by S. T. Bende
Was this really the realm I was born to rule? Where was the light? The love?
The hope?
Professor Asling folded her hands together, the movement closing down the screen. “In the years before you girls were born, we enjoyed a period of peace. At the time of your births, Svartalfheim had not attacked our realm in nearly twenty years. But after the barrier’s erection and the first Key Strike, the attacks resumed, and the queen ordered continual fortification in the barrier’s security. But the crystals powering the barrier possess a finite charge, and a constant source of replacements was required. Minister Narrik ordered all abled bodied beings in the mineral-rich regions to work in mines from dawn to dusk. This practice continues today.”
“My grandparents aren’t able-bodied!” Svarri cried. “Grandpa can’t even stand without his cane. Working that hard will kill him!”
“The government doesn’t care.” A curly haired girl sniffled. “They care only about what they think is the good of the entire realm.”
“I know, Andya.” Svarri groaned.
“But without good for the individual, there can be no good for the realm.” My hands balled into fists. “Surely they understand that.”
Andya shook her head. “It’s been that way all my life—and it’s not getting any better. My family used to be really close—we lived in one of the communal towns in the northern farming region.”
“We’re from there too,” a short girl with crimson hair chimed in. “Or, we were before Minister Narrik stripped the materials from our region and sent them to the barrier. Our families worked that land for five hundred years . . . but it only took them two days to shut down our community.”
“That’s horrible, Lyria.” Andya sniffled again. “It took them a month to shut down ours—at least we saw it coming. Not that it made it any easier.”
“Wait, how does the government shut down an entire community?” I asked.
“The queen’s cabinet found out about our town meetings.” Andya sighed. “A lot of members of our community were drafted and killed defending the barrier. We wanted to stand up to the queen—let her know we refused to lose anyone else for a cause we didn’t believe in.”
All around the room, students nodded in agreement.
“But . . .” I waited.
“But the cabinet caught wind of our plan and stopped us,” Andya said. “Poisoned the community’s crops, razed the fields, and published a Notice of Evacuation. They pulled our town’s charter, claiming a transference of minerals through the soil made the atmosphere too dangerous for dwellings. They imposed a military presence ‘for our own safety’ until we left.”
How was this happening? “Where did you go?”
“I was already enrolled here, so I came back to school. But my twin sisters were denied admission to next year’s class. They live with my parents on our new farm—a much smaller plot, and one that’s failed to turn a profit now that we don’t have any community support.”
“Didn’t everybody from your neighborhood move together?” I asked.
“Minister Narrik wouldn’t allow it. He declared our community subversive, and mandated all citizens live no closer than thirty miles from one another, or face incarceration.”
Our government could do that?
“I’m . . . I’m so sorry.” These girls deserved better. Their families deserved better. The realm deserved better. “Can’t anyone stand up to these monsters?”
“Those who do tend to disappear,” Professor Asling offered gently. “Before they were marginalized, the Opprør were able to improve the living situation for the more remote regions. But as you may know, their leaders were recently taken, so we’re left with just the queen and the Kongelig to govern us. And so long as the queen is in power, there’s little anyone can do to effect long-term change. The succession laws of Alfheim mandate that only a blood heir can challenge the current ruler for the throne. Without one, the queen must die before a new ruler cannot be nominated and confirmed.”
Was that why the queen hadn’t acknowledged me? Because I could actually threaten her rule? Icicles traipsed along my spine. How would I even do that? The Opprør’s leaders were missing. And if I challenged the queen without any support . . . and if I failed . . .
What would happen to me?
Andya and Svarri exchanged glances while I tried not to openly panic.
“Ladies.” Professor Asling shook her head. “You don’t mean that.”
The girls’ cheeks flushed in shame. “Sorry, Professor.”
Had she just read their minds? Oh gods, did that mean she could read mine, too?
“The queen will pass when it is her time,” our teacher chastened. “And when that day comes, we must be prepared to present a candidate who will honor all of the realm—not just those who line its purse or manipulate its leaders. But in the meantime, we have another pressing matter.”
“The missing crystal,” the curly haired girl whispered.
“Precisely.” Professor Asling rose seamlessly. She moved to the smartboard and scrawled loopy letters across the blank canvas. “Your homework for the week is to meditate on the crystal’s whereabouts. Recall the warmth it emitted and seek out that energy in your meditations. If you come across anything you believe may be useful—no matter how small—come to me immediately. We must all work together to salvage what we can of our realm. As Empati it is our duty to preserve the light of Alfheim . . . and to spread that light in any way we are able.” She used one finger to tap the Auric Adventures textbook that stood on the smartboard’s tray, and it floated neatly into the hand-woven bag hung from her desk chair. “Class is dismissed.”
Muted chatter filled the tower as the students packed up their tablets. They filed from the classroom, pleated skirts swishing at their knees, until only Professor Asling and I remained. The teacher’s back was to me, but being all knowing and such, she must have sensed my presence—she addressed me without turning around.
“Yes, my butterfly?” Bangle-lined wrists jingled as Professor Asling waved her hand at the eraser. It scrubbed the board clean.
“Oh. Um. I’m just wondering if you know . . . I mean . . .” I paused before blurting, “Why do the dying tree branches hurt me more than the Empati students?”
“You are an Empati student too, Sister Aura.” Professor Asling smiled kindly over her shoulder.
“Not a full time one.” I fidgeted with the strap of my book bag. “The administration doesn’t seem to know what to make of me.”
“Perhaps that is because you do not yet know what to make of yourself.” Professor Asling guided the eraser to its holder. She turned around and crossed to her desk. “You have tremendous strength, both energetically and physically, but you do not seem to recognize it. What is it that you fear?”
At the moment, I feared the queen, her council, that Narrik creep, the Kongelig at large, and the imminent destruction of my new home due to a missing crystal. But I doubted any of those were the answer she was looking for.
“Do you know what I believe you fear, Sister Aura?” Professor Asling held her tunic-clad arms at her side.
“What?” I rubbed one of the buttons on my blazer.
“I believe you fear your power. I sense you know you have a significant purpose to serve, and you fear the cost of fulfilling that purpose.” Professor Asling raised one eyebrow. “Am I correct?”
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly.
“Mmm.” Professor Asling closed her eyes. “Meditate on that. But to answer your question, I sense you are more affected than your peers because you have a deeper connection to the Alfheim Tree than they do.”
“If I’m more connected to the tree, does that mean I have a chance at figuring out where the crystal is?” Being the one to bring it home would definitely earn me points if I wanted to move in on my grandmother’s job.
“Possibly.” Professor Asling opened her eyes. “If you are as tied to the tree as I know you to be, you may have tools oth
ers do not. And those tools may enable you to sense the Sterkvart.”
“How do I find those tools?”
“That is an answer I cannot give you. I can tell you to focus on your grounding so that when the answer comes to you, you are present and prepared to receive it.”
Right. “I’ll try.”
“As often as possible, retreat to your quiet, inner space, and know that your spirit will reveal what is needed at the proper time.”
“Well, thanks. I appreciate your help.”
“Love and light to you, Aura.” Professor Asling raised her hand in farewell. With a nod, I shifted my bag and exited the classroom. My feet moved quickly along the stones of the tower staircase, and in no time, I’d passed through the glass doors that led to the courtyard.
“Aura.” I jumped at the sound of my aunt’s voice. Where had she come from?
“I didn’t hear you. You’re sneaky!” I accused.
“And you’re distracted. What’s going on?” Signy fell into step beside me. She steered me gently away from the throng of students who streamed from the castle, and navigated us back into the school, toward the area I remembered from yesterday’s tour as the faculty wing.
“It’s been a really long first day.” I followed Signy down a wide hallway, and paused outside what I assumed was her door. “Professor Asling showed my Empati class what’s happening in the mining camps. One of the girls’ grandparents were sent there last night. How long has it been this bad?”
Signy frowned. “The queen didn’t used to rule this way. She’s always been a colder ruler than her parents were, but she used to see the big picture. Things changed when Lily died.”
Signy unlocked the door and gestured for me to go inside. I stepped into the foyer and set my bag on the hardwood floor while my aunt closed the door behind her. She crossed to the kitchenette just off the entry and set to task preparing tea. I explored the apartment, lightly trailing my fingertips along the back of the plush, tan couch, the blue and white blanket I recognized from home, and the framed photos she’d taken of the two of us over the years. Her new home was small but pretty, with the same ornate draperies and dark-wood furniture I had in my dorm.
“Mom’s death must have been hard for her,” I said. “But to do what she’s done to an entire realm . . . to break apart communities and destroy families . . .”
“I don’t understand it. And I don’t excuse it.” Signy emerged from the kitchen to set a plate of cookies on the small dining table. She strode into the other room, returning a moment later with three sets of plates, saucers and teacups. When she’d made a third trip and placed a steaming kettle on a trivet, she stood back to admire her handiwork. “That will do.”
“It’s perfect. Wait, why are there three cups? Is Larkin coming over?”
“No.” Signy bit down on her bottom lip. “Aura, I don’t know how to tell you this, but . . .”
What now?
A curt rap at the door sent my heartrate skyrocketing. Signy’s nostrils flared as she looked over her shoulder. “She’s here.”
“Who’s here?” I asked. “Signy, what is going on?”
“Listen.” Signy took both of my hands in hers, a gesture I associated with an imminent serious talk. Anxiety trickled through me. “I just want you to know that whatever happens, I love you with all of my heart. You are my family, and nothing is ever going to change that.”
“Why would anything change that? Why are you acting weird?”
“Just remember my words.” Signy released her hands. She threw her arms around me and squeezed tight. Whatever was going on was most definitely not good.
Signy released me and darted to the door. She opened it, and ushered its knocker in with a hurried, “Welcome, Your Majesty.”
Welcome, your who, now?
My jaw unhinged as Queen Constance floated into the room, butterfly wings fluttering in all their glory. Her white gown swayed until she came to a stop in front of the table. My aunt bowed, and not knowing what else to do, I copied her.
“Be seated, Aura.” Queen Constance held out her hand. She lowered herself into one of the chairs, and Signy and I did the same. The three of us stared at each other uncomfortably. With everything I’d learned about my grandmother, I wasn’t sure if I should try to talk sense into her or club her over the head and hide the body.
Maybe I should have a go at both.
My aunt poured each of us a cup of tea.
“You may leave us, Signy,” the queen declared.
What? Why?
“With due respect, Your Majesty, Aura is under my care, and I have reason to believe it is not in her best interest to be left alone with you.” Signy kept her voice steady, though she now pushed back her cuticles—something she only did under extreme stress.
“I beg your pardon?” the queen trilled.
“I have been at Aura’s side since her mother’s death, and I don’t intend to leave her now. She has experienced tremendous upheaval in the past few days, and meeting you marks a major life transition for her. I am staying.” Signy reached over to squeeze my hand.
“I will allow it.” The queen raised her chin. “Aura.”
“Yes?” My voice bore the enthusiasm of a sedated turtle.
“How was your first day of classes?” The queen smoothed the front of her long skirt.
“Um . . . fine?”
“I suppose there’s no point beating around the bush. I requested this meeting because . . .” The lines around Queen Constance’s mouth softened slightly. “You have her eyes. Her hair.”
“She is the splitting image of Lily,” Signy said fondly. “Both inside and out.”
Queen Constance bristled. “In that case, you will be wise to remember no good comes from venturing below your station.”
Signy’s eyes narrowed. “I raised Aura to espouse the values Lily prized. An open heart. The honoring of all life. Tolerance.”
The last word hovered between the two women like a loaded gun.
“Then you have done her a great disservice.” The queen’s voice carried an icy edge. “Aura’s prophecy does not allow for such luxuries.”
“My what?” I asked.
“Your prophecy.” The queen drummed pink fingernails on the wooden table. “Surely you know what the Norns foresaw for you?”
“Aura will forge her own destiny,” Signy said fiercely.
“That is not how things work—especially not for royalty.” The queen shifted to look down her nose at me. “After your birth, the Norns decreed that one of two futures awaited you. You shall guide the realms to a century of peace . . . or you shall destroy them in war.”
My jaw unhinged. “I’m going to . . . to . . . destroy the realms?”
“I would prefer that you guide them to peace. Of course, that depends on whether you are willing to fall in line.” The queen resumed her fingernail drumming.
Skit.
“Aura, it doesn’t matter what the Norns said,” Signy urged. “Your choices determine your future—nothing else.”
“It is her choices that concern me.” Queen Constance’s eyes blazed. “I will not have my granddaughter destroy the realm I’ve sacrificed everything to protect.”
“Your so-called ‘protection’ has brought the realm to its knees,” Signy countered. “We’ve lost countless lives, given up our freedoms, abandoned any concept of hope. Our heartbreak prevents us from fulfilling our purpose. How can we share light when our own citizens live under a cloak of darkness?”
“What choice did I have? When our enemies robbed me of my daughter and attacked the realm, came after our infant Keys . . . I vowed that Svartalfheim would never again breach our defenses.”
“Yes, but . . .” I drew a shaky breath. “In doing so, you’ve robbed other parents of their children. So many of your citizens died defending the barrier. Don’t you think it’s time for a new strategy?”
Queen Constance blinked. “How dare you question your queen?”
“I
just think all the pain could—”
“Don’t think,” she said coolly. “Fall in line, and gods willing, you’ll stay alive long enough to carry out my legacy.”
My nostrils flared. “I don’t want anything to do with your legacy.”
“I have held our realm together through some of the worst attacks in our history. And while many question my methods, nobody can deny my effectiveness.” The queen leaned forward, a new ferocity burning in her eyes. “I am aware some in Alfheim wish to replace me. But the Norns chose me to lead, and that calling is a duty I will honor until my dying day—no matter what it costs me.”
The chill that hadn’t quite left my spine swept along my vertebrae anew. I didn’t want anything to do with this woman. Not now, not ever.
Queen Constance leaned back in her chair, the fire dimming from her eyes. “Now that that’s settled, I’ll take my leave. With the crystal missing, there are countless security issues to which I must attend.”
“About that.” I bit back my distaste. I just wanted this meeting to be over, but if I had to sit down with the queen, I might as well get something out of it. “Is the crystal tethered to the realm? Does it have some kind of tracking device? Anything that can help us with the search will—"
“If it had a tracking device, I wouldn’t be asking students to assist in finding it.” The queen raised her teacup to her lips. “And yes, it is tethered to the realm—though it was also tethered to the tree, for all the good that did us.”
“Crêpes,” I whispered.
Signy reached over to rest her hand on mine.
“I just sent your associate, Larkin, on a fact-finding expedition on Midgard.” The queen took another sip of tea. “Her knowledge of the humans’ realm is impressive, so I assigned her a team of warriors to interrogate anyone who may have information leading to the crystal’s whereabouts.”
Signy stilled. “We weren’t informed of Larkin’s departure. Did she get to say goodbye to her daughter?”
“How should I know?” The queen arched one eyebrow. “It is a straightforward mission, she will return in due time. And if she doesn’t, well . . . dying in service to Alfheim is the highest honor to which a Protektor can aspire.”
