In the dull light of the caverned room, it was impossible to tell if it was morning or not, but my sleep-ridden eyes seemed to show that I had been out for at least several hours. I rolled over to see Ciro silently stoking the fire with a metal rod. His face shone the deep lines of worry that he seemed to hide when he knew people were watching. I sat up, letting him know I was awake, and his expression warmed as he turned to me.
“How did you sleep?” he asked, turning back to the fire.
“I… I slept very well actually. None of the usual nightmares, thankfully,” I yawned with a stretch. Although the swirling thoughts of yesterday’s troubling revelations kept me up for a bit, the tire of the day’s travel finally hit me after a few long moments of tossing and turning.
“Good. Very, very good. I was worried.”
“Worried?”
“Yeah. No matter how many wards I make, they can always find you when you sleep.”
I froze.
“Who can find me?”
“The - the Guides? Don’t you know?” he turned to me, confused. “Didn’t Lumo tell you? I suppose he didn’t want to scare you.”
“What - what can they do? I know of people receiving messages in dreams from the Guides… but that’s it - they’re only dreams, right?”
He stared at me, perplexed. “You really don’t know…”
“I really don’t know,” I said, teeth clenched.
“They seethe into your unconsciousness, like little parasites - manipulating you and all that you see,” he raised his hands like claws for dramatic effect.
My mind flashed to the night before. The crow, the mirror.
“I think… I think they tried to trap me… in a mirror. Does that make sense?”
He lowered his hands, expression growing serious.
“Yes, that’s a Herculea favorite. A mirror appears, showing you a lovely place - usually a room with no doors or windows. Before you know it, you’re trapped there - stuck in your own dream prison until one of their mercenaries finds your harmless, defenseless, sleeping body.”
Herculea…
“Has it… has it happened to you?”
“No… thankfully not. But it did happen to someone dear to me. Thankfully I was there… to break them out.”
“You can dream walk?”
He laughed. “I could… I used to be quite the mage back in the day… But that was a long, long time ago,” Ciro sighed.
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Dream walking was an ancient, powerful magic, only done by those most talented disciples after years and years of study. I suppose it made sense that the Guides could do it quite easily - that was often how they communicated their wishes to the realm.
I closed my eyes, remembering the crow pecking with such intensity at the hand mirror. There was now no doubt in my mind that that was Lumo, guarding me from their clever traps, watching over me as I slept.
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“How do you know Lumo?” I asked, mouth full of food as we ate our light breakfast.
Ciro chuckled to himself, then rubbed the white stubble on his chin.
The dried fruit and warmed cinnamon goat milk tea was perfect for the chilled damp air. The fire did a lot of work, but the cave walls still pulled my heat away like a dry sponge. The magic meal that Ciro had yesterday must have warmed him quite a bit as he had no more furs wrapped tight around his neck, but a loose cotton shirt and trousers now. Although he was more slender than I assumed underneath his heavy coats, his heavily scarred arms held tight where muscles used to be.
“About two or three years ago - when he was barely a man, he was sent to find me… Find me and kill me. ”
“Kill you?”
“Well yes… No use sending me to the Judges,” he laughed, “I was living peacefully in the Barrens, a nice retirement after years of fighting. Away from all this madness in the realm. No need to worry about any Judges or Guides or any of this mess.”
The Barrens.
Of course people could live there, but the thought struck me as so strange. The southern lands of Lucerna were only ever described as desolate, war-ridden ruins.
“Gods, I’m going to need a drink if I have to go over that whole mess,” he said with a sigh, pulling a bottle off the table behind him and uncorking it with his teeth. He spat the cork out in the fire then took a huge gulp of wine. It was oddly impressive given the hour.
He wiped his mouth with his sleeve, leaving an inky purple stain on the cotton, noticed it, then grimaced, cursing to himself.
“When I had my dream - where I saved my horse… I knew I didn’t have much time before they found me. As strict as they are now, they were even more so back then. Any Solia disciple was to be taken immediately, to the Guides themselves.”
“Not to the Seven Judges?”
“No, gods no. This was ages before all that. So of course - young thing that I was, I went directly to the girl I fancied and knocked right on her door. Middle of the night, I said ‘Let’s run away together to the Barrens’. And you know what - stupid things that we were, she went with me,” he smiled, taking another swig. “We went on our little adventure, stealing two horses from Pa’s stable, riding across the Fogged Plains. She was an excellent rider. That’s why all the boys in town liked her,” he laughed to himself. “We settled down, sneaking past patrols of soldiers and ducking below winged fleets and made ourselves a little house. And it was… it was good.”
I knew by the way that his bottom lip started to tremble, that this is not where the story ended, as much as he wanted it too. I wanted to let him live in this little moment, but the sadness in his eyes lingered. But instead of tears, Ciro’s jaw clenched and fists tightened around the bottle.
“Turns out another boy in town got swooped up by our dear friend Herculea, and made it his life’s mission to rescue the poor maiden who got kidnapped by me, a vile Blood Mage,” he spat at the fire. “I remember we were eating dinner, all together… as a family… and I heard the great screams of the wyvern. He found us.
“I held my ground as long as I could - both of us did. And we fought… and I lost. I lost everything. I… I remember her screaming, crying, on the back of that disgusting golden beast.”
A golden wyvern.
Kidnapped maiden.
“Lord… Ventas?” I stammered.
It was impossible, that story was almost a hundred years old.
Ciro suddenly stood.
“Don’t you dare speak his name,” he shouted, throwing the now empty wine bottle in the corner with the rest.
“Sorry.. I -... But in all the books… they said you were a Void Mage-”
“Of course they did. The great Lord Ventas almost defeated by a Blood mage while on the back of that great beast? Impossible. No, but against the many gruesome creations of a Void mage? That’s far more believable.”
I watched him, face red and sweating now as he sat on the corner of the bed. He then held his head in his hands.
“But it doesn’t matter now, does it. They’re both dead by now,” he grumbled in almost a whisper.
I paused, considering his words.
“Is that… Is that when you came here? To hide?”
“No… I should have. But I was angry. Very angry. I wanted him to pay - I wanted all the Guides to pay too. He took her away. And so I fought in the front lines of the Barrens– taking entire armies out with a single movement of my hand. The anger - it fuels us, makes us more powerful… And when I took in all that magic… I became… invincible.”
He sighed, leaning back.
“For years… for years I fought against their toughest warriors, protecting the Barrens from any invaders… And I was good at it. But fighting is a tiring business, even for the best of us. And I wanted nothing more than to rest. So I went home to our little house on the shore, living peacefully in my lonesome retirement… Until I met Lumo.”
To my surprise, Ciro then began to laugh.
“You should have seen him! Tiny little kid, sent all alone by Herculea herself to take me on. Poor thing was terrified - but as soon as he started to do his little tricks, it was my turn to be scared. He threw me around the room like a piece of parchment, all without lifting a finger, little bastard.
“Sorry, excuse my language - not used to having young ladies around,” he chuckled. “But when he finally let up and listened to me - I told him my whole story… then we made a deal. He didn’t want to kill me any more than I wanted to die. So, long story short - here we are,” Ciro gestured to the little cave room with dramatic flair.
Sent all alone by Herculea herself.
The words did not sit right in my head, sticking there, refusing to budge.
‘Prince Lumo.’
I froze.
The powerful, inhuman magic he carried, comparable to the Guides themselves.
It couldn’t be.
“Is… Is Lumo Herculea’s son?”
Ciro’s eyes grew wide and he turned to me far slower than I would have liked. He then, much to my frustration, began to laugh so loud that the bottles on the ground began to clink together. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes as he began to slap his knee in delight.
“Her son? Oh Gods, what a thought. I wish I would have thought of that one - I mean -”
Knock, knock.
We both froze.
Ciro turned to me, face now as serious as his drunk self could manage.
“It’s too early for Caville,” he whispered before sneaking forward in an exaggerated hunch. He slowly cracked the large door open, and just as he poked his nose outside, the hinges gave a loud squeal as Lumo pushed his way inside with ease.
“Your breath, Ciro - how much have you had to drink?” Lumo grimaced as he pushed Ciro aside with a single swoop of his arm.
“You’re back early,” Ciro slurred, “Just in time, Mira just told the funniest joke. Tell him, Mira.”
I looked at Ciro’s giggling face in confusion.
“Oh, please tell,” urged Lumo, scooting up the little stool up beside the bed.
“Hi - I… I just asked if you were Herculea’s son.”
As Ciro burst out laughing, Lumo remained still, lips pressed.
“Ah,” he said flatly, “Good one.”
“It wasn’t really a joke,” I muttered under my breath.
“I’m guessing you didn’t tell her?” Ciro mumbled between wheezes.
“No, I did not. And I kind of hoped that I didn’t have to today, so thank you for that, Ciro,” Lumo said, thick with annoyance.
“...Tell me what?”
There was a lengthy pause as Ciro settled himself and Lumo straightened up in his comically small chair.
“So, a long while ago,” Lumo cleared his throat, “Two of the Four Guides went to Solia herself to ask her for something… very particular. Both Herculea and Selphena asked the great entity for so-called ‘perfect partners’ to join them in their rule as Guides. They had grown bored of their mere human companions during their long reigns. They sacrificed almost all of their magic at the time as gift to Solia, and thus, in return - my brother and I were born of Solia. My brother was betrothed to Selphena, and I… I of Herculea.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
“Yes,” Lumo said with finality, standing up with a stretch. “Are you happy now Ciro? Ruined a perfectly good morning. I’m sorry Mira, I wanted to ease into that news.”
My head was spinning, pieces coming together. Not only was this being the son of Solia herself - but betrothed to one of the Four Guides? I could not move. My mouth went dry.
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‘Let’s just say I too wish I was given a looser lead with these reigns of fate placed upon our heads.’
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Prince Lumo.
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“If… If you are betrothed - are you not yet of age to be married?” I asked, the room once again swirling.
Lumo smiled, crossing his arms and tilting his head to the side.
“Are you that eager to rid of me?” he laughed, “I am, sorry to disappoint, not as eager to wed the blushing bride as she would like. So the ceremony has been put on hold.”
“On hold,” Ciro laughed, “Right. That’s one way to put it.”
Lumo turned to Ciro, jaw tight.
“I’m sure you’re staring daggers at me, but I can’t quite tell under that silly mask,” Ciro giggled.
Lumo smiled.
“Fair point old friend, but believe me, the look was quite scathing,” Lumo paused, “So tell me, Mira. Have you made up your mind yet?”
I thought of Ciro, stuck here, hiding away in this dreadful cave, drinking his memories away. A life on the run, rife with not a single night of restful sleep. Every waking moment, afraid of being found by the Guides, even in your dreams.
I then thought of the white and black feathers in the crane’s beak, that day that felt like so long ago, as I watched the ceremony beside Mother and a once strange man. The white feather, dropping to the young girl’s feet - her mother’s shout of pain in the audience. Did she know? But then, the single, remaining feather, on its path to Limenta.
Herculea wanted me to become angry. To perhaps even take the magic of those around me. Could I, in that moment, made sense of what was happening? Could I have felt my own sister dissolve into nothing but the fine mist of magic, only to be absorbed into a Blood Mage’s lungs?
Lumo had called it a failed test. He had saved my sister - to spare me. He knew, as soon as he sat next to me, what I was - even before I had any dream of a dying imp in a field. The Guides had known what I was as soon as I had no flame in the Ritual of Solia.
Herculea didn’t even want to give me a chance to prove myself by my choices in that dream - she wanted me to act out as soon as Limenta took that white feather… and she wanted Lumo to kill me.
“What… what would have happened if Limenta picked up the feather?” I asked, afraid of the answer.
Lumo turned to Ciro, and was met with a nod.
“She knows,” Ciro sighed, all of the jovial energy he once had from the bottle now gone.
Lumo cleared his throat, “She, like the girl before her, would have… would have turned into their magicked form. But, unlike the girl before her, she would not have traveled up into the sky, making its way to the sky tower to fill Herculea’s lungs. No, Limenta’s magic would quite possibly went to you, into your lungs, for all the ceremony to see. For Limenta, as your sister, has Blood Bond to you.”
Blood Bond.
“And when the professors saw - if they were to see that happen, they would know… They would know what you are. And you would… you would need to protect yourself…” Lumo trailed off. “It was supposed to be an ordinary ceremony. But when that crane stopped in front of your sister… I knew.”
“If she wanted me dead… if she knew I was a Solia disciple even before that day - why wait to make a scene?”
Ciro then gave Lumo a curious look, but Lumo quickly turned his head away.
“To make me suffer,” Lumo said in almost a whisper.
“So, Mira -,” interrupted Ciro, “Are you planning on hiding out here with me? I’m sure there’s a cave nearby we can spruce up to your liking. Assuming you still don’t want to turn yourself in-”
I stood.
“I want to fight.”
Lumo looked up at me, a smile on his lips.
“Good, good choice,” he stood, stretching out his long arms and patting me on the shoulder, “And good timing too. There’s a dragon rider on his way now to escort you to the Seven Judges himself. A good bounty on you, I heard. Got tipped off by your courier - Caville was it?”
Ciro took a rogue empty bottle off the table and smashed it against the wall with a curse. “That conniving little-”
My stomach started to knot.
A dragon rider.
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