Lost Prince

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Lost Prince Page 11

by M. A. Roth


  Morrick’s face turns red with anger. “I fell in love, that was my reason. What’s yours, Sarajane?” He points an accusing finger at me.

  “None of your Goddamn business and take your finger out of my face!” I stand up, feeling intimated being so low.

  “Enough!” Mirium bangs his staff on the ground again.

  Tristan doesn’t move, but he works a muscle in his jaw.

  “This will do no one any good!” Mirium says to the back of Morrick. If looks could kill, I would be dead.

  Morrick turns away from me. “Ask your source where King Paulus is. Could you do that for me? Father?”

  The air catches in my lungs. Father that meant he was my granddad. Why was everything kept from me?

  “You stupid boy. I tried to keep you from harm’s way. Yet your temper will get us all killed.” Mirium looks out the windows anxiously “If anyone heard.”

  Morrick looks only slightly guilty. “No one did, Mirium. Sorry.”

  I feel like screaming at them, but I remain silent.

  “Just find out where he is.” At that, Morrick leaves with Tristan heavy on his heels.

  That leaves me and my granddad alone.

  “Get some rest. The room is set up in the back.” I don’t question anything or reply. What is the point?

  ***

  I wake to Mirium tapping on my door. “Breakfast, Sarajane.”

  I grumble something unintelligent before getting up. I’m in a bad mood. Too much stuff has been hidden from me. How could I save this world with so many lies and secrets around me?

  “Good morning,” Adora says, looking chirpy. Why am I not surprised to see her here? Anyone could pop up anywhere.

  “Hmm,” I reply, burying my head in the mug. I am a morning person at the best of times. But this morning I just want to be left alone.

  Adora seems to pick up my vibes.

  “Avitus asked me to inform you that there will be no training today so you can help out with the wounded.” Mirium says.

  I stand up without replying to him and get dressed.

  It doesn’t take long to find out where the wounded are. I just follow the cries of pain and the smell of decay. There is so many injured… and I wasn’t surprised when I see all the buildings that have collapsed. The casualties keep pouring in.

  “Where are they all coming from?” I ask a woman who is rushing around.

  “It’s not just our own… small settlements around Humus are being attacked, so they came here for refuge and help.”

  I shake my head in dismay. So many people. I wonder if the small settlement of Gaul has been attacked.

  I remember seeing mostly women, and my stomach

  tightens.

  “But at least Aquaterra soldiers have arrived,” the woman says on a happier note than scurries off.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  SARAJANE

  I can’t stop staring at all the wounded. There aren’t enough beds, so bodies line the floors. I try to clean wounds, but we start to run out of bandages and have to use bed sheets, tearing them in strips.

  Women and children seem to be the most hurt. They are defenseless, unlike the men. Anger boils inside me. Why is Luna ordering her soldiers to do this to innocent people?

  “Sarajane.”

  I turn to Alana; she is trying to hold up a pregnant woman. Blood stains the woman’s tunic and it flows onto the floor. I hop across bodies and help Alana get the woman onto a cot.

  “Please… my baby.” The woman’s eyes are filled with fear as she pleads with us. I wasn’t a nurse, but I can see we will be lucky if we can save her. Alana calls orders to me, to get towels and hot water, as she tries to calm the terrified woman. My clothes are soon stained in blood and sweat.

  It’s been several hours and they just keep coming, it isn’t showing any signs of slowing down. I rush back with water and towels. Alana’s face is paler than normal, and she grabs my arm, causing me to slosh water over my leg. The hot water stings, but Alana doesn’t seem to notice.

  “Hold her down! We have to get this baby out.” Alana has her sleeves rolled up and the woman’s knees pushed apart. I stand at the lady’s head and lay my hands on her shoulders. Spirit help me calm her. I plead. The woman’s face looks gray, and a sheen of sweat covers every inch of her displayed body.

  “Ready?” Alana asks the lady and then looks at me.

  I am screaming no on the inside but I nod. “Yes, ready.”

  Alana tells the soon-to-be mother to push, and she does with every bit of strength within her.

  Her son is born dead. Alana places the baby into the woman’s shaking arms as she cries over her son. Alana continues to try to stop the bleeding, but her face is growing more and more concerned.

  I move down beside her. “Can I do anything?” I ask.

  Tears run down her face, but she hides it from the woman with a bowed head. “She will die,” is all she says.

  My heart breaks a little more. I can feel her life slipping away and there is nothing we can do. When I look up, she is gone, a smile left on her face as she holds her baby.

  Alana throws the cloth back into the bowl. The water has turned red from all the blood. She scrubs at it as if it can take away the sorrow of the situation. I lay my hands upon her raw red ones. “She is with her baby now.”

  Alana meets my eyes, hers are still full of tears. “Why create us and then let so much sadness happen?” she says. “It’s not fair.”

  I hug her. “I know it’s not.” I had no words of comfort right now. My gaze keeps flicker to the woman and her baby and I try not to let it sink in too deeply. I help the next wounded and after a few more hours of cleaning, we leave as other women come in to take over.

  The night sky is lit with fires from all the dead. I make my way back to Mirium’s and meet one of Marcella’s soldiers on the way. He touches my arm gently.

  “Marcella would like to see you.” I just nod and go to walk off. But he stops me again. “Maybe you should change,” he says hesitantly.

  “Yeah. Tell her I will be there soon.”

  He inclines his head and leaves to pass on the message. I return to Mirium’s no-one is there as I change robotically trying to keep my mind off the little baby boy. A sob tears from my throat and I cover my mouth to keep the cries in. Its tiny little hands had only ever felt the inside of its mother. It never even got to breathe in our air. I quickly leave Mirium’s once I’m changed as I try to outrun the horrible image that won’t leave me alone.

  “Darling! Come in!” Marcella calls in her sing-song voice as she sips what I can only guess is red wine, as it leaves a stain of red around her mouth. I sit and try to smile at crazy Marcella, but my heart aches.

  “Are you enjoying your stay with us? I do hope Avitus is being a good host.” She takes a sip of her wine, letting me answer. She is truly crazy. People are being slaughtered outside her walls, yet she is pretending nothing is happening.

  I bite down the retort I want to throw at her. “Yes, he has made me very welcome. Thanks. Marcella, I don’t mean to be rude, but I was helping the wounded so I would like to get back to them.” I give a little curt nod, hoping it looks respectful not resentful.

  She takes another sip of her wine, holding the stem between her thumb and index finger. “Then don’t be rude. And there are plenty to look after the wounded. Darling.” She raises an eyebrow that she has colored in with black powder, making her look like something out of a circus. “Are you not happy to spend some time with me?” she asks, her voice implying that I should not answer this incorrectly or there will be consequences.

  “Of course I am, Marcella. Thank you for the invitation.”

  Marcella picks up a small gold hand-held bell and rings it. Two servers immediately appear as if they came out of the walls. Maybe they did, who knows.

  “More wine.” Marcella orders without looking away from me. Why do I feel a test in her stare?

  A glass is placed in front of me and filled full of
red wine, and Marcella’s is refilled. I lift it and take a sip, my stomach is not really ready for anything yet. As Marcella rises from her seat, her eyes light up. “Come, come.” She ushers me to follow her. So I do obediently, but not before the flash of the dead baby fills my mind. I rub my temples in an attempt to banish the image.

  At the far wall, she removes a key from her neck and inserts it into a panel that creaks open, revealing a long but well-lit hall. She places a finger over her lips. “We must be quiet.” There is something heavy in her words as she moves forward, full of excitement. Where is she taking me? We moved through small halls only wide enough for one person.

  We reach a door that looks like it was made of pure gold. Marcella glances at me; there is no more humor in her face. “Brace yourself, child.” Her voice is different now and I find myself taking a step back. She opens the golden door and steps through. My curiosity gets the better of me and I follow her.

  I am not prepared for what I walk into. Nobody would be. I know the minute I step inside the golden door that I am in the presence of something more powerful than mankind itself. Three beautiful white angels lie in glass boxes. The light that radiates from them is causing my eyes to water. I want so bad to touch them. But the closer I get, the more blinding the light becomes as I am surrounded in it. A gentle hand grabs my wrist and pulls me back.

  “Don’t get too close,” Mirium says. He is in awe also of what lies before us.

  “How is this possible?” I ask to no one in particular. But when I look around at the occupants in the room, I’m not surprised to see who is here with me: Mirium, Marcella, Avitus and Draco all look at me with similar expressions of awe on their faces.

  Mirium gives me a warm smile. “They are our founders,” he says. His smile slowly fades. “They are dying, Sarajane, which means Lucian has started to rise.”

  The hairs rise on my arms and the back of my neck. I look back at the angels. I am in the presence of angels.

  “What are their names?” I know it’s irrelevant, but I want to know.

  “Jeremy is to your left. Veronica is the angel in the center, and Sara is to your right.”

  I nod, not able to avert my eyes from them. Their wings are barely visible through the light, but what I can see is snow-white feathers that look so soft.

  “How much time do we have?” I ask, again to no one in particular.

  “We honestly don’t know,” Marcella answers, in the serious voice I’m not used to hearing from her. “We thought you might be able to tell us.” Her voice holds so much hope.

  I feel like crying. How the hell I would be able to tell is beyond me. I am only a girl and fell it in the presence of something this almighty. But I close my eyes and ask the question out loud, “How long have I got, in order to save Saskia?”

  The angel Veronica stirs, my heart crashes against my chest and the blood roars in my ears. Her glow becomes less intense and I can see her face. Her beauty makes tears come to my eyes.

  “Come to me, Sarajane,” she whispers in my head.

  When I reach her, I fall to my knees, in awe of her. I can’t take my gaze away from her angelic face. Her beauty is so unnatural that it does not belong to this world.

  “Closer,” she whispers again inside my head.

  I move closer, leaning against the glass, as tears slip from my cheeks, landing on its surface and then the glass is gone from under my palms and I fall through it. All around me is white. I feel as if my life is slipping away. Maybe it is, and for some reason I’m okay with that. I’m okay to give into this peace that fills me. No more dying babies, no more screams of pain. No more hurt. Just the sense of peace. I lie on Veronica’s white soft wing.

  “My child…”

  My heart skips a beat at the golden voice that rings in my ears. I can’t seem to open my eyes, but I don’t mind.

  The breath that brushes my face is as warm and fresh as the most beautiful summer’s morning. More tears come to my eyes. “I will tell you the future of what I see, and I see it so clearly. There are two paths. The first is that you will win this war, but you will die, and in doing so save Carew. Or he will die saving you. Your second path is a more unfortunate one. You will try to save a loved one’s soul, but in doing so you may lose your soul, and if that happens, the world will be no more.”

  Both sound awful, but the second one, of course, more so. How would I lose my soul? I can feel the angel stir underneath me, her hand reaches out to my face. I don’t need to see to understand what she is doing. The warmth that washes through me is enough. I feel as if the angel has touched my very being.

  “You have been touched by the hands of God.” Her voice rains on me before I’m washed in a burst of light so strong around me that I am sailing through the air. The wind is knocked out of me when I hit cold concrete ground. I don’t want to open my eyes, as the warmth is leaving my body. I know I am no longer in the presence of the angels. I am pulled from the ground and could sense movement around me. A door closes and I am moving again, then another door closes. The softness under me cushions my back but it has no comparison to the angel’s soft wings.

  “Veronica!” I call out like a child wanting its mother on a cold and frightening night.

  “Get some water,” someone commands. My face is held by strong hands. “Sarajane, come back to me,” Mirium’s voice is gentle. I know he will be worried but I don’t want to come back to this world. But I have to. I open my eyes slowly, expecting to be blinded by light. But only one candle burns in the dark room. Mirium’s worried face smiles at me. He doesn’t say anything; only kisses my forehead.

  “What did she say?” Marcella asks, unable to control herself.

  Everyone looks at me, waiting. But my eyes fill with tears; not of fear but in want of the angel. Mirium brushes my tears away and smiles sympathetically, as if he understands what I miss. “It can be unbearable to leave them, when we are in their presence. I cannot imagine what it must be like to be touched by one.”

  I want to explain, but my mouth opens and closes; no words will do the angel justice. Mirium nods in understanding again.

  Avitus appears with water, waiting patiently as I sit up.

  “Thanks,” I whisper. I stare into nothing, thinking about what Veronica had just said.

  The shifting bodies in the room make me look up. Marcella, Draco and Avitus wait patiently. Everyone is waiting for my answer. I take a deep breath and tell them exactly what the angel told me, without meeting anyone’s eye. I can sense them watching me.

  When I am done, Mirium lets out a heavy breath.

  “Okay this is good then. We could win this.” He turns to Marcella and Draco, who also looked optimistic.

  “We just need to keep the war outside at bay,” Marcella speaks up and I can’t place the two Marcella’s together. She must see the confusion in my eyes.

  “I’m a good actress, darling,” she says in her old crazy voice.

  “Why?” I genuinely can’t understand.

  “It keeps people away from Humus, the crazy leader with no brain. It keeps my people safer. No one sees me as a threat.” It seems a bit over the top, but it is an amazing deceit.

  Draco steps forward. “We must attack back now at the gates before they try to overpower us again.”

  I zone out as they talk, and Mirium joins them. I can’t stop thinking of all the implications of what Veronica has said… that even if we won this war against Lucian, either me or Carew will die. My heart feels heavy, and yet I am confused with my own feelings towards Carew. Why does it bother me so much that Carew might die? What hold has he over me?

  Avitus moves to my bedside. “I am going to organize our new lodgings, so you rest and Mirium will walk you over later.” He pats my hair with such tenderness.

  I fall asleep for a few hours. When I wake, only Mirium is in the room. He takes me back to Avitus’ new home, which isn’t far from his own. As we walk, I can’t stop the coldness that assaults my body. It’s like when Veronic
a left me she took all my warmth too.

  “It will pass.” Mirium’s soft words have me nodding my head. I’m too tired and tender to speak.

  We arrive at Avitus’ and I am greeted with open arms. Avitus has a fresh bed made up for me, along with clean nightwear.

  “Goodnight,” he says as he closes my bedroom door. I change and fall into bed, feeling warmth around me that sends me into a deep sleep. “Veronica,” I whisper just before my mind goes blank.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  SARAJANE

  I wake up, not to a shaking building, but to darkness and silence. I sit up, not sure how I am feeling, and light the candle on my bedside table. The light doesn’t stretch far but I’m aware of the shadow in the corner. My heart beats rapidly in my chest as I look up and into dark penetrating eyes. Carew stands in the corner wrapped in a black cloak. He doesn’t move and I will my heart to calm down.

  “What are you doing here?”

  At my words he steps towards me and into the light. The look on his face I can’t decipher. His brows draw down as he speaks. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I was leaving this for you.” His hands are tightened around a package. He takes another hesitant step towards me and holds out the package.

  The package isn’t heavy and my gaze flickers from it and too Carew, who is watching me carefully. I’m wondering how long he was in my room. The brown paper falls away and a knife slides out and hits the floor. Carew bends down and picks it up. “I intended to leave it here for you. I didn’t think you would wake up; you looked so peaceful,” Carew’s gaze roams across my face. I can feel the heat rise up my neck and into my face, once again I’m left with the question of how long he had been watching me sleep.

  “Sarajane!” Avitus’ voice rings out from the hall. “Are you alright?”

  I jump out of the bed and push Carew behind the door before I open it. “Yes, just had a nightmare.”

  Avitus nods reluctantly, “Okay, go back to sleep.”

  I give him a smile. “Goodnight, Avitus.” I close the door and lean my back against it. When I hear Avitus’ footsteps move down the hall and his room door close, I let out a breath.

 

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