Chiars and the Oscuros

Chapter 1 - Sade

I remember a day when I was 2, the leaves had yet to fall to the ground, a perfect in-between moment. In-between life and death, in-between summer and winter. It was my favorite time of year, but this day will alway be marked with blood, death, and fear.

I watched my father step into the crisp, cold day. I watched him even though he had told me not to. I watched him as he approached a tall man in a black suit, the color of my ravens. I watched him as he lifted the man up, his hands clenching the man's exposed throat. I watched as the man's face grew purple as my father killed him in the middle of the street. I only looked away when my father brushed off the imaginary dust on his shoulders and walked back to the carriage. That was when I stopped looking at him

I am an Oscuro. The family that taints the pure blood of Farion. The family that is spit upon every time the name is mentioned. The family that kills. The family that keeps every single promise of revenge. The family that uses magic in the most despicable way. The family that has been banished to the ends of the world. Supposedly.

My family is every bit as dangerous as what has been speculated during the balls and tea parties of the wealthy. I am a magician and I will be a murderer. I am cold-hearted and vain. I have been trained since birth how to kill a man with only my bare hands, how to use the dark magic of long ago, and most importantly, who to trust.

The Chiar family is our mortal enemy. They have been so since our ancestors were born as complete opposites of each other. Our side dark and theirs, light. The Oscuros practice dark magic and we use it to get anything I want. The Chiars use their so called "magic" to help other and to rid their world of crime, which includes us. I am the lone heir to the Oscuro throne, the first woman since Sade I, the founder of our clan and my great-great-great-great-great-great grandmother. They say she and I are alike, with our long ebony hair, pale skin, and sapphire blue eyes.

That's me. Destined to lead a life of crime and mystery, destined for dark purposes, destined for magic. Or at least that's who I'm supposed to be. I will never tell my cold father this, but sometimes, sometimes I doubt the heavens. I doubt that I will ever be able to follow in my father's footsteps and lead my family against our enemies. I doubt that I'll ever be able to shut myself out from the world, from my life, and from love. I doubt that I am an Oscuro.

I think all this through to myself as I sprint through the hallways of our enchanted manor, a silent figure dressed all in black, carrying a surprisingly big piece of cake and a goblet of the kitchen's finest wine. I expertly locate a passageway in the wall and slip through into a long, dark hallway. I found this place when I was a little girl, terrified of what my father was and what he might do to me. I'm not scared of him anymore, but I still find my way here if I can't stand to face the wrath of my father or the familiar sneers on the faces on his advisors.

My hand is tracing the dusty, cobwebbed walls, reminding me of my childhood, when I would use the walls to guide me through the secret workings of the house, hoping to find my way back to wherever I had started. The plaster feels old now, the age of my house finally catching up to it. I can feel the cracks spreading across, almost as if they're growing.

I get closer, cracks of fading sunlight are emblazoned on the ancient floor, making it even more beautiful. I reach for the small door handle that I have memorized and with a strong force, step out into the light.

I'm on the roof of my house, the light an in-between. Between pink and purple and blue and orange, between night and day. Secretly, this is my favorite color.

I've come up to watch the sunset for as long as I can remember. I love watching the last remnants of light struggle against the overwhelming darkness, succumbing to the almighty force. I love watching night settle in, no longer the oppressed, but the oppressor. It reminds me that I don't have to always be "that" girl. I don't always have to be defined by who my family is. Because in the deepest part of my heart, I really wish to be someone else. Anyone else.

The sun is still up, one final moment of victory. I fall into myself, leaning against one of the spires that surrounds me. The cake that I whisked away from the kitchen is still warm to the touch, and upon inspection, still delicious. But I'm no longer in the mood for cake, no longer in the mood to be happy. I just want to sit here and watch the sky and watch the stars when they come out. I just want to be normal. But that is impossible. The closest I can get is to take a sip of my wine, and I do. It burns down my throat, but it clears my mind.

I don't know if the wine is getting to me or if it's this crazy urge to do something bad, but I look over the edge, swallow down my vertigo and another sip of the wine, and cast a spell or two.

I make a servant slip as he is opening the doors to the manor. I curse one of the maids and a frog and a salamander jump out of her mouth, scaring everyone within a few feet of her. Laughter bubbles out my mouth, for the first time in a while and I can't stop.

Still laughing, I convince one of the dukes visiting to kiss the lady next to him, both their faces red as tomatoes. This....is fun.

Maybe I am meant to be an Oscuro after all.