Arriahad just drifted off to sleep with her head on Riah’s
shoulder sometime later when the balcony door at the far end of the hall burst open with a wind which scattered disregarded dishes and random pieces of parchment and clothing.
Both Riah and Arria nearly jumped out of their skins. When their gazes had whirled, they saw that amidst the shadows stood a hooded figure wearing an eyepatch. Arria rose groggily. “Greetings, Stranger,” she said dully.
“I desire food. This instant.” Leviathan’s voice was iced with a vague, boiling fury.
Arria would have rolled her eyes had she not known that Leviathan was in a foul mood and would snap her neck for the gesture. She darted towards the kitchen through an adjoining door, leaving Leviathan and Riah to scan one another.
“Why. Are. You. Here?” the Shadow Bearer gritted out.
Riah could not tell if Leviathan was angry or just curious. He wondered if the Shadow Bearer thought he was here for particular reasons. Arria’s clothing was scattered about the floor, after all. But that was due to her own untidiness. Nothing else.
Riah forceda nonchalant shrug. “It gets lonely at myown fortress.” When Leviathan did not reply for a long moment, Riah asked, “Where have you been?” in the softest tone he could muster.
“In Mingroth. I have news for you and Arria.”
Riah nodded, pulled out a chair, and plopped into it as Leviathan sat carefully in the one at the head of the table. “What sort of news?” Riah asked inwardly. “I assume it isn’t good.” Leviathan didn't seem to hear these thoughts which made Riah feel somewhat relieved. Arria returned a moment later with a platter of steaming food in hand. She placed it carefully at Leviathan’s place before slipping into the seat across from Riah.
“One of theseven has been removed.” Leviathan scooped stew into his mouth. “Poisoned and stuffed into a coffin to be precise.” His tone was bitter, but his expression was bland. “Silva,” he finished.
“We still have good news, however. We aregaining a lead on the Crown through my newest ally who may indeed replace Silva. Though, I hated to lose her even if she was a traitorous snake that thought she could sneak behind my back.” Riah’s lips parted to ask something, but he snapped his mouth shut as soon as the thought ignited. Was Leviathan truly sad to lose her or was it merely mockery?
Arria scoffed. “She was looking for the Crown for years.”
“For so much of her fleeting, human life,” Leviathan returned coldly.
“Why was she so eager to find the Crown? Hell, Leviathan, why are any of us so damned determined to find it?” Riah burst out.
Arria and Leviathan turned their widened eyes to Riah. This had been the first time he had ever called the Shadow Bearer by his name. Arria shifted. Leviathan cleared his throat, his voice like ice when he spoke. “Because if we do not find and destroy it, the Prince of the Between Realm, Lucius himself, will find and destroy us.”
Riah huffed a sigh and leaned back in his seat, shaking his head. “Then what does Lucius want with the Crown?”
“It would give him power over his enemy, to have the Crown of the kingdom he was banished from, a kingdom he once sought to take for himself.” The words were spoken quietly. Riah could not think to reply. He soaked in the words, attempting to grasp their meaning. His frustration would not wane. He knew nothing about anyone he was working with and what they were working for.
“Didn’t you have it once? Or, at least, know where it was?” he questioned.
Leviathan did not look at him. “Ilea lost it. And I haven’t an inkling as to its whereabouts. It could be at the bottom of the waters that separate us from the Other Lands for all we know.” Riah sat back, his mind grappling with the information. And suddenly, being away from Gnosi and his father’s shadow and being with dragons and a new friend wasn’t enough.
Leviathan finished his stew presently and rose to replace his hood on his head. His hair was now raven black, as Riah saw, but streaked with light blue. He turned towards the balcony and said gruffly, “I am goingto seeLucius now.” Then hetwistedinto the air and vanished.
Daniel has said that since he left Mingroth, he has not heard anything. He says that it is the time of Silence and that Elyon’s voice will not be heard until the Savior comes and the veil of Caelae is torn.”
-From the diary of Cassia Caddell, written during the Third Age
Thirty-Seven
A mountain of destruction loomed like a monster in the fogclung air. Cam swallowed and tightened her grip on the Lumenbird. Even the sun would not shine on the ruins of Mirabelle but crouched behind ominous clouds. Below them, the Silver Sea spread like a shimmering blanket of gray. It rippled to the shores of a small island on which a black structure was built. A green flag fluttered from the stronghold. Cam gazed at it in fascination. How had they never discovered the enemy to be so close?
“But then, I lived under the same roof as my enemy.” Wind and crashing waves filled Cam’s ears as the chills prickled her skin. Her black hair scattered against her chapped cheeks. When she lifted her gaze, her breathing hitched at the sight before her. Mirabelle drifted into a more distinct view. They approached what was once the realm of Imber Fel which was now draped in frozen silence. The once great wall, which had protected the realm from predators, was almost torn completely down the middle, allowing a dilapidated entrance into the realm. An overturned ship, nearly penetrated the sea’s surface.
Presently, the Lumenbirds came to hover over the ruins. From above, Cam’s eyes scanned every inch. Most of the structures were beaten to the ground as if a giant had taken a club and smashed and swung it into all the structures below. Others were still standing but were clearly unlivable. Straw from thatched roofs, rock, ashes, and debris scattered in the wind. Fragments of what used to be someone’s home floated by Cam, nearly colliding with her.
The ultimate dismay came when they were flown over where the ice castle was once built. What was once a magnificent castle was now a black hole in the ground where the tunnels led. Scattered around it were massive chunks of ice. “Are the other realms in ruins this...?” Cam could not finish. Her voice was low to prevent its breaking. Peter, who sat behind her with his chest pressed against her back, nodded. His jaw brushed the top of her head.
“Cole will tell you...” Cam cast onelast glance at the ruins of Imber Fel over her shoulder. It had once been a realm of peace, filled with people who, most of the time, did hardly anyone harm. And yet, they had been vanquished first.
Cam pictured the battle in her mind. She saw frantic movement and chaos. She pictured diving Shadow Bearers and dying soldiers. The ground was flesh. The Shadow Bearers bruised, battered, burned, and tormented it. There had been such a great number of Silva’s army that most were conquered, and no one was presented with the opportunity to flee and warn the neighboring realms.
Within the next hour, Cam saw below her what was left of the Royalty Realm. What had once been a prestigious castle upon a paradise-like hill was now caved in as she had expected. She had imagined a giant hand squashing the lands below, but what she saw left her breathless. Cracks lined the ground, forming enormous crevices in the earth. The crevices were inky black.
completely enveloped in water,
Cam realized that Mirabelle had been eaten from the inside out. Evil came from the inside, clawing its way out with ruthless spirit and bumbling barbarians.
The Lumenbirds hovered for a moment over the remains of the Royalty Realm’s castle. All had been decimated except for a small portion. The throne room was still intact beneath them. It was red; a bright, blinding, crimson color. It was like blood, shaped blood.
Roses .
Cam could not gasp, for it seemed as though a rock was resting in her throat. The entire throne room was covered in roses. Silva certainly left the ruins in her own particular style.
“A rose for each death,” Cam murmured. “Each rose represents one person’s blood and the thorns that pricked their flesh.” Sh
e tore her eyes from the scene, urging the Lumenbird to continue its flight.
Cam kept her eyes trained upon the horizon for the remaining time that passed. She dared not to look over the forests and fields below her. She did not care to know if they too had been eaten alive. She did, however, because she could not control her curiosity, drop her gaze below when a shout rose that the Medulla Realm was ahead.
Tears slipped down her cheeks. Home was no longer the vibrant shades of warmth. Home was no longer splashed in earth tones of greens and browns. All vegetation was heaped in black and green masses. Trees had fallen, houses crashing with them. It was as if a mighty storm had rained over Mirabelle. And reigned it had.
Cam’s feet slippedto theground. It was firmyet scattered with broken branches and enormous, fallen trees. Gusts of wind swept past. She brushed the hair from her face, and her eyes fastened on a heart-wrenching sight. Beyond the pile of tree debris, was a wasteland of charred stumps and a collection of stones. Hundreds. There were hundreds of small stones with names etched into them. “Grave markers,” Cam confirmed, stepping closer. Then she lifted her eyes to see beyond them. But she could not. There was no end to the myriad of lives lost; no end to the small stones with a fearful fate marking them.
She broke into a run. She shouldn’t have been running from the company, but her legs would not cease their quickening gait. A voice called after her. It was her name. Peter had called. She ran. She was ordered to halt. She ran. No more words were called after her. Her muscles barked in their stiffened state as the once familiar forest blurred past. She only heard her own thundering heart.
Cam stumbled and halted, her knees sinking to the ground. Her lungs begged for air. She gave them what they wished, clasping her hands over her chest. A knife carved marks into her heart. A mark for every life lost.
“Steady, Cam,” Peter said moments later when he had caught up. He sank beside her and gathered her in his arms.
A black, pointed spear jutted from the ground, dripping in crimson blood. The spear’s point ran directly through the heart of a dove. The bird’s wings and head sagged to the side.
Cam could see it all now, clearly and suddenly as if it had appeared through a hazy mist. Though Silva had left the decaying dove as a symbol of smiting the Spirit, Cam saw something else. “Peter,” Cam choked out. She clutched at his arm. “I see it now. Everything we’ve ever done.”
Peter’s arm tightened around her. “What, Cam?” he whispered softly. “What do you see?”
She swallowed, her eyes slipping shut. Blood stained her mind. “We’ve driven a spear through Elyon with every damned mistake we’ve made.” Tears pressed into her eyes. “We’ve run away from Him, and betrayed Him, and thrown away everything He’s ever done.”
“Iknow,” Peter said softly. Silence passedin which Cam’s choked cries were all that could be heard. “Sometimes, Cam, Elyon lets us suffer and even die. But we...we have done so much worse. Just being human makes us...like nothing.”
“And yet...He still loves us?”
Cam could hear Peter thinking as clearly as his heart’s steady beat in his chest. His voice was choked when he spoke. “He loves us all, Cam. That’s why He is sending a Savior.”
“Did...He love Silva?”
“Yes, I think He did.”
“But how?”
“Because He made her. Just like He made us. But shedid not choose Him.”
Cam’s tears dropped to the ground, mixing in the blood of the dove. Peter’s hands grasped her shoulders. He too was taking shuddering breaths. “Forgive me, Elyon,” she whispered.
At some point, Peter managed to haul Cam from the ground. Both were draped in mud. He guided her back through the forest even as he hobbled on his bad leg to where the company was mingling among the graves. A few cried, having seen markers of lost loved ones. Whose names would Cam find if she chose to look? She dared not try. Cam was hollow. All was muddled mountains of sickly green and ash. She trudged on, barely perceiving the warmth Peter offered as he slipped an arm through hers.
Then…astonishment.
It struck like lightning, frying her brain. Why had Silva left the castle of the Medulla Realm standing? Why was it that, among all structures in Mirabelle, this one stood? Firm though charred, it appeared as if several beings had hacked away at the stone, but it stood on four solid corners.
“How?”
Peter’s gasp matched her own. She slipped out of his hold, walking forward as if on air.
“It's the magic beneath,” she said in an airy breath. Only she heard her own words. “The Crown is under the castle.”
She was walking quickly until she ceased her steps and came face to face with the stone wall. Ivy and moss infested the reaching expanse. Above her, window panes were smashed and parts of the stone were dripping with black ash. Even fire could not bring the castle down.
Trees were scattered in all directions around the castle, within the garden too. She scrambled over the fallen limbs, stumbling but not registering pain as she collided with fallen timber. She heard pursuit from behind. She fell over a log, snapping a branch about her ankles, stinging her skin. She nearly fell to her knees when she reached the door. A tree had fallen before it, making the doorway impossible to reach from where she was. She pulled aside a branch, creating an opening large enough for her to climb through.
Cam reached the door. A wall of branches withered between her and the rest of the company. Her hand grazed the cold, steel door handle which was painted silver. Cam hesitated, the cold tingling her fingers and palm. The last time she had entered this place she had been bombarded with nightmares of her sister and grandfather. Their memories haunted the halls.
Her mind still whirled. Why had Silva not destroyed the castle? Wouldn’t she have suspected something strange due to its unwillingness? The door swung open. Shafts of dusty air blew into Cam’s nostrils and mouth. She coughed into her hand. When the dust had cleared and Cam could make out vague outlines within the dark interior, she stepped forward. Her steps, normally quiet, sounded like pandemonium in her ears. She jumped suddenly, her nerves seized in a trance. “Cam?” a low, kind voice echoed. She turned her head. “You’re alive.” She saw the scruff of his beard, two glittering eyes. “Father.”
His arms held her.
Safety encompassed her.
Cam was offered a chipped teacup. Whatever liquid inside was
scalding, streaming down her throat like licking flames. Burning as the whiskey and wine had done. She ignored it. Someone’s soft lips were on her forehead. Cam knew the smell. Like baked bread fresh from the oven and pine and lilac. Amelia. Cam’s smile was strained as her eyes welled with tears. Happy tears. The happiest tears she had cried in a long time. Cole was still near, and others were approaching. Amelia turned to hold Adria, asked her where Mista was. Cam did not look at Adria.
“We’re called the Remaining Remnant,” Cole said, his voice low and caressing in Cam’s ear. His hand rested on her shoulder as she held the cup in both hands and swept her eyes over the room. “Less than half of us are Spirit Followers. Some areformer rebels. Most ofus arejust common citizens. But we’re here together because…” He sighed. “That is all we can do now.”
Nearly fifty people were situated in corners and against walls in the front room of the castle. How many of these people had been the cause of her banishment? It didn’t matter to be bitter now. It was becauseofthem that shewasn’t destroyedwith Mirabelle.
The room was lit by a small fire set in the middle. The staircase had crashed. Rubble surrounded them. All doorways were blocked.
Except for one.
Cam tore her eyes from that door, returning her attention to her father. Amelia was weeping, holding her sister. “Your quest, Cam, how did it fare? What did you accomplish besides survival?” Colewas inquiring. They both knewthequestion to be stupid. She had left to help her own reputation, to help her gain access to realms she was shut out of. Now, those realms didn’t even exist.<
br />
Cam licked her dry lips. Her voice was distant and dull. “Silva is dead.”
Cole nodded. It was a full minute later after she had been seated when she added in a soft whisper, “I found the Savior. He has the key. I know where the Crown is.” Cole’s jaw dropped to the floor. His laughter was filled with hysteria. Tears pressed from the corners of his eyes. Cam gave him a weak, small smile. He stuttered, but no words were strung into a coherent sentence. Cam tilted her head towards the doorway where Peter and the small boy were just now entering.
“I can feel it,” Cole breathed. “I can feel a stirring in my very soul. Elyon does keep His promises.” The boy glanced in their direction, nodded slightly, and walked toward them, Peter at his side. “Does Peter know?”
Cam shook her head. “No. Only Fiera, Adria, and I. And Ilea.”
Cole’s brows rose. “So you did find her?” Cam motioned towards the woman who was standing midst their people silently. No sign of the scarlet cloak. Colefollowed his daughter’s gaze with his own. “She...looks so young.”
“But holds wisdom accounting more than all of ours combined. And years too.” Cam turned to her father, her eyes wavering. “She sacrificed so much for us, Father.”
“You should tell us everything when you are ready,” Cole returned after a long moment of silent reflection. “Tell Peter too.”
Within the next hour, Cam, though quite exhausted, stood before the room with Peter, Fiera, and others of their company. Their entrance into Mingroth, the games, Silva’s death, and the rescue of the hostages were all explained by Peter. No questions arose. All listened in earnest interest. “We’ve now returned, but unfortunately the magic could not be saved.”
Cam pushed through the people, coming to Peter’s side and brushing his arm with her hand. She whispered to him, “Actually, there is much more. And now that we are here and safe, I can tell you.”
Peter turned, his gaze holding Cam’s. “I knew there was more.” His smile was small but comforting.
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