Ritual

Chapter 1

I thought I've cried all my tears out at my father's funeral, but being here, standing before my mother's grave in the castle crypts, made me cry rivers I thought never existed anymore. I couldn't believe it at first, because it all seemed surreal to me, how my life turned upside down in an instant, but eventually, I knew I had to accept the reality of all this, that mother is gone.

After a long and dark stairway, lit up only by torches on the wall, you would find yourself in the crypts, where all the royal families are buried when they die. We had quite an ancestry that ruled over Krurian, and so you had to pass through some graves to reach where my parents now lie: under tombs with, in the dark, with their two children standing before them, eyes puffed from weeping too much.

Even though there wasn't any ventilation down in the crypts, it felt surprisingly cold. I wore my black jacket around me, with faux fur lining the edges of the collar. I sniffed, and the sound of it was so prominent in the bleak atmosphere.
I wrapped my arm around Esmee and pulled her towards me. "It's just you and me now," I said and hearing myself utter those made me realize how much I wasn't ready for life alone.

Esmee looked at me, and it was clear she was concerned. "What's going to happen?"
"We'll keep moving forward. I will handle Krurian, and you will be there to help me."
A tear rolled down her cheeks, and I knew she didn't like that. I felt an unwillingness to do anything as well knowing that both my parents are gone. There was hurting inside of me, a pulsing pain of grief and Saudade that keeps coming in waves that get stronger every time. I was completely lost, and I had nobody to lift me out of my descent the way my mother and father used to, the only kind of help I would ever want.

It was after the funeral, where the public mourned in front of mother's coffin, and expected the fall of Krurian once its leaders have fallen, and two young, naïve people would take over. I saw Aizrill standing alone in the crowd, but I couldn't pay any attention to him, not now. The funeral was nothing short of distressing and melancholic. It brought back my memories of father's, which didn't happen long ago. But if there's one thing that's been on my mind lately, it's that I don't know what to do.

I stayed in my room that night, listening to the sound of death that reverberated everywhere around me: silence, stillness, nothingness, misery. Every time I lay down, I longed for my mother's arms hugging me, her laughter, her love, to just feel it once more and forever.
The sky was a dark blue outside my window where I tried to sleep with my arm behind my head, but I just couldn't. My thoughts keep coming back to that note my mother gave me. It was the last thing she did before she died, and I kept wondering what the numbers were for. 51075. Maybe they were coordinates? An address? An amount of something?

I picked it up from my bedside, under the light of my lamp that glowed orange throughout my room. It reminded me of Anika's house, the house of the two seers. I remembered how that strange gemstone floated in the middle of the house, casting a mystifying light. Somehow, I felt an inkling of anger for them, because they could have told me a way to rescue my mother or my father. But I guess I couldn't blame them. The future happens, and so I should just let it.

I held the note in my hands, thinking far and wide, deep and thoughtfully, until an idea came forward in my head: the one thing that must always be secure is money, and the royal treasurer keeps it in a safe, locked with a code. I didn't know what the code was, but maybe this could be it. Maybe mother wanted me to inherit all the money? Or maybe she left something there for me, something important, which was unlikely, considering that her last times consisted of her being frantic and sickly and absent.

I immediately got up, and I instantly realized that my legs were exhausted and weak like noodles. It took me some time to realize it wasn't exhaustion, but the pusillanimity of my mind taking over my whole body. I brought myself back up to my bed, where I stayed, and wandered in my thoughts. I'll go to the royal treasurer tomorrow. For now, my eyelids grew heavy as they slowly shut, and I was longing to get away from this world for a while, and just be somewhere far away from all this pain.

The next day, I came rushing outside of my room, on the way to the treasurer's office. The note was in my pocket, even though I didn't need it anymore. The numbers were marked in my head, but I guess I've been keeping it as a token from my mother, which was strange, but I held on to it for now.

As I passed my mother's room, I noticed it was ajar, even though it was at the end of the hall, and I stopped in my tracks to look at it. Somewhere inside, a light was on, and I walked towards it to open it and see who was inside.

More light flooded into the room, and as I scanned the room, I saw Esmee sleeping peacefully on mother's bed. She was in her night dress, and she held the blanket dearly to her face. I sighed and closed the door behind me. I walked to her side, careful not to wake her, and caressed her hair. Even now, it was jarring to think that we are the only ones left in our family. It was only us who would have each other's back even when the world was against us. But Esmee is strong, fearless, brave, and occasionally a bit ruthless, even when her emotions often get the best of her, and I recalled how she cried when Doctor Gonro was trying to save mother's life the other day. I have confidence in her.

I looked around the room, and the whole place gave me very bad memories. I noticed that on the wall, was a painting of us, in vivid colors and striking detail, that it was bizarre and dreamlike just looking at it. We were standing side by side in a line, from father going all the way to Esmee, and our names were written below us in stunning calligraphy. I gazed at it for some time and then noticed something strange about it.

I pulled out my note, the excitement building up inside me was too great that I lost confidence in my memories. 51075, and I looked at the names written on the painting. 5 for Petar, 10 for Elisabetta, 7 for Alexios, and 5 for Esmee. It corresponds to the number of letters in our names.

I stood back, just staring at the painting, wondering what mother would have wanted me to do with it. I looked at it in all of its aspects and noticed that it was slightly tilted, leaning a bit too much to the right. It has been tampered with. Something must be behind it.