She turned her focus again on the dancing flames, as a much different night broke through her thoughts- the night of the Rejicio campfire. The emptiness inside of her magnified suddenly and a pain beyond that of burning skin echoed around the hollow chambers of her heart. She wrapped her arms around her chest, attempting to close the gaping hole that had formed within. The emerald green eyes of Prince Regulus seemed to peer at her piercingly in the air between her and the fire. She shuddered as the memory of the lightening that sparked between them, the night they listened to the legends of the three beasts, flickered to life.
She let out a trembling sigh and squeezed her arms more tightly. She sniffed, holding back the tears that were constantly fought against. Images of those she was missing terribly- the Doctrine, Titus, and her deceased father Lord Animus- managed to break their way through her mental barrier. Even the castle itself, with its magnificent flower garden, busy courtyard, and generous helpings of delicious food from the royal kitchens sent an ache of longing through her soul. What she would do to flop down onto that pink silky bed with the long flowing curtains and dine with her favorite serving girl and friend, Ventus. But out of all the things and people she had missed since leaving Trigonus, Regulus was the one that her soul ached most desperately for. What she would do to see him, even from a distance, just to fill her heart again with the sight of his kind face. Mythia remembered how her mother had told her, that if she were ever away from the person she loved, she would understand true pain. A vice seemed to squeeze her beating heart as she stared into the heated flames, feeling as though the thread that wrapped around it was still tethered tightly to his. She wondered, as she watched the never-ending dance of fire, if Regulus still felt it too.
2. THE KING AND THE SON
Prince Regulus squinted searchingly as his eyes adjusted to the dark room. Cloud covered moonlight casted only a hint of relief from the deep blackness.
“Here!” Regulus hissed as quietly as he dared, motioning to an old woman with white wisps of hair to take his hand. The lady hobbled across the stone floor as quickly as she could, her back hunched over. She grasped tightly to the prince's strong hand with small withering fingers. He began to pull her across the room, but she was not moving merely as fast as he needed her to. Scooping her up into his protective arms, he rammed the door open with his shoulder. He slid out carefully, making sure the alley in front of her house was empty.
He quietly hobbled over to the edge of the stone wall, peering stealthily around. Two guards paced back and forth down the cobblestone path in between a row of homes. He glanced up at the dark sky as a cloud floated away from the moon, cursing under his breath. He held on more tightly to the old lady as she shakily wrapped her wrinkled arms around his neck and hopped over to the opposite side of the house. The path on this side was clear, so he dashed across it, the tendons in his forearms standing out from the exertion.
Regulus stopped suddenly at the end of the path, pulling in gasps of air through his teeth. He waited till the sound of walking faded away before turning again, dashing across the stone road. Finally, he reached a small house covered in ivy and moss. He gently lowered the old woman to her feet and knocked on the wooden door six consecutive times.
The door creaked open; a pair of sapphire eyes surrounded by long dark hair and beard, peeked cautiously around the edge. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw who it was.
“Every time there's a knock, I think it might be them,” the Doctrine said, shaking his head and opening the door wider for Regulus and his companion to enter.
Prince Regulus led the woman into the house and motioned for her to sit at the kitchen table. His emerald eyes glanced over at the Doctrine. “I knocked six times... that's what we agreed on, isn't it?”
The Doctrine hung a pot of water over a roaring fire. “Yes, but still… They are capturing more and more of the donatus every day. It's only a matter of time before they either realize that I have awakened gifts or that I was holding Mythia in my home before she moved to the castle. The king sees criminals in the most innocent. It’s only a matter of time before he sees traitors in his friends.”
Regulus nodded his head toward the old lady and lowered his voice to a whisper, leaning closely to the Doctrine. “You don't mind taking another one in, right? She shouldn't give you any trouble.”
“As I said before, I have no problem bringing in the most endangered of the donatus. Until I'm tracked down, they will be safe in my care... It wouldn't be the first time I've harbored multiple fugitives.” He smiled gently, then lowered his voice even more. “I can't imagine this old woman would last long in the dungeons. Was she really on the list of those to be imprisoned tomorrow?”
“Yes,” Regulus sighed. “Along with about a dozen other innocent people. I try to pick the most vulnerable to save... If only I could save them all.” The prince rubbed his face, then placed his hands on his hips. “Thanks a lot, Doctrine. I owe it to you. How's the other one faring up?”
The Doctrine glanced over at the spare bedroom, where the door stood slightly ajar. “He's healing. I have managed to cure the infection in his arm, but I am no physician. He won't be ready to leave for at least a day or two.” The Doctrine went over to the fire and poured steaming water over tealeaves in a mug. He handed it gingerly to the old woman.
“Thank you,” her voice creaked out, looking up at them with a pair of small watery eyes. She blinked out a tear and looked over at Regulus. “I will never forget this, but I shall also never be able to repay you for your kind deeds.” Her lips trembled as she forced them up into a smile, another tear falling down her wrinkled cheek.
Regulus placed a hand on her shoulder, kindness reaching his eyes. “I will do all that I can to protect my people, Isolde. Just keep yourself safe and take care.” He turned around and headed toward the door.
The Doctrine stepped in front of him and glanced quickly over at Isolde who was busy with her tea, then back at the prince. “What about you, Regulus? Are you safe? Or...” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Have your gifts awakened yet?”
Regulus shook his head. “I'm safe. There's nothing in me but flesh and blood.” He placed his hand on the door handle. “Take care, Doctrine. I’ll be back to guide them out of Trigonus as soon as I can.” He pulled open the door and walked out of the small house, back to the huge, looming triangular castle that towered over the city.
◆◆◆
The king strutted, positively fuming, his rage filling the council room, from the high ceilings to the tall, stained glass windows like billowing smoke from a chimney. He paced back and forth, clutching his hands behind his back until his fingers were white, the crimson cape whipping behind him with every turn that he made. The iridescent dragon on his black leather vest beat along with his strong, pounding heart. He paused suddenly, his cape wrapping around him, as he ran a hand aggressively through his tousled dark hair. His once smooth, slicked back jet hair was now permanently disheveled, falling down a chiseled scowl and narrowed, emerald green eyes.
Lord Ulric burst through the double doors, carelessly allowing them to bang loudly against the walls, and strode in, his pointed face more alight than it had been all summer. “Sire.” He bowed down deeply before resuming his posture.
“Lord Ulric,” King Tribus faced his best knight. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I have come bearing news, sire. The news we have been waiting a very long summer for.” Lord Ulric smirked, his cold gray eyes glinting in the candlelight. Two beefy, thick bounty hunters walked in through the doors, both smirking along with Lord Ulric, looks of absolute smugness in their ruddy faces. They wore a strange assortment of unmatched chainmail over long, dirty brown tunics. They both plopped onto one knee, bowing deeply down toward their king.
“What is this?” King Tribus demanded. “Why have you brought these bounty hunters into my council room? They are to drop off the donatus in the dungeon and collect their rewards from the guards on duty. You know this
, Ulric.”
Lord Ulric loosened his blue cape from around his neck. “No, no, no, sire, you don't quite understand. These two aren't here with donatus, they're here bringing the news.” Ulric pulled up the corner of his lips as the king's expression changed to curiosity.
King Tribus crossed his arms over his leather vest and faced the bounty hunters. “What is this news that you bear?”
They stood up from their knees, one of them nearly tripping over his own feet as he did so. The bigger, gruffier looking of the two spoke first. “She's alive, your highness. We saw her. She took away the donatus that we caught while we weren't lookin', but we saw her with our very own eyes.”
The other bounty hunter elbowed his companion. “She was there, she was. No doubt about it.”
King Tribus walked slowly over to them, narrowing his flaming emerald eyes. “Who?”
The two bounty hunters grinned at each other, clearly savoring the moment. The bigger one looked back at the king, his lips pulling up to a sneer. “The queen, of course. Queen Mythia!”
The black pupils in the king’s eyes appeared to be swallowing up his green irises. “Are you absolutely sure?”
The second bounty hunter nodded his head earnestly. “It was her, sire. She wore the silver crown with the little triangles, just like the one you have on your ‘ead!” He pointed desperately to the top of the king's hair.
“And you say she took the donatus you had captured?” Tribus asked slowly.
“Yup, took 'em without us even noticing,” the gruffier man explained. “We was just standing there, tryin' to figure out where our captives went, when all of a sudden she stormed out on a black horse, holding the children in her arms. She rode away before we could even get back on our own horses.”
The smaller bounty hunter had a look of pure awe in his eyes. “It was quite the picture, see. The queen, sitting high on her horse in a stream of light between the trees. She was gone as quickly as she came, heading northeast through the Borra Forest.”
King Tribus’s eyes glinted against the flickering candlelight that casted long shadows across the floor. “Very good. You shall be rewarded most greatly. Go down to the dungeons to collect your gold. Tell them I sent you. You are dismissed.” The bounty hunters beamed at each other, before turning away and tumbling back out of the room.
The king turned to face Lord Ulric. “Send out a dozen knights to the Borra Forest. Tell them to comb every blade of grass, every branch, every fallen leaf.”
Lord Ulric frowned. “But sire, there are no more resources, you've already sent all the knights to search for the queen throughout the entire kingdom; in between arresting donatus, who are multiplying rapidly each day, their city and castle duties, there's simply not enough-”
The king slammed his fist upon the arm of his throne, rattling the pictures on the wall. “I want her found, Ulric! I want her found now! I don’t care what it takes. My queen is out there, alive, while the kingdom crumbles around us. She must be brought back to me… she must be reasoned with, to end this curse she has casted upon our land.”
Lord Ulric immediately stopped his rambling and backed up carefully, starting to make his way to the double doors. “Yes, sire. I'm sure there may still be some free knights who have yet to pull double duties, I will see if I could-”
King Tribus strode over and grabbed at Lord Ulric's collar. He pulled him up face to face, his emerald green eyes burning with the fire that never died out since the disappearance of his wife. “I'm looking at a free knight right now, Lord Ulric. And you shall bring with you your closest friends whom you have somehow failed to assign extra duties to, and ride to the Borra Forest. You will start your journey the minute you walk out of this room, and you will not return empty handed or the consequences will be dire. Understand?”
The king pushed Ulric away, releasing his tunic like it had been tainted with something vile. The knight stumbled backwards, breathing heavily, his mouth hanging slightly open. “Ye- yes sire.” He quickly bowed and marched out of the council room, slamming the doors behind him.
King Tribus suddenly gasped as though in pain, his scowl melted away, his eyes widening with fear as blackness slowly sank back into his widened pupils. He lowered down to the ground onto his knees, trembling as his breathing quickened faster and faster, tears spilling out onto the council room floor. He lifted his shaking hands up to his face, staring wildly at his opened, trembling palms.
“What have you done to my kingdom?” His voice echoed around him in the empty room.
◆◆◆
The prince's emerald eyes, so much like his father’s but filled with a type of purity and kindness, watched the city of Trigonus from his chamber window, its many green rolling hills, dirt paths between moss covered stone houses, shimmering with an opalescent gray of dawn, shrouded in a low laying mist. He crossed his arms with a frown glaring at the once peaceful courtyard beneath his window, no longer the scenic happy view it had been throughout his life. It was now crawling with dirty, bedraggled bounty hunters, pulling screaming donatus by long, splintering ropes. Donatus, he thought to himself, people whose gifts of magic have awakened… innocent people with no control over their own fate… The prince sighed as his thoughts strayed to the nightmare that summer had been, with all his people being torn away from the horror their daily lives had become and thrown into the dungeons. They were forced to leave their cities in ruins from their gifts awakening out of their control, their loved ones dead or captured. All his knights were now pulling double duties every day, leaving no time for any of them to train or rest. They were now doing things that knights were never meant to do- hunting down donatus, while combing every blade of grass in all the kingdom of Terra for her. Regulus slammed his fist into the window, sharp pain searing across his knuckles. He leaned his forehead against the coolness of the glass and sighed deeply, his breath leaving hazy white streaks upon the windowpane.
The prince straightened up, a shadow crossing over his kind green eyes, the strength that once stood behind them like a shield casted away. He walked slowly toward the blazing fire on the opposite end of his room, the light creating moving shadows and warmth in the damp, cool air. He watched the flames pop and jump from behind the iron gate, dancing in rhythm to the chaos outside the castle walls. He could almost see the three beasts dancing within the embers, their shapes outlined by the memories of the Rejicio campsite.
Before he could stop it, his mind switched immediately over to that mystical night, when he finally dared to show an ounce of his feelings for Mythia, the chosen one, the unmarked from the legends. The supposed cause of all this mess. The queen of Terra… his father’s wife. Why did his heart have to fall for her? The pull he felt, sitting so closely beside her on that starlit night, was insurmountable and irreplaceable. He could still feel the blazing heat that they had held, as though he was flint and she was stone, and a spark was created between them. A spark of warmth that could never be replaced or imitated by anything since. A spark that could never be snuffed out. He tried desperately to push his thoughts of her out of his mind, but like any spark, it burned brighter and brighter until it spread throughout his whole being. Instead of letting it go he clung more tightly, wishing more than anything that he was out there with her, wherever she was, than inside this empty, damp castle watching his kingdom die.
3. THE HIDDEN CITY
A chill spread across the northern valley, tucking in between the blades of grass and lifting up Mythia's hair with frosted fingers. She shivered and shook the reins of her horse, trotting carefully off the plains onto a rough path between the two, towering Borealis Mountains that leered down menacingly above her, the horse's hooves skittering along the way over the slippery rocks. Mythia pulled him to a stop and slipped off his silky black coat. She held tightly onto his reins, helping him find the smoothest passage across the rocky path.
It was Regulus’s face that kept her going steadily on. She knew in order to ever see him again, she needed to first ma
ke her way here to see for herself what she believed lay hidden within the Borealis Mountains, the most northern part of Terra. Deep within her was a gift of the phoenix- a gift of internal knowledge, that pushed her to seek out the Rejicio before visiting any other city. She felt as though an invisible hand nudged her north, and when she closed her eyes, a directive path formed behind her eyelids glowing red within the darkness.
They continued this way until they were fully engrossed within the mountain ridge, no longer able to see anything but a thin strip of pale blue early morning sky high above. After nearly half a mile, they turned carefully around a bend and came face to face with a dark gaping opening within the mountain wall. Mythia stepped gingerly inside, pulling Noctis along with her. A cloud slid from the sun, as the shadow covering the mountain moved away, sending long streaks of light into the opening and landing upon something magnificent. She had found what she was searching for. A place she believed would give her momentary refuge. The place that was briefly mentioned to her last spring in the heart of a rebel campsite. A permanent dwelling for the Rejicio.
But this was far more than a dwelling. It was a city. A hidden city.
Thin streams of sunlight trailed into the tremendous cave, casting its light in long strips that landed softly across rows of low, white wooden houses that jutted up all over the cavern. There were hundreds within view, some of them high up on different levels, deep green moss growing everywhere the sun touched. Mythia walked slowly deeper into this secret world, taking in the incredible architecture around her as more and more buildings emerged in the tremendous cavern. Multiple thin bridges made from rope connected the towering levels, which went up nearly as high as the mountain itself. Rows of never-ending houses filled the cavern all the way to the top; stairs made from stone on every corner, going up higher and higher, far past where Mythia could see as the city sank into darkness the farther it got from the entrance.
Mythia: and the Awakened Beast Page 2
