Candlelit Shadows

Chapter 1

“Dark days were they, when heaven and earth waged war. Creatures of the sun, fought blood, tooth and claw. Twelve would remain, the war-scarred earth forever blessed with their light.”

***

The tension in the dark chamber was suffocating, in more ways than one. Twelve thrones weaved of darkness and despair sat on the tips of a twelve pointed star, forming the most magically powerful formation this part of the universe has seen in centuries.

      …Not a very cheerful place for a welcoming party.

      His thoughts wandering aimlessly as he scanned the round chamber, the Aviator of the Falko clan drummed his fingers on the seat of his throne in a listless tune, earning him a withering look from his neighbor. Undaunted, he winked, his impossibly sun-tanned, freckled face breaking into a grin accentuated by a pair of twinkling hazel eyes.

      The poster-perfect blonde youth on the throne to his left was everything his opposite, and then some—he was his best friend. Codenamed the Aristocrat and nicknamed various things he would not want repeated, the heir of the Corvus family was more than accustomed to his friend’s wayward ways. Holding his customary scowl for just a few more seconds, he then allowed his shoulders to sag, his breath coming as an exasperated sigh.

      The Aviator quickly turned away in barely suppressed laughter. Unfortunately, this way he met the gaze of his other neighbor, who was not quite as used to his antics…or even approved of them. Though this man’s face was mostly swathed in the shadows cast by the candlelight reflecting off his stark white, silk hood, his scowl of contempt was easily visible, and Falko could not help the chill that ran down his spine as he felt the former’s piercing look on him.

      If there was one person as uncomfortable as he was now, it would surely be the tiny figure huddled in her throne just two seats to his right. Her hood was down too, as was regulated in the dusty set of rules that everyone, with the occasional exception of Falko and Corvus, seemed hell-bent on keeping to.

      Despite being the third member of their ragtag little gang, the Artiste of Alopex was not quite so bold with her opinions. Her timid little frame all but gone in the flowing silk robes, Falko could sense her trepidation from where he was seated—if it were not for the imposing cold figure between them, indeed, he would have long since flung his arms around her. Anything to comfort her. He had known her longest, longer still than he had known Corvus, and little Allie was the closest thing he had to a family, the sister he had never had but had still managed to lose.   

      Hush, he mouthed futilely. There’s nothing to worry about.

      Even as he tried to console her, he knew it was not herself she was afraid for; neither was it him, though that would not be too far out of the ordinary. No, for even as she seemed to straighten out a little, trembling less in her oversized robes, Falko’s gaze trailed off, finally landing where so many others had been trained on for so long…

      Another young woman, barely more than a girl, kneeled motionless in the very middle of the meeting chamber, surrounded in a circle of ceremonial blue candle lights that cast awkward shadows from every angle onto the silent cave walls. The very same robes that adorned all the Apostles of the Brotherhood-- the ones that were always tripping Falko as he swore, and seemed to drown out Alopex’s very essence—showed off the girl’s bodice in a modestly pretty way, hugging the slightest of her curves and flaring in all the right places even as they trailed all the way down to the floors.

      Falko caught himself appraising her, much to his disgust, and stopped himself just in time, though he doubted Corvus had any qualms with that. She was in her late teens, perhaps hitting on twenty, younger than him and only slightly older than Alopex. Taking in that smooth, expressionless face framed by jaw-length chestnut locks and those midnight blue yet vacant eyes, he felt, for the first time, the true pain of having to sentence this pretty young thing to the life of shadows and seclusion he had grown used to.