by HR Moore
CHAPTER 3
Alexander got up and made his excuses. There was only so much of Gwyn and Marcus proclaiming they were masters of the universe that he could take. He had never really liked spending time with them, but since Philip had died, he found them tedious at best. He decided to go back to the Temples and see how Christiana was doing; she was always a sound source of advice, and maybe she could help him understand why the Body girl was having such an effect on him. He, unlike her, was able to control his energy, so no-one would know, but he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Maybe it’s just her energy, he thought, as he descended through the centre of the Temple of the Spirit into the lower chambers; it’s totally raw and unrefined, she has no idea how powerful she could be. But he knew that wasn’t all it was, images of her pale lips, hypnotic smoky eyes, slender hands, delicate creamy skin, dark shiny hair, the dip between her collarbone and neck, the curve of her toned arms, for some reason kept invading his every thought. For some inexplicable reason, his mind kept drawing him back to her.
Alexander descended into the plush private chamber that now belonged to him underneath the Spirit Temple. His spacious accommodation consisted of a study, a bedroom, a bathroom, a sitting room and a small kitchenette. His grandfather, Philip, had had the whole place overhauled when he had ascended to rule, but Alexander hadn’t even thought about changing it when it had been passed to him; he didn’t see the need. It functioned perfectly well, and Philip had made it quite comfortable. Alexander pushed a small square at the side of the worn wooden panelling covering the wall at the back of his study, the only wall not covered in bookcases laden with pile after pile of Philip’s dusty manuscripts, and a secret door sprang open. He ducked through the opening into the gloomy corridor behind, lit only by the occasional lantern, and began to follow it towards the chambers underneath the Temple of the Body.
Alexander’s mind wandered as he walked. He barely noticed the twists and turns he had to navigate, his feet seeming to follow their own path, rousing from his thoughts only as he approached Christiana’s chambers and picked up the sound of muffled voices. The only people allowed down here were the Descendants, a small handful of trusted and very well paid servants, and occasionally a Councillor, accompanied by a Descendant. Alexander immediately recognised Austin’s harsh tones and Christiana’s weak replies, felt the unsettled energy from both of them and knew something was wrong. Deciding it best to observe for a bit before wading in, he snuck forward as far as he dared without risking discovery, hid behind an ornate grey granite pillar, from where he could see what was going on, and listened.
‘I’ve got to find her. I have to tell her Austin. I know she’s here. What we did…’
‘You’re going to tell her?’ Austin spat. ‘I thought you just wanted to find her and see her. What good can telling her possibly do now?’
‘The energy. Once I’m gone, who knows what will happen. Only the Gods should have the power that we took. I’ll always regret it.’
Alexander felt what was going to happen next. Austin’s malicious, negative, energy rose to unprecedented levels. Christiana felt it too; she had surprising Spirit skills for a Body. ‘Austin, she will find out. The prophecy will one day be fulfilled. The true bloodline will be restored.’
‘No, she won’t,’ Austin sneered, unpleasantly, brushing Christiana’s words aside. ‘We’re the only two left that know the truth now Philip’s gone. And soon it will just be me,’ his voice a terrifying mix of wistful longing and startling cruelty. Austin reached down and put his hand on the pillow next to Christiana’s head, his brutal intention plain. Christiana didn’t fight, she had accepted what was to come, her face relaxed, her energy calm, unconcerned with the predicament she now found herself in.
‘The true bloodline will be found Austin,’ Christiana repeated, her voice soft but insistent, like this was so obvious an observation that anyone would be a fool not to see it. ‘This is bigger than you. It’s in the hands of the Gods,’ she said, pausing and looked openly up at Austin, her eyes still sparkling, full of life, a smile playing around her old lips, lined with age. ‘The Gods who you are about to help me join.’ Austin’s eyes flew open. He knew it. He had always suspected that she was a reader. It explained a lot. Austin grabbed the pillow and furiously covered Christiana’s face, using all his weight to hold it resolutely in place. Christiana didn’t struggle. She lay totally still until Alexander could feel her energy no longer. He could have intervened. Should he have intervened? But being a reader, she would have known he was there, and she hadn’t appealed to him. He was more likely to be able to help fulfil her final wishes if he wasn’t at war with Austin, but now he knew exactly what Austin was capable of and it made him sick. He turned and left, quickly navigating back through the black corridors. He rushed into his chamber, swinging the panel swiftly and firmly closed behind him before retreating up into the Temple and out into the night. He vomited violently as he reached the cool night air, still not quite able to believe the act he had just witnessed. He left the Temples and somehow stumbled to the river before letting his legs give way, sinking gracelessly to the hard ground of the river bank. He sat all night, not feeling the cold or the damp that penetrated his clothes, feeling nothing, feeling numb, barely even hearing the gurgling of the river passing by. Eventually, as the sun started to rise, a greyish light beginning to illuminate the water, tears trickled their way down his cheeks as he held his head in his hands, staring into nothing, a deep sense of loss beginning to grow inside him.
Hours later, when the sun was fully in the sky, but blocked out by determined black clouds, casting a gloomy light over Empire, he got up and returned to his chamber, full of questions. What had Christiana meant about taking the power of the Gods into their own hands and about the bloodline and the prophecy? Did Christiana have a female heir? Was that who Christiana had wanted to find? What had they done and why? Was Christiana the rightful heir? Philip knew something and had never told him? Had Philip been involved in whatever this was? There were too many questions to answer all at once, but Alexander knew the place to look was in the Archives, which, luckily, were kept in Empire. An examination of the birth and death records was the best place to start.