by Helen Jones
‘Indeed,’ agreed Adara, her beautiful face beaming. Alma didn’t say anything – she just waited, fear and excitement swirling in her gut as she tried to stay calm.
Artos put down his goblet and looked across at her, his expression sympathetic. ‘So, my child, what do you make of all this?’
Alma paused before speaking, not wanting to say the wrong thing, conscious of everyone looking at her. ‘I am still a little confused,’ she said eventually, her hands twisting in her lap. ‘There’s so much I don’t understand about this. And I really have no idea where to start looking for your… Regalia.’ She said the word cautiously, testing it on her tongue.
‘I can help you!’ burst out Caleb, who’d obviously been waiting for his chance to talk. ‘We can research the missing items in the library, try and find out more information. My tutor told me there are documents in there dating back centuries, many of them unread. We just have to start looking and we’ll find it, I’m sure!’ Then, seeing the combined eyes of the Elders regarding him indulgently, he sat back, suddenly abashed at his temerity in speaking out.
‘It is a good thought, Caleb, and I wholeheartedly agree,’ said Thorion, bringing a smile to the boy’s flushed face. ‘But there is more to be considered here. Alma’s safety, for one.’
‘My what?’ said Alma. The fear inside her solidified to a hard ball that banged around inside her stomach. She felt sick and took another sip of her drink, then wished she hadn’t.
Thorion turned to Alma. ‘You heard me say you were under my protection – do you now see why?’
Alma thought about it before nodding, her face worried. ‘It’s the Dark – they want me as well, don’t they.’ It was not a question.
‘Yes,’ replied Thorion. ‘You saw the Prophecy, heard the description that it held. You cannot deny that it was about you, no matter how much you may wish to.’ He regarded her fondly for a moment. His eyes gleamed blue as he smiled at her, then phased to grey. ‘But there was no mention in its words of whose side you are on. That is why it is so important that you choose, and that it be done freely. The Regalia is neutral – it represents balance between the Light and the Dark, the necessary existence of both in the world. The Dark may have forgotten much of their knowledge, but not this. They seek the lost pieces just as we do, but for their own purposes.’
‘So, I could have chosen to work with the Dark?’ said Alma, her eyes wide. ‘I… can’t imagine doing that. I mean, they just felt wrong to me.’
Artos, smiling proudly, looked at Adara and nodded, as though some long held belief of his had been validated.
‘It is always important to trust your instincts, Alma. What did they tell you today?’ This was from Lord Meredan, his white teeth flashing in his dark face as he smiled at her.
‘That the Dark were not to be trusted. That Gwenene, she was threatening me, I could feel it!’ said Alma, her anger rising again at the thought of the Dark Elder. ‘She couldn’t hurt me there, in front of you all, but-’
‘-if you met her somewhere else, somewhere alone,’ went on Caleb, his eyes wide, ‘she would use her powers, seek to turn you to their side.’
Seeing Alma’s frightened face, Adara sought to reassure her. “Alma, you have been presented to the council, placed under Thorion’s protection and have chosen for the Light,’ she said in her gentle voice. ‘This takes a lot of the power to harm you away from the Dark – they cannot move against you in an overt manner now. We tell you this only so you can be on your guard. We will keep you safe, I promise.’
Somewhat comforted, Alma looked across at Caleb, who gave her a friendly look in return. Relaxing, she realised that she could trust everyone in the room. But if she was going to help them she needed more information.
‘So, what is the Regalia, exactly?’ she asked. ‘And why is it so important?’
***
Standing in the gardens, idly pulling apart a flower, Deryck looked up to see his father coming towards him, his face like thunder.
‘So I take it she has chosen?’ he said, deciding to jump straight in.
‘That she has,’ replied his father, his mild tone at odds with his murderous expression. ‘For the Light, of course.’
‘Did you really expect her to choose any differently?’ asked Deryck, smiling a little. He quickly lost the grin as his father looked at him, surprised by the question. Even though he was his son, Deryck took no chances with his notoriously testy father.
‘No, not really,’ Denoris replied, his jaw clenching as he looked back at the Palace. ‘The question is, what do we do now?’
‘I have an idea,’ said Deryck, smiling again, and this time letting his father see it. Denoris raised one golden eyebrow, waiting.
‘Let me seduce her,’ said Deryck.
‘And what purpose would that serve?’ said Denoris impatiently. ‘Other than sating your own desires, of course. I understand you are young and-‘
‘No,’ cut in Deryck. ‘It’s not like that.’ It wasn’t, though he couldn’t quite explain why. ‘I make her fall in love with me. Then, bringing her to our side will be easy.’
Denoris regarded his son for a moment, frowning. ‘The idea has merit, I admit. But, have you seen her?’
‘I have, and she is pretty enough,’ said Deryck, thinking of Alma as he had first seen her, walking with Caleb through the green. ‘It will be no hardship for me, don’t worry.’
Denoris thought for a moment then broke out into a broad grin. ‘I won’t,’ he replied, slapping his son on the shoulder. ‘So, you seduce her, make her fall for you, then you bring her to me? Is that how this will work?’
‘Y-yes, I suppose,’ said Deryck, the ghost of a frown moving across his face. The fact that he would eventually have to hand the girl over to his father’s control troubled him somehow, but it was the only way he could see to make their plan succeed. Recovering his smile, he looked at his father. ‘So, I suppose I had better get back to the Great Hall. I need to make a good first impression.’
‘I’m sure you’ll have no trouble. You’re my son, after all.’ Denoris looked at Deryck, pursing his lips as though considering. ‘Fine, let us try this for a while. And Deryck,’ Denoris went on, as his son started to walk away, ‘I am impressed. Just make sure it works.’
Deryck grinned – his father so rarely praised him. Now to the hall, and the girl.
***
‘Ah,’ said Thorion, settling back into his chair and taking another mouthful of wine. ‘That is a story in itself. You already know it has three components – a cup, a sword and a crown.’
‘And that they are lost,’ interjected Artos in a gloomy tone. Yep, thought Alma, already got that part. The wine, which was excellent, was getting to Artos and Adara discreetly waved away a servant hovering nearby with a full jug. Alma watched the byplay with interest before coming back to the matter at hand.
‘But how did you lose them?’ she said, trying not to roll her eyes. Her head was starting to hurt. ‘I mean, when you lose something, don’t you look where you lost it?’
‘It is not so easy as that,’ said Thorion. ‘Our Regalia was part of the great life force that sustains us all, and so when the pieces started to disappear-’
‘Wait, sorry, did you say “started to disappear”? You mean, they didn’t all vanish at once?’ asked Alma, her brow furrowed.
‘No,’ replied Thorion. ‘The first one to go missing was the crown. It was some time ago, over a century ago in your world. One day it was here, the next it had vanished as though it had never been. This was when the Balance started to fail.’
‘The Balance?’ Alma made a face, concentrating hard as she tried to take it all in.
‘Yes, the Balance of good and evil, both in our world and yours,’ said Meredan in his deep voice, taking over while Thorion refilled his goblet. ‘That is what we are here to preserve, this Balance. Both Light and Dark are necessary, but, with the loss of the Regalia, things have started to tilt alarmingly in favour of the Dark. For, once started, th
e decline is cumulative.’
‘I’m sorry, you’ve lost me,’ said Alma, slumping back in her seat. She massaged her brow as she leaned her head on the velvet upholstery.
‘What Meredan means,’ said Adara, ‘is that bad deeds lead to more bad deeds, hate breeds hate. It has always been so, just as a proliferation of good leads to more good. We are close now to a tipping point, and the Dark is looking to gain the ascendancy once and for all. The Regalia was part of the control - with it gone, it is harder and harder for the Light to retain the Balance.’
‘For the Dark has no interest in maintaining it any more,’ boomed Lord Artos. ‘In times past, we worked together for the common good, but no more. As they have gained in power they have lost their way. This tussle for control has cost us far more than just the Regalia.’ He sat back, his mouth tight.
‘But, why is the Regalia so important? I mean, they are just things – you are still here, working to maintain the whatchamacallit, the Balance, aren’t you?’ asked Alma.
‘The importance of the Regalia lies in its neutrality – it keeps the worst excesses of the Dark in check yet allows enough pain into our worlds that we are able to appreciate beauty all the more. It also maintains the right to choose with humanity,’ said Thorion. ‘Humans have always fought – it is in their nature. But there have also been golden ages, times of peace and creativity when mankind has prospered and grown. If the Dark were to gain control of the Regalia then they would use it to force both this world and yours into chaos, removing free will and sending us into a spiral of destruction. This is the way the Dark likes things to be.’
Aghast, Alma stared at him. ‘So, if I’d chosen not to help you…’
‘The Balance would have failed, eventually. First in your world, then here.’
‘But, I mean, how can that happen? Wouldn’t people notice?’
Thorion shook his head, smiling gently. ‘It would be difficult to notice at first. Small changes happening every day, widespread at first, making it hard to see the pattern of events, of things getting worse. Until it got to the point of no return. And then the Dark would take power and that would be it.’
‘Although they wouldn’t last long either,’ said Meredan. ‘We are all part of the same whole, Alma, and if the Balance fails, it is the end of everything. The Dark are short-sighted in this regard.’ He sat back, folding his muscular arms, dark eyes sombre.
Alma was horrified. She looked around at them all, the beautiful faces, glad she had chosen to help them yet at the same time feeling more out of her depth than ever. The end of everything? Great, no pressure then. Swallowing hard, she glanced at Caleb then reached for her drink, taking a sip before speaking again.
‘So, um, the Regalia, how does it work? I mean, you both used to maintain it, now you don’t. Is there some sort of ritual attached to it…?’
‘It simply being here was enough,’ said Artos, his lined face sad. ‘Golden and glowing in the alcove, rooted deep into the land. Its power kept us all safe, kept the worst of the Dark at bay.’
‘So, when did the other pieces disappear?’
‘The cup was the next to go,’ said Meredan. ‘Again it vanished, spirited away one night.’
‘Maybe you should be keeping an eye on these things at night,’ blurted Alma, then blushed as everyone stared at her.
Meredan started to laugh, as did the others and Alma looked down, feeling silly. Once the hilarity had died down, Meredan nodded, still smiling. ‘Yes, you are probably right. But Alma, these things were guarded, in our Great Hall, the centre of our power – we have sentries on watch at all times. We just do not know how it has happened twice.’
‘So what happened to the sword? Did that vanish in the middle of the night as well?’
And with that the mood in the room changed. Unsure what she had said, Alma covered her confusion by taking another sip of her drink. Glancing at Lord Artos, she was dismayed to see a look of agony cross the old Lord’s face. ‘What is it?’ she whispered. ‘What have I said?’
Artos, unable to answer, looked away, his face working. Instead it was Adara who spoke, her lovely face uncharacteristically sad and shadowed.
‘The sword was lost some years ago,’ she started, then stopped, seemingly unable to go on.
As Alma looked around at the sombre faces, exhaustion swept over her. She wasn’t sure how much more she could take of this. After all, it was well after midnight as far as she was concerned. Seeing this, Thorion gestured subtly to the others. The meeting needed to be brought to a close.
‘I think, Alma,’ he said gently, ‘we have given you enough information for one day. Perhaps you would like some fresh air? I’m sure Caleb would be happy to walk with you in the gardens.’ Caleb sat up at this, but Alma shook her head.
‘Thank you, I mean, that would be lovely, but I think I just need to go home now,’ said Alma, looking apologetically at Caleb. ‘I’m just really, really tired.’ She yawned then, just to punctuate the point, covering her mouth so as not to offend the assembled company.
‘I will take you back to the Gate,’ said Caleb, trying to hide his disappointment.
‘Thank you Caleb,’ said Thorion, looking fondly at them both. ‘But I hope we will see you again soon, Alma?’
Standing up, Alma looked around at everyone. ‘Yes,’ she said, clasping her hands together in front of her as she spoke. ‘I’ll come back soon, as soon as I can.’ She wondered to herself when that would be, then remembered her manners. ‘And thank you for your hospitality. I just hope I can help you, that’s all.’
Adara rose gracefully and came over to envelop Alma in her scented embrace. ‘Just being here is a start,’ she murmured, before kissing Alma gently on the cheek. Then she took her leave of the others and left the chamber. Artos and Meredan stood as well, taking their leave of Thorion and pausing to shake Alma’s hand on the way out. Artos looked at her for a long moment, his eyes kind. ‘I believe you can do this,’ he said finally, touching her cheek lightly before he left the room.
Left with only Thorion and Caleb, Alma sagged a little, her mind full of everything she had been through that day. Coming to her side, Caleb put his hand on her shoulder.
‘Come on,’ he said, ‘let’s get you home.’ Smiling gratefully, Alma let herself be led from the room. As the two of them left, Thorion sat back in his chair, his eyes distant, deep in thought. Could she do this for them? Only time would tell.
***
Walking out of the great hall, Alma started to feel unwell. ‘Caleb,’ she said, her voice faint. He looked around in concern, hastening back to her as she swayed.
‘Are you all right?’ he said, his hand on her arm to steady her, his grey-blue eyes worried.
‘I’m OK,’ she managed to say, leaning on the closest pillar. The stone was cool against her hot cheek and she closed her eyes briefly. ‘I-I just need a minute.’
Caleb frowned. ‘Alma, you’re very pale. Perhaps we should sit down.’
‘No, it’s alright,’ she said slowly. ‘I can’t believe what just happened, I guess,’ she went on. ‘I mean, I’m supposed to be looking for something but have no idea what it looks like or where to find it, or even where to start looking.’
‘I will help you,’ Caleb said, his hand still on her arm, and she smiled at him. Turning her head she noticed for the first time the decoration on the pillar, which was carved with the figure of a knight offering a lady a token of some sort. As she leaned there, tracing her fingers over the shapes in the stone, Alma saw the edge of a cloak, deep green, flick around the side of one of the columns opposite – someone was there. Lifting her head she strained to see. Something about the elusive glimpse had caught at her senses, like a piece of music heard once then almost forgotten, drifting at the edge of memory. Her eyes widened as a tall figure emerged from the shadows, walking across the hall towards her and Caleb, illuminated by the glorious light pouring in through the glass dome. Her fatigue forgotten, Alma couldn’t take her eyes off him.
His walk was sinuous, powerful, smooth muscles working under deep green velvet, his cloak blowing out behind. And his face! Green eyes set above high cheekbones, a strong jaw and smooth moulded lips – it was the face of an angel, framed in golden hair waving back from his brow. She was shocked to feel her bracelet flare into heat against her wrist – surely someone this beautiful could not be of the Dark. But she knew it was possible, had seen earlier in the Great Hall that beauty was no indication of true nature. Yet still she couldn’t believe it. All this flashed through her mind as he crossed the hall to stand before them, looking quizzically at Caleb as though expecting him to make the introductions. Which he did, though with a face like thunder.
‘Alma,’ he muttered, quite unlike his usual amiable self. ‘May I present Lord Deryck. Lord Deryck, this is Alma of the Human Realm.’
Alma could not understand Caleb’s animosity. Deryck was utterly charming as he bent over her outstretched hand, his lips brushing her knuckle. Her breath caught in her throat as he straightened and looked into her eyes, green meeting blue with an intensity that surprised her and, she thought for a moment, him as well. She cleared her throat and managed to murmur a greeting back to him. Deryck merely smiled and said. ‘I hope to see you again soon, Lady Alma.’
‘As do I,’ she managed to stammer, before, with a swirl of green velvet, he was gone. ‘God,’ she breathed, gazing after him. ‘I mean, wow. He was just…’ Caleb looked truly annoyed.
‘Don’t waste your time with the likes of him,’ he said. “He is the son of a Dark Lord and nothing but trouble.’
‘But he seemed so… nice,’ said Alma lamely. She didn’t want to offend Caleb further by gushing over Deryck, but was unable to conceal her feelings completely.
‘They all do – that’s the trouble,’ said Caleb enigmatically. After that he would be drawn no further on the issue.
Deryck smiled as he walked away from the pair. Troublesome Caleb, and… Alma. He had seen the effect he had on her – the flushed skin, the trembling hands - and yet she had affected him also, her blue eyes gleaming clear as they met his own, the flame of her red hair standing out against her dark blue top. She did not realise her own allure and that in itself was fascinating. He shook his head as though to clear it of such distracting thoughts. The plan was in motion again. His father would be pleased.
