Bright light blinded the three sister’s eyes as the great doors opened, and a cold wind seemed to pass through their very bones. After a few moments of squinting, their vision cleared, and the girls took in their first view of the Valyti.
“Wow,” whispered Maile. “It’s beautiful . . .”
An enormous chamber made of brilliant white stone spread out before them like a snowy blanket. The faint melody of bells and flutes sang through it, as if the very place itself were enchanted. Great pillars of black marble connected the floor to the ceiling, which must have been a hundred feet tall. Along the ceiling itself were long, sharp icicles that hung like spears. The three walked in cautiously.
They were surprised to find that the Valyti was completely open to the sky along its eastern-most edge, allowing the strong winds to soar through unhindered. A few fragments of floating rock sat out in the sky, not far from the hidden entrance to the training grounds. Against the western-most wall, a waterfall passed down from the height of the ceiling towards the floor, where it ran into a stone-guarded creak that traced along the rim of the chamber.
“This is so cool!!” Baelie whisper-shouted. “It’s everything I’ve dreamed of!”
Turning her gaze back to the ceiling, Remi shuddered in fear: If one of the giant icicles were to fall, it would split her like an arrow through an apple. As she was planning her safest walking route, she noticed strange tracks that ran along the ceiling and back through the ceremonial door that they had entered from. She wondered if the tracks led back to the glass cages holding the beasts, and that maybe they were used to transport the creatures into the Valyti.
“Unreal . . .” Remi said. “Hard to imagine sorians built all of this . . . Even with alchemy.”
Maile was still close at her side. Meanwhile, Baelie was a few paces behind, whose eyes were still wide open in absolute awe, taking in every bit of the Valyti.
“Is that a person out there?” Maile asked, pointing out at the sky.
Remi followed Maile’s finger. There was indeed someone out there, a young woman, if she had to guess. She was standing still on one of the floating rocks in the sky. Her hair was pale blue and wavy, falling down to her shoulders, and strapped across her back was a beautiful ivory bow.
Feeling vibrations in the ground, Remi realized that the place had been shaking ever so slightly since they had arrived. The distant drumbeat of what sounded more and more like hammers pounding into stone began to grow faster and stronger, stealing away her curiosity.
In the center of the chamber, Remi found another young woman, with long scarlet red hair, and her hands tied up to the elbows in black wraps. The woman was striking one of the tall marble pillars over and over with her fists. The stone cracked and splintered with each blow, but for some reason, it never broke.
Walking closer to get a better look, Remi realized that the stone was regenerating after each blow nearly instantaneously. The pounding of the woman’s fists grew faster and faster until Remi could no longer make out the time between each one, and the thunder of her blows broke the once tranquil state of the Valyti. With a sudden final punch, the woman stopped and stood still, her arms stiff at her sides. Blood seeped onto the floor from her ravished knuckles.
“Well, what do you know, it seems you’ve made it,” said a familiar, sarcastic voice. It was a voice Remi hoped she would have never heard again.
Unfortunately, thought Remi. I knew I would find you here.
Turning to face the voice, Remi found Theresa standing before them. Her long golden hair, perfectly coiffed, fell gracefully past her shoulders. She had her hands on her hips, staring the three of them down. Remi’s eyes flicked to her chest, prominently more grown than her own, and a spike of envy shot through her.
“You’re late,” observed Theresa, as Baelie came to stand with them. She saluted proudly, but Theresa only looked at her with an odd expression. “I believe I said within a turn of the shade.”
“Maybe if you hadn’t shredded my book into a thousand pieces, we would have gotten here sooner,” Remi answered with heavy defiance. “And there’s no way we could have made it this far in a single shade anyway.”
Baelie’s mouth dropped, appalled by Remi’s blatant disrespect.
“Please excuse my sister, Lady Theresa!” Baelie saluted again. “My apologies for being late!”
Baelie’s apology irritated Remi more than anything, and she rolled her eyes.
“Ah, your book,” said Theresa. “Yes, I felt pained by your loss. So, I wanted to do something kind for you in return.” Vanishing in a wisp of air, Theresa reappeared a few moments later, holding out an exact copy of Remi’s novel, the one that had been destroyed earlier that day.
“Here you are,” she said, tossing it to Remi. “No hard feelings, alright?”
Remi caught the book, and all her feelings of hatred towards Theresa almost vanished. She still resented her for destroying something she had owned since she was little, but she was grateful that Theresa had gone through all the trouble of finding her a new one. That was, until she realized that the book had almost certainly been destroyed before Theresa had even had a chance to glimpse the title. Or so she thought.
Remi suspiciously looked the book over. It looked identical to the original. She opened it to the very first page. Her eyes narrowed as she read the first and only line of the book.
‘Ha, ha . . . Sucker!’
“You jerk!” Remi shouted, throwing the book straight back at Theresa’s face. But she was too fast, and the book missed her by a longshot. Remi suddenly felt a strong hand fall on her shoulder, one that was certainly not one of her sisters. She turned to see tears streaming down the cheeks of Theresa, who was laughing so hard she looked like she would faint from lack of air.
“I – was – hoping you would – open it here!”
Losing all composure, Remi swung her fist at Theresa. She felt it smack into something, hard, and the bones in her frail little hand cracked. Her stomach lurched with the sudden explosion of pain, but the sight of what had stopped her was even worse.
Standing before her was an exotic young woman with dark, sun-kissed skin. She had long wavy white hair, and her expression was stern and sharp, like a strict teacher in school. The solid steel wall that Remi had struck was in all actuality, the young woman’s palm. She held Remi’s hand in her grip, locked as if within a vice. Desperately, Remi tried to pull her hand free, but to no avail. Fear ran through her, her thoughts becoming dark and convoluted, as if the young woman’s presence were creeping into her, cutting away the very secrets of Remi’s soul and skinning them bare. A roil of nausea overcame Remi, and she struggled not to collapse.
“Do not think for a moment, young lady of the castle, that you would not be struck down where you stand for raising your hand against one of us. The Valyti is our realm. Respect shall be given where it is deserved.”
“My apologies for my ignorant sister, Lady Arya!” Baelie said, saluting fervently. Her face was flushed with embarrassment, but a part of her was also scared for her sister. “Please, forgive her!”
Arya gave Remi one last hard look before releasing her fist. She stood tall next to Theresa, who was practically in tears, not trying to hold back in any way.
The instant Remi was free her senses were released, as though she had been drowning and just barely reached the surface. With every ounce of her remaining strength, she forced back the tears that were not from the physical pain of her hand, but rather from the force of Arya’s mind.
“Theresa,” Arya said coldly. “You’re out of line. This is hardly anyway to welcome our guests.”
“My apologies,” said Theresa with a smirk.
“Maybe you’d like to try one of your pranks on me next time,” said Arya, facing her. “We’ll see how tough you are when you’re not bullying those weaker than you, but rather someone of your own strength. What do you think, want to give it a go?” Arya’s fingers cracked one by one into a fist, a confident grin appearing on her face.
“No, no,” said Theresa, holding up her hands. “My apologies, Lady Arya, you are right.”
“Then you may go,” said Arya. “I will take it from here.”
Theresa bowed, then took her leave.
Despite feeling angry towards Arya for hurting her, Remi couldn’t help but take a tad bit of delight in seeing Theresa completely overcome with a few simple words. Whoever this Arya was, she must have been stronger than the number five in the Force.
Other than Arya’s darker skin and starlit hair, she wore an outfit similar to Theresa’s. A beautiful silver breastplate was worn over her chest. Upon her legs were battle-worn leggings, and blackish boots clad her feet. However, she had no leather over her arms, and where Theresa wore a short steel-linked skirt, Arya wore a skirt that looked like dozens of thin daggers bound together.
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Remi met Arya’s eyes and wished she hadn’t. There was something far different about her compared to Theresa. She had a certain air about her, something that gave Remi the spooks. Remi froze as she read the number etched in black ink on Arya’s shoulder.
She swallowed hard – it read in one elaborate black rune, the number 4.
So, I was right, thought Remi. She is a higher rank than Theresa.
“I suggest you learn your place, princess,” Arya said. “For the Valyti is not the place for rash behavior and unnecessary violence. With that being said, you need not fear this place, if you respect it. We are the defenders of the Empress, the people of Soria, and even her children,” Arya bowed her eyes. “I hope your hand isn’t too hurt.”
Remi said nothing and simply nodded. She had too much pride to admit just how much her hand really did hurt, and she wondered if it was broken. Just then, she felt a gentle touch on her shoulder and the pain in her hand began to ease. Auric traces of natural energy lifted off Remi’s fingers. She looked up in wonder at Arya, and Remi watched her smile for the first time.
“Here is some energy to heal what may be broken. And you know, that was pretty brave what you did, openly attacking a member of the Force in this place. Pretty brave and pretty foolish. But I guess the two often travel hand in hand. Maybe, one day, you’ll have a place among us.”
Remi forced her own smile. Over my dead body, she thought.
Baelie collapsed beside Remi, her forehead resting flat on the ground. The words Arya spoke had brought her entire world crashing down. She was the one who was supposed to be getting words like that from the Force, not her stupid older sister who couldn’t care less.
Remi looked down at Baelie, trying not to laugh.
“Now, come with me,” said Arya. “We have some time before Vice-Captain Lady Enies will speak with the three of you. She is just finishing her early-evening training. I can show you around this place in the meantime.”
Remi’s eyes flicked back to the center of the Valyti, finding the woman who had been punching the pillar. She vividly remembered her ravished and bloody knuckles dripping blood onto the cold, white floor. The woman was still standing there, and Remi shivered as she watched her light a long wooden pipe. She was most certainly the Vice-Captain that Arya was talking about.
“Thank you, Lady Arya!” Baelie said, saluting again and again. “We would love to!”
Remi turned back to Arya, taking her in for a second time. Now where have I heard her name before? She stopped suddenly, remembering a whisper about a certain Lady Arya saving a village in Risia from a rogue kushala flare. Her thoughts flashed back to the sinister words of Beliosr, and her eyes grew wide with realization. She’s the one . . . who captured him!? Arya met her eyes and grinned, as if reading her mind. Remi turned away, trying to find something else to steal her attention.
Something else, something else, something else, wait, where’s Maile?
Remi then realized that Maile was nowhere in sight. She scoured the Valyti for her little sister, feeling her worry seep into her mind like blood into water. She finally found her, standing in front of a strange translucent cage not too far away. Oh gosh, not another cage, for the love of the gods!
From where Remi was standing, there appeared to be someone, perhaps another young woman, sitting cross-legged inside of it. Maile had her hands pressed up against the glass, her attention completely grasped. Remi bowed quickly to Arya, then ran over to Maile.
“Wait, what are you doing, Remi!?” Baelie started, before realizing that Maile wasn’t with them anymore.
“Sorry about my sister,” said Baelie, looking up at Arya. “She’s a bit of a priss.”
Arya laughed. “Don’t worry about it. You must be Baelie. I’ve heard a lot about you. Now, we should probably not stray too far from your sisters. I have a feeling they’ll only get themselves into more trouble. Shall we?”
Baelie was beaming from ear to ear. “Yes, Lady Arya, yes! Of course, we shall!”
Remi soon found herself standing next to Maile, her eyes transfixed on what was happening in the strange, translucent cage. Within it was a young woman, sitting in silence. A red glow emanated from something clutched within the young woman’s hands. She sat cross-legged with her eyes closed, as small rays of light dashed and danced wildly about the rest of the cage. Remi tried to follow them with her eyes, but they were too fast.
“What the heck are they?” Remi asked.
“I don’t know,” whispered Maile. “But . . . I don’t know, I feel, calmer around this.”
Remi had learned one thing by the time Arya and Baelie had caught up to them. The young woman sitting within the center of the racing lights was a member of the Force. The number 7 was stitched onto the waist of her robes. She wore all black, including her leather gloves and boots. Even her hair was midnight in color, with the exception of several long blue strands.
The young woman’s eyes were closed, and in her hands was an exceptionally large gem that looked like a ruby. It had dozens of clean-cut edges, and no matter how long Remi stared at it, she could not conjure up an answer as to what it might be. It seemed at first glance a simple ruby, but something inside told Remi it was not something so simple. Inside of the gem, swirls of energy whirled like a storm in a hidden world.
“What is that thing she’s holding?” Maile asked. “It’s really beautiful . . .”
“You have a keen eye, your highness,” said Arya. “That is what’s called a Sacred. Take a good look, as you may never see one again in all your life.”
As Remi leaned in for a better view, one of the dashing lights came to a stop directly in front of her, and she came face to face with a tiny white creature. It stared at her innocently for a moment as it floated midair, and it was in that moment that Remi decided she had found the absolute cutest creature in all of existence.
“Hi there,” whispered Remi, placing her hand on the glass. “What’s your name?”
“Oh my gosh!” Maile squealed. “It’s so cute!!”
It looked like a tiny flying kitten, blanketed in fur of such perfect white that it seemed to glow. Its little flapping wings were a blur, and it cocked its head to the side, looking at Remi. Except for its petite pink nose, and its little ears and tail which were completely black, the creature looked as though it had spent shade after shade rolling in freshly fallen snow. The blue of its eyes was so serene that Remi felt lost even looking into them. The instant it had made eye contact with her, a tranquil calm flowed through her. Then, the creature turned back toward the ruby and was gone, transforming itself back into a flash of light.
A soft voice broke her concentration. “They are amazing, aren’t they?” mused Arya.
Remi turned to see Arya leaning her hand on the glass container. Arya’s eyes had a certain gentleness in them as she stared at the creatures, as if she were appreciating them for something more important than Remi could perceive.
“Are they . . . what I think they are?” Remi whispered, looking back at the creatures. Maile was the same, entranced by their pure nature, cast into a state of silent unawareness. Even Baelie was leaning against the cage, purely focused on them.
“Tree spirits?” Arya answered. “Yes, these beautiful creatures are the tree spirits of Soria.”
“Why do you trap them in a cage?”
“Trap?” Arya laughed. “One cannot hope to trap these creatures. They are eternal spirits born of the Great Trees. They entered this cage of their own free will and with one singular purpose. Lady Zeila is holding a Sacred—a stone that holds the soul of a creature who left this world with some form of regret. Because of that, its soul crystallized into its heart, creating the gem she now holds.”
“Whoa,” said Baelie. “That’s possible?”
“Yes, that and so much more,” continued Arya. “The Sacred are lost souls that unknowingly cry out to the tree spirits who seek them out in order to return them to the Great Trees. Only when they are returned to one of the Great Trees can their souls truly find rest. This here is a part of our training, young master Baelie.”
“How is this training?” Remi asked, unsure if Arya was telling the truth about trapping them or not. No matter how Arya phrased it, it sure looked like they were being kept against their will. Why else would they be acting so crazy in there? Yet deep down, Remi felt the need to imprison one in her room forever.
“Don’t let their looks deceive you,” remarked Arya. “The tree spirits are tenacious little creatures. They will do any and all in their power to bring the Sacred back to the Great Trees. We use this special cage, and the Sacred, as a test of self-control. The Valyti is the realm of the Force, but something much more than that. There is an older understanding that comes from being here for long periods of time.”
“Cooool . . . .” said Baelie. “I wanna stay here forever.”
“What do you mean, ‘an older understanding?’” Maile asked.
Arya lifted her arms, showcasing the chambers. “Here, in the Valyti, we train to overcome all the dark parts of our souls, to cleanse ourselves of any evils and weaknesses. A tree spirit will only harass those who have traces of anger or greed in their hearts, for it is that which threatens the Sacred. It takes an enormous amount of patience to overcome this task, for they are unrelenting little creatures and will do everything in their power to overpower you. Even now, Zeila is struggling immensely. I know this because I took the longest of all the Force to surpass this challenge.” Arya shed a thoughtful look, remembering something the three of them would never know.
Remi looked closer at Lady Zeila and noticed that, indeed, beads of sweat were dripping down her face. She was trembling and bleeding from tiny bite marks and scratches from the spirits. They had been moving so fast that Remi had not noticed but they had been attacking the young woman the whole time. The idea of completing the task suddenly made Remi feel dizzy and a bit sick.
“But what’s the point of this training?” Remi asked.
“Simple,” said Arya. “Once you have sat for long enough, and eradicated all anger and greed from your heart, the Sacred itself, or the soul of the creature, will accept you. When that happens, the tree spirits will as well. They will then become calm, like the tranquility of your heart when you stare into their eyes, and they will slowly, one by one, go to sleep at your feet.”
“Wow,” said Baelie. “And then you get that older understanding you were talking about?”
“Something like that,” said Arya. “But there is something else you attain by making peace with oneself. If you are able to find that peace, and the soul of the Sacred accepts you, then you have the chance of making a pact with the creature within. It is an eternal pact, but also an alternative method for the soul of the creature to find its own peace, as opposed to being taken to the Great Trees.”
“I don’t think I could do it,” said Maile. “Do all Sacred look like that? And what does a pact do?”
“One question at a time, my dear. For starters, with the exception of a few Legendary Sacred, none of which I have ever seen, all are the color of rubies. We don’t even know if the Legendary Sacred exists. To be honest, if none have ever lived to witness the presence of one, one must ask, how can they?”
“I know of no one who has witnessed the presence of our Lady Vale,” said Remi. “But that doesn’t stop nearly everyone from believing that she watches over us.”
“A wise point. But we mustn’t forget that the Empress has, indeed, met our Lady Vale.”
“Or so myth would have us believe,” Remi added.
Arya gave Remi a long studying look. “You would be surprised of the truth hidden in myths, young princess.”
Before Remi could say anything, Maile interrupted.
“But what about the pacts?” Maile asked. “What do you mean by that?”
Arya was quiet for a moment. “It is an ancient practice that allows one to fuse the soul of a passed creature with their own soul. It can be extremely dangerous and even fatal, for the souls of two were never meant to merge. Yet, sometimes, and very rarely, they can complete one another. This allows certain abilities of the creature to become your own, and ultimately, certain traits to become one with the Pact Master.”
“Certain traits—?” Remi began, but was cut off by Baelie yelling at them from a distance.
“Maile!” Baelie cried from afar. “Look! I found a honey tree! A real honey tree!”
With a look of annoyance, Remi found Baelie standing at the base of a strange, amber-colored tree. It had no branches, save for one that stretched away from its trunk. Hanging from the lone branch was something that looked strikingly similar to a massive beehive.
“Baelie! Get away from that! Don’t go near the tree!” Arya cried out, vanishing. A gust of wind blew back both of the sister’s hair in the wake of her movement, and Remi blinked, trying to catch up with what happened.
“I daresay, I’m never going to get used to that,” muttered Remi.