Lura Syllana
On our way out of class, Ralodan catches up with me. “Hey, sorry about Olizara Greatgazer, she’s a bit of a stuck-up crown bird.”
I laugh at the notion. I can picture the crown bird with its head up high, acting above the other birds. “That is a perfect comparison.”
He smiles. “What can I say? I tell it like it is.”
I can’t understand why this boy makes me feel so full of hope, love, and compassion. That smile just brings it all out from inside me. I try my best to ignore it. “Say, what do you know of Terel Glarespell?”
His eyebrows seem to collapse down on his nose. “Why do you ask?”
“I’m just curious. I heard a rumor that he had some secret or something like that,” I say nonchalantly, trying to downplay my curiosity.
“Did you hear this rumor or read it out of a book? Maybe someone wrote it in your textbook?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes… How did you know?” I ask, tilting my head as my eyes widen.
“Within my textbooks are notes written by someone who claims they are the author. However, when I asked about them to Olizara and several others, they have no idea what I am talking about. They say that Terel had no secrets. They even claimed there was no writing in my book,” he says.
“May I see your book?” I ask.
He hesitates. “The person who wrote the notes told me to keep them secret. I’m not sure I should show you.”
I hand him my book. He opens it and his eyes go wide. He looks at me with his jaw gaping down at the floor. “They’re the same notes, and it even looks as if they are written in the same handwriting.”
“Now may I see your book?” I ask. He hands both books over to me without saying a word. I open them and compare the two books. It’s as if they are identical copies with the same handwriting saying the same thing. “What does it mean?”
“I don’t know…”
“You two have the writing in them, too?” We both turn to see Biremeril following behind us.
“You mean your book has them too?” Ralodan asks. Biremeril says nothing, just hands him his book. Ralodan opens it and his expression says it all. The book must contain the same words written. “What does this mean? How many copies are there with these notes in them, and why do we have them?”
“I’ve been looking into it, and I suspect there is some kind of charm on the books themselves so that only a select few can read the notes. That is why if you give these books to another who isn’t selected for whatever reason, they can’t see the notes. The writings vanish. I suspect whoever cast the charm only wanted those with specific qualities he sought to read them,” Biremeril explains. “I’ve tested this, and I have verified it. I found that Irlana Blackshadow cannot see the notes, but Prysmeril’s book has the notes within them, and can see them in mine. Whatever this secret is, it is dangerous.”
“What should we do?” I ask.
“We should find Terel’s books and read them,” Ralodan says.
“I concur,” Biremeril says. This is the first time I’ve ever heard Biremeril speak more than a few words. There’s more to this boy than meets the eyes.
“Then let us find them and read them,” I say. “Have either of you read where they are located?”
“It says that the books which contain the truth are located where truths are admitted and forgiveness is given,” Biremeril says.
“What does that mean?” I ask, scratching my head.
“Don’t we have to admit our wrongdoings? Would that be considered truths? It would make sense to be forgiven for them,” Ralodan asks.
“That is my thoughts exactly,” Biremeril says.
“So where is the place where we are to confess for our wrongdoings?” I ask.
“Follow me,” he says and starts heading in the opposite direction. Ralodan and I exchange looks. He shrugs and we follow him. We head up the stairs until we reach the main floor. Then we head into the cathedral itself in all its glory. Rows upon rows of pews made from white marble with silver cushions trimmed with gold resting upon them line the cathedral. An aisle splits them down the middle covered in a vibrant gold carpet that leads to the most grandeur of pulpits made from pure gold. The walls have gold and silver-stained glass that depicts an image of angels. Brilliant chandeliers hang from the ceiling high above with a painting of such magnificence it truly leaves me in complete awe. It shows two angels, a man and a woman, descending from above to shed Light upon the darkness.
“That is Akrasiel with his sister Jophiel. Our savior,” Biremeril says.
“He is beautiful,” I say. I look around and oddly, there’s only one other person in here. A man who’s kneeling on a bench to pray. I immediately recognize his uniform. He’s some officer within the Golden High Elf Trading Company. The way he is dressed, he must be someone important.
“He feels…” Ralodan says before mumbling under his breath something I can hardly make out. “Familiar…”
He stares at the painting long and hard before Biremeril pulls him from his trance-like state. “It should be over here.”
We follow him over to several booths made of marble that line the back corner of the hall. He goes through them, inspecting each one. We help, searching for the others. “May I ask what you are doing?”
We all stop and stand up from the booths as a short, stout, pudgy woman wearing a white gown in gold trim with a rather pompous headdress that seems to stand up from her hair to make her appear much taller. It’s white with gold trim.
“Mother Chaetris…” Biremeril gasps. “We… we… we…”
“We were just marveling at the beautiful architecture of this gorgeously built cathedral. It’s quite impressive,” Ralodan says with that beautiful, handsome smile. “Have you seen the way this marble is elegantly chiseled to such perfection?”
“I agree, it is quite impressive and surely deserves such adoration. However, it should not be dirtied by such impure hands. I suggest you three should put in extra hours of chores to put such dirty hands to their proper use,” she says with a look that makes a crown bird seem humble.
“A… as… you wish… Ma… Mother Chaetris.” Biremeril tries to spit out in a trembling stutter. He turned into a complete mess.
“What makes our hands so impure?” I ask, meeting her judgmental eyes with defiance on my own.
“You dare question me, you low-born… Child?” the stout, pudgy woman asks with eyes full of fire.
“What she meant was how can her hands become pure such as yours? She only seeks to better serve the Light such as yourself,” Ralodan says. I go to correct him, but he speaks over me, giving me a warning glance. “Like we all do.”
“I suppose that is a worthy goal, but I’m afraid low-borns such as yourselves aren’t capable of reaching the level of purity that I and the other high-borns obtain. It’s just how things are and will always be. Now, go and do us all a service and put yourselves to good use and get to work cleaning our beloved cathedral,” she says raising her hand to shoo us away.
Before I can say a word, Ralodan ushers both of us out, practically dragging me behind him. I see the short stout woman spot the other man. “Ahh, Admiral Myrdin Sylkas. I’m sorry about them. Novices do not know any better, despite that, they shouldn’t be in here disturbing the peace of the faithful, such as yourself.”
“Thank you, Mother, Chaetris. I appreciate it. Order is of the utmost importance to me,” he says as he stands up. I realize he’s not the tallest man. In fact, he’s even shorter than Mother Chaetris, if that can be believed.
“What an impetuous, stuck-up, arrogant cunt!” I spit out when we get far enough away.
“Lura! You shouldn’t say such things. She’s a noblewoman. A high-born. We’re just low-borns who have no right to even be in the same light as a high-born,” Biremeril says, his eyes wide in fear as his face pales in shock.
“Seriously, Biremeril? Didn’t you read what Terel wrote? He was talking specifically about her! Those who call themselves pure and demand that others follow in their own light,” I say, quoting what Terel wrote in secret, word for word.
“We don’t even know if that was Terel himself. Besides, it’s acrimony to speak ill of nobles. We are but humble low-borns of no real value. Our only purpose in life is to serve those who are above us. That is why I am here. To serve the best I can,” he says, and it looks like he’s on the verge of tears.
“Then ask yourself, why are you able to read the notes and not someone like her? Or Olizara?” I ask.
“I don’t know… I just… It is not our place to question them. Please don’t say such things,” he says, dropping his gaze to the floor.
“I have been treated like gutter trash my entire life by those who think themselves above me just for the simple fact that I was born in poverty and grew up in a tent. I won’t suffer it from anyone, especially not from someone who is a hypocrite like her.” I feel my face getting hot with anger as I fold my hands against my chest and glare back at the cathedral. I hate high-borns like her. “She is supposed to be of the Light and yet she acts to place herself above the rest because she was born in wealth with a fancy family name. She is nothing but…”
“Lura, that’s enough,” Ralodan says, cutting me off. Biremeril doesn’t say a word but instead walks away with his head hanging down. “Look, I understand where you are coming from, but you don’t know what Biremeril’s been through. He was raised as a slave. Born into it by his parents who were slaves. His entire life he was taught that his only purpose was to serve the noble high-borns. That it was their birthright to rule and his to serve. Your anger is certainly deserved, but don’t blame him for his misguided views and take it out on him. He only does what he believes is right.”
My eyes fall to the floor as I let out a breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that. I shouldn’t have said those things. But still, it isn’t right. And neither was what was done to him. Surely, he can see that slavery is wrong.”
“I agree with you, and I think in time he’ll come to see that as well, but don’t rush him. He needs time to understand that what he lived through was not how life should be. This freedom we have is new to him. He needs time to adjust,” Ralodan says. I nod as I look down the halls to the back of Biremeril as he walks away. What a truly awful way to be raised.
Be the first 100 to sign up for the Arathoon Newsletter and a FREE Digital copy of Shattered Souls when it is released!
