Kalie Rana

The next morning

I stood high on the cliff of the fjord, looking over the harbor. It was on this very spot, nine years ago, that Grandmother swooped out of nowhere and saved me from the leviathan. In the years since, the leviathan had become something more of legend than reality, and now that Grandmother wasn’t around, if it were to return, it would be left to me to deal with. From that vantage point, I had a perfect view of the harbor and the gigantic red-sailed battleship that intended to take me away from here. From my home. With that burning thought in mind, I began to sing. The words of my song echoed back to me by the sea’s spirits below and the sounds of harmony flowed in with the westerly wind. I lost myself in my song as the sun’s earliest rays warmed my face as my song came to its final crescendo.

Drawing in a deep breath reverted the flow of mana back into my body, pulling in as much of the sea air as I could stand. After several deep breaths, I finally heard something other than the chirping birds that called the stony crag home.

Clapping.

As I turned to face the source, the residues of mana flowed down and along the seams of my high skirted dress. I had argued with Maria that morning, and we decided that the compromise would be something between the fanciful dresses that the mainlander noblewomen preferred and the rugged realities of life on Cerith. Cutting off at my ankles, it struck the perfect balance. To impress my unexpected audience.

“Beautiful.” The Grand-Admiral’s secretary, Mr. Anipinna, was making his way between the rough stones and thick grasses to the carved edge of the cliff.

“My singing? Thank-you very much sir.” Subconsciously, I continued my overly-cordial ways, a carry over from the palace.

“Of course your singing is beautiful, but I mean how you turned. Your body moved as if it was a flower’s petal in the wind. Graceful.” Cordiality that the secretary seemed to have shaken off, now that we were in the privacy of the open air.

“I appreciate your sweet words but you’re going to make me blush. I’m not sure that your liege would like that.”

“My words weren’t meant to be sweet Princess, just a statement of fact.”

And yet, his words still continued to be saccharine to my ears.

“Well, thank you anyway. May I ask what business you have up here? This is quite far from the palace, and I was under the impression that my father was to have further discussions with you and the Admiral concerning my sisters.” The secretary looked at me, and although no words left his mouth I had a feeling I knew what he was thinking. “I guess I was right to think that any meeting would be fruitless. Do you know whether my sisters ever did end up making it to that meeting?”

“I don’t think so, however, I wasn’t invited.”

“Does that mean that it’s a waste of time then? I can’t exactly imagine the Grand Admiral being the sort of person to argue a point that has already been decided. Whether he was being petitioned by king or peasant.” Hearing this, the secretary laughed under his breath. It was an interesting laugh, subtle, and yet spoke volumes.

“I’d wager you’re right about that. The decision has been made already it seems. I guess the only thing that is going to keep us from returning to Corvus with you, would be if you decided to scuttle the fleet here and now. To be honest, that was what I imagined you were doing here as I approached.”

“And yet, you clapped.”

“Why wouldn’t I? Your singing was beautiful enough to move me not to worry too much about staying here for a little while longer.”

“So you’re saying that you’d be fine if I had decided to destroy those ships?”

“I’m saying that for the moment, as I heard your voice I cared a little less, yes. But, sadly, I’ve got more than enough work waiting for me back on the mainland that it would, at the very least, be a great inconvenience to me. And my family.” The secretary’s eyes were cast down at the ships floating peacefully in the calm waters offshore.

“Well, I’m glad that I didn’t inconvenience you. Mr Anipinna.” The man winced as I said his name. Like it offended him.

“Please, call me Lux.”

“Alright, Lux. It’s nice to finally have a name for you.”

“It really shouldn’t be, there’s no good reason for a Princess like yourself to know the name of a lowly secretary like myself. While I may be a noble of the mainland, honestly, there’s no good reason that you should be even speaking with me at all.”

“And yet you gave me your name,” I said with a chuckle

“Apologies, your highness, I—”

“There’s no need to apologize. But, I guess I really should be getting going soon. We are in a time crunch, are we not?”

“Time crunch?” Lux pondered my slightly anachronistic words as I began to gather my things. By the time our eyes met again, his mask of cordiality had returned, and Lux had come to a conclusion all on his own.

“Then I guess this will be the end of our conversation. I hope that you have a good morning. We will be leaving just after noon.” He spoke, tersely and once again in his affectless way. Only adding to my confusion as he wasted no time in trundling down the path leading away from the cliffside prayer site.

“Where are you going?” I asked after him. Stopping, he faced me, wearing a muted but noticeably confused expression. “I thought we could walk together. I have a few more errands to run around the island, and if you’re not doing anything else, I could use the company.”

“Oh.”

“You’ve made for interesting conversation so far, and there is quite a bit of walking that I need to do.” It was only after I said it that I realized how close to a proposition that was. “Only if you aren’t busy with other duties.”

“Princess, I’d be honored to join you.”

That title, so often used by Kunnak in a sneer, or by the servants and peasants in an all too deferential way, was different coming from his lips. It bordered, ever so slightly, on a pet name. A sweetness that far out paced his near monotone delivery.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Our conversation made the arduous hike across the island’s terrain a lot more bearable. The cliffs surrounding the palace and harbor were sharp, but the highlands above was where the true difficulty lay. Rocky and unforgiving, and covered in a layer of slick lichen, the hike wasn’t easy, and yet he managed effortlessly. I realized the more that we spoke, that there was something to be said for the value of his words. While his tone or expression rarely gave anything away, Lux’s words were surprisingly unfiltered. A refreshing experience for someone like myself. Cerith was a paradoxically warm place, but it was never unfiltered. If Lux was the sort of person who called the kingdom of Corvus home, maybe my time there wouldn’t need to be as bad as I presumed it would be.

As we walked toward the southernmost tip of the island, I came to a second realization. His humorless face, and his serious eyes gave off the impression that he was much older than Kalie was, but, after watching the man bound down the rocky paths, and confidently hold conversation while traversing the less amenable sections rounding the sharp crags and cliffs, there was no way that I could continue to hold that impression. He held himself just as I did.

“Another carved circle?” he asked as we approached the southern tip of the main island.

“Of course. It’s what we’re here for.”

“I guess I never did ask you why we were coming all the way out here.”

“Well the human sacrifice of course,” I said, turning to face him. From where he stood on the cliff’s edge, I would’ve imagined that he would’ve jumped back hearing that. But instead, he calmly turned to face me.

“Is that the case? Are you gonna do me the favor of ending it before I hit the rocks, or will the fall be doing the deed?”

“By the gods, you’re so morbid! I’m joking of course.” He received and delivered the joke not unlike a man his age from my past life would have, which in turn made him truly unique here.

“Of course,” he parroted with a smile.

“How did you know I was joking? People fall from these cliffs all the time. Nobody would bat an eye if it happened.”

“I’m sure they wouldn’t.”

“So then why do you not seem to care?”

“The same reason I was fine staying here when I heard you sing. If my last moments are these, then I guess my life was well lived enough.” I was thankful that he had turned back to the sea as he spoke, as I could feel the blood burning to the surface of my cheeks.

“Well, maybe I could grant you your wish, if you really want to end it all right now.”

“To be honest, now that I’ve said it I have come to realize something.”

“What? That you’re being insane?”

“No, that if you were to choose to come with me all the way back to the mainland, then I would be able to spend the better part of a month in your company.” It was only as he looked at me there, on the cliff, with the beautiful golden light of morning shining down on him, that I noticed the flecks of gold in the dark black of his eyes. They became all that much more noticeable as they bunched up under his slight smile. “Much better than a single morning.”

“Presumptuous aren’t we, Mr. Secretary?”

“A man can have hope, can he not?”

“You’re better with it, I’d say.”

“Then we agree,” Lux said as he stepped out of my way. “What sort of errand is this, anyway?”

“It’s a spell.”

“Ah, finally going to fling me off the cliff are we?”

“Of course not. It’s… it’s a special sort of spell.”

“A special spell? To those of us unblessed by the gods, all spells are special, Princess.”

“Well, this one is different. It’s a sort of goodbye. Now, if you don’t mind, please stand back.” Lux nodded as he rounded the circle, stepping back onto the path. I prepared the circle for my spell. Salt and stone, chalk and wild grass seeds. All the necessary elements of the Isles, all the meaningless and yet still meaningful items that were required for the ritual of parting. In truth, it was my grandmother who should have done this for me. As the Petrel, it was her duty to see to it that on the days that the most important of business were to depart from Cerith, that all the waters of the world know to allow the boat’s safe passage. The reality of the ritual of parting was something much less literal. It was a symbolic “spell” which had only a single true purpose; to sing the song of parting to the child of the Isles.

While it should have been Grandmother standing here, blessing the world and all who could hear it with her song, instead it was I. Opening my mouth to begin, I felt—as I often did—her influence pushing through me. She had become the intuition in my soul, the knowledge in my mind, and the strength in my muscles.

Through my song, I mourned for her, even though she was alive and I was with her everyday. I mourned the fact that I would probably never see her again. Her body was stolen from her, bit by bit, but her spirit remained strong and playful right until the end. Her illness continued on without hesitation. It snuck in each night and stole another piece of her body. A price she was required to pay as long as she lived as a majin and as the Petrel. At first, we hardly noticed the loss, until one moment, we did. Her legs were first. Then, her arms failed next, growing weaker. Then the ability to speak became a matter of will, sometimes not worth the effort. As her strength was lost, her playful spirit dimmed along with it. It was still there, trapped. I could still see it in her eyes when I visited her. I think that may have been the agony of it for her. She wanted to live, to sing, to dance, to hold all of us and life as tightly as she could. But then one day, she couldn’t.

As I finished my song, my throat was hoarse and dry, and my vision obscured by tears, but the spell was done. The song of parting had been sung, and it was finally time for me to leave the Isles. Lux was quick to come to my side, a strong hand grasping my shoulder as I sunk to the carved black stone at my feet.

I heard the sound of Lux’s voice, but there was nothing that he said that I could, or wanted to hear. As his other hand grabbed my other shoulder, and the strength in his hands became apparent, a part of me wanted to allow myself into his arms. To find comfort in another, as I had found comfort in her. But I fought the urge as another wave of tears racked my soul.

As the worst of the pain came to the surface, the heavens finally opened up, unleashing my agony. The tears on my face were drowned out ten-fold by the ever growing storm. The rain continued as I pulled myself up from the slick black circle. It was only as I got to my feet that Lux removed his hands from my shoulders.

“I’m sorry.” Lux was quick to speak, not even waiting for me to look him in the eyes.

“Is it your fault that I’m leaving? Are you the one to blame for me having to say goodbye to my grandmother forever? Is it by your will that I am stolen away from the only place that I have ever truly called home, to be taken before some tyrant king? Did you do that? Should I blame you for all that hardship?” Finally finding the strength to meet his eyes, I could tell that my gaze cut into him. His silent, unflinching, unbreaking stare was a response enough. “I didn’t think so. So do not apologize to me.”

“I can’t say that I have been in a position exactly like yours, but I can understand.”

“You’ve left your grandmother on her deathbed?” I couldn’t control my tone or my words as I snapped back at him.

“My father and brother have returned to Leona’s embrace. They’ve been gone for a few years now.” Lux didn’t look at me as he spoke. Whether it was the words themselves or the memories that they conjured up, I couldn’t know. Regardless, it was my callousness that caused him that pain, and despite my own pain, I now felt the guilt for his as well.

“I’m sorry.” Hearing me say this, Lux’s eyes returned to me. Scorn—or maybe it was irony—whatever it was, Lux’s eyes only compounded what I was already feeling. “I didn’t know.”

“Because I didn’t tell you.” Again, his words came as a matter of fact. Harsh, and succinct, but still, their meaning was enough to transform them into something better. “All that you do need to know is that you aren’t alone, but what you’re experiencing is a challenge set before you by the gods. There’s a lot to learn through hardships—remember that—but that’s not what you need right now. Right now, I would imagine that you’d probably like to enjoy the sweet summer rains you’ve blessed us with.”

Sweet summer rains?

For the first time since the storm began to fall, I allowed myself to feel it. The kiss of warm drops coated my skin, while the brisk winds carried a subtle warmth to them as well. The rains of Cerith were not warm. They were a chill, every drop demanding to be noticed. But this water was an embrace, a wet warmth that I had never felt before.

It was a response to my call, a blessing for my departure, and an embrace from the soul of the Isles.

And from Grandmother.