The Levels of Aria

Prologue

A cold chill ran down my spine causing me to shiver. The temperature dropped a few degrees, goose bumps rising on my bare arms. Fear was etched so clearly in my expression I wondered if it might be permanent. Things were happening so quickly. Was it only a nightmare? Maybe something more? A little girl with dark hair and purple eyes stood terrified, trying to get my brother’s attention, only to be ignored, a rush of figures passing by and blood. The smell of blood filled the air. It was so strong I almost wanted to gag from the stench. There was the flashing of lanterns, running and shouts from the servants, and most of all, my mother lying cold on the ground, the dreaded, crimson liquid forming a puddle under her head. The constant shouting was starting to make my head throb.

“The Aria’s been murdered! The Aria’s been murdered!” The words rung out sharply through the chaos, as I recognized my handmaiden in a state of panic. “Find the Erina and contain her,” another voice yelled near me. I knew I had to move.

Shoving past the huddled onlookers, I ripped myself away from the crowd, ignoring the pounding in my head. I don’t remember how many twists and turns came before I stumbled to a stop in front of an indent in the hall. It was a window with long, dusty drapes and a small table underneath it. I scuffled over to it, almost in a daze, and huddled under the table, leaning into the rough material of the curtains behind me. I remembered my brother’s alarmed expression. I didn’t have a chance to look back. Was he okay? Realization hit me as tears started down my face. 

Footsteps caused me to jump as I glanced out from my nook in the wall to see someone approaching. I couldn’t make out the face. But it was definitely someone. The person stopped in front of me, and knelt down beside the table. Now eye-to-eye, I could see it was a boy almost my age. Was he one of the servants, perhaps? I could see the same fear I had reflected in his eyes. This shocked me. Out of everything happening around us, no one looked at me as he did now. However, the terrified expression was soon replaced with a look of calm.

“Hm, I knew I’d find you,” he murmured more to himself than me. “We need to get you out of here, and now. Where’s your brother? Did you see where he went, Akira?” I was too numb with grief to respond properly, all I could was shake my head. He sat staring for a minute, before there was a loud crash. He jerked in the direction of the noise. “Damn, they’re coming,” he growled, eyes full of alarm. He dug in his pocket and pulled something out, locked away in his hand. He unclasped his palm to reveal a necklace with a little silver key on it; he quickly secured it around my neck before meeting my gaze. “This is very important, so listen, I want you to keep this, keep it safe, alright?” Dully, I nodded, before he pulled me up and out of the room.

Once out of the room, we broke into a sprint, there was more than one group looking for me, and we wouldn’t be able to avoid them forever. You couldn’t simply kill an Aria and leave her heir alive, what would be the point? Plus, with my brother accused of the crime, he was as good as dead.

The servant and I turned a corner and we stopped dead in our tracks. A girl, no not even a girl, a demon stood clutching my brother’s throat. Blood dripped from her clothes onto the tile floor, her piercing red eyes turning to look at us. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the servant’s face contort in fear and disgust. Then he bolted towards the girl and yanked her off with force I didn’t think he was capable of. She let out a screech, a high pitched inhuman screech, swiping her long nails towards him. Now free of her grip, my brother ran towards another figure I didn’t even notice until now. She sat a few feet away clearly shaken, and crying, her purple eyes glistening in the soft light of the room.

“GO! GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!” The servant yelled holding the raging girl with all the strength he had, and it didn’t take long before my brother was yanking me out of the room and out of the Manor.

We were running. Running, running, away from the boy I so desperately wanted to understand. Why? Why the hell would anyone do what he just did, to help us escape? We continued along London’s blank streets, even darker during this hour of night. The pitch-black darkness seemed to swallow us up, and if not for the dim streetlights flying by I think it would have. My brother continued ahead, pulling me behind him down the dark streets. Twisting and turning, and turning again. It seemed like it would never end. At one point I even swore I scratched my arm, because of the sting from the cut. But I was so dazed with shock and grief all I could do was continue running.

Not long had passed before we heard the sounds of our pursuers gaining on us. We had nowhere else to run to. My legs were stiff and sore, which didn’t increase my speed any and my breath was going out in short, loud huffs. He led me behind the edge of a large building, where I pressed up against the wall trying to blend in. It took almost everything I had to quiet my breathing until there was a rough, dead silence. I dared not move an inch for risk of being heard or even worse seen.

A few scuffled scraps of boots, and hushed voices were all that filled the night now. Our breathing was barely audible, but it seemed amplified in the silence. Now that we were at a pause, I noticed the searing pain that was coming from my right arm. I had to bite my lip to keep myself from letting out a cry of pain. My brother took my arm carefully and examined it. My Aria mark, the one I had been told since the day I had been born was my mark of power, had relinquished its old grey silhouette and was now fully outlined in a deep black color. So it was true, mother was really dead. Her duties now fell to me. But how could I possibly learn to wield such a power? Fresh tears threatened to pour down my cheek, but my brother gave me a stern gaze.

Suddenly another large bang sounded through the street, and my brother tensed beside me. A few people had barged out of the building we were hiding behind. There was shouting and what sounded like gunfire, followed by more complete silence. The smell of blood wafted through the air again, and I squeezed my eyes shut. I felt my brother’s eyes on my face as he gave my hand a light squeeze. Whether a scolding or an act of kindness, I didn’t know. It was too dark to tell from his face. There were faint lights disappearing in the distance, but we still heard movement out front.

A strike of a match, then a lantern springing alive a few feet ahead of us caused my brother to jerk. And I let out a small gasp of surprise which was abruptly cut off by my brother slamming his hand over my mouth. The man who held the cursed lantern noticed us immediately and started speaking to others with obvious irritation. He argued with my brother for a while before the others joined him. They were not pleased to see us either. What they had against us we didn’t know. But whatever it was, they weren’t happy to have us here. The gruff looking man who had struck the lantern gave us a sharp glare before he beckoned us towards the doors of the building. Still wary of the unknown strangers before us, I clung to my brother’s arm.

Now that I was in the front of the building, I could clearly see the things that had happened: corpses everywhere, and more blood. My eyes widened in terror. They seemed perfectly normal and alive. Not a single scratch or bruise. How could there be so much blood? Looking closer I could see traces of them wearing away, the sand-like particles all that remained. But before I could inspect further, the men ushered us into the building and closed the door, securing a latch over the door for a reason I didn’t know.

“Welcome to the Association, your highness,” a deep voice grumbled through the crowd followed by a soft chuckle.

Then next thing I know strong hands come around my arms, restraining me. I stifled a yelp and I swore I heard my brother scream something sounding like a muffled threat.  A black cloth was roughly tied around my eyes, and another cloth covered my nose and mouth. The strong smell of chemicals filled my nose and lungs, as I struggled to break free. Everything was black; I couldn’t see nor was there hope for seeing. I would probably never see again, and the hands around me never weakened or slacked against my struggle. Slowly, I felt the drug starting to take over, and my struggling became weaker and then nonexistent.

In the blackness of my mind, the memories of the servant boy slowly came back. His face was now clearer in my memories, the strong cheekbones and dark hair sweeping just low enough to cover the brim of his eyes. It was all so real. I wanted to reach out to him, and comfort those sad eyes of his that continued to watch me like before. But I couldn’t. He was already disappearing. I was already disappearing. It was over just as soon as it began and I drifted off into the endless nothingness.