Dutybound

by Mark Aaron Alvarez

  “The royal runes. So there are others like the Light Wings?”

  Emma nodded. “Yes, but none as powerful. Your friend—Luzanna, is it? She has the Heaven’s Opal.”

  “You mean the Elder Stone? Her father gave that to her right before he died. Does that mean he always knew? Does it have powers like the Light Wings?” Lucia had so many questions. She was fascinated by the delicate nature their world was built upon.

  “Of course it does. But it takes a very special kind of person to wield it. Obviously that person wasn’t Talon. I can tell you now, if you hope to save Terestria, Luzanna will need to learn to use it. But I’m not sure how that’ll work. Only those capable of Runespeech are able to use the runes.” Emma let out a sigh of relief as the corridor split into two walkways. One headed right, into a hallway that looked similar to the one they were in at the moment. But the other was covered in a haze of shadow, with a stone threshold leading into it only a few feet from where they stood. Emma grabbed the unlit torch from its hoister on the right side of the door. She closed her eyes and, with a wave of her hand, circled the torch and brought about a bright orange flame from beneath her fingertips.

  Lucia’s mouth dropped in awe. “How did you—”

  Emma looked back toward Lucia. “Runespeech.”

  Lucia followed Emma as they descended down a cramped and dark spiral staircase. The red carpet was changing beneath her feet, darkening as they moved farther down. Soon, there was no carpet at all. Only stone. “So—what is Runespeech?”

  Emma smiled, glancing back at the Light Wings. The deeper they went, the brighter their light became. This was typical of the Light Wings when they ventured into dark places—she knew this, but to finally be able to see it with her own eyes made her feel honored. “Runespeech is not unlike what you call prayer. It’s a communion between our world and theirs. However, it’s not just how we communicate with the light—it is how we use its power.”

  “For good. For protection,” Lucia asserted.

  “As our name suggests,” Emma said. “But how you seem to use it is quite puzzling. As far as I know, the gift of Runespeech was an ability granted only to the protectors. No one outside our realm has been capable of using it before.”

  “I see.” Lucia bowed her head. Talon had mentioned this, and even Leo and Luzanna had their suspicions of why Lucia was able to use this power. She didn’t have an answer, but it left her confused and worried about what the truth might be. “Talon said that I inherited the gift from my mother. She had used it during Frailty’s War, to stop the darkness as it emerged in the final battle between Moz and Pinea.”

  “The sin manifested itself—and your mother harnessed the light’s power on her own? Without a rune?” Emma asked skeptically.

  “I mean, do you need a rune?”

  “Actually, no. My powers are innate. I was born with them,” Emma said. “As are yours.”

  The two eventually came upon another doorway, one that led into what looked to be only darkness. “What is this place?” Lucia asked.

  Emma stepped forward, illuminating the walls around them. The air was filled with dust, and an earthy smell oozed up from beneath them, caught on an updraft caused by the fire. “Lucia, could you give me a hand and provide us some light?”

  Lucia blinked as she stared at her hands. She nodded and focused her emotions into the tips of her fingers, lighting up the area around them. It didn’t take long for her to realize where they were. The bones of bodies were laid upon stone shelves, and the stench she had smelled before was that of the death of hundreds of decaying bodies beneath the tower.

  “This is where every protector who has ever lived is laid to rest after they have died. This is the most sacred place in all of Terestria. Only the protectors are allowed in here.” Emma walked forward.

  Lucia covered her mouth with her free hand, trying to keep the foul dust of the bodies from entering her mouth, but she found herself coughing anyway as she stared in disbelief at the amount of bones she was seeing. “But why am I here? Why would you bring me here?”

  “Because, Lucia, you are the savior. And as savior, you deserve to know the truth about the fall. You need to know what really happened.”

  “So tell me,” Lucia said while watching her steps carefully. The place wasn’t as bright and pretty as the rest of the tower, to say the least, and she sensed something looming in the shadows. No matter how sacred this place may be, there was something ominous about it—something terrifying.

  ***

  “She’s got to be close,” Leo said, using his left hand to cover his yawn. With a rough blink, he studied the hallways of the stronghold, examining them for clues as they approached the east wing.

  “I’m not sure, but I have this feeling,” Luzanna said wearily. She rushed ahead of Leo as her breathing became shaky. She couldn’t explain it, but she perceived a connection. She sensed Lucia from where they were standing. Quickly, she looked to the ground. “They’re below us, beneath the tower.”

  “You can’t be serious. How do you know that?”

  Luzanna knelt and touched the floor with her fingers. She closed her eyes as a trickle of energy collected at the center of her forehead. “The catacombs,” she whispered.

  “The what?” Leo asked, confused.

  “We have to hurry. Lucia’s in danger!”

  ***

  “These catacombs are where it all began. The start of the fall, it all happened from within and beneath the most sacred of all places. You see, as time passed, it was only inevitable that our blessed blood would venture beyond the forest, but not in such a capacity that Runespeech would ever be attainable outside our tribe. The blood would have been diluted through generations. But in recent times, one person dared to venture outside the forest and leave Remena completely,” Emma said.

  As they proceeded deeper into the crypt, carvings and symbols of a language Lucia didn’t recognize covered the walls. The tar-covered skeletons looked grim as they became denser within their bunks, and the stench became all the more unbearable.

  “These carvings are prayers honoring the Light Wings. It is said that, when a protector dies, their power is never truly lost. That is why they are laid to rest here. Because if anything were ever to enter the catacombs or threaten the Light Wings, anyone with the smallest trace of blessed blood would be able to protect them.”

  “Protect the Light Wings?” Lucia asked.

  “Yes, this is the home of the Light Wings—where they have been for all time, until the fall.”

  Lucia felt it, rippling to the surface. The truth she longed for, it was here, but it was not the truth she wanted. She should have known better, but now she was putting together the pieces of the wretched truth. “So the last protector to leave Remena, they took the Light Wings with them.”

  “Right. I must admit, Lucia, you are very intuitive,” Emma said as they approached a crossroads in the catacombs. There were three paths ahead of them—one to the left, one to the right, and the last straight ahead. But at the center was a platform atop which an altar stood.

  Lucia had not truly grasped how large the place was until she saw the dome above her head. As the paths around them stemmed toward unknown destinations, there at the center was the source of all of the light’s power. Or so it seemed.

  “Lucia, let me ask you something. Do you think the Light Wings chose you by mistake? Or do you think there was some divine connection in your meeting them?”

  Lucia hesitated. She had always wondered why they had chosen her. It could have been anyone else but her, but the longer she traveled with them the more she understood—their motivations, their desires, their connection to her and who she was. “There is a connection between me and the Light Wings. It was no coincidence that I was chosen. They were given to me because they wanted to be. It was fate.”

  Emma climbed up the platform, ap
proaching the altar, where two torch posts stood on each side. She took her torch and lit them both, illuminating the dome above them even more than it was before. “Correct. The Light Wings are not a senseless vessel, nor are they a puppet that serves one master. They are the light’s manifestation on Terestria, its very essence in material form. They do not serve us or you; rather, we are subject to their design.”

  “What does that mean? I’m having a hard time understanding all of this. What does this have to do with the fall?”

  “It’s not a coincidence that the Light Wings chose you. Because there is a blood connection. You’re the high maiden of Moz. You said it yourself, did you not? And that is precisely why they chose you, because of who he chose.”

  “Who?”

  Emma placed her torch upon the altar and traced her fingers on the pedestal. “My brother. He stole the Light Wings and fled Remena decades ago to escape his birthright as high priest. At the time of the last Carist elder’s coronation, Talon arrived here with two companions. They were of noble blood, betrothed to one another, and Talon’s very best of friends. It’s ironic that his daughter would now come with two companions, just as he did so many years ago. That was allowed, as long as the elder did not share the secrets learned within the Tower of Origin. But during their time here, my brother was taken with the woman Talon had come with, and though she was betrothed to another he longed for her. So much that he’d use his gifts to gain her affection.” Emma paused for a few moments. “The woman was Ara Sanoon, your mother.”

  “What?” Lucia could hardly believe the words Emma spoke. Her heart was growing heavier with every beat. It couldn’t be possible. “My mother never told me about this. It can’t be true. She was never betrothed to anyone but my father. And my father, he was—”

  “The man your mother was supposed to marry was Sigranole Feral. Familiar, isn’t it? Do you see how you’re all connected?”

  “That’s impossible. Pinea and Moz have hated each other for as long as I can remember. Their rivalry existed long before I was born.”

  “And you never wondered why? Why is it that so much chaos and war raged between the two nations? Over what did they fight? Is that a question you can answer?”

  Lucia was at a loss. She couldn’t answer the question, nor did she want to. She refused to accept the truth for what it was if it couldn’t be the truth she was looking for. “If this is true, our parents withheld information from us. They lied when it mattered most. It’s senseless. Destructive even. Why would they do that?”

  “Perhaps to hide their shame or their sin? To not share blame in the darkness they breathed into our world.”

  Lucia’s eyes tightened. She lowered her light and stepped onto the platform. “And my father’s role in all this? That’s where you’re going, isn’t it? You were going to tell me how he was the reason the fall happened in the first place.”

  Emma smiled. “It really is quite impressive how intuitive you are, Lucia. Your logic is pristine and crystal clear.” She straightened before taking on an even more emboldened tone. “Your father’s real name is Stello Sarina. He was my brother, and the rightful high priest of the Tower of Origin.”

  “My father . . . ” Lucia’s breath left her. “He was a protector?”

  “And not just any protector. He was from the oldest of our families. The Sarina bloodline is descended from the first generation of protectors. They are the closest descendants of the light, the most powerful of the protectors.”

  “So my mother—she doesn’t have any powers. It never came from her.”

  Emma shook her head. “No. At the time of your war, your mother must have been pregnant with you. That would explain how she used your power while you were in her womb.”

  “I can’t believe this.” Lucia barely managed to speak. Her voice shook as tears formed in her eyes.

  Emma bowed her head. “I’m sorry, Lucia. I know this may come to you as a shock, but it means something more than you know. It means we’re family, and the Light Wings chose you because they believe that all things must come full circle, and that promises are meant to be kept. You and your friends are examples of that—the descendants of those directly related to the fall, the noble youths of an entirely different generation of Terestrian rulers.”

  “I just don’t understand. What did my father do that was so bad? It’s not like he hurt anyone. He just fell in love.”

  “That he did, my dear.” The voice echoed about the room, bellowing. Emma and Lucia looked around in confusion, unable to tell where it was coming from. The master slowly approached the platform dressed in a deep orange robe. He cleared his voice before speaking again, addressing Emma. “I told you to go straight to bed.”

  Emma bowed her head. “I’m sorry, Master. I just—”

  “Enough! You’ve got the poor dear scared half to death, all the way down here telling her the story of your family. This is heartbreaking.” Ralphoro shuddered and put a shaky palm to his face. “I thought I taught you better, but no, no. You couldn’t resist telling your poor niece the truth. You just had to lay it on her all at once.”

  “But, Master, she deserved to know. After all, she’s my family.”

  “I’m your family,” Ralphoro bellowed. He turned to Lucia. “No offense, my dear, but I’m all sweet Emma has ever known. And your lot, you’re the ones who caused all this. You and that stubborn father of yours.”

  “Excuse me, but my father did nothing wrong,” Lucia defended. “I mean, sure, stealing the Light Wings. That was wrong, but you said the Light Wings are always in control. They serve no one, so in a way they were trying to find their way to me.” Lucia’s anxiety was soaring and her fear—and the tension—so dense that the stench of the catacombs was overwhelmed by a chill of repugnant disdain.

  “You don’t say?” Ralphoro chuckled. “Humph. Well that we can agree with . . . puppet.”

  “What?” Emma uttered, cowering backward. “Master, is something wrong?”

  “Emma, don’t pretend innocence. You know precisely why you brought her down here. It’s not because she deserves the truth. It’s because of what she did to your family!”

  “What did I do?” Emma said, distraught. “No . . . I did nothing.”

  “Wrong!” Ralphoro shouted. “You did everything wrong. Your parents—they were fools, meddling with forces they couldn’t possibly understand. But you, sweet, sweet Emma. You have always held this hatred, this thirst for something more. She took everything from you.” Ralphoro pointed brashly toward Lucia. “And she was chosen to hold the light even after what Stello had done.”

  “Falling in love isn’t a crime,” Lucia cried.

  “It is when it starts a war! People died because of him.”

  “No—it wasn’t like that.”

  “Who’d have thought? Your very existence cost thousands of lives. Do you feel good about yourself? Sure, you have beauty, wealth, power—but are you truly complete?” Ralphoro looked toward Emma, who had tears streaming down her face. “How about you, my dear, do you feel satisfied?”

  “Why are you acting like this? You’ve never spoken like this to me before.”

  “Oh no?” Ralphoro looked genuinely shocked. His mouth dropped as he fumbled his cane. He clenched at his chest. “You are my biggest disappointment. The best thing you’ve ever done is defy my wishes. And all it took was a little family reunion to get you to embrace the darkness within your heart.”

  Lucia interrupted, “What are you talking about? Emma’s a protector. She loves the light. Don’t you, Emma?” Lucia looked at Emma, who was staring blankly into the shadows.

  Chapter Eighteen:

  The Story of Origin

  Emma stood silently beside the altar, her breathing shallow, her body catatonic.

  What is happening to her? Lucia thought. “You see what you’ve done?” she said in anger to Ralphoro. “You’v
e twisted the truth into some horrible nightmare, simply to—what, prove a point? And you’re supposed to be some holy man.”

  “Do you see those images up there?” Ralphoro said calmly, pointing his cane toward the dome above them. Carved into it were two figures, joined at the center and fused into a magnificent gemstone that held stylized, luminous, almost sparkling fire beneath as if it were meant to signify a limitless power. From the sides stretched a total of four wings, parallel to one another. They curved with the dome and stood monumental to what lay below them.

  Astonished, Lucia directed her gaze down to a vast crest etched into the floor of the wide room. It circled around the platform and rose with it, leading to the center and to an altar resting place that appeared to be for the Light Wings themselves. Surrounding the altar, in each compass direction, were four symbols that Lucia immediately recognized. She dropped to the floor and ran her hand against the curves and markings that stroked so gently against the stone. The symbols had been there—within her sanctuary window. Here they glistened beneath the gracious light. She examined the markings as they lay surrounding carved vines and roses cut in such high relief. It was beautiful and so familiar. How could she have overlooked this before?

  “What are these symbols?” Lucia asked, pushing back her hair as her voice echoed near Ralphoro, who snickered in the glow of the torchlight.

  “Those are the four virtues,” he said, stroking a faint beard beneath his chin.

  Lucia looked again at them, staring in amazement. “The light’s virtues. Of course.”

  “Yes, the virtues of light.” Ralphoro stared at the symbols with wide eyes.

  “Four heirs destined to wage war against the sins that threaten Terestria,” Lucia recalled.