Starfall (The Fables of Chaos Book 1)

by Jackson Simiana

  In the recesses of his mind, Dyr could hear the distant screams of the ship’s crew as they suffered this horrific fate. The cracks of bone, the dripping of blood, the howls of agony.

  Dyr could only repeat his question. “What could have done this?”

  Act III

  Fire in the Sky

  Chapter 25 - Consequences

  Ten years earlier…

  Katryna Bower peeked through the opening between the towering, red, oak doors before her, into the Castle Bower war room. Right behind her was her handmaiden Trish who tried to peer through as well.

  At fourteen years of age, the two girls were both quite pretty and adorned long frilly dresses of different colours. Trish’s golden hair was braided in a ponytail while Katryna worse hers out.

  “It looks empty,” Katryna whispered. “Come on.”

  “M’lady, wait,” Trish murmured with a worried tone, grabbing Katryna’s shoulder. “Are you sure? I don’t think your father-”

  “He won’t mind! It’s fine.” The rush to explore a place she wasn’t supposed to go was strong.

  “Your mother will mind. You are supposed to be in your room studying.”

  Katryna scrunched her face up. She knew the war room was off limits to children, and it was especially taboo to include women in such affairs of state. But she had always wanted to see what was behind those huge red doors.

  She looked back in through the crack. She could not make anything out with clarity; only a few candles were lit within.

  “Mother never lets me do anything exciting anymore,” Katryna complained. “I’m forbidden from attending festivals and weddings. I’m rarely ever allowed to leave the castle anymore, Trish. She hides me away like some fiend.”

  Trish looked at Katryna sympathetically with comforting, forest-green eyes. “I know it’s frustrating, but you must follow the rules your parents set out for you.”

  Katryna could see the fear in Trish’s face. She was a girl who was raised a follower, and she was afraid of the repercussions.

  Katryna thought back to her race with Willem two years earlier. The thrill of the wind blowing through her hair as she weaved in and out of buildings and crowds, the coolness of the water of Pott’s Creek, and the joy she felt in spending time with her twin brother.

  Katryna remembered what she had told Willem that day. “I want to do what I want to do, not what I’m forced to do. And right now, I want to go inside. I have lived in this castle my entire life and have never seen what’s within.”

  Trish anxiously looked down the corridor they were in, making sure there were no onlookers to stop them, before nodding. “Alright, but quickly.”

  With a grin on her freckled face, Katryna opened the doors to the war room and crept in. Trish was right on her tail like a nervous hound.

  The war room was rarely used and, as such, had a musty, old scent to it. It was immense in size, spanning two storeys in height with an enormous, rounded chandelier hanging from the domed ceiling. The walls were trimmed with stunning timber mouldings of various symbols and designs.

  Trish walked to the other end of the room and found a lever by the far wall. Katryna instructed her to pull it.

  The shutters against the wall pulled back into the pillars standing the corners of the room, revealing floor-to-ceiling stained-glass windows. Trish smiled at the view of the ocean that was slowly revealed before her.

  With the shutters being pulled back, the dark room was flooded with a wave of sunlight.

  Katryna’s face lit up with astonishment at the marvels surrounding her. Higher up, the walls were decorated with enormous frescoes of faded paint, depicting battles fought long ago. Full suits of chainmail and plated armour stood beside long weapon racks with every type of weapon imaginable, from swords, shields, and spears, to maces, war hammers, and flails.

  Banners bearing the spiral pattern of flower and vines, the Bower family sigil, hung from the stone pillars lining the room. The red and white sigil was powerful yet elegant- a striking metaphor for Camridia and Castle Bower, yet the opposite of how Katryna saw her family and her House.

  But the most striking feature of the war room was located at its centre. A monumental, waist-high table with a painted map of Alyria on it, spanning metres in length and beautifully crafted with rich details.

  “Wow,” Trish said, walking over to admire the table. “Is that… the whole world?”

  “Not quite,” Katryna replied, running her hands softly around the edges of the continent. “This is only the nine kingdoms in Alyria.”

  Trish exhaled. “There’s more?”

  “There sure are. There are whole islands and even another continent out there.”

  The table was grand, each kingdom labelling and highlighting the notable cities, landmarks, and borders in an immaculate display. The mountain ranges of Alyria jutted out three-dimensionally from the table, with the Creator’s Fist in the north a standout, given its height and size.

  Katryna pointed to Frostcliff, in the Highlands. “That’s where my father found you,” she said fondly.

  Trish was in awe. “And where’s Tewin’s Eye?”

  Katryna looked around for the island, spotting it even further north out to sea. “There… is that where you are originally from?”

  Trish shrugged. “I think so… but I don’t quite remember, to be honest. We used to always travel all along the northern coast. My father never actually told me where I was born.”

  Trish had only come into her family’s service recently, after her father’s trip to Frostcliff. It was a pleasant surprise for Katryna- the girl was attractive, yet somewhat reserved. But she was a capable handmaiden and becoming a good companion.

  “Alright, I’ll admit it, m’lady. This was worth it,” Trish said with a grin. She too was just as fascinated by the war room.

  “You don’t always have to call me ‘m’lady’, you know Trish,” Katryna joked. “Makes me feel like some snob.”

  Trish bit her lip and raised an eyebrow. “Well…”

  Katryna scoffed with a smile. “I am not!”

  “You’re not far from it, if you don’t mind me saying, m’lady!”

  “I do mind, actually!”

  The girls laughed before shooshing each other, remembering where they were. They did not want to be caught.

  “I’ll take that on board,” Trish said.

  “You can call me Katryna, or Kat. When we’re not around others, that is.”

  “Alright,” Trish said with a cheerful smile. She kept staring at Katryna with admiration in her eyes, before peering back to the table.

  “So which kingdom is yours?” Trish asked.

  “My family’s, you mean?”

  “Yes.”

  Katryna pointed to Camridia in the southeast of the continent. “All of this is Camridia. And we are… here.” She fingered the symbol for Ravenrock.

  Trish studied the symbols and shapes. “It’ll be yours one day!”

  Katryna shook her head. “After my father, Rowan will be the next king. And then Rowan’s son after him.”

  “But… you are older than he is? I thought the crown went to the oldest-”

  “A woman can’t be king.”

  “Why not?”

  Katryna chuckled. “A woman can be queen to a king, but in Camridia, only men can take the throne. That is how it has always been.”

  Trish was visibly confused. “That’s a bit messed up.”

  “It’s the law and always has been. Besides, I don’t want to be queen.”

  “Why not? You’d make an excellent queen,” Trish said, resting against the table.

  “I wouldn’t.”

  “I think you would. You are smart, fair, and you value important things. I think you would be a great queen. Queen Katryna.”

  Katryna could not help but feel warm by the certainty in Trish’s voice. She could see that the handmaiden really looked up to her. Nonetheless, she shook the ridiculous thoughts from her mind. She kn
ew she did not have what it took to be a ruler.

  Imagine mother’s reaction if I ever became queen! She’d drop dead on the spot!

  Suddenly, there was noise coming from outside the war room. The girls spun to look back at the red doors, but it was too late for them to even attempt to hide.

  The doors swung open and two Infinity Guardsmen marched in. Their visors covered their faces, but judging by the brutish way they lumbered in, they did not appear impressed.

  “Uh oh,” Katryna said. “Caught.”

  The guards forced Katryna and Trish to the king and queen’s quarters. Inside, Mira Bower was sitting in an armchair beside the lit fireplace, caressing a soft toy with her long, spindly fingers.

  Next to the armchair sat a side table, covered in a sprawling mess of opened letters, old papers and a letter opener.

  She did not rise as the guards came in with her daughter and daughter’s handmaiden. She did not even glance at them.

  The room was gloomy, with its curtains drawn and low fire burning.

  “My queen, we found the princess and her handmaiden sneaking around in the war room,” one of the guards informed.

  Katryna looked to her mother, noticing the bags under her eyes and the toy she was holding.

  It was one of Willem’s toys.

  “Leave us,” the queen muttered, eyes still glued to the fire.

  The guards exited. Katryna and Trish stood side by side nervously. Katryna rubbed her hands together, anticipating what was to come.

  Trish had never met the queen, Katryna realised. She must have been feeling rather anxious.

  “Mother… I-”

  “Save it.” The queen rose, dropping the soft toy in the cushion of the armchair. “Not another word.”

  Queen Mira seemed to hover like a spectre towards the girls in her long, wrinkled dress. Her hair was unbrushed, hanging over her face, and her dull eyes were bloodshot. She stood before them in such a way that Katryna could only view her as some crone. Trish averted her gaze and stared down at her feet, trembling.

  “What were you doing?” Mira asked in a soft voice.

  “I was just having a look around,” Katryna said.

  Mira grabbed her daughter firmly by the face, pressing her cheeks hard enough that it became uncomfortable.

  “Do not lie to me.”

  “I’m not lying, mother. I’ve never seen inside the war room before. I wanted to see inside, that’s all.”

  Mira squeezed harder.

  “Mother, you’re hurting me!”

  “She’s telling the truth, my queen!” Trish interjected. “We were just curious is all.”

  Mira released her daughter’s face, sneering at Trish. “You are a beauty, aren’t you?”

  The queen brushed a few strands of Trish’s blonde hair out from her face before staring her down. “You must be my daughter’s new handmaiden I’ve heard so much about.”

  “Yes, my queen. I’m T-Trish, from Frostcliff. The king hired me into your f-family’s service.”

  “Pfft, my husband hires a filthy northerner to wait on my filthy daughter? Indeed, how very fitting.” Queen Mira reeked of old wine and unwashed clothes as she got into Trish’s face.

  “Mother, please, we we’re doing anything wrong-”

  “I said shut up!” the queen snapped, backhanding Katryna in the face so hard that it knocked her to the floor. Katryna stayed down, holding her burning cheek and glaring up as her mother continued to lurk around Trish.

  “Tell me, Trish,” Mira said, “what experience do you have of being a handmaiden?”

  “N-none, my queen.”

  “Which lords or ladies have you served before becoming a handmaiden to the princess of Camridia?”

  “None, my queen.”

  “What knowledge do you possess on Camridian culture and law? Do you know that it is strictly forbidden for outsiders to enter the war room without permission? And that women are barred from such affairs of state?”

  “I wasn’t aware of that, my queen. I’m sorry.”

  The queen smirked. “Tell me, what work did you do before entering into my husband’s service?”

  Trish maintained her downward stare, too afraid to look up at the wide-eyed woman grimacing in her face. “My father was a trader,” Trish mumbled.

  The queen wrapped a lock of Trish’s hair around her fingers and began to pull, snapping Trish’s head backwards awkwardly and painfully.

  “Did I ask what your father did? What did you do for work?!”

  “I…I…”

  “Mother, please, she did nothing wrong,” Katryna begged.

  “Silence, you wretched bitch.” Mira pulled on Trish’s hair even harder until her eyes were teary. “Who are you? What did you do for work?”

  “I…I…” Trish was in too much agony to speak. “Please, let go.”

  “You were a whore, weren’t you? You sold your body to men.”

  “My queen please!”

  A single drop of blood ran down Trish’s face as the hair began ripping from her scalp.

  “You let those disgusting old sailors have their way with you for a few marks each night, didn’t you? Probably without daddy’s knowledge.”

  “Mother, stop!”

  Trish cried. “Yes, yes, yes, my queen. But he made me! Please, let go.”

  “Your father joined in every now and then, didn’t he?”

  Trish was a bubbling mess, tears and blood rolling down her face. She was unable to resist screaming in pain, having her ability to talk taken away.

  Mira tugged so hard that it ripped out the lock of hair. Trish doubled over, shrieking in pain as blood leaked from her torn scalp.

  Katryna cried out, covering her mouth with her hands. But there was nothing she could do.

  “Hmm,” Queen Mira said, completely unphased by what she had just done. She threw Trish’s golden lock aside, a piece of skin still attached at the end. The handmaiden fell to her knees, pressing her hands against her bleeding scalp and shaking.

  “I knew it. I could smell it on you.” Mira grimaced at Katryna. “You try to bring dishonour to my family by allowing a pathetic whore to be your handmaiden?”

  “No, mother, not at all. She isn’t a whore.”

  Trish was cowering, whimpering like an injured animal.

  “As if I would believe any word you say. You are no daughter of mine.”

  The words stung like a wasp sting.

  The queen circled around the girls. Katryna tried leaning over to comfort Trish, but Queen Mira pushed her away to keep them separated.

  “Let this be a reminder to you,” Mira said, staring down at her daughter. Queen Mira grabbed the letter opener from the side table and slashed at Trish’s face in one smooth swipe. The handmaiden cried out as blood streamed from the ugly, open gash that ran down the length of her soft, elegant face.

  Katryna cried, holding her fists over her face, filled with rage. Why hurt Trish? Why not hurt Katryna, if she hated her so damn much?

  Trish ran her bloody fingers across the side of her face and screamed upon realising how deep the cut was.

  “Guards!” the queen screamed, promptly followed by the two guards entering. “Find a cell for this whore to stay in. I want her out of my sight. And take the princess to her quarters- she is confined there until I say otherwise.

  Chapter 26 - Ashes

  “You are an insolent fool!” King Tobius Seynard shouted at the top of his lungs. His croaky voice echoed hauntingly through the Chateau Cardell throne room. “No, you are worse than a fool! You are… you are…”

  The king was lost for words as he yelled at his son, Wesley, who was knelt before the throne, staring down at the king’s shoes with a blank face.

  Ser Isec Batir stood like a statue beside his king’s throne, as was customary for the captain of the city watch. On the other side of the enormous bronze throne with its spearhead-shaped backboard stood the king’s personal bodyguard. The man’s name was Sen Dorval, and he wa
s the largest person Isec had ever seen- easily two feet taller than Isec.

  An absolute beast of a man.

  The king had not yet knighted Dorval, on account of his history of violence which had earned him the nickname of ‘The Ogre’. But the man was built like a bull, so a bodyguard was a good fit for him.

  The king continued hurling insults at his son. All Isec could focus on was what was to come next. His prince had made a reckless and potentially dangerous decision by harming and nearly killing Prince Petir at the tourney earlier that day.

  It twisted Isec’s stomach. He was filled with dread about the repercussions that would surely follow. After so many years of heightened tension from the border conflict, it was the last thing anyone wanted to happen.

  “I’d have half a mind to throw you in a cell and leave you to rot, boy!” the king spat, taking a sip of his wine. “You have set back relations between Caldaea and Ashen by a fucking century! We may never recover from this!”

  The royal scribe struggled to keep up with the king’s insults, scribbling hastily across his parchment. The noise of the quill across the parchment became so loud, and Tobius so frustrated, that the king threw his empty cup at the seated scribe. The man fell off his chair, spilling ink all over the tiled floor.

  “Get out, you imbecile! Get out, I say!”

  Isec stepped in, gently placing a hand on the king’s shoulder. “My king, we always keep records of our official affairs. The scribe is only doing his job,” Isec stated calmly.

  Someone needs to be the voice of reason in this shitfest.

  “What part of this sounds ‘official’ to you, you moronic oaf?!” Tobius shouted. Saliva ran from his dried lips and his crown was once again lopsided. “Don’t lecture me in my own throne room, Batir. You there, scribe, get out of my sight.”

  Isec bowed to his king and fell back into his place beside the throne as the scribe gathered his quill and parchment and shuffled away.

  “And there goes my bloody wine too!” Tobius sneered.

  This is going to be a very long day indeed.