Reign of Darkness

by Michaela Riley Karr

  “Allyens have done this hundreds of times. You can do it,” Rachel answered unhelpfully.

  My eyes scanned the audience desperately. Sam, Sabine, Frederick, Xavier…none of them were to be found. The beat of the drum echoed the sound of my pounding heart in my ears.

  When I looked down the aisle to the other end, I noticed that one of the people on the stage had started jogging my way. I recognized Evan as he grew closer, and he was huffing slightly when he finally reached me. He was dressed in an elaborate tunic made out of the same silvery material as my dress with leather trousers and a braided belt. His Allyen eyes seemed heavy as he held my gaze, and he repeated our father’s words, “Do as I do.”

  A lump rose in my throat, and I mirrored Evan as he reached to the top of my torch with one hand. He closed his eyes, and I did the same, thinking of my magic to draw it forth.

  Evan muttered again, “Concentrate your power. So bright that it’s hot.”

  I did as I was told, focusing everything I had on the rough little wick between mine and Evan’s fingers. I had never used my magic constantly for this long, and the usual warmth that I felt soon grew warmer and warmer until my fingers felt like they had been severely sunburned. I opened my eyes, afraid of truly being burned, and the wick was smoking a little bit. After only seconds more, Evan executed a rapid twist of his fingers, and fire burst to life.

  As soon as the torch ignited, the humming and drumming ceased. Evan remained by my side as the Ranguvariians began to sing long, choral sounds echoing throughout the Dome in harmony. Rachel gave me a little shove toward the pile of tree limbs and logs, and then started to sing and translate for the sake of us humans, “Uny calou, etne clarii, uny calou. Well done, my soldier, well done.”

  I approached the pyre hesitantly, but I froze in my tracks when I saw what it was for. Stretched out upon it was Luke’s long, lean body, which had been re-wrapped in a clean, orange linen blanket with gold decorations.

  “Anoet’v vas naeran dii ntae nten, etne clarii. You vowed you would die for us,” Rachel continued to sing.

  I gulped hard and looked to Evan in a panic. Why were they making me do this? I couldn’t do this!

  Evan scurried over to me and walked me closer to the pyre. He whispered, “You’re the one he died for. It’s part of their ceremony, you have to be the one to do it, or you’ll disgrace his memory.”

  “Aiin’v ran, nten. Ba eht raniin iiba Alyen. Iiba C’calou chaldnii. You gave your life song. So the Allyen may live. The greatest sacrifice.”

  The chorus of Ranguvariians, the beating drum, and Rachel’s chanting all faded into the background. It was silent in my head as I stared at Luke for the last time. I wanted to keep looking. I couldn’t tear my gaze away. This couldn’t be the last time I’d see his long, pale, freckled face.

  But it was already over. I would never see his rare smile again. I would never see his eyes flick through the colors of the rainbow again. I would never be scared out of my wits as he plucked me off the ground and flew me around again. All I had left were the memories and the fierce resolve that Rhydin would never get away with this.

  With that notion powering every fiber of my body, I leaned the torch forward to ignite the pyre.

  “Eht anet iivan dii jaenou, eten shnetran. May your blade remain sharp for eternity,” Rachel finished the traditional words solemnly.

  The Ranguvariians’ song ended on a high note, and the drum ceased once again. Everyone along the aisle watched the fire for several moments in complete silence as it spread through the pile of logs. Smoke began to rise toward the top of the Dome where there must have been a small opening for it to exit and air to enter.

  After a few minutes, just as the fire was about to reach Luke, Rachel held out her hand for the torch, and I gave it to her. She announced in a loud, clear voice, “One chapter has come to an end. It is time for a new one to begin.”

  Immediately, every head in the audience shifted from our end of the aisle to the stage on the opposite side. I could make out three vague shapes down there, but it was too far and the air too smoky to really tell what they were. Rachel lifted the torch and then struck the ground with it loudly. The Ranguvariian drummer struck up another beat, this one a much more traditional, Gornish cadence rather than the tribal heartbeat of the funeral.

  Rachel and Evan both started walking at a brisk pace down the aisle toward the other end, and I had to jog a few strides to catch up with them. The people all followed us with their wide, star-struck eyes, but their silence unnerved me. There was no chattering, whispering, or even fidgeting. Everyone stood stock-still, in awe of everything transpiring in front of them. A Ranguvariian funeral was certainly a rare and moving event, so I couldn’t help but wonder what the second ceremony entailed.

  As we approached, I realized that the three shapes on the stage were chairs. Like rickety, kitchen chairs. Why were there three sad-looking chairs on a stage?

  Rachel slowed and came to a stop, planting her torch in the ground once again. Evan and I halted beside her, and my nerves finally began to relax when I spotted Sam walking forward out of the crowd. He was in much nicer clothes as well: a navy, satin tunic with a purple sash embellished with gold overtop his nicest trousers. As always, he wore his Kidek bandana proudly tied around his head.

  Several audience members smiled and silently cheered by raising their arms over their heads. Rounan marks were upon each of them. Perhaps, we had gotten through to more of the Rounans whose compounds we’d visited than I’d thought. Sam winked at me and mounted the stairs on the east side of the stage. However, he didn’t approach any of the three chairs and remained standing off to the side.

  Likewise, on the west side of the stage, Clariion Arii himself strode to take a position symmetrical to Sam’s, bedecked in a similar outfit to Rachel’s. He clutched a silver staff embedded with amber beads, and his centuries-old eyes glowed pink as he beamed at Rachel, his successor.

  “Heirs of Nerahdis, come forward,” Rachel announced loudly.

  Frederick, Xavier, and Sabine suddenly came forward from the back center of the stage, and each of them trod confidently toward one of the three kitchen chairs. They remained standing solemnly as their families quietly appeared behind them.

  Xavier brooded uncertainly as Mira and Taisyn, their small, blind son, came to stand by his chair. Sabine seemed so strong she could slash someone’s throat just by looking at them while her two small boys, orphans of the war, fidgeted by her chair.

  Dominick clung to Princess Cornflower’s skirts behind his father’s chair, terrified even with his aunt. Frederick looked like he was bearing the weight of the world on his shoulders, his blond hair so thin I could pretty much see his scalp.

  This was new, as far as what I knew about Nerahdian coronations. The Three Kings were always presented as fierce, lone monarchs who were god-like. Not human beings who had families just like everyone else.

  Then again, there was a lot about what was going on right now that certainly was not traditional. Like having a half-human, half-Ranguvariian woman running the show.

  “Prince Xavier Rollins,” Rachel began, “do you so swear to lead, serve, and protect the people of the Kingdom of Mineraltir, to the best of your ability, until your final breath?”

  Xavier took a deep breath, the magnitude of the situation weighing upon him, as I could only imagine what memory of his father he was thinking about as he declared, “I so swear.”

  Rachel continued, “Lady Sabine Cedal, do you swear to lead, serve, and protect the people of the Kingdom of Auklia, to the best of your ability, until your final breath?”

  “I so swear,” Sabine answered passionately, a grin toying at the edges of her mouth.

  “Prince Frederick Tané, do you so swear to lead, serve, and protect the people of the Kingdom of Lunaka, to the best of your ability, until your final breath?” Rachel asked, finally smiling herself.

  Frederick answered confidently, and I knew how much he was looking forw
ard to putting right everything King Adam had done, “I so swear.”

  James jogged out of the crowd toward his sister with an ornate, wooden box. There were tearstains on his cheeks, and my throat swelled once again at the thought of Luke’s absence. He should have been here for this. James opened the box in front of the three of us, and upon burnt orange velvet were three very plain, silver crowns that I’d never seen before. They were likely the best the Ranguvariians could come up with due to our limited resources in the Dome, but they were still beautiful in a simple way.

  Evan took the middle crown, one that looked like a single, gleaming wave, and Rachel took the one on the left, which was straighter with shining leaves springing from it.

  When I looked at her funny, she responded in a whisper, “What? My grandmother was Mineraltin, remember?”

  It was then that I understood. Rachel would crown Xavier, Evan would crown Sabine as someone who grew up in Auklia, and the final crown on the right was mine to give. It was to be Frederick’s, and it looked like a chain of sparkling wheat heads.

  My breathing became erratic when I gingerly touched it with just enough fingertips to lift it from its orange bed. It felt very strange to be holding a crown. A plain, farm girl like me had never even touched one of these in all of time, much less been the one to place it on a prince’s head to make him king.

  Evan and I trailed after Rachel toward the stage and up the creaking, haphazard steps. As Rachel began the traditional words of the monarch vows, with a few tweaks to allow for more freedom and less fear, I numbly stepped in front of Frederick, still holding the crown out from my body like it was a poison-dipped dagger.

  Frederick smiled sadly, and I could see the whirlpool of anxiety in his blue eyes. He murmured, “I’m sorry for blaming you for my mother’s death. It wasn’t your fault.”

  “It’s okay,” I replied nonchalantly. “Trust me, I get it. You were grieving.”

  Frederick nodded almost imperceptibly as he stared at the crowd over my shoulder. He was a great big ball of nerves, and I’d never seen him like this before. He whispered, “I’ve thought about this day a thousand times since I was a boy. I never once dreamed it would play out like this.”

  “Believe me,” I chuckled, “neither did I.”

  “It seems right for you to do it though,” Frederick said quietly, his expression warming. “After all, it was you who made me realize I wanted to be king as a boy, instead of running away from my father.”

  I smiled as the memory came to me. Frederick had told me this story while we were marooned in the basement of Luke’s livery. He had run away as a child and I had unknowingly told him that he could right all his father’s wrongs if he became king. My fingers became surer and steadier on the silver wheat crown as I answered, “It is my honor.”

  When Rachel came to the end of the words, Frederick knelt before me and bowed his golden head, which sent goosebumps up my arms. I slid the crown over his temples, and he smiled at me as he stood once more as Rachel crowned Xavier and Evan crowned Sabine.

  Rachel declared happily, “We now dub thee King Xavier of Mineraltir, Queen Sabine of Auklia, and King Frederick of Lunaka! Long live the Three Kings and Queen!”

  “Long live the Three Kings and Queen!” the crowd roared all around us as Xavier, Sabine, and Frederick sat upon their bare, wooden chairs, surrounded by their families.

  Sam and Arii remained off to their respective sides, having done nothing but clapping. It made sense now. They symbolized the Rounans’ and Ranguvariians’ support of the new monarchs. While they had done nothing but stand there, their doing so spoke volumes as to how we would all move forward.

  As I looked out to the cheering people, the few hundred rebels who had joined us against Rhydin underground in the Dome, I realized that the warmth bubbling up in my chest was none other than hope. Hope that destroying Rhydin was closer than ever before, that it was actually within our grasp. For the first time, our battle was now public, and we were gaining more help every day. Out there, Gornish, Rounan, and Ranguvariian stood together.

  This event was a glimpse of the future. A future where instead of basic chairs underground, Frederick and the others sat upon their rightful thrones in the castles of their ancestors. A bright future free of Rhydin and the oppression and prejudices of the kings of old.

  It might not happen tomorrow, but it was coming. I could feel it in my bones.

  The days of Rhydin’s reign of darkness were numbered.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Middle Autumn 24th, Year 1 of King Frederick’s Reign (Year 3 of Rhydin’s Reign of Darkness),

  Today, Evan and I laid our father to rest. We waited a few days after Luke’s funeral and the coronation ceremony out of respect, but this event was secret. Most people probably wouldn’t understand. Heck, I wouldn’t have understood my own presence here this time last year. So much has changed.

  We buried him just outside the Dome where the open grasses of Caden’s Plain kiss the foot of the mountains surrounding Lunaka. Sam and Cayce, who recently joined us from Caark now that her and Evan’s son is old enough to be without her, were the only other people there. While I miss Robert and am eternally grateful for his decision to save me, Evan seems to be mourning more than I am. I had gotten to know Robert a little bit there at the end, but Evan never got the chance. He keeps asking me about him. I hope someday he will feel at peace.

  The only thing we have of him is the third piece of the locket that he created from my half, which we’ve decided to hide away so that even if we are captured, Rhydin won’t have all three pieces. If Rhydin can only be destroyed by three Allyens performing the Alytniinaeran spell (as the Ranguvariians are now calling it – “All-yuh-tnee-nigh-rahn,” “death by three lights”) – our only choice now is to wait for when Rayna is older.

  It makes sense now why Archimage Dathian saw the destruction of Nerahdis when it appeared that no future Allyen would be born to us back during the war. We would be lost without her now, unable to ever perform Alytniinaeran, even if we must wait until she is old enough to wield the magic she has been given. To Cassandra, for giving us her and Frederick’s daughter on her death bed, we must be eternally grateful.

  Even though we must wait to destroy Rhydin for good, our rebellion has by no means been idle! Our civil war is nearly in full swing as we work to undermine Rhydin in smaller scuffles and reconnaissance to gain as many resources and people as we can while we wait. As the rumors and news of Rhydin’s slaughtering the Royals and his possessing magic spread from coast to coast, more people seem to find their way to us all the time, whether they join us in the Dome because they fear for their lives or serve as spies afar. After wondering for so long if our rebellion would ever even get off the ground, it’s thrilling to watch it grow.

  The Dome has become a haven for everyone. Gornish, Rounan, Mineraltin, Auklian, Lunakan, Ranguvariian – every type of person is represented down here in a way that is totally unprecedented. It makes me hope that the Nerahdis we’re working to build will be a much more cohesive place than how it’s been for my whole life.

  To that end, we’ve created a new council to spearhead our efforts to adjust the existing monarchies to be more open. It consists of Frederick, Xavier, Sabine, Sam, Evan, me, and James, who sits in as his grandfather’s ambassador. It is our hope that one day, we’ll have someone from the Aatarilecs as well to represent the immense help they have already given us. For now, I am just thrilled that Frederick and Xavier have buried the hatchet. Sabine seems to be exactly the cog that was missing to keep the boys from working together.

  Not only is the Dome diverse and unified, but we’re protected from Rhydin down here. Rhydin may have cracked most of the Ranguvariians’ magic from his capture of Luke, like how to sense individual feather charms, but the Ranguvariians were able to make something work. The cluster of crystals at the very top of the Dome weren’t crystals at all, but hundreds if not thousands of Ranguvariian feathers magically sealed togeth
er. Sheer number restored their power of invisibility, and so the large, aquamarine fixture keeps our rebellion not only undetectable, but aglow with the light of their magic. Now, whenever I see a Ranguvariian whose wings are riddled with holes where feathers were taken to build the crystals, small parts of their power gone, I can only imagine the magnitude of that sacrifice. Apparently, Ranguvariian power does not rejuvenate like Gornish magic does, even when given willingly and not stolen.

  The Dome may be safe at the moment, but Rachel still doesn’t want the lock and key to be housed in the same underground cavern. Therefore, our children, Kylar and Rayna, and Evan’s son, Aron, will remain in Caark. When Rachel returned to Caark with Chelsea to rejoin Jaspen, she promised me that once we were more certain the Dome was truly safe and that Rhydin wouldn’t engineer a way to sense more feathers, she would bring our children to live here with us. Sam and I are truly hoping this will only take a year or two tops, but until then, Rachel and Jaspen will try to give our kids as normal of a childhood as possible. We busy ourselves with leading recon missions – as well as studying the book I found in the Archimage Palace, the magic that preserves it, and the strange presence that led me to it – so that time will pass quickly.

  Thus, I will continue to spend my days stealing from Rhydin and giving to the poor, whether they oppose him or not, until Rayna is old enough to help Evan and I destroy him. Rhydin’s iron grip around Nerahdis’s throat grows tighter with every passing week, so bringing food and supplies to people cut off from them either directly or indirectly by Rhydin has become another way to try and change people’s opinions of the new, underground kings and queen. All these years, it was Rhydin who had the advantage of working in secret, and now the tables have turned. Down here, we can build our strength while Rhydin has no idea what’s coming.

  Our war isn’t over. It may take a few years, but we’ve got the spark now. Once that day comes, this spark will be a blazing fire that nothing and no one can stop from burning Rhydin’s imperial palace to the ground.