Fall of Ima (Cycles of the Lights series)

Chapter One

Priletoria- 2184 Iman Year

Meliora ran a final brush through her hair. The chestnut color came from her mother, but the bounce was from the late King Makarios' golden waves. As the locks recoiled from the teeth, she thought longing of her father. The brush was a gift from him. The silver handle gleamed softly, reminding of tears to soon follow.

Standing, the girl set down her brush and smoothed her gown. Pulling a dark veil over her face, she prepared to attend her father's funeral. Meliora's maid, Petra waited outside her door. The Princess spoke softly, "I thought I gave you the week off."

Petra's eyes peered to her friend and master, moistening. Like many in the nation, she loved their late King. "Your mother asked me to keep watch over you."

Meliora mustered a grin. "I'm off to see her now. Please, take time for yourself. I'd like to be alone."

Petra gave a curtsy. After checking over her shoulder to make sure no others were around, she wrapped arms around Meliora in a sympathetic gesture. After a squeeze, Petra darted to her private quarters.

Meliora watched her go. Petra had been a great friend, the two sharing secrets when the council wasn't around to scold. They felt it unsuitable for the Princess to confide in a commoner. Meliora's parents felt differently and encouraged the friendship. In recent years, the two had drifted slowly. Petra was a few years older and finding interest in boys. Meliora barely began to understand the appeal.

The Princess swallowed hard to suppress rising emotions. "You promised you wouldn't cry until after the royal address," she reminded herself. Yet memories of her fourteenth birthday mere months ago brought a drop to her cheek. She'd always celebrated with her dearest of friends, Jedrek. He was born the same day, merely one year after. The jolliness had eclipsed Meliora's notice of her father's paling skin and quieter demeanor. The afterglow continued past Jedrek's return to his kingdom, Carpecillero, to which he was the youngest Prince.

Three days after celebrations, Meliora awoke to a strange noise. Alarms sounded through the halls. Wiping groggily at her eyes, she realized it was coming from the royal bedchamber. The hair on her neck rose as she recognized the high-pitched wail to be from her mother. Meliora didn't pause to slip on shoes. She dashed to the royal bedchamber, freezing a few steps from the open door. Cold stones stung her feet, but fear struck her numb.

From the room came sounds of a beast in agony. Steeling herself, Meliora forced one foot in front of the other. Peering in, she saw her father bent. His shoulders quaked with each cough, filling the room with ominous sound. Her mother had ceased wailing. Senses returned, Queen Vesper checked his vitals. Before marriage, she had been a long-time student at the kingdom's renowned temple of healing. She took charge and called out a list of herbs. When finished, attendants and nurses hurried from the room.

Servants rushed about, avoiding collisions. Some lowered curtains to keep sunlight from the King's eyes, which recently developed sensitivity. Others offered his usual medicines, but Meliora's father waved them away as his form dropped heavily onto pillows. A plume of feathers released. His features once bold, appeared sallow and listless. The golden bounce of his curly locks once brought joy. He loved to fling them about imitating her wife. Sight of them clinging like damp weeds made Meliora's heart twist.

Meliora slipped into the room as her father's eyes stared half-open at the ceiling. She identified a look of peace. He knew it was his time. King Makarios extended a hand to his daughter. Meliora stumbled forward, body heavy. She clasped his hand tightly. "My child," he'd wheezed. "You're a wonder." His shallow breath made continuing difficult.