It wasn’t long before Remi, Baelie, and Maile left the courtyard and began heading for the Valyti. What choice did they have, being summoned by one of the most renowned and powerful people of Soria? Even being children of the Empress, there were certain times where choice was lost, even for them. Though, for Baelie, it could not have been any more of a blessing.
The girls traveled down winding stone paths, walking past home after home that glowed warmly beneath the dusk sun. Passing into the commerce district, they took in the sound of tinkerers, blacksmiths, and the smell of freshly baked loaves of bread. Children ran past, singing and dancing. Such was the beauty of the magnificent capital of Aurora’s Light.
Great golden oaks flanked their path as they passed out of the commerce district, and the sight of the castle came clearly into view. The last rays of the sun’s light fell upon its walls, reflecting a myriad of colors out into the world. The girls stood for a moment admiring the sight. The castle was a shimmering rainbow of light, nigh unforgettable, a true wonder of Soria.
They soon came upon an overlook perched above the small district, or village one might say, that they had just walked through. Little tufts of smoke lifted from chimneys, and those same children danced, sang, and played around a courtyard fountain. Past the town was a meadow full of brilliant blue flowers that swayed softly in the wind. And just beyond the field of flowers stood the fabled tower Islair, realm of the Force Corps, and the very place they were headed.
Monolithic black chains linked the cloud-piercing tower to the castle, though it itself did not shine as the castle did. Islair was one of four towers, each one surrounding the castle like points of a compass. The three sisters walked on in silence, wondering what might be waiting for them within. Not a few minutes later, they were standing before it.
Islair towered over them like a tree before ants. They had never come this close to it before, and it was much wider than they had imagined, wider perhaps than a thousand trees combined. There were no windows that they could see, just random notches, and Remi wondered if it were climbable. Maile, still living in terror, was looking up at the great black chains. She shivered at the thought of people walking upon them, so high above the ground, and wondered if it had ever been done.
Why would they summon us to the Valyti? Remi thought to herself. It doesn’t make any sense.
She had heard rumors of the Valyti growing up. It was considered dark and magical, though also a place of bloodshed, and not for those of weak will. It was the home of the Force, after all, and they were the strongest women in all of Soria. It was a hidden world within their world. At least, that’s how she thought of it. She imagined a dark prison, haunted by bloody and deceased warriors that wielded blood-smeared weapons. Red eyes in the dark. That sort of thing.
But why? Remi wondered. She leaned back her head, trying to see the top of the tower.
Why us?
She wanted more than anything to know the reason they were being summoned. No matter how hard she thought, she could not come to a conclusion that was not negative. It was practically the same as being summoned to meet with the Empress, except instead of filling her with wonder and excitement, it filled her with the feeling of dread.
Nonetheless, the summons had been unwarranted in her eyes and possibly a mistake. She glanced at her two sisters. Maile was tightening her elbow and knee pads, and Baelie had a great smile on her face, believing she knew exactly why they were there. Looking back at the tower, Remi made a startling realization.
“Um . . .” began Remi. “There’s no door?”
Baelie pushed her way past. “C’mon, Remi. They can fly.”
Maile’s eyes widened. “They can?”
Baelie beamed. “Oh, yeah. I bet the entrance is at the top of the tower.”
Maile took an uneasy step backward. “I—I don’t think—”
“Oh, great,” said Remi. “They think we can fly, too?” She placed her hands on her hips.
Just then, as if the tower had heard them, the ground began to tremble. It was a slight rumbling at first, but it grew more and more unstable until they could hardly stand.
“What’s happening!?” Maile shrieked, clutching Remi’s hand.
They heard the heavy thud of armor as Baelie fell onto her behind. Before them, and like the parting of a sea, the ground cracked and split, revealing a narrow, shadowy path that led down and into the eerily silent tower. Puffs of dirt floated on the wind as the girls regained their balance. Remi quickly fixed her hair. Maile adjusted the straps on her helmet, and Baelie polished her armor back to a shine.
“Well, that was an entrance fit for the coming of the new Vice-Captain!” Baelie exclaimed. “I can’t believe we’re about to enter Lady Scylla the Valiant’s tower! What an honor!” She bowed deeply.
Remi stared blankly at her sister. “The ground just opened as if it heard and answered our questions, and that’s what you’re thinking about?! And, Baelie, please, you don’t have to say her entire title every time you speak her name. It’s weird. Super weird.”
“You’re weirder,” Baelie snapped. “And I’m going to tell Lady Scylla the Valiant you said that.”
Remi ignored her and turned to Maile. The poor girl was clearly bewildered and terror-struck.
“It’s ok, Maile,” Remi said in a soothing tone. She looked back at the path. “I’m sure this is normal.” She wasn’t even sure if she believed her own words. “Grounds splitting open and dark eerie pathways. Just typical Force stuff, right? The Empress wouldn’t let something hurt us, remember that.”
Maile looked at her with fearful eyes. “But what if there are monsters in there?”
“Don’t worry,” Remi assured her. “I’m sure they wouldn’t tell us to come if there were monsters. The Empress would be most displeased.” She stood up tall, brushed herself off, and held her chin high. “Most displeased, indeed.”
Maile took one look into the dark crevice and stood there, shaking her head. “I wish they didn’t have such a scary entrance . . . maybe there is another way?” She looked up at the top of the tower, and gulped.
“I could teach you how to fly,” Baelie said, “but I don’t think we have enough time to learn.”
“Oh, please,” Remi rolled her eyes. “You couldn’t fly if you sprouted wings.”
Baelie turned her back to Remi. “You’re just jealous that I’m being summoned and not you.”
Remi looked at her oddly, then chose to ignore it. “It’ll be fine, Maile. I’m sure it’s safe,” she lied.
“All right. Enough dilly-dallying, you two!” Baelie said impatiently. “This is the Tower of Islair! Home to the strongest women in all of Soria, including their beloved captain, Lady Scylla the Valiant!” Unable to wait any longer, Baelie took off, plunging down into the dark passageway.
“Vice-Captain, here I come!”
Remi and Maile tried not to smile, then looked at one another, nodded, and followed their sister. The pathway was wide enough to walk side by side, and the walls of the crevice were lined with gems like burnt rubies. Remi noticed that the walls also had glowing blue veins running through them, illuminating the path with streams of crystallized energy, and with that light, they were able to make their way along. They soon came upon a tall stone door with the insignia of the Empress etched into it— a shield behind a rising spear, with a fire-blowing dragon twisting up the shaft.
“Should we—” Remi was interrupted by a loud voice.
“Open!” Baelie cried, placing her hands on her hips. “Open for your new Vice-Captain!”
“Seriously, Baelie, that’s never going to—”
The great door shook and began to slowly open.
Baelie looked back at her sisters and winked. Remi rolled her eyes. Maile awed.
Walking out, two female guards stared at the three sisters in disdain. They each held out and lowered their silver-tipped spears, placing them across one another, blocking the sisters’ entry.
“Reporting as ordered!” Baelie announced, giving the sorian salute. She made a fist and held it before her chest, then slowly bowed her head. “We are to meet with Lady Enies, in the Valyti.”
“Well, what do we have here, Rakaella?” one of the guards said in a raspy voice.
The guard wore light armor, a short skirt of steel, and a tight crimson tunic layered by links of thin metal; the basic uniform given to all low-ranking soldiers in the Force Corps. She had violet hair, though lighter than Baelie’s, that reached just past her ears. Her face, although quite young, had an irritated expression on it, as if she had been forced to open the tower door too many times that day.
“These are the ones, Lithael,” the second guard said, her tone just as annoyed as the first. She had long silver hair with unkind eyes. She eyed the girls one by one. “How blessed we are to be graced by your presence, beautiful children of the Empress.”
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“Blessed,” said the first guard, but their spears did not lift.
Their introduction gave Remi the feeling that for some reason, these guards had a vendetta against them. But that didn’t make any sense, as Remi had never seen them before in her life. Maile hid behind her, trying with all her might not to be seen.
“No need to fear, I have arrived!” Baelie boasted. “You can lift your spears, good guards!”
“Excellent,” said Rakaella, rolling her eyes. “I feel better already.”
Remi glared at the guards. “Are you going to let us pass or keep us out in the dirt all day?”
After a brief hesitation, the two guards lifted their spears and allowed the three sisters entrance to the tower. Baelie was the first to charge on through, apparently impervious to their remarks, or simply unbeknownst.
“I mean no intrusion,” whispered Maile, bowing, but the two guards ignored her.
Baelie walked quickly into the center of a circular hall. Bright lanterns hung from the walls, and they reminded Remi of the crystallized energy that had lit up their pathway outside. Several ancient-looking relics were mounted alongside the lanterns, from weapons to armor to trinkets, each one placed meticulously before an all-black shield.
“Never thought I’d be standing in here . . .” Remi murmured, as Maile clung to her side.
At the far end of the hall stood a strange cube-like contraption. Clear and transparent from all sides, it was near the size of a large closet. Steam lifted from it constantly, and for all of Remi’s studying, she had no idea what it was. It had a single sliding glass doorway that led into it, but inside it was nothing.
A single emerald gem was placed above the entrance of it with perfect precision, and circling around it were several azure gems. Something about them caught Remi’s eye, and she guessed them to be alchemic gems. An odd mist was all that could be seen from within it.
“What’s that?” Remi asked. “It’s alchemic, isn’t it?”
The guards did not answer her, nor did they turn to look in her direction.
“Fine then,” said Remi, irritated. “You probably don’t even know.”
Still, the guards did not heed her words. Instead, they bickered amongst themselves near the entrance.
“Rakaella, you take them down,” said Lithael. “I had to go last time.”
“Last time?” Rakaella questioned. “When was there a last time we had to do this? This never happens.”
Remi’s ears perked up. What never happens?
Lithael lowered her voice. “Look. That’s not what I meant. I understand that there has never been a summoning for a mission to be given to those outside of the Force before. What I meant was, I was the last one that had to go down there, and now it’s your turn. I hate that damn lift.”
Rakaella ran a leather-gloved hand through her long silver hair, sighed, then turned to the girls. Remi quickly looked away, pretending she hadn’t been listening in on their conversation.
Rakaella shrugged, giving in. “Fine. I’ll take the faux royalty down.” She glanced back at Lithael. “But you owe me one, especially after saving you from Shin and Flaps last night. You were a wreck. I’m surprised you can even walk today.” Rakaella turned back to surprisingly meet Remi’s eyes, who was glaring at her. Rakaella gave her the smuggest smile, then began walking to the center of the hall.
Faux royalty? Remi thought. Great, she’s one of those.
As she neared the center of the room, illuminated stairs rose up out of the ground as if by magic, lifting Rakaella one step at a time to a final circular platform that pieced itself together one stone at a time. Rakaella raised her hand over a symbol of a ring in the stone, and whispered something that could not be heard.
Soft light began to glow from her hand as the symbol on the floor came alive with light. When all of it was alit, an all-black altar rose up to her hand and stopped beneath her palm. The podium, bizarre at best, looked as if dozens of snakes had joined together and been turned to stone. A second later, a final ring began to glow around the altar, like the outer rim of an eclipse.
“Interesting,” said Remi. “A fusion of alchemy and aura.”
“All right, get up here. I don’t have all day,” said Rakaella.
“Where are we going?” Maile asked.
“Don’t ask stupid questions,” Rakaella snapped. “You know very well where you are going.”
Remi went to snap back but stopped as Maile touched her hand. She took a deep breath, easing her frustration, and closed her mouth. She knew she had to be composed for her sister. Walking forward with Maile, Remi climbed the beautiful stone stairs that had grown out of the ground, up until she was standing on the platform alongside her sister.
“Can’t believe they’re the ones,” said Rakaella to the other guard. Lithael smirked and shook her head. Remi shouldered the insult without remark. You are above this, so act like it, she said to herself.
“Let’s go!” Rakaella yelled, clearly lacking patience. “I don’t have all day!”
“We’re here already!” Remi cried out, before realizing Rakaella had been yelling at Baelie, who was nowhere to be seen. Looking around, Remi found her sister, motionless at the end of the hall, looking up at something. It was a long-flowing mural, or a painting, hanging from the wall.
“This is . . .” Baelie whispered, holding her hand out. “This is the story . . .”
The mural hung before her majestically, painted with the many colors of the wind, telling a story near older than the colors themselves. It depicted what looked like a great battle in space, the realm of suns, stars and gods. Within it, the guardians of Soria were converging on a great black beast, cloaked in dark flame, with long horns and sharp red eyes. It had a sleek black sword, and its face was hidden beneath an ivory mask with only a twisting smile upon it.
“Chaos . . .” Baelie whispered, turning her eyes away from the creature.
In the mural, one of the soldiers was flying straight up at it, holding the famous spear of legend, Gungnir. Wings of energy stretched forth from the soldier as he soared upward towards the beast, and a bright light shined from the tip of his spear.
“This is the story of Éiéndrahk,” said Baelie, reaching out and touching it. “The great war, and Lord Avarice . . . I’ve never—”
“By all means, if you want to stay and look at that painting for the rest of eternity, I wouldn’t mind,” announced Rakaella. “Granted, you don’t ever take your eyes off it again, and stay silent forever. You could even grow old and uglier, and perhaps, they might even sculpt a statue of the girl who was stupefied everlastingly by some paint and brushwork. Or, you could get on this damn platform, so I can do my damn job.”
Baelie was silent. Remi tried not to laugh at her sister’s clearly unintentional dream-like state.
Rakaella gritted her teeth, and her voice cracked like a whip. “But if you ever want to see the Valyti with those same dreamy eyes, then I would suggest peeling yourself away from the fantasy and parading your kitchenware-armored self over to this lift! I leave in ten seconds!”
Baelie finally pulled her eyes away from the mural, all the while reciting words quietly under her breath. With clanking footsteps, she ran back to the center of the room and up the stairs. Baelie looked up at the three of them with a spaced-out look still fresh in her eyes.
“That painting is awesome!” Baelie said. “Are we going or what?”
Rakaella grinned a twisted smile and spoke, her words laced in poison. “Such an honor it is to be caught by your awareness, princess.” Before Baelie could understand the sarcasm, Rakaella turned and placed her hand back over the altar.
Remi suddenly felt something hold her feet in place. Her eyes rushed to the ground expecting some type of trap but found nothing of the sort. There was nothing at all holding her. She immediately felt confused. Something was definitely holding her feet down. Was it invisible?
Maile shrieked in fear just as the outer ring separated from the rest of the floor, and the platform plummeted out of nowhere, as if it had simply fallen through the ground. It all happened in the blink of an eye.
The three sisters screamed as the ring lift fell so fast they all thought they were going to die. Remi could feel her stomach lurching into her chest. Turning her tear-stained eyes back up, the light from the lantern-lit tower faded to a little star-like glow before vanishing completely.
“What’s happening!?” Remi shouted, though Rakaella did not answer. Maile was holding her hand as tightly as one possibly could, and Baelie had sunk down to the floor without being able to move her feet. Dizziness overcame Remi, and she fought to retain her consciousness. The darkness was all around her, clouding her, confining her. All she wanted was for it to stop.
Maile didn’t stop screaming. Remi fought with every ounce of her might to not cry out in fear, and fortunately, her pride kept her strong. Despite her fear, showing her weakness to Rakaella would have been far worse. The ring lift then slowed, coming to a sudden halt. Rakaella, whose hair had fallen neatly back into place, looked at Remi with a smirk.
“Scared?”
Remi blew the hair out of her eyes. “Hardly,” she lied. “That was fun.”
“Good,” said Rakaella. “We’re only halfway there.”
“No! Please, no!” Maile cried, but it was too late.
What felt like an eternity later, the lift finally stopped at its destination. Remi and Maile had taken Baelie’s lead, and were crouching down as low as they could to the ground, praying that they wouldn’t come flying off the lift and die. Remi opened an eye to find Rakaella looking down at her.
“We have arrived, princesses. I hope it was as pleasant for you as it was for me.”
Remi struggled with weak legs, and finally, stood to her feet. Her hair was a mess, her skirt was twisted, and her eyes were practically burning coals of anger. Feeling her feet freed of their captivity, Remi quickly made her way off the lift. Maile followed with Baelie swaying close behind.
“Have fun in the Valyti, little foundlings,” Rakaella muttered, and Remi could no longer control her anger.
“What’s your problem!? I swear, if you ever treat us like this again I’ll—”
“What?” Rakaella’s voice cracked. “You’ll run along back to your mother? Oh, my apologies, you don’t have one of those anymore, do you? My mistake. You’ll run back to the Empress and tell her that we gave you a little bit of a scare? That you came all the way to the terrifying Islair Tower and got bullied? Well, I got news for you, princess. No matter how important you think you are, you’re just a feeling of pity in the Empress’s heart. There is a difference between royalty and nobility, and just because you have superseded that line doesn’t mean that you should get treated any better than those who actually were born into royal families.”
Remi felt her heart hammering in her chest. Maile hid behind her. Seizing control of her emotions and finding her better judgment, Remi smoothed out her hair and fixed her skirt. She then met Rakaella’s eyes coldly.
“So, that’s what this is. What is it with the lot of you who feel that you are better than others just because of what bloodline you were born into? You think this is what we wanted?” Remi made a gesture towards Baelie and Maile. “Trust me. We would much prefer to have our own parents still alive and well than to have been adopted into a family where we only have each other and are constantly attacked for being ‘faux royalty’ by others who judge us without even knowing us.”
“Oh, please,” said Rakaella. “You love being spoiled rotten. You love being the little princesses and the feeling of being adored by everyone and everything. It practically emanates off of you.”
Remi sighed. “The problem here, is that you have this preconceived image of what we are, without actually understanding who we are. And since you have an underdeveloped mind, you allow your naivety to be enabled by your peers, convincing yourself that you see the truth in things. My, how wise you must be! But what you fail to understand is that you might just be wrong in your assumptions. All the best soldiers lack humility, right? Or, was it the opposite?”
Baelie went to speak but Remi cut her off, continuing.
“Let me guess. The crown jewel of royalty herself, the sun’s choice amongst maidens, Miss Lady Theresa, stopped by before we had the pleasure of meeting you. She told you our embellished life stories and all about the path we walked in becoming spoiled little brats who bear the royal name. But it isn’t just that, is it? We were, for reasons unknown, chosen for a mission by your superiors while you are stuck here guarding a boring door in a boring tower and, no doubt, living a boring, unfulfilled life. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say this might be a simple case of envy. I mean . . .” and Remi smiled sweetly. “It’s practically emanating off of you.”