76°00’S 53°43’E – Nuevo Trujillo, Spanish Antarctic Colonies

20.05.2024- 21.30 UTC +3.00

I stretched my legs, bored in my tiny room. I missed my home and my family. But I could not leave – they would not let me. I was not even allowed to make a phone call, and I was sure at this point my family was probably having my funeral, certain I was a piece of ice somewhere in the Chinese District.

They knew I would be on the Paseo that day, my mother had even – ironically – scolded me for going without a jacket. And now, I was lying in a specially made suit, covered in wool and hexes, making sure I could comfortably withstand the Antarctic cold.

I was in that room for more than a day and my anger and panic was all but gone. In the first hours, I did not care, I was just happy to have a room to rest. But then, when they would not let me leave, I realized I had not been saved. I had been captured. That man, the one with the glowing rune on his hand, had led me successfully somewhere in the Northern Chinese District, to what I hoped would be answers to my questions. But all I had found was this cozy cell.

I kicked the edge of the bed. It was annoying how good I had been sleeping and resting there. The food they brought me was also nice, and sometimes I had to remind myself I was a prisoner. The problem was, I was not clear what I was imprisoned for.

When the domain at the Paseo collapsed, I survived it. That was not a crime, right? Or perhaps it was? Maybe the government wanted the domain to fall, and a survivor was a problem. And then the people that had me closed up in a room now were some kind of paramilitary organization, tasked to keep me away from everyone.

I scoffed. I had been left alone in my own head for way too long. This scenario made no sense.

“Here we go.” The door opened. The young man who had led me here was standing right in front of it. He showed me a pair of manacles on his left hand. “Will you need these? Or can you just follow me in silence? I would much rather not use these.”

“Where are we going?” I asked. I was not planning to fight back, there was nowhere to run. We were in an abandoned, half-wrecked skyscraper somewhere in the frozen parts of the Chinese District. Only parts of it were safe and untouched by the cold, secured by specialist Cursed people belonging to this group.

“He is here to see you. He took the trip just for you.” The young man answered.

“Who is he?” I asked, but the man only smirked. With a wave of his hand, he implied I should just get up and follow him.

And I did. The building was occupied by more people wearing the same suit as we both did. They all stared as we passed by their rooms. It was bizarre walking through that building; it must have been a simple residential high-story house before the cold cloud hit it. Now, this militia was occupying rooms such as kitchens, playrooms, and nurseries and had turned long hallways into operation centers. However, there was an improvisation to everything around me, that I could not exactly explain.

I followed silently the young man through a hallway and the stairs to higher floors. I peeked through the window of the staircase. We must have been at least on the ninth or tenth floor, as it looked higher than I have ever lived in an apartment. The outside was covered in snow.

“Alright. That’s your cue.” The man said, pointing to a door.

“Are you not coming?” I asked.

“I will sit this one out.”

I felt my throat dry a bit, and I let out an awkward cough. The man opened the door and pushed me in.

Whatever the room used to be before, now it was entirely emptied. Only a few objects were in strategic positions: a desk with a lamp and a bottle of water on top, and two chairs on opposite sides. I did not need to be an expert to recognize an interrogation room. I had seen enough movies. As a reflex, I turned around to count my exit routes.

The door behind me led to where exactly I had come from. The closed glass windows into a ten-story fall. I guess that was it. I would have to go through whatever this was and just hope that whoever was going to interrogate me would believe me when I said that I had absolutely no clue what was happening.

“This is not an interrogation, Ángel.” A manly voice interrupted me, trying to counter my worries. A man in his forties, wearing a worn-out version of my suit entered the room from another door. He had hair reaching his shoulders and a kind look in his eyes, almost apologetic. He approached in slow steps. “This is, at the very least, a confession. Would you like to sit?”

“I… yes,” I said, heading to the chair. The man mirrored my move and sat at the same time I did.

“You have been treated well, I hope.”

“I can’t complain,” I answered uncomfortably, “well, I would like to be able to leave though.”

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The man nodded in understanding.

“I am sure you do. And after this conversation, I assure you, you will have the choice to do so. But before that, I want to make sure you understand what is happening.” I could tell the man was carefully choosing his words. He maintained a calm demeanor almost like when in a funeral: he seemed honest, but at the same time somber about his honesty.

He noticed that I was staring at him.

“You are freaking me out,” I blurted out and then bit my lip.

He chuckled.

“Yes, you are right. I forgot my manners. I am Salvador. Salva for short. You have no reason to fear me. I cannot hurt you. To be entirely honest,” he said and paused “I am the one that fears you.”

“Uhm, okay.” I smiled at his stupid comment. Was this his way to make me feel comfortable? What did that mean?

“Ángel, do you know what a domain is?”

“Like the Trastamara Domain? What keeps us warm? Well, kept.”

“Yes, like the Trastamara Domain.”

“It is a curse, right? Magic. Some Cursed people have this power, to protect lots of people.” I explained what I had learned in history at school.

“Did you know there are many domains out there?” Salva asked.

“Well, I assume London is also under one. I know in Spain they are illegal. Only allowed here in the Colonies, to protect us.”

“New London is a whole other story. But you are right. Domains have been a problem in the past. Domains are the most powerful and rare type of Curse. A way for a Cursed to influence cities, states, even whole countries.” Salva poured some water into one of the glasses. He whispered into it.

“It is easier if I show you. I am Cursed with Insight. I can offer it to you, freely, if you agree.” He handed the glass of water to me. It seemed unusually clear and transparent, even more so than water usually did. Something I could not picture before seeing this with my own eyes.

“Salvador?”

“Salva is fine.”

“Salva. What does this have to do with what happened in Paseo?” I asked, terrified of the answer.

He nodded and pointed at the glass of water. Annoyed, I drank it up, and as I did, mist engulfed us both. We were no longer sitting in a room, but we were hovering among the clouds. I saw him move his lips.

“Follow my voice,” he said, the voice reaching me not in sync with his mouth. “I will guide you through the Insight.”

“Okay,” I said as if I felt like falling through the clouds.

“Domains have been used for many purposes. Europe was plagued by wars for a good century, when aspiring Cursed used their domains to define their territory.”

“The Great War?” I asked.

“Yes. Domains were used extensively. Protective, aggressive, controlling. Sometimes respecting political borders. Sometimes not.”

As I fell through the clouds, I could see balls of fire, missiles, and airplanes around us. Women and men cried. Whispers carried hexes in the wind.

“After the wars, most countries in Europe signed a treaty that forbade domains. Anyone with a domain Curse had to be registered and monitored. Even sent to exile, if that’s what’s necessary. Some domains are stronger than others, Ángel. And two domains cannot coexist.

“Humanity has thrived in Antarctica because of them. When the House of Trastamara reached here centuries ago, the First Queen established one of the most long-standing domains in history. This kind of domain is not recreated. Only inherited and expanded. A domain that protects from all cold and binds us all into the House’s will.”

We hovered over the Antarctic colonies. I could see the trains connecting through all the major cities. Santiago’s towers, the defining characteristic of the capital’s skyline, grew tall.

“The House’s will?”

“The Cursed can control everything their powers allow, within their domain. You must understand that. Everyone in a domain is at the mercy of its ruler.” He said and continued.

Controlled? By whom? The Queen? This sounded like a wild conspiracy theory. But the Insight continued.

“What had started as an experiment, had evolved into a utopia. Generation by generation, royals inherit the domain. An unbreakable one. Until now.”

The towers started crumbling.

“Another domain, meant to be more powerful than even the Trastamara domain, emerges.”

I started flailing my arms around.

“Stop! Stop!” I waved my hands around as if to disperse the mist. The insight stopped immediately. Salva looked at me perplexed, if not surprised.

“What does this have to do with me? What are you insinuating?” I asked trying to catch my breath.

Salva did not move an inch. He looked ready to say something but did not dare move.

“That I have something to do with the domain falling? That I killed all these people?” I felt the whole room turn around. This made no sense. Or it made a whole lot of sense. I felt tears gathering up in my eyes.

“No, boy.” He grabbed my hands. “Please listen to me. You did not kill these people. The House of Trastamara did.”

“What?” I asked ready to cry.

“You did not kill them. You could only save them! The way you saved yourself. The same way you can save everyone if you learn how to use your curse.” Salva shook my hands and looked into my eyes. “The Sagrada and the Queen brought down the domain because somehow, they sensed you there. Ángel, they culled everyone trying to ensure you die as well.”

“I… I am not Cursed.” I said, calming down.

“That remains to be seen. You are certainly not blessed, my boy. You have much to learn.”