Starfall (The Fables of Chaos Book 1)

by Jackson Simiana

  “Moon Mother, bless this royal wedding with your white light,” the True Luminance chanted with a raspy voice. His followers repeated after him, chanting to themselves. “Unify this couple for life.”

  Wesley stood up out of his chair, taking his wife’s hand and walked out in front of their dining table towards the True Luminance. Ciana was unsure; his mask looked alien to her, but Wesley gripped her hand firmly as if to tell her it was all going to be alright. He had seen a dozen Bleedings in his life and knew what had to be done.

  The True Luminance approached the couple and shouted. “Bring these two souls together, through life and through death.”

  Wesley gave his hand out to the True Luminance and nodded at Ciana to tell her to do the same. “Don’t worry.”

  Everyone in the hall was watching. Hundreds of eyes, all on them. The Seynards watched eagerly; the Blacktrees watched with confused looks.

  The True Luminance made a slice across the palm of Wesley’s right hand with the ceremonial knife. He grimaced at the sharp pain and felt warm blood flow from the wound.

  Ciana looked petrified, but knew she had to do what was expected. The True Luminance then sliced her left palm open in the same manner. Ciana winced but stood tall next to her husband.

  Emery Blacktree looked visibly concerned for his daughter. Yet, he said nothing and allowed it to continue.

  Wesley took his new wife’s cut hand with his own cut hand, raising them into the air. Their blood flowed together down their arms in rivers of red.

  The True Luminance rejoiced. “Hear me, Moon Mother! They have made their sacrifice. They are fit to remain together for all eternity, in the shadow of Rea and Ixo! For nothing is more sacred than blood.”

  The crowd applauded and cheered for Wesley and Ciana in a roar of support. Their fathers clapped in approval, Emery not looking as impressed as Tobius clearly was. Both smiled through the pain and kept their bleeding hands locked together.

  Wesley knew that once the Bleeding had been performed, that it was time for the bedding. He had hoped no one would bring it up, but before he could even think what to do next, the Caldaeans in the room all began chanting. “Once bled, it’s off to bed! Once bled, it’s off to bed!”

  Ciana’s eyes were wide with uncertainty.

  Wesley leant over to her and whispered, “We must keep our hands locked until we reach the bed chamber.”

  The crowd gathered around the couple, forming a tunnel between the people towards the side door of the feast hall. All the while, Wesley could not take his mind off the note Jodie had slipped him that remained in his pocket.

  Hand in hand, Wesley and Ciana were funnelled through towards the door by the True Luminance’s followers.

  In amongst the crowd, Wesley locked eyes with Jodie. She looked just as dejected as Wesley felt. But he knew he had no choice.

  I’m sorry, Jodie. What am I doing?

  “Once bled, it’s off to bed! Once bled, it’s off to bed!”

  Wesley and Ciana were taken through the side door with a cheer from the crowd. They were led by the lumins up a stone spiral staircase to the candle-lit bed chambers, where the doors were barred from the outside.

  They would be locked in all night.

  His hand ached. His arm was bloody. And before him, Ciana stepped up to the bed and undressed in the moonlight as was expected of her.

  I can’t do this.

  With teary eyes, Ciana gently took Wesley’s hand and placed it against her soft breast. She hesitantly kissed his neck, sending a chill down his body.

  He could not help himself but be aroused at the naked beauty before him, no matter how hard he tried not to.

  Wesley felt the weight of the world on his shoulders. He was going to crack.

  I have to do this, don’t I?

  Chapter 10 - The Greater Good

  King Emery Blacktree’s spinning head made it feel like he was almost levitating as he entered the guest chambers with his wife, Sirillia. It had been a long night of festivities, celebrating his daughter’s marriage to the Seynard prince.

  His thighs were sore from dancing. His throat ached from talking. His head was pounding from thinking. And the wine hadn’t helped one bit.

  Emery held the door open for Sirillia to enter before him. He faced Ser Yelin Mortimer and the other royal guards who had escorted them to their quarters at the end of the evening.

  “That will be all for tonight,” Emery said.

  The guards in black and silver armour bowed to their king respectfully.

  “I will have someone watch your door, my king,” Yelin said.

  “Oh, nonsense. That won’t be necessary.”

  Yelin tilted his head in confusion. “My king?”

  “We are probably safer here in Caldaea than we are back home,” Emery said. “The Seynards probably have plenty of guards roaming the Chateau at night.”

  Ser Yelin was insistent. “My king, it is my job to keep you safe-”

  “And to follow my orders,” Emery said in a light-hearted tone. “Relax, Yelin. Have a night off. Go have a drink and find a pretty eastern girl to dance with.”

  Emery patted the man on his plated shoulder with a smirk.

  “It would make me feel a whole lot more relaxed if I knew that someone I trusted was guarding your door, my king,” Yelin chuckled.

  Emery huffed. “Alright, if you insist. Have one of your men stationed out here, if it makes you feel better.”

  “Thank you, my king,” Yelin said with a bow. “I will have Davyd on first watch.”

  “Have yourself a good night, Yelin.”

  “And you, my king. Creator’s grace.”

  The opulence of their room was astounding. Moonlight streamed in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The canopy bed looked rather old, with beautiful patterns engraved in the headboard and spear symbols decorating the posts. Enormous ceramic planters adorned the corners of the rooms, spilling over with well-watered, lush foliage and flowers.

  Sirillia was seated comfortably on the upholstered couch, picking at a platter of sweet fruits and cheeses on the knee-high ornate table before her.

  Emery noticed that the candlelight made her skin look a far healthier colour than how it usually appeared.

  He sat beside Sirillia, taking off his crown and placing it carefully on the table. Each time he did that, it felt like a huge weight off his shoulders.

  Emery ran his fingers up his wife’s bony arm. Her gaze was elsewhere. He could see in her eyes that she was trying to get her mind off something.

  Probably worried for Ciana. Emery had to admit, he did not like the idea of his daughter locked in a room with Prince Wesley for the night, but it was tradition.

  He had no say in the matter.

  “Would you like me to run you a bath?” Emery asked.

  “How can you act so… so…” Sirillia began, brushing his hand away.

  “So relaxed?”

  She nodded. “Are you not anxious at all?”

  “Of course, I am, dear. But I do not let it take hold of me.”

  Emery poured a cup of water for Sirillia. He took out a vial of clear liquid he’d been given from one of the Seynards’ best apothecaries and added a few drops into the water to help her sleep. He handed her the cup.

  “It’s fine, I’m not thirsty.”

  “Drink,” Emery whispered, pushing her hands gently towards her mouth. “It will help. I want you feeling well-rested.”

  Sirillia took a sip of the refreshing water, moistening her cracked lips.

  “We should be proud of our daughter. Today she has become a true woman. She will be queen of Caldaea,” Emery said.

  Sirillia took another mouthful of water as the king continued.

  “This marriage is more than just a marriage. It sets Ciana up for a bright future. With this wedding, we will finally see piece between our kingdoms. She will help link our two powerful families together in harmony. She will live in a grand castle by the sea on the west coas
t, surrounded by fertile lands and sun-swept vistas…”

  Sirillia placed the empty goblet on the table. Some life had returned to her cheeks. “She is so young.”

  Emery exhaled. “We must be grateful that our family has the option available to marry her to someone near her own age, Sirillia! Baron Ryle was fifty years older than his wife when they were wed!”

  Sirillia shook her head with worry. “What about all the rumours of Tobius and his late wife?”

  “We must not let rumour dictate our actions.”

  Emery did not let Sirillia see it, but in all honesty, he did hold some worry about the late Queen Alina, who had passed ten years earlier.

  Emery had heard from multiple sources that Tobius was a wife-beater, and that her death may not have been accidental. Some even claimed that their son, Wesley, was witness to his violence.

  Yet, Emery’s spies and informants could never validate the rumours. He chalked it up as propaganda and exaggeration.

  “I worry Ciana’s new husband may end up like his father,” Sirillia said.

  “Queen Alina was a good woman. She was kind and gentle. I’m sure some of that must have rubbed off on the boy.”

  “You’re right. I know you are right. Alas, I still feel the way I feel.” Sirillia said.

  “That is because you are a loving mother with a kind soul, and you want what is best for your babies.”

  Sirillia met Emery’s gaze. “Is this what is best for her?”

  Her question was met with a long pause, as Emery compiled a response. He did not want to lie, but he did not want his wife anguishing any further.

  “This is what is best,” Emery said.

  “At least with Petir we knew what we were getting into with Jodie. The Mannerings were always friends with Ashen.”

  “How are we to make new friends, my love? Offering Ciana’s hand in marriage is the most powerful symbol we could have offered to Tobius Seynard.”

  “Our first-born girl-”

  “Has brought peace to a long period of conflict and tension. Peace is the way of the future, to stabilise our foothold over Ashen, the strengthen our economy, our diplomatic relations, and our people’s way of life.”

  “At the expense of our daughter’s happiness, and potentially her wellbeing?” Sirillia rebutted.

  Emery could only shake his head and shrug his shoulders. “Would you prefer we left our children with a kingdom torn apart by war?”

  Emery could not predict the future, and he had made all the arguments he could possibly think of to try and lessen the burden of fear his wife was suffering with.

  Emery trusted within himself that he had made the right decision for Ciana and for his people.

  Sirillia stood up and gracefully walked over to the lit fireplace. She grabbed a fire poker and began stoking the flames, kneeling before the magnificent structure. Her eyes stared into the dancing flames.

  The fire crackled as it was poked.

  Emery could not decipher whether Sirillia truly believed him or not.

  “I’m sure you will forget about all of this by tomorrow when you see how happy Ciana is at the Uniting Tourney,” Emery said. “Competitions, races, feasts, music, drinking, dancing. Nobody throws a celebration like the Seynards do.”

  Emery went to pour himself another glass of wine, despite his pounding headache.

  “Uh-uh, I think you’ve had quite enough already,” Sirillia said.

  Emery nearly spat out the sip he had taken as he laughed. “You dare tell a king what he can and cannot do?”

  “Lest I need to endure another one of your passionate political conversations like the one you already had with Tobius Seynard,” Sirillia joked.

  “That man is as tolerable as he is intelligent,” Emery said. “I sometimes feel I’d have more luck striking diplomacy with a privy.”

  Sirillia could not help but smirk as she sat back down. “You insult a family in their own castle?”

  Emery leaned in and kissed his wife softly on the lips. “Oh? And what do you have to say about it?”

  Sirillia returned the kiss, wrapping her arms around him and running her hands through his silky black hair. Emery felt her small, frail body relax as he took her in his arms, refusing to end the long kiss first.

  Despite her sudden ageing and sickliness of late, Emery could still see past the outer façade at the beauty he had fallen in love with so many years ago.

  Sirillia pushed Emery back, licking her lips. “Perhaps Wesley will prove a more exceptional king one day than his father.”

  Emery sipped his wine. “I pray to the Creator for such a blessing.”

  So many years of turmoil had gone by that, truth be told, Emery had never expected a peaceful conclusion with Tobius Seynard and the border wars.

  “Tomorrow we will celebrate new beginnings for our families and our kingdoms,” Sirillia said.

  Her face seemed less tense; Emery’s attempts to distract her must have been working.

  Emery nodded, kissing his wife’s forehead. “Come, my love. I will run you that bath, and we will spend the rest of our evening taking our mind off politics.”

  “If only for one night,” Sirillia smirked.

  “I will take all I can get.”

  Chapter 11 - Decrepit

  Katryna Bower made her way to her father’s chambers with the castle servant Edrick and two Infinity Guardsmen, ascending the dark, constricting stairwells of Castle Bower. The higher up they climbed, the colder the air seemed to become.

  The corridor outside King Giliam’s room was a hive of activity.

  Jerrem Denar and a group of doctors and physicians were reporting to High Sword Arthus Medonia and some other royal guards. Two Infinity Guardsmen stood like unbreakable sentries at the king’s door with Aunt Rashel.

  Aunt Rashel saw her niece and promptly moved to greet her with a comforting smile.

  “How are you feeling, love?” Aunt Rashel asked Katryna. She took her hands in a warm embrace and looked straight into her eyes with concern. Rashel’s eyes were red and puffy; she had clearly been crying.

  “Feeling a little better,” Katryna said. “I had something to eat and had a rest.”

  Katryna’s pulse was racing, and she could feel her lungs tightening again. She did not know what to expect on the other side of the oak door.

  “Good, good. Jerrem Denar and the physicians have been with your father. He is not in good shape, they say. They are unsure how much longer he has,” Rashel said solemnly.

  The words cut Katryna like a sword strike. Her head slumped down. Too many emotions began to scream inside her mind all at once.

  Aunt Rashel held her niece in a tight hug before whispering into her ear. “I’m just glad you arrived when you did.”

  “So am I,” Katryna said.

  “Let’s go in and see him.”

  The moment had come. The moment Katryna had both been longing for and dreading at the same time.

  The Infinity Guardsmen stepped aside to let Katryna and Aunt Rashel through into the king’s chambers. The oak door swung open with a groan like an old tree.

  A thick waft of stale air hit Katryna’s nostrils. King Giliam’s room was gloomy, illuminated with the faint glow of candles and a dying fire in the hearth.

  At the end of the large chamber was a canopy bed with red and white silk curtains hanging down. Rowan and Finnigan were seated next to a sickly old man who lay under a thick duvet.

  The old man looked like a corpse. His skin was as pale as moonlight with sunken eyes and cracked lips. He had blue bruises all over his dried skin.

  That cannot be father. It cannot be.

  Aunt Rashel took Katryna’s hand. She only realised then that she had been standing frozen in place for a few moments.

  The room was silent except for their uncertain footsteps as they came to Giliam’s bedside. Katryna felt tears welling from her eyes when she realised that it was in fact her father before her.

  He looked so old, so fra
il. So close to death.

  Rowan and Finn moved aside to let Katryna see their father. Rashel sat beside the old man’s sweat-stained pillow, running her fingers through his thinning wisps of hair.

  Katryna felt as stiff as rock, standing beside him. No matter how hard she inhaled, she felt like she could not get enough air into her lungs.

  “Father?” Katryna breathed, before kneeling at his side.

  Giliam opened his bloodshot eyes, turning slowly to look at his daughter. A sort of smile spread across his wrinkled face before forming into a grimace and a deep cough.

  Every move he made seemed like agony.

  Giliam reached his bony hand out to feel Katryna’s face.

  “Katryna?” His once proud, booming voice had shrunk into a dying man’s whimper.

  “Yes, father. It’s me. I’m here now. I’m here.”

  Giliam attempted another smile with his thin lips. “I am…so glad you have come,” he spoke slowly. “I missed you more… more than you could ever know.”

  “Could we have a moment?” Katryna asked, looking to her other family members. Finn, Rowan, and Aunt Rashel glared at one-another and then back at Katryna before nodding and leaving the room, respecting her request for privacy.

  Katryna held her father’s hand to help relieve the guilt she still bared for leaving so many years ago.

  She could not help but notice how the alleged poison had devastated Giliam’s body. The king was old, but the poison had aged him by decades. Patches of skin were blue, his hair had nearly all fallen out, and his gums was bloody.

  Katryna’s emotions were beginning to boil over at the sight of her father. It had been so long, and she could not accept that this was how his life was going to end. She felt the guilt swirling around in her mind in a whirlpool of pain, frustration, and fear.

  So many years of pain.

  “It has been a long while, hasn’t it, father?” Katryna said with a light-hearted smirk. “As soon as I got word of what happened to you and mother, I left Redwatch for home.”

  “Home…” Giliam breathed.