Dutybound

by Mark Aaron Alvarez

  “The girl, she could not—she knows no justice!” Wym roared.

  “She does now,” said the seraph as she, with one swift strike, sliced the head of the serpent off its body of nested vipers.

  The serpent’s glowing red eyes hardened, turning gray as it fell to the ground, crackling as its body turned from black to gray, shriveling as its extremities retreated into the mass. Holding up her scales and pointing her sword at the center of the nest, the seraph shot a beam of light into the serpent, and from within it was torn apart by a blaze of golden fire, incinerated into a heap of sparkling ash. Wym’s head crumbled, changing to stone as it weathered and disappeared into the smoke of justice’s fire. The seraph lowered her sword as it dissolved with a flash of light, releasing Lucia.

  Lucia floated downward, reverting back into her true form. Leo and Luzanna rushed toward her. Luzanna’s form changed, as well, as she glided to Lucia’s side. Leo transformed as he took Lucia into his arms. The survivors cheered.

  “Lucia, you did it!” Leo exclaimed.

  “We did it,” Lucia said, burying her face into Leo’s chest. She sobbed, overwhelmed by emotion. She was crying as the spirit of light filled her. Her faith had saved them. It had saved her home. Moz had survived.

  “I can’t believe it,” Luzanna said, embracing her friends as she let out tears of her own. “We destroyed it.” They held each other for what seemed to be forever, taking in the moment. The three of them, together, had achieved the impossible. Combining their strengths, facing their fears, and realizing their destinies had given their lives new purpose—purpose they found in each other.

  As the three dispersed, the armies and the people of Moz surrounded them. Angelo Sarf emerged, followed by Sebastien Bono, both covered in soot and blood. Angelo kneeled before them, and slowly everyone else did as well. “To our virtues of light—the mighty altruists of Terestria.”

  The air filled with warmth as tears covered Lucia’s face. These were her people, bowing before her, loving her. She remembered that fateful day, which seemed like ages ago, when she had been afraid of someday knowing what her people truly felt about her. But now she knew. I can rule.

  “Lieutenant,” Lucia said shakily, still trying to grasp the shock of all that had happened. “Where is my mother? Can you take me to her?”

  Angelo rose. “Of course. She’s taken refuge within Sky University. I can take you to her now.”

  Angelo turned to Bono. “Take the men and attend to the wounded. I’m going to take the high maiden to see Lady Ara.”

  Bono nodded. “Yes, sir!” The people clapped and cheered as Lucia, Leo, and Luzanna were escorted by Angelo Sarf to the grounds of Sky University.

  ***

  The city was still burning as they approached the doors of the university’s main building. Angelo held the doors open for the trio, who, despite their victory, remained heavy of heart and exhausted from their plight.

  “This way, High Maiden,” Angelo said, leading them to a staircase that ascended high up into the building’s western wing.

  Like her home, the university walls were made of marble with high windows of stained glass. It reminded Lucia of the sanctuary that was now gone. The entire place was everything she had missed this entire time. For a time, it had been all she wanted to escape her duty as high maiden. She’d longed to see the world and to be free to experience life how she wanted. But now in the halls of the university, she questioned that. As they made their way past elegantly carved statues and gracefully flowing tapestries, Lucia wondered about the very things she missed most of all.

  “Lucia, are you okay?” Leo asked, holding her hand. “You’re quiet.”

  “I’m fine. I’m just taking this all in. I haven’t been home in ages. I’d almost forgotten what home looked like.”

  They came to the end of the corridor, at the base of a large archway where two large ruby-colored doors stood. Angelo stepped to the side. “Your mother is inside. I’ll give you both a moment.” He looked to the others.

  Luzanna nodded. “We’ll see you in a minute,” she said, pulling Leo’s arm. “Let’s go.”

  Leo kissed Lucia on the forehead before parting from her and following Angelo and Luzanna toward the university entrance.

  Lucia looked back at the threshold. She couldn’t help but be reminded of that feeling as she reached for the brass handles of the ruby-colored doors. That dread, she thought as she pushed the door open. Candlelight seeped into her eyes as she walked through the door. At the foot of the bed sat Amelia, who immediately stood up, wiping away her tears.

  “Lucia, I’m so happy to see you.” Amelia whimpered as she attempted to hold herself together. She rushed to Lucia and took her hands.

  “Amelia, what’s wrong? I’ve never seen you so . . . ” Lucia felt it, coming up from its burrow and clasping her heart with its wretched grip. “No.”

  “I’m afraid . . . ” Amelia cried. “I’m afraid you’re too late.” She raised her hands to cover her face. “She’s gone.”

  “Who’s gone?” Lucia asked as tears flooded her face, refusing to believe the words she’d just heard. Her heart was racing as she rushed toward the bed. She saw her then, with her graceful face, pale and seemingly asleep in the candlelight, dressed still in her favorite color. “No,” Lucia cried, dropping to the side of the bed. She touched the side of her mother’s face, feeling the cold beneath her touch. “No, no, no. Mother. It’s me. It’s Lucia. Your daughter, Lucy. I’m here. I’m home,” she called out, but there was no response. “Mother, please. Say something!” Lucia buried her face into Ara’s robe. “I’m sorry I never listened. I’m sorry I didn’t believe enough. I’m sorry I wasn’t . . . ” The Light Wings glimmered as she remembered. If you stay, she will die. “I didn’t have a choice. You were supposed to live.” She whispered, “I was trying to save you.”

  “My dear, I’m so sorry,” Amelia said. “She grew ill after you disappeared. It was a mysterious sickness, unlike anything anyone had seen. There was no way of treating it. No doctor or scholar could describe what was happening. Many others in Moz are afflicted. It’s a plague.”

  Lucia swallowed hard, rising from the bed as her tears hit the top of her mother’s hands. She placed her cheek within her mother’s palm, rubbing it gently against her pale thin skin, trying hard to remember, to believe that her mother was alive, stroking her face. Lucia sniffled as she lifted her head and held onto her mother’s hand. “Just like Remena—the same thing happened to Emma and her people.” She faced Amelia. “My people.” She turned back to her mother. “Life cannot live without the light that created it. People are going to continue to die if we do not restore it.”

  “What are you going to do?” Amelia asked. “Moz needs you, now that your mother is gone.”

  Lucia shook her head. “This is bigger than Moz, Amelia. Terestria needs me. There are three more of those things out there, and there is one more virtue we need to find before we can fix all this.”

  Amelia lowered her head. “I understand, but . . . ” She continued to cry. “What are we supposed to do?”

  Lucia’s face felt numb. Her expression was stoic despite the constant outpouring of tears from her eyes. “Let’s start by doing the only thing we can do right now. Let’s bury my mother.”

  ***

  In the following days, a tomb was constructed atop what was once the grounds of Sanoon Manor. The people of Moz had started to rebuild with the help of Leo, his friend Sebastien Bono, and Lieutenant Angelo Sarf. At Sky University, its scholars and Luzanna were hard at work within its many libraries searching for a cure to the mysterious sickness sweeping through the city. And Lucia, the newly named lady of Moz, waited.

  The day the tomb was finally finished, the people of Moz gathered. The city’s inhabitants, who once came by the thousands to these very grounds to catch a glimpse of whatever festivities the nobles had pla
nned, now came by the hundreds, reduced to a mere fraction of what they once were.

  The day was the brightest Moz had seen in the weeks since the virtues had arrived. It was as if the world was in some way healing, but Lucia knew that was not the case. Even if Moz was healing, Aldric was gone, and no one had any way of telling whether Pinea had survived Lykorus’s attack, or if the Pineans still believed Leo murdered his own father. These were the consequences of Stello’s corruption—time and life lost, lives ruined.

  And still, three remained: hate, pride, and greed—each with now even more reason to despise light and its creations, with envy’s death.

  It was a victory, yes. That much was true. But in the face of all they had lost up till then, they were still on the losing side. Emma was now a slave to the darkness, serving the sins to see that Stello’s plans to redeem Terestria would fail. And they still lacked the final virtue they needed if they ever hoped to defeat the darkness.

  These things were on Lucia’s mind as she watched Moz’s royal guard bring her mother’s body into the newly constructed tomb of marble and glass. The people of Moz had decorated her coffin with makeshift flowers of different types of linen and ribbons. The flowers of the Pinean hills to the north had long since stopped growing. Winter had come, making it harder for any of their crops to grow. Famine was almost imminent; but with the reduction of Moz’s populace, rationing what was left per household was much easier. Yet, it hurt Lucia very much to see her people continue to suffer this way.

  Alongside Ara, the families of Moz laid to rest their loved ones as well on the grounds of Sanoon Manor, turning it into a resting place and memorial for all those who’d lost their lives that day. Lucia tried her best to find the right words to say as she took the podium. This was only her second public address, but her first officially as lady. She held her breath, watching as the people, clothed in black, cried amongst themselves. She recalled something her mother had once said. I believe now that you are ready to show the province and the world what you really are inside.

  Lucia sighed as Leo and Luzanna gazed up at her from the crowd with tears in their eyes, too. She collected herself, searching deep within for that strength her mother so boldly spoke of. “People of Moz, I come before you today, not as a noble, or a savior of any kind, but as your equal, as someone who, like you, knows grief. Grief is such a powerful emotion. It rivals only one other—love. And like love, it can consume you. But you see, no matter what, we must always remember, in the face of our pain, our suffering, our fears, and our doubts, that despite whatever we may be feeling, it’s in knowing grief that we truly know what love is.

  “And without fear, we’d know no courage. Without suffering, we’d know no reward. Without pain, no relief. Without doubt, no certainty. I come to you today, tormented by the same grief that consumes us all. But I’ve also come to tell you that this torment, this despair, it will not be the end of us. Because despite our differences, or our loss, we now know what love truly is—because we’ve faced evil, because we’ve faced death and survived.

  “So let us grieve and remember those we loved. Use that love to rebuild your homes, your families, and to rely on one another. Because it’s with our love, our faith, and our light that we will be able to overcome and conquer anything. In life and in death, with love, darkness cannot destroy us. With darkness may come fear, but as long as there is love, there will always be light.

  “Today, I’d like for you to listen and join me in this song as we remember those who have fallen. Let our voices ring as we sing. Call to the heavens and pray that those we’ve loved and lost will now know the true grace and love of the light.”

  Slowly, Lucia brought a hum up from within her throat. With it, like an angel, she started her melody, her devout hymn:

  I travel far and alone, seeking peace and simple bliss.

  But I have found myself in the darkest space.

  Still, I long to feel it:

  The essence of home, a place to call my refuge.

  Yet still, I must accomplish an unknown task.

  Will I find it here, or is it there?

  I do not know.

  So why must I go?

  Why should I walk this path alone?

  Is there truly something here for me?

  In the darkest depth, I must admit.

  This is where I belong.

  It’s as if I fight for no reason.

  For this is my conviction.

  There is something I must fight for.

  A revelation . . .

  This is not what I had planned for,

  But this is my contribution.

  This is my conviction.

  Because even when I lose, I win.

  This is fate conspiring.

  There is something guiding me.

  I must follow this feeling.

  Because with it, my heart sings.

  I can’t stop fighting this feeling,

  Not when these words keep coming.

  From deep inside, I can hear it,

  The drumming of my conviction.

  To accept my fate with light’s grace,

  Even from within the darkest place,

  This is my conviction.

  Because when I walk alone, it glows.

  Those who are led by the light,

  Must go where they are needed most.

  Into places where they can fight,

  Into places where their conviction can shine bright.

  A crack of thunder broke through the echoes of Lucia’s voice as her song came to a close. Her golden eyes were frozen as the rain slated over them. She looked outward into the darkening overcast of the northern sky, as the Light Wings began to beat with a vibrant violet light. With a deep breath, Lucia closed her eyes and listened to its voice as it whispered. “Into shadows, you must go . . . ” Lucia’s eyes opened beneath the orbs of sparkling water collecting on her long lashes. She turned her head, watching as her people prayed silently beneath the patter of rain, locked within the memories of her soft hymn. As she surveyed the crowed, her eyes were met by those of Luzanna and Leo, whose transcendent hope and shining temperance glistened within walls of sapphire and aquamarine. Lucia smiled faintly, blinking as she released the pendant from her grasp. Surely, the trials ahead would continue to test them. There was no cause to deny that the Light Wings would not continue to do so. However, Lucia could not absolve the lingering intuition—the same intuition that had plagued her from the day she first came into contact with the Light Wings. The familiar dread of uncertainty hovered over her as she strived to cling her spirit to the virtues they had discovered.

  Acknowledgments

  First and foremost, I’d like to thank the many people who have supported me throughout the many years of Dutybound and Light Wings composition, family and friends alike. I’m incredibly grateful to the mentors and peers who encouraged me to write and to NEW Apprenticeship (formerly the Digital Creative Institute), who provided me with the incredible opportunity to pursue a career as a content writer and digital marketer in San Antonio, Texas. Without you, I would not have chosen this path for myself. So, much credit to NEW Apprenticeship and its CEO Brad Voeller for taking a leap of faith and bringing me aboard.

  I’d also like to thank my line editor Audra Gerber at Creative Detail in Austin, Texas, for being the first to read my novel and provide me with insights that would eventually lead to its publication. You helped make Dutybound so much better. To the people at JKS Communications, thank you for making my boyhood dream a reality with your brilliant polish, editing & publishing expertise. This is definitively a dream come true, so sincerely thank you.

  To my team at Light Wings Promotions, thank you for everything you do to keep our company thriving and in supporting the Light Wings brand name. And one last special acknowledgment I’d like to share is to my dear, sweet Big Momo
, Esther Lopez, who passed this last Thanksgiving. The portfolio you gave me for my 11th birthday, to this day, still holds all the original handwritten stories I used as source material for Dutybound. I wish you could be here to read it in its completion. Among all my supporters, you were always my biggest fan. With love, I so humbly thank you all for this achievement. From here on forth, I shall remain Dutybound.