Leo gave her a wild look, full of confusion. He relaxed his face and parted his lips as if to say something but retracted his words and thought again. “I’m not sure, but that is part of the story, isn’t it? The legend about light and dark, life and death . . . .”
“Two forces created the world. One gave us life, and one gave us death, indoctrinating a balance that would exist for all time, but never did I ever think about what happens after that. We return to the earth, but then what?” She held out her hand and pointed at her chest. “What happens to our hearts? Where do our spirits go?”
“It is said to return to the creator to cycle through time. I never really understood it really; not beyond what my tutors taught me.”
“The light created the heavens and life. The darkness created the earth and death, yet we do not know which creator we go back to. Who claims our souls? That which breathed our very lives into us, or that to which our bodies are sent after we die?”
Leo laughed and sent her another squeeze of the hand. “So inquisitive, yet so naive.”
“Don’t call me naive,” Lucia said with a sigh. “I’m just thinking.”
“I don’t know all the answers either, Lucia. But if I must say, being a philosopher truly suits you.” Leo smiled. “You really do think like a lady, you know.”
“I’m hardly a lady yet,” Lucia said. “I don’t know these things, yet something tells me they are important.” She bowed her head as her thoughts deepened. “I can’t rule and know nothing. I can’t expect anyone to lead their lives without some sort of knowledge of their own. We need to know the truth. With the truth comes our freedom.”
Leo’s grin widened. “And we will be free soon enough.”
Leo’s mood was contagious, causing Lucia’s spirits to rise just a bit, pulling her from the depths of worry and into something more hopeful. She nudged the side of Leo’s shoulder, while he leaned his head back onto hers with a chuckle. Lucia smiled too, distracted by Leo’s charm. Her faith lifted from the depths of the anguish that bound her and into something bright. Despite losing his father and his home, Leo remained so carefree. How did he do it? How did he manage to escape the struggles of his grief and harbor his own despair? She looked up into the dark sky, examining the white studs that sparkled over the purple plane. And then she heard it, the echo of a thought that was not her own: “As long as there is light, there is hope.”
“Hope?” she asked herself, as if there were more meaning to the word. “Why do you keep saying that word?”
“Saying what?” Leo asked.
Lucia straightened up and rubbed her cheek. “Uh . . . . It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.” Here we go she thought as she rolled her eyes. I’m absolutely losing it. Now she wasn’t merely listening to voices inside her head, but she was actually starting to speak back to them, meeting her very own definition of insanity.
The Carist commander approached them, emitting a sort of arrogance that brought Leo a sense of intimidation, though he knew he had nothing to be afraid of. The Carists had information that they solely needed, and Leo was determined to get it, no matter the cost. The Carists would be foolish to try to harm them considering what was at stake. It was a fair bargain, he assumed, information in exchange for safety from the threat that could very well mean the end of them both.
“Come. I’ll show you into the city.” The guard’s voice was emotionless, and rather loud.
Lucia gently squeezed Leo’s forearm, and it was as if she could send her thoughts directly into his mind. Something is wrong about this place.
Somehow, Leo understood the words beneath the touch, feeling the same intuition blaze in the pit of his stomach. Something was indeed not right.
They were led to the large gate which flashed with light that leaked from the tiny carvings etched across it. A piercing roar rang out as the gate lowered into the earth. Lucia was eager to see what might lie beyond the threshold. Her anticipation built up, along with her fears, but she found relief in the light as it cloaked her. It was strong. Lucia knew this because it seeped into her pendant and filled her with its radiance. She just hoped she would be powerful enough to fight off whatever darkness might try to consume it.
The gate disappeared beneath the platform, and the sound of rushing water came from the distance. Lucia smelled the ocean as she followed Leo and the commander inside. The water lifted into the air, forming into a light mist, crisp with salt and cool to the touch. Lucia rubbed the moisture between her fingers.
A large network of rivers webbed throughout the city, shining blue like veins within the body. Flowing light, Lucia thought as she was tempted to kneel and dip her fingers into it. Each riverside was connected by a bridge, and alongside them were metallic buildings, similar in architecture but differing in size. The rivers separated the different sections of the city, creating what appeared to be a collection of various islands. As the buildings got smaller, they became more populated with people. It was not difficult to see how the city functioned. Aldric was divided by these rivers, with a marketplace and many groups of houses similar to the neighborhoods and districts in Moz. As they walked farther Lucia noticed what she had seen from behind the gate. Large lighted towers, massive in scale, were elevated over the destination of all the rivers flowing within the outer wall. There, all the waters fell into the sea, creating a massive waterfall hurling down onto the shores below.
The city floated along a cliff, dangling atop a clouded waterfall, powered by the water as it entered the towers and dropped below. So strange, Lucia thought. And there, at the edge of this cliff, existed the most lavish, marvelous, and elegant piece of all the architecture within the city walls. This building was cut of marble, coated with a shiny glaze that reflected the light, making it seem to glow itself. It was a column, fluted and tall, and its crown was a shimmering ember of citrine, emitting a strange incandescence of amber-colored flames. It stretched upward and stood at the highest point of the city, past where the rivers met, behind two long, stone bridges and atop a large arch-shaped island where the water fell from behind.
Lucia gasped as the citrine emitted a powerful blast of fire and smoke right before her eyes. She could feel the heat as she winced and shuddered as the flames dispersed. But soon, her senses fell back into reality, apart from the haze and illusion of her premonition. She held Leo’s arm as the guard stopped, looking at the citrine crystal. Shining, still, and absolutely solid.
“Across the bridge is the Glass Tower. That is where the council will listen to your plea and determine their judgment.”
“What judgment, a plea? What are we, on trial?” Leo asked with a hint of sarcasm. His eyes were now cold, burning through his icy blue stare.
“You asked for our help, remember?” The guard growled. “If your provinces are under attack, as you say they are, I would mind your tongue. After all the trouble they have caused amongst themselves in the past, I wouldn’t doubt that they are the subject of their own folly. If terrorists are running amuck, trying to start another war between your nations, I’d much rather keep Aldric out of it.
“But still”—the guard approached Leo—“if Aldric is in any danger, we must defend our home, even from the likes of you and your pathetic wars. If you wish for our help, you must state reason enough to help you keep the peace. If not good enough, all you’ve accomplished is wasting the time of our grand council, and we will be more than happy to be rid of you. We take care of our own here. Our tribe has remained neutral for ages. It would shame us to help provinces bring dishonor upon themselves.”
Leo twitched as his face flared red. He pulled his silver dagger from its sheath and grasped it within his fist. Lucia pushed between them. She exhaled as Leo panted, his rage apparent as his eyes blazed like blue fire.
“You’re supposed to be an admiral of Aldric’s defense squadron, yet I see nothing but a coward standing here before me. You bring shame to you
r own existence with your prejudices. You are not worthy of your title. You are not worthy enough to protect your own people, because you deny the truth. We didn’t come here to ask for your damn help. We’re here to save you!”
“ Leo,” Lucia said, quite surprised she’d have to be saying “behave yourself, please!” She broadened her shoulders between the men.
“I act only at the request of the council. Here, we are neutral unless our aid is absolutely necessary in protecting our city. It’s most likely that no danger will come here. Our tribe is keen in both body and mind. We can defend ourselves. We won’t act according to demands placed by two obviously disoriented youths.” The guard scoffed at Lucia’s troubled face, clearly apathetic. He was even less reactive to the piercing glare of Leo’s sapphire stare. Something was indeed wrong, but it was not clear what. The guard had seemed so worried before, but once he passed the gate, he had entered into some sort of other facade. Why so careless to his duty? Why so repulsive of their plight? “All I can do is lead you here. You’re on your own.”
“Fine,” Leo said, his tolerance wearing thin. “We can take care of ourselves. Why don’t you make yourself useful and get lost before I grow tired of your presence and remove you myself?”
“Leo, this is not the time to be lashing out with threats.” Lucia took a deep breath, contemplating the irony of the situation. Usually, she could not contain her emotions, but this time, it seemed as if Leo was on the verge of losing his temper and ruining any chance they had of making their case.
“If you could handle your own, you wouldn’t be here. We have complete reason to distrust you and no reason to believe you.” The guard turned from them and walked away.
Leo balled up his fist, his anger flowing red in his face. “That selfish pig,” he said. “He chooses not to listen.” He mocked. “Why can’t he see how dire this is?”
There were no words that could justify the commander’s actions, and Lucia couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed. Aldric was the land of scholars, and the Carists were longtime keepers of the knowledge they needed, yet the whole city seemed to be ignorant of the truth. The commander was so dim to the severity of the situation that he was incapable of garnering even the slightest grain of sympathy. It was apparent that he acted only as the council directed, not as a commander or leader of any kind. He was the epitome of a contradiction to the very definition of duty. To Lucia, he was a pawn, nothing more. It saddened her to think that Leo’s words were perhaps true. This ignorance was shameful.
And all this made Lucia wonder if she was guilty of the same: taking orders in blind faith. In that regard, she could relate, yet the ways of the Carists were so different than her own. Lucia held firmly to this belief that there was something surely missing within Aldric’s walls. If not duty, what else? To what standard, what virtue, did the Carists oblige themselves to? To that of man, or that of what could not be understood or explained?
The Carists did not see a threat coming, because they chose to ignore it. The threat was right in front of them, within their walls, despite believing otherwise. What they needed was an immediate defense to be put up around the city, not a justification for doing so. What more must they tell them? Two provinces were under attack, and still the Carists would deny them? The key to stopping this monstrosity could very well lay before them, but now it appeared as if it may be nearly impossible to get the tribe to cooperate. If the Carist commander was like this, there was no telling how the chief elder would be. And if he did not believe them, how could they protect Aldric at all—or anyone else?
Lucia thought of her father, who had been cast away. He probably had been treated all the same. This made Lucia feel even more that this was an impossible mission. She simply could not find the strength to say it.
“The city is in danger, Lucia. The darkness has taken Moz and Pinea. Yet still, the Carists have the nerve to consider rejecting us. He spoke like we were the problem, like we were the terrorists. We’re not. Our people aren’t—”
“Leo, don’t work yourself up over this.” Lucia took his hand in hers. “I know what he said hurt you. You’ve lost so much, but you haven’t lost yourself. You know what you’re here to do. So, do what you do best, and keep your cool.” She was staring into Leo’s sapphire gaze when he smiled, appeased by the comfort of her touch.
He put a hand to her cheek and said, “Is that what you really think of me? You think I’m cool?”
Lucia smiled back at him. “Well, you’ve got a very distinctive temperament.”
“It’s just that”—Leo blinked as he tried to relax—“they act like they’re so damn perfect and righteous. You don’t need a reason to save someone, even from themselves. Why is it so hard to believe some things just happen in the world? There are things we can’t explain. We have to accept that. They will lose everything just as we did. They are no different than us.” He bowed his head. The Carists’ greatest strength would bring about their downfall. It was their arrogance, their vanity, that made them weak. It shocked Leo how the most advanced tribe to ever exist within Terestria could be the most closed-minded and stubborn of them all. “They’re heartless.”
“Stop thinking like that.” Lucia squeezed his hand. “Let’s go find Talon.”
“Do you think he will tell us what he knows?”
“That idiot was foolish,” Lucia said. “I highly doubt the chief elder will be. I assure you. He’ll listen. And if he doesn’t, somebody else will. Have a little hope.”
“Why so optimistic?” Leo asked, genuinely surprised.
Lucia had been struggling to accept her duty this entire journey. And now, it was as if she’d found something to hold onto. “Leo, the will of one man doesn’t define that of an entire people. Someone will help us. I just know, okay?” She looked up at the bright citrine atop the tower, imagining the flames once more. The heat hit her face as a distant echo of a crackle of thunder came from afar. “Talon will have no choice but to see the truth.” She lifted her palm, feeling the light tingle in the tips of her fingers. “He won’t say no.”
Leo’s eyes widened as the sparkles of light drifted up and into the atmosphere like fireflies.
“Remember what Sigranole said about Talon, the story of the darkness and how it rose from the bloodshed of Frailty’s War? Maybe that’s what he meant. The Carists know of this, and they blame us for what has befallen our people,” Lucia said. “They judge us for what they know of us. They have no other perception.”
Leo took a deep breath. “Judged for the sake of the knowledge they keep secret. And with their secrets, they control the fate of their people and the world.” He trembled with disgust. The origins of the world had been reduced to secrets, and truth turned to myth, cultivating a lie that would provide power over the masses. Secrecy would destroy this city, and the Carists, too, would fault their own leaders.
Lucia’s eyes widened, and suddenly it hit her like a heavy storm on a shore of shattered glass. Could it have been there all this time? Or was there something else she should be seeking? Within her kingdom was a place said to be of great knowledge and prestige, rumored to hold many secrets. But why had she not thought of this before? Sky University. She held her breath before releasing it softly, comforted by the sudden thought. It brought her a surge of excitement, but still she knew she could not go back there. She hoped maybe the light would let her, because there would be something she needed to retrieve, something she could not find here.
She enclosed her hand around the diamond, feeling its power. It was pulsing softly, like a heartbeat and very much alive. Something about this situation was menacing. It was quickening and sending a rush of defensive power through her body. It filled her hands, electrifying her. Lucia shook her head as her senses intensified, sharpening the feeling of the cold storm stinging her face. She felt it coming long before it even touched the shore, from within the walls of Aldric’s fragile ego. The sky wa
s dark with the night, and the stars were shining bright, yet something was coming from the sea, perhaps from its depths—a threat they could not see.
“Let’s hurry,” Lucia said. “We’re running out of time.”
Chapter Ten:
Dove’s Plight
They hustled toward the looming tower. The citrine crystal could not foresee the darkness that was coming, and the chief elder could not save them now despite all they had hoped for. However, it was precisely their hope that brought them to this tower of glistening marble. Lucia trekked up a wide staircase toward the tower’s threshold, to a pair of seemingly impassable shiny granite doors. As she looked back at the ever-darkening sky, the stars disappeared behind the shadows of thickening clouds. Though the artificial light of the bright city reflected off the base of the overcast, Lucia knew it held no chance against the developing storm—the same storm that had fallen onto Pinea and cast it into flames.
She approached the doors and examined them with her hands, feeling the glossy exterior beneath her fingertips. The doors were stiff against her palms, but Lucia did not let that worry her. Slowly, she lifted up her fist and knocked her knuckles against the granite, letting the sound vibrate through the doors and echo behind it. Dust raised from underneath her feet, and she instinctively jumped backward. The doors opened inward to reveal the haze of a long-slanted staircase, one that wound upward into the unknown.
Lucia and Leo stepped warily inside, as if they were falling into a trap. They felt the unseen enemy watching them, sensing it from the shadows. Lucia tried to ignore this as her body was overcome with emotion. With deep breaths, she grounded herself by focusing on the present moment and the grand architecture that made up this wonder.
The tower’s interior was astonishing. Lamps illuminated the doorway and hung from the walls as the staircase wrapped around to guide them through the massive cylindrical structure. As they pressed forward, the stairway led branched to platforms and hallways with distinct areas. Certainly there was some truth to its name: the Glass Tower. The tower appeared to be a web of stone and glass, with a clear view upward. The more they rose, the more their destination opened up to them, and all while the citrine high above them became more visible. Carist statues were stylized atop pedestals beside each doorway, watching the pair as they proceeded higher, their stares growing more ominous with each step. Lucia couldn’t help but think of the place as some sort of museum.
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