by R J Kaldanis
If only they knew her heart was entirely devoted to someone who was not her new husband. Noticing his young bride crying, the prince asked her what was wrong to which she replied,
“I just worry I will never hear a song as beautiful as this ever again.”
The prince pushed away her tears, grabbed her face in his palms and said,
“You never have to worry about that again.” Before kissing her gently. Aardriyah felt the princesses stomach turning upside down, felt the sensation of vomit racing up her throat and just as she was sure she was about to retch on the ground before her, everything went black.
When the blackness receded, Aardriyah found Kallostoria cradling a baby in a room within the same palace. She looked so happy, so content and so fulfilled but Aardriyah couldn’t shake an uneasy feeling rising in her, something wasn’t quite right about this picture. A quiet knock came from a wall beside the bed, Kallostoria perked up slightly, fixed her night gown and whispered in response,
“It’s safe.” To which the hidden door opened, and the musician stepped out. He began to cry at the sight of the baby and mother, and kissed Kallostoria passionately.
“I carved him this.” Said the musician, passing a miniature wooden instrument across the bed. Kallostoria laughed,
“I think he’s a little too young.” She jested, before placing another passionate kiss on the musician’s lips. Aardriyah wanted to believe it was happily ever after, that the family before her would grow old together and continue to rule for ages to come. She also knew this empires’ sigil didn’t exist in the new realm and had a sickening feeling that whatever was coming next would somehow explain it.
Aardriyah awoke and gazed into a looking glass, as tall as two men standing atop each other and just as wide. The woman staring back at her looked ghastly tired and ragged, large dark circles under her eyes and hair matted into long knots. She could feel Kallostoria’s anger, hatred and rage that was seething into the world around her. She marched to the balcony, looking down at the crowd who were dancing and laughing in the main circle, just as they had done every Solis Exitus. Kallostoria muttered something before making her way to the crib, baby screaming at alarming volumes. The door burst open and the emperor and prince stood in the doorway while a nurse maid rushed to the babe and plucked it from the crib.
“You can’t do this.” Kallostoria said to the men.
“It is a rite of passage for any child of Marconian Royal Blood. If it is worthy of the crown, it will live, just as you did, just as I did and many before us.” Replied her father.
Not flinching, Kallostoria stared the man down.
“I will not risk my child’s life on a cruel tradition for their enjoyment.” She pointed to the open balcony, indicating the crowds below who were begging for tradition to continue regardless of the inherit risk. They demanded blood, whether they knew it or not.
“Darling, you have nothing to fear, this child is the heir of two of the greatest fire empires.” Her husband replied, smiling slightly at the corners of his lips, a wicked glint in his eyes,
“Unless, of course, he is not -”
The rage within Kallostoria seethed, threatening to lash out and burn all the surroundings and those in her path. But she couldn’t, for fear that the child was not in fact fire blessed and would succumb to any slight lick of flame, so she tempered her anger and watched the men leave with the nursemaid and heir. Seconds later, the secret door beside the bed flung open and the musician who looked just as dishevelled and distraught raced to Kallostoria’s side. As he moved in to embrace her, he motioned back screaming while looking at his exposed skin - Aardriyah saw it, the blisters had already started to form as if he had been burnt directly by fire. His scream seemed to awaken Kallostoria, the fire burning across her skin suddenly receded as she quickly placed a hand over his mouth, while whispering over and over,
“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry my love.” Tears falling from her eyes.
Moments later a new landscape appeared, one that filled Aardriyah with certain dread and doom. She would recognise the landmark anywhere as it had filled her life with misery every day for the past eighteen years. She hated it just as much as the next Verosian, as it served as a constant reminder of their hatred for the fire blessed - the volcano of Mount Tromos. A large crowd of fire blessed surrounded the peak of the volcano, while the royal family stood on a long ledge of crumbling brimstone leading over the centre of the volcano’s opening. Aardriyah knew all of this was a twisted dream, but she could swear she felt as though she were burning, suffocating from the undeniable heat given off by the lava below.
The emperor was addressing the crowd, his daughter shaking beside him while he held the baby in his arms.
“Never shall a weak fire blessed rule over Marcon, this is a promise my family has fulfilled for the last thousand years and will promise for a thousand more to come. Vulcanus himself blesses us with strength to withstand even the hottest of fires and the deepest of pits filled with lava. It is his blessing alone that will see a worthy heir lead his people.” The crowd erupted in cries of cheer and agreement around the volcano.
“I give to you, Vulcanus, the nameless babe my daughter bares. Born of two great fire empires, Shahood and Marcon shall be forever united henceforth, with your blessing.” Then the emperor placed a single kiss on the babe’s forehead before placing it in his daughter’s arms. The crowd was going wild, chanting to a rhythm, clapping their hands in time and thudding each other’s backs in excitement. Aardriyah noticed a man struggling through the crowd, pushing past the excited revellers, crying and screaming out; it was the musician, she realised. He was just at the peak of the volcano, his body covered in boils from the heat, as he looked down and saw his beloved Kallostoria and child on the end of the ledge. Kallostoria looked up to him and without a word, she shut her eyes, took one final step of the ledge and fell back into the lava. The crowd went silent as the lava swallowed her whole, the musician was collapsed on the ground crying and begging for it to stop, for her to come back, for their babe to survive the cruel trial.
“Kallostoria! Kallostoria! Kallostoria!” He wailed, pounding his bloody fists into the side of the volcano. Aardriyah realised he wouldn’t survive much longer in this extreme heat and couldn’t bear to watch as his skin began melting. As if sensing his jeopardy, a large column of lava sprayed from the centre of the volcano, atop it stood Kallostoria, who opened her arms to reveal the baby had not made it. The crowd collectively sighed and expressed disappointment in the revelation that the supposed heir was unable to survive the trial. The prince smirked as he looked on at his rage filled wife, naked atop a mountain of lava. The emperor shook his head looking at his daughter, then to the prince, before noticing the musician dying slowly on the lip of the volcano.
“Get him out of here!” The emperor said while pointing to the musician, hoping that no one else had noticed the inappropriately devastated water blessed amongst their ranks. There had been enough disappointment for one day, the last thing the emperor needed was anyone suspecting that a simple water blessed musician had seduced his daughter, the crown princess of the strongest fire empire.
Kallostoria made a wave of lava down to the ledge she had only moments ago leapt from. Her father spoke sternly but quietly to her,
“I didn’t want to do that, but you gave me no choice.”
“There is always a choice.” She responded, staring down her husband.
“Don’t ever disappoint me again, you hear. Your people need a true heir and I don’t need another baby’s life taken away because you were too stupid to do as you were told.”
“And what of his children, father? Shall we throw them in lava too? See if they can swim the Vulcanus tides?” Her father stood aghast, unsure what to say.
“I understand I marry for this empire, that I am a breeding machine for your glory, for his glory,” she said motioning at her husband, “but I deserve love just as he does; I deserve t
o have children with whom I wish, just as he does.”
The prince stepped towards his wife,
“The difference between you and I is I tried to love you, I tried to give you everything, but you had already given your heart away to some untalented, lowlife scum you met on the street. At least I saved my heart for you, but you couldn’t even keep that sacred, could you?” He spat at her, before storming away.
The emperor looked at the crowd surrounding, trying to judge if they had overheard any of it, or if Vulcanus be willing, the sound of the lava bubbling below had drowned out the medley of words. If only he knew how little it mattered if they had heard it or not, for the anger that was unleashing within his daughter would ensure no one would have a chance to repeat the words ever again.
Kallostoria’s eyes shut, the veins in her neck pulsating quickly and fiercely through her skin, she was muttering some words that no one could understand while her fists clenched tightly, ripping the skin beneath her palms. The feeling was alluring to Aardriyah, she felt herself craving more anger, more hatred, more fuel to add to this fire. Everyone that stood there deserved to die, deserved to burn just as her baby and lover had - and just as she thought it, the volcano behind her roared to life, lava shooting high into the air almost kissing the moon, before falling and scattering on the empire below. Magma oozed out over the lips of the volcano, killing those weak fire blessed and unblessed; all those who stood there and watched as her baby died and did nothing to stop it.
“What have you done?” The emperor begged his only daughter, as he brought down a fire shield he had created to protect a few of the lucky citizens. The cries of the rest of the victims were now ringing in his ears as he watched his empire crumbling around him.
“I was going to let him live. I was going to let him live in exile. But you, you have just killed him.”
Kallostoria opened her eyes, before scanning the ruined city beyond, fires engulfing buildings, farms, humans and animals alike. Aardriyah felt the sudden regret, the pain and the heartbreak Kallostoria felt, as she realised just how powerful her hatred was. A voice rang out above all others, the same voice that had pleaded on the lips of the volcano just moments earlier. Kallostoria scanned the ruins, trying to find his deep blue eyes in a sea of gore. She finally found him, a second before the leaking magma swallowed him whole. The anger resumed its mission, the hatred boiling to a point beyond return. The volcano erupted once more with such might that the land on which the Marconian Empire once stood, was being broken apart, divided by cracks in the earth leading to pits of magma. Princess Kallostoria stood the sole dweller on the newly created island of Mount Tromos, looking over at the land she once called home.
“Never again.” She whispered to the wind, as a thick blanket of black rain fell upon the land and swallowed the Marconian Empire. With it, all evidence of the pure chaos she had unleashed on the people who had killed her baby and stolen her love. As Aardriyah’s presence floated above the scene, watching it dissolve to black, she could have sworn she heard a single echoing cry of a newborn baby.
CHAPTER TWELVE
distinguished practitioner
When Aardriyah awoke the next morning, she noticed the bed was wet, drenched with sweat that Kit was happily lapping off her legs. Rachida was still fast asleep and snoring heavily, giving Aardriyah a comforting feeling of home reminding her of how loudly her father snored. Remembering the dream and still feeling the heat from the volcano, she reached for her book, furiously scribbling down everything she could remember
“What are you writing?” Came the weary voice of her roommate, some time later.
“Dreams” was all Aardriyah responded with, barely looking up from her book.
Kit lunged over to Rachida’s bed, tackling her back onto the pillow before smothering her with wet kisses.
“Why can’t I be greeted like this every morning?” Rachida giggled as she scruffed the canine’s neck, continuing to whisper sweet nothings to the playful mutt. Aardriyah didn’t pay any attention to the world around her, entrapped once again in a dream like state as she tried to recall every last detail. She finally finished, placed her book upon the nightstand and sighed before falling back down on her bed.
“You look terrible, by the way.” Rachida chimed in, concern painted her face as she rose from her bed and made her way to Aardriyah’s. She placed a single palm on Aardriyah’s forehead before testing her own, then went back and forth with this process several times over. Aardriyah looked up at her, face scrunched and mouth in a tight pout.
“What are you doing?”
“Oh just testing your temperature. It’s funny, you’re as warm as me but you shouldn’t be.”
“Why? You seem healthy enough.”
“No silly, I mean you are too hot for someone like you, I’m always going to have a higher temperature for the fire that burns within my veins. But you, you should be much colder.” Rachida frowned down at Aardriyah before saying,
“I think it’s best we get you to the ships’ healer bay, just in case.” It was Aardriyah’s turn to frown,
“No. I’m fine. I just had a bizarre dream and perhaps it just affected me funny. Or maybe I just feel hotter because I’m in a room with a fire blessed. I’m fine, trust me.” She tried to reassure the woman in front of her, but Rachida was as stubborn as she was determined.
“If you are fine, then you’ll have no issue with a healer passing the same judgement.” Aardriyah rolled her eyes but didn’t move from her bed.
“And the best part is you will get to say, ‘I Told You So’. Who doesn’t love that victory?” Rachida poked Aardriyah in the ribs, before rising from her bed and moving towards the wardrobe. She gently placed a new uniform on her bed and placed a second pair of Aardriyah’s, neatly folded.
The healers bay was thankfully on the same level as the servant’s quarters so Aardriyah didn’t have to fend off too many curious eyes as she made her way through the wooden passages. Rachida knocked at the door before a young earth blessed man opened it. He stood proudly, hands on hips and smiled down at Rachida. He was astonishingly handsome, Aardriyah thought, with his skin dark as night sky and dazzling white smile that would make even the moon jealous. She’d never seen anyone like him and found herself staring at his perfect complexion and deep green eyes. He must have been earth blessed, she thought to herself.
“Sekher What are you doing here? I thought you were on a different ship?” Rachida beamed, obviously excited at the stranger who stood before them.
“Well you know me, I couldn’t stay away from you for too long, so was transferred onto this ship.” The charisma that oozed out of him led Aardriyah to believe that he must have more admirers than just Rachida.
“Ha, ha, very funny.” Rachida pushed past him in the doorway and made her way into what was revealed to be a small room of six beds with a desk and bookcase at the end. Sekher smiled at Aardriyah, before bowing slightly, motioning with his hands for her to enter.
“I’m here because we have a new healer on board. Master Keelie thought it might be useful to have a more experienced, highly distinguished practitioner show him around.”
Rachida turned to look at Sekher,
“And he chose you?” She said in mocking shock and horror.
“Only the best, my love.” Sekher bowed deeply, smiling the entire time at Rachida. “You haven’t introduced me to your lovely friend.” He continued.
“Well that’s why we’re here, actually.”
Sekher laughed,
“Hmmm, a bit hairier than my usual clients and could use a bath or two, but I suppose I can help.”
Aardriyah’s face suddenly turned a hue of bright red, avoiding the stare of the beautiful practitioner, she looked down at her feet. She felt stupid to think she would be treated any differently by the blessed aboard this ship, she should have known better by now. She would always be singled out, always be different and never be good enough for even the slightest
amount of their affection. Sekher moved towards her, trying to get her attention, he finally touched her softly on the shoulder and said,
“It was a joke, my love. Your dog is very friendly, but I am no healer of animals, just of humans.” As he bent down to scruff Kit’s fur, he gazed up at her.
“Now tell me, what has brought you here? Are you sick of her already? I don’t blame you but usually her roommates last at least a week, this is a new record I believe.” Rachida punched Sekher in the shoulder, making a horrid grimace at him.
“Oh have you grown? I didn’t think you could reach my shoulder.”
She punched him again, and once more in quick succession.
“What was that one for?”
“To remind you that being fire blessed isn’t my only skill!” She threatened before stalking to a chair, crossing her arms and abruptly placing herself upon it. Sekher continued to laugh and at least feigned some pain as he rubbed his shoulder.
“I apologise, the fire blessed do get a little hot headed you know.”
“Well actually, that’s why we’re here.” Aardriyah finally found the confidence to speak to the beautiful man standing before her. It had taken her a few moments to recover from the embarrassment.
“Rachida thinks I’m sick because my temperature is high.”
Gazing over her before placing a firm palm across her forehead, Sekher responded,
“Well little-miss-know-it-all over there, doesn’t always know it all. Do you have any other symptoms?”
“No, none.” Aardriyah shrugged.
Sekher moved towards the desk at the back of the room and grabbed a small, leather-bound notebook out from a drawer;
“What was your name again my love? I like to keep a record on anyone who visits just in case symptoms worsen.”
Aardriyah had to bite her tongue as she realised the name she had been using her whole life had been taken from her; almost taken from her.
