— City of Velloch, Basan, Medyulana —
Hours later, and still, Idelle could not shake the dream from her mind. Though, if she was being honest with herself, she knew, deep in her heart, that it hadn't been a dream at all. With a steadied breath, she tried to concentrate on the steps of the gauntlet beneath her. Blindfolded, she needed her wits about her as she danced across the raised wooden pillars as her mother's magic whirled around her, conjured foes trying to force her to the ground.
She felt her father's presence though she was unable to see him through the cloth. He stood away from the gauntlet, watching her with an assessing gaze. Though Idelle abhorred violence, she understood that knowing how to defend one's self was essential. The worlds were full of dangerous people that would not hesitate to harm her and Lulu. Idelle couldn't cower behind Lulu and expect her friend to protect her. She had trained with her father and others in order to understand self-defense and the essentials of armed combat.
For her magic, however, there was no one for her to hone her skill. Her mother had taught her when she was little, but now, her skills surpassed anything her mother knew. Save for Ori, Idelle didn't know anyone with her level of power. She missed talking to Ori. Her cousin was the only one who understood, who knew how to make her feel normal. She was the only one who could teach her how to hone her abilities, but Ori wasn't there. Her own troubles kept her far from home.
"Mistake."
The single word from her father was uttered a half second before one of the conjurations slammed into her side, sending her spiraling to the ground. She hit with a hard thud, the wind knocked from her lungs. Slowly peeling away the blindfold, she winced at her father's piercing gaze. It was a simple mistake, one she shouldn't have made.
Her father stepped toward her, his tall, willowy frame more toned than the average male elf. His years spent as the right hand of the Draagan king, Rostgarr, had shaped him into a deadly weapon. Though he wielded a massive greatsword, he didn't need a physical weapon to kill. The Draaga had trained him to be a powerful, unstoppable force that could contend with the deadliest of foes. Ishara had feared him when the empire was whole, referring to him as 'Rhakarr,' the dark elf.
Her father resembled Aunt Teryn in a lot of ways. They both had raven hair, his cut short in the draagan custom, warm honey-colored eyes that marked a pureblood Light Elf, and soft, unblemished alabaster skin. His pointed ears stuck out a little further than her aunt's, and his way of movement was far clunkier, his elven grace discarded in favor of Draagan power. But his training with the Draaga, his years of diligence, he had passed to her. More than once, it was what kept her alive.
"How many times do I have to tell you?" her father shook his head as he reached down to help her to her feet. "Don't tackle the gauntlet when your mind is elsewhere."
"I know... I just...needed the distraction."
"Tell me."
He didn't warn her before a well-aimed jab sailed toward her face. Idelle was quick enough to avoid his strike, but not fast enough to avoid the second blow to her stomach. She groaned, staggering back.
"Dead." Was his only assessment.
Idelle took a breath, trying to balance her words with her movements. "I Walked again last night." She barely avoided his next attack.
"Tell me about it."
She recounted it all. She had heard the whispers call to her as she readied herself for bed the night before. The whispers always came before she Walked. Some nights, when she knew the whispers would take her away, she would keep herself busy until they quieted. But the journey through the veils had taken its toll on her. She had been unable to resist their gentle lull as they guided her to sleep.
But on those nights, she never truly slept. She Walked. A part of her left her body and traveled out beyond the worlds. Her mother had called it 'walking the stars,' an archaic gift given only to those whose magical ability resembled the Ancients. Long ago, her mother explained, it was believed the gods granted the gift, but there was very little known about the ability.
Last night, she had found herself far from Medyulana. There was no way to know how far she had Walked, but, somehow, she had known she had gone further than ever before. She had found herself in a strange world filled with utter silence.
She had wandered barren metal streets that spread through a silent city that once must have filled its citizens with wonder. Everywhere she walked, metal buildings lined the cracked and broken streets, towering toward the still sky. Once, they would have impressed with their beauty, but now, the buildings were crumbling, pieces torn away, façades blackened, windows shattered, debris strewn everywhere.
What had happened there?
The further she walked, the more she was filled with the immeasurable sorrow of that place. There were some buildings that still stood proudly, not a single crack in their foundations, while others were completely leveled. Tables and chairs remained outside a few of the buildings, a seating area for some sort of recreational event. Lavish and common garments were displayed in a few windows that were shattered and covered with grime.
Debris and soot lined her every step, evidence that this place had met a violent and sudden end. The silence that gripped the city had sent a tremor down her spine, but Idelle had continued to walk, something compelling her to keep going. There was something she needed to see, the voices had whispered.
The street had led to a wide main square that seemed to be the center of the city. A whisper in her ear had made her turn. A bright, violent stain of red on a set of stairs caught her eye. It was across the square, leading to what would have been a lavishly decorated building in its day. Even now, it exuded an authority that was difficult to deny, its craftsmanship unparalleled even in this once beautiful place. But she had been unable to appreciate its splendor, drawn, instead, by the steps stained crimson. She had only made it a few strides before she realized why the sight unsettled her so. The blood was bright, vibrant against the debris.
It was fresh.
And then, Idelle had made it to the stairs and looked down on a sight she would never forget. There, sprawled out on the steps, glassy, dead eyes staring, unseeing, into the bright blue sky that passed overhead, was Lulu. The wind had rustled her mahogany brown hair, her features frozen forever as she lay there, forgotten, in the silent world. In the center of her chest, there was a gaping wound too gruesome for Idelle to look at directly.
Her heart had skipped a beat as she knelt at her friend's side and touched her cold, pale cheek. And then, the first sound touched the world. It was nothing extravagant, but its sudden presence in this silent space was jolting. A startled, disbelieving gasp. Idelle looked up sharply to find Ori there, a look of terror on her face.
That was where her journey had ended.
She was sweating, her breath short as she faced her father. By his count, she had 'died' several times over, but he seemed satisfied with her abilities and pulled away. His gaze was tender as he looked at her, his concern evident in his pinched brow. She knew what he was thinking about. This was not the first time she had foreseen someone's death.
Her powers were beyond the ability of the average mage, rivaled only by her cousin, Ori. Idelle was a child with the blood of every race, and the sinuous white markings that curved along her russet, reddish-brown skin marked her as the promised daughter of Medyulana, who would, one day, tear the stars asunder. It was in these moments, when her powers spoke of the unlimited potential within her, that she truly felt alone. She knew her father's and mother's concern came from a place of love, but sometimes, when they looked at her, she felt like a monster.
Strong hands cupped her cheeks and guided her face upward. She hadn't even realized she had looked away, her eyes downcast as she lost herself to her spiraling thoughts. Her father looked her in the eye, his voice firm when he spoke.
"You are not a monster. Never think such things," he pressed his forehead to hers. "You have the most beautiful heart in all the worlds, Idelle Ralia. You were brought into this world out of love, and there is so much good you will do. I worry for you, yes, but it is never worry over who you are or what you will do. It is worry of what the world will ask of you. The world is cruel, and if you let it, it will take everything from you. But you are strong, beautiful, and good. There is no end to the goodness in your heart, Idelle. Never forget that."
"I love you, papa," she whispered back as he surrounded her in a loving hug.
"What you saw isn't set in stone," he returned in a hushed voice. "Lulu can be reckless, but she isn't stupid. And, she has you to watch over her. I know you would never let any harm come to her."
"What if I'm not strong enough?"
"You, Idelle Ralia, are one of the strongest mages to ever walk the worlds. There is nothing you can't do, no future you cannot prevent, no evil you cannot destroy. Your destiny is yours to make. Whatever prophecy speaks of, it is you who will decide the path you take."
*************
Velloch. Just thinking the name made her want to puke until it made everyone around her uncomfortable. It was a predominately human settlement, established by those left behind in the Draagan homeland when the empire collapsed. Once, there had been bridges that allowed for easy interstellar travel, but they had been destroyed the day the empire fell, leaving many stranded in distant worlds.
While the city itself was largely peaceful, there were still many imperial loyalists that lived in Velloch that spouted racist words at the 'outsiders' that visited their streets. Though the Draaga were the natives to Medyulana, there were many humans who still looked down on them because of how different they looked from the 'normal' races of other worlds. When Valdornne had conquered the Draaga, they had labeled them 'demons,' an offensive racial slur that was still used by those who believed the empire would survive. That racism, however, was slowly on the decline, annoyingly thanks to the Path of Light as it spread its influence throughout Medyulana.
She would never admit to the Path doing anything good for anyone.
A long sigh escaped her as she found herself outside the Palace of the Stormborn. The ancient seat of power in Medyulana, it was believed to have been built by one of the most celebrated figures in their history. Remembered only as the Stormborn, she had come to Medyulana in the clutches of a great dragon, bleeding and on the brink of death. Betrayed by a lover, she had sought to bring peace to her own world but faced ruin instead. The Stormborn had come to Medyulana with naught but a single dragon, but in only a few short years, she had conquered the entire world. Medyulana had thrived under her leadership, rising into a golden age that still echoed throughout the realm.
Over the centuries, her buildings and changes had been overshadowed by Ishara, but her memory was far from forgotten. The Palace of the Stormborn had always been a powerful symbol, which was why it was no surprise that the Path of Light sought to have it to help to elevate their authority. The Draaga were historically skeptical of any outside influence. From money to clothing to religion, if it came from beyond their borders, it was likely to meet resistance. Still, The Voice, the preeminent figure within the Path of Light, had managed to garner enough good will with the locals of the province of Basan to gain the much-coveted chambers within the Palace of the Stormborn.
It was an extraordinary sight. The palace itself was a towering beast of black, sparkling stone that stretched toward the sky. Two long, curved staircases reached up from the wide square to the main doors that were crimson in color. Spires twisted elegantly upward, reflecting beautifully beneath the warm light of the sun, and perched atop the highest parapet was the sigil of the Stormborn, a mighty dragon melting a field of snow.
Lulu made her way inside, mindful not to be noticed by any of the guards stationed throughout the palace. This wasn't her first trip. She knew her way around, where each guard was posted, and the routes they took. Her father, Corlis Marcellus, had been her Uncle Baloren's right hand man throughout their time in the Imperial Army. He had been an infiltration agent with spies and contacts scattered throughout the empire all at his command. He knew his art better than anyone, and he had taught Lulu those skills well.
She made her way to the top floor easily, without any notice from the guards. Lost amongst the winding halls, there was a single white door at the end of one quiet corridor. On either side of the door were two statues. One was of the Savior. Carved of white alabaster stone, the figure stood tall and proud, her hands stretched out to help those that needed her. Her hair was long and wavy, a dreamer flower threaded into her hair, and on her shoulder was perched a single, solitary raven.
Every time she saw the statue, Lulu was reminded of how creepy it really was. Though the statue predated her, it bore an eerie resemblance to her cousin, Ori. They had captured her likeness exactly, from the style of her hair to the curve of her nose, and even the kindness of her eyes. Between her power and her looks, it was no wonder why the Path had been so quick to name Ori their Savior reborn.
The other statue, however, evoked only anger and disdain from Lulu. It was of the Prophetess Kellaran, her hands wreathed in flame as cold, emotionless eyes stared out into the world. As Lulu passed the statues and stepped into the chambers beyond the white door, she couldn't resist nicking a small piece off the one of Kellaran, as she did every time, with the dagger strapped to her thigh. Yet each time she returned, it was repaired.
The chamber was quiet. Inside was one of the Path's chapels, a wide-open space for those gathered to join in prayer. Stained glass windows lined the walls depicting scenes from The Broken Song, and, at the front was a long, ornate altar, at the center of which was a bowl of burning blue fire.
Lulu's eyes skipped over the details with little interest. The sooner she found her father, the likelier she would be able to avoid The Voice. As luck would have it, she would have to go no further. Her father sat at the far end of the room, his back pressed against the stone wall as he looked at something in his hand. It was a portrait of her dad, Orik, who had drawn it himself as a gift for Corlis on his birthday. She remembered her father making fun of him for drawing a self-portrait for his birthday, but it had remained in his possession every day since. Even now, he couldn't let it go.
"Hello," was all she could manage when she found herself standing there, looking down at him.
Her father's head shot up, so lost in thought that he hadn't seen her approach. His eyes went wide, a disbelieving laugh escaping him as he jumped to his feet and engulfed her in a warm embrace. Lulu stood utterly still for a moment, uncertain she wanted to lean into such a gesture, but as his familiar smell surrounded her, she found herself unable to resist. It reminded her of childhood days when she hadn't been as angry. Her eyes closed in contentment, her arms encircling him as she breathed him in.
By the time they released each other, her arms ached, but the discomfort was forgotten in the wake of his glowing smile. Tenderly, he brushed her long brown locks behind her shoulders. Her father was averagely tall with light, sandy brown hair and kind blue eyes that seemed to see every hidden secret in an instant. He was a handsome man with no scars and few wrinkles, though she considered the latter a bad thing. Since her dad had disappeared, he rarely smiled, and she was relatively certain he hadn't laughed, really laughed, since that fateful day in the Garden.
"Look at you," he said softly, his eyes shining in the gentle light that filtered through the colored windows. "More beautiful every time you visit. I'm glad to see you safe."
Lulu nodded. "And you? Are you well?"
"There's no need to worry about your father," he avoided her question as he guided her to the floor to sit beside him on the colorful pillows usually reserved for prayer. "Tell me about your travels. I want to hear about everything you've been up to since we last spoke."
Since they last spoke—Lulu tried to recall that day. It was— over two years ago now? She winced internally. She hadn't meant to stay away that long. Truly, she didn't. But things were strained between the two. They had both chosen their own paths long ago. Even still, she loved her father dearly, though she rarely told him so.
She told him of her travels, of all the things she had seen and done with Idelle at her side. Her father listened in rapt attention, his excitement evident in every question he asked and every nod of his head. She lost track of the time as she sat there with her father, recounting every story she recalled. It was peaceful, reminiscent of the days when she was little, and her fathers had smiled with warmth and happiness. It was rare to have these moments now that one father was gone, and the other was lost to the clutches of madmen.
"Good evening, Elusia Vale."
That voice. That horrible, disgusting, miserable voice. She hated it. With every fiber of her being, she hated it, and one day, she would silence that voice forever. Lulu stopped her story mid-sentence to glare up at the unwelcome newcomer. The Voice, the highest authority of the Path of Light and Creator's mouthpiece. He smiled down at her as though he was her friend. It made her want to punch babies.
"And that's my cue to leave," Lulu shot to her feet with a scowl and pushed past The Voice with more force than necessary.
"Lulu..." her father tried, but she wasn't listening.
"There is no need to leave, daughter of Corlis," The Voice spoke softly. It riled her anger, stopping her dramatic exit in its tracks. "I know better than to sing The Broken Song to you. I simply wished to see if you were well. I know my Shadow worries about you on your journeys. It is good to see him smile again."
"Fuck you." Lulu whirled around, her eyes alight with fury and hatred. "He doesn't smile because of what your Creator did."
"He is everyone's creator, Mistress Elusia."
She took several long strides to reach him, a single finger poking him in his golden robe clad chest. "One day, I'm going show my father what you are. I'm going to stick my sword through your skull, and then, I'm going to find your Creator and repay him for what he did to the best dad that ever lived. The Path of Light will shit itself before I die."
The Voice said nothing as she stormed from the chapel. Her father's voice rang after her, chasing her through the halls of the palace and out into the streets below. Lulu never slowed her steps and never looked back as she tried to leave this place of evil and heartache. But outside, in the shadows of the palace, and beneath the brewing storm, her father finally caught up to her, a single hand catching her left wrist. He forced her to face him. The words were tumbling from her mouth before she could stop them.
"I'm going to find him." She met her father's pained gaze. "I have a new lead on how to locate the Garden. I'm going to find it and bring him home."
Corlis let out a long sigh and shook his head. "Lulu..."
"No. This is what I'm doing. I don't care what you have to say. I'm going to find the Garden."
"You know, I would be overjoyed if your dad came home, Lulu. You're quick to forget that I loved him, too, that he changed my life in ways you don't understand..."
"And yet, you still betrayed him! You turned your back on him and joined the cult responsible for what happened to him! They engineered everything! They made certain that when the time came to seal away the Garden of Starlight forever that he'd be the one to do it. I spoke with Kellaran that night! Idelle read her thoughts and still you...!"
"Lulu, it's not like that," he shook his head sadly. "She didn't design for him to stay. All Kellaran was responsible for was ensuring that you got to grow up with at least one father."
"But I didn't, did I?" she shouted in his face, drawing several curious glances. "Because you devoted yourself to the Path of Light! You tried to let them brainwash me and our whole family! I barely saw you after you joined them!"
"I am the Shadow of the Creator. I have responsibilities that..."
"Your responsibility was to your family! To dad and to me! You should have been out there searching for a way to bring him home, like I've been! How many leads, how many rumors, have I chased down to try and bring him home? I'm doing what you should have done! This was your job as a father, and you failed!"
Corlis recoiled as though she had slapped him in the face. She might as well have. It would have been kinder. Her words were hasty and thrown with the intent of causing him pain. It was unworthy, she knew. He closed his eyes and took a deep, weary breath that made her heart ache. She regretted her words. But she couldn't take them back. She wouldn't.
"I did what I could, Lulu. I traded in every favor with every contact I had to try and find a way back to the Garden. I pleaded with Kellaran and those of the Path with enough magic to accomplish the impossible, but it couldn't be done. The Creator chose Orik to guard the Garden for a reason. Even if we don't understand it, there was a reason he was chosen. The Garden is beyond our reach, for good reason. You know what is in there, and now...too much time has passed, Lulu. I know you don't want to think it, but your dad is gone. He couldn't have survived so many years locked away."
"You don't know that."
"I do. It's been nearly twenty years. Even if you find the Garden and are able to get inside, you'll just be finding a skeleton. He's gone, Lulu, and he wouldn't want you to devote your life to an unobtainable cause."
She ground her teeth together, the truth of his words impossible to ignore. But she would do it anyway. "I'm bringing him home, one way or another. And when I tell him about Kellaran and the Path of Light, you better be ready to explain yourself."
"I wish for that day, Lulu. I really do."