Nightfall: Book Two of the Chronicles of Arden

by Shiriluna Nott

  He stopped beside a pillar, leaning against the cold marble for support. Slamming his eyes closed, Joel bade himself to relax. He needed to calm down. He needed to think clearly. He needed to find Hasain.

  Immediately following the gladiator tournament, Joel had returned to the Imperial palace in search of his cousin. Hasain had left the match so abruptly and in such distress that Joel was worried. He had to find Hasain, talk to him, and ensure he was all right—only the young Radek lord was nowhere to be found. He hadn’t been in his bedchamber within the suite nor was he sitting in the private garden outside. Joel had searched the library next, but Hasain wasn’t there either, leaving Joel to ramble aimlessly through the palace halls.

  What am I doing? Why am I even here? Tears welled beneath his closed eyelids. I should be in Arden, with my family, with Gib. Not thousands of leagues away, in this vile empire where men are slaughtered like animals—

  “Lord Joel Adelwijn?”

  Joel’s eyes flew open, the soft tenor voice catching him off guard. Blinking away blurry tears, he spun around so swiftly the newcomer took one uncertain step back.

  Kirk Bhadrayu’s fair face pinched with concern. “I–I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to impose. I was just passing through and saw you standing there—and thought I’d make myself known.” His shameful green eyes shifted downward.

  Joel cleared his throat, hoping the anguish in his soul wouldn’t be so apparent when he spoke. “No. It’s all right. You’re not imposing.”

  Kirk lowered his voice a pitch further, barely more than a whisper. “Are you okay?”

  For a moment, Joel couldn’t bring himself to utter a response. Even the stiff nod he gave was difficult. “I’m searching for one of my comrades—Lord Hasain. I lost track of him when I left the amphitheater earlier.”

  Kirk’s demeanor grew darker yet. Letting out a sigh through tightly pursed lips, the mage trainee replied in a solemn tone, “You attended the arena match?”

  Joel grimaced. “I’m afraid it wasn’t by choice.” He hesitated, glancing around to ensure they were alone. “Emperor Lichas insisted we go. I would have preferred to sit in the garden instead.” Should I have said that?

  Kirk nodded, a silent show of his understanding. “I’m sorry you had to see it.”

  “Were you there today?”

  “No. Thankfully my master doesn’t require we partake—though some of his other trainees opt to go.” A fleeting smile passed across Kirk’s lips. “Like you, I prefer the serenity of the gardens over the violence of the arena. Some would call me a coward for admitting such a thing—”

  “I wouldn’t.”

  They locked eyes, and Joel felt a strange sense of comradery toward the young mage trainee. Perhaps if fate had chosen differently and they’d grown up sharing the same country, he and Kirk could have been friends. Perhaps they still could be—

  No, Joel reprimanded himself for entertaining such dangerous thoughts. Kirk is young, but he’s still an Imperial. No matter how honest or forthcoming he seems, I can’t fully trust him. Ever. And surely we cannot be friends. When I leave Teivel, it’s almost a certainty I’ll never see him again.

  A rosy colored flush settled on Kirk’s high cheekbones. “I’m afraid I haven’t seen Lord Hasain today. Perhaps he ventured into the royal courtyard. I often find it easy to clear my mind there. It’s worth a look if you haven’t yet searched there.” Kirk scraped one of his sandals across the tiled floor.

  “Perhaps.” I guess searching there is better than standing around looking like a lost soul. Joel’s head spun as he tried to recall how to get to the royal gardens. “I’m afraid I don’t know the way. Might you point me in the correct direction?”

  Kirk smiled. “I can show you there myself if you’d like.”

  Joel hesitated, knowing he walked a fine line. The others would see this type of interaction as troubling or as fraternizing with the enemy. But Kirk wasn’t like the other Imperials! He was kind while they were cruel, modest despite the pomposity surrounding him, and genuine, truly sincere.

  I do trust his word. Father and Hasain can call me foolish all they want, but I know Kirk isn’t being false. Not after the conversation I overheard in the garden. Not after I witnessed the way those other boys treated him. He’s an outcast, the same as I used to be. And I really could use someone to talk to.

  Joel allowed himself to smile back as the last bit of doubt was cast from his mind. “I’d like that very much. Pleasant companionship after such brutality would be most appreciated.”

  Kirk bowed. “Allow me to lead the way, Lord Adelwijn.”

  “Joel. Just Joel, if you would.”

  A shy laugh filled the hall, and Kirk’s blush deepened as he led the way toward the courtyard. “Forgive me, Lord—Joel. I’m not used to such requests. Master Titus is very strict. If he caught me talking in such a way, I’m certain he’d punish me.”

  Joel frowned. “That seems a bit extreme.”

  “I’ve been reprimanded for lesser crimes. It’s just the way things are here. The Imperial highborns demand the utmost respect from their servants.”

  The scent of saffron and wild flowers hung in the air as they left the palace and stepped onto the cobblestone path outside. The late afternoon sun lay low in the sky, casting shadows across the grass. The rays of light bathed Joel’s skin in drowsy warmth, and despite the horrors he’d witnessed earlier, he found his tense shoulders and queasy stomach beginning to relax.

  “But you aren’t a servant,” he pointed out as they walked. “You’re a trainee. Soon you will be a mage—practically royalty, judging by the way the Northern Empire holds their mages in such high regard. Why does the Archmage treat you so poorly? Why do your fellow trainees torment you if you’re all destined to be mages anyway? If you’re all equals?”

  “Equal?” Sadness filmed Kirk’s eyes as he stared at the flowering vines creeping up the palace walls. “I’ll never be their equal. Not really anyway.”

  Joel knew he shouldn’t press the matter but couldn’t help himself. “Why not?”

  Kirk wrapped his arms around his shoulders, as though his tunic suddenly wasn’t enough to keep his fair skin warm. “Because of my past. Archmage Titus never truly wanted to take me as an underling. The only reason he did is because I’m one of the most gifted mage trainees my age. But that doesn’t mean he has to like me. I’m lowborn, you see. When my mother grew ill five years ago, she was unable to work anymore, and we found ourselves tossed into the streets. Mother didn’t last long there. I was ten when she made the journey across the veil. My sister had barely seen her ninth Naming Day.”

  Joel winced, unsure of what to say. “I’m—I’m sorry.”

  “Kenisha and I were taken in by a local orphanage for the next two years. It was a rough life. Too many children living together and not nearly enough food to go around, but at least we had a roof above our heads. If we’d still been on the streets during the brutal winter, I have no doubt we would have perished.”

  As the young trainee told his story, Joel couldn’t help but think of Gib. How many times growing up had Gib and his siblings gone to bed at night with empty, aching stomachs? How many times had they cried themselves to sleep because their parents weren’t there to tuck them in? He stole a glance at Kirk as they walked. People like Gib, like his brothers and sister, like Kirk—they are stronger than any highborn I’ve ever known. To be thrown into such dire circumstances and somehow climb their way out—they’re heroes and they don’t even know it.

  “If I ever have the means,” Kirk continued. “I hope to one day return to the orphanage and dispense charity of my own. If it hadn’t been for the kind souls who worked tirelessly to keep the place afloat, my sister and I wouldn’t have survived. I only wish more people cared about the welfare of the homeless children in this world.”

  Joel nodded, his heart touched by the trainee’s words. “I think people would rather close their eyes and pretend such problems don’t exist. I was one of th
ose people until recent years. I was born into wealth. I grew up with private tutors, luxurious clothing, and I don’t ever recall a time I went to bed hungry. I looked upon the poor in the streets—the ones without homes, dressed in rags—and yet I didn’t truly see them. Not really. I was living a life so far removed from them that it never even dawned on me to think about what it must have been like to be in their position.”

  “You seem to be empathetic toward their plight now. What made you open your eyes?”

  Joel blinked. Gib. From the moment he and Joel had been placed together as roommates, Gib had been opening Joel’s eyes. He was taught that riches couldn’t buy integrity, that strength of heart was a far greater weapon than any sword, and compassion could be shared, even by those who’d never received any themselves. Gib taught me how to love myself and how to love others. He, the poor farm boy with nothing left to lose, saved me. And then I cast him aside like he meant nothing to me. I chose to come to this horrible place instead of standing by the person who loved me most.

  He swallowed down the agony building in his throat. Kirk was still awaiting an answer. “I befriended someone who’d spent his entire life poor. He told me stories, similar to yours, about worrying from day to day if there would be food on the table for his brothers and whether or not the harvest crop would be plentiful enough to ensure they survived another winter. I guess I began to see things differently after hearing his tales. Suddenly, my own problems seemed petty and insignificant.”

  Kirk’s eyes were thoughtful when he replied. “I’ve lived among the highborns long enough to know that they too have plights. Perhaps of a different sort, but plights the same. Everyone—highborn or low—has secret demons they need to work around.”

  Joel chuckled lightly. “That we do.” They walked along the tiled path for several paces before Joel pressed Kirk to tell more of his story. “So, how did you end up at the palace? How did the Imperial mages find you beyond the dome?”

  “It’s custom to send scouts into even the poorest districts of the city. Every year, just after Harvest, scores of Imperial mages peruse the streets, seeking children with the ability to yield magic. It’s a reaping of sorts. Those with promise are whisked away to the palace.”

  “What if they choose not to go?”

  Kirk turned a somber eye onto Joel. “They aren’t given a choice. Though quite honestly, any child born into poverty would be crazy not to accept a life inside the magic dome. Their chances of survival are dramatically better without the need to worry about cold or hunger.”

  “But what about the families they have to leave behind? Are they ever allowed to visit their kin?”

  “I’m afraid not. Once they become apprentice mages and swear their oaths, the Imperial mages become their only brethren.”

  Joel gave him a sideways glance. “But you still have your sister.”

  The sun caught Kirk’s hair, casting warm light over the grains of gold among the darker brown hues. “When the mages came to take me away, I was terrified to leave Kenisha. As it was, I was nearly too old to be living at the orphanage, and I knew her time there was limited, too. I couldn’t imagine her being thrown back into the streets. So I begged—quite unabashedly. I told the mages she could do any job asked of her, if only they allowed her to come to the palace. I threatened not to comply if they didn’t bring her. I said everything I could think of, and in the end, Kenisha was able to go. I later found out there was a shortage of servants. I doubt they’d have let her come otherwise.”

  “Well, that’s fortunate.”

  Kirk frowned. “Sometimes I wonder. Sometimes I think maybe she was better off outside the dome.” They walked in silence the rest of the way.

  Joel was just as impressed by the royal courtyard as he’d been the first time Adrian Titus had led the envoys through it. Joel’s attempts to hold back his awe failed, and he was certain he must have looked a fool as he stood with an open mouth and wide eyes, staring at the immaculately trimmed shrubs and white marbled statues.

  Kirk smiled. “Have you seen the koi pond up close?”

  Joel could only shake his head, and with light laughter following in his footsteps, Kirk led him closer to the pool. Joel gazed down into the placid water, staring at the giant fish swaying beneath the surface.

  “Did you know they can live to be over one hundred years old?” Kirk asked, nodding toward the water. “I read it in a book.”

  “That’s incredible,” Joel murmured. His eyes skimmed the garden, passing over the various flowers of every color and shape. “All of this is incredible, really. The beauty of this place is undeniable.”

  “Yes. Shame that it’s all a façade.” Kirk shook his head in a slow, deliberate manner. “A veil of exquisiteness to hide the corruption beneath.”

  A weak smile crossed Joel’s lips. “Rest assured Teivel isn’t the only place in the world to know corruption. It can be found anywhere. But there is also good to be found. Honest, caring people do exist.”

  His mind wandered to thoughts of the kind people in his life. Where would he have been now without the support of his loving parents? Without the guidance of his mentors, Dean Marc and Cenric? Without Gib’s unfaltering love? So many people had helped shape his life. They’d been there, lifting him up during his hardships, never allowing him to fall. In that moment, Joel realized just how fortunate he truly was. Without them, I’d be lost.

  “I suppose I won’t ever know,” Kirk replied. “My skills are far too valuable to the Empire. Even after my apprenticeship is complete, they’ll make sure I’m stationed right here, inside the ‘safety’ of the palace for the rest of my life.”

  “I’m sorry.” Joel didn’t know what else to say. Guilt gnawing at his stomach, he turned his attention to the flowerbeds that lined the perimeter of the courtyard. Flora of all shapes and sizes blanketed the ground, their colors so vibrant and varied they reminded Joel of a rainbow. Their sweet, luscious scent infiltrated his nostrils as he stepped closer to get a better look. “I’ve never seen so many different flowers in one place before.”

  Kirk came over to stand nearby. “Careful of the purple ones.” He pointed toward a patch of effervescent violet blossoms, hanging in bunches from long stems.

  “Why?” Joel asked, squinting as he focused all his attention onto the flowers. “What are they?”

  “Wolfsbane,” replied Kirk in a grave tone. “Its petals are highly toxic. If ingested, without immediate care from a healer, it can easily be fatal.”

  Joel blinked and unwittingly took a step back. “Then why in the name of The Two is it allowed to grow in a royal courtyard?”

  “My master says Emperor Sarpedon keeps it as a reminder to his foes how easily they could meet their doom, if they ever were to cross him. Wolfsbane has been grown and harvested in this very garden for centuries. The Northern Empire cultivates it for—less than desirable purposes. Assassination attempts, mainly. Some people don’t wish to get blood on their hands.” Kirk’s smile was frigid. “There’s a popular Imperial saying about ‘taking a walk through the garden with your enemy.’ As I’m sure you can guess, they’re not taking a stroll with plans to make amends.”

  Joel played with the sleeve of his mage robe. “Your country is filled with such wonderful people.”

  Kirk actually laughed, but the broken undertone in his voice couldn’t be ignored. “We’re not all so bloodthirsty, I swear to you. The people I grew up with—those at the orphanage—were some of the most kind and giving people in the world. However, within the palace walls, those with power are determined to keep it, while everyone else is just as determined to steal it away. Greed has turned honorable men into animals—entire families have been torn apart—simply because they want to advance their own name. They’ll do whatever it takes to gain power. The Sarpedon bloodline is the worst offender.”

  Joel glanced around the courtyard to ensure they were alone. “Kirk, why doesn’t the Emperor age?”

  The mage trainee stiffened his shou
lders, casting a wary look around the vicinity. “I don’t—we aren’t—” Kirk sucked in a tense breath of air, and his green eyes finally met Joel’s. “I’m sorry. It’s forbidden to talk about.”

  A spike of apprehension ghosted its way up Joel’s spine. What did the young trainee know that would cause such grim terror to manifest on his normally placid features? And why was the topic so taboo that Lichas Sarpedon had forbidden it from being discussed? What in the two worlds was he so adamant about hiding?

  Joel gave a stiff nod and didn’t interrogate further. “I wouldn’t want you to get into trouble at my expense. I’m sorry. I won’t press the matter.”

  Kirk let out the air he’d been holding. “Thank you. To be completely truthful, I don’t have an answer for you anyway. I’ve heard rumors, of course, but to my knowledge, they are only that—rumors, gossip, tales. My master has mentioned in passing that Emperor Sarpedon is—blessed.”

  “Blessed?”

  Kirk’s voice was but a wisp of air on the breeze. “By the Blessed Son of Light, the Giver of All Power.”

  “Well, that seems a bit far-fetched,” Joel admitted. “I’ve heard of a deity blessing a bountiful crop or mild winter before—but never has there been proof of one extending a human’s life.” He stroked his chin. I need to mention all this to NezReth and Father. Surely it’s a tall tale, but there could be some ounce of truth within the story. “What about Prince Alerio? He’s of age to take the throne. If the Emperor never gets any older—”

  “Why do you think the prince is trying so hard to marry your princess?” Kirk countered in a flat tone. “He wants a way out of Teivel. He knows he’ll never get the crown so long as his sire lives.”

  “I’m shocked he hasn’t tried to take it forcefully, given what you said about the power hungry highborns in this city.”

  Kirk’s eyes moved around the courtyard, never resting on one particular place. “He’s not stupid. He watched two older brothers attempt to do just that, and now they’re dead. The Emperor tried his own sons and found them guilty of attempted murder. Ambition led them both to an early grave.”