by Regine Abel
“A Vestal?” I asked, taken aback by the odd question.
“I’d been as surprised as you are,” Nan said with a sympathetic smile. “But then I nearly panicked when he said there was a powerful ergokinetic nearby. He could feel their energy. Naturally, I denied it, until he dropped the subject. The next few days were terrifying. Not only was Kwazeem’s condition becoming critical, but Frollo kept coming back, his gaze full of suspicion.”
“Did he challenge you each time he came?”
“No, he just came in, pretended to look at the products on offering, while lurking around to assess where the energy emanated from,” Nan said, shaking her head. “That day, he left as usual without a fuss. A few hours after the shop had closed, I took Kwazeem to the river to try and break his fever.”
“And Frollo showed up,” I said, guessing where the story was headed.
Nan nodded. “Yes. He admitted afterwards that he’d been hiding in the shadows, fearing I might be holding a Vestal or a gifted child against their will and in contravention with the laws.”
No way…
I didn’t believe for one minute that righteous zeal had dictated his actions.
“But whatever his reasons, he immediately took an interest in Kwazeem. And instead of reporting me to the authorities, he offered to help.” Her hand tightened further around mine. “He was the miracle I’d been praying for; the miracle that would save my boy’s life. And he did. I didn’t understand the medical jargon he laid on me regarding Kwazeem’s condition. I didn’t really care either beyond the fact that my boy was no longer in agony. But then, it kept coming back. In the meantime, Frollo had been climbing the ranks at dizzying speed to become the youngest Praetor in our history. That’s when he asked to take Kwazeem from me to go live in Paris with him.”
“But why?” I asked, happy to finally get to the part Kwazeem hadn’t been able to tell me much about. “Why take him to a place that could get them both executed for breaking the law? Why not just keep coming here once a month to care for him?”
“Those are the very questions I asked him,” Nan said, a frown marring her forehead. “I didn’t want to part with my baby, but with his new duties, Frollo couldn’t justify his escapades anymore. The way his schedule was tightly managed, with his personal guards almost always by his side, it would rapidly raise suspicions. That hadn’t fully convinced me, but then Frollo said he’d been building a lab in the temple where he could spend all of his free time looking for a cure if Kwazeem was nearby.”
“So, you let him go,” I said softly, wondering if I could have done it.
“I often wondered if it had been a mistake,” Nan said. “But I couldn’t risk Frollo abandoning my baby if I refused.”
“I still don’t understand why Frollo would put his life and career on the line for a Fallen half-breed,” I insisted.
“I asked him that very question,” Nan said, making me perk up. “He said that a being who possessed Divine Light couldn’t be evil. As Praetor and Guardian of Vesta’s Temple on the First Circle, it was his duty to protect all of her children, whatever their genetics.”
“With all due respect, that sounds like a whole lot of hot air to me,” I said, frustrated.
Nan burst out laughing. “That was my thought, too, but beggars can’t be choosers. For all that, Frollo has kept his promises except about keeping me informed about my boy’s welfare. He was diligent about it in the first couple of years, but as time went by, I heard less and less frequently, and now not at all. For a while, I would come to the Chakra ceremonies in the hopes of catching a glimpse of Kwazeem, but he was kept too well hidden. So, your presence is a balm on my old heart to know my baby still thrives.”
“He is thriving, despite his condition still plaguing him, but they have a routine now so that he can function normally,” I said, leaving out the way it had been escalating lately. “He’s a fantastic gardener and weapons smith. And his two imps, Victus and Lazarus, are a riot. They love to hug and kiss people. Kwazeem is always scolding them so that they leave me alone.”
“Not people,” Nan gently corrected. “They only show such affection to people they recognize as kindred spirits. They hug you because they love you.”
My face heated with embarrassment and pleasure. But I quickly sobered before asking the question that had been burning my tongue for days.
“Is there any chance Frollo could be blood-related to Kwazeem?”
Nan slightly recoiled, taken aback by a question she’d clearly never even contemplated. “No. Why do you ask?”
“Since he would have been in his early teens when Kwazeem was conceived, I doubt he’s the father,” I explained, making a slight detour before getting to my point. “But he could be his older brother. Frollo’s ergokinetic powers are impressive for a human male. I thought he’d inherited it from his mother, whom I’d assumed had been a high-ranking Vestal. You see, Frollo’s Divine Light is almost identical to Kwazeem’s. That’s impossible unless they are related. Frankly, I’d only ever felt something so similar between twins, and even then... That would also explain why Frollo has been so steadfast in looking after him.”
“I see what you mean, but it is not possible. Frollo’s father was a struggling merchant from Loriend, a small town in the suburbs of Paris. He died of liver failure after years of heavy drinking when Frollo was still a boy. Even the mechanical implant they’d given him as a replacement couldn’t handle his continued alcohol abuse.”
“Does Frollo have a brother or an uncle?” I asked, running out of options.
Nan shook her head with a commiserating look. “Unfortunately, no. It warms my heart that Kwazeem should have someone such as you in his life, someone who clearly cares about him. But I caution you to tread carefully and understand well the consequences of your choices. A life with him could mean the loss of your Divine Light and the end of your life as a Vestal. You will live in exile as the people aren’t ready to accept a Fallen in their midst. Kwazeem might even be hunted for ‘defiling’ an Anointed.”
I flinched at the truth of her words, the dark side that I wasn’t ready to handle just yet.
“Your arrival on Eden has brought great hope to our people. No Vestal has come even remotely close to filling our Well. And with our cities constantly expanding, the energy supply no longer meets the demand,” Nan explained, a troubled look on her face. “Every Vestal who has come to Paris ended up fleeing to lesser Circles, burnt out and exhausted from endless demands for more energy. People said the beacon of the temple’s spire glowed like a high noon sun when you performed your first Chant, such was the power of your Divine Light. Now, all our hopes rest on you. There will be a record attendance the day after tomorrow for your first Festival. If Kwazeem robs you of your Light, the citizens will descend upon him like a rabid mob.”
I refused to even contemplate the possibility of losing my power. It didn’t define me, but it was an integral part of me. I had devoted my life to becoming the light bringer of the people. As an Anointed, I’d been blessed with more power than most Vestals would ever yield in their lifetime. Such a gift came with great responsibilities. How could I even contemplate throwing this all away over my intense attraction to Kwazeem?
“One last thing to keep in mind,” Nan continued, her voice gentle despite the clear warning it contained. “Kwazeem is only still alive thanks to the Praetor’s ministrations. Before you even contemplate running away together, make sure you can aid him in a similar fashion. My boy has already suffered far too much.”
My chest constricted at the thought of so many hurdles before us.
“Your words have not fallen into deaf ears,” I whispered, feeling somewhat defeated.
The hard glint that had crept into Nan’s eyes faded, replaced by sympathy and a sliver of guilt. “I would love nothing more than for you two to find a way to make it work. But I want even more for my boy to live and to remain safe. His life may be empty, and quite lonely at times, but it’s a decent one. Please, ma
ke sure you do not make it worse.”
Chapter 9
Kwazeem
I trudged towards the plaza with steps as heavy as my heart, my hovercart laden with bioluminescent flowers and my two imps in tow. The way I’d yelled at Esmeralda to go away replayed in an infernal loop in my mind. The hurt and humiliated look in her eyes as she fixed her clothes and ran away was forever burned in my psyche. She had completely misunderstood my reaction, but how could she not?
The lancing pain in my back had remained my constant companion since yesterday morning; since Esmeralda had so greatly honored me by surrendering herself to my touch. Strong emotions—mainly joy—seemed to cause Esmeralda to project her Divine Light, creating a power link between us. But as much as it gave me pleasure, it would eventually kill me. A quick look in the mirror last night had confirmed what my blotchy, swollen hands and the throbbing in my face had heralded. It had only been four days since Frollo had last drained me. And yet, my face already looked as disfigured as if I’d been at the start of the last week of my condition’s monthly cycle.
I blinked away the tears pricking my eyes at this reminder that I could never be with the one woman to have touched my heart. How arrogant to have ever even contemplated it? Of course her Divine Light would repel one as unworthy as I. Esmeralda needed to know I’d only asked her to leave because her presence was crippling me. With Frollo out of town until the next day, had my condition worsened, I would have been a wreck for twenty-four hours, with no one to save me. I hated being so dependent, so helpless.
After I’d gotten my pain under control late yesterday afternoon, I’d snuck into the temple to explain and apologize, but Esmeralda had been gone. Today, with the frantic activity surrounding the last minute preparations for the Festival tomorrow, there had been no opportunities to approach her. Even sending my imps with a note would have been too risky.
I placed my portable hovering platform by the wall of the tall building surrounding the plaza. Stepping onto it, I rose a few meters above ground to adorn the façade with bioluminescent flowers. Their dreamy glow in the darkness of night, only otherwise bathed by the pale moon, soothed some of my sorrow. Victus and Lazarus brought me more flowers from my hovercart as I decorated the nearby buildings and the Elohim perches by the Well of Power.
I was heading towards the table of honor when the light in Esmeralda’s room turned on. My heart skipped a beat when, moments later, her slender silhouette appeared at her balcony. With my hawkish eyesight, I watched her looking for me in the darkness. Even with the moonlight, humans couldn’t clearly see me unless I stood under a brighter light.
Raising my hovering platform near one of the walls illuminated by the flowers, I stopped where she would have the greatest chance of seeing me. Her eyes widened when she found me at last. Hesitant at first, she smiled and waved timidly at me. My chest constricted with emotion realizing that, despite my horrible behavior, she appeared not to hold a grudge. Raising my hand in the light, I waved back. Her smile broadened, and she slightly bowed her head before returning back inside.
But even as darkness swallowed her room again, my silly grin persisted through the pain. With renewed energy, and an inexplicable sense of hope, I went back to work, counting the hours until the Festival.
“How the fuck did your condition progress so quickly?” Frollo demanded, eyeing me with a mix of suspicion and confusion.
As with every Festival of Light, he always brought me a basket of food with minced pies, pastries, roasted meats and sautéed vegetables. Those were the best meals I ever got to enjoy, even though they weren’t as good as I imagined the ones fresh out of the oven tasted on the plaza. I never quite understood this odd kindness Frollo showed me on those occasions—not that he was ever actually cruel to me.
“I don’t know,” I said with partial honesty as I genuinely didn’t understand why Esmeralda’s power affected me in such a way when other Vestals never had. “But I will need to be drained in the next few days again.”
I gave him an apologetic look for being such a burden to him. What I wouldn’t give to be able to perform the procedure on my own.
“Right…” Frollo said pensively.
The absence of annoyance in his demeanor made me feel better. For all my misgivings about the Praetor, he’d never balked or complained about helping me with my condition. Well, except for that night I’d intruded on Esmeralda’s Chant. Cupping my face in his hands, he tilted my head left then right while examining my swollen features.
“I will be performing the Orb Relay to the peripheral city tonight and tomorrow after the Festival. When I return on Sunday, we’ll assess your condition,” Frollo said before releasing me.
“Thank you,” I said with genuine gratitude. The pain was still tolerable, but not for long. And draining my spine too frequently could do permanent damage. So, we had to delay as much as possible.
Frollo harrumphed his acknowledgment as he always did whenever I thanked him for any act of kindness, as if it embarrassed him or made him uncomfortable. Turning around, he headed for the door to my cabin, then appeared to hesitate. He looked at me over his shoulder, a frown on his forehead as if he debated with himself.
“Once the celebrations begin, you may watch from the spire. But see that you return here before the festivities end.”
I gaped at him, stunned by that unexpected about face. He’d been so furious with me for sneaking into the chapel. My mouth opened and closed, words failing me, but Frollo didn’t wait for my answer. I watched his receding back, feeling more confused than ever. Victus and Lazarus pawing restlessly at the food basket Frollo had brought forced me to refocus. I opened it and gave them small pieces of meat to chew on. Munching absentmindedly on a slice of minced pie, my feet led me to my bedroom and to the closet where I’d hidden the Fallen mask Esmeralda had brought me.
For the past couple of days, I’d gone back and forth in my mind whether to use it. Until a few moments ago, I’d intended to do so in order not to miss out on the celebration completely. But now that I could return to my old quarters, even if only for a few hours, did it make sense to put myself and Frollo at risk by traipsing the streets of Paris amidst the crowd?
But I want to…
I badly wanted to. For once, I would belong, surrounded by all the other citizens, dancing, laughing, and singing with them. No one would question or challenge my presence. With my costume, I would blend into the crowd.
But what if my condition acts up again?
I could rush back to the temple the minute the symptoms manifested themselves… or rather, if they noticeably increased since pain already plagued me. As long as I didn’t go too far down the plaza, it would be no problem. And with all eyes focused on Esmeralda, the Well of Power, and the Elohim, no one would notice my discreet exit.
Silencing the unease swirling in the pit of my stomach, I spent the next couple of hours rationalizing all the ways this made sense. I’d never had such a perfect costume before, and I could help Esmeralda. She’d been nervous about her performance, knowing what high expectations everyone had of her. But my presence enhanced her power. Even if I needed to run halfway through my woman’s dance, she would blow away everyone’s mind.
As the first notes of music rose over the city, I stood in front of my mirror with my Fallen mask over my head, the holographic suit reinforcing my alien appearance, and the cloak for good measure. The mask had much bigger horns on the forehead than my own, and thicker scales over a larger surface of my cheeks. Instead of the mostly discreet facial spikes along my jawline, the mask had a series of bone spikes ending on each side of my chin. The mask didn’t cover my mouth. Normally, bluish-grey makeup would have been used to match my skin to it, but it was unnecessary for me. The holographic suit gave my hands long, hooked claws, far more vicious looking than my own when I extruded them.
Heart pounding, I made my way to one of the secret back entrances into the temple, then used the lift to go up to the spire. Entering my old room, I
made my way to the balcony to assess the situation outside. Frollo was already standing on the dais where the table of honor had been erected, speaking with some dignitaries from the peripheral cities. As expected, Esmeralda and the Light Maidens were nowhere to be seen. They would make a grand entrance in thirty minutes or so, when the trumpets would herald the impending arrival of the Elohim.
An already thick crowd milled about, cheering on the public entertainers performing over the reinforced glass plate covering the Well. Many a bystander flocked from one of the large buffet tables to the next where generous helpings of various amuse-bouche had been laid out for all to freely indulge in. Once the Ceremony of Light to charge the Well of Power ended, a feast would replace these appetizers.
Unable to resist, I gave in to the wish that had been denied to me for the past two decades, since my first arrival in Paris as a child. Despite the burning urge to finally exit the temple through the main doors, I snuck out onto the plaza from one of the open gates into the garden. No one would question a reveler traipsing about the temple’s backyard, which I always specially decorated for the Festival.
I could barely breathe from my heart pounding so frantically into my throat. Walking on shaky legs, I threaded my way through the throngs. My head spun from having so many people around me, but in a good way; in a happily drunken way. The energy amongst the crowd was overcharged.
None of them knew me, and yet they smiled at me and laughed with me. Many complimented me for my fabulous costume. A pretty female I’d often seen working at one of the stalls of the open market grabbed both my hands and spun us around three times. Disoriented, I gaped at the woman when she smacked a loud kiss on my cheek, released my hands, and waved goodbye with a beaming smile. Seconds later, she hooked arms with another female and they spun around, too, before parting ways to a different partner.