-- Nova’s Perspective –
Nova escaped into the Old Palace.
It was decrepit, now. Crumbling cloth hung on the walls—the remains of bright banners and tapestries, slowly rotting into dust. Dust everywhere, really, thick layers upon layers of it. Her footsteps stirred up silty clouds in the deepest parts, she was familiar with them. Familiar with the age, the quiet, the decay.
‘A callous disrespect of our past’ was what Priest Jove liked to call it, his dry, wiry hands pulling up weeds as he lectured. He would always garden as they talked, kids from both the Homes helping him.
Nova wasn’t sure it was disrespect. More like they’d all just forgotten about it. All the royals, the new church, the busy people in the city just across the river—they were all so quick about everything, not like old Priest Jove, or even the younger adults who ran the Home Nova lived in. People outside the Scoop just didn’t bother remembering, didn’t have the time to.
Moving quietly through the Old Palace, Nova tried to put those thoughts from her mind.
The world may have forgotten the Old Palace, neglected the old gods Nox and Lux, and ignored every orphan in the two homes; but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. And it meant the quiet Old Palace belonged to the Scoop, and the Scoop alone.
She was exploring deep, that evening. The dust lined the edges of her vision like snowflakes or mist, and she had a bandanna around her mouth and nose to keep it breathable. Glow stone—still bright after nearly 100 years—lit her path in long strips ensconced in corners, giving the place an eerie, ever-present light.
Exploring the Old Palace was commonplace, among the orphans, but none of the others loved it the way Nova did. She loved the silence.
Entering what appeared to be a bedroom, she picked through the remains of a vanity table, spotting a vivid red gem. It was the biggest piece of a golden bracelet, the gem a bit bigger than her thumbnail. She tipped it this way and that in the glow-light, watching it sparkle hypnotically.
There was no way they could sell it; doing so would invite scavengers into their peaceful Scoop. People remember gems and gold, and not in a good way.
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Still, Nova pocketed it. She had a small collection of jewelries back at her Home. Beautiful, useless trinkets.
That, too, wasn’t uncommon among the more adventurous kids. Nova’s stash was the biggest, though. Ira, their sole paladin, called her ‘little magpie’ because of it. The nickname stuck, almost like a last name, now.
Leaving the room, she took to the hallway again. Let her need for silence drive her on.
She went deeper, deeper than she’d ever been before. Many of her nights had been spent this way, but she wasn’t stopping as often. Her feet only came to rest when the corridors ended.
Surprised, she stopped.
Her path had ended at a wide doorway. It was half-blocked by the rotting remains of double doors, expensive filigree glinting in the wreckage. She pushed through it, entering a massive room.
Bas reliefs shone from the walls in Glow Stone, depicting stern-faced men holding scepters and bearing the weight of heavy crowns on their heads. Each had an individual face, carved to look like real people.
“Past kings.” Nova whispered, enchanted. She ran her fingers across the portraits. None of them were familiar. It had been far too long for common knowledge to bother with them.
At the far end of the room, a massive dais rose in stone and elaborate craftsmanship. Gems the size of Nova’s fist gleamed from stone dimples, swirls of white marble and pale Dove-metal making abstract shapes like ocean currents.
“How could they just leave all this stuff here?”
What had they called the king who’d built the New Palace? Right, ‘Adrian the Extravagant.’
Nova clicked her tongue. “Well deserved.”
Even as a poorly educated 13 year old, she knew that throne had to cost millions upon millions of top coins. Just the Dove-metal alone…
It’s a good thing we haven’t sold any jewelry. She gulped. People would kill for this.
She walked towards the dais. A black throne was perched atop it, deceptively simple in design. She didn’t recognize the stone it was made of—probably some kind of magic material. More expensive than Dove-metal, maybe?
Shivering, she gave the whole thing a wide berth. Who knew what kind of lingering enchantments remained.
To either side of it, there were more bas-reliefs of old kings. Nova spent another moment studying them, but soon found herself strangely bored.
Once you got past the sheer expense of the place…
“It’s empty.” She mumbled to herself. While the craftsmanship was undeniably perfect, the art itself felt hollow. Soulless.
She was about to leave, spooked by the massive display of dead power, when she spotted another doorway behind the dais.
Huh?
The doorway didn’t match the rest of the room, or even the rest of the palace. Most of the building preferred straight lines and sharp corners, but this entrance was an arch. There was no rotting door, either, the inside obscured instead by a pervasive dimness… and, was that mist?
Blue mist wavered just inside the arch, glittering and soft.
Nova gravitated towards it, skirting around the throne-area carefully. The sound of rushing water beckoned her in, a deep thrum; a heartbeat that matched her own.
Without a second thought, she stepped through the mist. Cool air wrapped itself around her.
Her eyes widened.
“Beautiful.”