The King Trials 2: Beyond.

Seated on the armchair before a slumbering hearth.

A bare parchment sits on my lap, pressed on a hardboard. A feathered quill in my grasp as I glide my bandaged hand over to the right to dunk the tip into an inkwell on the small table beside me. Harvested from oak galls. Since there is no sunlight to read the scroll with. I will rewrite it all from memory.

After the Ice Erus denied me. The entire ‘outing’ ended brusquely due to the abrupt change in his demeanour. Little did they know that somehow, that was my fault. We returned to Aelvebore as promised. The decision of a possible future union with our dominions rests in the hands of Nivalis’s powerheads.

Animosity builds up within, pressurised air begging to be set free.

I release a few drawn-out breaths.

It is difficult to tell time here. It’s always dreary and dark. But from what I can gauge, it’s late evening; the cusp of nightfall. Despite it, I am already dressed comfortably in a chemise night gown, a loose-fitting robe swathed over it.

Recalling every fateful line, I etch them on the parchment from top to bottom.

Darkness shall cover the face of the realms; the cause of its own destruction.

A world of one, torn asunder. Kings rise only to fall.

The cause of destruction as a consequence for all.

The Dark shall ascend, the corrupt and undead it shall send.

The cause of destruction had sealed the realm’s fate. But only by His grace the providence of sorrow and desolation, He would then recreate.

The seed of hope burgeons, the one that will herald in the new age.

The Light but a vessel, It only burns to guide others, It only lives to die for others.

A life given for the causes of destruction.

Woe to the guilty, for they will reap the destruction they have sown.

The Light arises, the new dawn.

As the Light strengthens, so shall the Dark.

The law of balance, one that cannot be overturned.

The Darkness will pierce the Light; the Light will consume the Darkness.

This time something new springs at me. A phrase that has been grimly repeated throughout the prophecy. The cause of destruction. The Ice Erus mentioned it as well, in passing, when he referenced to the misdeed of Cornelius Qhar. He sought to save the realm from the scourge of the Ulris, but he was the very cause of it, since it was he that opened the door for them.

Why?

…. Greed. A thirst for unquenchable power.

My eyes inspect the first couple lines of the oracle.

The wording of ‘Darkness’ and ‘The Dark’ seem to symbolise two distinct entities. I naturally assumed that the ‘Darkness’ it spoke of was the Ulris, but it seems to be in consequence of the cause of destruction. Which means it is not about the darkness of the Ulris, but the darkness of our own. The darkness in the realms, in people, in our sheer nature that has led to our own demise.

The cause of destruction.

The Dark shall ascend, the corrupt and undead it shall send.

That must refer to Vilnus. It is he who wages this war, but only because the gluttony and selfishness of others—the cause of destruction—has incited this armageddon. If Cornelius had not dabbled with forces he did not comprehend, the Ulris would not have a key to our world.

Since before, the threshold needed to be opened from both sides.

It seems the providence of our world has been made indelible.

It cannot be rewritten. But another outcome can be authored.

The seed of hope burgeons, the one that will herald in the new age.

The Sagetai’s metaphor is ‘The Light’ and I have noticed the capitalisations of the prominent figures in the oracle. The Light and The Dark. I find it interesting that the ‘seed of hope’ is worded in such a sequestered way. But one thing that plights me most is the certainty of the destiny of ‘The Light’.

The one destined to save, but at what cost?

The Light but a vessel, It only burns to guide others, It only lives to die for others.

The life of a Sagetai; a tribute of sacrifice.

But where does one begin? The Light and Dark are even phrased as equals, for that is what the opposites are. Balance is a law that cannot be transgressed. Our powers may be equated, but victory will be reaped by the one that is the strongest both in will and skill.

Vilnus is an immortal with unfathomable, prehistoric power which he has been garnering and refining for countless cycles. He had the power to overthrow his brother and unite all the hellscapes under his rule, all the hellions and fiends—unthinkable abominations, all follow his command, making him nearly unconquerable.

However, I only found out this cycle, out of an absolute coincidence that I am the Sagetai. I am skilled in hand-to-hand combat and weaponry, but that is nothing in face of the enormity of Vilnus. I am untrained in my power; I do not even know how to… activate them, let alone use them.

And I have to battle him?

What are my odds of surviving? And I’m even expected to save others in the process. Even though I have failed to save those around me, including myself.

Emotions burst through a flaccid seal. Overwhelmed by a bout of anxiety, panic tightens its fingers around my throat. The fire in the hearth roars awake, snapping, crackling frantically. Swiftly, I drop the quill in the inkwell, and I rise to set the parchment and hardboard on the seat as I hurry across the room to the tall, frosted window.

I lean my forehead against it, the cold burns, before the sharp chill fades into something soothing and almost medicinal. I place my hand on the surface, my finger trails the fissures of ice on the other side like it splintered the glass, a lattice of glistening frost. Outside a ghostly, orb-white, winter moon hangs in a starless sky.

The door opens, whining its protest.

I lengthen and whirl around.

A servant girl I know. Greer pokes her head around the door. “Hera Aurora, I am soon to retire for the night. Before I go, is there anything you require?”

“How thoughtful of you,” I say with a crippled smile. “No, I am well—” an idea sprouts. “Actually. Do you know where all the other Herems’ bedchambers are located?”

“Yes, Hera.”

I make my start to the door, detouring to the other armchair to pluck up the fur coat.

“I need you to take me to one of them,” I say, wrapping myself in a furry embrace.

“Yes Hera.” She widens the door and waits for me to pass before she closes it behind me.

“He wishes to see you.”

Greer broadens the door, and I stroll into the bedchamber that is an exact replica of my own. Except the armchairs have been shoved aside to make more space before a blazing hearth that expels all darkness, encompassing him in firelight.

“Thank you,” Solaris says to Greer. “You are free to go.”

Greer’s face flushes, a reddening blush dusts her cheeks. She curtseys quickly before she hurries out of the room, softly closing the door.

“She seems taken by you,” I remark.

It is easy to see why, Solaris’s is flawlessly handsome in a prince-like way.

He swats the comment away. “A frequent occurrence met with frequent disinterest.”

The coverlet that Solaris lounges on is blanketed with furry duvet covers sprawled beneath him. He sits on top of it with one leg bent, the other fully elongated, his arms pillars of support behind him. My gaze darts to the silver-enamelled wine bottle with one chalice on a saucer beside him.

“To what do I owe this rare delight?” Firelight imbues a tinge of amber in his oceanic eyes. “Is this an attempt at seduction? I would hate to humiliate you, but frankly I am not intrigued.”

I snort a short laugh, ambling forward. “That is why I am here.”

I point a finger at my face, gesturing to my exaggerated smile. “I needed a recess of my own to just—”

His torso shifts slightly to raise a silencing hand. “You needn’t explain yourself. You are always welcome. Sit and join me.”

I slowly slip out the coat and kick off my slippers. “You are too kind, dear rival.”

“Only because you make it so easy,” he says, exhibiting a brotherly smile like we have been lifelong friends and that is how it feels, and that is what I quietly hope it will be.

I plop down on my knees opposite him, and I place the bundled coat beside me.

The hearth greets me with its warm radiance, engrossing me in much needed heat.

“I hope I am not intruding….”

He waves me off theatrically, tossing his hand. “In fact, you have aided me. I was sampling some of Nivalis’s pride and treasure. Their wine. But now I have someone to enjoy it with. Where’s the fun in drinking alone?”

He scoops up the chalice and offers it to me.

I pause to look at it, then my eyes bounce to him.

He flutters the chalice enticingly, wearing an imploring smile.

Finally, I take it from him, extracting a tentative sip that turns into a generous swig, tilting my head. The taste is a citrus sweetness that dissolves into the effervescence of a thousand tiny bubbles. It’s like the first bloom of spring and the last snowfall of winter, all in one taste.

“Whoa.” Solaris extends his hand, wiggling his fingers urgently. “I merely offered for you to taste, not to vacuum the entire thing.”

My head levels, I lower the chalice from my lips. My gaze shoots to the bottle. “I did not take you for the stingy kind. You have an entire bottle left.”

“If you are going to judge me, judge correctly.” He snaps his fingers reproachfully. “I have half left.”

“Perfect,” I say, grinning. “The rest is then mine.”

I hand him back the chalice. He rolls his eyes and huffs like a child before he snatches it from me. He picks up the unsealed bottle and pours it into the chalice until it brims with a refill.

He gives it to me, and I take it gleefully.

Still holding the bottle, he extends it towards me. “A toast,” he says with all seriousness.

I hold out the chalice with mirrored sombreness.

“To….” A defiant smile tries to break through. “To surviving the bloody King Trials.” He burst into a hearty laugh, his nose wrinkling adorably. “I have reached the point where I question the worth of it all. All these tests to become High King is gruelling, imagine the real position.”

“Well, I doubt one would need to travel the plains of the Night Desert on foot or grovel pitifully to foreign powers.”

His face deadpans. “I meant, the ways of a king. Making difficult choices, sacrificing lives for some greater, collective good. An affair with death.”

Raising the chalice an inch higher, I say, “To surviving thus far.”

“And even further,” he adds.

We clink the chalice and bottle in jubilant accord. I take a mouthful of the chalice and Solaris drains the bottle’s contents. He stretches to place the empty bottle on the saucer.

He slants his torso to one side to rest on his one elbow, gazing up at me with a whimsical smile. “Tell me. After the King Trials, what is next after this? Both alternatives, if you win or not.”

I take another mouthful, swallowing gradually. “Neither is what I wish to explore. What about you?”

He turns his face to stare up at the ceiling pensively. “If I were to become High King…I would make a lot of amendments. I would restore parts of the old regime. The Sanctum. I loved the idea of every dominion in Urium under the Crown’s reign to be represented. All I would alter is the parts in which it failed.”

My head bops. “Hypothetically, the concept is good. It was the people that were flawed and always will be.”

He hums in agreement. “Urium is known as a fractured place, which is why no other foreign dominion wants to ally themselves with damaged goods. We need to heal, save ourselves before we seek to save others. Urium needs to unite in a way never before seen, every land and people must know that none are either superior or inferior. We are all equals.”

The lively fire floods the room with its warmth, the heat saturating our faces.

“Not to speak ill of High King Urus, but he is absorbed with trying to expand his influence, thwarting rebellions that jeopardise it. Instead of focusing on the internal problem of why his people revolt or—”

“Expand his influence?” I interrupt confusedly, needing an explanation.

He nods slowly. “You did not know? The Crown has made some military advances on foreign soils, securing several new colonies beyond Urium, small but resource-rich. Those that resisted were enslaved. Even though technically all are slaves, shackled or not, them and their domain belong to the High King.”

I lengthen my arm. He takes the chalice from me and sets it back where it was.

I wash my face with my hands. “That is why they were so angry….”

“Who?”

“Everyone,” I scoff. “At Sorcia I left the imperial palace with—” I stumble into a brief lapse of muteness. “There was a riot. A terror faction, insurgents trying to rally Sorcian people to their crusade, and they were drinking in their words. If people know that the Crown has been funding its own aspirations instead of using it to improve the lives of his own people, then…”

“A revolution shall arise,” Solaris answers for me. “If I was to be High King that is what I would change. I would put my people first, establishing a new council, one council with a delegate from each Province of Urium to represent all people. A council in charge of the social stability and economic health of all. Urium deserves a Ruler that shall put them first, above all else.”

A peaceful silence settles.

Solaris eyes dart from place to place, his mind mulling over something.

“What would you call this council?” I ask.

“Urium united.”

We both share a laugh.

“It certainly has a ring,” I say encouragingly. “But it is a little blunt.”

He blows a heavy breath. “Uritus,” says confidently. “It deprives from a root word that means, one.”

I nod my head, repeating it in my mind, and the nods grow. “Yes, yes, why not. I quite like it.”

He smiles fondly. “Then again. If I am not chosen. I will simply inherit the title of Domus. That is if I’m still alive. Hopefully, the one I wish to court becomes my wife, and blesses us both with children. I would use my given influence to do what I can to strive for change and—”

“Vince kissed me,” I blurt. I slap my hand over my mouth.

Solaris’s eyes bulge out their sockets like a caricature drawing. “He did what!”

I drop my hand. “I have no idea why I said that.”

“Clearly something was weighing on you. Well then…relieve yourself,” he demands with angered concern. “But first.”

He looks around him quickly and grabs the chalice to empty it completely.

I stare back at him jadedly. “Was that truly necessary?”

“If we are to discuss that brute.” He sets it down and meets my gaze. “Then yes, it is. I only wish I had another bottle. So tell me, Madam Aurora, or shall I call you Mistress from now on? Who is next to be enamoured by your allure? Treyton? Brennon? Other Avangarde soldiers, you seem to have a type.”

“You speak of me as if I am a whore—”

“Aurora the Seductress,” he announces. “Now that definitely has a ring.”

I gape at him, my mouth rounded in offense.

He shrugs at me innocently. “What? Here the rest of us are surviving day to day, hoping not to die, to not be slain by whatever new peril awaits. And somehow you have boy troubles?”

Dramatically, I flop to the floor. My head rested on the bundled coat, using it as a pillow.

“Did you….” He gulps audibly, followed by some gagging noises. “Did you kiss him back?”

“No,” I say promptly. “I left him—I practically ran from him, shortly after.”

“Shortly after?” he repeats disdainfully. “And what transpired between the time of the alleged rejection and you departing? When it should have been an immediate occurrence.”

My mind swims with incoherent words.

“Aurora.” Solaris moves to seat himself beside me, above my head.

He sits upright, leaning on one palm, hovering over me. “You are flirting with danger. You need to stay away from Vince. Besides the fact that he cannot keep his cock in his trousers, every event he attends—inestimable—he does not leave unaccompanied.”

I roll lay myself on my side to face the frolicking flames.

“He is a master manipulator, and I think he takes pride in it. His Regnum fashioned him to be a weapon in the battlefield and a proficient diplomat in royal courts. He is all types of dangerous.”

“I know all of this,” I say, dragging out my words.

“Do you?” he retorts. “Even if he developed genuine feelings for you, that affection is easily eclipsed by blood-bound loyalty and a yearning for power. Do not forget that Cornelius Qhar sought ultimate power over Urium, but he would not have been able to do it with Emikrollian aid. I do not think that the Emikrol Empire has forgotten that.”

“The Emikrol Empire has only shown unwavering loyalty to the Crown.”

I look up at him and rest myself on my forearms. “People can be more than their Regnum, their lineage. If Vilnus works to do his father’s bidding, that is a duty of a son.”

Solaris arcs a brow at me pointedly, proving his former point.

I wince at the impulse to defend him.

“Whether you accept it or not. You care for him.”

I fall back down, puffing.

“I cannot make you,” he says softly. “But I shall merely warn you, keep your distance from him. You are better off with that emotionally impaired Primus of yours.”

The peaceful silence that once lived is poisoned by tension. It rankles, staling the air between us. Then a strange, grumbling sound ensues, coming from Solaris’s stomach, cries of hunger that even I can hear.

“You are hungry,” I point out.

“No, my stomach merely makes those sounds for my amusement,” he says sarcastically. “All this talk of the brute has exhausted my energy. A good night meal will probably replenish me.”

He moves to stand. I snap out my hand to slam it on his wrist quickly.

“No, I will go. All being well, I can find a wandering servant,” I say, scrambling up to full height.

“No, I should go.” He rises, wobbling haphazardly, only to collapse back down. He nods. “You should go.”

I bend to pick up the coat.

“Do you think Aelvebore has cooks on night duty? I would hate to wake them.”

I adjust the lapels of the coat and move to slide each foot into my slippers. “Are you reconsidering?”

He looks away. “No,” he says guiltily. “No, I want food. Something modest, it is late after all. Preferably buttered potatoes with gamy goose packed with herbs and spices, and a healthy selection of fire-roasted vegetables.”

My eyebrows raise. Modest? “At this time, all of that?” I question.

He groans irritably. “Fine then, whatever they can spare. That is of quality,” he adds sharply. “Not leftover scraps meant to feed livestock.”

I curtsey mockingly. “Yes, Herem. Would you require anything else?”

“A change of attitude, perhaps?”

I frown at him playfully before I swivel around and exit his bed chamber, deserting the warmth. The moment I step out, I am pierced by icy gusts. I drift to the left arbitrarily, walking briskly down the vacant hallway with no guards or servants in sight.

The ceiling above is lined with lit candle chandeliers and fire torches that run in succession on the walls. The ever-present silence is like a spectral presence in a catacomb. Cold, still, and haunting.

Close to returning to Solaris, hat in hand. I am seized by a strong, ethereal grip.

I rotate slowly.

“Aurora,” the shadows whisper.

And from it, the darkness moves, taking a great form. Primus Kelan thaws from the shadows, darkness drapes off his rear like a melting cape. Stepping towards me, darkness disrobes him. The faint light, but light nonetheless exposes him.

What was he doing literally skulking in the shadows?

I entwine my fingers before me. “Primus Kelan,” I say in adverse greeting before I spin around.

“Aurora,” he beckons. My name but a blade he uses to puncture my back.

Against my will, my body turns itself around. “What is it you want? There is nothing more to be said.”

“It is something I must then….” he straggles off into a pained silence. “I can feel your—I can sense your resentment towards me. I have bled and suffered severe wounds, but nothing has agonised me more than your hatred towards me, specifically that I am the source of it.”

I rip my gaze away. “I do not hate you. Am I angry? Hurt? Saddened? Yes to all three. The decision you expect me to live with, without learning the reason as to why. Will you spare me that truth?”

He clings to his obstinate silence.

“It is as I thought.” I turn my back on him.

“Aurora—”

“What!” I shriek, my voice explodes off the walls. “What do you want? To prod at the remnants of my heart that you tore from my chest. For a reason that surpasses what should matter most. You and I. If I mattered to you, you would see that.”

“No,” he says darkly. “It is because you matter most to me that I did what I had to. And I do not regret it. I have made… irredeemable mistakes and I will not make even one blunder with you. The truth always has a way of revealing itself, and your wish will be granted. Only then will you comprehend my decision.”

“Sleep well, Primus,” I say, my voice strained. I move to turn away, but he halts me again.

“I know you are upset with me but. Let me look at you.”

My face crinkles slightly at the request, but my body obeys his order. On its own violation, my shoulders straighten to face him fully. My gaze sinks mournfully.

A stagnant moment ensues. One that should feel awkward and uncomfortable but more so painful. Deprived of the comfort of his touch. True warmth.

In an indescribable way, his presence a balm to a wound that he inflicted.

Sighing, I ask, “Enough?”

He shakes his head absently. “Never.”

This time he turns away, I stare after him involuntarily. Darkness shrouds itself over him.

“Kelan!” I cry out. “You are not doing what is best for me, you are doing what you think is best for me.”

“No,” the shadows bellow. “It is because I do not deserve you. If you knew my truth, you would instantly agree.”