Fragments of Light

by Beth Hodgson

  “…And the God of Light hurled the brilliant light of his right hand to the earth, shattering it amongst the peoples. For no person, nor any being besides the God of Light himself, should possess the Spectrum of Magic.

  And thus it was so. The fragmented light split into the colors of the world. Each color chose an inhabitant of the earth, transforming them into The Gifted.”

  —excerpt from The Spectrum

  Recorded by Piountus Aventus, 483 M.E.

  “The creation of light is through complements, for each color yearns for its other half. For the two colors opposite can eradicate all shades of darkness.”

  —Indradhanush Granthon, The Rainbow Mantras

  Recorded by Brihaspati Kaartikeya, 3182 B.E.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Arcadia. The most technologically advanced city-kingdom in the entire region. The crowning jewel of the west.

  Prince Derek held his breath, marveling as he peered out the window from inside his air transport. Far below the flying vehicle lay a vast sea of towering skyscrapers, shimmering in all their glory. The clouds that clung to the building tops drank in the colors of the city, illuminating the twilight sky in hues of blues and violets. The heart of the city held Arcadia’s royal palace, the very place where Derek was heading. The glowing green gothic glass structure loomed over the city, making the other skyscrapers appear like toys. Its long turrets impaled the clouds, reaching for the evening sky. One turret was especially higher than the others, its shadowy figure rising against the full moon.

  Derek’s palms broke out in a cold sweat just thinking about Princess Emerald, the one who occupied that turret. The last he saw the princess was when he was twenty-one years old. Seven years had passed since then. And every day for seven years, Emerald’s image burned within his mind.

  What would Emerald say when she saw him? Would she be as friendly with him now as she had been in her youth?

  Derek nervously toyed with his jet-black crown of loose curls, then closed one of the clasps of his cobalt tunic. It had been opened by his neck to cool him during the long transport ride, allowing him a bit of comfort. The blue brought out the color of his icy eyes in contrast to his black hair and pale skin. Since he was traveling, he didn’t want to wear his large ruff collar along with his back spikes, the grand fashion he was known for.

  As his transport landed, the city below slowly grew dark as the sun set off in the horizon and was replaced with an expanse of flashing neon lights in all colors of the spectrum. Stepping out of the vehicle, Derek’s long black cape caught a strong gust of wind, exposing his tall stature and muscular form. The high levels of Arcadia, or any city for that matter, had strong wind currents, unlike the mid and lower levels.

  The lower levels… the underbelly of the city. Thank God he never had to step foot down there.

  Derek’s eyes wandered again to the tallest turret, wondering if the princess had seen his arrival. His eyes lingered a few moments longer, then he turned his attention to the palace guards approaching him. With them was King Damaris’s advisor, Councilor Emerys.

  Emerys bowed, meeting Derek’s entourage. “Your Highness.”

  “Councilor Emerys,” Derek said, nodding his head in greeting.

  “We were not expecting you so soon. I was told you would be visiting these parts later in the season,” the advisor said, his dark eyes weary. Emerys took a small handkerchief from his embroidered gray robes, patting the sweat from his brow. Derek noticed a silver streak across the councilor’s receding hairline and dark bags under his eyes. It appeared that the stress of advising Arcadia was taking a toll on Emerys’s body. Derek couldn’t blame the councilor—if anyone had to advise King Damaris, they would age quickly too.

  “Forgive me, Councilor, that was the original plan,” Derek said. “But some time opened up in my schedule to visit sooner. I hope I am not imposing. I know it didn’t give you much time to prepare for my arrival.”

  I would have been here years ago if it weren’t for my father and Damaris’s falling out, Derek thought.

  “Not at all,” Emerys said with a small smile. “We all had thought that you would never grace our presence again, considering… the circumstances…” His voice trailed off, then he cleared his throat, leading him into the palace with Derek’s entourage following suit. “However, when word came that you were to pay us a visit, many excited whispers began circulating within Arcadia’s court.”

  “Indeed. It took much convincing of my father to make such a visit.” Derek sighed flatly under his breath, disappointed Emerys didn’t say more on the matter. To this day, Derek still had no idea what had happened between his father and Damaris years ago. No one seemed to know, or else if they did, no one said anything regarding the matter.

  “How is His Majesty of York as of late? I have been told of many infrastructure improvements within York, along with the markets rising every day,” Emerys said.

  “My father is extremely well. York is in the best state it has been in during the twenty years that my father has reigned.”

  “Truly wonderful. And you? No wife?” Emerys inquired slyly, hinting a smile.

  Derek felt his nerves trying to take over, but he pushed them aside. “Not yet, Councilor, although I do hope not to remain eligible forever,” Derek joked mildly, running his fingers through his short curls.

  Emerys gave a knowing look, grinning. “Rightfully so. Well, there are plenty of eligible ladies within the houses of Arcadia. Most will be in attendance this evening. The lords will be grateful to see you again as well, along with the Arcadia press, I am sure.”

  “What’s the occasion?”

  “You are fortunate to have arrived on a good night, as the King decided to throw quite a large party with the houses of Arcadia. Don’t ask me why, he just happened to be in one of his rare pleasant moods the last couple of weeks. Also in attendance will be the lords from the other territories, such as Prince Xirxi of the Twin Kingdoms, Lord Varian from Olympia, and a few barons from the Second Kingdom.”

  “Well, I shall be happy to see familiar faces,” Derek stated, flashing a nervous smile.

  “Your family is much missed in this kingdom,” Emerys said, pausing to glance at Derek. “It would be a great thing to reestablish the old alliance between our kingdoms.”

  “I, for one, would like to see that as well, Councilor,” Derek said, nodding in agreement. “I hope to mend the tensions and past transgressions that took place between Arcadia and York.”

  Whatever transgression that is, Derek thought, annoyed.

  “I know several on the Inner Council who would like to see that as well, Your Highness.”

  As they walked through the palace, many people recognized him and bowed as he passed by. Courtesans, lords and ladies, barons, and many of the serving staff all stood in awe of his arrival. There were gasps of excitement, thrilled whispers, and a few joyous, secretive finger points. Derek flashed the courtesans a nervous smile as he walked by, already anxious for the evening’s event.

  Emerys stopped at the bottom of a grand black marble staircase that curved off to the left, with multiple glass lifts framed in silver on the other side of the hall.

  “Just up those stairs are the Sapphire Quarters. I think they will suit you,” the councilor said with a bow. “Take all the time you need to freshen up before dinner. There are some guests that have already arrived, but the party doesn’t start for another hour. Do not worry about showing up late. It will be quite the surprise for many of those attending who haven’t heard the gossip about your unexpected arrival.”

  “Thank you, Councilor,” Derek said, heading up the stairs with his personal entourage of servants and guards.

  “By the way, I am sure that the princess of Arcadia will be delighted to see you. She has been quite a bit… lonely these last few years,” Emerys called out. “I do hope you get a chance to converse with her.” The councilor flashed him a knowing smile, then bowed, motioning for the guards to be on their way.
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br />   Turning, Derek headed up the rest of the staircase. As he was ascending, he gave himself a private smile. Perfect, he thought.

  His personal guards led him to the Sapphire Quarters, opening the double doors and revealing the interior of the sitting room. Its walls were in deep shades of blue, with black-and-white checkered marble floors, black furniture, and silver polished accents throughout. Derek was notorious for wearing mostly blues, and he wondered if Emerys knew that fact, as it seemed highly coincidental he was being housed in this particular wing of the palace.

  Walking past the sitting room, Derek entered the master bedroom. In it was a large bed adorned with azure silk sheets and twisted black posts that reached to the ceiling. It was stationed near a grand window with a sliding glass door that led to a private balcony, where there was a small garden dotted with blue and white flowers, hanging vines, and an iron-rod table and chairs.

  His servants began unpacking his belongings, laying out his outfit for the evening. Derek nodded in approval at their choice, then began to undress. His servant Silas had selected a deep-blue doublet with a black fur collar and large puff sleeves accented with black stripes and silver details. For his bottom half, they chose snug black pants along with black leather boots.

  “Is the jewelry still packed?” Derek asked.

  “Yes, Your Highness. It will be brought up with the next set of guards.” Silas bowed.

  “And my back spikes? Where are those?” Derek eyed the room, starting to get impatient for the evening. “I presume that they are with the jewelry.”

  Silas bowed. “They are, Your Highness.”

  “Please send communication to the guards on the platform. I want them brought up as soon as possible. I want the back spikes and the sapphire jewelry set.”

  Silas bowed, then went to the next room to call for the guards. Other servants were still bringing in his belongings, setting up the room for use.

  As he began to remove his traveling tunic, he unzipped the inside pocket. He reached inside, and his hands emerged with a small, velvet box. Upon opening it, his heart beat quickly as he gazed upon a large emerald ring with a platinum setting, fashioned with swirled scrollwork.

  The ring was ornate and delicate, just like the princess herself. Derek gazed into the jewel’s depths, its surface refracting his face on the shiny surface. Mesmerized, memories of the princess came flooding into his mind of the last day he saw her.

  “Derek…” Emerald’s voice reverberated from within. He recalled her praying in the palace chapel, surrounded by countless glimmering candles. Her bright-green eyes were smiling, inviting him to come sit with her. He’d wanted to tell her right then…

  He should have told her. It was his chance. The perfect opportunity. All those years prior, he had been working up to that moment.

  But he never did. And that was the last he saw of her. Seven years ago. Their evening had been interrupted, and he was forced to leave Arcadia in haste with his father.

  Derek took one last look at the jewel as he caressed the deep-green stone with his thumb, pushing back his memories. Snapping the box shut, he turned away to get ready for the evening.

  CHAPTER TWO

  GREEN

  Life comes in all forms, and in it the lifestream flows. Deep within the depths of its green tide lies healing, restoration, rebirth, and death. For even death can give birth to new life.

  —excerpt from “Chapter of the Green,” The Spectrum

  Recorded by Gaius Secundius, 2041 B.E.

  Princess Emerald quickly put down her paintbrush, interrupted by the noise coming from outside her balcony. Paint splattered on her forearm as the paintbrush rolled off her art table.

  Was it evening already?

  Rushing out to her balcony, Emerald watched excitedly as many private air transports began to dock at the palace receiving platform, one by one. Below, she saw the outlines of the party attendees as they emerged from their transports. Lords and ladies had traveled from all over to attend tonight’s feast. Emerald always loved these occasions, and she looked forward to each time her father declared such an event, as the palace hardly ever hosted such festivities.

  Taking in a deep breath of the cool air, Emerald smiled, daydreaming at the thought of mingling at the party while dancing through the night and into the early hours of the morning. The wind tickled her neck while her long, wavy emerald-green hair softly flowed in the gentle breeze. She lazily rested her chin in her hands, smudging a fresh blob of paint on her dainty face. Realizing what she had done, she quickly released her pose, not wanting to get any more defiled than she already had.

  From her tower, her gaze wandered from the palace platform to the city itself, teeming with life as the sun set far off in the horizon, giving the ocean nearby a deep glimmer. The citizens looked like little ants, scurrying from one building to another through the city skyways, bustling with energy. Each platform and balcony was lit up in different bright color combinations while advertisements of the city gleamed with luster. Through a parting of the cloudy atmosphere, Emerald caught a glimpse of the mid-levels. Sounds of the city could be heard, even from her balcony far above. Sounds of laughter, music, air transports, and even the occasional authorities’ sirens.

  What would it be like to go down there? Emerald wondered, entranced by the colors. She would give anything to have a moment away from the palace, joining in with all the citizens of Arcadia with their nightly activities. Everyone appeared so free, and she was so not. But it was no use lingering on the thought; her father would never allow such a thing.

  Glancing at the city below one last time, Princess Emerald turned away from her balcony, retreating into her chambers.

  Near the glass patio door sat her small art table with tubes of acrylic paints. Some tubes were neatly put away in color order while others were left out from her current use. The easel held her current painting, still unfinished. Emerald plopped back down in front of the orange painting, determined to finish the picture. Something about it didn’t sit right with Emerald, but she couldn’t figure out what it was exactly.

  What is wrong with you? Emerald silently asked the painting, studying it intently. She picked up her paintbrush, then dabbed at the orange paint, layering its pigment onto the canvas.

  All day Emerald had been painting a woman she’d found in one of her new magazines. The woman was fierce, with wild hair, dressed in fashions that Emerald had not seen before. The magazine picture intrigued Emerald, which made her determined to paint the woman. Everyone had a color about them, which reflected the soul of the person. By painting these pictures, Emerald explored people’s personalities without meeting or having a single conversation with the person. It was like reading a book about that individual, a book that they didn’t know had been written. Emerald wasn’t sure if it was a natural talent or the power from her gift that enabled her to somehow figure out a person’s color.

  Gifted. That’s what the people born of magic were called. That’s what she was. Born with the power of green magic, the gift of life. Only a handful of people knew of her power: her father, her dead mother, the Inner Council, and a few servants in the palace. No one had ever seen a gifted before, not in at least a thousand years, according to ancient writings. The gifted of centuries past had all died out, and belief in the God of Light and his gifted was now no more than a myth.

  People were not ready to believe in magic, she recalled her father saying. In these modern times, who would believe in such power of the God of Light? Religion was for the ancients, surely not for the present time. No, mankind put their faith in the power of science and what was tangible, not in myths or magic, and certainly not in the holy book, The Spectrum.

  And if the world were to discover her true power, there would be countless attempts from the other kingdoms to capture her for the use of her magic. And for that reason alone, her father had ordered Emerald to remain in the palace, heavily guarded from the world outside, only to meet other lords, ladies, and royals
that visited. Emerald could count on her fingers how many times she had been outside the palace. Four. And during those four times, her father had a swarm of guards hounding her, and they never gave her any space.

  “Guess who’s here?” Emerald’s bedroom door swung open wildly, startling her from her painting. Glacia, Emerald’s first handmaiden, burst through the door with a bright smile. She hurried over to Emerald and gave her an ecstatic shake. “You’re still painting?” she asked, aghast.

  “Calm down, I’m almost done.” Emerald chuckled politely, waving her free hand in a dismissive gesture as she continued painting. “Who’s here?”

  “Prince Derek.” Glacia’s hazel eyes sparkled with intensity.

  “Derek?” Emerald answered slowly. She paused for a moment, meeting Glacia’s eyes nervously.

  “Yes, Prince Derek. You know, the most handsome man ever to walk this earth? That Prince Derek,” Glacia teased. “Now forget your picture and get ready! You have paint all over yourself!”

  “Glacia, I thought Derek was supposed to visit several months from now,” Emerald said, cleaning her paintbrush in a glass of water. The water swirled with orange pigment, releasing its color. Her stomach felt jumbled, knotting up as she watched the water twirl in the water jar.

  “Princess, no one knows why he decided to make an early arrival.” Glacia laughed. “Honestly, who cares? Now is your chance.”

  “Perhaps he is betrothed to another woman,” Emerald stated flatly.

  Glacia bent over to whisper in Emerald’s ear. “Actually, the word around the palace is that he is still single.” She nudged her, giving Emerald a warm, giddy smile, then flipped her soft brown hair back.

  “I think I feel sick,” Emerald muttered, slumping her face into her hands.

  “Oh, you’ll be fine.”

  Emerald felt suddenly nervous, and her hands started to shake. She couldn’t have said it better herself. Prince Derek was single-handedly the most handsome man Emerald had ever known. No, he was no man, more like a sculpted statue of a god, perfect in every way. Not only was he beyond perfection, he was well mannered, charming, good natured, and slightly humorous at times. Just thinking of Derek, Emerald felt her old feelings of attraction start to resurface.