Fragments of Light

by Beth Hodgson

  Sneering behind the drink of her cup, Ikaria shrugged. “Truthfully, sister, why should I help you? I have every reason to hate you.”

  Ayera’s face softened. “It’s not my fault, sister. I didn’t want to marry him. It was Father’s wish.”

  “You mean the High Court’s wish.”

  “I had no choice,” Ayera said, sounding flustered. “Must we continue to fight over this? Can we please put this aside for the good of our sector?”

  Ikaria huffed, narrowing her eyes at Ayera. She was such a peacemaker; it made it even harder for Ikaria to hate her. She was right. It wasn’t her fault. It was the High Court’s fault. Always.

  Ikaria swirled her goblet in a circular motion lazily, taking a deep drink of her wine.

  A chance to prove how wrong Ayera is about the damn High Court is worth studying with that boorish loser. And the fact that he is blue-gifted… I couldn’t have asked for anything more perfect.

  From the moment of the first incident of the magical illness reported years ago, Ikaria knew the High Court was somehow behind the magical plague. It was remarkably coincidental that the gifted losing their magic were secretly in favor of technology in their sector, and were her father’s old supporters. Now that magic was disappearing at a more rapid pace, it was almost consuming those who had no opinion on the matter. Ikaria suspected that the High Court was removing any and all who would oppose them.

  They were plotting to take her magic away. They had to be, seeing as she was the only violet in the world. She’d been a threat to them years ago when she was to assume to the throne, and she was a threat to them now. She had what they couldn’t possess. Ikaria could see right through them, and the High Court knew it. They had planted many High Court spies within Ayera’s court, and Ikaria was simply weeding them out one by one as retribution for them taking away her throne. Her sister just happened to be an innocent bystander in their whole plot.

  It was true, Ikaria was to blame for those two unfortunate gifted—Lady Yasmin and Lord Valamir—losing their lives. But it was justified, as those two were vehemently in support of the High Court’s laws and undercover spies. If Ikaria were to crush the High Court after she completed the Spectrum of Magic, it would be on the blood of the High Court’s pious champions. Their magical blood contributing to her ultimate power.

  After a long moment of silence in the chamber, Ikaria said, “Have it your way, sister. I will help you. Although, when I find out the source of this illness, will you be willing to hear the truth?”

  Ayera’s eyes narrowed, and she leaned in. “What do you mean?”

  “You know damn well what I mean,” Ikaria said. She stood up, adjusting her top so her breasts fit back in place, then smoothed her hair. Flashing her best smile, she stated, “Now if you will excuse me.”

  “Do not go down that path, Ikaria,” Ayera said. “You will only stir up trouble if you do.”

  Ikaria turned her head, glancing over her shoulder. “Perhaps. But either way, I promise I will find the cause.”

  “Please stick strictly to your orders. I know you have much fascination for the ancient ways. We cannot afford to lose any more time.”

  “I will try not to get sidetracked, sister, but there are no guarantees.” Ikaria bowed, heading for the door.

  “Three weeks. I want to see results by then,” Ayera called out, still seated at the table. “And please, do not disclose this to the Emperor. He would be furious if he found out that I am assigning you to this task.”

  Ikaria’s mouth curved into a frown. “Believe me, sister, I have nothing to say to him.”

  “Thank you. And do try not to quarrel with Lord Kohren. He is the only blue in our sector.”

  And soon to be mine.

  “Only if he deserves it. You know I cannot tolerate jabs against my… lack of abilities,” Ikaria said pointedly.

  “I mean it.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  As the doors opened for Ikaria to exit, Auron appeared before her in the doorway. His golden eyes met her violet ones, giving each other a hard stare.

  “Sorceress,” Auron acknowledged with a nod.

  “It’s Enchantress,” Ikaria snapped. She loathed reminding Auron, as she knew he was among those who made fun of her “lack of power.” It was almost like a curse word. Soon they would realize how truly powerful she was. All in good time.

  Auron’s cumbersome body walked past her, then he turned his head. “The position is court sorceress, as I recall.”

  “Well, I changed it. I think you must be suffering from some sort of memory failure,” Ikaria retorted, walking away from him before he could get another word in. That damn priest always got under her skin. He will regret being on the wrong side, she told herself, trying to calm her anger.

  Ikaria made her way through the sky citadel’s maze of hallways and corridors. From the royal audience chamber, the main library was on the top level of the citadel, somewhat near her quarters. Many staircases and corridors had to be traveled to get to the higher levels. The main level had the court halls, audience chambers, shop quarters, the royal theater, gardens, and housing for some of the commoners who could afford to live within the royal sky citadel. The higher levels were for all of the wealthier citizens, a good portion of the World Sector Six guards, courtesans, lords, ladies, and of course, any and all of World Sector Six’s gifted.

  It was required that all gifted of the sector be housed within the royal sky citadel, whether they wanted to or not. It was their duty, in case the Emperor needed them for any reason. All other citizens of World Sector Six were housed in other floating citadels scattered throughout the territory. Only prisoners were sent to work on the surface. It was a death sentence, brought on by inhaling the noxious fumes, and it was anything but quick. The only people who knew how to survive the surface were earth-dwellers and prison enforcers, able to live in their structures for months at a time if needed.

  Ikaria vowed that someday she would visit Earth’s grounds for herself. Throughout her rigorous studies, she was always looking for an answer on how to best restore the earth to its natural state, a dream she’d had since childhood. And the only answer she had ever found was through the gift of the green. A power that was most desired, next to only hers.

  Ikaria arrived at the library. The guards on duty opened the door for her, then bowed their heads. “Sorceress,” they said.

  Ikaria gritted her teeth. As much as she wanted to correct them, she was much more excited to dig through the citadel’s historical documents and didn’t want to waste her breath on some lowly guards.

  Stepping inside, Ikaria took in the scents of the stale books, scrolls, and papers. It had been at least a year or so since she had set foot in the library. Only those with the Emperor or Empress’s permission gained access, which forced Ikaria to study in the lesser libraries within the citadel. The documents stored within this library were extremely rare and valuable.

  The library gleamed with intense white light, like the inside of a crystal. The white walls rose high above her, shelved with many books, scrolls, and papers, all categorized by eras. The ceiling was pure glass, allowing the sun to shine its rays into the room, lighting it like the daytime sky. There were rows of bookshelves with glass tables down the main center aisle, along with enchanted lamps radiating a warm orange glow. Kohren sat toward the back of the library, the second to the last table, engrossed in a scroll laid out in front of him.

  As Ikaria approached Kohren, he made no movement, not aware of her presence. Ikaria plopped down in a chair across from him, sliding the scroll that he was reading away from him, then placed it in front of her.

  Kohren flashed her an annoyed glance. “What are you doing here?” he asked, reaching for his scroll.

  Ikaria slid the scroll further away from him, fixing her eyes on his elegant visage. “Apparently my sister is impatient. You are taking too long finding the answers she requires.”

  Kohren’s face darkened, but otherwis
e he made no movement. “What she requests is nearly impossible. There are so many documents within here, it would require at least a team of us to read through this whole room in the time frame she requires.”

  “I agree. Luckily for you, I am the most learned of the court. I have ideas of where to look.” Ikaria put her feet up on the table, crossing one leg over the other. The slits in her skirt opened, baring most of the skin on her legs, causing the fabric to fall to one side. Kohren eyed her naked legs, unaffected, reaching for the scroll in Ikaria’s grasp. Leaning back, Ikaria began read the scroll he so much desired.

  Kohren’s water-blue eyes had disbelief written all over them. “No doubt you are quite skilled in the art of study, but I am reluctant to believe that you have an idea where to look.”

  “Really? Is that so?” Ikaria said. “What documents have you read from the Millennium Era?”

  “None. Why would I? There was no magic during that period.”

  “I daresay you are quite wrong,” Ikaria said.

  Kohren narrowed his eyes. “What makes you so sure?”

  “Only that if you had read historical documents, ones that the High Court deems inaccurate, you would find when the rebirth of magic surfaced. That, my lord, happened sometime in the Millennium Era. That means there is magic during that time that needs to be studied. Perhaps there is an account of a plague but having the opposite effect.”

  Kohren shook his head. “So you are going off false accounts? Everyone knows that the birth of magic happened after the Apocalypse, not prior. It is a wonder you are still appointed court sorceress.”

  Inflamed at his dismissive behavior, Ikaria threw the scroll back at him, smacking him in the face. Leaning in to him, Ikaria sneered. “Need I remind you that you are failing at your job? I daresay you would be much more brilliant in your thinking if you would read all historical accounts, not just ones that the High Court stamps with their mark of approval. Unless you have personally scried that time and can give me a full account, I will be looking through the Millennium Era documents. Now, are you going to continue to insult me, or are you going to work with me? I have no problem giving a full report to my sister. Which will it be, Lord Kohren?”

  Kohren’s face remained frozen except for his eyes, which flashed with annoyance. In a smooth voice, he said, “I think it’s best not to argue over the details if we are to work together.”

  “Excellent,” Ikaria said, then sat herself back down again. “I quite agree. You may continue to search through the Post-Apocalypse documents, and I will focus on the Millennium Era documents, possibly the Beginning Era.”

  Pausing for a moment, Kohren nodded, clutching his scroll. “Good plan.”

  “Thank you. It’s about time someone acknowledged my skills,” Ikaria said coldly. “Now, let’s have some wine and get started.” She flashed him a fake smile.

  “I don’t drink. It clouds my mind.”

  “I daresay, you should try it, my lord. It makes you much more creative in your thinking,” Ikaria said smoothly.

  “No, I am fine,” Kohren said firmly, sweeping his long blue hair over one shoulder. He immediately shifted his focus to the words of the scroll in front of him.

  “If you insist,” Ikaria huffed, wandering off down one of the side aisles. “Why is everyone in this sector so dull?” she said loudly enough for Kohren to hear a few tables away.

  Deep within her consciousness, Ikaria summoned her violet magic. Her power was a shade darker violet than before—a result of her red blood consumption. The same thing had happened when she consumed Lady Yasmin’s orange blood.

  Magic seeped out of her mind, reaching out and mildly brushing Kohren’s thoughts without leaving any of her mind’s fingerprints behind.

  A crooked smile appeared on her face as her violet eyes narrowed. Just what I thought. We have another roach in our sector.

  Ikaria then disappeared into the depths of the bookshelves.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  GREEN

  The fragrant scent of lilacs filled Emerald’s nose as she awoke to the morning dawn. The sun’s pale pink light painted a warm glow over her bedroom, replacing the dark mood with a lighter, more hopeful feeling. Everything looked different since her last night with Derek.

  Emerald sat up in bed, immediately noticing a bouquet of lilacs sitting on her nightstand. Her heart began to pound in her chest, wondering if it was Prince Derek who had sent them. Smiling, she selected a lilac from the vase, sniffing the soft fragrance of the flower. Purple had always been her favorite color.

  “Rise and shine, Princess,” Glacia said in a chipper voice as she came in with a pitcher of water, setting it down on her nightstand next to the bouquet. Her eyes looked a bit tired, but with her wild white eyeshadow and deep rouge lips, the handmaiden looked well put together for having so little sleep.

  “Glacia, who are these from?” Emerald asked, smelling the lilac one last time before inserting the flower back into the vase.

  “Who do you think sent them?” Glacia giggled, wandering off into Emerald’s closet and rummaging through the clothing. “How did you sleep?” she called out.

  Emerald smiled. “Hardly.” An image of Derek entered her mind: the moment he kissed her hand. The image she’d had in her mind all night long. She gazed dreamily at the lilacs Derek had sent her. “When were the flowers sent up? Did you bring them in?”

  “They came sometime in the middle of the night. I waited until you were asleep to set them up. Which, by the way, took you forever. I was literally up all night, no thanks to you.”

  Emerald laughed. “It’s not my fault that the prince sent me flowers.”

  “Yes, it is. Completely your fault.” Glacia appeared from the closet with several dresses in her hands. She held up each garment one at a time for Emerald. A sea-foam green, a white, and a soft pink. “Which one do you think?” Glacia inquired.

  Emerald glanced back at the lilacs, then turned back to Glacia. “I would like to wear something in light purple. Please fetch me what I have in that color.”

  Glacia beamed and chuckled softly. “Sure.” Glacia quickly went back inside the closet and returned, holding a sheer lavender dress. “Princess, you must wear this. It’s perfect.”

  And perfect it was. The lavender dress hugged her from her chest to her hips, then flowed to the floor. The bodice was secured by a silver choker with a large purple stone in the center. There were strings of pearls secured to the front and back of her bodice, which laid the delicate strands of beads across her bare shoulders. Emerald selected a matching silver circlet and earrings, both adorned with purple gems. Glacia combed Emerald’s green locks, letting them flow softly down her back when she was finished.

  By the time they arrived at the platform that housed the palace gardens, the morning fog over the city had begun to dissipate, allowing Emerald to see the ocean that was distant on the horizon. The morning air was perfect, cool, and refreshing. The gardens had many exotic flowers, trees, and shrubs from all over the world, perfectly manicured, permeating with delightful scents of all kinds. Freestanding stone pillars stood tall and proud with crawling vines decorated with assorted blooms.

  She spotted Derek seated at a table at the far end of the patio, drinking what appeared to be his morning coffee. He was dressed in a light-blue jerkin adorned with silver. The image of him looking out into Arcadia’s expanse was a picture in and of itself. Everything was at peace. Him, the city, and the gardens all melted in a bask of golden colors from the sun’s rays. The transports that streamed across the sky twinkled as their metal reflected the warm light. She noted to herself that this very picture would be her next painting.

  As Emerald walked through the gardens on its stone walkways, Derek turned in her direction. His sapphire amulet flashed in the sunlight as he moved, along with his silver rings and an ear cuff fastened on his left ear. The light of the day captured the depths of his icy blue eyes, instantly searching hers, watching her every move. As she approached h
im, her heart began to race.

  Emerald extended her hand, and he bowed, gently touched hers and giving it a soft kiss. Peering with his captivating eyes, he greeted her with a warm smile.

  “Good morning, Princess.” He took her hand and escorted her to the table, then seated her and himself.

  Emerald nodded from her seat, returning his smile. “Good morning, Derek.” Nervously, Emerald continued. “I received your flowers this morning. Thank you. They were quite lovely.” Her cheeks burned as she smiled at him sheepishly.

  “You are welcome. I wanted to be the first thing on your mind this morning,” he said, letting out a small laugh. “Did it work?”

  Emerald started in on her coffee. “I am not telling.”

  Amused, he cracked a smile, then took a sip of his own. “I will take that as a yes.”

  “How did you sleep? I hope your quarters are suitable.”

  “They are quite remarkable. But as far as sleep, I must admit someone robbed me of it.”

  Inside Emerald was screaming with excitement, and it took every ounce of her energy not to show it. “You flatter me,” Emerald jested, waving at him dismissively.

  “That is no flattery,” he said, laughing and flashing her a dashing smile. “By the way, I didn’t get a chance to compliment you on your hair color. The last time I saw you, you still had your natural color.”

  “Thank you, Derek. It took my father some convincing, but in the end, he finally approved. I thought it would be fitting for my namesake,” Emerald said, swallowing her lie. Derek never knew her secret, nor her true hair color. The last time he saw her she was seventeen, still hiding it under an auburn wig. Emerald had used wigs until her coming of age at eighteen.

  “It looks rather beautiful on you. I would even say that it looks more fitting on you than your natural color,” Derek said, admiring her locks.