by Casey Odell
The bottom of a large gear jutted out from the ceiling just inside the entrance, its square teeth unmoving. White marble covered every surface, giving it a sterile, uninviting feeling. They climbed a small set of stairs and went through another pair of immense wooden doors into a room with a soaring ceiling. Stained glass windows lined the walls high above, depicting various scenes and people in long robes. A second-floor balcony circled a third of the room, lined with marble columns. The plush, red carpet underneath her feet led up to a dais with a grand throne of the same white marble and crimson cushions. A burgundy cloth hung from the wooden beams that crossed the ceiling, sweeping all the way down the wall to the back of the throne in a grand fashion. It was beautiful, opulent, but cold, lacking in any personal touches.
Lianna kneeled at the foot of the empty throne. The guards followed, kneeling down behind her and taking Claire down with them. Silence fell across the room. Claire glanced around, feeling a little silly bowing to an empty throne. Was she missing something?
“My, my, that was faster than I expected,” said a deep, smooth voice.
Claire looked up just in time to see a tall man step out from behind the throne and felt the blood drain from her. A light gray jacket, with rows of silver buttons, hung open over a lean bare chest, and black slacks were tucked into gleaming, black boots. That must be the King, or whoever was in charge. But that wasn’t why she froze. No, the reason was because the man in front of her shared a striking resemblance to another silver-haired elf she knew, except this one was a little fairer, features a little more elegant, silhouette a little more slender. His long platinum blonde hair hung over his right shoulder in loose curls, slightly mussed, as if he had just risen from bed.
Lianna rose to her feet and climbed onto the dais to stand next to the beautiful man. His deep blue eyes rested on Claire. Darker— yet they looked so familiar it was uncanny. He raised a hand and dismissed the two guards. After they left and the large doors clunked closed again, the elf slumped down onto the throne, throwing a leg over one of the arms casually.
“How is my dear brother?” the silver haired elf asked.
“You’re his?” Claire gasped, still kneeling in front of the throne.
She wasn’t sure who he was asking, but she sure hoped it wasn’t her because she was rendered speechless once again. She slumped down on the floor, throwing etiquette to the wind. Besides, it seemed like this King wasn’t too big on formalities, given his attire and posture. And that’s when it really hit home. Manners must not run in the family; perhaps the two elves really were related. And if that was the case, then that meant Farron’s brother was royalty, a king. What did that make him then? Perhaps she’d been too hard on Farron after all. If she would have known he was royalty, maybe things could have been different…
Or not. She hadn’t gone that crazy, yet.
But why would he run away and leave all this to hide away in a forest? The elf had a lot of explaining to do. Or someone did. She didn’t care who did, as long as she got some answers, and soon. Her head felt like it was going to implode.
“You can see for yourself. I expect he’ll be coming after this one.” Lianna’s sultry voice broke Claire from her daze. A smirk slid across her perfectly pouty lips. “He stole her from the Syndicate.”
At that, the King perked up in the throne, his eyebrows shot up, and a glimmer reached his eyes as they spotted the bracelet on Claire’s left wrist, the last reminder she had of her mother.
“I don’t know whether he’s getting reckless or just more arrogant,” Lianna huffed as she crossed her arms.
The King stood without saying a word and approached Claire with an almost child-like awe on his face. He stopped in front of her and knelt down to join her on the floor.
“What is your name?” he asked kindly.
“Claire Tanith, Your Highness.”
“Líadan,” he said. “That is my name. Son of the great King Earnehard.”
Claire just nodded, not knowing what to say to that. Or even if she should say anything at all.
“Let’s see it,” he demanded, eyeing the bandage wrapped around her right arm.
Lianna bent over and drew a small dagger from her left boot before she joined them and seized Claire’s arm. She slipped the dagger underneath the white cloth, cutting away the strips with ease.
Claire didn’t even try to protest. She knew the drill by now. Besides, she was still in too much shock— not to mention too tired— to argue. So, she just watched the King in a sort of half daze. The two elves looked so similar, but already she could tell how different they were.
When her arm was finally revealed, the King made a tsk-tsk noise.
“He didn’t do this to you, did he?” he asked as he reached for her arm. His fingers traced along the long jagged scar that bisected the intricate lines of the mark.
It took her a moment, but she assumed he spoke of Farron. “No,” was all she could manage to say.
“Does it still work?” he asked, his voice gentle.
“Uh, I—”
“You’ve awakened, yes?” He raised his eyebrows inquiringly.
“I, I don’t—”
“Answer him!” Lianna shouted, standing behind the King with crossed arms. “Do you not know how to speak now?”
He held up a hand and Lianna grew quiet. “Child,” he said with growing amusement, “you have no idea what you are, do you?”
She shook her head. That was mostly the truth.
A soft chuckle bubbled up from the King’s throat, slowly growing to a full out laugh.
“Li, I do believe you are right. We should expect my dear brother in a few days.” He stood and looked down at Claire, the laughter now gone. “In the meantime, let’s get this one acquainted.” He bent over and lifted Claire’s chin with a gentle hand to face him. “Do not be afraid, little one. You are my guest here.” He smiled then, and it wasn’t pleasant. “But I’m afraid, now that you are here, I cannot let you leave.”
Claire was silent for most of the walk through a labyrinth of white marbled hallways and stairs. Dark and closed in, the walls featured art from the nation’s colorful past, depicting wars and kings and even more wars. Lianna led the way, just as quiet as her, with no extra guards, no grabbing, no rough handling. Either she wasn’t viewed as a threat or she really was a guest in the palace. Either way, the fact remained the same: she was a prisoner, no matter how she looked at it.
“You are free to move about the palace as you wish, except for the private quarters, of course.” Lianna’s voice finally broke the long silence and seemed softer than before, less threatening. “This is where the guests usually stay.”
The cramped hallway opened to a grand round tower. The walkway curved gently up along the wall, with a stone banister, leaving a great expanse of air in the middle to stretch all the way to a glass domed ceiling several stories above.
“Do you stay here?” Claire asked. If she was going to be staying here, she might as well make a friend, or at least someone that could tell her what she needed to know. Besides, they were sort of the same, strange glowing mark-wise anyway.
“I am not a guest,” Lianna replied.
They began to climb up the ramp-like walkway, passing alcoves set into the wall at intervals, each featuring a different piece of artwork on display atop a pedestal.
“Are you a prisoner too?” Perhaps she was in the same boat as Claire.
“I am a prisoner of my own volition, you could say.” She slowed her pace and a smile crept over her lips, but it didn’t look all too happy. “You will learn. This life, what we are, what we can do. I know it’s difficult, but it’s not entirely bad either.”
Lianna stopped in front a door on the third floor and turned to look at Claire before opening it.
Luxurious didn’t even begin to describe the room inside. It was the most beautiful bedroom she’d ever seen. A large four-poster bed stood in the middle of the grand room with high ceilings. An open archway that
led to a balcony sat to the right; there were no doors, only indigo curtains tied to the side and sheer ones drawn to blow in a gentle breeze. A seating area consisting of two long chairs and a small table lay between the bed and the balcony.
Claire slowly entered the room, her mouth slack with awe. Maybe it really wasn’t so bad. And if Mother could be here, then it wouldn’t be bad at all, even if she was a prisoner.
“I will let you rest. Surely you must be tired. I know I am. A good fight always takes it out of me.” Lianna grinned, still standing in the doorway. “Trust me, when you see the baths, you will not want to leave.”
Claire forced a small smile. At least the woman was warming up a little.
“Tomorrow you will meet the other one,” Lianna said, glancing down at the mark on Claire’s arm.
“There are others?” Claire asked foolishly, the proof already standing right before her.
“Yes, there is another— another insufferable one.” She put her hands on her hips. “I will send for you in the afternoon. Until then.” With that, she spun on her heel and left.
For a few moments, Claire just stood there, in the middle of her new room, the door wide open. Overwhelming fatigue crashed down on her then. She could have collapsed right there on the shining, marble floor. Her body swayed slightly and she shook her head. No, that would hurt, and she had enough bruises already. She took a deep breath and shook her arms in the air in an effort to wake up a bit.
After she closed the door, she crossed over to the balcony, brushing away the sheer curtain as she stepped out onto it. The sun hung low on the horizon, the sky burning with yellow and orange. The view was spectacular. She could see for miles; the palace itself sat upon an outcropping high above a sprawling city below, a sea of red-tiled roofs. Beyond that lay the crop fields, and beyond that a vast forest of green, and even beyond that, a tall mountain range, blurred by the haze of distance.
She was high, higher than she’d ever been before. Her hands clasped the light curtain behind her tight, as if their flimsy material could save her from falling. She felt small and very insignificant in the enormity of it all. It was beautiful, though. She took a deep breath to help soothe her nerves.
In any case, she sure wasn’t escaping from this balcony.
Out there, somewhere, was her mother. And Farron. Guilt stung deep in her gut. She closed her eyes briefly and hoped he was all right. He had to be. She refused to believe otherwise. Besides, with those fancy powers of his, those Syndicate men should be easy to deal with.
After admiring the view for a little while longer, she turned back to the room and tottered to the bed. She plopped down on top of it, sprawling out across the covers. It didn’t take long for her eyes to close for the sleep that she desperately needed, dirty clothes, sweat, dust and all.
Claire awoke in a momentary bout of confusion. Yet another new room greeted her, a new prison. Bright sunlight filled the room, stinging her eyes. It took a moment for the pain to register throughout her body. She felt battered and bruised, stiff and worn, even more so than she had expected, her body still not fully recovered from her near encounter with death.
Slowly, she raised her hand up in front of her to look at the mark. Innocuous in the light of day. It was, however, the root of all her problems. She sighed and let her arm drop onto the bed next to her. She was a prisoner once again, no matter how gilded the cage may seem.
She finally arose a while later when a servant knocked and brought in a tray of food. Simple porridge steamed in a bowl that seemed way too fancy for the contents, but the plain breakfast proved to be just what she needed to help quell her upset stomach.
For most of the morning, Farron filled her mind. They’d said he’d come after her, but would he really? He’d run away from this place, for whatever reason. Would he really come back just for her? From what she had seen so far, she really couldn’t understand why he would leave all this behind. But then again, even the shiniest things lose their luster when the truth is found out.
In any case, she didn’t have much of a choice but to sit and wait and revel in the luxuriousness. At least until she was able to find out more about her captors, and what exactly they planned to do with her.
As promised, the baths truly did not disappoint.
Bigger than most buildings, the room was as fancy as the rest of the palace. The ceiling reached two stories high and a large round stained glass window took up most of the outer wall, filled with blue and green, splashing the colors across the room. Tiny cerulean tiles covered the round pool in the middle of the room. Steam rose from the waters, mixing with the light scent of incense burning.
She spent the rest of the morning lounging in the warm pool, nursing her aching joints, muscles, and bones. She just wished there was something to help the growing ache in her head. But she knew that even if she did find a cure, it would just return again anyway. There was still too much she didn’t know, didn’t understand.
Marla, a slight older woman with graying curls and the sweetest disposition of anyone she’d ever met, knocked on her door in the afternoon, just as Lianna had told her.
Claire sat at a small vanity in the corner of the room, combing her hair for the first time in weeks, with a real comb, and not her fingers. She was still reveling in the calm, the luxury. She couldn’t do anything about her current situation, so she might as well enjoy it.
“Come in,” she called, standing up from the tiny bench, her long white robe swirling around her legs as she turned to the door.
She watched quietly as the maid closed the door behind her. A white dress hung over her left arm. Claire eyed the garment sadly. It wasn’t that she didn’t like it, or wasn’t grateful; she just really hated to borrow clothes. Inevitably, they got torn and stained. Her last set of clothes still lay folded at the foot of the bed, in need of a good wash and mend.
Without protest, Claire let Marla help her into the new garment, feeling a little awkward undressing in front of someone, even if she was a woman.
“This will have to do until we can get something made for you.” She slipped the simple wrap dress over Claire’s shoulders.
Silk trimming ran the length of the front, the rest of the dress made of a light cotton material. The sleeves ended halfway down her arms and once closed, the neckline plunged into a deep V, a little more revealing than she was used to. Marla helped her wrap the long tie around her waist several times before tying it off in a bow at her side. Claire took a deep breath, and although better than a corset, she still wasn’t used to such tight bindings.
Marla grabbed a pair of white slippers from an armoire across the room and helped her slide into those before ushering her out of the room and through the shadowy hallways.
Before long Claire stood in a different world. Green was everywhere. The sun shined high in the sky, illuminating the most magnificent garden she’d ever laid eyes on. So full of color, so full of life, it contrasted starkly against the dreary castle. A stone path led through the grass, between two rows of hedges, past a tiered fountain, until it reached a vine-covered pergola. Underneath, in the light shade, sat a round table, complete with a white linen tablecloth, a fancy tea set that must have cost more than a month’s of her past wages, and Lianna, who sat languidly in one of the delicate looking chairs.
Lianna beamed as Claire and Marla approached, her generous bosom pushed up in a fine corset of red and ivory silk. Her blonde hair fell in soft curls around bare shoulders. However magnificent she looked the day before, in her armor and weaponry, she looked twice that in her finery. Claire slumped a little. Some things were just not fair.
Marla gave a brief curtsy and then she was gone. Claire stood there for a moment, clasping her hands in front of her, unsure of what to do or how to start. Thankfully, Lianna did it for her.
“Did you rest well?” Her voice was like velvet and sounded out of place in the bright light. “I see you have found the bath. I hope it lived up to your desires.”
“Yes,
and it was wonderful.”
“Please, sit.” Lianna sat up in her chair. “I do not want you to be afraid of me. We are so much alike, after all.”
Claire could have argued that point but decided not to, and instead sat quietly in the chair across from Lianna and eyed the various dishes spread across the table. Small cakes and other finger foods, too fancy to ever be eaten, sat on even fancier dishware.
“I must apologize for yesterday. I didn’t mean to be so abrupt or scare you, but the situation was different than I had expected. Fare always did attract trouble.” She smirked at the last part as if lost in a fond memory.
Claire’s eyes grew wide as it finally hit her. This was the woman. The one that haunted Farron’s heart. She didn’t know how she had missed all the clues. It seemed so obvious now. And very depressing. How could she ever live up to that? Not that she wanted to…
Quickly, she glanced around at the surrounding garden to collect herself, feeling suddenly flushed.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
Claire looked back at Lianna and hoped any smidgeon of surprise was wiped off her face. “Yes, it is. It’s so different than the rest of the castle.”
“That’s because it’s mine.” Lianna grinned as she began to pour a cup of tea. “I told his majesty, that if he wished for me to stay, he would give me a garden, a place all for myself.”
Now the woman had everything. She was perfect. She lived in a castle, had flawless looks, the heart of one silver-haired elf, incredible powers, and a fancy garden to top it all off. There’s no way Claire could even be in the same species as her.
Claire picked up one of the small cakes and took a bite, barely even tasting the delicate sweetness of it. If the King thought he’d get another one of Lianna, then he’d be in for a trunk-load of disappointment.
“I am sure you have a few questions,” Lianna said as she poured another cup of tea and handed it to Claire. “I know I did when I first came here.”
So many new questions entered her mind; she didn’t even know where to start. So, she stuck with an old one.
