© Faris S. J. 2024. All rights reserved.

Chapter Eight: The White City

Elena’s departure left an immense void, one no one could fill. Though only four days had passed since her death, each day weighed on Luca like bitter centuries. Her absence was not just a loss—it was an earthquake that tore apart the fragile stability of Luca’s life. He was still struggling to recover from the emotional trauma of seeing his dream of becoming a warrior crumble. That dream had been his beacon of hope, fuelled by the unwavering support of his friend Bradley, who had brought strength and purpose into his life. But now, misfortunes followed one another with cruel speed.

In these sorrowful days, Bradley stood firm against the grief that had engulfed the village. Outwardly, he appeared steady, but inside, his heart churned with a tangled mix of profound sorrow and guilt, the sense that he was somehow to blame for what had happened to Elena. He had spent less than two weeks with her family—a family that had welcomed him with open arms and hearts, giving his life new meaning and hope after so many years of emptiness. And yet, those short days were brimming with warmth and tenderness, memories that would remain etched into his heart like stars lighting up the darkness of his past.

Despite his grief, Bradley drew strength from eighty years of experience that had taught him how to endure and be a pillar of support. He resolved to stand beside Luca, reminding him that he was not alone in this storm of loss.

During this period, Bradley noticed that Thomas, the leader of the village elders, was showing particular interest in him and Luca. Thomas had been close to Elena, like family, so it was no surprise that he understood the sorrow consuming them. Yet, there was something else in Thomas’s gaze—something concealed, as though he was preoccupied by an invisible burden.

One day, as Bradley prepared a meal for Luca, trying to pull him from his despair, Luca broke the silence with a decisive tone that carried a deep resolve.

‘Well, I’m going to move to the White City. I’ll start a new life there.’

Bradley turned to him with clear concern.

‘Why such a sudden decision? Why leave your home? This is your place—where you were raised, where your roots run deep.’

Luca replied with unwavering clarity.

‘This is no longer my home, Bradley. It’s no longer where I feel safe or at peace, because my mother isn’t here anymore. She’s gone, and she’s not coming back. If there’s a way to honour her memory, it will be by fulfilling her dreams. I’ll go to the White City, train as a builder, and master my craft. I’ll achieve her ambitions. She dreamed of me becoming like my father, leaving my mark on Desilta, ensuring that my accomplishments endure—just as she hoped.’

A bittersweet smile spread across Bradley’s face, a mixture of admiration, sadness, and surprise. Though astonished by this newfound determination that spoke from Luca’s grief-stricken heart, he saw in him a young man brimming with hope, drawing strength from his mother’s memory. Still, Bradley’s voice carried a note of caution:

‘Luca, if this decision comes from pain or grief, I urge you to think carefully before you move forward. I want you to be sure this comes from deep within, and not as an escape from loss.’

Luca met Bradley’s gaze, his eyes filled with unwavering resolve.

‘Bradley, this decision wasn’t born in a moment. I’ve thought about it many times since I chose my path. I dreamed of telling my mother, of starting a new life together in the White City.’

Bradley studied Luca’s face, seeing a strength he hadn’t expected. Smiling warmly, he said firmly,

‘Alright, Luca. If this is the path you’ve chosen, then I’ll stand by you—as your companion and supporter. We’ll prepare what we need and leave at dawn to begin our new adventure.’

That evening, the two of them began gathering their belongings, determined to embrace a new life in the White City, where Luca’s ambitions awaited him, guided by Elena’s dreams at every step.

That night, Thomas, the leader of the village elders, visited Luca and Bradley’s home. He sat with them, as was his habit, to check on their well-being and offer his steady support. When he learned of Luca’s bold plan to move to the White City, a mix of pride and caution crossed his face. Turning to Bradley, he asked with a tone full of concern,

‘So, you’re going with him to the White City? Is that your final decision?’

Bradley answered without hesitation, his voice firm and unwavering,

‘Absolutely. I won’t leave him alone. I’ll stand by him every step of the way.’

Thomas’s expression remained clouded with worry.

‘Bradley, remember that the matter of the bracelet is still unresolved. If your secret is revealed there, or questions arise about it, you could find yourself in serious trouble. The risks of this decision are not trivial.’

Bradley smiled faintly, attempting to reassure Thomas.

‘Don’t worry, Thomas. It seems everyone has forgotten about the bracelet since the festival. No one has brought it up—not even the Master of Ceremonies, who promised to contact us if he uncovered anything.’

Thomas lowered his head, his gaze distant, as if his mind was lost in contemplation. His voice grew quieter, as though he spoke more to himself than to Bradley:

‘And that’s precisely what worries me… There’s been no mention of your bracelet in any of the nearby villages that attended the festival, even though everyone saw it. This silence is… unsettling.’

Bradley shrugged off Thomas’s concerns, though a shadow of unease flickered in his eyes.

‘Don’t worry. I’ll manage.’

Thomas left them that evening with words of good luck and an air of lingering caution. As the door closed behind him, the two friends exchanged a glance, heavy with anticipation and hope for what awaited them in the White City.

✧ ✧ ✧

The following morning, Luca and Bradley set out for the White City aboard a cart carrying goods and passengers. Among the travellers was Chris, Luca’s close friend. Chris greeted Luca with warmth and introduced himself to Bradley as a distant cousin from northern Desilta.

Not long into the journey, Chris noticed that Bradley’s arm was wrapped in a white cloth, concealing the place where his life bracelet should have been. His brow furrowed in curiosity, and he asked,

‘Why can’t I see your life bracelet, Bradley? Don’t they test for it in the north?’

Before Bradley could respond, Luca interjected smoothly,

‘Bradley will be tested here in our region since he lived outside the Kingdom of Desilta for a long time.’

Chris gave Luca a look of mild surprise.

‘You must not be up to date with the news, Luca… Our region has temporarily stopped holding the Life Path Ceremonies until a new master of ceremonies is elected.’

Bradley’s head snapped towards Chris, a flash of unease in his expression. He chose to remain silent, listening carefully. Luca, however, frowned and asked with confusion,

‘Really, Chris? Why? What happened to the Master of Ceremonies?’

Chris sighed, his voice tinged with sadness.

‘I know you’ve been grieving your mother’s death, so you probably haven’t kept up with the news. The Master of Ceremonies died just a few days ago. His life bracelet dimmed right after the last festival.’

A chill passed through Bradley at Chris’s words. Unable to hide his curiosity, he asked quickly,

‘When exactly did he die?’

Chris raised an eyebrow at Bradley’s sudden interest but answered nonetheless:

‘I don’t know the exact date, but I heard he died four or five days ago—right after the festival.’

Bradley’s gaze met Luca’s, and a silent understanding passed between them. On the same day Luca had lost his mother, the Master of Ceremonies bracelet had gone dark. Both had died on the same day, and both deaths were somehow tied to Bradley.

A deep unease began to take root in Bradley’s mind, as though a dark curse or an unfathomable secret shadowed him. Something he could not yet explain, but its effects were as real as deep, unhealed wounds.

✧ ✧ ✧

When the cart finally stopped outside an inn in the White City, Chris bid them farewell, and Luca quickly arranged for their stay. Bradley watched in mild confusion as Luca spoke to the innkeeper and secured a room without discussing payment. Once inside their modest room, Bradley couldn’t suppress his curiosity any longer.

‘How much is this going to cost us?’ he asked.

Luca turned to him, looking genuinely surprised.

‘Nothing, Bradley. There’s no money in Desilta. Everyone here receives what they need—food, shelter, and supplies—in exchange for their dedication to their chosen path and their hard work.’

Bradley blinked in disbelief.

‘What about the innkeeper? What does he gain from this?’

Luca smiled.

‘The innkeeper follows the path of traders; he wears a yellow bracelet. Our system is harmonious—the builders, traders, servants, and even the guards all support one another. It’s a system of exchange that ensures everyone gets what they need. The guards, for example, protect the inn from danger, while servants provide food and drink to guests.’

Bradley let out a small laugh under his breath, baffled by the oddity of this world. He wondered how such a system would function in his own world. Would it have eliminated the poverty and hardship he had known back home? Despite its apparent perfection, there was something deeply unsettling about this society—something about the life bracelets that gnawed at him.

As they sat quietly in the room, Bradley finally voiced the question burning in his mind:

‘Isn’t it strange that your mother died around the same time as Darren, the Master of Ceremonies?’

Luca looked at him thoughtfully, as though waiting for someone to voice that very thought. He replied carefully,

‘Yes, it is strange. But in the end, it’s just a coincidence… As long as a bracelet’s glow fades, it means the death was natural.’

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Bradley frowned, unsatisfied.

‘But don’t you think there’s something strange about these bracelets? I want to know more—what’s the history behind the life bracelets? Who makes them, and how?’

Luca looked uncertain, but answered.

‘All I know is that the bracelets are made of silver and distributed by the traders during the Life Path Ceremony. No one really knows where they come from or how they’re made. It’s an ancestral secret, part of Desilta’s legacy. Without them, Desilta would abandon us—we would become mere humans again, ageing, falling ill, and eventually dying.’

Bradley’s curiosity deepened, though Luca’s answers left him far from satisfied. He remembered Elena’s warning not to reveal the secret of his white bracelet until the truth was clearer.

The following morning, Luca and Bradley set out for their first day of work in the White City. At the labour distribution square, a foreman assigned them a task: repairing the roof of a house in the eastern part of the city. The moment they arrived at the site, Bradley couldn’t help but notice that the building stood out. Unlike the pristine white architecture surrounding it, the house was built of dark grey stone, giving it an unusual and somewhat foreboding presence.

The owner, a young woman with a face etched with both worry and relief, greeted them at the door.

‘Welcome. There’s a problem with the eastern part of the roof—rainwater keeps seeping through, and I fear the damage will only worsen.’

Luca offered her a reassuring smile.

‘Don’t worry. We’ll fix it for you.’

They climbed to the roof, the heat of the day making their task even more challenging. As they worked to replace the damaged panels, Bradley’s gaze wandered across the structure. Out of habit and experience, he carefully inspected for additional damage. It was then that he noticed something odd—a panel on the western side of the roof was loose. At first glance, the roof seemed perfectly fine, but something about the misalignment caught his eye.

Driven by curiosity, Bradley cautiously pried the panel open. What he discovered beneath made his blood freeze.

Hidden below the roof was a dark, forgotten room, choked with dust and cobwebs. But it wasn’t the room itself that shocked him—it was the figure within. A girl, pale and gaunt, sat chained to a small bed. Her long, unkempt hair spilled over her shoulders, and her white, tattered dress looked as though it hadn’t been changed in years. The chains binding her wrists gleamed faintly in the dim light.

Bradley froze, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. Swiftly, he replaced the panel, his hands trembling. He turned to Luca, his voice low and tense.

‘Luca, come here. There’s something strange you need to see.’

Luca approached, and Bradley carefully lifted the panel again, exposing the girl beneath. Luca stared, stunned, before quickly regaining his composure. He reached out to close the panel, saying firmly,

‘This doesn’t concern us, Bradley. Let’s finish our work and leave.’

Bradley gaped at him. ‘Are you serious? There’s a girl—chained—in there! We can’t just ignore this!’

Luca’s face hardened, though his voice held a hint of unease. ‘We don’t know the full story. Interfering might only bring trouble. Let it go.’

Though reluctant, Bradley didn’t argue further. They finished the repairs in heavy silence, both weighed down by the disturbing discovery. That evening, back at the inn, Bradley couldn’t stop thinking about the girl. The image of her pale face and lifeless form haunted him. Over dinner, he broke the silence.

‘Luca, wasn’t that girl’s situation strange? Why was she chained like that?’

Luca hesitated before replying, his voice uncertain. ‘It was strange… But did you notice her bracelet?’

Bradley frowned.

‘Her bracelet? No, I didn’t. What about it?’

‘It was blue,’ Luca said quietly. ‘But the glow was faint—barely there. That’s unusual.’

‘A faint glow?’ Bradley repeated, his confusion deepening. ‘What does that mean?’

Luca sighed, as though reluctant to explain. ‘In Desilta, the bracelet’s glow reflects a person’s dedication to their chosen path. If someone strays from their path or loses their purpose, the glow begins to fade. If it weakens too much, the bracelet abandons them altogether.’

Bradley stared at Luca, horrified.

‘And what happens then?’

Luca’s voice grew sombre. ‘They become fully human again. They age rapidly, grow sick, and eventually die.’

Bradley fell silent, his mind racing. The idea that a bracelet could dictate life and death seemed monstrous to him, a form of imprisonment masquerading as harmony. After a long pause, he spoke, his tone sharp with disapproval.

‘Isn’t that just another form of slavery? How can you let a bracelet control your lives like that?’

Luca looked at him in surprise, as though the thought had never occurred to him. He had always accepted the system as a natural part of life. Now Bradley’s words planted a seed of doubt.

Later that night, unable to sleep, Bradley found himself standing at the window, gazing out at the silent city. The memory of the girl and her faintly glowing bracelet gnawed at him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong, that the girl’s plight was part of a larger, darker truth.

At dawn, as the sun cast its first golden rays across the white rooftops, Bradley and Luca headed to the city square for the daily labour assignments. Bradley’s heart pounded as he silently wished for an assignment in the eastern district. But his hope faltered when they were instead assigned to a project in the city centre. Trying to mask his disappointment, Bradley couldn’t hide the flicker of regret that crossed his face.

As they prepared to leave, Chris approached them with a cheerful grin.

‘Morning, Luca! Where are you off to today?’

Luca replied calmly.

‘The city centre. What about you?’

Chris beamed.

‘I’m headed to the east! The work there is tough, but the views are stunning.’

Bradley’s eyes lit up with a glimmer of hope. Trying to keep his voice casual, he said eagerly,

‘Chris, would you mind if I tagged along as your helper? I’d like to get a feel for the different parts of the city and the work there.’

Chris glanced curiously at Luca, hesitating for a moment, before saying,

‘Well, I don’t have a helper, so if you’re willing, you’re more than welcome. What do you think, Luca?’

Luca chuckled softly.

‘Of course, Chris! Take Bradley with you—he won’t let you down. My task today is simple; I don’t need any help.’

Luca knew exactly what Bradley was hoping for. Though concerned, he decided to give his friend a chance to pursue the truth.

✧ ✧ ✧

Bradley set off with Chris, their path bringing them closer to the neighbourhood they had visited the day before. As they passed the mysterious house, Bradley fixed his gaze on it, scrutinising every detail, searching for any clues. The house stood still, its windows dark and lifeless. Bradley made a mental note of the route, vowing to return before continuing with Chris on their assignment.

By the time the sun began to dip below the horizon, the sky painted with the warm hues of twilight, Bradley turned to Chris and said in a calm tone,

‘Chris, would you mind if I head back on my own? I’d like to wander around a bit and admire the architecture here.’

Chris smiled, clearly impressed by Bradley’s enthusiasm.

‘Sure thing! I’ll let Luca know you’ll be back later. Enjoy yourself!’

As the darkness gradually enveloped the city, Bradley found himself hidden behind a tree near the house, his sharp gaze fixed on it. Every muscle in his body was tense, ready to react to the slightest movement or sound.

Suddenly, he noticed a faint motion—a figure approaching the house with quiet, deliberate steps. Bradley held his breath, focusing intently, trying to discern the identity of the approaching individual.

Then, as the figure drew closer, Bradley recognised her—it was the homeowner, the woman who had greeted them so warmly the previous day. She carried a small basket covered with a cloth, moving towards the door with quiet, deliberate steps.

She opened the door silently and disappeared inside. Moments later, light spilled from the windows as the interior of the house illuminated.

Bradley remained hidden among the trees, his sharp eyes fixed on the house, watching every movement and shadow with unwavering focus. The minutes dragged by, each one stretching into what felt like an eternity, his tension building like an unrelenting fire. Despite the chill of the night nipping at his skin, sweat trickled down his temples.

Suddenly, after what felt like hours, the lights within the house extinguished, leaving it shrouded in darkness once more. Moments later, Bradley heard the faint creak of the front door opening. The homeowner emerged, stepping out with the same basket in hand. She closed the door softly, as though afraid of waking someone, then walked briskly away, her steps purposeful yet silent.

Bradley’s instincts told him that this house concealed a profound mystery—one he couldn’t ignore. The woman’s furtive behaviour, coupled with her brief visit and the enigmatic basket, ignited an insatiable curiosity in him. Yet, he knew he needed to tread carefully; any rash action could have dire consequences.

Once he was sure the woman had disappeared into the night, Bradley crept closer to the house. His movements were slow and deliberate as he examined the front door, trying to open it. But it was locked tight, and his initial attempt ended in frustration. Refusing to give up, he began circling the house, looking for another way in.

His heart skipped a beat when he noticed a window left slightly ajar. A mix of trepidation and determination surged through him. Approaching the window cautiously, he ensured the area was clear before beginning to lift it ever so slowly. The creak of the window sliding along its frame made him pause, his breath catching in his throat. He froze, straining his ears for any sign of movement within the house. When no sound came, he mustered his courage and continued.

With painstaking care, Bradley climbed through the window. His feet touched the floor silently, though his hands trembled with a mix of excitement and fear. As he steadied himself, a sharp pain lanced through his wrist—he had grazed it against the edge of the frame. Ignoring the sting, he pressed forward, his curiosity propelling him deeper into the house.

Now inside, he knew there was no turning back. The darkness enveloped him like a suffocating shroud, and the silence was eerie, heightening every creak and shuffle of his movements.

He inched towards the staircase leading to the upper floor, each step on the creaking stairs magnified in the oppressive stillness. The sound echoed ominously, as though the house itself warned him to retreat. Pausing after each step, he listened intently, ready to flee at the faintest sign of danger.

Finally, he reached the top of the stairs and made his way toward the western room—the place he was certain the mysterious girl was being kept. His heart pounded violently in his chest as he approached the door, the intensity of his fear and anticipation making every breath feel like a struggle.

As he neared the door, his steps slowed, his breaths shallow and quick. But just as he was about to touch the door, he froze.

From within the room came a hauntingly soft voice—a woman’s voice, carrying a melody of sorrow and despair. She spoke in a hushed tone, her words barely audible, yet they sent chills racing down Bradley’s spine.

The voice, filled with a quiet anguish, whispered,

‘Why do you keep me here? What have I done to deserve this…?’

‘The wait has been long... is it not time for you to shine in white?’

Bradley’s blood ran cold, his body freezing in place as the haunting voice echoed in his mind. He whispered to himself, the words lodging deep in his thoughts like a dagger,

‘Shine in white...?’

His heart pounded as panic gave way to confusion. Was she talking about my bracelet? How does she know about it?

Those cryptic words only deepened Bradley’s conviction that there was a profound mystery at play—one that somehow connected him to this girl.

Driven by an overwhelming curiosity, Bradley acted without considering the consequences. He knocked on the door, his voice trembling but firm as he called out,

‘Can I come in?’

For a moment, silence hung thick in the air. Then, the same voice answered, soft and sorrowful, repeating the exact same words:

‘The wait has been long... is it not time for you to shine in white?’

The repetition sent a chill through Bradley’s spine, but it also strengthened his resolve. This time, he spoke with greater determination.

‘Miss, I need to speak with you. Please, let me in.’

Bradley tried the door, but it was locked tight with a heavy iron bolt. The sight of it only confirmed his suspicions—this girl was not here by choice. The idea of someone being imprisoned in such a way ignited a wave of fury within him. Lowering his voice, now thick with anger, he muttered,

‘Who would do this? What kind of monster locks her away like this?’

From his tool belt, Bradley retrieved a set of small instruments. With steady hands and a racing heart, he began working on the lock, his every motion fuelled by urgency and anger. After several tense minutes of effort, the bolt gave way with a quiet click.

Bradley pushed the door open slowly, stepping cautiously into the room.

The moonlight streaming through a slanted window on the roof illuminated the girl in the corner. She was the same as she had been the previous day, but now her face was clearer in the silver glow—pale and frail, yet heartbreakingly serene. Her sorrowful blue eyes fixed on him, and her long black hair fell over her shoulders like a veil of shadows.

But what caught Bradley’s attention most was the bracelet around her wrist. The blue band emitted a faint, flickering glow, as if on the verge of extinguishing. A shiver ran down his spine as he took a few cautious steps toward her, his voice trembling despite his effort to steady it.

‘I... I’m sorry for intruding, but I saw you yesterday. I don’t know what brought me back here today, but... are you all right? Do you need help?’

The girl’s sorrowful gaze lingered on him, her eyes filled with an unfathomable mix of pain and longing, as though she had been waiting for this moment for an eternity. Her voice, fragile yet resolute, broke the silence.

‘You’ve come at last... At long last, my wait is over. Show me your white bracelet. Show me the bracelet that carries the light.’

Bradley froze in place, his expression frozen in shock. Time seemed to stop around him, the weight of her words crushing him under their gravity.

‘Bracelet... how do you know about my bracelet?’ he murmured to himself, barely audible.

His mind spiralled into a storm of questions. He tried to make sense of the inexplicable connection between him and this girl, but the threads of logic only tangled further. What is her link to the bracelet? How does she know me? Why does she say she’s been waiting?

He came to realise that his journey through this enigmatic world was merely beginning, destined to lead him to places unknown and truths he might not yet be prepared to confront.

© Faris S. J. 2024. All rights reserved.