As they moved past the outer walls, Lucia missed Moz even more as she ventured into this strange place. But she was so easily taken in by the fascinations of this brand new city. Pinea, as strange as it was, reminded her so much of her own home, though different. The black stone of the walls surrounding her stretched high upward, so much like the white marble within her own city. The roads were paved with sandstone, and the grass was as green as she had ever seen. But as much as she tried to grasp the similarities, this place did not feel like home. Lucia did not feel safe. Her patience was confined to whatever Leo and his father could offer her. She bit her wrist and felt the pain, reminded this was no dream.
“Mozians aren’t too welcome here either, unfortunately. But don’t worry. As long as your identity is hidden and you’re under our protection, no one will harm you.”
Lucia stared off into the torchlight, her gaze hollow. “It’s not the Pineans I fear.” She glanced toward a pub where a crowd of people were making their leave, laughing gleefully as if they, too, were celebrating the war’s end just as her people had been when the nobles met their demise. Most of them looked just like the denizens of her own great city. She could not understand why such a rivalry existed between two cities so alike in the first place. What event could spark so much anger? What could birth such wrath? Could the strife of war really create something so vain? The price of their lives should be worth more than the cause of such bloodshed. Lucia imagined children waving so happily, jumping and playing. She could almost see them reaching out to her horse. No one should have to die. The people in Pinea were living just as her people were far from here. They were all human.
There were some striking features Lucia had never seen before, though, of course, she hadn’t ventured far from the ground of her own manor until now. Here, she could appreciate the architecture, so pristine and untarnished by chaos. The buildings stood tall, like stone pillars, and were made of onyx, circular in shape. Whatever lay inside was a mystery, but surely they were alluring within the moonlight. The small houses and dwellings of the townspeople convened at the base of the towers, aligned and spreading along curving streets that circled around open fields, with an enormous lake at the center. A large bridge, fairly ancient and made of thick brown granite, linked the surrounding city. Crossing the bridge made Lucia’s heart jump as they traversed over the beautiful sparkling waters below. The waters were so clear that she could see the vegetation sway beneath them while schools of fish darted around, plucking at their leaves.
Daisies and wildflowers bloomed along the path leading up a hill to pointed silver gates. Leo looked back, checking on Lucia as she approached, looking off into the distance. “Don’t be so afraid,” he said. “This is home.” He brought a free hand to his waist, clenching the hilt of his dagger protectively before hopping off his horse.
“How did you learn to fight?” she asked, eying the blade.
Leo laughed. “I am not a high maiden, Lucia. Here in Pinea, men of my rank are taught to fight for their country.” He moved forward and pulled a key ring from his side. After a moment, he inserted a black key into the gate and it opened. “I trained with the Pinean military for most of my life. General Tyton started my training at nine years old.”
Lucia tried to remember all her mother had taught her throughout the many years of her life. Teachings of the faith, the centuries-old wisdom of the masters and ladies who reigned before her, and the long-standing history of her country came to mind, but nothing else. She was taught to pray and to believe in the light’s hand in building her country. The light was the creator of nations, and the darkness their destroyer. Somehow, those teachings of faith started to make more sense now. Not as if they hadn’t before, but now there lay something different within this knowledge, a deeper meaning she had not yet grasped. Lucia needed to know, her hunger growing as she pondered. The answers she sought with every question brought a burning, unnatural desire she could not rid herself of—one that would change her forever.
They continued into the vast garden, bigger than her garden at home and better maintained, at that.
“It’s crucial for nobles to know how to defend themselves, especially in a world where our enemies lie at every turn. You mustn’t be so naive to think you will always be safe. For every name lies a cost and a burden to live up to,” Leo continued.
“Could you teach me to defend myself?” Lucia asked, as if she already knew she would have to sooner or later. It would be for her own benefit. After seeing that demon, she did not know exactly what to do about it. Even with the Light Wings around her neck, she did not feel strong enough. “If things really are going to get as bad as you say they are,” she said, clenching her reins, “I’ll need to know how to fight.” Lucia looked away, her attempt to stay strong failing to hold. “Better than before.”
Leo waved to the guards as they stopped in front of the grand mansion. It was elegant and immense, its memorable walkways and gardens covered with gigantic, bold black statues. The winged lions stood proudly within their chains, like fierce guardians staring through vast reaches of time and space, ready to strike down any foe that crossed them. “Welcome to Chateau Feral.”
His home appeared more like a fortress protected by these stone colossi. The chateau was built to exhibit both strength and power. Leo dismounted, holding out his hand.
Lucia took it and studied the air of the place, picking up the sweet dianthus.
“You’re right, I might as well prepare you for what I fear might be the worst period of your entire life. By the looks of it, you could really use a lesson. But then again”—he flicked at the wings around her neck as he strode up the steps toward the mansion’s double doors—“maybe not.”
Lucia could not interpret the gesture, distracted by her own revelations as she stared into the monumental structure lying before her. Eventually, she would have to fight. One day, she would see the monster and feel the wrap of the darkness’ coil. Nothing frightened her more than the grip of the beast’s shadow. Nothing made her feel more helpless than the embrace of the darkest touch. Lucia paced up the steps as Leo waited in front of the large wooden doors. “Do you think this will be easy?” she asked sarcastically.
“I’m just saying, those wings around your neck are a facade of innocent beauty. Perhaps just as much as you.” Leo smiled. “There’s more than meets the eye.”
“They did save my life,” she added before Leo could say anything else. True, Lucia did not understand the power of the jewel, nor how it had worked in those dire moments in her sanctuary, but she knew one thing: she did not want to rely on them alone. She had to depend on herself, just as she always had. Even if something horrible were to happen again, Lucia had to find her own strength. Stello may have left this for her, knowing that its power could indeed protect her, but that was all he had ever done. After all those years of solitude, holed up inside her manor, Lucia wanted nothing more than to trust in herself. “But I don’t want them to again. I will need to fight for myself.”
“If you insist, High Maiden,” Leo said, opening the door.
Lucia gave him a quick glare as she stepped in. “Could you not call me that? Please.” A sudden sadness trickled over her heart, as if she were no longer worthy of her title. She lowered her eyes. Leo closed the door behind them; she jumped slightly as the slam echoed through the decorative main hall. The sophisticated corridor was adorned with portraits on both sides. As they walked along the soft carpet, the ceiling opened into a large dome. A chandelier hung from the ceiling as candlelit torches circled the large room, reflecting an array of multicolored sparkles around them. At its center was a prodigious staircase, so wide it made Lucia dizzy following its spiral upward. She put her hand to her lips, gasping with admiration. “Leo, you live here?”
“It’s not that special,” he smirked, puffing out his chest as if she would not notice his boasting.
She stared around the staircase,
tracing it as it branched off like a tree made of silver and stone connecting to the many levels of the northern, eastern, and western wings. Leo had led her to the first step, but Lucia peered back, pausing before taking it—a sudden chill breathing through her hair. Please, do not be close, she thought to herself, knocking the intuition back deep within her mind. Lucia traced her fingers over the gold rail, watching it sparkle like amber flames beneath her fingers. As they climbed the staircase, she examined the portraits and paintings overhead. The dome was covered with frescoes similar to those in her own home, those of the spirits. However, one stood out amongst the rest, prominent in its unfamiliarity. Lucia had seen nothing like it before. There were two beings, one pure white and divine while the other a dark violet and electric mixed with deepening black. “Leo, is that supposed to look like that?” She wrinkled her nose.
“I believe so. Those are the greater forces of Terestria, the creators. They gave it life and gave us the heavens with night and day.”
“I know that,” Lucia said, slightly annoyed. “I’ve just never seen them depicted like that. Like they’re converging together.”
Until now, Lucia had lived in a limited world that knew little of how it came to be. The story of Terestria’s origin was not clear to her. She wondered where all this knowledge lay. Where was the proof that the story she’d been told all her life was the right one? Not within the Sanoon archives; but perhaps she could find something in the library of Moz’s prestigious Sky University. Lucia was eager to know the truth. She stood staring as Leo stepped a little ahead of her.
He looked back. “This way, Lucia.”
She nodded before following him upward. Leo stepped off one of the branches and pointed to a lone, dark hallway farthest to the corner.
“Where exactly are you taking me?” she asked, pushing her hair behind her ear.
Leo smiled back at her. “The balcony. I thought we could wait there and enjoy the view. My father will be looking for us once he hears word of my arrival. It’d be best to be somewhere he can easily find us.”
“Oh,” Lucia said, rather relieved that she would be able to continue absorbing the atmosphere of the Feral estate. She squinted in the dark as she noticed the corridor was very narrow, tightening her between the walls. Her heartbeat deepened as they moved forward in the fading light. In these shadows, she sensed the faint chill of danger following closely behind. With it came the innate fear boiling to the top of her skin, overflowing inside her head. Leo was ahead of her a good distance, where she could barely see him. Lucia quickened her step, reaching for his hand while almost slipping. She thrust her fingers into his and breathed her terror away, regaining control over her mind.
Leo’s voice rose. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she said, clasping his hand tighter. Lucia pushed back her hair. The thoughts descended as she was gripped by the sudden tension. Her heartbeat slowed as she saw the door at the end of the corridor. Holding her breath and feeling her free hand touch the wings on her neck, she watched Leo reach for the door and push it open. She coughed, relaxing herself as she hurried Leo through the doorway toward the moonlight.
“You looked as if you couldn’t breathe.” Leo worried as Lucia caught her breath. “Why were you holding your breath?”
She placed her hands on her knees for a moment, breathing shallowly before rising up. “No, that hallway was so tight. The lack of light was playing some sort of game with my head.”
“It is late. You’re probably tired from the journey. You’re imagining things. There was plenty of space in that hallway.”
Lucia patted at her skirt, still breathing heavily. “Let us wait now. I would really just like to rest and think for a bit.” She brushed past him, neglecting his gaze while looking out onto the broad marble balcony. Her attention shifted to the center, where a peculiar stone structure stood. It was a circle of tall pillars that connected at the top. Vines grew along them, over lengthy carvings of broad flames, and at its center was a glass pyramid inside a cut bowl of water. The water flowed down the pyramid as an array of colors emerged from it. Lucia’s mouth dropped open as she got close to it. The fountain was so beautiful. She bent over, staring at her reflection, seeing she had dried and still retained her beauty despite the storm. She waved her hand over the water of many colors. She placed a finger into the water and watched the ripples obstruct the figure below. A childish grin spread across her face. The water amused her.
Breaking her focus, and annoying her a bit, Leo grasped her free hand and pulled her to the end of the balcony, where the breeze tousled her hair and brushed her face. Beyond them rolled the great Pinean hills, covered in countless flowers. Their colors stretched across the hills like paint atop a canvas, reflecting in the moonlight.
Lucia looked back to Leo, who studied the rising hills solemnly with his bold blue eyes. She appreciated him and all he had done for her. For the first time, she truly admired him—just as she had his home, with its brilliant stone structures and many works of art. It brought a warm sensation within her as she smiled.
Lucia relaxed her shoulders a bit and took in the moment as she peered at the hills and beyond into the sky. It was almost as if, in that moment, she could forget everything. But just as she found peace within herself, an air of regret loomed, reminding her of how far off she really was from what she was supposed to be searching for, this place she did not know. Lucia wondered how Moz might be by now, and thought about how she’d been drawn away from there—about her mother, the massacre, and her utter failure to protect what she held most dear. The embarrassment overtook her, and she still felt her shame. How could she lead her people if she could not even protect them? How could she receive their love when she allowed so many to be slaughtered and burned? Did she deserve it? Their forgiveness. Why was this happening? Lucia’s sadness showed in her eyes.
Leo moved closer to her as she tried not to cry, tears dripping down her cheeks. Lucia had always wanted more than her privileged, Mozian lifestyle; but not like this, not by force. Just as Leo enfolded her in his arms, the sound of distant footsteps emerged from behind them. Instinctively, Lucia parted from Leo, turning to face the figure slowly approaching them. He was an older, gray-eyed man. His hair was a familiar shade of dark brown, touched with silver at the sides. He looked aged by years of stress and worry, as you can imagine any ruler would be. He wore a dark blue robe, and his chin was covered with gray stubble. Lucia immediately assumed that he was the master of this place: Sigranole Feral.
“Leo, is she”—the master’s eyes widened as he saw the familiar features on her face—“Lucia Sanoon?”
“Father.” Leo’s brows tightened with worry, overtaken by his father’s expression, as if he had never seen his father so afraid. He looked at Lucia, staring at her necklace. He lowered his gaze, signaling the old man to look for himself.
Sigranole flinched back as if struck by a great blow of pain.
Lucia stood in confusion, still not knowing the meaning of why she was there, being alienated at a glance, all while trying to embrace the idea of being stalked by something she barely understood.
“Stello’s prophecy . . . . It’s true.” Sigranole stared at her neck, breathing heavily. Turning from her and toward his son, his face was transparent. “That pendant, he really did find that pendant.” He looked at the pair and, his voice filled with sheer terror said, “Those are the Light Wings.”
Chapter Six:
Revelations of Fear
“Preposterous!” Sigranole exclaimed, his mouth quivering as his voice carried into the swaying hills behind them. “The wings were just a myth.” His body trembled as he held his head in his hands.
Lucia looked outward, her eyes troubled. She did not know what to make of his reaction. Shame cast its shower over her and then beneath a wave of uncertainty. “What exactly are you afraid of?” she asked, clenching the pendant in her fist, haunted by the consta
nt echo of “why?” within her head. “The Light Wings, or the darkness set out to destroy us?” She stepped back, emotion overtaking her body, the Light Wings pleading with her. “Please, tell me.” Lucia’s eyes grew moist as a ball of grief formed at the base of her throat.
Leo looked at her and then back to his father, who was still trying to grasp the answers to Lucia’s questions. Immediately, Leo saw that his father was afraid, and even though he himself barely understood the power his father spoke of, he still saw how low the wings draped from Lucia’s neck, as if heavy with burden. He walked forward and placed a gentle hand on Lucia’s shoulder as she let go of the knot in her throat.
Sigranole took a step toward them as a gentle wind carried in a chill from the north. “There is much to discuss, so much to prepare for. The peril that shall start from this—it has all been foreseen.” He then looked to his son as Leo held on to Lucia. “I am Sigranole Feral,” he finally addressed her, properly introducing himself, “the master of Pinea. I’m sorry that we must meet under these circumstances. However, now I know the truth. And you, my dear, are the key to saving us all. Please, follow me.” Sigranole glanced toward his son, nodding his head slowly as if he were signaling him somehow, almost as if they had rehearsed this before her arrival.
Lucia quivered. The chill deepened, running through the hall and causing her chest to tighten. The longer they waited, the closer it felt. The darkness that had presented itself in Moz was not far behind. It could have even been there already, invisible and watching them closely. Lucia sensed it in the shadows lurking, hidden, waiting.
They were led back to the stairway and to the far left wing of the mansion. Lucia stayed silent, paying close attention to Sigranole, who walked strangely through the halls slouching forward and raising his hand occasionally to pinch the bridge of his nose. His eyes were surrounded by dark, cloud-like circles. His skin took on the image of ash and gloom, while his cheeks sank into his face with dread. An invalid, she thought, turning her head away sadly.
Dutybound Page 7