Chapter 1

The Story of Valanir

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Your Majesty, the Kingdom grows restless.” The advisor spoke in hushed, quick tones. Lillian frowned slightly as he spoke. The information was nothing new. It was strange how often the same words were brought to those in power.

King Porter seemed to share the same annoyance as Lillian, but he kept his actions far more reserved than Lillian managed.

The King waved his hand dismissively. “This information is nothing new. You know that the trade routes have been blocked?”

The advisor, a scrawny man by the name of Textmaster Avon, nodded slowly.

The King continued. “And you know that I have been told of this, that I know of the problems, and that I am working on fixing the problem?”

The advisor nodded again. “Er… Yes,” He said reluctantly.

“Then why do you continue to waste my time with information that I already know?” King Porter snapped. “Do you doubt that your King cares?”

A bit harsh, father. Lillian thought. Avon had simply been doing his job.

“Your Highness, I did not mean to aggravate you. I am simply trying to express my concerns. I fear that a revolt, even assassins sent against yourself, may be inevitable.”

King Porter sighed, then spoke softer. “I fear that as well. I have my top guard focused on my defense, as well as those of the Starlight Guard. For now, it may be the best we can do.”

The Textmaster nodded reluctantly, then bowed before turning back toward the grand hallways of the Palace.

The grand room was left in silence.

Lillian glanced at each entrance, then turned to her father as the man left the room. “Father, if I may, I can’t help but wonder who those ‘best men’ that you mentioned are.”

King Porter looked at her, then frowned. “The strongest soldiers from the King’s Guard, and the fastest spies from the Starlight Guard.”

“How do you judge that they are the best of your guard?”

The King paused. Lillian continued, “There are many stories of great heroes who weren’t able to do some of the simplest things.”

King Porter’s face darkened. Lillian understood that her habit of collecting and telling stories was a bit of a problem to him, distracting her from more important parts of helping rule her kingdom.

It was a while before he responded.

“They are stories, Lillian.” The King returned. “Fantasies. Myths!”

“Designed by great philosophers to teach lessons. Everybody has their limits.” Lillian folded her arms.

The King sighed. “You want to tell me a story.” He sounded almost resigned. Tired by the many struggles brought by recent events. “If you must share a tale, go ahead.”

Lillian couldn’t help but smile, just slightly. She took a deep breath as she picked a story, her favorite one to tell, off of the top of her head.

“The Hero Valanir was known as one of the greatest people to walk among the Kingdoms. To many he seemed to be the very symbol of nobility itself. He conquered many beasts previously thought undefeatable.

“It was a peaceful day when his loved one fell ill, with a terrible plague. Death was nearly certain. However, there was hope. For there was an ancient artifact, blessed by the stars, capable of healing some of the greatest wounds.”

The King looked at her, he seemed to be calming down, but there was a hint of concern that, as always, hid behind his eyes.

Lillian continued, voice wavering slightly. “Valanir, knowing he only had a short time, set out alongside his dear one. As they approached the resting place of the healing relic, darkness struck.

“Creatures of shadow flooded the horizon, screaming and lashing with their horrible fangs. Valanir stood before them, with his sword in hand. He slayed a great many beasts that day, each swing brought glory and triumph. But despite his power, he forgot one simple thing.”

Lillian paused. “He also had to protect his loved one.

“The Great Valanir turned as quickly as he could to return to his dear one, slaying darkness with each footstep. But despite his power, his glory, triumph, and nobility, none of it was enough to save her.

“Both Valanir and his dear one fell that day, never to be seen again.”

Lillian let the ending hang, as if incomplete. She looked at King Porter. “Even the best can fail. You should take more effort to defend yourself.”

“A King’s duty is to their people.” King Porter whispered, reciting the words grandfather had taught him. “They serve those who are lower than them. Their interest is not in their own self, but those who need the help of a ruler.”

“And where will the help be if you die?”

“They would be the cause of it, Lillian.” The King’s voice was laden with grief. “The solution is not what it seems. If we give them sufficient supplies to fulfill their needs, then the problem will eventually resolve itself. We simply have to figure out a way to prevent the roads from collapsing.”

“We could have the builders design a more durable road,” Lillian suggested, “Or reinforce the land nearby to help avoid disasters such as this.”

The King sighed. “Good ideas, in concept. But we have already tried these things for months, and still the mountains crumble, the trees topple. Our people are dying.”

She’d known it, of course. Lillian’s habits could sometimes be far from proper, but she did still pay attention at meetings. The trade routes, upon which the Kingdom of Erylen heavily depended, were being blocked by constant landslides or other disasters.

Lillian drew her lips to a thin line. Her father wasn’t going to stop focusing on the blockage. “Then promise me, until we find a working solution, that you remain on alert.” She glanced toward those doors again.

The King furrowed his brow. “Lillian, this won’t be like what happened to your mother. These are lighter days.”

“But we are struggling more than ever before.” She shifted slightly, making sure not to break posture. “Of all the Seven Kingdoms, we have to be some of the lowliest ever.”

The King sighed. “We live in a fair land, our lives much nicer than others. We are lucky, even though we aren’t the most powerful Kingdom, Lillian. We still have more power than some.”

Lillian drew in a sharp breath. How could he be so unconcerned about his own upcoming death? “Please,” she said desperately, “Just please say you’ll try to keep yourself safe. For me. For the Kingdom.”

King Porter hesitated. “I will… consider.”

A small sense of victory overwhelmed Lillian. Risking letting her father be in such danger worried her. Then again, putting the guards into so much trouble did the same for the King.

“Thank you, father.” Lillian breathed. She smiled at her father, but was returned only with a grim stare.

The King lowered his head. “I need quiet. Please. Leave me.”

Lillian froze for a moment. What did I say?

However, she simply obeyed her father’s wish and walked across the throne room and through the door. It was not, after all, her place to disobey. She turned toward the grand hallway, but froze as she heard soft sobbing echoing from the throne room.

It was the king’s.

“Oh, Arlynne.” She heard her father sob softly, speaking his wife’s name with a reverence typically dedicated to the Great Souls. 

Lillian looked at the doors to the throne room, where the assassins had flooded in, all those years ago. She shivered, looking away.

“Arlynne.” Her father cried again. “How do I handle this?”

Lillian swallowed, forcing herself forward through the palace halls. She felt stupid. All her little argument had done was put more and more stress on her father.

She looked out the windows toward her kingdom. People could be seen in the distance, crowding the streets. Those people all envied the nobles, the power held by the royal family.

Little did they realize how much that royal family envied the freedom held by the citizens.

Chapter 2

The Great Stars

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lillian had heard her father cry only a few times before. The sound of the usually confident king’s weeping had carried with Lillian even until nightfall.

Now, she lay awake in her dimly lit bedroom, unsure of how long she’d stayed up. One thing she did know, however,  was that dusk had fallen long ago.

The moon hung low in the sky, shining dim light through the balcony, barely enough to allow Lillian to see the sparse amount of decor that she had placed in her room. A large potted plant in one corner, and in the other rested her mother’s half painted vase, never finished. By her nightstand, she’d left a candle unlit.

Lillian took a short breath, standing up with a soft groan. She lumbered tiredly to the balcony, greeted by the majestic view of the Kingdom of Erylen. Lillian looked toward the streets below, where lanterns were lit along the maze-like alleyways. She turned her head upward looking out into the night sky, toward the three Great Stars.

The Great Stars glittered in the sky, brighter than any others. The lesser stars broke and fell from the sky, following the example of their superiors.

It was said that the stars fell because they wept for those in struggle. And that the Great Stars wept for the great Kings and Queens who struggled in their rule. Yet, as Lillian stared toward the three distant stars, they did not seem to pay her, nor her father, any heed.

It was said that the Great Souls were great beings in charge of protecting humans from the worst threats. They took residence on the Great Stars themselves, they could see all. So why didn’t they see Erylen? Why not her father?

She’d heard stories of heroes who were accompanied by these great beings, heroes with the ability to light fires with their very presence. She had seen no such glory from anybody in the palace.

Lillian clenched her fists. “You were supposed to help us. You were supposed to watch over us.” She whispered. “You are the guardians of the Seven Kingdoms, yet you abandon us.”

Silence followed. The stars did not shift.

She furrowed her brow. “You abandon us, and still call yourselves guardians!” She was no longer whispering. “If you were truly supposed to help us, then we wouldn’t be in this situation! What kind of Guardian are you?”

She steadied her breath, then whispered again. “What kind of guardian leaves their people to doom?”

All traces of exhaustion Lillian had felt just a moment ago had gone. Despite that, she let herself drop to her knees.

“How,” She whispered shakily, “How can you let Erylen fall, without even giving any sign that you understand what is to come?”

She looked up at the stars once again. “Why do you let us slowly die?”

Knocking sounded from the door, causing Lillian to jump. She stood up and turned toward the door, running a hand through her messy hair, and straightening her nightgown.

“Princess?” A soft, feminine voice came. “Are you alright?”

Lillian walked quickly over to the door. “Yes. I’m fine. I was,” She paused, “simply praying to the Great Souls.”

“That was quite a loud… prayer, my lady.”

Lillian blushed slightly. “Perhaps I had gotten a bit passionate. Rest assured that I am fine. You may leave me.”

“Yes, my lady.”

The room became silent once more. Lillian stepped backward reluctantly, turning toward her bed. Perhaps she should try to get some rest.

Stupid. Making a fuss loud enough for the entire palace to hear. Stupid and undignified.

Lillian sighed, and lumbered to her bed, sitting down on the side. She looked toward her nightstand, where the candle flame flickered, weakly illuminating the room.

She took a deep breath, looking groggily at the flickering flame. Slowly, she picked it up, blew it out, and went to bed.

Chapter 3

Princess of Erylen

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Palace Courtyard was a large, open expanse, with dense foliage on either side of the wide path. It looked as if the gardeners had intentionally left the place overgrown, and it looked stunning regardless. 

Intricate glass patterns lined the cobbled pathways, glittering elegantly in the early morning sunlight alongside the dew on the long ferns and delicate flowers.

Lillian strode along the path unattended. Moments like these, moments spent alone, were few and far between; making their short length rather egregious. 

Sure enough, it was only a few minutes before she found the [Starsearchers]. They looked up from hurried work as she approached. The lead one, a man wearing elegant dark robes, smiled warmly as he saw her.

“Princess,” he said as he stepped forward. “I assume you are here to take stock, hmm?”

Lillian raised an eyebrow. “As usual, Gulliver,”

The man did a small merry hop in the air as he turned toward his men. Lillian swore the man had eaten starlight as a child. How else could one get so energetic?

A few moments later, a couple of men, followed by Gulliver himself, pulled a small cart forward. Inside, there was a stock of large glass jars, each filled with a shimmering ivory liquid.

Lillian counted the jars quickly, making a mental note of the stock to record later, then frowned. There were only four jars of liquid starlight. It wasn’t a horrible take, but given the current situation of the kingdom, it wasn’t ideal.

Wordlessly, Lillian produced a single silver coin for each of the workers, handing them to Gulliver to distribute.

“I expect these to be delivered to the Starlight Keep as soon as possible.” Lillian ordered. That earned a nod from Gulliver, who turned to usher his men to the task.

Lillian turned back toward the nearest palace entrance, only a short walk away. She began walking, but hesitated at the sight of two men approaching her. Lillian sighed softly as the royal guards approached. However, they said nothing as Lillian continued onward through the courtyard and back into the grand building.

She made her way through the marbled halls toward the archive, which she entered.

The room was dim, or at least dimmer than the candle-lit halls outside. Textmaster Avon sat at the front desk, scribbling notes on a long sheet of paper, pausing to look at a set of records, only to resume his previous work.

Lillian stepped swiftly to the textmaster, speaking quietly. “Textmaster, I have a report on our Starlight intake.”

The textmaster looked up. “Hum?” He seemed confused for a moment, before realization snapped into his eyes.

“Oh, your Highness! Please forgive my lack of attentiveness.”

“You are forgiven,” Lillian replied with an amused smile, “Gulliver’s report says we’ve got four full jars of Liquid Starlight today.”

“Ah, yes, I'll note that.” Avon dipped his quill in the inkwell, then shifted to another paper, in which he scribbled the number. In doing so, he allowed Lillian to catch a glimpse of what he had been so busy on.

The notes appeared to be for Lord Brisbur of Erylen’s innermost ring. She suppressed an annoyed grunt. The only thing Lillian thought worse than working for the man was having to put up with him in person.

Textmaster Avon finally looked up. “Thank you, Princess. Stars bless you.”

Lillian nodded, then exited the room, guards following close behind her.

She turned to find the kitchens to take stock of food and water supplies. It wasn’t a particularly long walk, but it was cut short as a palace maid approached her.

“Princess,” She said with a humble bow, “You are needed in the courtroom.”

“In a moment.” Lillian replied dismissively, “I am focused on other tasks.”

“Not to offend, but His Majesty said he needed you now.”

Stars above! Lillian thought, then, not without a resigned sigh, turned hurriedly away. She wasn’t sure why she had been summoned to the court, usually the meetings there were either unimportant to her, or too important for even Lillian to attend. If something was so urgent… Well, it didn’t sound good.

* * *

The Noble Court was quieter than usual, though there were a few notable, though hushed, conversations in some of the corners of the room.

The court took place in the dining hall, with a large amount of food heaped on each person’s plate. The mundane dinner was, to Lillian, a mask. One to hide a different kind of warfare. A war of words that could be as sharp as daggers.

Nobody ate yet, as the meeting was not officially in session -- and wouldn’t be such until her father declared it so. 

After what seemed to be an eternity spent in worried anticipation, King Porter finally rose from his chair, raising his hands to his side.

“Nobility of Erylen,” He yelled, “as we now gather together, we establish yet another meeting of the Court of Erylen! 

“Let us begin.”

Chapter 4

The Court of Nobility

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The concerned conversations began immediately.

“Your highness,” one man said, “What are we to do about our decreasing supplies?”

“Unfortunately, I do not know yet.” the King sighed. “I am working on a solution.”

“The people are getting very agitated with our short supply,” said a third. “They blame his Highness. I fear a revolt.”

“Yet another problem that I have no solution for.” King Porter confirmed.

Lord Brisbur sat up. “We share power among the richest. That way, despite the people’s unrest, they can’t blame a single person.”

The crowd went silent for a moment. Lillian gritted her teeth. “That will help nothing!” She said boldly, “If the people revolt, then giving them multiple targets only leads to more casualties!”

Lord Brisbur smiled at Lillian’s challenge. Of course he’d expected it. “However, it will allow the survivors to appoint new nobles! We will be able to replace the lives lost nearly immediately.”

“Tell me, My Lord, why exactly do you care so much for this decision? Perhaps it could be because you are among the richest of the nobility? You only desire this, Lord Brisbur, so you can gain more power for yourself.”

“Nonsense! I was asked to bring a solution.” He raised his glass, “I brought you one.” He took a sip, then continued. “Though I would like to address the larger problem, we may not have enough time to make such a large change. The Erylen Law does not have rules for such a situation.

“However, I would be willing to hire Textmasters to help adjust the law as needed, to help with the process of speeding up that adjustment.” 

Chatter resumed around the long table. Stars. That investment would be rather costly, disproving Lillian’s accusation. She drew her lips to a tight line. Did he do it because he’d planned it the entire time? Or simply to divert negative opinions toward Lillian rather than himself?

“I believe what Lord Brisbur says does have some merit for consideration.” Said a bird-like Evem’Avi to the side. He wore the distinct robes of a king’s advisor, which fit the bird-like person well. 

An Evem'Avi's opinion was typically strong, and came with a good reason. Fighting against one was often difficult.

“I agree,” Said King Porter, earning yet another smile from Brisbur, “The people of our kingdom need leadership, even if they make decisions that they falsely believe are good.”

“I propose,” Lillian interjected, “That we increase defense for our king. We appoint more guards, and send out the Starlight Guard to discover potential threats.”

“Her highness seems to still struggle with her paranoia,” Brisbur noted, “Searching for threats to her father when there are none. Even then, who would join the guard?”

Lillian hesitated, but spoke, “Anybody willing, anybody who can be trained.”

“They will not be skilled enough in battle!” said another, “They will not be worthy to defend our king.”

Lillian’s mind again turned to the story of Valanir. Even the best can fail, and even the worst can succeed.

Lady Stellene, a woman not much older than Lillian, looked to the king. “What say you, your Majesty?”

The King frowned. “I promised my daughter that I would consider her idea, but still I believe Lord Brisbur has a point. If, by some small chance, Lillian is able to find even a single person willing to be trained in my defense, I will allow them to do so. 

“As for Brisbur’s idea, I will consider it. I expect that I will have an answer very soon.”

A long silence followed.

Lillian reluctantly spoke up again. “Are there any willing to join in defense of our king?”

Nobody moved. Nobody spoke.

No. No!

Blessed Great Stars. Her father was doomed. She had failed. He would be killed by his own subjects.

King Porter looked toward her sympathetically. “I’m sorry, daughter. But I will not force anybody to risk their lives for me.”

The King stood to end the session. He opened his mouth to speak.

“I will do it!” Lillian shouted.

All eyes, once again, turned toward her.

“I will join in the King’s defense! I will give my life for a faithful cause!” Unlike you selfish lot. She narrowed her eyes toward Lord Brisbur.

Silence returned, though to Lillian, the silence was drowned out by her own racing heartbeat.

The Nobles all shifted, fidgeting with their cutlery. It took what seemed like an eternity before somebody finally spoke.

“Thats,” said Lady Stellene, “That’s preposterous!”

 The Even’Avi nodded. “You have no training, no preparation. It’s foolhardy! You can’t join the King’s Guard!”

“I doubt,” said another, “That she could even make the ranks of a regular soldier.”

Conversations resumed around the room. Lillian glanced at King Porter, who sat with his eyes closed.

Lillian stood straighter, slamming her hands on the table, causing plates to clatter against the table. “At the very least, I’m taking action instead of accepting a preventable fate.”

Growling quietly, she continued. “Perhaps I might not be a soldier. You may think me foolish, but rest assured that I do understand what I am choosing. For that reason, I will not join the ranks of the King’s Guards.”

She took a deep breath, mainly to regain composure. “Instead, I, Lillian Porter, Crown Princess of Erylen, will be trained under the order of the Starlight Guard.”

The Nobles froze yet again. The Starlight Guard was a hidden order, one of spies and assassins rather than brute force soldiers.

She looked toward her father once again. He’d finally opened his eyes, and now looked at her with shock. And perhaps even grief?

That said more than any argument by the other Nobles. Lillian nearly paused.

Stars above. It really was a terrible idea, wasn’t it? But something had to be done. It was a desperate idea. A desperate idea for a very desperate time.

Lillian held back tears and nodded. “I will do it.”

Finally, the King spoke. “Very well. Lillian Porter, Princess of Erylen, will join the Starlight Guard and stand in defense of her King.”

“Great Souls protect me.” Lillian whispered.

Stars. What had she just gotten herself into?

Chapter 5

Rowan the Defiant

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lillian knew hundreds of stories. Stories of grand heroes who gave their lives for another in acts of grandeur.

Many of those heroes lost their lives in the process.

She stood still on her balcony outside, feeling ashamed of her decision. What had she been thinking?

Sighing, she slumped down to her knees, a story on the tip of her tongue. With no living soul to listen to her, the Stars themselves would have to be her audience.

“Rowan the Defiant was a man of great knowledge.” Lillian whispered, “He was especially gifted in the arts of healing, to cure sickness, and prevent death.”

The only response was the whispering wind as it whistled through distant leaves. “He was also a great navigator, who sailed the seas to find great lands. It was upon such an expedition that our story begins, and ends.

“Rowan was known to endure the toughest of trials, even including the slaying of a young dragon, and the saving of his home village.

“But nothing could have prepared him for the day that he found the great civilizations across the seas. Palaces and kingdoms larger than any seen here. Places so grand that they are beyond even my ability to understand.”

She paused. The wind whispered again, carrying her words to reach the stars above.

“Rowan became a connecting bond between two peoples. Peoples who shared each other’s ways, and formed peace.

“But Rowan quickly fell ill in the new lands. It was a disease unlike any he had seen in his homeland.

The people of the new lands recognized the sickness, and explained it was easily cured. However, when they explained to Rowan the technique, it seemed to him that it went against much of his understanding of his homeland medicine.

“Because of this, he refused to accept treatment, simply because he did not recognize it, simply because he did not understand it.

Thus, Rowan died because of his useless defiance. He was so focused on what he already knew, that he was not willing to accept anything more.”

Lillian fell silent. The world seemed to still itself alongside her, as if it was sharing her regret.

“I’m just like Rowan. I was so determined to get my way, that I didn’t accept any other solution. Any better solution.

“Now I have to pay the price.”

She looked up at the Great Stars. They remained quiet. Lillian felt a strange sense of disappointment. Though she knew she shouldn’t, she hoped something would come from these stars.

Slowly, she began to look back down at the city below. Stars, it may be one of the last times she got to do it.

I will do it! She had said. Stupid of her. Idiotic, even.

Lillian fought away tears. Pathetic. She was reckless enough to say that she would join the ranks of guards, but now she wept as she got her way.

In the stories, heroes made decisions like her own because they understood that they’d have a chance to actually help.

A princess was no spy. They were well known across their kingdom, and even beyond. How would she even try to hide?

Lillian was just becoming dead weight to be dragged along. Possibly even holding back success more than actually pushing it forward.

But you can still be taught. Another part of her said. Though it was true, how long would it take? You cannot know the surprises of the future. Which doesn’t mean they were pleasant surprises.

Even if you die, you may still be able to save your father. To save the people who you love.

Stars. That one did sound like the heroes in the ancient stories. She dismissed that voice for that reason.

Still, Lillian was too late regardless. She, like Rowan, had, in her defiance, led herself to her death. All just to get her way.

Even still, a part of her whispered, your efforts may be enough regardless.

Chapter 6

The Starlight Guard

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The King’s High Guard, commander of the highest ranks, guards of both the High and Starlight, was a grizzled man by the name of Castor. Lillian approached the man, who stood stiffly in glittering metal armor and a silken cloak

He nodded to her as she approached.

“My lady,” Castor said, saluting, “we are humbled to have you join us.”

“You shouldn’t be.” Lillian replied, “Though I will give my full effort, I’m afraid I haven’t been taught or trained in the ways of combat.”

“Such is the case for many of our newcomers,” Castor noted, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t see why you would be any different.”

Lillian smiled. “Perhaps because I have been trained in skills of a near opposite my entire life?”

Castor started walking down the hall, motioning for Lillian to follow. “You’ll find that your many years spent refining your movements and abilities are more connected to wielding the blade than you think. If nothing else, it means you are able to learn a new stance, I’d think.”

“You’d think? You are humble, Castor, Sir. As the High Guard, I believe your opinion may be one of the best we have.”

“But I am but a simple man. Nobody may have the entire knowledge of anything. Save the Great Souls above us.”

Lillian felt a sharp sense of disagreement, then frowned. She forced away the feeling. It was far more than mere blasphemy.

However, she took a moment to ponder on his words. Perhaps his opinion wasn’t the best they had. Who was to know? Perhaps he wasn’t even stating the truth of his feelings on the concept of training his Princess for combat.

They passed numerous rooms, each with many people training inside. Shouting of soldiers echoed through the halls, but Castor passed each of these without a glance.

Lillian frowned slightly as they continued outside into the sparring grounds. Surely they weren’t going to force her to fight, were they?

It didn’t seem so, thank the Stars, but Castor halted in the center of the grounds regardless.

“This,” He said, pausing, “This choice may break you. If you decide to step away now, no one will judge.”

So that’s how it is? Lillian folded her arms.

A pause. “Very well then.”

Castor turned toward Lillian. “Welcome to the Order of the Starlight Guard.”

Silence.

Finally, Lillian nodded. “Thank you, Castor.”

Castor said nothing, instead glancing coldly to the side.

Lillian followed his gaze to see a figure standing above the walls.

“She,” Castor said, as if reading Lillian’s mind, “is Ayven. She’ll be the one who trains you.”

“And why is she on the wall?” The question earned an exasperated sigh from Castor.

“Dramatic effect, I’m certain," he finally replied.

The figure leapt from the wall, as if trying to prove Castor’s statement. Ayven landed gracefully, touching the ground with a burst of light. 

A starwielder.

Lillian had been in charge of taking stock of the Starlight that fell from the sky each night, but for all she’d heard of the abilities it granted, she’d hardly ever seen one use them.

“I’ll leave you two to get acquainted.” Castor saluted, then marched back into the palace.

Lillian stood as Ayven approached, grinning like a maniac. Her simple uniform and shoulder length hair seemed to contrast Castor in many ways. Castor was the leader of the High Guard.

This person was the elite of the Starlight Guard.

“So, you’re the new member?” Ayven asked.

“Indeed so.” Lillian replied. Stars. How did she act in front of her? Already she could sense the judgments that Ayven was making.

Lillian noted that Ayven’s gaze scanned Lillian, but she wasn’t able to discern her emotion.

Finally, she spoke.

“Perfect!” Ayven said with a dramatic flair of her hands, “You’ll fit right in!”

Lillian paused. “I will?”

Ayven smiled. “You’re so distinct, so utterly noticeable, but you are never the full center of attention, are you?”

“No, I guess not.”

“Exactly. You have to keep your emotions contained?”

“Yes.” Lillian admitted.

“Then you can play a part, you can blend in!” Ayven seemed all too excited for this.

“You just said I was noticeable.” Lillian raised an eyebrow.

Ayven simply smirked. “Kid, the trick to blending in, is knowing exactly how much to stand out. You, even as royalty, are able to hide in the shadows of your superiors.”

“So that means I have a chance?” Lillian asked.

“Have a chance? You may just be the most qualified person I’ve ever seen come to us.”

Surely that was false, right? The Starlight Guard, though Lillian didn’t know much about them, was a group of spies. Assassins.

How does a princess, trained in staying reserved, silent, and calculating, become a killer?

“Castor,” Lillian noted, “did not seem to think I was up for this.”

“Oh, the dramatic, ‘this choice may break you, blah blah blah, turn back?” Ayven guessed, “He says that to everybody. Me included.”

Stars! Was Lillian the only person here without faith in herself?

“Now,” Ayven said, face falling, “for business.”

Lillian straightened, meeting Ayven’s gaze, now cold.

“We begin tomorrow. Get as much rest as you can, because you’ll need it. A uniform will be brought to your room, along with a set of common clothing. We’ll need that second one tomorrow.”

Lillian nodded hastily.

“Finally, be prepared for anything. Be willing to do anything. We do not ask much, and what we take from others, we will replace.

“Welcome, Lillian Porter, to the Starlight Guard.”

The air grew colder. Silence followed.

Ayven nodded. Then, with a starlight enhanced jump, leapt over the wall into the dusk.

Chapter 7

Thieves in the Dark

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The night was cold. Humid. Clouds covered the stars. Fitting, as their presence wasn’t deserving of a fool.

The run down streets had been left long since empty, save for small critters that lived off of scraps. Lillian watched one such critter now, as it flitted around the streets.

It paused, and Lillian watched as other creatures emerged from the shadows, and snatched the creature.

She flinched and looked away as she heard it shriek.

Ayven, Lillian thought desperately, where are you?

She stood alone in the night, wearing a simple outfit of trousers, a tunic, tied at the waist, and a coat to help ward the cold. It was unfamiliar, but preferable to being left alone in the dark.

Vulnerable, from anywhere.

Unfortunately, Lillian had to deal with both. She searched behind her, scanning the shadows for anybody. Any person who may be able to help her.

Or harm her.

She shuddered. This was your choice. You went through with it. Pay the price.

Stars. She was a princess. She shouldn’t have to deal with this. A princess could get their way.

But stars above, this was her way, wasn’t it?

“How long are you going to stand there? Even gonna break posture?”

Lillian yelped, spinning backward and nearly stumbling before regaining her footing and looking up to see Ayven.

She’d been sitting casually on the roof directly behind her. With a deep laugh, she  slid down and landed lightly on her feet.

“How long,” Lillian gasped, “were you sitting there.”

Ayven smiled, and despite the mischief in her eyes, the cold seemed to retreat. “I watched you arrive here, kid.”

“There were crowds then!”

“Not hard to pick out,” Ayven said, “I know I said you were ready to learn things, but that doesn’t mean you already know them. You walked with far too much refinement to be an ordinary cityfolk.”

“Nobody else seemed to notice.” Lillian folded her arms.

“Nobody else was trained to notice either. If an enemy assassin were there, you’d be dead anyway.”

The cold returned.

Ayven turned toward the dark. “Follow me.”

Lillian followed without objection. As they walked, Ayven produced a small, glowing vial of starlight. “Are you familiar with this?”

“I am in charge of taking stock of it.” Lillian said.

“I asked if you were familiar with starlight, not whether or not you’d ever seen it.”

“I’ve never used it.” Lillian admitted. They passed an unlit lantern, and continued into darker streets, with only the vial as a light source.

Ayven stopped, and turned around. “What’s a first time then?” She said, holding out the vial.

Lillian accepted it reluctantly. She stared at the shimmering liquid inside.

“Well,” Ayven prodded, “What are you waiting for?”

“I’ve… never used it. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Ayven folded her arms. “You drink it.”

“That’s… safe?”

“That’s how I’ve used it for over ten years. I’d better hope so.” Ayven shrugged.

Lillian pulled off the cork, gritting her teeth as she reluctantly put the starlight to her lips.

Warmth flooded through her, but other than that, the effect was rather underwhelming. Lillian lowered the vial and looked toward Ayven, who smiled.

The streets were… brighter. Not bright, but noticeably less dark.

“That vial didn’t have a lot,” Ayven explained, “But it’ll last much longer than you may think.”

“It feels so… weird.”

“It’ll feel like that. Takes a bit to get used to.” She turned and began walking. “Come, we’re not going to do much today.”

Lillian began walking. The darkness and cold seemed to be repelled by the starlight, and though she could see better, Erylen’s narrow streets seemed to radiate a dire feeling. One Lillian wasn’t quite sure how to fully describe.

She should trust her own Kingdom, shouldn’t she?

But those shadows… Stars!

Perhaps her kingdom wasn’t as trustworthy as she wanted to admit. She followed closely behind Ayven, she seemed to be a source of safety in an otherwise ominous situation.

“The trick to starlight is knowing how to control how you release it.” Ayven explained ahead of her. “Release a lot as you leap to launch further than humanly possible. Or, release some through your hand to visualize a simple illusion.”

She demonstrated by forming a lantern in her hand, which gave off sufficient light to illuminate the area. Lillian observed it, fascinated. It appeared to be subtly unstable, its form fuzzing and shattering. Though it got the job done, it would never pass for a real thing.

Ayven stood still, watching to the right. Then she produced a long dagger.

Panicked, Lillian followed Ayven’s gaze to a distant alleyway. The starlight helped her see through the darkness.

Somebody stood  in the distance.

And they had wings. Long, dragonlike. Unnatural.

Lillian jumped, staring at the vague silhouette of the person. They leapt away into the darkness.

Ayven stood, silent.

“Something you should know,” She said, quietly piercing the silence, “Is that your plans never stay the same as a spy.”

With that, Ayven took off into the darkness.

Chapter 8

The Vengeful Wraith

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lillian cursed silently as Ayven took off into the darkness. She’d already had a rather confusing few hours. Now, she was following behind a guardian who recklessly charged into danger.

Stars. Ayven was fast. She leapt off of walls to keep up with the figure. Lillian herself was falling behind. The starlight still sustained her, and notably helped her speed.

Perhaps it was best to keep her distance anyway.

Despite that, Lillian continued her pursuit until she caught up to Ayven, who stood in the center of the alleyway, motionless.

“The thing just… disappeared. Vanished into the darkness.” Ayven said. “I couldn’t stop it.”

Lillian couldn’t find the strength to respond.

So, instead, they sat in silence.

Ayven shifted. “You hear that?”

Lillian shook her head. Trying to focus on the sound.

A person was speaking nearby.

Lillian and Ayven found them in a distant alley, hunched over a barrel and wrapped in a tattered cloak. No wings. Whoever this man was, they weren’t the figure that Ayven had followed here.

Ayven motioned for Lillian to stand back. She gladly obeyed.

“Reborn…” The man ranted. “I am reborn… Once dead. Once broken… Now reformed. I can end suffering. I can break chains… I am a Revenant. And I am free.”

“Not a threat.” Ayven whispered quietly. “He’s gone insane.”

“Reborn.” The man continued. “Reborn, to save them…”

Lillian shuddered as Ayven began walking away. The man looked up. Toward Lillian, meeting her gaze.

In his eyes, Lillian saw something broken. As if rifts were broken inside his eyes. It seemed as though his very soul was broken to a point beyond repair.

At that, Lillian turned around and hurried to follow Ayven.

The two walked through the city for quite some time before Ayven finally spoke.

“This place feels off.” She said, “There’s something about these walls that are different. Something dangerous.”

Lillian didn’t respond, though she was certain Ayven could tell that she agreed.

“I’m going to have to rethink how I teach you.” Ayven continued. “Meet me in the courtyard at dawn. We’ll try something else there.”

Ayven escorted Lillian back to the palace. Despite her being unsettled, the night didn’t hold any more secrets for the two to discover, so she safely returned to her bedroom.

Lillian had changed into a simple nightgown before she sat down against her bed. She didn’t sleep well, either. The man’s words haunted her.

Reborn.

Ayven had instantly dismissed the man as insane. But Lillian saw his eyes. In those she had seen something broken. Yes, something broken indeed, but also something that was cold, calculating.

Something strategic enough that it could decisively kill off whoever it pleased.

I can break chains.

She sighed, deciding that she’d been looking too far into that experience. Still, she checked the window for phantom shadows before turning to grab her lute.

It had been a long time since she’d played the thing. She would, on occasion, play at celebrations as she told stories.

Stepping out on the balcony, Lillian began playing into the dead of the night. Clouds still obscured the stars.

The song, a traditional version written to accompany the story of Valanir, was carried away as she played.

It started out simple, building up slowly, to a solemn release, like the hero’s leap into battle. From there, it escalated, building up speed and suspense.

She could almost see Valanir fighting amidst the dark.

She continued playing, moving on to a slower part of the song as Valanir would have finally begun to understand the cost required to save his loved one.

Then, the tune built again, speeding up to a crescendo.

She paused, then strummed the final chord, a deep, dramatic sound that hung in the wind, like a story unfinished.

 

She sat, breathing deeply as the silence filled the air. When she looked up, the clouds had shifted. 

The Great Stars had returned to view.

Somehow, she understood. This night, they watched her.