Ariella and the Blood Curse

by Owen Crane

  Ariella lay on her bed, the covers tucked up around her chin. She looked so

  young.

  Can she really be fifteen already?

  He closed the door and turned his back, returning to his motionless sentry

  duty. He stood waiting for the first light of dawn to break across the palace

  garden and shine through the corridor window.

  Chapter 2

  The Lightharbour Palace Library was the envy of the world. For centuries it

  had drawn scholars, philosophers, dreamers, treasure hunters and prophets.

  They came for the riches contained in the thousands of bound volumes and

  rolled scrolls. Hung on the walls were the first maps of Dawnhaven, drawn

  before the breaking, before the five kingdoms were formed.

  Recorded here were the great scientific discoveries, their tomes neatly filed.

  Experiments with flight, fire and steel. Every venture and misadventure

  recorded for all time, given equal place where the myths and legends of

  Dawnhaven. Tales of Darcian, first born of the unicorns, mighty and majestic.

  Songs of Kalasa, the great mountain chieftain that first tamed the Griffins of

  Khan.

  The library was a place of wonder and beauty for Ariella. Countless hours

  she had spent there whilst growing up in the palace. It was her escape, a

  chamber of peace and solitude, but most of all, a place of dreams. Somewhere

  she could live out the adventures she heard in the stories told by the sailors of

  Lightharbour. She would unleash her imagination in the library, as she read the

  ancient sagas. In her mind she would soar on the winds with the grace of the

  eagles. She dived from the falls of Elderod and charged the rapids down the

  Thunderrun. She scaled the vast ranges of the snow-capped Khan Mountains.

  By night, she fought off vicious Ghost Raiders as they sought to plunder the

  coasts of Dawnhaven. In the library, Ariella made her own choices and walked

  the path of her own choosing. In the library, she was free.

  It was in the library that she now waited. She was trying to be calm, acting

  as if she wasn"t nervous, trying to act as fearless as the palace guards. She was

  failing. She took a book down from the shelf. A random choice, she wasn"t even

  conscious of which area of the library she was standing in. She took the book to

  a nearby table and let the pages fall open.

  The chapter title stood out in bold print: “The Effects of Dragon Fire on Stone

  Walls”.

  Ariella smiled to herself as she spoke out loud. “It"s a pity the dragons died

  out. I"d much rather be facing a dragon today”

  “So would we!”

  Ariella jumped as the bookshelf next to her slid silently to the side. Behind it

  was a sloping passageway and the grinning faces of her younger twin brothers,

  Osias and Calixto.

  She glared at the two boys. “Mother is going to lose it with you two if she

  finds you skulking down the passageways again.”

  “I think our wonderful mother has other people in her sights today,”

  laughed Calixto.

  “You"re hilarious.” Ariella was not in the mood for her brother"s particular

  brand of humour.

  “It"ll be okay Ari.” Osias chipped in, “I"m pretty sure that she"s not going to

  lock you in the dungeon. Although I could"ve sworn I heard someone calling for

  the Jailor.”

  She threw the book she was reading across the room towards her brothers

  but the bookcase was already sliding back in place. The heavy tome thudded to

  the floor with a dull echo. The laughter from her brothers grew fainter as they

  withdrew down the hidden passage.

  The Palace of Lightharbour was riddled with these passages, some as old as

  the Palace itself. Ariella had heard many tales of what the passages were built

  and used for. The common stories were of escape tunnels if the Palace was

  besieged. Some of the sailors would sing songs of midnight rendezvous,

  unrequited love, tragedy and torment, all made possible by the tunnels.

  Some of the darker tales were of secrets and spies. There was even talk of

  assassinations. Long forgotten monarchs murdered in their beds by jealous

  Lords, children, brothers and even wives.

  Ariella shuddered. Tales of dark deeds always made her uncomfortable

  when she was alone in the library. She had always felt it was a place of such

  beauty and wonder that stories of evil didn"t belong inside its inspiring walls.

  She smiled again at her own naivety as she let her gaze drift across the

  vastness of the library. The vaulted ceiling was a spectacular criss-cross of

  frescoes painted by the finest artists in Dawnhaven. They told the stories of the

  island’s history, its legends, the heroic victories and bitter failings. Above her

  was a particularly vivid image of a blood red dragon spewing flames against a

  castle wall. She remembered the book that she had hurled at her brothers,

  retrieved it and bought it back to the table.

  It was bound in soft leather, dyed the same blood red as the dragon in the

  ceiling"s fresco. In elaborate gold script, it"s title read, “Dragon Breath: A

  comprehensive study of the effect of dragon breath by Theodore Vangaland”.

  Sounds like the type of book the twins would’ve loved to write. Those two would

  quite happily stroll up to a dragon and ask him to breathe on various objects while they recorded it. ‘Sir Dragon, would you be so kind as to breathe fiery death on this haystack so I can observe the results?’ Yes, that sounds exactly like my brothers.

  The twins, Osias and Calixto, thunder and lightning, chaos given human

  form, twice. As much as she hated to admit it, she knew she would miss them.

  They brought light and colour, mixed with a good dose of disaster, wherever

  they went. There had been many times over the last eight years when Ariella

  had needed light and colour in her life.

  She slipped her hands into the pockets of her trousers and drew her

  shoulders in close as the pain of the memories washed over her again. It was not

  the sharp pain of years ago, but a dull ache. Hakeem had told her that that pain

  too would pass, in time. As she thought of Hakeem, the fingers in each of her

  pockets closed around the two spheres. Each was no bigger than a glass marble

  that the children played with in the streets of Lightharbour.

  Echo Orbs.

  A gift from Hakeem, eight years ago. He gave them to her here, in the

  library. He knew she would be there after she had heard the news. The news

  that changed Ariella forever. The news that her father was dead. She didn"t

  believe it as first. How could he be dead? He was so strong, so brave, so

  adventurous. He was the ruler of Lightharbour, wise and fierce. How could he

  be gone?

  Hakeem had found her in the far corner of the library, behind an old

  tapestry, curled up on the floor. She had been there for hours, weeping. Ariella

  remembered Hakeem"s strength as he lifted her and carried her to one of the

  library"s soft, cushioned benches. She remembered not letting go of his neck as

  she buried her head in the silk of his robes.

  She could scarcely believe that was eight years ago. She spun the orbs

  through her fingers, still deep in her pockets. So much has changed and yet, so

  little.


  A sharp, tap, tap broke Ariella’s thoughts. The noise came from one of the

  high windows in the library wall.

  Tap, tap, tap.

  Ariella narrowed her gaze on the window trying to find the source of the

  noise. At first glance it appeared the window contained nothing but the clear

  blue of the mid summer sky. Then there was a slight ripple of movement.

  Tap, tap, tap.

  The head of a tiny gargoyle peered over the edge of the window frame and

  locked eyes with Ariella. He was about the size of a pigeon, formed from the

  white stone that made up the majority of the buildings in Lightharbour. His face

  was carved into a hideous grin, with small, fox like ears sticking upright from his

  bald head. The gargoyle leaned his head against the glass staring its stony eyes

  at Ariella. He lifted up his right hand and in it he held a small bag made of rich

  blue velvet.

  “Hakeem!” Cried Ariella, recognising the tiny velvet bag.

  She rushed over to the lower window beneath the window the gargoyle was

  perched on, threw it open and leaned out. The tiny gargoyle scampered down

  the sheer wall of the library like a gecko, his fingers holding tight to the stone

  wall. He dropped onto the windowsill beside her and held out the velvet bag.

  Ariella took it and untied the fine gold lace that had secured the top. As soon as

  the bag was loose the rich aromas spilled out, and Ariella took a long, deep

  breath.

  “Chocolate” she whispered.

  She leaned forward and gave the tiny gargoyle a kiss on his cold white head.

  “Go and pass that on to Hakeem for me.”

  The Gargoyle tilted his head to the side, nodded, then turned on his forked

  tail and was gone, skipping, jumping and climbing over the rooftops. Ariella

  lost sight of him somewhere between the dome of the spice market and the spires

  of Archibald"s Emporium of Exotic Animals.

  It always amazed her how Hakeem could get the gargoyles to run errands

  for him. She didn’t know anyone else in Lightharbour that could get the

  gargoyles to do that. She lifted out a piece of the chocolate. It was dark and

  silky, with small chunks of almonds buried throughout. Even on a day like

  today, the chocolate made her forget everything, just for a moment. She reached

  in for a second piece but her fingers found a small roll of parchment bound with

  red silk. Her nimble fingers quickly untied the silk and unrolled the scroll. In

  the wonderful calligraphy with which Hakeem so fluently wrote, was a simple

  message.

  “Be gracious with her.”

  Ariella"s head dropped. Today"s events came flooding back into her mind

  and she sighed. This was not going to be an easy few hours. She looked out of

  the window over the great city state of Lightharbour. The white stone of the

  buildings shone in the bright sunlight.

  “How long will it be until I"m back here?” She wondered.

  On the far side of the Library she heard the great doors swing open and the

  soft, steady footsteps of someone walking with purpose.

  “Okay, I guess I should get this over with,” she said to herself.

  Ariella took one last glance over the city, the place of her birth and her home.

  She turned and walked to meet the footsteps.

  The two ladies stood and faced each other in the silence of the library.

  Ariella was tall for her age, slender but strong. Her rich, chocolate brown hair

  fell down past her shoulders. She tried to make herself taller than she was, her

  shoulders pushed back and her chin lifted up.

  The silence continued. The seconds turned to minutes as the two held each

  other"s gaze. Ariella was willing her emerald green eyes not to blink first.

  Normally, in situations such as this, she would come out the victor. She had a

  stubborn, competitive streak that had seldom seen her buckle. Most people

  would blink first and avert their eyes.

  Most people, but not the lady before her. Queen Susanna, Lady of

  Lightharbour, House of the Eagle. She looked away from no one. Ariella

  dropped her eyes and shifted her feet. In a moment she had gone from a proud,

  strong, stubborn, young woman, to a child, insecure and nervous. There was no

  one on the whole of Dawnhaven, no distant foreigner on any ship that had sailed

  into harbour, no Knight in the palace guard, that could make her feel that way.

  No one, except her mother.

  “Ariella,” she began.

  Ariella blinked. She recognised the tone her mother had used. It was soft

  and calm. She had been in court and heard her mother use that tone. She

  reserved it for, „special" circumstances. Once a visiting dignitary had, foolishly,

  assumed he could take advantage of the Queen in a trade deal. Ariella had seen

  her disarm and humiliate some of the wealthiest merchants in Lightharbour with

  that voice. On one occasion she had to put the Captain of the Palace guard in his

  place. He asserted that women should not be involved with matters of defence.

  That was a mistake. There is now a new Captain of the guard.

  Ariella half lifted her head and tried to look into her mother"s eyes. The

  same emerald green that she had inherited, and her mother had inherited from

  Ariella"s grandmother, Queen Lucia, the last queen of Dawnhaven. Her mother"s

  face was calm, set, and unreadable.

  “Well?” asked the Queen.

  Numerous answers to that question came into Ariella"s mind. None of them

  were helpful. Thankfully, she had learnt, the hard way, that sarcasm was not the

  best way to respond to her mother. Unfortunately for Ariella, she had no idea

  how to begin answering the question.

  She started slowly, “I thought the announcement went rather well.”

  “Really?” answered the Queen, her voice moving dangerously away from

  soft to icy. “You think it went „rather well"?”

  “Um, well, it was, nice, the banners looked nice and I thought, the-

  “You thought?” The Queen interrupted, “please tell me, what exactly did

  you think?”

  What did you think I was trying to do?

  But then as she started to answer she realised she had nothing to say that

  would help her situation.

  “Did you perhaps think that maybe it would have been considerate to

  include me in your plans? Do you think that I may have a different perspective

  that may have benefited you in this process? Do you think that maybe bringing

  me in on your little secret before today might have been considered a good

  idea?”

  The Queen"s voice was starting to rise now. She was losing some of the

  control of before in her anger. Ariella started to shrink back.

  “How could you possibly have thought that this would go well?” The Queen

  was shouting now. “You"ve made a fool of me, yourself, Lightharbour and the

  Guardians.”

  “The Guardians don"t think they"ve been made a fool of!” She shocked

  herself at her emotion as she answered her mother. “They think it"s excellent,

  they chose me, they want me!”

  “Well they can"t have you!” The Queen took a step forward as she spoke, her

  eyes flashing dangerously.

  “Why not?” yelled Ariella. She took a step towards her mother, her jaw

  tight. Her hands flew
out of her pockets, fists clenched. She had never spoken to

  her like this before.

  “You are the Princess of Lightharbour, heir to the throne, you cannot go

  running off on adventures! Your city needs you here, you people need you

  here!”

  For a moment Ariella lost control. Even as the words left her lips she

  regretted them.

  “Grandmother would"ve let me go!”

  The effect was instant. The Queen flinched like she had been struck. The

  intensity of the pain in her eyes took Ariella"s breath away.

  “I"m…I"m sorry, I"m sorry” she stammered.

  For a moment the Queen stared at her eldest child, the pain of searing loss

  still visible in those piercing green eyes.

  “You know nothing. You have no comprehension of what your

  Grandmother would want. You think of no one but yourself. You are a selfish

  child. You are not leaving tomorrow. You are not joining the Guardians. You

  duty is to the throne, to Lightharbour and to me.”

  Her words hung in the chamber of the library and seemed to settle around

  Ariella like dust. She spoke quietly. Softly. Afterwards she realised, for the first time in her life, she used the same tone as her mother.

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “No. I am leaving tomorrow, I am joining the Guardians and there is

  nothing you can do to stop me except lock me in the dungeons.”

  At that, Ariella strode out of the room more confident and assured than ever.

  The great doors of the library closed behind her, and she ran.

  She ran as fast as she could. She flew down the corridors of the palace,

  bursting through doors, past servants and Knights, many calling out

  „congratulations your highness!” as she flew by. Up flights of stairs, she ran,

  around corners, through doors. She didn"t stop until she was opposite a slim,

  oak door. It led into a small, curved corridor on the far western tower, high up

  in the palace. She glanced over her shoulder and listened, trying to steady her

  heavy breathing from her sprint. There was silence. She pushed open the door

  and looked inside. As usual, the corridor was empty. With a final glance around

  her, she stepped through the oak door and closed it silently behind her.

  The light from the windows was soft and warm. Specks of dust fell through

  the shafts of light. Ariella breathed deeply and raised her hands to the white