Chapter 17
Captain Yang
I don’t know what I feel as I’m led all the way through the palace and out into the east wing where the Royal Family resides. My insides are as chaotic as a storm.
But I hold myself together somehow. It helps when I exit out onto the great, spacious balcony that runs around one level of the east wing. It has a splendid view, overlooking the entire city, from the spires of the cathedral to the river that runs through her center.
As soon as I walk out into the sunlight and air, I feel a measure of the dark lift. That powerful sense of doom that descended upon me when the scroll was opened, sails away.
Not all of it, though. A seed remains. A seed it feels I’ll never be able to dig out.
After all, I’ve just learned the stuff of nightmares – the Night itself – is real.
Now I’m about to meet the woman who will hold it back. Princess Mara.
Two guards lead me along the balcony, their strident footfall muffled by the wind. Throughout the halls and great atriums of the palace, every footstep felt like the beat of a drum. Out here, though, everything returns to normal.
Or at least a measure of normal.
For as the guards lead me around the balcony, we ascend a short flight of stairs and enter a section partitioned with majestic potted plants. I spy blood red roses from the east, delicate irises from our own lands, and the rare beauty of jeweled desert orchids.
The wind picks up, but it doesn’t roar. It rushes freely by me, bringing with it the refreshing scent of rain from the mountains behind the city. It also whistles past my armor, cooling my exposed hands and cheeks, and chasing away the lingering touch of the Night.
Walking past a bank of luscious green plants, we enter an enclosed area with a grand golden and white recliner. Above it is a delicate red and blue shade umbrella, decorated with beads that tumble and clink in the wind.
Sitting beneath is Princess Mara.
Beautiful, graceful, elegant Mara.
She looks up as we approach, then she jumps to her feet, the bracelets around her ankles and wrists tinkling lightly, banging into to the Arak device that holds her magic.
I watch a happy smile spread her ruby lips. Then she claps her hands together. “You’re here.”
I try to contain my own smile as I bow formally, practically bending in half as I sweep my arm before me.
“Don’t stand on ceremony, please,” she says as she races to my side. She stops just before me, but in a moment of hesitation, it seems as if she wants to throw her arms around me in an embrace.
My cheeks redden, and I tell myself it’s just the bite of the constant wind.
Mara now clamps her hands firmly behind her back, and rocks back and forth on her feet awkwardly. She can’t seem to shift her smile, though; she beams up at me as if we’re long parted friends who have met up once more.
In a way, we are. I’ve known her for years. My father was one of the head guards at the palace. I’ve seen Mara grow up.
Now… now she’s the Savior.
Despite her warm smile and welcome, I can’t forget that.
My chest deflates slightly, and my own smile slowly drifts into a frown.
She watches me, and takes a breath, turning and pushing her hair behind her ears.
She’s wearing golden anklets and bracelets, and a white trimmed fitted blue dress with loose black pants. Her lustrous black hair lies loosely over her back, held back only by a jade comb.
However, even her appearance can’t make me forget why I’m here.
“You… know then. They showed you the scroll?” Mara doesn’t turn to me, her voice growing uncharacteristically tight.
She’s one of the happiest, most carefree people I know.
Yet here she is unable to face me. I know why.
.…
She’s the Savior.
The enormity of that fact suddenly hits me, and my shoulders deflate, my skin feeling deathly cold.
She half turns over her shoulder, and though she tries to hide her expression, I can tell it borders on morose.
For someone usually so cheerful, it’s painful to watch.
I can’t lift her burden, though, can I? No matter what I do, I can’t change the destiny that awaits her.
.…
Again I’m hit by the reality of the situation. On the last day of the age, Mara will have to summon the great earth spirit and fight alongside her to keep the Night at bay. No army will be able to assist her. No one else will be able to stand by her side.
She’ll be on her own.
Her only hope will be her training. If she goes in as prepared as she can be, she may have a chance.
Yet if the legends are true, and if Mara fails, then there will be no more ages of the earth. The world will be plunged into the perpetual Night, all creation crushed back into chaos.
“I… I don’t know what to say,” she admits with a heavy sigh. “Just… thank you. It means a lot that you would agree to help train me.”
I press my lips together, unable to say a word. If I speak now, my words would be a jumble of breath and emotion.
So I stand there, staring at my boots, unable to even face her.
“They tell me training will have to begin as soon as possible,” she admits as she runs a hand up and down her bare arm, her bracelets jingling lightly with the move. “I want you to help plan and schedule them. I want someone I really trust,” she says with a nod.
I nod back.
Then I move to shake my head.
I have to train Mara – the Royal Princess. That fact slams into my gut like a blow.
She’s a princess, a princess. I’m going to have to train her like a common soldier.
She’s meant to be protected from war, and yet she’ll have to be trained far more thoroughly than any warrior in all the Royal Army.
“Yang… say something?” she turns and looks up at me, one hand locked on her wrist. “Yang?”
“Princess—”
“I told you, don’t stand on ceremony – you can use my name.”
“Mara,” I swallow, “I… I’ll do everything I can.”
Though my words are weak, somehow they make her smile. “Thank you,” she manages quietly. “Hey, this means I get to beat you at magic,” she says as she playfully lifts her hand and sends a light shower of sparks raining down beside me.
Despite how horrible the situation is, I smile. Then once more as she sends another playful jet my way.
I laugh lightly, putting my hand up and easily forcing the magic back.
.…
The smile doesn’t last.
I have to… help her and organize the rest of her training. I’ll have to find warriors and sorcerers skilled enough to show her what she needs to know.
This task is… enormous. Unfathomable, almost.
I start to flounder, but Mara just smiles harder.
“I thought you Royal Army sorcerers weren’t meant to have emotions,” she points out as she hooks her hand behind her and leans in with a pressed-lipped smile. Though I can tell she’s still tense and sad on the inside, she puts on a show of being easygoing.
“Ah… sorry?” I suddenly realize what she said.
“You look nervous,” she points right at me, “and I thought the great Captain Yang couldn’t get nervous.”
I open my mouth to protest.
She waves me off. “It’s okay,” she says in a much softer voice, “it’s… okay,” she half turns again.
I wish it were.
“So…” she sighs deeply, “we’re meant to begin soon. Apparently, they’ve found some great warrior to train me. They were going to let him be in charge, but I demanded you be my overseer,” Mara notes as she sweeps her arms in front of herself and starts to distractedly pick at one of the plants before her.
“You did?” a shot of nerves rekindles in my gut. For a Royal Army sorcerer, I’m being alarmingly emotional. I try to believe that the record keepers are
right – and it’s just a transient reaction to the scroll – but I can’t kick the feeling it’s something more.
Maybe I’m feeling so much, because I’ve never experienced so much in such a short time. Maybe all that training I underwent for all my life isn’t enough to prepare me for what I’m going through now.
Then I stop. I realize what she said.
“Hold on. Do you mean Castorious Barr?” I ask, a slight waver in my tone.
Princess Mara turns and nods. “Yes, that’s his name, I think. I’m meant to begin shortly. I’m so glad you’re here, though. I’m sure this Barr fellow will be happier knowing a fellow soldier is around.”
I don’t say anything. I don’t even raise an eyebrow. I do, however, swallow.
Castorious Barr will not be happier knowing I’m around. The last time I sat alone with him, he threatened to rip my throat out and break me.
I don’t, of course, share a word of this.
I stand there and nod.
“Are you ready?” Mara turns, lets her arms drop loosely by her sides, and closes her eyes for a brief moment. “Well?”
“I nod.”
“Then I am too,” she walks forward, and to my total surprise, hooks an arm into mine.
Before I can splutter and pull back, she pats my elbow and walks off. “Thank you for being here,” she says quietly as she walks away.
.…
I follow. Not before the wind rushes into me, smelling of rain from the mountains. I stare up, catching a glimpse of those frozen, snow-covered caps in the distance.
Wild and untamed, they remind me of her.
Yin.
Someone I shouldn’t have the time to think about. Yet someone, apparently, that will not get out of my mind.
The memory and power of her are about as potent as the woman herself.
Still, with a determined breath, I push her from my mind and follow.
For now, I am needed.