Heartrender, page 11
“The Elders are the protectors of each realm. There is one Elder per realm,” Lyle explained, surveying the hall. “Eman was the Elder for Ramni.”
“So, why don’t we like them?” I asked, noting Romen’s increased broodiness.
Romen crossed his arms, a scowl curling his lips. “Because the Elders didn’t heed Eman’s warnings about Ophidian. They’re the reason why Ophidian is taking over Decim.”
CHAPTER 13
SILAS
A warm breeze brushed across Silas’s skin as soft blades of grass pricked his palms. He sat up in a rush, surrounded by gigantic trees the size of small mountains. Standing, he craned his neck, surveying staircases that were carved into the trunks. Way up in the sky, an entire city hovered above him, suspended in the branches. Silas took a step back, nostalgia rushing over him. This looked exactly like the window of Lignum back in Ramni.
Vibrations of hurried steps rumbled beneath his feet. Within seconds, a pack of children flew by.
“Whoa,” Silas said, steadying himself against the chittering horde.
His orange cloak whooshed as a small, rotund boy elbowed him in the thigh. Then a towering girl smashed Silas’s foot. Silas grunted, trying to flee the excited group of children. A small throb pulsed in his leg. Hadn’t they seen him well enough to not run into him?
Shaking his head, Silas followed the children as they rushed toward a large pond filled with sparkling water. Children were always so free. If only he was that lucky.
“Come on, Silas!” a member of the pack yelled back at him.
Silas spun around, confused. In a few moments, a single pair of footsteps crunched the grass from behind him.
“I’m coming,” a high-pitched voice called. A small boy with golden hair huffed his way through the trees. Though he looked exhausted, a familiar crooked grin filled his face.
Silas stared. That was him. How was this possible?
Young Silas ran through the children and jumped into the diamond-clear water headfirst. Although he was further from the pool, a cool wave of water immediately doused Silas. The orange cloak clung to his body as Silas stared at his dripping hands. Was his current self connected to his memory? Was he actually in his past? His mind spun through his next thoughts. If he were, could he change it?
But as he tried to gain the attention of his younger self, the children carried on, not once acknowledging him. Silas frowned, the small hope that had bloomed faded.
The other children erupted into cheers and cackles as the small blond head resurfaced. Teeth chattering, Young Silas wrapped his arms around his stomach.
Silas felt the piercing chill of the water and rubbed his arms, wishing the orange cloak wasn’t sopping wet.
“You should’ve waited a little longer,” one of the older boys with sandy-blond hair and a shorter stature guffawed.
Silas’s ears twitched. Was that Brand?
“I’m fine,” Young Silas chattered with a shiver.
Brand chuckled before the branches above the pond opened. Beams of warm sunlight radiated on the chilly water. Sighing with delight, Young Silas unwrapped his arms, and floated on his back. On the shore, the heat instantly vanquished the chill in Silas’s soaked limbs.
The rest of the children dove into the water, splashing one another and laughing without a care in the world.
Young Silas laughed as Brand swam over, picked him up, and threw him into a deeper section of the pond.
Silas squeezed his eyes shut as another wave of water soaked him through. He quickly shook the droplets from his hair and watched the rest of his memory.
“You need to be careful with him,” a thin boy chided Brand.
Silas swiped his drenched hair from his eyes to see the thin boy. He seemed to be the oldest of the group.
“I’m fine, Gaius,” Young Silas said after he broke through the surface. He laughed wildly as he jumped on Brand’s back. Brand easily plucked him off and chucked the boy back in the water.
“Gaius,” Silas whispered in wonder.
He knew the two brothers had felt familiar to him when he met them in Ratcha.
“Yeah, Gaius,” Brand said, tickling Young Silas until tears streamed from his eyes in laughter. Silas bit his lip to prevent the laughter waiting to bubble from his own lips. “He said he’s fine. Don’t be such a stick-in-the-mud.”
“Brand,” Gaius scolded, adjusting his white tunic. “Silas is our prince. We need to take care of him. The queen would be horrified to find him in this state.” Gaius pointed at Young Silas shooting water from his mouth like a fountain.
“Aunt Para won’t mind,” Brand said before launching Young Silas again with a spectacular splash. “We can’t allow Silas to live under a rock. He needs to enjoy his life and have fun. Plus, we both know I’m the queen’s favorite.” Brand reared back and kicked his legs, sending a swell of water toward Gaius.
Gasping, Gaius dodged out of the way before fixing his hair. “That was very childish, Brand.”
But Brand had already dove under the water. With a huff, Gaius spun away from the group of rambunctious children to brood on a nearby rock.
Silas sat near the edge of the pond, watching his young self enjoy the sunshine and friends. Young Silas looked happy and healthy; where had everything gone wrong?
“Silas,” a female voice sang.
Silas and Young Silas both turned to see a young Dacenda leaning against a tree. She looked older than Young Silas, but younger than Gaius. Her long, blonde hair shimmered in the sunlight as she skipped over to the pond of children. One by one, they ceased their playing and shrank back.
The chill from earlier returned, creeping across Silas’s still drying skin. After he had just forgotten Dacenda, she was back again. He jumped up, ready to flee. What was she doing here?
“Oh, hi, Dacenda,” Young Silas said hesitantly, wading back toward Brand.
Gaius jolted up from the rock, his eyes boring into the young girl.
“How are you today, little king?” Dacenda said with a smile, stalking closer.
“I’m good,” Young Silas replied, nervously tapping his hands against the surface of the water. Tiny ripples fled from his fingertips. “I’m not king.”
She grinned wider. “Well, not yet.”
“What do you want, Dacenda?” Gaius asked. He scurried from the rock and lifted his chin, blocking the girl from the future king.
“I was merely asking how the little king was,” she said, too innocently, blinking up at Gaius with doe eyes.
“We all know that’s not true,” Brand said, pushing a cowering Young Silas behind him.
A stream of memories flooded Silas’s mind. Dacenda following him around the courtyard, trying to get him to notice her. Dacenda leaving bags of treats by his doorstep with a note of where to meet her later. Did Dacenda actually care for him? Silas shook his head, focusing on the vindictive smirk on the young girl’s face.
“Silas and I will be together,” Dacenda stated. “I will become the Bellata. You won’t stop me.”
A shiver ran over Silas’s flesh as he now understood why Dacenda hated Addie so much.
“As long as I’m around, you won’t get anywhere near him,” Brand countered, his hands crossed firmly across his chest. Droplets of water streamed down his forehead and cheeks, but his eyes didn’t waver from Dacenda.
“Silas,” a regal, feminine voice said.
Dacenda darted back into the trees as the children in the pond turned and gasped, bending their necks forward until their foreheads reached the water.
“My queen,” Gaius said, hastily kneeling to the ground.
“Hi, Aunt Para,” Brand said, wriggling his fingers with a grin.
The mature woman stood with a soft smile on her face; long, dark curls cascaded down her back. A pale purple dress wove around her body, twinkling as she moved.
“The queen,” Silas whispered as he stared at the elegant woman. “Mother.”
“Silas,” the queen said again, causing the young boy to shrink into the water. “It’s time to go.”
“Come on,” Brand said, hoisting the young boy up by the arms and carrying him out of the pond.
Young Silas sighed as he shuffled to shore. “Do I have to go now?”
The queen smiled, holding out a hand. “Yes, today is a special occasion.”
Young Silas huffed before taking her hand. “Bye, everyone.”
The group shouted their goodbyes before the queen glanced over her shoulder.
“Gaius, Brand, I don’t think your mother will be very happy if you’re late.”
“Of course,” Gaius said, scrambling to stand from his crouched position. “Come along, Brand. It’s going to take a lot of work to make you presentable.”
Brand let out an exaggerated groan before stomping along the shore.
Young Silas padded toward a staircase spiraling up the trees while grasping the queen’s hand tightly.
Silas peered over his shoulder. Where had Dacenda gone? It was probably good she had left. Shrugging, Silas jumped up and followed his memories.
Young Silas and the queen continued up the wooden stairs until they opened into a large area filled with burbling fountains and verdant gardens.
But the unique fruits growing on the rows of trees weren’t what caught Silas’s eye. No, it was the large castle carved directly into the bark of a giant tree. An eruption of squeaky laughter tore his gaze from the masterpiece, and Silas turned to find a small, spiked creature scurrying up young Silas’s leg to his shoulder.
Silas felt the small pricks of its claws running along his own skin.
“Shile, hey, stop,” Young Silas giggled as the small creature licked his face.
“Shile,” the queen scolded, trying to keep her face stern.
“Apologies, my lady.” The spined creature in a red vest bowed before darting away.
“Come, Silas, we must get you ready.”
The memory immediately shifted from the outer gardens to a spacious room. Young Silas sat on a large bed, kicking his feet as he blew his hair out of his face. His swimming clothes were gone, replaced with a regal outfit consisting of too many frills for a young boy.
“What’s the matter, my love?” the queen asked from the adjacent room.
Young Silas tugged at the fabric around his neck. “I don’t like this.”
The material scratched Young Silas’s neck, and Silas fully agreed with his younger self.
The queen laughed and entered the bedroom, her lilac gown twinkling as she gently tickled the boy’s stomach. “I know it’s not your favorite.” She tweaked a ruffle on his arm, causing Young Silas to giggle. “But every future king must look his best on his Binding Ceremony.”
Silas grew somber.
“When I’m king, no one will have to wear itchy clothes for their Binding Ceremony,” Young Silas replied.
The queen laughed again, rising from her position. “I’m sure there will be many future kings who will thank you for that.”
The boy began to speak once more, when a bloodcurdling cry bellowed from the room next door.
“Para!” a man’s voice boomed through the castle. “Save Silas!”
Terror froze the queen’s face before she scooped the young boy in her arms and raced out of the room. Young Silas wrapped his legs around his mother’s waist, burrowing his face into her neck. The queen rushed down the hallway, the fabric of her elegant gown trailing behind her.
A large crash rattled through the castle. Chunks of the beautiful wood snapped, shattering as they hit the ground. Twigs scratched Young Silas’s cheeks, but he held on tight, clutching his mother’s neck.
Shards of cedar and marble rammed into Silas as he ran alongside his mother, cutting and breaking his flesh. Blood seeped from his fresh wounds, but he didn’t stop.
A monstrous black beast ripped through the ceiling, streaming black smoke from its jaws as a man with a large sword squirmed in its claw.
“Run, Para!” the man with shining blond hair yelled. “Run!”
“Papan!” Young Silas screamed.
Silas spun around, horror squeezing his throat. Alone, his father fought the Beast invading their home. But Papan’s blade did nothing to hinder the creature’s attack. Silas clenched his hands into fists. The monster’s glowing yellow eyes told him all he needed to know.
“Don’t look, Silas,” the queen warned, placing a hand on Young Silas’s head. Silas felt the warmth of his mother’s touch. “Don’t look.” The young child obeyed.
The memory started to fade as Silas’s mother rushed to another room, a door of swirling lights facing them. Crashes and cries filled every crevice of the space as his younger self clutched the queen’s skirt. Silas heaved, trying to catch up to them. Sweat dripped into his eyes as his limbs weakened from their wounds.
“But Mamman, I don’t want to go,” Young Silas cried.
The queen crouched down and hugged him tight before wiping the tears from his wide eyes. “You must, my love. But remember—” She kissed her hand and placed it on Young Silas’s small chest. “I will always be right here.”
Tears tumbled down Silas’s cheeks, the pain in his body momentarily receding. He placed his hand on his heart, feeling his mother’s love braid with Addie’s and Eman’s.
Why couldn’t he do something to change this? Why couldn’t he save them?
After one last hug, the queen threw Young Silas into the swirling lights.
Silas tried to memorize every feature of his mother before he was swallowed into the light as well.
The white light faded around him, revealing the old parchments of Necto’s library. Gasping, Silas jolted up, furiously wiping the tears from his eyes. His parents had been so brave. They hadn’t given him away. They loved and protected him. Everything he had been told about them was a lie.
Blood dripped down his forearms and calves from the flying debris of the destruction of Lignum. Silas winced as he stood, remembering the Beast that had terrorized his home. Ophidian had murdered his family and destroyed his kingdom. Silas would get his revenge.
The first parchment, now opened, lay flat upon the table. The second lay next to it, ready and waiting. Silas stared at it, unsure of taking the next step. He had been battered and bruised in the first parchment. What would happen in this one?
As if answering his question, the orange cloak brushed against his wounds, encouraging them to heal. Silas clutched the cloak. Its power had grown since he had seen Addie. Somehow, his mother’s love for him had strengthened the cloak’s power. If his mother, Addie, and Eman were strengthening him, he would continue.
With trembling fingers, he reached out and broke the next seal.
CHAPTER 14
ADDIE
The Elders. I vaguely recalled having a conversation with Eman about them once. Something about how they were masters over their realms. Eman had also explained that the Elders refused to send aid when Ophidian first attacked.
I stiffened at the thought. That would mean the Elders watched while Decim slowly fell to darkness. Gripping my alme, I slammed the end against the marble floor. Who did they think they were, summoning me now?
“What do they want with us?” I asked, irritated. I was already behind on trying to clean up the mess they had caused.
“Nothing good, I suspect,” Lyle responded, studying a moving picture before he shuddered and looked away. “Before Eman left to face Ophidian, he gave me this.” He pulled a glowing yellow orb from his pocket.
“So, Eman decided on you after all,” Romen commented as he counted his weapons. “You know I told him I wasn’t sure you were the right choice.”
Lyle furrowed his brow. “Right choice for what?”
“Wait,” I interjected, pointing my alme at Lyle. “Have you been here before? And why do you have one of those things?” I motioned to the orb that was similar to Romen’s.
“Unfortunately, yes,” Lyle murmured, his fingers tapping wildly on his thigh as his eyes darted all around. “I have been here before.”
“And—” Romen cut in, snatching the orb from Lyle’s non-tapping hand. “This is a hominum. Along with providing transportation, it identifies who is in power over which realm. This is the hominum for Ramni.” He shook his head before holding it out to Lyle. “If Eman gave you this, he chose you to be his successor, the next Elder of Ramni.”
“What?” Lyle and I gasped simultaneously.
“I said you were too young and inexperienced, but Eman always knew what he was doing.” Romen shrugged. “He gave me a special hominum in case he couldn’t make it to Praetor Octivus.”
Lyle stared at the hominum before glancing at Romen. “Too young?”
“Excuse me, Mistress Bellata?” a squeaky voice from my feet asked.
Glancing down, I watched as a small creature scurried around my ankles before standing on its small, padded feet. I blinked down at the two beady eyes staring expectantly up at me. Not only was the creature covered in spines, it was somehow able to button a red vest over them. It was absolutely adorable.
“Yes?” I replied, resisting the urge to pet its head.
“The Elders of Praetor Octivus are ready to see you now. If you’ll follow me.”
“Not even going to say ‘hello’?” Lyle questioned, crouching next to the creature with a grin.
“Master Lyle!” The creature squeaked, nuzzling his boot. “I wasn’t sure if I’d see you again!”
Chuckling, Lyle patted the creature’s head before it turned back to me with a smirk.
“Come, come! We must not be late.”
Its little legs hurried along the slick floor as its spines swayed back and forth. As we followed, the air sparked with a powerful aura that prickled my skin.
White marbled columns stood like soldiers along the perimeter of the hall, between which hung various paintings that would occasionally detach from the walls, float overhead, and hang in new locations. I pursed my lips, watching the different scenes move in each portrait, depicting what I could only assume to be the Elders themselves. In one, a woman comprised of shadows snuffed out the sun with her whisps. In another, flame burned everything it touched. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. If they were so great and mighty, enough to brag about it through their décor, why did I have to keep fighting Ophidian time and time again?
