The Outcast and the Survivor
Written by Trevor A. A. Evans
Text Copyright © 2015 by Trevor A. A. Evans
Published by Thirteen Crossroads Publishing
All rights reserved
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotation in articles and reviews.
www.thirteencrossroads.com
Preface
The story that follows is part of a chapter-series, The Outcast and the Survivor. It has been made available on Kindle and Nook as a convenience, since it is available free of charge directly on the Thirteen Crossroads Publishing website. The story will continue with a new chapter being released each month until the last chapter is published in December 2017.
Prologue
There once were two sisters, daughters of the queen. One was old and ruthless. The other was young and seductive. As children they fought, and as adults they warred. After many years, the younger became jealous and drew away some of the army who would have her for their queen.
The sisters then battled for a time, all the way through the changing of the skies. They even forewent the Festival of Three Suns. Without that ceremony to cleanse the Ethereal Plains below the city, the world grew dark and threatening.
Up the Great Stairway crept evil unheeded, evil that snuck behind the armies. It was only when the queen’s forces overcame those of her sister, whom she tossed off the cliffs, that she brought her forces about to face what was coming.
Another great battle was fought, one that turned the city to ruins, but the queen prevailed. Evil was thus cast away for a season. For this cause was the Decree of Heritage written.
The eldest living daughter of the queen inherits the throne upon her parents’ deaths. At that time, all other daughters of royalty are to be cast out beyond the Northern Gate of the city, never to return. Should they ever come back, they are to be executed in the courtyard before the temple. This that war and evil may ever be kept at bay.
Chapter One
The blue sun rises.
We call it that because the sky is bluer when it hangs above us. The other two lights in the sky, which we call the black stars, are much weaker suns, so weak that when either one is alone in the heavens, the sky is darker and the distant stars have a faint glow to them. That is why we reckon our time based on the coming and going of the blue sun alone.
One of the black stars is hovering just above the blue sun. It rose maybe an hour ago. The other black star will rise soon as well. They are not always together like this, only every few years. It means that the Festival of Three Suns is almost here, a celebration of when all three are in perfect alignment, but I will be far away when that happens.
I am Kaela, a daughter of Amira, the former queen and matriarch of Kalepo. She died many years ago, when I was still very young. My father, Jonithas, has held the throne in the time since, that is until his death seven days ago.
Just moments after his passing, I was being escorted by temple guards to my quarters, where I was given a brief reprise to gather my things in preparation for my exile. I didn’t need much time. I was already packed for my inevitable departure.
Ever since a civil war tore the kingdom apart centuries ago, this has been the destiny of younger tribal princesses. The oldest living daughter of the queen gets to stay and take the crown when both king and queen are dead, but those of us who are not the eldest are condemned to a much harsher fate. Not that many have ever actually had to face it.
It is difficult being born knowing that you will one day become an outcast. That is why most queens stop with just one daughter, though others simply bear and give their later children away in secret. In the rare instances when more than one daughter grows to maturity, it is usually the case that some treacherous end befalls all of the sisters but one. That is what happened to two of my sisters.
I am the youngest of four, all girls. Because my oldest sisters, Cassandra and Helena, were twins, my parents chose not to give any of us away. My father told me that he and my mother decided when the twins were born that they would teach all of us to care for each other. They had hoped that perhaps we could accomplish some great thing together. That if we were prepared and trained for our exodus, it wouldn’t have to mean goodbye forever. But my other sister Mariam destroyed that hope forever.
Cassandra and Helena would call her a jackal because they felt like she was always up to no good when no one was watching. Jackals themselves are hunters that use the early-morning and late-evening light cast by the dark stars to poach chickens and birds from animal farmers. Mariam hid well what she was, always being very two-faced and saying the right things to my parents to make them believe that she wasn’t the monster she was, but I have always seen her darker side, and it has always terrified me.
I didn’t actually think I’d live to see this day, especially after Cassandra and Helena went missing a few years ago. After a long search throughout the city and the farmlands, a torn piece of cloth and Cassandra’s necklace were found near the cliffs that surround the kingdom on three sides.
It was never discovered what had actually happened because their bodies were never found, but it was assumed from the evidence that they had fallen after some sort of struggle. Even this could not be confirmed, however, since there was no way to recover the bodies at the bottom of the cliffs. Only warriors are allowed to descend the Great Stairway to the Ethereal Plains below the city, and that is only every few years during the Festival of Three Suns. Any other travel to the plains is strictly forbidden.
My heart didn’t need confirmation. It knew that Mariam had killed them or had had someone else do it. Still, I dreaded telling my father. His reaction to the tragedy suggested that someone else would have to open his eyes to the truth, but I feared what Mariam would do to me if I spoke. Instead, I cowered and chose to remain silent, a decision that has haunted me ever since.
There is nothing I can do about that regret now. Years have passed, and Mariam is now queen. She was inaugurated only minutes after my father’s death. Her first order was having me cast out. She didn’t even come to say goodbye.
I imagine that most people would have felt completely spurned by such coldness from their own sister, but in a way, her not coming to see me off suggested to me that she actually would miss me. That she wasn’t going to be able to put on a heartless face or wish me well.
It is perhaps a delusion of mine that I believe that even she has a heart beneath all of that brutality and deception, concealed by the evil she has chosen to indulge. I fear her, of course. Who wouldn’t? But that doesn’t mean I can’t love her. She is my sister. As much as I have hated her for what she did, and as much as I have despised the person she has become, I cannot rid myself of a feeling of tenderness for her, even if at times I have wished that I could just rip it from my heart.
Maybe it is good that I could never bring myself to. Maybe that is why she could never get herself to do to me what she had done to Cassandra and Helena. If that is the case, I suppose I should be grateful that I cannot look at another person and not find some reason to have love for them.
Love, however, can no longer protect me. Because it has been seven days since I was placed outside the Northern Gate, I am now completely subject to the Decree of Heritage. If the mountain patrols see me, and I am certain that they will be keeping an eye out for me, they will seize me and take me back to the city, where I will be executed. The seven days I have camped here just beyond the walls constitute the time I was granted to get beyond the reach of the patrols, but I prolonged my stay. I just couldn’t let go of Kalepo until I ha
d to, and so I have watched it from the mountains above the city before saying my last goodbye.
The people here are all I have ever known, nor is it taught that there are kingdoms or lands beyond the city walls. Kalepo could very well be the only city in the world, sitting alone on a plateau thousands of feet above the endless Ethereal Plains. These plains stretch into the distant horizon to the east, south, and west, wrapping around the mountains to the north of the city, the mountains I now view the city from. Perhaps the plains go on forever.
Rarely can any part of them be seen from the plateau. They are too far below the city and are always covered by mist and fog, hence the name. Only warriors and the king and queen ever get to see them up close, and that opportunity only comes during the festival. Because they are all sworn to secrecy, the penalty tied to that oath being death, the plains remain a mystery to the rest of the people, but that mystery will soon be unveiled to me thanks to something my father whispered on his deathbed.
“Come closer,” his strained voice called out to me.
I was already kneeling next to him, holding his hand as tears streamed down my face. I knew his passing would be soon, perhaps even just hours away, a complete shock considering that he had been healthy and full of life just a week before.
When
The Outcast and the Survivor: Chapter One Page 1