The Serenader

Chapter 3

Atlas' POV
The gates of the castle had never looked so big.

I was at home, my real home, but in truth it felt nothing like it. Just from the outside, it was much more glamorous than I remembered. It took me some time to come to the realization that the castle had indeed always been this grand; my memory must have chipped away over the last few years.

I bid adieu to my escort, a kind middle-aged woman named Rosalinda who had picked me up at the Dorian docks. It was quite a long ride, and we were both relieved it was over. Her horse whinnied, and in a flash she was gone.

There's no going back now, I thought to myself.

I turned towards the castle, not fully knowing what awaited me inside. The drawbridge was let down with a crash, and the doors nearly twice my height creaked and swayed as they swung open, revealing a long passageway.

I walked inside, suddenly aware of how unpresentable I looked, with my hair uncombed and my uniform wrinkled and stained with oil from greasing the sails. I made a futile attempt at freshening up, running my fingers through my hair and such, before continuing down the corridor. I hadn't been told where to meet my father, but I'd assumed the throne room. That's where he would likely be at this time of the afternoon.

My footsteps slowed down when I heard the faint clicking sound of heeled shoes. I rounded a corner and nearly ran right into one of the many people I hadn't seen since I left - my sister.

"Blythe?" I said, surprised. I hadn't expected to bump into her like this in the hall.

She looked up at me, her eyes widening. Then she threw her arms around me and pulled me into a hug.

"My God, Atlas," she said, letting go, "Three years has been way too long!"

I laughed. "It's good to see you too."

I couldn't help but notice how much older she looked. She had let her dark hair grow well past her shoulders, and around her neck was a necklace gilded with rubies and bits of gold, something I recalled our mother wearing once upon a time - an heirloom signifying a woman was of marrying age. I looked up to meet her eyes, to say something about it, but I realized...

"You're taller than me now, huh?" I had to ask. It was always a petty childhood competition between us to see who stood taller. We each had a few years in first place at one time or another, but I had come out on top when I left. Now, I wasn't so sure.

"Oh," Blythe started, kicking off her heels and grinning. Her height fell about two inches when she wore just socks. She had grown quite a bit, but it appeared I still had the lead. "No, it's these wicked shoes. I wouldn't wear them if Father didn't claim it was 'proper.'"

I frowned. That didn't sound like something I would expect our father to care much about. Perhaps it was because Blythe was older now. Our mother had always worn lifts like those, but that was because she was naturally very short. Blythe and I, on the other hand, had inherited our father's tall stature.

Our conversation was halted by the sound of another pair of shoes coming down the hallway, this one attached to the formal robes of a king.

"Father," I whispered, loud enough to sound like a greeting but also quiet enough to sound timid. I hastened to fix my posture, my forehead already beaded with sweat. What would he say about my leadership? About my crew? About the Navy itself?

But instead, he smiled warmly when he caught wind of my presence. "Welcome home, Atlas," he said. "We've missed you."

I exhaled with relief. He turned to Blythe, his expression shifting to a stern look of confusion and almost humor. "Blythe, where are your shoes? You're nineteen; you know you can't be roaming these halls in stockings."

Blythe mumbled an apology, retrieving her shoes and placing them back on her feet.

"Come," he said to me, putting a hand on my shoulder, like he hadn't just called out Blythe. "We'll alert everyone of your arrival." He turned away from me. "Blythe, gather your siblings. There's work to be done."

My sister and I nodded in unison. From what I remembered, gather your siblings wasn't the easiest of tasks. We had permission to wander the entire castle, which in itself is a chore to navigate on a timer. But even more so, Des and Eclipse had a knack for finding forgotten places that might cause trouble, and that usually led to them getting lost somewhere. I remember just before I had left, Eclipse, barely nine years old at the time, had discovered a tunnel under the floor of the kitchen. We'd determined it was a passage used to remove food waste, but at the time it had caused quite the commotion. I smiled at the memory of Des rushing in and telling us he'd lost our youngest sister. I silently wished Blythe good luck on her task.

"You've done well," my father said, the moment Blythe was out of earshot. I suspected that might have been purposeful. "I'm proud of your work. You'll rule well someday."

"T-thank you," I said, nearly stumbling over my words. Just before I enlisted, I admitted to myself that I dreaded the day I would be confined to these walls. I wanted to live as much of my life away from Ionia as I possibly could, before birthright and responsibility consumed everything I had worked so hard to be. It simply wasn't realistic to go on believing that King Cyrus' reign would last forever. I had to accept that my turn would come soon - too soon.

My father guided me through the halls and eventually into the throne room. Though I'm no Illusionist, I'd grown up with five. I've had more than enough experience with how to judge someone's emotions. Perhaps that was why I had the strange feeling that my father hadn't told me the full story about the meeting.

"Is everything alright?" I asked. "Who called this meeting?"

"We did," he replied, his voice even. "Ionia."

"We did? Why?" I racked my brain for the last time a Region Meeting had been called by the head of the country. It had to have been long before I'd been born, at least. Only two had happened in my lifetime, and they were not requested by Ionia. The purpose of a conference like this is for the head of every region to have a chance to talk with the other six rulers. It's usually only called in emergency circumstances to settle major, major disputes. For instance, a segment of Lydia broke off and formed its own region called Mixolydia right around the time the twins had been born. Now, that had warranted a Region Meeting. I wondered what could have possibly happened now to make need for one so suddenly.

"Intuition," my father replied, and though I couldn't understand, I knew well enough not to question feelings when Illusion was involved. "The regions are growing apart. It's my intention to reunify us before something regretful happens."

"Ah, so it's all precautionary?" I asked, feeling relieved. "I was worried."

"For the most part, yes. But..." he faltered, taking a seat on the throne. I stood around awkwardly, knowing in full I didn't have a place to sit in this room.

"But what?"

"Can I ask a favor of you?"

"Of course," I said warily.

"I have much to do to prepare," he started. "Four other leaders are already here, settled into the empty wings of the palace. As far as I know, the others are en route. I hope to begin the day after tomorrow at sunset. Because of all that, I need to ask... will
you light the candles in my place?"

"I would be honored," I replied slowly. "But why?"

The lighting of the candles was solely ceremonious, but that didn't make it any less important. It was how word spread to the public about the change that would likely happen to Harmonia. By asking me - a prince - to do it, my father had done something unprecedented. Only the King and Queen had the authority to do something like that.

"I'm trying to keep my damn kingdom together, son," My father said, anger lacing his words. "I don't have time to light some silly candles."

I nodded sharply, startled by the change in his demeanor. "Whatever you need, I'll do it. And I won't disappoint."