Chapter 7 - Starlit
“No mercy forever our plight.”
Darkling psalm
The metal Star City gates remained locked with two stoic guards in black livery on the other side. I should have known the city would be closed after an earthquake. The fear of wayward creatures entering the walled city would prevail or perhaps the council hoped to prevent mass exodus. The death mist had been known to swell after being overfed. Either way, I could not enter unless I wished to die.
One guard’s eyes met mine and a flash of recognition bulged in his white irises. “The gate is closed for the duration of the new moon. Come back tomorrow.”
My chest constricted and my fists tightened. If I could have punched the stone wall with no injury, I would have. This delay would allow Cressandra and her supporters to arrive at Star City at the same time as me. I couldn’t allow her to steal my chances at the seat of power. A passing wyvern crossed overhead, showing off a light belly and dark scales—he wasn’t Dante. With so many of the reptiles swarming around the city and no homebase, I’d have a slim chance of flying to the council building.
I wandered down the same path alone, kicked at the rocky ground, and scanned the darkened forest as if searching for Donovan. Why should I be concerned with a Sondrenen? Yet I found myself returning down the gravel path that led to where Donovan parted from me and further down there was an irrational mob. A howl cut off my scheming thoughts, warning of wolves in the black and twisted forest.
Perhaps Donovan and Alexander would consider it part of their mission to be guards for me even in the Dark Realms while I sneaked in to see the council?
Then you can kill them. Mendax hissed his thoughts into my mind, reminding me that I was never alone. I patted my hilt as if my sword were just a pet though he was so much more. The wandering spirit within the metal came to me years ago to direct my steps with his ancient wisdom and give me more strength.
The trail curved and the spot where Donovan had run like a mad man into the tangle of branches and bramble. If he weren’t an enemy, I’d admire his fortitude. Then again, he also called me dear and insisted he was my escort to Sondren. I rolled my eyes but found my focus returning to the last place I’d seen him. He had saved my hide from death. A chord of guilt sang through my soul in a melody that did not abide well with my other sentiments.
Leave him to die. Mendax whispered through my mind. He’s your enemy and would destroy you like they had your father. The reminder allowed for a deep breath, but it didn’t keep my own torturous memories from the eve of my twelfth birthday ceremony from caving in over me.
***
“We always have a choice.” Papa nuzzled my head and gave my shoulder a tight squeeze. “You may choose the gown if you like.”
The delicate fabric glowed with the shades of all twelve moons. I couldn’t get enough of the way it felt against my skin. “But Papa, you forgot the apron. Isn’t that an option too?”
Mother spun from her spot in front of my mirror. “Mante! A servant? When are you going to stop putting those absurd ideas in her head. When I was her age—”
“You dreamt of becoming the wife of a powerful Darkling and here you are my dear.” Papa winked at me with a sly grin. I didn’t know it then, but he kept the oceans of my soul at peace with those little gestures.
Mother’s lips screwed together. “But you are not in a seat of power. You settled for the Governor of Kadoc, a mere province. When I dreamt of power, I wanted the highest seat in the Dark Realms. My love, those ambitions are lost on you.” She tightened the cord holding the hair at the top of her head. Our eyes met in the mirror; her glare shot out like an arrow. But, it bounced off my heart as if it had pelted the stone walls in my changing room.
I kept my chin high and my expression neutral; I’d learned this skill early in life. Though Papa stood between us, I didn’t want to argue on the eve of my twelfth red moon. Tomorrow would be a big day with many choices, so I thought.
Papa turned my shoulders toward him with his rough hands. “My Starlit.” The purple lamps deepened the color in his violet eyes. “You don’t have to choose the sword because of me. If you’d like, choose the apron.” He dashed a glance at Mother, who grunted, and he continued, “Better yet, take a seat of power, if you so choose. You’re strong enough to lead well. If you don’t take the seat, your mother might take it for you.”
Mother rammed into Papa’s side and stormed out of the dressing room. I giggled, a contagious and carefree sound. Papa joined in. I thought we would never stop, until Papa’s appearance grew serious.
Papa unfastened his leather pauldron from around his shoulder and placed the oversized armor on my shoulder. “It’s a little big, but it would suit you too. The Dark Realms need someone who will stand for what’s right. You can do that in a gown, a prestigious lady of the realm, or with a sword, a soldier moving up the ranks of power. Of course, I’d like you to continue my legacy with the sword. But it’s a hard life. And the Sondrenens will never relent.” Those were the last words he ever said to me.
Later that day, business took him to the border and only a grim-faced officer returned. I stood behind a thick, wooden door needing to know every detail about how Papa died. The officer said, “It was a Sondrenen attack. Highly unusual. But it happens.”
“That’s a shame.” Mother sounded as if she spoke of a guest missing my ceremony rather than losing Papa forever. “Starlit will surely miss him at her ceremony tomorrow.”
The officer’s voice rose an octave. “Aren’t you cancelling? The city will be in mourning.”
“No, we put far too much work into the event and Starlit will choose the sword as her chosen profession. In honor of her late father, of course. May he writhe in his tomb until his death be avenged.”
During sleep time, I let myself sob, unconcerned who heard. Papa was gone. And now Mother wouldn’t let me choose my future. The skin around my eyes puffed. What did it matter how I looked? The gossamer dress in shades of red, purple and orange would never be mine. The rest of my moons, I’d wear trousers and a sword strapped to my waist. I couldn’t say when my weeping ended or sleep began.
“Wake up, dear.” Mother threw atop me a rugged ensemble made for a lady soldier. The moon lamps shone yellow, marking the next morning and the day my life found a new meaning.
By high moon, the ceremony outside my home, the governor’s fortress, had started. Since Father could no longer govern, Mother secured our home by forcing me to take the sword. Mother would rule until I proved myself worthy of governing. That’s how things were done in Kadoc; the governor passed leadership to their child, preventing the soldiers of the city from fighting to the death for power. To my chagrin, me choosing the sword was the least bloody option.
A bugle sounded among the spectators. The black and yellow military marched into the courtyard for the festivities. My feet moved. I nodded at the appropriate time. The details of the day blurred before me. A few angles of the moon later, we celebrated my so-called choice and mourned Father’s death in our cavernous banquet hall.
“Darling, you will fail.” Mother tipped her dainty nose in the air. Her icy stare threatened me to challenge her in front of all the visiting dignitaries at our long dining table.
Why would she force me to choose the sword if she thought I’d fail? My throat tightened. I blinked back burning tears. Crying was not an option. Yesterday, Papa sat between us, my buffer from her—gone. The officials from Star City meant to offer their condolences and make me feel better about losing Papa.
“Father is no longer here to fill your head with fanciful dreams. May he writhe in his tomb until his death be avenged.” The saying never sounded so revolting. She downed a glass of liquid fire and flourished a hand, calling over a servant to fill her flute.
“Let it be so.” The plump governor from Star City bobbed his head and licked his bottom lip, fawning after Mother.
Arching a flirtatious brow, Mother continued to discuss Papa’s passing with rose petal words and a thorny meaning. I imagined that she relished in my discomfort. My stomach squeezed with disgust. Thank all darkness for giving me Papa’s violet eyes and raven hair. The rest of my features were hers. I would have gladly traded my mother’s beauty for an ogre’s.
“Don’t worry. We’ll find you a good match. What silly nonsense it is to think you will lead us. Don’t you agree Governor? She’s far too soft.” She plucked a poison berry from a servant’s tray and bit into the tender flesh. Purple juice stained her bottom lip. “Don’t look at me that way. You won’t succeed.”
“Watch me, Mother.” I whispered under my breath. Hot rage pulsed through my veins. I needed to prove Mother wrong and Father right. I will be governor and more. The seat of power is mine.
***
Staring off into the forest, I adjusted the belt along my waist and unsheathed Mendax. “Answer me this riddle. “Who slaith the night and replaces the wolfs howl with a fight?”
Mendax hissed, “Sondrenen spies.”
“Yes.”
“And they’ll slay you too once they’re done with the wolves.” The purple color of his spirit plumed beneath the metal surface and electrified with fury. “Do you think you know better than a millennium of existence?”
“In all that time, have you defeated the light?”
The brooding color within my blade intensified enough for me to feel the electrical pulse he emitted. “Darkness cannot abide with the light. They will destroy you.”
“No, they won’t. They’re my escorts and they can’t introduce me to their king if I’m dead. I need bodyguards.” I charged into the tangled forest with Mendax ablaze with spite. He killed best when he was enraged, and we’d have to fight the forest’s creatures.