Rising

Chapter 15

I was in a small brick house, held in the arms of a woman with extremely fair skin and dark eyes who was singing a song to me. The surroundings were modest, lit by bright lights from bulbs. The sky outside was dark, with no stars to illuminate the night. I closed my eyes and fell asleep. What seemed like a few minutes but was probably much longer in which I had been sleeping abruptly brought me back to reality. I heard screams in the kitchen, and I could distinguish the woman's voice."We won't let you take him away!" Boom! A gunshot and a dull thud. I ran barefoot on the wooden floor to the entrance to try to understand what was happening in this place I had never seen but felt like I knew perfectly. I wasn't in control of my actions; I was following a script that had already been written. I stared in horror at the scene before me: the woman lay on the ground with her eyes open in a pool of blood. Her white shirt was now red, and the smell of rust filled the heavy air of that night. A man stood in front of me, his back turned to me with his arms outstretched. When he turned to look at me with desperation on his face, I recognized his brown eyes, almost crimson. It wasn't me. It was Cassiel."Hide!" he shouted, his scream surprised me and froze my blood. I ran past the cluttered rooms of the small house that would leave no trace and reached a wooden staircase, climbing it quickly, taking refuge in yet another dark, musty-smelling environment. I heard another gunshot, then two more, and in horror, I realized that what I was seeing was not a gruesome and ugly movie, not a nightmare. It was happening for real, and he was there, in that place where a small war had just broken out, and the people dearest to him had died trying to protect him. I heard the stairs creaking; they were coming to get me, to get him. I curled up on myself, mimicking Cassiel's actions, praying fervently to some god in the universe for a miracle, hoping it would let me live. Our pleas were in vain; a large and overpowering hand grabbed my ankle, pulling me away."Let me go!" I screamed, trying to cling to something. I scraped the floor with my nails, the sound of my nails on the wood made me shiver; a splinter cut my finger, and I knew it was futile. I burst into tears, defeated and lost in panic. What could I do? The man was a monster like the others, he had chosen the shadows. He was muscular and massive, with two small horns on his head, and he pulled me forcefully in front of three others. They called them Santerchil, the oppressive and cursed guardians with whom the governor had shared the shadows. My eyes fell on his father, leaning against a wall with vacant eyes and three holes in his chest. The stagnant, foul odor in the air made me want to vomit, my stomach closed up, and my legs froze. Something hit me in the face with such force that it made my head spin, my cheek was on fire. Those men were violent and brutal, they were disgusting, unlike his parents, who, just like him, could blend in perfectly with the Lysians. Why were some people apparently normal and free from those obvious signs of corruption, and others not?"Move, kid, if you don't want to die before reaching the palace!" a man with a familiar grim face ordered me. He was the one who had attacked the palace and kidnapped Deimos; he was the one who had eluded me, disgusting and overbearing: Vukan the furious. He tied a blindfold around my eyes so tightly that it gave me a terrible headache, and I was pushed into what seemed like a vehicle. I felt the rough seats and was alone in the dark compartment. No, it wasn't a vehicle; it was the van the governor used to transport those he identified as state criminals to the palace. The reality was much simpler; the poor unfortunates were only tools for Mirus to use to his advantage. I tried to tear away what appeared to be just a piece of fabric from my eyes, but as soon as I touched it, my hand burned. I pulled it away quickly, and the smell of burning filled my nostrils. It came from my hand; I felt it bleeding, and the pain was so intense that I bent over. A loud explosion ripped through the silent night; had they set my house on fire? I shuddered, and the pain in my hand took a back seat. I had nothing left, but I couldn't give up; I had to take revenge. Many lives precious to me had been violated that night, and I couldn't die without fighting with honor. Something remained in me: their sacrifices and my anger. I couldn't say exactly how long the journey had lasted, but I was sure they were leading me into the jaws of the shark: the governor of Suarì. That coward who played with the lives of others as if they were pawns in a chess game, all for a greater good, his own. What a terrible punishment had been inflicted on this wretched people? The governor promised to do it for them, to save them from the arrogance of the sun, the power of the stars, and the cruelty of the moon; it was all lies! If killing was necessary to get what he wanted, he didn't hesitate before anyone. The common people hadn't embraced the shadows like his four-bit henchmen. The mere thought of being in a palace full of Santerchil made me shudder. The doors opened, interrupting my thoughts. "Walk!" one of the monsters shouted, pulling me forcefully; he could have broken my arm, but I knew for sure he didn't care. I had to arrive alive, not unscathed. I was so tired and weak that I thought I might faint at any moment. I was breathing heavily and had a severe migraine. We climbed several flights of stairs, and I stumbled a couple of times until we reached our destination, and the blindfold was removed. We were in the throne room, dark and bare, with some skulls and swords hanging here and there without apparent logic. On the walls were depictions of war scenes. I looked up at the ceiling, and what I saw made my stomach turn: the sun and the moon shrouded in shadows, and below them, the bodies of many people piled up, among them a woman who looked a lot like me and men who I recognized as Deimos, Caleb, and Lucifer. They knew what they wanted. "You're here," the governor said to me with false courtesy. He was less repulsive than the others, covered in gold, flaunting his wealth. His massive body fit perfectly into the opulent throne, in which several black diamond stones were embedded. He wore a black and white robe that reminded me of a sack of potatoes; elegance clearly wasn't his strong suit. His features were young, and his eyes were as black as pitch. I was surprised to discover that he had no horns, but that didn't make him any less unsettling. He got up, trying to conceal his menacing demeanor with kindness. When he was beside me, he put his hand on my shoulder, enveloping it in his seemingly delicate grip. I immediately felt the need to free myself. With a wave of his hand, he dismissed his monsters, except for one with fiery red eyes: the general. He certainly didn't need them; he was the most powerful man in Suarì, and Cassiel had heard millions of stories about his dark powers."I'm very sorry for your little ones," he recited with compassion and concern. A surge of anger ignited within me, but I had to, no, I had to remain calm, and so I did. "My men believe they were conspiring against the governor. You know how these things go—safety of the chosen one first and foremost." The general behind him chuckled, showing his small, wide teeth. His features were harsh and rudimentary, but there was something in his gaze that was alive and fiery, his anger. I found myself in the spider's web, trapped between the king and the queen, ready to devour me. If I struggled, I would draw their attention to me and be erased in an instant. I had to think and keep a cool head. Cassiel was seven years old, even though they might believe he was younger; he had been prepared for such an eventuality. Seeing that I was silent, the governor smiled benevolently. "You see, contrary to what you've heard about me, my dear, I am a benevolent man, and I don't like sacrificing the lives of innocent people. So, I want to offer you a chance." He paused, and I raised an eyebrow. Did he really think I was so gullible? Did he think I would blindly believe what he was saying? He was exactly as described: selfish, cruel, without any mercy for anyone."You must help me," he said as he headed to a wooden counter that reminded me of a worktable, picking up four photos from the top. He returned to me and handed them to me. I took them. Two men, complete opposites, and recognizing them made my stomach churn, and my mind became foggy. They were Deimos and Lucifer. As I expected, the other two photos were of me and Caleb. Cassiel had lingered longer on my photo, captivated by my radiance, by the light he had never known. "These are very wicked beings who have taken something very important from us, and I want it back.""What?" I asked, and I was surprised to hear my, rather his, voice so calm."The light! It used to belong to us, it used to be ours, and now we're forced into this wretched condition." Maybe he considered us ignorant, but we both knew the legend perfectly well and why we were forced into darkness. His generation was ruthless and arrogant, just like him. At first, he had underestimated the sun and the moon, thinking he could dishonestly steal what was rightfully theirs. The price he had paid and was still paying was undoubtedly fair, although unfortunately, the same fate had befallen beings who were not at fault."I don't want to," I finally declared. Both he and the general frowned at me for a moment before bursting into a hearty laugh. The governor opened his hand, and a dark, dense aura emanated from it, pointing towards me, restraining my arms around my waist."Kid, you don't understand," he continued to laugh. "You have no choice; you'll do it. We know about your gift, and you will use it to help us." The pressure on my chest was so strong that I could hardly breathe. "Take him to the dungeons so he can have some time to refresh his ideas," he told that bundle of evil to Vukan, who immediately prepared to execute his order. He covered my eyes and, on the way, frequently yanked me, even kicked me in the back to urge me to move. I heard many doors opening and closing, and when he finally removed the blindfold, I was locked in a cell with tall, double bars. "If you want to live, I wouldn't try to touch them!" he said as he left that gloomy place. I sat on the cold, black stone floor, leaned against the wall, and I was exhausted; my hand was still bleeding. I tore a strip from my dirty pants and tied it around the wound, hoping it would stop the bleeding. I crouched in a corner and fell asleep.