Strangely enough, the place she was used to now was no longer Calathis – but her old room in the Damaris castle. She missed the warm, fur blanket that used to adorn her bed and the arched windows that boasted the morning sun, the luxurious room around her hardly cozy in comparison. The chandelier hanging above her sparkled in the morning light, and she groaned, rolling over, losing the motivation to get up. Knowing Ambrose wasn’t anywhere near felt...strange. As if she was missing another part of herself she hadn’t realized she had lost.
Cressida burst into the room a moment later, a string of servants behind her before Aurelia could force herself to get out of bed.
“Morning,” Cressida said impatiently, throwing back the covers to expose Aurelia’s exposed legs to the cold.
“Hey,” She growled, snatching them back over her body. “What on earth is this about?” The servants got situated into a line, each with something different in their hands, all looking anxious.
Cressida rolled her eyes. “Get up. King Dorian has sent people to assist you in beginning to plan the wedding. These servants are here to take your measurements for the various gowns that will be made.” She gave Aurelia a pointed look. “And then, you will have the rest of the day to hash out the details.”
Aurelia glared at Cressida, her distaste evident of the plans that had been arranged for her. “Did King Dorian arrange for this to take all of my day?”
Cressida shrugged, indifferent to how Aurelia felt about the matter. “Come on. Let’s get you dressed.” She ushered her out of bed and into the dressing room where she quickly put together a stylish outfit of rich, expensive fabric.
Aurelia sighed and moved towards the servants as they quickly measured her waist and bodice, unrelenting as they took every measurement possible.
“Thank you, your Majesty,” They chorused. “We will have your gowns ready for you in the upcoming days.” They bowed deeply and followed each other out before Aurelia could even address their words.
Your Majesty.
As she was to be queen.
Cressida stood at the doorway. “The vendors from the village are in the morning room, if you’ll follow me,” She stated, motioning towards the door.
“Vendors?” Aurelia asked, unmoving.
Cressida sighed. “Yes, vendors. For the wedding. Flowers, decorations....”
It felt as if Dorian were shoving the wedding down her throat. “What of my morning training? I’ll have no time before Lorcan leaves for the day.” Aurelia responded pointedly, the tightnesss in her chest growing.
Cressida tilted her head. “The vendors are already here. Maybe tomorrow.”
Maybe tomorrow. As if she would let them rid her of all of her joys, no matter how few they were.
Aurelia reluctantly followed Cressida through the private royal hallways until they arrived at the morning room, doing everything in her power to keep her emotions at bay. Though she could despise the man behind it all, she would do everything in her power to make sure the village profited off of...whatever this was.
“Hello,” Aurelia said kindly as she entered the room, wincing as the group of villagers all stood and bowed deeply.
“Oh, it’s so wonderful to see the woman who has stolen Dorian’s heart,” An older lady said warmly. “Truly. He’s such a sweet man. I’m so glad you’ve gotten to see him for who he is on the inside.”
Aurelia coughed to cover the laugh that surfaced at her words. “Oh, have you met him?” Aurelia said nicely as she went to sit in the chair next to the fire, facing the group of people that had come to advertise their services.
“Well, yes,” The older lady continued. “I was once a nanny in this castle. I raised that boy. Wouldn’t even kill a bug, that man.”
How ironic, then, that now he kills thousands with no hesitation, Aurelia thought. “Very well,” Aurelia said. “What have you come to sell to me for our...” She swallowed her disgust. “Beloved wedding?”
The older lady grinned and turned to grab a few items she had brought with her before presenting Aurelia with a vase of white roses. “Flowers, your Majesty,” She pronounced, leaning forward to place them in her lap. “You know far and wide that Damaris is not a land of plentiful plant life, but I have taken it upon myself to grow you the only flowers grown here – wildflowers and roses.”
She put another bunch in Aurelia’s lap, this time various wildflowers, and finally, black roses. “Seeing as you’ve left the land of rich vegetation and flowers to come to Damaris for the land and people of the man you love, I thought those would be perfect for you.”
Aurelia had to swallow the lump in her throat as she looked down in her lap at the small, wilting flowers, blinking back tears. How could anyone think she would leave Calathis for a place so dreary as Damaris? “Thank you,” She choked out. “Those would be lovely.”
The lady nodded encouragingly and took her seat, a man standing up next. “It would be my greatest honor if your Majesty allowed me to make the cake for the wedding,” He announced with a toothy grin. “What is your favorite flavor, your Majesty?”
Aurelia forced a smile. “Why...I think Dorian would love a surprise, don’t you?”
The man chuckled nervously. “Your Majesty does not want to choose?”
All of these choices – it was too much. She felt as if every answer was the wrong answer. She didn’t want any of it. No flowers, no cake, no celebration. There was nothing to celebrate.
It felt as if the room were slowly shrinking and Aurelia couldn’t get enough air as the group of people continued to talk of endless preparations for her wedding. She stood abruptly, the flowers on her lap tumbling to the floor.
“Make the cake vanilla. I want the colors to be every color of the rainbow, just like Calathis. Every color, everywhere.” Aurelia said quickly as she bent over to pick up the flowers that had fallen. “I’ve got to run, now....” She said as she ran out of the door, catching Cressida off guard as Aurelia sprinted down random passageways, bursting through doors until she finally found one that led outside.
In the frigid air, she finally felt as if she had enough room to breathe, her nails clawing helplessly at the thick fabric on her chest. She collapsed to her knees, her chest heaving as the snow fell around her.
Her body shook, but not from the cold. Instead came unrelenting anger at everyone – at Ilaria, for bringing her to this horrid place, at Dorian for wanting to kill her grandmother, at the Council, for not giving her mother help, and at Ambrose, for leaving her. Everything was too much.
After awhile, she forced herself to stand back up, slowly making her way back into the castle. Without a moment’s hesitation, she turned towards the training corridors instead of her new rooms, escaping the guards that roamed the hallways by slipping through abandoned rooms. When she arrived, to her relief, it was blissfully empty. In her fancy attire and all, she grabbed a sword and began swinging at the dummy, her mind stained red.
Hours later, Aurelia finally dropped the sword, the wooden dummy in front of her littered in large gashes. Her gown was soaked in sweat and the elaborate updo of Cressida’s making had loosened, pieces now framing Aurelia’s face.
No one had come looking for her and Aurelia remained determined to be left alone for the rest of the day, no matter what Dorian had planned. Her mind pondered where else she could go to be left alone when suddenly the memory of the tower surfaced.
Without hesitation, Aurelia was on the move, quietly making a few wrong turns and hiding whenever footsteps echoed down the hall, determined to avoid interaction at all costs.
Eventually she arrived at the long, never-ending spiral staircase that Ambrose had brought her to once before. It was perfect – not only was it tucked away, but it housed all of the books of knowledge that were essential to Calathis’ survival. Hiking up her skirts, she began the long trek upwards.
Her chest was heaving by the time she arrived at the top of the twenty story climb, yet the room was locked. She leaned down, looking at the padlock a moment before summoning her magic and heating it just enough to melt the iron. To her pleasant surprise, it worked, and she swung the door forward.
The beauty of the tower took her in once more – the winter sunlight filtering in through the windows, reflecting through the crystals scattered around the room. She rushed forward towards the various stacks of books, skimming the titles.
There.
Books regarding in depth crystal magic and lunar magic were stacked, hidden behind other books, and Aurelia quickly grabbed ahold of them and heaved them to the desk. Plopping down, her mind whirled as she began to read.
Though as of late dark magic had plagued the reputation, lunar magic used to be just as mystical as solar magic was now, with ancient sorcerers founding Damaris as a land of worshipping the stars. At one point, they studied the possibility of flying.
Aurelia continued to read the book over more specifities of lunar magic before she turned to the next one, the focus being blood magic, the only book in the entire room she could find that more than mentioned it. Though there was a possibility she would get nothing at all but more knowledge from this escapade, the chance of finding information that could save Calathis kept her motivated and turning the pages.
Blood magic.
The practice of sacrificing any magic-born’s blood to accomplish a particular goal or desire, summoning a much stronger power than one individual’s magic alone. It was a dangerous game – the book went into immense detail regarding individuals that had gone crazy, draining themselves of their blood all for the taste of power and the temptation of desire.
It wasn’t always as simple as it seemed, either – though a spell could be cast with blood magic, it did not always guarantee that what you imagined is what will occur. The book foretold of other stories of spells gone wrong because of lack of clarity, or the outcome much more gruesome than intended.
The consequences themselves, too, were dangerous, for anything built on something false – a sacrifice for a desire – was often twisted. Blood magic was nothing like lunar or solar magic in that way: it was playing with fate.
One thing was clear – blood magic was not for the faint-hearted. It was something few magic-borns worked with because of the consequences.
Aurelia shuddered. The only consolation the book offered was that though users of blood magic always tried to tempt fate, a feat such as that is impossible. Destiny would never be changed.
Aurelia wasn’t sure if that made her feel better, or worse. She knew her grandmother would never risk using such dark magic, yet what of Dorian? What could he do, what terrors could he inflict if he practiced such cruelty?
She shut the book, trying to get the image of Dorian destroying Calathis out of her head, instead turning to the book over crystal magic. If she could find out how to discover whether Dorian was using crystal magic to manipulate the minds of those here, perhaps she could find a way to stop it. Or at least, stop him before it was too late.
She opened the book, her foot tapping impatiently against the floor, looking in vain for a solution that wasn’t there. Instead of the limitations of crystal magic, the book went into enormous depth on how to read crystals – namely, how to both place power within a crystal, and how to distinguish them with what power they withheld. The color and kind of crystal played a large role in what magic it could withstand as well its possibilities, all essential understandings in lunar magic. Though it wasn’t what she was looking for, she continued to skim the directions, her curiosity piqued by the unique form of lunar magic that presented itself.
Looking over to the bookcase filled with crystals, the glowing objects lured her to them once more. They sparkled beneath the sunlight, beckoning Aurelia forward, and she found herself walking over and staring at them in wonderment.
One in particular stood out more than the others – a clear, white quartz, which the book had explained as most often holding magic dealing with mind-control and mental reading. She felt as if she was in a trance as she leaned down and picked it up in her hand, gently cradling it in her palms, her eyes inspecting it.
Aurelia felt a strange pull from deep within as she held the crystal. It was as if she could feel the magic swirling and awakening beneath her touch – as if it recognized her.
But how?
It was impossible. There was not a single woman in history with the gift of lunar magic. Instead, women were masters of solar magic, arguably the more beautiful of the two. She shook her head, trying to clear it of the thoughts that kept running through her head, her heart racing.
Closing her eyes, she forced the heavy waves in her mind to calm, taking a deep breath, slowly exhaling. But then, she froze.
For deep in her soul, right along her golden thread, was another: this one a glistening silver.
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