Page 84 of This Cruel Fate

Xolia wiped away any lingering tears before standing and going to the podium. She took in each of the faces that stared blankly at her. Some were more familiar than others. She caught General DuBois’s eye who leveled her with a critical stare.

She swallowed. “Like Vice Chancellor Campion, I, too, am no stranger to war. I am well acquainted with the horrors of humans and variants.” She gripped the stem of the thin mic. “We cannot allow such an act of savagery go unpunished. The country needs to know that their government will protect them. The enemy needs to know that they cannot act without impunity. Ris needs strong and decisive action to ferret out the enemy. If we don’t treat these rebels with the full weight of our armies, everything Peter stood for will fall.”

“You’re suggesting war,” interjected General Perrin. He stood, facing his fellow senators. “We cannot allow Ris to fall into civil unrest. If we seek out the Underlings with war, we will be met with violent protests in the streets.”

“There are already protests in the streets,” Xolia said. Her scar burned. Though it wasn’t from anxiety or insecurity. No, it was a reminder. The pieces slotted into place. Her hardships, the losses, they were all pre-ordained to bring her to this point. “I am the divinely appointed Selermine, I will lead variants and humans down the right path.”

One of the senators scoffed. “You were appointed by a variant religion. One that holds no sway over me.”

Senator Davenport spoke up. “We all saw the video. No normal variant could survive a beheading.”

“It’s not natural,” another said. Xolia couldn’t make out who was talking. “I’ve played nice for seven years. Why do we have to have a variant rise to the role of chancellor at all? A vice chancellor was fine, but we need a human to lead a human-majority country.”

Yelling sprung up around the room. Everyone had something to say, and the shouting only increased with each barbed jab.

None of them were listening to her anymore. None of them were even looking at her anymore. Xolia ground her teeth together. The Senate needed to come to a decision. Peter’s body was nothing more than ash and the hospital was still burning. Hundreds of people had died in an instant because no one else had been strong enough to do what needed to be done. Terrorists were furthering the divide between humans and variants, and the governing body couldn’t even come to a decision.

“Xo,” Adonis called to her from her party’s small corner. Xolia turned to him. He looked at her with wide eyes. She furrowed her brows at him, then looked down at her hands. Water dripped from them. Big droplets formed at her palms, the back of her hands, her fingertips. She lifted her hands up and watched as the water slowly dried up, leaving her skin dry to the touch. Exhaustion fell over her all at once. Somehow, she had managed to create water. Xolia could scream. She couldn’t possibly replicate it consciously. Unaware of her revelation, everyone continued their screaming matches.

There was a way she could grab their attention. Shoring up the remaining dregs of her energy, Xolia’s fingers twitched into a familiar pattern, and she felt for their bloodstreams. For all the pulsing life thrumming through their bodies. She took hold of it, pulling it towards her, sending the room into immediate silence. All eyes snapped up to her.

“This infighting won’t solve anything,” Xolia said, releasing her hold on everyone. She leaned against the podium for support. “Peter’s body, and who knows how many others, lie rotting in the rubble of the hospital. Lana, would you please start the vote?”

The woman in question nodded and quickly made her way up to the podium. Xolia staggered to her seat next to Adonis, who leaned over to whisper in her ear, “I’m in awe of you.”

She wanted to melt under his praise, but now was not the time. She did allow herself to lean into him slightly. As a thank you. An acceptance.

“The voting for our next chancellor will now commence,” Lana said. “When I call your name, you may cast your vote for Atlas Campion or Xolia Stone.”

“General DuBois.”

“Xolia Stone.”

“General Perrin.”

“Atlas Campion.”

Down the list Lana went. Three senators withheld their votes altogether, leaving Atlas and Xolia tied by the time Lana made her way to the senator of finance, Victor Davenport. She held her breath, waiting to see what he would say. With everything happening so suddenly, she doubted General DuBois had had time to talk to him, but with the general already having cast his vote, surely Davenport would follow suit.

“Senator Davenport.”

The man in question stood, certainly knowing that whatever he said would change the course of history for the country.

“I cast my vote for. . .Xolia Stone.”

Xolia’s breath escaped her.

She had done it.

She could avenge Peter.

Lana opened her mouth, but before she could speak, General Perrin stood and ripped off the four-pointed-star-and-halo badge on his uniform. Throwing it to the ground, he said, “Xolia Stone is no chancellor of mine. I stand with Atlas Campion.”

Xolia turned to Atlas, who was also standing, his chin raised. Xolia’s stomach plummeted; he must have been planning for this.

“You’re a traitor to the country,” General DuBois said. The two generals turned on each other, and Xolia wondered if this wasn’t something that went deeper than their choice of chancellor. It looked too personal, almost like how she and Atlas would fight. There was a deeper hatred that went beyond political differences.

Something crashed into her, sending her and her chair flying to the floor. “I did warn you to back off,” Atlas cried. Panic made his voice waver, like he was truly afraid of her.

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