Quillion

“THREE MEN. JUST BEYOND THE palace borders.”  Father says, his words slurred. He’s more focused on the wine glass at his fingertips than the dead men he’s talking about. Topics like this always make my stomach churn, and I can see the same expression on Lahle’s face, although she manages to hide it better. I turn my attention to other things, like the ornate candelabra high up on the intricately designed ceiling of the dinner room, or the people seated at the dining table itself.  

Lahle sits directly opposite me, the topaz glow of the candles on the wall reflecting on her dark skin. Her embroidered silk kaftan sits loosely on her petite frame, and her pearled headdress is far too extravagant for her. Not that she minds, though. She wears her beads that carry the monarchy’s symbol, an encrusted fyrebird, with pride.  

Beside Lahle is Lady Niera, father’s sister. She is a plump brown skinned woman wearing a very breezy sequinned dress. She seems to be the only one listening with interest to what father is saying. Across from her is her son, who is just one year older than me. Deyko. He’s wearing the same attire I am, and much like Lahle, he’s also picking at his food.  

“What could have killed them?” Niera asks, starting up the conversation again. I shift in my seat, uncomfortable, and Lahle looks up at me, giving me a sisterly knowing look. I catch Deyko smile, his eyes not leaving the heap of rice on his plate.  

Father takes a delicate sip of his wine before setting it down. He gulps, laying back in his gold painted seat. “One of them was shot in the head with an arrow. Two were frozen.”  

“Frozen?” Niera exclaims. “How could that be?”  

Father shakes his head, obviously confused as well. I take a spoonful of rice, trying to focus on the taste and not the conversation at hand. However, they still continue.  

“I haven’t the faintest idea, Niera. However, one of the frozen corpses was shot with an arrow as well. They were part of the guard. We’re trying to find the culprits now.”  

“Culprits?” Niera chuckles. “You say that like the two broke a vase, Kalaghan. 

They murdered innocent people. That’s what they are. Murderers.”  

“I suppose so.”  

I suppose so? Father is definitely drunk. I can see the amusement in Lahle’s turquoise pupils as she takes a spoonful of food. She nearly chokes on it from laughter.  

“When was the murder?” she asks. 

“It happened two days ago. The bodies were discovered today.” Father takes a big swig, downing his glass. Snapping his fingers, he beckons a servant into the dining room. The young man in formal attire stands at attention.  

“Mu mi miiran mu.”  Father says drowsily. Get me another drink, I translate in my head. Niera stops the man before she can go.  

“Don’t get him another one. Cant you see he’s drunk enough as it is?” She snaps at the servant. Deyko and Lahle both laugh, but when Niera shoots them a death glare, they snap out of it and continue eating.  

“The two if you are twenty years old. Act like it.” She seethes, turning to father. He sighs, accepting his older sisters words as he stands droopily from his seat.  

“Come, Kalaghan.” She sighs, helping him stand. His golden gemstone crown  shifts to the side of his bald head as Niera carries him outside. The servant follows, closing the door behind him. Lahle and Deyko both burst into laughter.  

“Seriously?” I sigh. “The two of you are just....”  

“Loosen up, Quillion.” Deyko says, his voice tinted with laugher. These two are both a year older than me, and it never once feels like it.  

“I’m done eating.” Lahle says, her laughter subsiding as she drops her fork and knife onto her empty plate. She stands, smoothening non-existent wrinkles on her kaftan.  

“I’m going to the dome. Who’s following?” She asks.  

“I’m coming.” Deyko stands, his plate half empty. He pushes his chair in and the two of them, him and Lahle, stare at me knowingly.  

“What?” I ask.  

“Aren’t you coming? The dome is beautiful at night.” She says calmly. I haven’t been to the dome at night, but I know she and Deyko usually go. Usually, I go straight to my chamber after dinner.  

“We’re not taking no for an answer, Quillion.” Deyko says.  

“Right now we’re giving you the illusion of choice. Whether you say yes or no we’re pulling you to the dome. We want to show you something.”  

“What is it?” 

“It’s a surprise.” Deyko smiles. “The two of us have been practicing for weeks.”  “Weeks?” I ask.  

“Weeks.” Lahle confirms. “Get up your arse and lets go.”  

With no other option, I sigh and stand up. The two clap their hands in sarcasm as they leave the dining, sliding across the marble floors to the dome on the other side of the castle.  

The halls of the castle are lit by ornate diamond chandeliers that bathe them in a crystallized crimson light. They are tall, the ceilings seeming to stretch infinitely against the bare cream coloured walls. We walk down several flights of stairs, down twisting and turning pathways, until the ceiling gives way to glass.  

The glass roof starts twenty feet before we make it to the dome, and the hallways under it are only lit up by small strategically placed candles. Moonlight shines through the tempered glass, cross cut by the intricate, beautiful designs on it. From here, I can see snow falling in little flakes, and it reflects down onto the floor of the hall. As much as it annoys me to admit it, Lahle was right. This is ethereal.  

“Are you going to give me even a hint of what you’re planning?”  

“No.”  

“Not one.”  

Even though Lahle and I are siblings, it would make more sense if her and Deyko were more closely related. If we weren’t royalty and nobody knew who we were, people might think it was her and Deyko who were tied with their blood.  

After all this time, the dome still manages to take my breath away. Tall and wide, maybe fifty or sixty feet in length, the dome houses both fauna and greenery. Lahle opens the diamond gates and we take tentative steps inside.  

Bluebirds chirp and fly around the dome walls as larger animals like the bioluminescent Pawdwa fish swim around in tanks under the diamond floors below our feet. Their glow lights the night sky, far beyond the constraints of the dome.  

Vinery drapes down from the highest point of the dome, forty feet in height. The vines catch the silver light of the half moon and reflect it against the floor. There are turtles and a small species of drakon, the Tyurda drakon. They can’t fly, but they are very hyperactive. The place is so beautiful, it doesn’t even feel real.  

I stare in awe as lights from the hundreds of Pawdwa fish shine against Deyko, Lahle and me. The entire dome is bathed in light, from the moon, the stars and the animals themselves.  

A small drakon walks towards Lahle, rubbing its scaly brown skin on her leg and mewing. She laughs, opening her purse and flashing a small cut of bean cake at it. It licks its lips with its long tongue, staring at the cake. She sets it down and it starts to eat, hungry and excited.  

Deyko turns to meet me. “So, what do you think?”  

“It’s beautiful.” I say. “Like, really beautiful.”  

Lahle hits Deyko on his shoulder. “Lets show Quillion our trick.”  

“Now?”  

Lahle glares at him and he laughs, stepping away. “I was just joking.”  

She rolls her eyes but I see a hint of a smile form on her lips as she stands opposite him. The two stare at each other intensely, and then I know the show has begun.  

Lahle closes her eyes, raising her palms. Her brows furrow as she concentrates. I then realise what she’s doing—she’s trying to use her magic. She is trying to get her powers from the ether. It can be stressful, but she’s a master at most things, and magic is no exception.  

Droplets of liquid begin to form all around on the ground, pulled up from the Pawdwa tank underneath. Taking a deep breath, she raises her hands, and the droplets follow, rising up into the air. I watch in disbelief.  

The are hundreds or maybe thousands of water droplets circling the air around us. Her muscles bulge as she receives magical energy from the ether.  

She continues drawing power as she raises more from the ground. Everywhere I look, I am face to face with a small, translucent drop of water.  

“Do your thing, Deyko.” She says quickly. “I can’t keep this up for long.”  

Deyko begins as well. He closes his hands together, trying to receive his own energy. Collecting enough magical energy is a task that needs to be done with absolute calm, so I stay quiet. Once he’s done, he opens his hand, and a flicker of flame appears in them. The flame subsides, and I watch as he forms the unstable energy into a thread. He then passes this thread made of flame through the water droplets.  

“What?” I whisper to myself as Lahle tries to keep her droplets up for long enough. Deyko does it with skill, connecting each and every droplet with his thread of flames. When he’s done, I marvel at what they’ve created. The lights from the Pawdwa fish reflect in Lahle’s water droplets, and Deyko’s bright orange flame connects them all. Now this. This is ethereal.  

Groaning, Lahle lets go and her arms droop to her side. The droplets all spontaneously combust, splashing all three of us in ice cold water. Deyko’s fire follows, disintegrating. 

“That was great.” I say, walking up to the two of them. “How did you manage to do that?”  

Lahle sighs, her heart heaving. Magic takes a toll on the body. Luckily she has control. If she didn’t... 

“Practice.” Deyko says for her. She nods, licking her lips as she crashes down onto the wet diamond floor. She laughs, rolling around in the wetness. Deyko watches her, his eyes lighting up in amusement.  

“Are the two of you high?”  

“I’m not.” He says. “As for her, I cant say.”  

“I can hear the two of you, don’t forget.” She says, and I let out my hands. She grabs it, pulling herself up from the wetness. She sniffles, and for a moment, I take in the serenity. It’s been long since I’ve felt like this. Like the world wasn’t constantly around my shoulder. Watching.  

“Quill!” Deyko punches my stomach. “You show us something.”  

“I’m not.”  

“Come on, Quill.” Lahle says, scraping her wet hair with her fingernails. Lahle’s tiding is so beautiful, and Deyko’s flaming...the two are the perfect pair. The perfect everything.  

“No.”  

“Quillion—”  

“You can’t be that bad—”  

The feeling creeps up my shoulder, and suddenly it feels like I’m drowning again. The water creeps up my spine, and for a moment, half a second, the air leaves my throat.  

“I said no.” I say, and Deyko stops himself. The drakon stares, looking up from it’s now half eaten bean cake, and an air of stillness takes over the entire dome. I sigh, stepping backwards.  

“I’m going to bed.” I say, and neither Lahle nor Deyko say a word. They both watch me as I turn, walking over the wet diamond floors and out the iron gates of the dome. Even when I’m far away in the giant crimson lit halls of the palace, I still feel the water rushing into my lungs.  

The feeling of not being able to breathe.  

I PRETEND TO BE ASLEEP when I hear a knock at the metal doors of my chamber. The candle beside my bed, the only source of light in the room, flickers as the knocking comes again, incessant.  

After a few seconds, it stops. I lay back down on the soft mattress and not a moment later it starts again. A groan escapes my lips as I stand, walking towards the door and unlocking it. Lahle pushes it open and walks right in without invitation.  

I close the door. “I didn’t say you could come in.”  

“I don’t remember asking.” She replies, moving to the cushions by my windowsill. She sits, sighing as she stares out into the moonlight. For a few seconds it stays like that, her looking out the window and me waiting impatiently for her to say something.  

The room is quiet, and in that quiet my mind starts to drift. I try not to think of that day, but the memories still come rushing back. 

 The tides. The choking. The screams. I remember my mother’s name leaving my lips. I remember mine leaving hers. Then there was nothing. Pulling myself out of my mind, I begin to watch my surroundings. 

When I notice a tear slip out of Lahle’s left eye, I am quick to comfort her.  

“Lahle, are you—”  

“I-I’m fine.” She says, her voice throaty. She stretches in the cobalt cushions, uncomfortable as she wipes her tears. “Deyko and I planned that whole stunt to make me happy.”  

I cant help but laugh. “You did that for me?”  

She stares at me, eyes watering. “You’re my brother. I would do anything for you. But it seems I screwed up.”  

“Lahle, you didn’t. It was beautiful, and I’m sure you worked hard.”  

“We both did.” She says, wiping the new fresh tears on her cheeks. She sniffles, looking down into her palms. “You’ve just been so sad and distant lately. I thought maybe it was because of—”  

“Its not.” I say. She looks up at me, her eyes already telling me everything I need to know. She knows I’m lying.  

With a heavy breath, she continues. “I apologize if I messed up, Quill. I apologize if I made you think about that day. I just wanted you to be happy.”  

“I do too.” I say. “Its not your fault. Its on me. I shouldn’t have made you feel bad.”  

“This isn’t about me, Quillion. Its about you.”  

I don’t reply, and she doesn’t continue. A few minutes of silence feels like an hour as she stares out, absent minded. I don’t want to cry in front of her, so I bottle up my tears. After what happened, I don’t deserve the luxury of pain.  

“Do you remember when mom and aunt Niera would take us skiing down the palace slopes? I recall someone being extremely afraid. Like, deathly.”  

After a few seconds, I sigh, defeated. “It was a long slope.”  

“Long?” Lahle snickers. I can almost see the light of her turquoise eyes again. She continues staring outside as she speaks. Her voice is distant but warm. “The slope was six feet tall. I remember that the night before you came into my room because you were frightened and you wanted me to teach you how to ski.”  

“Lahle!” I laugh. “How do you still remember that?”  

“I never forget.” She laughs and fades into silence. Another few minutes pass before she stands slowly and walks towards me. The cream pyjama gown she wears is reflected against the painted red walls by candle light, and she leans into me, planting a light kiss on my left cheek. 

“See you tomorrow?”  

“Yeah.” I say, and she squeezes my palm before moving to the door. As she opens it, I call out to her. She turns, jewellery glistening in the vivid moonlight, and a sigh escapes my lips. “I’ll go to the dome tomorrow.”  A smile beams across her lips.  

“Seriously?”  

“Seriously.” I repeat, and she smiles again.  

“Ok, bye. Goodnight!” she squeals as she closes the room door behind her, walking out into the hallway. Even if I can’t make myself happy, at least I can make Lahle happy. That on its own is worth everything.  

Returning back to my bed, I cover myself up in the soft bulland fur blankets. I drift off, and the last thought I have before sleep takes over is Lahle’s smile and her turquoise eyes.  

“YOU’RE MEETING QUEEN MITALDRA TODAY?” I ask, tugging on the 

reins of my horse to slow her down. Father stops his horse a few meters in front of mine, and he takes time to adjust his crown before answering.  

“She’ll be here in the Afternoon. Afterwards she’s returning to Vahaltmir. We’ll be discussing some things.”  

“What things?”  

“Politics.” Father says, and kicks his horse so it starts trotting again. I do same, and our steeds move in unison down the cliff side and to the clearing. The snow left on the ground has heavily subsided, now its only a thin sheen. The hooves of our horses marsh against the underbrush below. It’s still cold, although not as cold as it was when I went outside a few days ago. I thank myself I didn’t stay out, I heard there was a snowstorm later in the evening.  

“What exactly made you build the palace on the side of a mountain?” I ask.  

 Even though I cant see his face, I can almost imagine father pursing his lips before answering. After a few seconds, he starts, his words still slightly slurring. I guess he’s still not fully sober yet.  

“The old palace was....too accessible to the public. Part of the great library was burnt down. I knew I had to do something, so I moved it further up the hills. I turned the old palace into a tourist location. Brings in coin now and then.” 

“Oryon is beautiful.” I say. The capital state of Gaia always had a wonderful charm to it. Father doesn’t respond, and I find myself wondering what sort of attack would result in us moving the palace to higher ground.  

We stay in silence for most of the ride. Its serene and peaceful, and other than those few moments at the dome yesterday, I haven’t free in a long time. It feels good to not have to look over your shoulder every five minutes.  

Making a U turn, we ride back up the cliff side to the palace. Armed guards flank the tall wrought iron gates, and they rise up just high enough so that we can squeeze our way through.  

My horse neighs, shaking its blond mane as I dismount it and keep it back in the stables. Before going back inside I slip it a carrot from my pouch. It gobbles it up hungrily and neighs again.  

“Quillion!” My father shouts from beyond the wooden walls of the stable.  

“Coming!” I yell back, giving the horse one final pat before I close my pouch and take after my dad.  

The grand double oak doors of the palace are opened by two guards standing beside it in bright red uniform, sword in hand. The stark difference between the cold outside and the warmth inside sends a shiver to my bones.  

The ceiling must be at least fifty feet high, with gold designs intricately woven on it. The diamond  stretches down like a constellation, exuding beautiful crimson light. On the walls are huge amethyst framed paintings of the kings that came before us.  

“I’ll be seeing your aunt in the throne room before my visit from Queen Nikka.” Father says, not even looking back at me. “Stay with your sister and your cousin, or practice with your sword. But no matter what you do, make sure you do not come into the throne room. Inform Lahle and Deyko as well.”  

I don’t have to say or do anything. He knows I’m listening, and in this land, his word is law.  

“I’ll go practice my sword.” I say, and father makes a grunting sound. As he heads towards the large flight of stairs before us, two sets of guards flank him. I hear the echo of his footsteps against marble, and stand in the hallway, waiting until they fade entirely.  

Once his footsteps are gone, I make a sharp left towards the dome. After a few minutes of walking down the dimly lit hallway I make a left, then another, brushing past a few servants carrying everything from laundry to clothing. It feels like forever when I finally notice the signature diamond ceiling of the corridor leading to the dome.  

Twenty feet later, my fingers tangle on the bars of the dome’s iron gates as I push them open. Deyko is there, and he’s in the middle of practicing his flaming. His flame dances around his skin as I notice him breathing heavily.  

Both him and Lahle are so good with their abilities. Lady Niera rarely ever uses hers, her winder magic almost never comes to any use, especially locked up in this castle, and father only ever lets his flames loose during meetings with the royal court. He says its to, in his own words, ‘show dominance.’  

“Cousin.” Deyko says, smiling. “What brings you here?”  

“I don’t know.” I say. “This place makes me happy.”  

He smiles, looking up at the vines draping down to the ground. The sunlight streams in from the panes, beautiful and bright. Outside, it looks peaceful. Inside, it feels peaceful.  

“I understand the feeling.” He says, sighing as he lets the tongues of flame on his body disintegrate into smoke. “Your mother did a good job designing this place.”  

I still cringe, hearing about her, but I try not to show it. Its been so long since she was here, walking these very halls with us. So long since I last heard her laugh. I shift, sighing as I look up at the sun. If Deyko noticed my facial expression, he doesn’t address it. Silently, I thank him for that.  

“Are we having a party without me?”  

Deyko and I both turn around. Not surprisingly, Lahle bounces into the room, her airy kaftan catching the artificial dome wind behind her. Her hair is up in an oiled and curly afro, and much unlike her, she is without her ornate pearl headdress.  

“After you left yesterday, Deyko and I practiced our sword fighting. He was good, but as with all things, I was better.” Lahle laughs, unsheathing her sword. 

“You lie so easily.” Deyko smirks, picking his sword from the ground beside him. The two stand across from one another.  

“Let me.” I say, pitching into the conversation.  

“Let you?” He asks, confused.  

“Let me fight you. Simple swordfight. Lets see who wins.” I say, a ghost of a smile on my lips. Lahle’s eyes lighten as she throws her sword to me. Deyko grips his with a force.  

“Shall we?” I plant my feet. 

He smiles, raising an eyebrow.  

“We shall.”  

ITS ALMOST SEVEN IN THE evening when Deyko, Lahle and I stop our practicing. I’m meant to have actual sword fighting classes tomorrow, Monday, and I dread them. Professor Igneous is as tough as he is cruel, and defeating him in a swordfight is no easy task. He taught my father his way around a blade, and now, rather unfortunately, he’s teaching me too.  

The stars are already out although the moon hesitates. The glow from the fish under our feet has taken over again, filling up our faces and the entire dome with multi-coloured beams of light.  

After catching my breath, Lahle pulls me up from the ground. Deyko is currently in the lead with the most matches won, I am second while Lahle trudges close behind.  

“I let you beat me.” Lahle jokes.  

“Definitely. That terrible scream you let out when I beat you was planned, then, I guess?”  

“Oh grow up.” She playfully punches my shoulder, sheathing her blade. I sigh, doing same as I focus on the animals moving around the glass cage. I wonder what it would be like to live in such peace forever.  

Suddenly, the double iron gates are slammed open with a loud clang. A female servant rushes into the dome, head tie tight against her head. She whimpers as she speaks.  

“The king, the king—” 

“What’s wrong with the king?” Lahle is the first to speak. The joy has been sucked from her tone, and instantly, even before the servant speaks, I feel the tension in the room shift. I stagger back, holding my chest. Deyko holds me still.. 

“He’s d—dead. He’s dead!” the old woman says, her voice trembling with fear. The three of us stand, fear clouding our hearts. I’m the first to take off.  

My feet pound against the tough diamond floors as I leave the dome, racing down the hallway towards the throne room. The servants and guards are in a frenzy, running about like crazy people. There is pandemonium.  

He’s really dead. He’s really dead.  

I hear Lahle and Deyko’s footsteps behind mine as I run. He cant be dead. He cant be dead.  

The three of us make our way up the several flights of stairs, down a number of expansive corridors and through the grand ballroom, several floors high, before we make it to the throne room. I push the doors open, not caring as the oak wood slams against the cream painted wall behind it.  

There he is. On his throne.  

Arrow lodged in his skull.  

Lahle crumples to the ground like a piece of paper, screams of agony echoing through the room. Tears already stain Deyko’s face as he tries to console her, but she doesn’t listen. She screams again, and I simply stare as vermillion coloured blood trickles from his skull to his eyes. His eyelashes are dipped in red, and his eyes are veiny and hollow. Those eyes. His eyes told a million stories. Now they lie, lifeless, caked in his own blood.  

“Oluwa mi o!”  Aunt Niera makes her presence known. Her heels click as she runs into the throne room, eyes wet with tears, burgundy kaftan flowing behind her. Much like Lahle, she lets out a gory scream, falling to the ground beneath her brother’s corpse.  

My voice comes out stronger than I intended. “Who did this?” 

I ball my palms into a fist, not letting my emotions take over. I turn around, my eyes leaving his body. Behind me is the captain of the guard, the Gaian crest, the fyrebird, embedded on his breastplate. Before he speaks, I find myself breaking down.  

“We don’t...we don’t know.” He says, responding to my question. “My men are searching the grounds. If we find anything, we will—”  

“How many men?”  

“What?”  

My eyes bore into his. “How many men are searching the grounds?”  

He stutters as he speaks, taking a tentative step back from me. “Fifteen, maybe twenty—” 

“Double them.”  

“But—” 

“I said double them!”  I scream, my voice ringing loud in the huge room. The man, Khan, simply nods before leaving, slamming the doors behind him. Lahle’s screams still dig into my heart, and I know if I turn I will fall. I can’t let that happen.  

Even though I refuse to turn around, the truth doesn’t change. I find myself back in the water again. Screaming. First, I clawed at my own throat for breath. Writhed. Kicked. Screamed.  

Then, just like that, there was nothing.