by C. A. Sabol
“Some part of her will have to. But when she marries, the times of trial and war will be over. Peace will be restored, and you, along with the entire world, shall be cleansed. The sun will shine a great light once more.”
“What do you mean? The sun has always shone,” Dorian asked, apparently not able to comprehend what his advisor was saying.
“It has not always been so dull, you know,” Haiasi said, his voice soft and weak. “There was once a time, once long ago, when all dreams had been beautiful.”
“Haiasi?” Dorian took hold of the man’s hand, only to pull back at the coldness that was in it.
“I can see ... the light,” the prophet murmured quietly, and then he was gone.
Dorian felt a pain in his heart as he turned and walked out of the room. He hid his face from his advisors and servants. With the passing of his dear friend from life to death, from dark to light, Dorian felt the sting of angry tears well up behind his eyes. What would he do now, with his friend gone? He wondered, how could such a thing happen, that his advisor would die and leave him all alone in the world, right when Haiasi was needed the most? Was the Guardian of Crystallon really looking after the world of Sapphira? Dorian could not help feeling his doubts. Haiasi had been so sure, but now that he was gone, who was to put Dorian’s doubts and fears to rest?
Chapter 2
The Princess and the Protector
SHE WAS DREAMING.
There she was, looking high above the world. It was all cloudy from this view, but she could not bring herself to care. There was sunlight, there was warmth ... there was freedom. Absolute, and complete freedom; freedom from darkness, freedom from pain, freedom from the loneliness that kept itself hidden in the darkest corners of her mind—the whole world, at that moment, could both belong to her and have nothing to do with her. To take any part in it was her choice.
The light grew brighter, almost calling out to her. Her head rose to face it, to reflect the warm and welcoming glow. Then a voice below her called out. It was a familiar voice, one that she had known well. For the moment, she tried to ignore it, not wanting to divert her gaze from the light.
She could not look away; she knew this. But the voice from below grew louder and more persistent, and at last, she turned to face it. Instantly, the dream grew foggy, as the transition from night to day once again began to take place.
All she could feel in her heart as the sunlight awoke her that morning was the feeling of being in chains.
THE PRINCESS SELENE woke up in her lavish comforts, her soft, cloud-like bed, in her lovely, polished home, with the smile she’d kept on her face throughout the whole night slowly diminishing. She sighed.
“Why is it,” Selene murmured as she half-listened for the sound of her governess’s footsteps coming up the long hallway, “that all good dreams are too short?” She silently decided that it must have been so in order that the world would not simply sleep their lives away. Still, she was sorry to say good-bye to such a pleasant night. She might have been the heir apparent to the crown, but she could not stand to face the thought of getting through her life without the gift of her beautiful dreams.
Almost reluctantly, Selene got out of bed and began to get ready for her day.
“Your Highness,” a voice called from the door. “It is –“
“I know, I know,” Selene broke in. “Time to get up ... I’m coming, Aura.”
The woman named Aura appeared at the doorway and smiled pleasantly. “Good to see you up, Your Highness.” She was an older woman of the High Court, and also the elected governess to Selene. She had held the position for nearly the last fifteen years, since Selene’s third birthday. “May I come in to discuss our agenda today?”
“All right.” Selene had started to gather up her the necessities for her maid Chevée, who was in charge of dressing the Princess’s hair.
“Thank you, Your Highness,” Aura said graciously as she walked in, a small tilt of her head extended towards the Princess in a casual bow.
Selene sneaked a peek at her, silently wishing herself to be more like her Governess. Aura was tall, proud, and a well-known beauty in the Courts of Diamond Palace, despite her age of fifty. She still had perfect long hair framing her features, a curling shower of glossy burgundy. Her eyes were glass green, and her poise was perfect. There was not a hair on her head out of place or a wrinkle in her expensive, well-cut dress. After nearly fifteen years of having such a governess, Selene felt even less like a lady. And the feeling of being so awkward often intensified every time she watched Aura walk, sit, sip at her herbal water, eat, or basically do anything. Nearly everything that Aura did was perfectly genteel, tactful and serene. Selene felt some days, with her short hair, clumsy feet, and ever-present smile, she would be lucky if she survived Aura’s tutelage at all.
However, there was one thing about Aura that Selene did not admire. Selene knew her governess loved to gossip excessively about the High Court members, or anyone else of interest. And for all of Aura’s good manners, she disapproved of nearly everyone for one reason or another. The only person that Aura truly loved, as far as Selene could tell, was Aura herself. The governess carried herself with such pride, that even a display of modesty and humility was acted on with a glint of stubborn smugness.
“Well, Aura,” Selene spoke up as she sat down at her bureau, “Tell me, what does Dorian wish for me to learn today?”
Aura looked down her nose at the Princess. “Such impertinence,” she muttered, scowling. “You should not address His Majesty the King so informally, Your Highness. It is not proper.”
“Aura,” Selene cast a glance in her direction that plainly told the governess that she did not care and that she had heard this speech before. “You know that Dorian is my brother. I can call him whatever I want, so long as it is not treasonous.”
Aura was probably the closest thing that Selene had to a mother. Maybe that was the problem with her, Selene thought. She was like a mother, and did everything that a mother should for her ... everything except give her the true warmth of such a connection. Formality, Selene thought, should never come before family. Aura, on the other hand, practically denied that she even felt the tiniest drop of affection for Selene by her somewhat aloof manner.
“Really, Your Highness, His Majesty is to be revered, not ridiculed. And, for that matter, neither is your responsibility as Princess or his duty to be King.”
Selene looked away. “I know.” Her eyes almost seemed to lose their sparkle momentarily. Yes, it was her job to be Princess. Yes, she had to consider the choices and think of the repercussions of a bad decision, and yes, she had to believe every day that she was going to do the right thing for the people. She turned to look in the mirror and saw that Aura was looking at her with a peculiar face. That sent a jolt through Selene, telling her it was time to forget her thoughts and concentrate once more on the day ahead. After all, it was a very important day, she thought as she once again put on a small smile.
Aura took the hint and opened the leather-bound book she’d brought with her. As Selene’s handmaiden Chevée arrived and began to style the Princess’s hair into a curly setting, Aura began to announce the schedule.
“Let’s see ... Ah! For the seventeenth day of the twelfth moon, Your Highness is due for her daily lesson in the schoolroom until midday. Then, Your Highness is supposed to get a quick meal, and then off to Your Highness’ self-defense class, reminding Master Omni that Your Highness is to leave early due to the big Islander’s Reception tonight. And Princess—“ Aura’s eyes stared intently into Selene’s as she continued on—“You must remember that you are required to go to this one, as is it is now considered by His Majesty the King to be inexcusably mandatory.”
She could’ve said it in two breaths without all the formal titles, Selene thought as she sighed. “It has been three years since that happened. Are you and my brother never going to let it go?”
Aura’s hard gaze answered her question effectively. “Your pr
esence is required.”
Chevée put the finishing touches on Selene’s short hair and took a step back from the Princess. “There. Now you are ready to begin the day, Your Highness.”
Selene looked up at Chevée and grinned. “Not quite, Chevée. Thank you for doing my hair this morning. It looks quite lovely, I think. But there is one more thing I need before I can be completely prepared for this day.” She turned to face her governess, her best pleading face at the ready. “Aura, do I have time to go and get Etoileon?” she asked.
Aura tried to hide her smile at the eager expression on the princess’ face. She did not get very far. “Yes, you may go and pick him up from his training session, Your Highness. But please remember, your presence is required in the schoolroom with the other royal court children an hour and a half after breakfast.”
Selene flashed her brilliant smile. “How could I forget?” she asked just a little too sweetly for Aura’s comfort.
SHE WATCHED HIM AS he fought hard against another student in training as the last class finished up. They were using a number of weapons against each other today. Selene watched with a tingle of trepidation curling in her stomach as she saw the star-points, the many swords, the hyper blasters, the daggers, and the various other sinister looking devices hanging on the wall nearby.
Her worry began to disappear when she noticed the easy grace of the one she was watching, as he tangled with his friend with a single purpose on his mind—a determination to win. His feet were shuffling and quick, managing to steady the balance and keep his footing. He had sweat running down his forehead, and his shirt was sticking to his back. His name was Etoileon, and he was Selene’s protector. He had been her protector for over two years now, ever since he had finally passed all of the King’s tests for him.
He was rather tall, though short compared to his opponent. His short night-black hair flew out in all directions as he made counterattack after counterattack. No doubt, Selene thought with a tiny smile, his eyes were burning with a gray fury she knew all too well.
Ronal, his opponent, was a taller, more muscular looking young man with striking white-blond hair. Though he was strong, he had nothing against Etoileon when it came to speed or endurance. Their daggers whipped past each other, the star-points whizzed on by; the swords tangled, the blasters fired, but eventually, Ronal grew tired and slipped, thus leaving Etoileon to stand over him in victory a moment later.
A feeling of pride in her friend and protector’s accomplishment welled up inside of her. Selene smiled and unclenched her now-white hands, which she could not even remember balling up. As the princess, she had been trained in self-defense; but she knew that she could not hold a candle to those who had been instructed in the Fighter’s ways.
The life of being a Fighter was not easy, and Selene imagined it to be only harder while one lived in the Palace in Diamond City. There were over two hundred of them, all of them boys from the middle-class families that lived in the City. To be a Fighter meant to protect the royal household from any kind of danger. They were more like highly trained guards than special armed forces. Since Sapphira was rarely at war, the Fighters were kept mostly at the palace, though in times of war they would be spread out all over the globe. At the palace, they all had to wake up two hours before daybreak, getting dressed in their uniforms, often forsake breakfast, and exercise for hours. After that, the boys only had an hour to get washed, some food, and change into their Palace wear. Some of them would be on authorized duty after this training session. If they were not, the Fighters were required to help the maids, the stewards, the armory keepers, and all types of various other jobs that were strewn throughout the Palace walls. Often the Fighter squad got little or no quality time to themselves, although they did get to go into the city twice a month.
Etoileon had to have it the hardest among them, too. Nearly all the high-level students had applied for his position, to be her protector, and she was slightly worried that Dorian, who had put himself in charge of choosing, would overlook Etoileon in spite of her wishes. Selene was certain, even more so as she watched him now, that Dorian had made the right choice for her. Etoileon was well known for his skills on the Fighter’s squad.
She watched as he headed over to Ronal now, and reached down his hand to help his friend up. Selene couldn’t help but smile. Etoileon had grown so much in the short time she’d known him.
“ARE YOU OKAY? YOU WERE all out on that battle back there.” Etoileon had a shadow of a grin on his face that clearly told anyone looking on him that he had just won.
“I’m fine,” Ronal replied gruffly. “Nothing a nice City steak-o-filet can’t fix. You’re buying, by the way.”
“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” Etoileon replied, the intensity of his eyes disappearing as it was replaced with a laugh.
Ronal grinned, before his eyes caught sight of the figure at the top of the viewing glass on the next floor up. “The Princess is here,” he said. “Wow. She sure looks lovely today.”
Etoileon did not need to look up at Selene to know that she was beautiful today. Instead of looking in the direction of his friend’s gaze, he instead frowned at his friend. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.
Ronal nearly jumped at the icy tone. “What’s wrong with you, Etoileon? I mean, I know you’re her main protector, but you don’t have to get in my face because I think she’s pretty.”
Etoileon sometimes hated how his friend was right. He hated it even more that he had reacted in such a bad way. Now he was stuck listening to Ronal give him a lecture on how he took his job too seriously.
“Besides,” Ronal was saying, “If you fought off everyone who thought she was cute, you would have half of the world killed, the other half waging war against you, and not a man would be left when you finished with them.” He paused here for a moment and then added, “You’d have to kill yourself, too, ‘cause I know you think she’s pretty, too.”
Etoileon caught the sarcasm and let it go. It wasn’t his fault that he had reacted to Ronal’s statement. He couldn’t seem to help it, just like he couldn’t help denying it a moment later. “No, I don’t! Just drop it, okay Ronal? I thought you liked that city girl, that’s all.”
His friend shrugged, unconcerned. He’d made his point. “Speaking of which, Cyerra might be down there, and you know I love seeing her. Want to get that settled steak-o-filet this afternoon? I was thinking I’d go on a trip to the City anyway. The New moon’s coming up soon and I want to use up this month’s city trips before I lose them.”
“Cyerra? Is she the one you ‘can’t stop thinking about’?” Etoileon inquired as they began to clean up the weapons that they had flung all over the room. The battle course was really too into using weapons, Etoileon thought, as he picked up four of the used battle blasters they’d throw away after using up all their ammunition. There was enough ammo strung around the room to fight off a small war effectively. And the Fighters in training had used nearly all of it. It was really a waste sometimes.
The grin on Ronal’s face was all Etoileon needed to see to have his question answered. “The one and same,” Ronal declared, dramatically sliding his sword once more into its scabbard. “She’s trying to get a job here as a maid, you know. She’s afraid with her boarding space being sold to another bar owner that she’ll get kicked out. And if I help her to get her here, it’ll be sweet paradise for me for a good while.”
“So you’ve told her how you feel about her?”
Ronal nearly jumped a foot high. “Of course I have,” he said. “In fact, I have several times. Let me tell you something, my friend, the minute you start telling a girl that you love her, if you miss even a day or two of telling her that, she’ll start getting weird on you, and she’ll cry and whine and sigh a lot. So if you ever find a girl in the city that you like, make sure she’s the one before you say anything.”
“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind,” Etoileon smiled. He broke off in a moment of silence as he thought about how t
o phrase his next sentence. “Have you ever liked a girl and couldn’t bring yourself to tell her how you felt?”
“Why? Having some problems with the ladies?” Ronal, having just been badly beaten by Etoileon, was rapidly gaining back his cheerfulness to hear of his friend’s bad luck.
“No, there’s no problem. I was just wondering.” But in his voice, there was casualness all too smooth to have made his statement completely true.
“Right ... sure ... listen, pal, if you want my advice, the minute you find the cutest chick who’ll say yes to you, go with it. When you’re a little more advanced, things get a little easier when it comes to picking up the women. In fact, I’ll see if Cyerra has a friend, how about that?”
“No, thanks,” Etoileon just nodded and kept his head down so his friend wouldn’t see him laughing. Ronal had always thought of himself as such a lady hunter, but it looked more like Ronal was a lady fisher. Always getting nothing from his bait, but the stories grew more and more unbelievable each time he talked about it.
Before Ronal left for his Reading Class, he turned back to Etoileon. “If you are going to tell a girl you like her, then get her flowers. They all go crazy over flowers.”
“Hmmm ... ” Etoileon pondered the thought. It was a sensible idea; it was actually one of Ronal’s few good ones. “Maybe I will.”
He hurried to change and clean up, and when he was done, he walked out of the room and breathed in deeply. The air outside the dojo area was colder, and more refreshing.
“Etoileon!”
He smiled as he heard the voice call out. He did not have to turn around to see that Selene had come to pick him up once again. While it was sweet of her to think of him, Etoileon sincerely hoped that she didn’t do it out of pity.
He turned on his heel and found himself face to face with the most charming face he’d ever seen. “Selene.”