Two weeks before their departure for the Heartlands, the dragons have grown too large to reasonably house within their bedroom, even if they try to house one in each of their rooms.The dragons are fortunate that the main doors to the rooms are spacious and double-doored, or else they may have had to find some way to tear down the walls to move them outside.Alcina is in the middle of fretting, hemming, and hawing and trying in vain to come up with any solutions.It is Brendan who, in the end, comes up with the idea.There is an area of the castle, he tells them, that has been unused and untouched for many years. It had once served as a study for one of Brendan’s great-grandfathers. He was an astronomer who liked to look up at the stars through his telescope and measure the movement of the planets.It is located in the furthermost back portion of the castle, the interior virtually a large marble cavern with ceilings that open up to the skies. In the dead of night, through a series of
In another few weeks’ time, it is time to depart for the Heartlands to attend Nordin and Alfred’s wedding.Alcina finds herself, for the most part, overcome with a conflicting mess of emotions as to her return home.“Home,” she’d called it, but it hadn’t been until her arrival to the Western Plains, to Brendan, that she’d realized, perhaps it had never truly been much of a home at all.Alcina thinks of looking up into her parents’ faces - that stone-faced silence from her father and the sharp edge of lingering disappointment that had never left her mother’s - and something curdles in her stomach.But she supposes, for all of her reservations about returning to the House that had thrown her aside, she will be doing so to attend the most sacred and treasured event for the two people who had made it home, nonetheless, for her first twenty-two years.And she will do so with the person who, for the past few months, had been her home; had made Alcina a home, here, giving Alcina the space an
Dimly, Alcina registers a bluster of sounds around her as guards and noble attendees alike react in degrees of retaliation and terror, and outrage. Still, it all feels distant, as though she were witnessing the events from behind a foggy glass wall, the sounds and sensations and visions muffled.Albrecht, as he walks through the gaping doorway, the doors hanging off the broken hinges, wears a devastating smile, a dark, purple-colored haze spilling from his palms to swirl around those in the back rows.Miasma.Cedric Albrecht, Duke of House Albrecht; he who had emerged victorious following a long and bloody, bitter battle between brothers of the same bloodline to seize the throne alongside the sibling who had supported him in slaughtering their own kin. He, who is said to wield the Gift of poison: a lethal, gaseous substance emitted from his hands, the exact nature of which has never been ascertained but which has been confirmed to be fatal in many instances.Alcina watches as a row o
Alcina doesn’t remember very well what happens next.She can only recall in blurred snippets of colors and sensations, filling her heart with a blackened char and ice.But what she does remember is this:She remembers running into the fire headfirst.Remembers locating that crumpled, prone form in the center of the inferno and throwing herself at it with a choked, painful sob.Remembers desperately pulling Brendan’s shoulders into her lap, curling over him. The feeling of sorrow, panic, and rage is so strong that it consumes her whole, leaving behind nothing but this dark, black pit in the center of her chest where her heart ought to be.She doesn’t realize, then, that the fire doesn’t burn.That all around her, where the flames lick at her skin, the only sensation she feels is a dull, pleasant warmth.She doesn’t realize, either, that as she cradles Brendan’s unconscious - dead? - body in her arms, the fire slowly ceases to burn him, too.Because all Alcina can focus on, the only th
It has already been half a day since Brendan had been taken.Since Alcina had sat there, in a shocked stupor, crumpled on the ground with no one able to approach her for the snarling, fearsome dragon wrapped protectively around her. Since then, she had sat there, unregistering the coming and going of various individuals as they counted the dead and the living. Her own father was declared in need of critical medical attention.Nearly an hour after the hall had emptied, Alfred and Nordin had managed to coax Alcina gently to her feet and led her to her room, where she sat staring blankly at the wall until she was fetched for the current meeting. But all Alcina can see is the still and unmoving form of Brendan, laying limply in her arms; of Brendan, smelling like soot and ash and cinders rather than his familiar warm, earthy amber scent; of Brendan, his skin covered in harsh burns, with his eyes that wouldn't open to look at Alcina, no matter how much she begged.So, when Alcina's entir
After that, Alcina doesn't bring up the matter of going after Brendan again.But it doesn't matter much, given that she is also not invited to the strategy meetings after that, anyway.* * * * * * * * * * *The following day, Nordin finds Alcina, where she's sitting quietly with Orion out in the courtyard.Alcina had always hated the whispers and stares that used to trail her at home, of the Giftless child who had ruined her family's hallowed legacy.Now, she has a Gift, but she finds she hates the whispers and stares all the more for it.Alcina hears things like 'To think, that dragons have returned- and it is a Clair who is Gifted with them; and Have you heard that the youngest of House Clair does possess a Gift, after all?'Of people staring at her with awe, that's alien, given that it comes from the same eyes that had scorned her in the past.It strikes her how strange it is that she had been an outcast for having no Gift, but now that she has one, she still folds herself away, hi
As always, Alcina paces the floor with near frenetic energy in the hallway outside the meeting room.Duchess Clair had forbidden her from further meetings, citing Alcina's emotional preoccupation to have rendered her unable to participate in the proceedings with the objectivity required of war.There is a part of Alcina that wonders how loathsome it is to be able to speak of objectivity and the greater good.Perhaps Alcina's mother is right, after all, that she is ill-suited to war, given that such concepts are complex for her to grasp. Not when every time she closes her eyes, she can still see Brendan's last, parting smile seared into her mind with a vengeance.It has been two days since Brendan was taken.Since he had been stolen from her.And still, no one moves.Commander Lincoln is tied up in the Western Plains, given the nation has never been more vulnerable than now, when their greatest strength and future king has been taken.Alfred, future Duke as he may be, is nonetheless se
Alcina’s mother, Duchess Clair, raises the suggestion that they do not go after Lord Brendan at all.Given the magnitude of manpower and resources it would take to breach Duke Elton’s castle, particularly given his alliance with Duke Cedric - it is not justifiable, she says, that they should pursue what could very likely be a “fruitless endeavor.”It falls upon the table like a heavy condemnation, though not a single person can claim that the thought had not crossed their minds even briefly.After all, war cannot be fought on emotions and sentiment alone.It must be fought on the battlefield, with human lives and bloodshed, and innocent deaths.War demands of people, then, to quantify qualitative data to use such phrases as the greater good and justifiable risks.It asks of people to set aside that instinctive human nature to value the individual over all else, the kind of impulse that characterizes mankind in his desire to sacrifice hundreds for the life of one beloved person.Each p