The Sun Kingdom: The Sword of Myn': III: Alarm
Saturnia unwound the sword-shaped hairstick from her daughter’s hair, letting the coiled locks fall loose over Eya’s shoulders. The hush-hush of the bristles was soothing to hear as the brush moved rhythmically through the rose-gold tresses.
It had been a long day. The afternoon had stretched into the evening, with Bran, Mercir and King Solan tucked away in the King’s private study. Not a sound had escaped until Solan had come to fetch Saturnia, leaving Aphrodelle and Eya to pass another long hour with Aura.
That hour hadn’t been frightless.
It had been Eya who had started, and realized that the face she had been gazing at was almost translucent, luminescent even. Aphrodelle, stirred from sleep, saw the same.
It really was the dismissal of hope, even though both girls pretended that surely, they were too tired to trust their eyes. Bran had come then, and his ashen face had told them they weren’t wrong. It was Star-Sickness.
Without a word he had picked up Aura and taken her outside. Fresh air would help a little, for the time being.
Saturnia, strong as ever, had given no sign that she was surprised, and had gone about doing whatever she could. There was no longer much that could be done, not that evening.
Bran had volunteered to remain with Aura during the night, and so the Queen departed to keep the routines she knew were so necessary in times of trial. She tucked the youngest ones into bed, comforted Aphrodelle, and then came to Eya, as she always did.
She always gave Eya a little extra time. Maybe the princess needed it; her mother knew only too well how much more Eya had to wrestle with; or was it because of something else? In either case, Eya did need it.
“How do your scars feel, dear?” Saturnia’s voice mingled with the soft swishing sound.
“Alright. They hurt a little this morning, that’s all.”
Eya fingered the tip of the miniature sword as she held it in her lap, and frowned a little as she wondered again about her biological family. Bran never spoke of them, except to say that they had been good and kind; and where it regarded the hair stick she now held.
Their eldest brother had given it to her. Both brothers had warned her to never, ever lose it, and so it never came out of her hair, except when night fell. Even then, she slipped it into its tiny sheath and back into her hair.
All she knew, besides these things, was that her family had perished in a mysterious battle the same day of the fire: that which had mutilated her face and arms. The girl groaned a bit and rubbed her gloved hands, wishing that she were normal . . . she said another prayer for her deceased family, and prayed that Aura wouldn’t join them!
Saturnia touched Eya’s cheek in sympathy.
“I had more of the balm made for you. We can use it tonight and you will feel better.”
“Does – it matter? Right now. . . I . . .I’m not important, Mitei, not when Aura -”
The brush stopped.
Saturnia touched Eya’s chin and drew the girl’s eyes upwards.
“You’re always important,” she whispered. “No one loses importance because of anything, my little Sabé. We need each other, all of us, right now, more than ever. Your pain is no less hurtful than it was before this began.”
Eya leaned her head back on her mother’s shoulder.
“Is there nothing I should know? Of what Bran had to say?”
Saturnia paused, focusing on a few split ends.
“We may tell you a little,” she said at length, “but I don’t wish you to have all of it on your mind. If you feel you need to know what is going on, I will tell you what I might.”
Eya nodded.
“Your brother had a close friend in Universe-City. His name was Procyon. He, too, fell ill with Star-Sickness, and they delved into all the information they could find on past cases and the legends surrounding it. They were able to locate an ancient book somewhere in the files, which they eventually got a hold of, and tells of what may only be myths surrounding the possible cure. Bran tried to follow the clues, and found something. . . a shard of the crystal which the Dark Spirit shattered. It was a deeply dangerous quest. He wasn’t able to locate any others before it was too late.”
Saturnia laid aside the brush, taking up a crystal case of balm from the vanity. With Eya’s approval, she loosened the mask and gloves.
The princess’ parents, as well as Bran, were the only ones well acquainted with her scars. With anyone else, Eya felt an overpowering shame and horror. The mask was her only shield, and she was grateful for it.
The Queen applied the peach-tinted cream to the scars as Eya sat still. It was cooling like the kiss of rain on the skin after a warm day in summer, and the eternally-lingering ache faded. This done, Saturnia took up the brush again.
“It is a hope for us, Eya, Now, there is a rumor running around in Vestar’s world that a man named Pintar Ajak has something to do with the spreading of the illness. His ancestors before him were known to have done the same, in the hopes of gathering an army of those Sky-Beings who succumb to the Dark Spirit.”
“But such an army wouldn’t be of much use,” Eya objected. “Sky-Beings perish if they leave their limbo for more than forty-eight hours. Why does he want an army? If he does.”
“It seems the intent is to disrupt the order of the galaxy, and gain control of the most strategic systems as a stepping stone to taking over the entire galaxy.”
“Mitei-” Eya felt so useless, trapped in this web which seemed to stretch wider and wider with each passing moment.
Saturnia smoothed Eya’s hair and began deftly twisting a few sections of the deepening rosy locks into an intricate braid.
“There, there, my little one. . . see, everything can still be well. We have a little time to find whatever must be found. This Pintar Ajak, too, must be investigated, and perhaps Vestar can be of help to us. As for Aura, the abbey is a safe place of healing. On the morrow, perhaps you might ride to see whether arrangements can be made. It would be a great help to me.”
Eya sighed and felt a little tension leaving her. Yes, the abbey could help. And she could do something beneficial, instead of watching her sister fade!
Earthiana closed her eyes, comforted by her mother’s touch, thoughts struggling between her scars, her fears, and Aura’s life. No matter how hard she tried, somehow all things were woven together by her scars. Yes, the princess knew she, Earthiana, was the strange one. But maybe it didn’t matter so much, not knowing. She could leave it aside, think only and pray only for Aura.
Except for all those nightmares. . . and all those strange dreams, all the warnings in advance, as when Bran arrived. Dreams of fires and Dark Spirits in the past - glimmering stars in the future. What did they mean?
She shook her head and her mind went back to Aura, but she was so tired, and her mind felt numb now. God would keep Aura, she prayed. Nothing more could be done until the morrow. . . there was time, and they could save Aura –
Bran would be able to find everything they needed.
She tried to focus on the sound of the brush being pulled through her hair, and the soft, soft caresses of her mother.
When morning came, the family gathered in the sunroom. Aura was being kept quiet, and prepared for her transferral to the abbey. Eya would depart to make the request of the abbot as soon as she had taken a little repast.
Breakfast was never eaten until ten, unless one was a traveler or ill, so the table was spread only with rich grain breads, light fruit dishes, including salads and ambrosia, and an array of juices, floral tea, and sweetbark, the kind made with crushed berries, nuts, and the chocolate which Vestar had introduced not long ago.
Bran came in later, having spent a long night with Aura. Running his fingers through his shaggy hair, he took his seat beside Earthiana. There wasn’t much talk to be had at first, but at last, the King broached the subject of the hunt.
“How do you think we should begin our work, my son?”
Bran looked up from absentmindedly stabbing his sweet-lime slices.
“Begin in the obvious place, I suppose. I know of another crystal’s location, as I said, so we’ll need to obtain it.”
A knowing look flashed over Solan’s face but he only nodded for Bran to continue.
“I went through all my research last night to see if I could narrow down the locations of the remaining six. Nothing but a handful of rumors so far. We’re going to need several parties to find them all.”
He didn’t add the words everyone thought: in time.
“Well,” Mercir said slowly, staring into the depths of his starberry juice, “let’s hope those rumors are correct.”
“And that we find them before anyone else does,” Aphrodelle murmured.
“Indeed,” Bran answered, his eyes now dancing, “but if I don't know where they are after all that research, I don't see how anyone else could find them before I do.”
Earthiana couldn't keep from laughing at her brother's sudden gaiety.
“You will let me go with you, won’t you?” she asked eagerly. “Since you promised?”
It didn't take but a split-second for the three men in the room to turn to Earthiana and point out how dangerous it was.
“You heard how Bran was nearly killed,” Solan reminded her. “God ordained that men be the ones to take on life-or-death situations, and women to preserve life chiefly by compassion.”
Earthiana turned her eyes to her brother.
“But Bran,” she said softly, “Bran, you promised! I can stay away from dangerous places, can't I?”
Bran bit his lip.
“I made that promise before I knew that Aura was ill,” he reminded her. “I’m sorry. Please don't take it so hard, dear. You know you can’t leave Solaria. You need to stay where you're safe. You're a princess . . . this is where you belong.”
His sister dropped her clear gaze, turning her head away from the table so they might not see whatever emotion chose to present itself. She had known, deep down, that no one would let her leave with him.
Bran hugged her.
“Sweetie. . . I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I know it hurts. It's just that I love you so much. If anything happened to you I would never be able to forgive myself, even if God did. If you stay, I’ll know you’re safe. Besides, I have this for you.”
He slipped a rose-gold vio-cam into her hand. “This way you can still see me,” he said softly. “It won’t be the same, but at least it won’t be like it was when I was at school.”
Earthiana curled her fingers around the gift and looked up into her brother’s clear eyes. “Thank you. I know, it doesn’t matter. We need to find those crystals quickly.”
She was speaking rapidly, shoving her pain out the way it had come in, because it didn’t matter, either.
“I need to head out,” she declared, rising and pushing back her chair. “Else, Father Abbot will have no warning.”
She kissed her parents quickly and left before anyone could reply; hurrying outside, she found that the sky was overcast.
As usual, William was on her heels without having been told. He seemed to sense that she wasn’t in the mood to speak, and wisely said nothing.
Together they made their way to the Royal Stable, where they were greeted by the spirited chargers of the knights, sweet-tempered palfreys, and her younger siblings’ mischievous ponies.
The opening of the stable doors brought a gust of cool wind, stirring up the dry, sweet smell of hay and oats, and a swirl of grain dust. Earthiana passed dozens of stalls before she reached the one she was looking for. A Solarian mare of pearly hue put her muzzle over the stall door and nosed aside her mistress' curls.
Returning the gesture with a kiss on the mare's nose, Earthiana untied Eliona’s lead rope and saddled her as William mounted his own palfrey, Ra. Once mounted, they rode down the slopes of the valley towards the Abbey of Our Lady of Constellations, which housed both friars and sisters in separate wings on either side of the church; and in the third range was housing for travelers and the ill.
William was willing to leave Earthiana now, as she would be in good hands until the Royal Family arrived; thus, he departed whence he had come.
The princess waited in the welcoming hall, surrounded by tapestries and stained glass windows.
“Ah! My dear princess!”
Earthiana turned to meet the abbot, whose eyes were smiling through his spectacles. He was clothed in the rough blue robe of the order.
“Father Riga!” she exclaimed, hugging him.
The whole story of Auranessa's sickness tumbled from her lips. The moment she finished, the abbot signaled for a passing sister to prepare a room for the sick princess. He turned back to Earthiana.
“You mentioned something about a cure. Has it anything to do with the Angelin Crystal?”
Earthiana nodded. The pair moved out of the room, passing through corridors criss-crossed by skylights.
“I want to be sure,” he warned her, “that you don't believe that the crystal itself is the cure. God can use minerals as a medicine, but none hold a mystical, mysterious healing power. There are tales from our sister Andromeda, in which crystals were a source of evil. We must be cautious in this matter.”
“I know, Father,” Earthiana murmured. “According to Bran's research, the crystals are carved with the location of the cure. We must find them at all costs, because it is the only lead we have.”
“The only lead, but not our only hope, my princess. God will provide whatever is needed, whether or not these crystals are of help.”
“Father . . . sometimes I don’t understand why God doesn’t tell us things more clearly, when the situation seems gravest.”
“Sometimes I don’t understand why God had to be born.”
He let her ponder that for approximately five seconds before volunteering to show her the library. With the vast collection of ancient manuscripts, they might find something on Star-Sickness.
He swung open the oaken doors.
“And sometimes,” he mused, “God wants us to find a door and pull it open. Even if He slams it on our fingers.”
The pair stopped in the center of the library, beautiful in its majestic simplicity. Swirls of colored light fell musically over thousands of tomes and scrolls.
Earthiana, taking one look at all the rows of books, digi-files, and scrolls upon shelves, exclaimed, “I hope this is in alphabetical order – otherwise it will take hours to get through this!”
The abbot laughed.
“Don't worry, it is in alphabetical order,” he assured her. “I'll search for Star-Sickness.”
“Then I'll take the Angelin Crystal,” Earthiana said, and they split up.
After nearly twenty minutes of searching, the abbot finally came across a medicinal tome containing information on the illness.
“It seems it has cropped up every thousand years, give or take up to a century, since the incident in 4366 P.ӕ.: in 7229, 10413, and 13331.”
Earthiana dropped the book she had been skimming.
“13331? Father, if Star-Sickness is returning, the timing is off by a thousand years – it should have been happening in 16300-something, not 17405!”
“Indeed, the pattern has been oddly altered.”
“This could be evidence of it being spread purposefully,” the princess murmured. She was still hunting in vain for information on the Angelin Crystal.
“Try the Sunstar as well,” the abbot suggested. “We should find out exactly what it had to do with this virus. I wonder if it could potentially be the original source. It could be an interstellar bacteria brought to Solaria.”
“Mm, that’s a thought. Why, then, would it be attributed as the original cure?”
“We’ll find out if we find what we’re looking for,” the abbot teased, and they began scouring the shelves from top to bottom once more, the minutes ticking by.
Earthiana glanced up as she was pulling out a heavy tome. The bells were ringing; it must be nearly noon, she thought. It was strange that the royal party hadn’t yet arrived.
Then she realized that the bells weren’t pealing in time, but in alarm. For the second time that morning, she dropped the book she was holding, as a distant cry sent a wave of cold apprehension sweeping over her. She ran and found the halls crowded by the sisters and brothers who had also heard the noise.
Earthiana pushed her way through the group and ran outside. She came to an abrupt stop. Her face blanched.
Two of the friars were holding the reins of her brother's stallion, Estӕ, and were struggling to keep him still. It was easy to see why.
His coat was reddened with blood.
Read the previous chapter here.
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So, if the star beings only live 48 hours if pulled from "paradise," how could someone use them to take over a planet, much less the galaxy? It does raise an interesting question.
This is turning out to be a great story.