Savior of the Realms

Chapter 1

"Scarlett!"

I turned to see my brother, Tom, opening my room door without bothering to knock. Tom has always been like this, ignoring the rules of royal protocol that my mother makes a great effort to teach him. It does not particularly annoy me, but I know he has to train while he's young for his future as a prince.

"Tom, how many times do I have to tell yo—"

"They found another body."

Another body? Again? I hesitated, afraid it's a servant that we know. I didn't see Anne today, but she might have had other duties around the palace. "Who?" I demanded.

"It's Merta," Tom swallowed. "Mom didn't allow me to see, but I heard the guards saying that it was just like the other two killings. This time it was found in the palace garden."

I was quiet for a moment trying to take it all in. Another servant died here in the palace garden and no one noticed. Who can do that? The guards were always stationed at every entrance, which meant that whoever did it knew the job well.

Tom looked even more horrified now, so I tried to clear my expression.

"Don't worry; we'll sort it all out soon. Go now to your room and don't think about it, ok?"

"I hope so. Anyway, I have a very boring history lesson in an hour so I better break a leg or something," he gave me a mischievous smile and left.

Tom is my younger brother. I can't call him spoiled, but my mother, who's so kind and sweet, cared about us and raised us like true prince and princess. She brought us the best tutors and discovered our talents herself. My mother didn't make a lot of effort with me since I already loved reading and knowledge and started showing artistic talents from the first lesson with my teacher.

Tom, on the other hand, was a bit harder because he liked running and playing with the other children instead of taking his lessons. Tom is basically the source of happiness and energy in the palace.

Since my grandparents conquered Traxiva hundreds of years ago by killing the last king of its royal bloodline, nothing as brutal had ever happened. They maintained good relations with other countries, and the people were always happy and living in peace. The change in our palace affected everyone that it became so bleak and quiet, as if our happiness was stolen from us. I didn't see my father these past three days that I missed the spirit he used to add to dinner (I'd definitely say Tom's energy came from my father). Even though the previous kill was nearly two weeks ago, my parents are still very busy sorting it out.

I sighed while picking up the book I was reading, but I couldn't concentrate anymore. I decided to go to the kitchens; maybe the noise there can distract me. Halfway to the door, a knock sounded, and I quickly went to open, hoping it's Anne.

Sure enough, Anne's pretty, round face appeared at the door. We almost looked alike, with our pale skin and dark brown hair. She wore a pale blue dress and a white apron, her long black hair rested on her shoulders, and her face showed sadness.

Anne and I have been childhood friends, just like our mothers. Her mother, also a servant, had brought her to the palace when she was twelve. At that time, I used to enjoy going to the kitchens from time to time, until I saw her once sitting in a far corner reading a book. I had a lot of friends, but none of them enjoyed reading as much as I did. So I approached her and we started talking about the books we loved and the different genres we both liked. Since then, we became the best of friends.

"Scarlett." Anne choked, then embraced me and started crying.

"Come and sit." I said as I took her to the side of my bed. I gave her the box of tissues on my bedside table, then rubbed her back in soothing circles.

"Did you know her well?" I asked in a soft whisper.

Anne took a deep breath, "We all loved her so much. She used to take care of me in my mother's absence and she taught me all of what my mother didn't. I considered her my older sister."

Anne started crying again and buried her face in her hands. I felt like it's my fault for some reason, as if I was supposed to stop it. But this was not the time for remorse.

"Anne, you have to calm down so that we can start to think. Did you see the body?" I asked her seriously.

"No, but they all said the same thing: No sign of blood or wounds, as if whoever killed her didn't use violence. As if she saw something scary or shocking. Does that make sense?" Anne now looked angry. She never allows anyone to do anything for her loved ones.

"This is the thing: nothing makes sense. If we were just allowed to see the scene, we could find something." I said, thinking hard.

We sat in silence, both trying to understand. Three maids were killed but no sign of violence and it certainly wasn't suicide. Nothing fits in this case. Except...It doesn't seem relevant but nothing makes sense at all. I read a lot about magic and the myths that no one knows whether are real or not. But if magic actually existed hundreds of years ago, then there might be a connection.

"Anne, what do you know about magic?" I ask her, trying to sound casual.

"Magic? If you're talking about the magic I read in fantasy books..." She said.

"No, no, I mean the one that actually existed hundreds of years ago." I said impatiently. Anne seemed to realize that, so she gave me a wary glance.

"I don't know what you're thinking but a lot of stories were told. I know that magic had a source, and when those three men fought over having all of its power to rule the continent, something suddenly happened and it just disappeared." Anne said and then got up shrugging, "I have to leave now but I'll come back later."

I got up and took her hands. "Take care and don't walk around a lot, ok?"

She hugged me while nodding looking grateful. Anne valued our friendship more than anything and though she never said it, I knew that she loved me like a sister. I was also grateful that she was there.

After Anne left, I went to the library to search for old history books for more detailed information. The palace library is the oldest in Drulpa, almost 500 years old. It included all types of books with different languages for all ages. I spent hours there with Anne when we were teenagers. This was before she became busy with palace duties, of course.

Entering, I slowly opened two, massive, rectangular white doors. The handles were golden, matching the ornamentation around the huge pillars on either side. The door led me into the heaven beyond, with a warm scent of peace greeting me. The scene was utterly spectacular: white, elegant, marble floors, long tables, finely lined with soft linen, wooden armchairs, a fireplace and sofas, lavish candelabras, twisted ladders leading to the second story, and finally, walls full of books. Millions of books. Books lined every corner of this exquisite, angelic space, except for the ceiling, with its ornate design of elaborately carved patterns and details. I caught my breath as I took in this enthralling beauty and what awaits me inside, even though I've been here a thousand times before. I push my way through the doors to start a journey of adventure and comfort, ready to be lured into the world of imagination.

Grinning to myself, I moved forward towards the history section, running a hand over the book spines,
searching for a title about magic history. Traxivans and Their History. A History of Ancient Drulpa. Quirino the Great. Facts about Drulpan Culture. I grabbed A History of Ancient Drulpa and sat on one of the tables near the fireplace and started reading.

I spent most of the day in the library desperately searching for anything related to magic, and if it had a connection with the killings, but didn't find anything about it. So before going back to my room, I took a couple of books with me to read next morning.