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

21.05.2024- 14:00 UTC +3.00

After the discussion with Salva, I took the whole evening and the next morning to wrap my head around what I had learned, shifting around in my room. I eventually decided to try cooperating with my captors – or saviors if I were to believe him. This way, I thought, I would understand more about my situation. It was early afternoon, after eating lunch alone in my room that I decided to ask the young man who was responsible for me to finally introduce me to the rest.

“Liang Hanying. You can call me Hani,” the woman in front of me said in perfect Spanish, while her appearance and name betrayed her Asian descent.

“She is our Instructor, and I am Oriol,” said the young man who since extracting me from the makeshift camp in the Chinese District has always been by my side, watching over whatever I did. He had just introduced me to this thirty-something-year-old woman with long black hair and a striking unusual beauty.

“Ángel Vázquez,” I blurted out, not even thinking before giving my full name, copying the Instructor. It was common courtesy to reveal your last name if the other person did as well. In a world full of Curses that could use your given name at birth, such an action exhibited higher trust and respect. I did not doubt that both of them would communicate my full name to all who needed to know it within the day. I bit my lip but then continued, “Nice to meet you Hanying.”

My accent was quite good, as spending most of my time in the Southern Chinese District and learning Mandarin in school I had a good grasp of the language.

Hanying picked it up and proceeded in Mandarin.

“You can trust your name in my, mister Vázquez. We are here for the same reasons.”

Oriol looked between us somehow annoyed.

“She is responsible for Unit Bermellón. That’s where you and I belong,” he explained in Spanish.

“Cute,” I responded.

Hanying waved at both of us to walk towards the elevator. I tried to remind myself that this building was designed as an apartment complex and not a military base, especially when I found shocking things like silly little elevators in it. It even played soothing music when in it.

“So, what does this so-called unit do?’ I asked.

“She instructs us. We have quite a few units, groups of Cursed, each unit around a dozen people.” Oriol explained, and Hanying smiled.

“Bermellón is a new Unit. We made it with old and new recruits, right after the domain collapsed,” Hanying said. The elevator indicated we reached floor 7 via a distorted ring of a bell.

“Okay, who is we?”

“What did Salvador explain exactly?” Oriol seemed annoyed at my ignorance.

“We are Escapadas. All of us,” Hanying said making a point of using the female version of the word in Spanish “Cursed and non-Cursed, all working to escape the Trastamara Domain.”

“And you are lucky we found you now. Our members have been increasing in the past months, this is the best we have been,” Oriol added.

I somehow already assumed that this was a group of reactionaries or terrorist rebels. I had trouble picturing it, as there was no mention of such a group in the local media, and at least I had never heard of something like that existing in N.T. The premise was also a bit nonsensical; there was nothing to escape from or to. This was the only safe place for us, with the Antarctic cold surrounding us for thousands of miles outside the Spanish Colonies.

As we walked outside the elevator, I noticed it must have felt considerably colder, as Hanying and Oriol zipped their jackets tighter. I did the same, although admittedly I felt no difference. There were quite a few people around, but most of them were not at a desk or working on a computer as on the other floors. A couple chatting in one room, a few more exercising in another one. I had to remind myself that this building used to be a residential one, and these rooms were family apartments.

“Why did the members increase?”

Oriol shrugged. “The domain probably is weakening. More and more people are not affected by the Queen’s hexes. I don’t get it, but it works for us.”

Oriol talked about the topic in such an aloof way, that I sensed he did not know Salva’s theory about my Curse and how I was possibly related to the Trastamara domain.

“Who knows how these things work,” Hanying said in Mandarin, looking at me. She winked and smiled, hinting that she knew or suspected something. I could not decide if that made me more or less awkward around her. She continued in Spanish. “Domains are not my specialty. But I know quite a lot about Curses, and I help awaken them.”

“As I said, she is the Instructor,” Oriol said, “and here we have the one and only Bermellón seer! Cecilia!”

A young woman was sitting across a hall, in an empty room, in a meditating pose. I shifted awkwardly where I was standing. I have been meeting and talking to more people over the past few days than I used to talk in school. Socializing was not my favorite pastime.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“CECILIA! Oy!” Oriol yelled at the woman, who tilted her head in desperation. We walked towards her, as she started standing up.

“Oriol you sweaty pig, stop oinking,” she cussed and then followed up with more profanities.

I blushed hearing these words come out of her mouth. Hanying noticed and chuckled.

“That’s just how they greet each other,” she said in Mandarin, in a mix of an understanding and condescending tone.

“The newcomer finally decided to join our team,” Oriol said, “Come say hi.”

Cecilia looked right at me and smiled. She was a bit taller than most women I had met – but then again, most women I had met in my life were just now finishing high school. Her face exhibited a different beauty, a somehow androgynous style, and a lovely smile.

“Hanying, have you lost your mind, that is a child,” she said in Mandarin.

“Almost eighteen and I speak Mandarin,” I hastily added. Cecilia flicked her tongue and widened her eyes.

“Okay great,” Oriol scoffed, “do I need a translator?”

“Our Warden is right, let’s be respectful and let him join our discussion.” With Hanying’s command, both Cecilia and I nodded.

“Did he say eighteen?” Cecilia asked looking at the Instructor.

“He will be under my tutelage. Oriol, as a Warden, it will be your duty to protect young Ángel and keep him out of trouble. Cecilia, I expect you to keep them both under your ever-vigilant sight. Understood?”

Both nodded. Hanying winked at me and then she left without saying more.

Cecilia turned to me.

“So. What can you do?” Oriol looked at both of us interchangeably.

It was widely known that inquiring about one’s Curse was rude. That being said, I never considered myself being Cursed, and I did not even know how to answer that question myself.

“I don’t know. I don’t even think I am Cursed, but Salvador insists,” I said, “I think I am supposed to prove him right.”

Cecilia bit her lip.

“Hm, I love me a good mystery. What do you think?” She asked Oriol.

“He survived the collapse,” Oriol said, “so whatever it is, it is powerful enough.”

Cecilia started walking down the hall, and Oriol jumped right next to her, almost ignoring me.

“Some warding hex maybe? Or an ice-related curse. That would be quite handy!” Cecilia said excitedly, while she and Oriol started throwing wild guesses.

I just stood there looking at them walking away. Their excitement had me frozen like a deer in front of a truck. I was taught all my life not to think about Curses and the Cursed.

“Oy Angel, move your culo,” Oriol yelled at me, snapping me out of my string of thoughts. They were already almost turning around in the hallway. I ran behind them.

We didn’t walk long, although listening to both listing possible Curses made it seem way longer. I resisted the urge to reveal to them what Salva thought, and it was telling that none of their guesses was about a Domain Curse. It was not simply rare – it was unheard of. Only the Royals had a Domain, and these people were Escapadas.

We reached what seemed to be a huge living room with a television and a kitchen. Someone had gone into a lot of effort to transform this recently destroyed apartment into a big leisure room: different couches were lined up, around a big television, the windows were enhanced glass to insulate from the cold, and the kitchen had a functioning coffee machine and fridge.

A few people were already there, most of them part of Unit Bermellón. Cecilia briefly discussed with all of them, exhibiting her social butterfly skills, while Oriol introduced me to most of them. I tried to remember most names and faces, but my social anxiety blurred most of them into the same person. I purposefully stayed near Oriol and once people realized I had nothing interesting to say, they left us be.

“You will get used to it,” Oriol said, “I was younger than you when I joined. I am now twenty.”

I looked at him and wondered how long he had been part of this organization. But for the first time since I had met him, a part of me relaxed. He understood me somehow, and Hanying had assigned him to stand by my side.

“I…” I almost said and then the most peculiar thing happened. It felt like someone; actually not just someone, Salvador, whispered right into my ear.

--Find a television and have a look.

The whisper ended as quickly as it came, and it felt as if a passing breeze shuffled my hair. I turned towards Cecilia, whose facial expression revealed she had sensed something similar.

“Can we turn the television on?” I asked. Most people ignored me, but then Cecilia yelled at one of them who was sitting on the couch. He quickly clicked on the remote control and a shaky image from the capital of the Colonies sprung right onto the screen.

“Are these the Santiago Towers?” Someone asked, and Cecilia shushed them.

The drone footage was live from the balconies where the Queen was giving a speech surrounded by the Royal family.

“We will dissolve the shadows surrounding our domain. The royal domain is stronger than ever before!” The Queen declared. She raised her hands and light emanated from them, a dazzling display of her Sun keeping the Trastamara domain in a different climate than the rest of the unwelcoming Antarctica. “I bear the light of our foremother, and I shall cast it onto you,” she continued with her speech. The room’s attitude turned sour.

“Why are we listening to this bruja?” Someone asked. A few chuckled, but some waited anxiously to hear what the Queen had to say.

Something grasped my attention. The pull was immediate.

“The man next to the Queen. Who is he?” I asked unable to move my attention away from him.

“That is Marcelo Trastamara. The heir to the throne,” Cecilia said.

“Marcelo Trastamara, I see,” I said, and as I whispered his name, I was no longer in the abandoned apartment complex with the rest of the Escapadas.

The light on my side blinded me, and so did all the drones’ lights flying around us, with their cameras and flashes.

I was standing right next to the Queen, on the balcony high on the Santiago Towers.

I panicked and looked around frantically for an exit. Where was I? Who was I? What was happening?

Then everything went dark.

“The Prince! The Prince! Somebody, bring the doctor!”