Chapter 3

  A Princess’s warning

  “You’re lucky,” Magnus said. “My father is being lenient with you. You people from the world below only know how to rely on tricks and deceit.”

  Magnus and Aaronn had left the throne room and were descending the steps toward the palace’s central corridor. The natural scenery gradually gave way to a gilded infrastructure.

  “And you who claim to be so advanced,” Aaronn retorted, “how can you not discern truth from lies?”

  “What?” Magnus snapped, stopping halfway down.

  “You understood me perfectly. My mission has two purposes: to bring equality to your people and to offer you integration into the Arcane.”

  Contrary to Aaronn’s expectations, Magnus remained silent. He turned and resumed walking, stopping only once he had reached the last step. His lack of response unsettled Aaronn, who did not know how to react. He caught up with him.

  Magnus removed his helmet, letting short black strands fall across his forehead. His severe brow contrasted with the purity of his silver eyes. His cheekbones were high, his jaw sharply defined.

  “My prince,” Aaronn said, inclining his head slightly, a crooked smile on his lips.

  The shackles around Aaronn’s wrists vanished in a golden light. He rolled his wrists to loosen them, and Magnus extended his hand. The atmosphere around him had changed—more respectful, his movements more restrained. Aaronn took his hand.

  “I sense a great deal of arrogance in your answers,” the prince declared, “but I will overlook it. I believe you may be right. My ambition is to build a world so magnificent that inequality no longer exists. What better way than to consider you my equal, whoever you may be? I will give you the benefit of the doubt until you prove your worth—though your story is riddled with holes and far from convincing.”

  A glimmer of respect crossed Aaronn’s irises. This man… perhaps something could be built with him.

  “I won’t disappoint you,” he said. “My goal is much the same as yours.”

  They held each other’s gaze for a long moment, as though trying to discern the smallest trace of sincerity in one another’s eyes.

  “Hey, boys,” a voice called out, “why are you always so dramatic?”

  The sound of heels echoed down the corridor.

  “Anastasia, your timing is perfect,” Magnus replied. “Prepare this prince for a duel.”

  “This prince?” Anastasia repeated, raising an eyebrow.

  Aaronn inclined his head slightly toward her, not unmoved by the charm of the young woman who had just arrived. She had long black lashes and brows of the same shade, accentuating her silver eyes and white hair. Her hair was shaved short on one side, longer on top, tousled with deliberate care.

  “This is the intruder we intercepted,” Magnus added.

  “Oh? That’s exactly why I’m here then. So—who is he?”

  “My name is Aaronn Karselfeni. I’ve been sent to negotiate with your people.”

  Anastasia studied him from head to toe with a critical gaze, one hand resting casually on her hip. She had a slender figure, and unlike her brother, her armor was black.

  “He claims to come from another planet,” Magnus continued, “and says he wants to offer his people’s experience to ours. But we’ll have time to discuss that later.”

  “You’re going to challenge him to a duel of light?”

  “Yes. Father wants to test him. He doesn’t believe his story.”

  Anastasia’s thin lips curved in confusion.

  “Why not simply show us what you have to offer?”

  “I can only do that once my conditions are met.”

  She fell silent for a brief moment.

  “It’s strange to offer us something in exchange for conditions. You’re not telling us everything… but fine. Since my brother asks it, follow me. I’ll prepare you for the duel.”

  Aaronn followed her in silence through a succession of corridors adorned with paintings depicting the royal lineage. They passed through a wide doorway into the palace’s central courtyard. Finely sculpted ivory colonnades encircled it in perfect harmony. Broad paths of pearlescent marble reflected the sunlight, and at the center stood a fountain rising from a basin carved from the same stone.

  “We’re not far now,” Anastasia announced. “I won’t bother showing you around. If you truly are a prince, all this should feel familiar.”

  “It doesn’t feel unfamiliar.”

  They reentered the palace and soon arrived in another chamber. The entire outer wall was made of glass, offering a view of the immense mountain that formed the palace’s foundation.

  “Take off your top and lie down on the table facing the window.”

  Aaronn nodded without a word. He stepped past chunks of rock that had collapsed into the room through openings in the wall, then removed his cloak.

  Aaronn’s armor was made of amarite—a material both highly flexible and remarkably resilient. Its most distinctive trait, however, was its ability to transmit information with extreme efficiency: Aaronn could control it by thought alone.

  With a simple act of will, the nanotechnology of his armor activated like an intelligent swarm. His upper armor retracted into the lower half.

  He lay down on the long table.

  “Amarite armor,” Anastasia remarked as she joined him.

  “Though you seem wary of me, you don’t appear surprised that I come from space. Have you had visitors before?”

  Stolen novel; please report.

  “No, this is the first time. But we have a major astronomical center on this island. Our telescope has revealed inhabited worlds before—we simply lack the technology to cross the distance between us.”

  A halo of light sprang from Anastasia’s index finger. She brushed it across his lower abdomen, spreading a cold wave beneath his skin. Aaronn exhaled deeply.

  “What are you doing? It feels… pleasant.”

  “I’m examining you and treating your energetic body. In a duel of light, both fighters must be at their peak.”

  She traced her finger up along his torso.

  “And it’s the princess who handles this?”

  Anastasia paused before continuing.

  “No duel was planned today, and I don’t want to bother one of our specialists for this. Besides, it’ll be over quickly. You’re no match—I can feel it with just my finger. Sit up.”

  No match? He had to admit she wasn’t entirely wrong. The Eleusians were stronger than he had anticipated. His father had not gone easy on him.

  “What are those markings on your back?” Anastasia asked, intrigued.

  “It’s a tattoo.”

  Three black circles danced in a rotating pattern across his back, and Anastasia’s finger gently joined their motion. She followed the tattoo as it moved of its own accord.

  “It’s infused with a form of magic I don’t recognize. I can feel it locking the flow of your energy. Who did this to you?”

  “It isn’t magic. And you don’t need to know who did it. That’s between me and myself.”

  The princess let out a soft, mocking laugh. She had him lie face down and began to massage his back.

  “Men’s egos… I’ll never understand them.”

  “Why stop at the fact that I’m a man? I’m sure I could touch on a subject heavy enough to keep you from opening your mouth.”

  She pressed her fingers more firmly into his muscles.

  “Are you trying to hurt me?” she asked.

  “Never.”

  The massage softened.

  “Then know that I’m simply trying to open your heart. You men are in great need of it.”

  With those words, she reactivated her healing magic and passed her hands over Aaronn’s entire back. His lat muscles spasmed repeatedly. Despite the intensity, the sensation was not unpleasant.

  “Don’t worry,” Anastasia continued. “I won’t touch your tattoo. There are just a few blockages in your body—probably from the cannon shot earlier. I’m surprised by your vitality. I can assure you, you don’t come from the world below.”

  “No,” he replied, “as I’ve repeated countless times to your father and your brother.”

  “If you were completely honest,” she said, “you probably wouldn’t have had to repeat yourself so often.”

  Aaronn had no reply. He changed the subject.

  “Tell me—what are the rules of a duel of light? Have you ever fought in one?”

  “You’ll find out soon enough. And no—women aren’t allowed to fight. I’ve never understood that rule. Women show exceptional aptitude in mastering their divine power.”

  She continued working over the rest of his body.

  “For the people’s safety, when I take you to the dueling grounds, I must place a binding spell on you. Do I have your permission?”

  “Why ask for my permission if it’s necessary?”

  “Because this kind of spell works far better with your consent.”

  “Very well.”

  Facing Aaronn’s back, Anastasia formed a circular energetic structure by tracing a series of rings, each smaller than the last. Her finger ended its path between his shoulder blades, uniting the entire structure at a single point.

  “It’s done. You can get up.”

  Aaronn straightened and sat on the edge of the table.

  “If everything you say is true,” Anastasia advised, “you should give up and return to your planet. I doubt the king wants you to leave this duel alive.”

  Aaronn knew it. He bitterly regretted not finding a better resolution to their confrontation. He set his feet on the ground.

  “I’m hard to kill,” he replied. “Take me to the arena.”

  The chest piece of his armor flowed back over his torso. Anastasia let out a long, irritated breath.

  “Very well,” she said at last. “But I warned you.”

  Mounted on horseback, Aaronn followed the princess toward the city gates. Immense trees lined the road leading to their destination. The wind lashed the leaves, and all the surrounding greenery reminded him of his homeworld—Arthémis—minus the heavy, ever-present humidity.

  “We’re here,” Anastasia announced. “Celestaem, the city in the skies.”

  Aaronn pulled up the hood of his cloak. At the end of the path, a great golden archway opened into the city. He stood in awe of the beauty before him. Sunbeams, previously hidden by the foliage, burst forth and gleamed upon the golden ornaments of the buildings—each more majestic than the last. The pale white marble of the structures lent the city an ancient air.

  “It’s magnificent.”

  “Thank you.”

  They rode on through the city. Hooves rang against marble paving stones. Along their path, inhabitants stepped aside and bowed in respect. Most wore white and brown garments of silk or cotton. A small girl looked up, her silver pupils reflecting the sunlight.

  “Do all of you in Eile?n have the same silver eyes?” Aaronn asked.

  “Yes. It’s the mark of absolute purity. Those of the world below lack it—a testament to their low status.”

  “I see.”

  Life in the city seemed pleasant. Smiles adorned every face, and the sunlight alone invigorated his entire body. Children ran past them, laughter echoing behind.

  “Princess Anastasia! Princess!” cried a fruit merchant.

  He lifted his white robe slightly so it wouldn’t drag on the ground, then hurried over, a fruit concealed in his hand. He offered it to her, revealing a golden, oval shape with layered folds, like a rose with closed petals. With his other hand, he tipped his brown beret in respect.

  “It’s a domina—the only one that grew in my orchard. Please, accept it.”

  The princess raised her hand timidly in refusal.

  “S-sorry, I can’t accept it,” she said. “Dominas aren’t meant to be given to just anyone.”

  Her reluctance only encouraged the merchant.

  “You’re not just anyone. Please accept it—as a sign of my gratitude for everything the king does for us.”

  Anastasia failed to find the right words to refuse. She relented. Once the exchange was complete, they continued on.

  “Would the world below welcome you so warmly?” Aaronn asked, already knowing the answer.

  “Dominas barely grow anywhere but Eile?n,” she replied. “So I highly doubt anyone could offer me one down there. Let’s hurry.”

  She urged her horse forward. Minutes later, they arrived at the arena where the duel would take place. The structure was one of the most imposing in the city, resting on long golden pillars that encircled it entirely.

  Two guards stood watch at the entrance.

  “Prince Magnus must have informed you of my arrival,” Anastasia said. “An improvised duel of light is about to take place.”

  “Of course, Princess. Leave your horses with us—you may enter freely.”

  They dismounted and headed inside. A holographic projection appeared from Anastasia’s temple to just before her right eye.

  “The king has announced the start of the duel in ten minutes,” Magnus’s voice reported. “The Order of the Chosen is assembled.”

  “Was it really necessary to gather them all?” his sister replied.

  “Yes.”

  The communication cut off. Anastasia muttered at her brother’s lack of explanation as they proceeded down the long corridor.

  “What is the Order of the Chosen?” Aaronn asked.

  “On Eile?n, every inhabitant is called a ‘Chosen.’ The king’s highest-ranking fighters are known as ‘warriors of light.’ The Order brings together the strongest among them. Since you have no chance of winning, I’ll be merciful and tell you more. Each Chosen possesses an innate ability. My brother holds the power of infinite creation—he can create whatever he desires.”

  Aaronn showed none of the awe such a revelation might inspire.

  “And you?”

  “I wield a power of blessing. I’ve always loved my gift—it represents love and benevolence. I’ve saved many lives with it… including my younger sister’s at birth.”

  “So there are two princesses, then?”

  “There were. She was banished.”

  They entered a large oval chamber.

  “For what reason?”

  “You don’t need to know.”

  Aaronn smiled and let the matter drop out of respect. They continued on to the great doors leading to the arena.

  “Wait—let me remove the spell I placed on you,” Anastasia said.

  With a wave of her hand, she dispelled it, a white glow evaporating from Aaronn’s back.

  “You men are always trying to gain the upper hand over others. A simple discussion could have sufficed, but you persist in violence. No middle ground. You make decisions without listening to your heart, out of fear of being seen as weak.”

  Aaronn turned to face her.

  “That’s exactly what I came to change on Eleusia. Your father wasn’t very open to my proposal, and that’s understandable. Who would listen to a complete stranger asking them to change their history? It only proves I still have much to learn before I can rise to my father’s level.”

  The princess’s gaze grew perplexed. She didn’t fully grasp his words—no matter how hard she tried.

  “I struggle to understand your intentions, Aaronn,” she said. “But I hope they’re as good as you claim. A complete stranger putting my father in his place? That’s all I ask. Go—and try to stay alive.”

  “I will.”