1217-08-27
Mary Elephon:
I look out the window as the holy knights train in the yard. I am part of the group not chosen by dragons. The ones destined to become scholars. I used to want to become a holy knight. I'm not so sure. I keep thinking about what I saw. The fear in those dragons, and the fear rising in me.
"Are you even paying attention?" a voice cuts through my thoughts, pulling me back.
I glance at the board. Lines of dates and scribbles cover it from top to bottom.
"Just because you are her sister does not mean you can …"
"The Battle of the Red Rose," I interrupt. "Also known as one of the most brutal displays of a single man's power ever recorded."
"It is said that Ahk, now called Pallas, and Wara were once allies. They fought together in the Hundred Year War. Wara even built a grand city that they later destroyed in the Battle of Kima."
"Back to the rose," I say. "Toward the end of the war, Warrior King Aldric decided their alliance was no longer needed. Supposedly he plucked a single rose from outside the city and used that single rose to exterminate everyone inside. Every man, every woman, every child, every living thing.
Only one person escaped.
Only one survivor lives to tell it, and they said Aldric allowed them to flee. When they returned to Wara's mainland, all they could say was:
The rose had thorns."
My professor grows quiet. My classmates whisper among themselves. I do not care who says what.
"In Pallas, they tell a different story," the professor continues. "They say Wara attacked first, and Aldric defended the city with the rose. There is no way to know which version is true. We cannot reach into the memories of decades past."
Those who believe Aldric took the city from Wara say he slaughtered everyone because he wanted to. Nothing more.
"Well," the professor begins.
"Is there anything else?" I sigh.
"You are right," he says, "but you still need to pay attention even if you only pretend."
"Why? Do you get commission based on our grades?"
"I…"
"If that is enough, I am going to leave."
I pick up my bag, stuffed with papers and notes I cannot bother to read.
I walk through the now-empty halls. Almost everyone has already made a pact with a dragon. Those who have not are treated like failures, which I think is ridiculous.
Even more ridiculous is having classes on Sundays, but I digress.
I return to my room. "Agatha is out," I sigh.
I throw my bag as hard as I can.
It makes a dull thud against the corner of the room.
"Why… why can't I believe like they can? What is different about me? What is wrong with my soul?"
My mother always compares me to my sister even if she denies it. My sister is incredible. One of the strongest people in the world. If she wanted to, she could destroy the entire country. So why am I nothing like her? I want to see the world. I want to be there when someone needs me.
One of my books slips out of my bag.
"That same stupid book," I say as I pick it up. "Why do I trust a random book more than what I have been taught? Why do I believe his version of events? He is just a foolish king. The one-armed fool."
The book goes into detail about the Battle of Kima and what Adrian Kundra witnessed. If only I was not so obsessed with it.
If only I had never been given the books.
If only I had stayed home and been an average Maranonan.
"We have been given authority to trample the serpent," the last page reads.
The story does not even make sense. It is full of him trying to make himself sound strong. Who would believe that he knew the enemy would hide inside the city with the perfect amount of food?
Or that a queen would allow the adultery of her husband without consequence?
Or that his own general would refuse the throne when he offered it?
And yet I believe it.
I believe these events happened.
Why would my heart cling to fiction? I think back to what Jude said.
"You should throw it out." The voice rings in my head. "I would never read anything from a king unwilling to fight."
I think about the powers the books talk about. Since I cannot trust the serpent, and I do not feel the lion, maybe there is a way to awaken my soul in my own way. Maybe then I will know what to believe.
Time passes. Agatha returns. I manage to hide the book before she comes in.
She is tired from practicing all day. We barely talk these last few days.
As she sleeps, I try to meditate.
Meditate on what I believe.
Meditate on what I saw.
What is real, and what is not.
"If the ability to manipulate lightning and other elements exists," I whisper, "then surely the ability to summon your soul is not too far-fetched."
I meditate most of the night, hoping to see something.
A faint pink soul glows in the center of the void, then slowly deepens into red, then into a dark purple.
Almost instinctively, I know what my spirit is.
A book forms in front of me.
A massive, brittle book with hundreds of thousands of pages.
It looks old. It looks ordinary.
It feels anything but.
The pages are separated into three sections: name, date, and time.
I try writing Milton Maris and the current day.
Nothing happens.
I try again, this time with a random day from years ago.
Still nothing.
"Is it defective?" I whisper. I'm not sure what is supposed to happen. I don't even know if I am using it correctly.
Maybe that is not his true name.
The thought hits me hard.
I think back to class. The Battle of Kima. The date we mentioned.
I jolt upright and scramble through the scattered papers on my desk.
May 26, 1214.
The day the Battle of Kima ended.
"If the lion's armor is real or not, if I can trust the lion or not, I need to witness it firsthand," I say. My hands shake. "I need to see what really happened. I need to see through his eyes."
I write down Adrian Kundra.
I write the date 1214-05-26.
The same day King Milton claimed the battle ended.
The book grows slightly heavier in my hands.
Then the world slams into me.
I experience the entire day in an instant.
Heat. Screaming. Metal. Smoke.
A blade. A roar.
Pain rippled through my shoulder.
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And then another shadow falls.
Another dragon drops from the sky. Its massive body crashes into me, piling its weight over mine. Claws rake across my armor as I am driven into the earth. My shield splinters. My ribs scream with each breath.
I hear a wet, tearing sound, then white-hot fire erupts across my nerves. A pulling, ripping agony. My scream tears itself from my throat before I even understand why.
I reached for my sword. My hand never found the hilt. It took me a moment to understand why. My arm is no longer there to obey.
My vision blurs. Then it goes black.
I cannot hear his thoughts. I cannot see his thoughts. I sense his heartbeat quicken as his power rises. I sense his determination rise.
My vision returned.
"Oh Lion," I whisper into the void, "give me the strength to topple my enemies."
-------------------------------------------------
The vision cuts out.
I scream. I scream.
I scream again.
I scream from pain.
I scream from a pain I have never felt.