remembered that back then our laughter spurred each other on, gaining enthusiasm, and soon filled the room with jovial echoes, being able to provide me with an almost miraculous relief.

Her company was so pleasant to me that I felt a pang of regret, in the same way that an adulterer would feel when enjoying a lover, knowing it was a temporary satisfaction that would be paid for dearly later.

I was being unfaithful to solitude, and solitude was a haughty and spiteful partner. It didn't accept being second best, didn't forgive easily. Its revenge would be relentless. I was aware that the more I connected with the child, the harder it would be to separate from her.

Now my image of a perfect mother soon shattered in Cassie's eyes, and she saw me as nothing more than a threat to her and her siblings.

I sighed with remorse while remembering that I liked bonfires.

They were an oasis of peace in a desert of struggles. A refuge that welcomed you at the end of the day and kept fears at bay until the new sun was born. A sun that I hadn't seen in several years. But beyond the glow of the fire, darkness wove its own intrigues.

Back then, bathed in firelight, I witnessed how shadows danced around me, contorting themselves into the grotesque shapes of my inner demons.

In the changing silhouettes, I could see the path I had left behind and, in it, the decisions made, the sacrifices made, and the mistakes committed crawled like snakes trying to reach me. They hadn't disappeared.

They were still there, and they would pursue me for the rest of my life. The dark memories that danced in the night prevented me from clearing my conscience.

I will never expiate my evil acts, never obtain redemption. There was no turning back for me. My only option was to follow to the end the path I had chosen, or the atrocities I had committed would have been in vain.

I sighed with resignation while smiling with contempt. We all had something that pushed us and made us advance toward hell, and usually it wasn't by our own will.

My little Cassie... Let mommy help you one last time.

She had to reach her goal before those gloomy vipers caught her.

This is all I can do.

Please, do your best to escape!

Even if it means fleeing forward, even if new nightmares are born from each step taken. They had to succeed, no matter the price.