A Curse of Starlight

Chapter 1 - Stella

The lands that encircled Bethlan were filled with magic and terror beyond the scope of any mortal imagination. Before the human kingdom closed themself off from the realms of the Fae and Eld hundreds of years ago, the civilians of every land came together and lived among the humans. The extant remains of the border towns and temples they occupied were barely standing, and often crumbled beyond recognition of their original purpose.
The piles of rubble and stone archways housed mysteries that demanded my attention, much to the dismay of the court elders who had warned me of their evil nature. They spun tales of malevolent Fae spirits that lurked around these decrepit sites, waiting for naive young women to enchant and devour.
Despite their explicit warnings, I had chosen to give in to the allure of many such places and the mystical escape they offered me.
They say the Fae and the Eld, people who were once full of life and art, were taken over by a dark force that threatened to devour the humans of Bethlan as it had the other realms. Now, the only glimpses of their culture that any human can see is in their ruined cities.
My father, the King of Bethlan, on advice of his council of elders, forbade anyone from visiting any such places. Lucky for me, he was a raging drunk these days and hardly noticed my absence.
So on many days like today, I spent my time riding out across the moors and through woods to any ruin I could find. I found trinkets and sculptures and the occasional piece of jewelry. Small things I brought back to the castle with me, while larger works of art and architecture I admired and wrote about in my mother's old journal.
It was charming in a way to think about a world where magic flowed freely and graced every aspect of daily life. What I wouldn't give to be a Faerie in a world where evil never consumed half the continent. But all I could do was wander and observe relics of the past.
I had a pocketful of treasures from my most recent adventure in my cloak as I passed the main dining hall. If I didn't show for dinner two nights in a row, my sister might get worried again. I sighed and patted my stuffed pockets. I would take them out to observe later tonight.
The air was warm with scents of baked breads and cooked meats—hearty aromas that made my mouth water after days of eating dried fruits and jerky on old, forgotten roads. The long hardwood table before me was bedecked with a variety of rolls, roasted game, vegetables, and pastries. Above the center of the table was an elegant chandelier lit with a few candles burned down to nubs. Sitting as far apart as humanly possible were my older siblings, Petra and Stefan.
"There you are, Stella." My sister greeted me from across the dining hall. Petra was the eldest of us, possessing a beauty like none this castle had seen since our mother's passing. She donned the same flowing auburn hair as our mother, which was now situated in a low braided knot at the back of her head–two gently curled strands framing either side of her unblemished face. The picture of elegance and royalty. "Where have you been? I've had news to share with you, but the guards haven't seen you in days."
"Oh, you know, escaping evil spirits, having wild adventures, the usual," I said with a slight grin. Petra rolled her eyes slightly in response.
I glanced sidelong to my brother, who was wholly unamused.
"What's your news, sister? It had to be important for you to keep it from me until this one showed up," he said, gesturing loosely to me with a lazy, outstretched hand. Petra straightened in her high-backed chair, her lips drawn in a tight line. If looks could kill, Stefan would have been dead at her hands years ago. I was surprised she wasn't used to it by now—Stefan's rude remarks and his inability to spare a moment's patience. Where I liked to jest with my sister and get under her skin, he cut deep, either uncaring of his words' impacts or purposeful in their hurt. I did not know which intention was true.
My older brother picked up a roasted drumstick from a nearby platter and unceremoniously ripped into it. Not the behavior befitting the future king, but mimicking our father nonetheless.
Petra cleared her throat and faced me. "Our father brokered a deal between our family and the Lord of Brath. I am to be wed in the spring if all goes well."
My eyes widened slightly, but soon lowered. I knew that my sister took her role very seriously. She was in the absolute and unshaken belief of her duty: to be wed off into a loveless marriage for political gain and the security of our family. If there were other royalty for her to marry and form alliances with, we did not know of them.
The last contact with any known human kingdom beyond our borders was made centuries ago. A lord—one with wealth and connections and local support—was the best a princess could hope for in this land.
"This will be a most advantageous match for the security of this family's position and the survival of our court," Petra insisted. It would ensure that my father's crown, soon to be my brother's, would stay within the bloodline. There would be no attempted coups due to the neglected feelings of many powerful lords if the king himself had chosen to bless their family with his own daughter. An alliance, a sign of allegiance and importance to the crown. But even as she said it, there was a glint of something I couldn't quite place in her eyes. And just as soon as it appeared, it was gone.
"Congratulations," I said hesitantly, knowing I might rather die before I suffered a similar fate, but if this is what she truly wanted...
Petra's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Stella, I've cleared the path for you to secure an equally advantageous arrangement. For the good of Bethlan. If the reports of unrest in the southern territories are to be believed, then we must be hasty in securing the support of its local lords." Petra smoothed her elegant dress, shooting a pointed look at our brother Stefan in search of support.
He said nothing, and only plucked a small cake from its tiered stand.
Petra muttered something under her breath. "Be happy that you do not have to marry one of the lords from the west. I have saved you from the burden of an alliance in such an unseemly place."
I choked on a laugh. "Saved me?" I clasped my hands behind my head, processing everything for a moment. I knew my father had been alluding to this for years, but hearing it from my sister's own lips as if it were an immediate certainty... I did not want this fate. To be tethered to a strange lord far away from the castle, far from my relative freedom.
"You would not have anything to save me from if it weren't for stupid traditions. Or if our father were actually good at delegating unrest on his own without using us, his own flesh and blood, as pawns."
Petra rose to her feet suddenly, her chair scraping horribly against the tile flooring. Stephan sat still, glancing between us as he took another bite, waiting for the drama to unfold.
"This is the way things are. How they have always been. You don't have to like it, but it is our duty." She closed her eyes, wrestling her expression into a sort of seething calm. "We will start on your music lessons the day after tomorrow. It's high time you learned how to be a proper lady, Stella."
Stefan laughed under his breath at the other end of the table. "Bicker somewhere else, will you? Gods above, I don't need to hear your insolent whining while I'm trying to enjoy my dinner."
Petra's mouth gaped slightly, then steeled as she turned to me.
"This discussion is not over." There was a crack in her voice, small enough that I wondered if I had imagined it.
She smoothed her dress once more as she made her exit from the dining hall, head high. The swish of her skirts against the stone floor faded into the background as her steps receded.
"Nice going, asshole. When did you truly become so abrasive?" I loaded a dinner plate with sliced turkey and a few soft rolls. I threw a vulgar gesture over my shoulder as I strode out of the hall, shutting its grand doors behind me and ignoring Stefan's self-righteous chuckling in response.

***

I gazed across the darkened hills and city lights on the northern side of the castle grounds. It was just nearing dawn the morning after my sister's harrowing announcement when I woke to overlook the city. Lanterns and candles illuminated the homes of those that occupied the town, as if hundreds of fireflies had gathered on the gentle slopes of the moor.
I stood in a turret in the north wing of the castle, a room that was rumored to be one of my mother's favorite places. It was secluded from the rest of the court, allowing a moment of reprieve from the real world.
I watched the hills often from this place. Sometimes, when the sun was rising or the seasons were shifting, I would sit for hours writing. Observing.
A warm breeze swept across the landscape from the north, creating waves in the green grass far beyond the castle just as the sun peeked over the horizon. As if carried by the wind, a bodiless voice caressed my mind.
Find what is needed among hills of gold and ruins of old. Only you can save us.
I turned around, expecting to see someone standing in the tower, but there was no one. Just as soon as it had come, the breeze and the voice were gone. The distant moor had returned to its normal state, and I started wondering if I had imagined it all.
Surely I had.
So why, then, did I feel a tangible pull toward the horizon and its warded wall of thorns?
It couldn't be the Fae or the Eld beyond our kingdom. Their magic didn't work in Bethlan–not since Elowyth, my father's mage, had created wards around the kingdom's existing thorn wall. A wall which stood for hundreds of years, keeping watch over our borders. The kingdom was physically and magically impenetrable to all but the mage. So I must have imagined it.
I pushed away the thoughts and the gnawing curiosity as I returned to my rooms to get ready for the day's events.
Today was the Autumnal Equinox celebration, and every gentry worth his salt would be present for the tedious ceremonies headed by the High Priest of Bethlan. The Three Gods and their High Goddess, Vera, were central in celebrations such as these. Vera was the goddess of the universe, everything that was and wasn't. The Three Gods were masters of the sun, the moon, and the stars. Equinoxes brought a balance to the world between the sun and the moon, the light and the dark.
I used to think that the only realm to worship our gods was Bethlan, but my ventures to the Fae and Elden ruins within our borders proved otherwise.
Perhaps they didn't have to wear suffocating gowns and attend endless religious ceremonies. We weren't so lucky here.
The gown laid out on my bed was beautiful—of that fact I could not argue. It had a corseted bust and a flowing floor-length train of deep blue silk. Its underlying sleeves and tulle skirts peeking from beneath its topmost layer were an elegant shade of gold. I could tell by the sheen and the grain of the fabric that it would be merciless and unforgiving to wear.
I rubbed my fingers over the fabric, and dreaded the next twelve or so hours of the Autumnal Equinox ceremonies. I could think of nothing more monotonous, nothing I'd rather do less.
My father would hate for me to skip the occasion. I grinned and threw the dress aside. Good, because I had already thought of the perfect substitute for the day.
***
It had taken only a few minutes to slip into a tunic and dark riding pants, and shuffle past the castle guards under the shadow of my cloak. It had taken fewer still to bridle my horse, Felipe, and escape the castle's watch during the bustle and chaos of ceremony preparation.
I was already outside of the inner city's walls when I heard the trumpets sound from the castle, announcing the beginning of the first sermon.