Candlelit Shadows

Chapter 10

“The clouds in the sky… they are beautiful, aren’t they, darling? I think all of us had, at some point in our lives, wished that we could just reach out and touch them, maybe feel the wind in our hair as we soared—

      “But it’s easier to yearn for something we had never had, than to miss something we had taken for granted.

      “There was once an eagle, majestic and proud. Everyone acknowledged him as the king of the skies, mostly because those who didn’t tended to meet an unsightly end. Even Solis thought highly of him. High enough to make him Solis’ ambassador in the skies.

      “It was a privilege, the eagle knew that well. He accepted it as such, with all the proper formalities and courtesy. But he did it for others’ sake, because he knew, as did every bird in the sky, that responsibility was not for him.

      “Many are fooled by the way he drifts in the air, weightless. Many envy the way he can fly, far and high, away from any problems he faced in life. But the truth was there are always invisible threads around him, weaving a net he could never escape. When in the air, he was no more than a kite, the wind’s humble slave. One false move and he would crash to an agonizing death. And yet he could never stay away.

      “His power, therefore, was one of control. Not control of his fellow competitors, as others have tried to disastrous results, but of his life long friend and foe—the sky. With one cry, he could summon hurricanes. With one twitch of his wing he flew higher than ever. He had cut off the puppeteers’ strings—only to find tighter ones wound around the scissors.

      “For the moment he took on the powers Solis offered, he was bound to join the Tournament, and battle for his life on land as well as in the air. Twenty-four seven. If I’m in too deep already, why not see how far I could go? He reasoned, and proceeded to wipe every bird off the sky. His sky.

      “Or, almost every bird. It was this final elusive quarry that led him to his downfall—a tiny songbird, hardly worth his time. But where this little bird lacked in strength, it made up with speed and wing-control, diving straight into the eye of the storm and directing the full force of the eagle’s attack back at him.

      “But even after death, after finally losing his wings and crashing down like a stone, the eagle was never truly free. For he had unknowingly made the top twelve, and thus his soul was doomed to burn forever in silence.”

***

Cera woke up in those familiar surroundings, to that familiar never-fading light outside her window. Slamming down on the familiar alarm clock on the familiar dressing table just for the heck of it-- since it had long since gone haywire—she put on the familiar robes on her way to the familiar though still surreal, bewitched door.

      So why did she feel so out of place?

      Memories of yesterday —now referring to any time in the past, as time did not truly exist in the caves— came surging back. The Gathering, of course. And what she witnessed after. Trying and failing to hide an apprehensive shiver, she pulled her robes closer. Fat load of help that was.

      The cold reached beyond her skin, beyond any physical unit. It was buried deep in her soul, a trench that would take years to fill in, or maybe just a few days. Either way would be equally hard on her.

      Yes, that must be it. The emptiness inside—Lady Aranae had made it sound so simple, so noble. Our people are losing themselves in the lives of the Mundane. That’s why, every full moon, the thousands of members in the Brotherhood gather here and look to us, the Apostles, for guidance. And we give it to them.