by Owen Crane
Ariella lay on her bed, the covers tucked up around her chin. She looked so
young.
Can she really be fifteen already?
He closed the door and turned his back, returning to his motionless sentry
duty. He stood waiting for the first light of dawn to break across the palace
garden and shine through the corridor window.
Chapter 2
The Lightharbour Palace Library was the envy of the world. For centuries it
had drawn scholars, philosophers, dreamers, treasure hunters and prophets.
They came for the riches contained in the thousands of bound volumes and
rolled scrolls. Hung on the walls were the first maps of Dawnhaven, drawn
before the breaking, before the five kingdoms were formed.
Recorded here were the great scientific discoveries, their tomes neatly filed.
Experiments with flight, fire and steel. Every venture and misadventure
recorded for all time, given equal place where the myths and legends of
Dawnhaven. Tales of Darcian, first born of the unicorns, mighty and majestic.
Songs of Kalasa, the great mountain chieftain that first tamed the Griffins of
Khan.
The library was a place of wonder and beauty for Ariella. Countless hours
she had spent there whilst growing up in the palace. It was her escape, a
chamber of peace and solitude, but most of all, a place of dreams. Somewhere
she could live out the adventures she heard in the stories told by the sailors of
Lightharbour. She would unleash her imagination in the library, as she read the
ancient sagas. In her mind she would soar on the winds with the grace of the
eagles. She dived from the falls of Elderod and charged the rapids down the
Thunderrun. She scaled the vast ranges of the snow-capped Khan Mountains.
By night, she fought off vicious Ghost Raiders as they sought to plunder the
coasts of Dawnhaven. In the library, Ariella made her own choices and walked
the path of her own choosing. In the library, she was free.
It was in the library that she now waited. She was trying to be calm, acting
as if she wasn"t nervous, trying to act as fearless as the palace guards. She was
failing. She took a book down from the shelf. A random choice, she wasn"t even
conscious of which area of the library she was standing in. She took the book to
a nearby table and let the pages fall open.
The chapter title stood out in bold print: “The Effects of Dragon Fire on Stone
Walls”.
Ariella smiled to herself as she spoke out loud. “It"s a pity the dragons died
out. I"d much rather be facing a dragon today”
“So would we!”
Ariella jumped as the bookshelf next to her slid silently to the side. Behind it
was a sloping passageway and the grinning faces of her younger twin brothers,
Osias and Calixto.
She glared at the two boys. “Mother is going to lose it with you two if she
finds you skulking down the passageways again.”
“I think our wonderful mother has other people in her sights today,”
laughed Calixto.
“You"re hilarious.” Ariella was not in the mood for her brother"s particular
brand of humour.
“It"ll be okay Ari.” Osias chipped in, “I"m pretty sure that she"s not going to
lock you in the dungeon. Although I could"ve sworn I heard someone calling for
the Jailor.”
She threw the book she was reading across the room towards her brothers
but the bookcase was already sliding back in place. The heavy tome thudded to
the floor with a dull echo. The laughter from her brothers grew fainter as they
withdrew down the hidden passage.
The Palace of Lightharbour was riddled with these passages, some as old as
the Palace itself. Ariella had heard many tales of what the passages were built
and used for. The common stories were of escape tunnels if the Palace was
besieged. Some of the sailors would sing songs of midnight rendezvous,
unrequited love, tragedy and torment, all made possible by the tunnels.
Some of the darker tales were of secrets and spies. There was even talk of
assassinations. Long forgotten monarchs murdered in their beds by jealous
Lords, children, brothers and even wives.
Ariella shuddered. Tales of dark deeds always made her uncomfortable
when she was alone in the library. She had always felt it was a place of such
beauty and wonder that stories of evil didn"t belong inside its inspiring walls.
She smiled again at her own naivety as she let her gaze drift across the
vastness of the library. The vaulted ceiling was a spectacular criss-cross of
frescoes painted by the finest artists in Dawnhaven. They told the stories of the
island’s history, its legends, the heroic victories and bitter failings. Above her
was a particularly vivid image of a blood red dragon spewing flames against a
castle wall. She remembered the book that she had hurled at her brothers,
retrieved it and bought it back to the table.
It was bound in soft leather, dyed the same blood red as the dragon in the
ceiling"s fresco. In elaborate gold script, it"s title read, “Dragon Breath: A
comprehensive study of the effect of dragon breath by Theodore Vangaland”.
Sounds like the type of book the twins would’ve loved to write. Those two would
quite happily stroll up to a dragon and ask him to breathe on various objects while they recorded it. ‘Sir Dragon, would you be so kind as to breathe fiery death on this haystack so I can observe the results?’ Yes, that sounds exactly like my brothers.
The twins, Osias and Calixto, thunder and lightning, chaos given human
form, twice. As much as she hated to admit it, she knew she would miss them.
They brought light and colour, mixed with a good dose of disaster, wherever
they went. There had been many times over the last eight years when Ariella
had needed light and colour in her life.
She slipped her hands into the pockets of her trousers and drew her
shoulders in close as the pain of the memories washed over her again. It was not
the sharp pain of years ago, but a dull ache. Hakeem had told her that that pain
too would pass, in time. As she thought of Hakeem, the fingers in each of her
pockets closed around the two spheres. Each was no bigger than a glass marble
that the children played with in the streets of Lightharbour.
Echo Orbs.
A gift from Hakeem, eight years ago. He gave them to her here, in the
library. He knew she would be there after she had heard the news. The news
that changed Ariella forever. The news that her father was dead. She didn"t
believe it as first. How could he be dead? He was so strong, so brave, so
adventurous. He was the ruler of Lightharbour, wise and fierce. How could he
be gone?
Hakeem had found her in the far corner of the library, behind an old
tapestry, curled up on the floor. She had been there for hours, weeping. Ariella
remembered Hakeem"s strength as he lifted her and carried her to one of the
library"s soft, cushioned benches. She remembered not letting go of his neck as
she buried her head in the silk of his robes.
She could scarcely believe that was eight years ago. She spun the orbs
through her fingers, still deep in her pockets. So much has changed and yet, so
little.
A sharp, tap, tap broke Ariella’s thoughts. The noise came from one of the
high windows in the library wall.
Tap, tap, tap.
Ariella narrowed her gaze on the window trying to find the source of the
noise. At first glance it appeared the window contained nothing but the clear
blue of the mid summer sky. Then there was a slight ripple of movement.
Tap, tap, tap.
The head of a tiny gargoyle peered over the edge of the window frame and
locked eyes with Ariella. He was about the size of a pigeon, formed from the
white stone that made up the majority of the buildings in Lightharbour. His face
was carved into a hideous grin, with small, fox like ears sticking upright from his
bald head. The gargoyle leaned his head against the glass staring its stony eyes
at Ariella. He lifted up his right hand and in it he held a small bag made of rich
blue velvet.
“Hakeem!” Cried Ariella, recognising the tiny velvet bag.
She rushed over to the lower window beneath the window the gargoyle was
perched on, threw it open and leaned out. The tiny gargoyle scampered down
the sheer wall of the library like a gecko, his fingers holding tight to the stone
wall. He dropped onto the windowsill beside her and held out the velvet bag.
Ariella took it and untied the fine gold lace that had secured the top. As soon as
the bag was loose the rich aromas spilled out, and Ariella took a long, deep
breath.
“Chocolate” she whispered.
She leaned forward and gave the tiny gargoyle a kiss on his cold white head.
“Go and pass that on to Hakeem for me.”
The Gargoyle tilted his head to the side, nodded, then turned on his forked
tail and was gone, skipping, jumping and climbing over the rooftops. Ariella
lost sight of him somewhere between the dome of the spice market and the spires
of Archibald"s Emporium of Exotic Animals.
It always amazed her how Hakeem could get the gargoyles to run errands
for him. She didn’t know anyone else in Lightharbour that could get the
gargoyles to do that. She lifted out a piece of the chocolate. It was dark and
silky, with small chunks of almonds buried throughout. Even on a day like
today, the chocolate made her forget everything, just for a moment. She reached
in for a second piece but her fingers found a small roll of parchment bound with
red silk. Her nimble fingers quickly untied the silk and unrolled the scroll. In
the wonderful calligraphy with which Hakeem so fluently wrote, was a simple
message.
“Be gracious with her.”
Ariella"s head dropped. Today"s events came flooding back into her mind
and she sighed. This was not going to be an easy few hours. She looked out of
the window over the great city state of Lightharbour. The white stone of the
buildings shone in the bright sunlight.
“How long will it be until I"m back here?” She wondered.
On the far side of the Library she heard the great doors swing open and the
soft, steady footsteps of someone walking with purpose.
“Okay, I guess I should get this over with,” she said to herself.
Ariella took one last glance over the city, the place of her birth and her home.
She turned and walked to meet the footsteps.
The two ladies stood and faced each other in the silence of the library.
Ariella was tall for her age, slender but strong. Her rich, chocolate brown hair
fell down past her shoulders. She tried to make herself taller than she was, her
shoulders pushed back and her chin lifted up.
The silence continued. The seconds turned to minutes as the two held each
other"s gaze. Ariella was willing her emerald green eyes not to blink first.
Normally, in situations such as this, she would come out the victor. She had a
stubborn, competitive streak that had seldom seen her buckle. Most people
would blink first and avert their eyes.
Most people, but not the lady before her. Queen Susanna, Lady of
Lightharbour, House of the Eagle. She looked away from no one. Ariella
dropped her eyes and shifted her feet. In a moment she had gone from a proud,
strong, stubborn, young woman, to a child, insecure and nervous. There was no
one on the whole of Dawnhaven, no distant foreigner on any ship that had sailed
into harbour, no Knight in the palace guard, that could make her feel that way.
No one, except her mother.
“Ariella,” she began.
Ariella blinked. She recognised the tone her mother had used. It was soft
and calm. She had been in court and heard her mother use that tone. She
reserved it for, „special" circumstances. Once a visiting dignitary had, foolishly,
assumed he could take advantage of the Queen in a trade deal. Ariella had seen
her disarm and humiliate some of the wealthiest merchants in Lightharbour with
that voice. On one occasion she had to put the Captain of the Palace guard in his
place. He asserted that women should not be involved with matters of defence.
That was a mistake. There is now a new Captain of the guard.
Ariella half lifted her head and tried to look into her mother"s eyes. The
same emerald green that she had inherited, and her mother had inherited from
Ariella"s grandmother, Queen Lucia, the last queen of Dawnhaven. Her mother"s
face was calm, set, and unreadable.
“Well?” asked the Queen.
Numerous answers to that question came into Ariella"s mind. None of them
were helpful. Thankfully, she had learnt, the hard way, that sarcasm was not the
best way to respond to her mother. Unfortunately for Ariella, she had no idea
how to begin answering the question.
She started slowly, “I thought the announcement went rather well.”
“Really?” answered the Queen, her voice moving dangerously away from
soft to icy. “You think it went „rather well"?”
“Um, well, it was, nice, the banners looked nice and I thought, the-
“You thought?” The Queen interrupted, “please tell me, what exactly did
you think?”
What did you think I was trying to do?
But then as she started to answer she realised she had nothing to say that
would help her situation.
“Did you perhaps think that maybe it would have been considerate to
include me in your plans? Do you think that I may have a different perspective
that may have benefited you in this process? Do you think that maybe bringing
me in on your little secret before today might have been considered a good
idea?”
The Queen"s voice was starting to rise now. She was losing some of the
control of before in her anger. Ariella started to shrink back.
“How could you possibly have thought that this would go well?” The Queen
was shouting now. “You"ve made a fool of me, yourself, Lightharbour and the
Guardians.”
“The Guardians don"t think they"ve been made a fool of!” She shocked
herself at her emotion as she answered her mother. “They think it"s excellent,
they chose me, they want me!”
“Well they can"t have you!” The Queen took a step forward as she spoke, her
eyes flashing dangerously.
“Why not?” yelled Ariella. She took a step towards her mother, her jaw
tight. Her hands flew
out of her pockets, fists clenched. She had never spoken to
her like this before.
“You are the Princess of Lightharbour, heir to the throne, you cannot go
running off on adventures! Your city needs you here, you people need you
here!”
For a moment Ariella lost control. Even as the words left her lips she
regretted them.
“Grandmother would"ve let me go!”
The effect was instant. The Queen flinched like she had been struck. The
intensity of the pain in her eyes took Ariella"s breath away.
“I"m…I"m sorry, I"m sorry” she stammered.
For a moment the Queen stared at her eldest child, the pain of searing loss
still visible in those piercing green eyes.
“You know nothing. You have no comprehension of what your
Grandmother would want. You think of no one but yourself. You are a selfish
child. You are not leaving tomorrow. You are not joining the Guardians. You
duty is to the throne, to Lightharbour and to me.”
Her words hung in the chamber of the library and seemed to settle around
Ariella like dust. She spoke quietly. Softly. Afterwards she realised, for the first time in her life, she used the same tone as her mother.
“No.”
“No?”
“No. I am leaving tomorrow, I am joining the Guardians and there is
nothing you can do to stop me except lock me in the dungeons.”
At that, Ariella strode out of the room more confident and assured than ever.
The great doors of the library closed behind her, and she ran.
She ran as fast as she could. She flew down the corridors of the palace,
bursting through doors, past servants and Knights, many calling out
„congratulations your highness!” as she flew by. Up flights of stairs, she ran,
around corners, through doors. She didn"t stop until she was opposite a slim,
oak door. It led into a small, curved corridor on the far western tower, high up
in the palace. She glanced over her shoulder and listened, trying to steady her
heavy breathing from her sprint. There was silence. She pushed open the door
and looked inside. As usual, the corridor was empty. With a final glance around
her, she stepped through the oak door and closed it silently behind her.
The light from the windows was soft and warm. Specks of dust fell through
the shafts of light. Ariella breathed deeply and raised her hands to the white