The lands of Soria were made up of two floating nations, sometimes referred to as the western and eastern wings, though more commonly known as Risia and Falia. For Caim and Storm, who were born on Falia, Risia was a land of mystery and fairy tale, a forbidden world completely locked away from them. No native-born Falians were allowed onto Risia, for it was the nation of Soria where the highborn lived.
The highborn were thought of throughout Soria as many things — pure-blooded, nobility, and even royalty. To many, they were the untainted descendants of Soria’s ancestors, or those untouched by the curse. The one thing Ronin had told them of Risia that they didn’t find appealing was that they were never to go there, ever, for any reason. And even if they had wanted to adventure to Risia, it would likely be impossible, for the only thing that connected the two floating countries was a colossal bridge that was kept heavily guarded at all times.
***
Far away on the nation of Risia . . .
***
A little willow bird no bigger than a fist flew upon the wind, rising high above the great bridge that bound together the two worlds. Far off in the distance, and beyond that very bridge stood the breathtaking castle of the Empress, and nestled around the great castle like a moat was a picturesque shining kingdom. The willow flew closer and closer towards that kingdom, towards Aurora’s Light, the stunning capital of Risia.
Aurora’s Light was a beautiful ivory realm, surrounded by endless forests, crystalline lakes, and twining rivers that gleamed like sapphires. The capital was encircled by two high rising outer walls, both built entirely of thick stone that held the warmth of the sun long after night had fallen. The walls stretched up and around the capital like towering rings protruding from the ground, and great statues of dragons cast their stony gaze from its upper brinks, threatening any who dared come bearing malice.
Resting in the center of the capital, the white castle was a sight beyond sights. The castle itself was constructed of a mythically rare ore known as aurelian, similar to diamond yet far older, and many believe that this ore fell as gifts from the moons long ago. It was because of this precious stone that, when light was reflected off the castle, it shimmered and glowed in a thousand different colors so vibrant and awe inspiring, that the castle was given its second name: Tyr Kasi’eronas, the Mother of Colors.
The little willow bird came upon the castle and soared around it. It weaved its way through the great towers that stood guard around the castle like the four points of a compass. For a brief moment, the willow came to land on one of the colossal black chains that bound the towers to the castle, as if they were being held prisoner. The chains, though black as night, glimmered like gems.
Taking flight, the willow flew down, spiraling around the chains and passing in-between the huge links. Far beneath, a small spec of green grass came closer and closer, until a tiny courtyard of dancing flowers and a single tree came plainly into sight. The little willow landed on one of the branches of the tree, and set its soft gaze on the courtyard below.
In the courtyard was a large silver stone, as though growing from the grass itself. It was a waystone of sorts, though seemingly out of place. Just beyond it was a tree with an amber trunk and leaves that sung of scarlet dawn. Lastly, scattered across the beautiful courtyard were three sisters, orphaned, yet not by birth, for they were the adopted daughters of the Empress. One of the sisters always seemed to stand out the most, especially at the most inopportune of times. She was the middle sister, and her name was Baelie.
Baelie was the roundest of the three, and by far the most ambitious. Wavy violet hair fell down to the tops of her shoulders where it met the high collar of her silver armor. Around her neck, a glittering gold necklace hung daintily, holding a gem that looked as if it had somehow captured lightning.
Baelie always wore full silver armor from head to toe, as though she were constantly ready for battle, and more often than not, sported a long cape that fluttered out behind her like the heroes of old. Her face was kind and soft-hearted, and being only fourteen cycles young, many of her pudgy, childish features had yet to diminish. Her eyes, however, were sharp and blue, possessing a certain courage that didn’t seem to match the rest of her appearance. In her right hand, she held what was in all likely-hood, intended to be a spear, yet in reality, was merely a near-straight branch plucked from a tree. Lastly, if imagination was a gift, one might say that Baelie was the most gifted of them all.
Baelie stared fearlessly at the horde of menacing enemies that gathered before her. They rose from the ground, tall, colorful, and unafraid, wearing bright green armor and donning different colored petals for helmets. A trickle of sweat fell from her lip as she surveyed the situation at hand.
Baelie glanced down at the VC marking that was etched with utmost precision into the breastplate of her armor, and she felt a surge of pride rush through her. Grasping her spear even tighter than before, she rushed into the midst of battle, swinging and piercing about wildly. After a few moments, she stopped, short of breath, and yelled out as loudly as she could.
“I am Baelie, Vice-Captain of the Force Corps!”
Dozens of flowers fell to the ground, vanquished mercilessly.
“I had no idea the great Vice-Captain of the Force Corps hunted such vicious creatures,” a sarcastic voice remarked. “Now, stop yelling, you’ll embarrass me, least not yourself.”
Baelie turned quickly, pointing her tree branch at her eldest sister. “Stupid Remington! No one cares what you think!” She stuck her tongue out at her.
“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me Remington!?” Remi snapped. She blew her blonde hair out of her eyes whilst glaring at her sister. “Ugh, you’re so annoying sometimes!”
“How about Smellington?” Baelie mused.
“What was that?”
“What was what?” Baelie feigned, trying to hide the faintest curl of a smile on her lip.
“I heard you!”
As the two sisters continued arguing, a shadow that had been watching them scurried quickly behind the trunk of the tree. Remi’s eyes glanced away from Baelie to find the tip of a tiny leather boot poking out from the base of its trunk, unsuccessfully hiding behind an upraised coil of darkened roots. She could hear faint whispering from behind the tree.
“You really shouldn’t talk to yourself, Maile,” said Remi. “People will get the wrong idea, you know?”
“Don’t chastise her!” Baelie exclaimed. “She’s told you a thousand times, the voice she hears is real!”
Remi sighed deeply as she turned back to her romance novel. “Just like the monsters you are fighting are real, right? Just like you being the Vice-Captain of the Force is real? I mean, really you two, isn’t it time to start growing up? We are princesses, after all.”
Remi was lying on the grass with one leg crossed over the other. Around her neck, she wore a chain, not unlike Baelie’s, though hers held an old sapphire for a pendant. Remi was, by the eyes of most who would judge, the most beautiful of the three, though equally equipped with a sharp tongue and a short temper. She wore a faded leather jacket with the sleeves rolled up, and beneath it was a tight white shirt with the bottom tied together, revealing the perfectly toned skin of her lower stomach. A short white skirt hung from her waist, and shrouding her feet were tall leather boots. She was, all things considered, the embodiment of beauty and fashion across the capital of Aurora’s Light.
“You know, Baelie,” Remi said, flipping to the next page of her novel. “You’re never going to find a boyfriend if you act like a boy all the time. Girls are supposed to be cute and pretty, not playing with sticks and—”
“NO ONE’S LOOKING FOR A BOYFRIEND, EXCEPT YOU, LOVER GIRL!” Baelie exploded in embarrassment.
Remi rolled her eyes. “Please, Baelie, I’m hardly looking.” She felt a flutter of her heart as she imagined her long-lost true love. “I’ve already found him, yet lost him too soon, though we will be reunited again. Just like in all the greatest romances . . .” Her eyes sparkled as she clutched her book to her chest.
CRAAACK!
Baelie smacked Remi on the head with her branch. “No one wants to hear about your stuuupid love story, Remi! Why don’t you go crawl into a hole and kiss a mole instead of harassing us!”
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
“Baelie!!!” Remi growled, turning to face her chubby younger sister. Her eyes spelled disaster.
Baelie shrieked, turning to run. However, the instant she turned, her foot caught the other and down she went. Lifting her eyes and wincing, she caught the slightest glance of Maile, who had been hiding behind the tree the whole time, watching and pretending to be invisible.
Maile stood very slightly out to the side of the tree trunk, just enough to peek out. She had long brown hair with red ribbons dangling from her ponytail, and she wore a helmet that she never, ever, forgot to secure. Much like her older sisters, she wore an eye-catching gold necklace, yet held at the end of hers was a vine-laced gem in the shape of a square. In fact, all of their necklaces had been gifts from the Empress, a token of their welcome into her family. Maile wore a long white blouse with many buttons, and atop her elbows and knees were hard pads, fastened tight for fear of falling, or any danger really. She whispered something inaudible, as if talking to the wind itself.
“Maile! Reinforcements! This is your cue!” Baelie came running past her.
The youngest sister had already disappeared behind the tree. Maile was the most timid of the three, and much preferred to remain hidden, as her and courage had never quite got acquainted. She closed her eyes and prayed that Baelie wouldn’t force her to play battle games again.
Baelie soon rounded the trunk of the tree, her breathing heavy. “We . . . are on . . . an important . . . mission, Maile!” Though interestingly enough, Remi had never started chasing her in the first place.
“No, you are on an imaginary mission, pretending you’re a member of the Force Corps again.”
“Mark my words, Remi,” said Baelie. “One day, I will become the Vice-Captain of the Force! The most prestigious female soldier unit in all of Risia!” She twirled around. “The guardians of the Goddess of Life! Led by the most powerful soldier ever to grace our world with her captainship, Lady Scylla the Valiant!”
“Ugh . . . we know who and what she is,” Remi answered. “You don’t have to explain it every single time. And you also don’t need to remind us of your dream every morning, noon and night.”
“At least, I have a dream, Remi,” Baelie retorted. “You just want a boy to kiss you. Ew, Remi. Ew.”
Maile peaked out from behind the tree quietly. With unexpected agility and dexterity, Baelie ran over, grabbed Maile by the hand, and dragged her over to Remi. They came to a sliding stop in front of their eldest sister.
Kneeling down on one knee, Baelie looked up at Maile, whose helmet was sitting on her head crooked. The little one’s eyes were in a daze from being swept away from her hiding spot so fast.
Baelie grasped Maile’s little hand romantically. “Oh, Remi,” she began in a mocking tone. “I’ve found you at last. You are the answer to my dreams, the twinkle to my star, and the sweet to my fruit. You are . . . have you gained weight?”
“LIKE I HAVE!” Remi screamed, throwing her book at Baelie’s head.
The book bounced off Baelie’s forehead, and like a perfectly stiff board, Baelie’s body collapsed to the ground, releasing a puff of air in all directions.
“Some Vice-Captain you are, Baelie the Snailee,” jeered Remi. “Maybe your late-night missions to raid the kitchens haven’t been exactly helping you in the strength category.” She walked over and picked up her book, brushing it off. “Don’t start wars you can’t win, Miss Vice-Captain of the Flower Brigade.”
Maile covered her mouth, giggling, trying not to let Baelie overhear. She knew full well that Baelie snuck into the pantries at night. She made a grotesque face remembering a half-eaten honey sandwich she’d once found under Baelie’s pillow—which Baelie, upon finding, finished eating.
Baelie rose slowly to her feet, grabbing her makeshift spear and stabbing it into the ground. It didn’t quite make it into the ground, and simply fell over, but she ignored it.
“Keep throwing your book at me, and one day, it’s going to get burned . . . And how many times do I have to say . . . not to ever say the words . . . Baelie the Snailee!”
“But you just said it?” Remi said, lifting an eyebrow.
“Ah!” Baelie clutched her breastplate and spoke to herself. “Don’t worry. You are the Vice-Captain, and nothing she says can hurt you.” She reached out to grab her stick spear, which was not stabbed into the ground, so she grasped only the air.
“No, you’re not, actually.” Remi spoke up.
“You’re the what?” said an unidentified voice.
“I said, ‘I’m the Vice-Captain,’” Baelie answered sharply.
“And I like I said, ‘No, you’re not!’” Remi’s voice rose to match Baelie’s.
“You’re the Vice-Captain, are you?” remarked the unidentified voice, amused.
“Who the heck are you!?” Remi and Baelie yelled together, turning to face the voice.
Standing before them was one of the most gorgeous women they had ever seen. She wore elegantly crafted armor pronounced by a silver breastplate with different glistening gems adorning it. Over her shoulders were pauldrons the color of carbon grey, and clad over her arms and wrists were thin leather that glowed with a copper tone.
“Who the heck am I?” she said, her smile ever so faint.
The young woman’s face was soft yet intrigued, and her eyes seemed to glow like burning silver. Blonde hair that gleamed in the sun fell down to the low of her back, covering a white-jeweled shield that was strapped firmly in place. She wore a skirt of silver and bronze, and laced black leggings ran down the length of one leg. Upon her feet, she wore dark leather boots. Last, but not least, was a long, straight sword that was sheathed at her hip.
Baelie’s eyes fell upon the black number that looked tattooed onto her shoulder.
It was the number 5.
“You – you are!” Baelie stuttered as elation and fear ran through her. “You’re the rank five of the Force Corps! Lady Theresa, the God’s Shield!” She suddenly remembered her respect and fell immediately to a knee. She looked up at Remi, motioning her with her eyes to follow suit, but Remi pointedly ignored her.
Theresa grinned. “Damn right I am and don’t forget it. By the gods, I love my title. It just goes ever so perfectly with the rest of me.” She laughed as she ran a hand through her voluminous gold locks.
Remi narrowed her eyes. “I don’t think I like you very much,” she murmured. She didn’t know why, but she seldom got along with other girls that she thought to be beautiful. She ran her eyes over Theresa, taking in all of her elegance and class.
“What was that?” Theresa asked with a raised eyebrow. She looked at Remi the way one might look at a stranded animal, with just a touch of pity in her eyes. “I couldn’t quite hear you.”
“I was just saying–” Remi began.
“Never mind. I don’t care.” Theresa said with a laugh. “I cannot listen to the ugly.”
Remi felt fire ignite within her chest, and without thinking at all of the consequences, chucked her romance novel straight at Theresa’s head.
A slick grin curved across Remi’s face as she awaited impact. It would be a glorious moment as her favorite book smacked straight into this horrible girl. Ugly? How dare she call her that! Of all the things!
Baelie leaned forward in slow motion screaming, “Nooo—”, as Maile ducked behind the tree.
WHOOOOSH!
Just like that, Remi’s book split into a thousand pieces of shredded paper. The sound of metal sliding upon metal rang through the air as Theresa sheathed her sword. Remi could barely think. She had only heard the sound of the sword being sheathed. Nothing at all before that. And she had seen nothing at all. But despite that, all she could see was a storm of ripped paper falling from the air.
“Why you little!” Remi cried, running forward and grabbing pieces of her shredded book. She stopped soon after and turned to face Theresa, who was smiling from ear to ear.
“Yes, dear?” Theresa asked. “Were you expecting a different result?” She laughed. “Ugly and stupid, it would seem. The gods might be considered cruel, if you weren’t perfectly entertaining.”
A bubbling rage materialized itself in Remi’s eyes. “I’ll kill you. I swear—” Remi started to walk forward, but Baelie clasped her hand over Remi’s mouth and forced her to a stop. Despite being younger than Remi, Baelie had already grown bigger than her eldest sister, and was luckily able to hold her back.
“RET ME GO! I’LL GILL HER!” Remi screamed through her sister’s hand.
“Shut up, Remi! This is serious!” Baelie whisper-shouted, using all her strength to hold back her seething sister. “You have to calm down! She’s a member of the Force!”
Theresa flicked her hair out of her eyes and turned her back to the three of them.
“Don’t worry. I didn’t come here merely for pleasure,” began Theresa. “Though I must say this has been a lot more fun than I thought it was going to be. You adopted princesses walk around as if you are true royalty, but never forget that everyone, and I mean everyone—” She raised her arms, turning back to them. Her expression was one of contempt, a surprising contrast to everything they had seen up until then.
“—Knows that you aren’t. You aren’t special. And you sure as hell aren’t royalty. Simply noble, you are. And noble blood is only special when standing next to a curseborn, gods forbid. Lucky for you, the Empress adopts nearly all children without parents, so no reason to feel as if you mean anything more than you do. The truth hurts, doesn’t it? Now, back to the point of my mission, so I can take my leave of you spoiled little brats. You three have been summoned by Lady Enies and are to report to the Valyti within one turn of the shade. This is not a request, unfortunately.”
Baelie was speechless. Theresa stood still for a long moment, expecting some answer from them. She finally lost her patience, re-enunciating her words so sharply, it felt as if she were etching them into their skin with a knife.
“Lady Enies, the acting Vice-Captain of the Force Corps, commands that you are to report to the Valyti in one turn of the shade.” She paused for a moment before finishing. “I say, they really should have the low-ranking soldiers take care of these trivial matters.”
At that, Theresa turned with perfect elegance and walked away. An instant later, she vanished into thin air, leaving nothing but a remnant breeze and the perfumed scent of apple blossoms.
Baelie stood frozen like a statue, unable to make sense of what had just happened. An instant later, her heart began to race, and she came to the only plausible explanation for everything. Her eyes came alive with a new glow.
“They must have recognized my destiny, and decided to make me Vice-Captain!” Baelie announced proudly. The single willow took off from the tree and flew out of the courtyard.
“Guys! It’s finally happening!”
Remi fell to her hands and knees, staring at the torn pages of her favorite book. An unspeakable rage overcame her, and she swore revenge against the evil Theresa for destroying what was most precious to her.
Still hiding behind the tree, Maile trembled in fear. She was unable to shake the word Valyti from her mind. It was a place she had never wanted to step foot into, not once, not ever. To her, it was a place that existed only in nightmares.