Chapter 22 - Lights
July
My life on Horigos was just fine; like many others, I was a child without knowledge of life, pain, lies—or souls. That is, until my gift started to show, and my parents decided to try every creed on Horigos to purify me.
They travelled the continent from north to south, trying to find a cure for whatever was happening to their little girl, whose breath was slowly turning purple.
One day, we were roaming the streets of Brenath, and I noticed a cat resting under a fishmonger’s stall.
They ordered me to return when I rushed towards it, but the only thing I could focus on was the thin, smoke-like thread coming out of its fur—its soul slowly abandoning its body.
Even if, at the time, I didn’t know and acted by pure instinct.
They thought my sanity was irremediably gone when I began to cry, trying to push the soul back into the cat.
While I was distraught to see the poor animal slowly dying before my eyes, my parents and the people around me only witnessed a child playing with something invisible over the corpse of an insignificant animal.
Everyone, that is, but a stranger with a walking cane tapping against the cobbled street.
“You’re in the wrong place, my child.” He’d addressed me. A crying little girl.
Roden trained me, made me believe I could be a protector to our people and the Horigeans.
But all he told me was just a sugarcoated version of the truth, layered with bullshit.
That’s all I remember from my short life on Horigos—always being an exception, the lonely anomaly. And sometimes, I still feel like I'm walking alone—especially in my dreams. I’m a little girl, and my hand cuts through the air, searching for another hand to hold. But all I grasp is emptiness.
I had those dreams every night after relocating to Libera until I met Galen; when I told him about my mares, he gave me a pair of gloves.
“Keep them next to you when you go to sleep. They’re mine, and it will be like holding my hands,” he had said with such a serious face that I took his advice as scientifically proven.
I cling to that warm memory as I climb the centuries-old stone stairs of one of the five towers of the Blind Wise; the fresh air of the night welcomes me as a broad smile spreads on my face, already savouring whatever surprise awaits me.
But except for some gulls flying by, I’m alone. The square roof is empty, and Galen is nowhere to be seen.
I drop my smile, feeling foolish, and I quickly cross the distance from the arched door on top of the stairs to the parapet overlooking the Wise’s inner courtyard, where, once a day, students and senior Harvesters take combat and shooting classes.
None of the castle’s outdoor areas is off-limits. There is a main gate and three smaller entrances on the longer sides and at the back of the Wise, but they’re never locked.
And yet, I’m surprised to hear sounds coming from the yard just below the tower, of steps and disembodied voices, distorted and carried away by the wind that blows from the north shore.
Ignoring the voice at the back of my head telling me it’s none of my business, I push against the parapet and get up on my toes, craning my neck to catch a glimpse of whoever is in the garden.
“Looking for something?”
I spin around so fast that the palms of my hands scratch against the uneven stones.
“You are so inconsiderate! I could have hit you... or... or jumped…over the wall—and died. Why do you always do that? Can you not just announce yourself like a normal person?” I step away from the parapet, shivering and glaring at Galen.
“Nosy and over dramatic. I’m happy to see your mood has improved since this morning,” he chortles, staring at me from under the tower’s arched door, hands in his pockets, before strolling towards me.
I blow on the little grazes on my hands to soothe the sting, and the air comes out in a light violet puff. March is a month of continuous weather changes, but—when did it get so cold so suddenly?
“Look what you’ve done.” I raise my hands, gesturing at the tiny red spots on my palms.
Galen dismisses my non-life-threatening situation with a shrug. “Blame your curiosity and the old stones, not me.”
Had he not just made a subtle negative remark about my overthinking brain, I would have invited him to look down with me to find out who had decided to spend the last free hours of a fine Sunday night in the darkness of a solitary courtyard.
Instead, I mumble a pathetic excuse for my behaviour and follow his movements as he approaches the wall and looks up at the sky. “You know what? I think the last snowfall of the year is coming.”
I search the sky, moving closer to Galen. He’s changed his clothes since this morning, and his thick, black cashmere jumper looks so soft and warm I’d gladly snuggle inside it like a squirrel.
Resting my forehead against his arm, I whisper, “What’s with the fancy outfit?” I eye his black trousers and crisp white shirt, clearly freshly ironed, peaking out from under his jumper.
Galen gives me a quick side-eye but remains silent.
I step back to take in the whole picture and pinch his biceps before pointing at his head. “Aha! And you did your hair… Are you going somewhere else later?” I narrow my eyes so much I can barely notice a smile stretching on his lips.
“Why do you always think something is going on behind your back, Sof? Always a mystery?” He tilts his head, offering me his hand. “Come on, follow me and no more questions until we are there.”
“But I thought we were already there,” I protest, hiding my neck in my shoulders when a gust of wind blows from behind me.
“Na-ha, no more chatting.”
As I nod and take his hand, he leads me away from the parapet and back to the tower’s door.
But instead of heading back down, he takes the second set of stairs towards the Wise’s tallest tower, added by Roden to the original structure as a statement of his self-proclaimed ownership over the castle.
As I finally understand, I exclaim, “You tricked me!” Even if I can’t see his face, I can hear him giggling.
Still holding my hand, climbing slowly so I can follow without tripping, Galen says, “Did you really think I would have let you come here before me and spoil whatever I was planning?”
“So you gave me the wrong location?”
He stops to look at me over his shoulder quickly. “Not exactly. I gave you the right location that leads to our final destination.”
We remain silent for a few more steps until he asks, “How does it feel not knowing where the next step will take you?”
I open my mouth to answer, but I forget my words when a larger door appears in front of us with the dark shape of Roden’s Tower rising behind it. The mist cannot conceal its thick body as its top soars sturdy and lonely against the dark blue sky.
“It feels—inevitable.” I’m not sure why my answer sounds more like a question.
Galen’s grip on my hand tightens before he says, “Don’t lie to me. I know you need to know every single detail of your day. Even if you’re going for a run. You need to know the path, obstacles, and weather forecast. I know you’re dying to stop and force me to tell you what’s on that tower.”
My answer doesn’t come as promptly as I’d like it to, and I fall silent at the irony of his words. At the monumental pile of uncertainty my life has turned into in the last forty-eight hours.
I take a deep breath, letting go of his hand to step before him and crossing my arms over my middle. “I just…like to be ready—” My voice breaks when I focus on what’s waiting behind the door’s metal bars.
Roden’s tower’s roof is only accessible on special occasions, but Galen managed to have its gate unlocked tonight. It matches the size of the room hosted inside the tower, which was converted into a vast ballroom and floored with white marble veined with real gold.
“Galen, how did you…?” I pirouette, giggling, and find him leaning against the side wall, staring at me with a satisfied smirk.
“Someone owed me a favour, but don’t get too excited; we only have access to the roof, not the ballroom,” he states with a pinch, well - a spoonful - of pride.
He pushes away from the entrance without taking his eyes off me and saunters over. “Let me show you something…” He offers me his hand and, without warning, spins me in his arms, covering my eyes with his free hand. “Trust me…” he whispers, his breath warm against the shell of my ear.
I put one foot in front of the other, letting him guide me.
Until he lifts one finger at a time. “Keep your eyes closed.”
For a moment, there’s just me and the chilled night breeze.
“You can look now…” Galen rests a finger under my chin and gently lifts my head as I open my red Harvester eye first, then the green one.
It takes me a few seconds, but when my eyes adjust, I gasp.
The stars seem to have reverted to their course.
Instead of growing darker, the sky lights up with the warming tones of dawn.
But I soon notice that the tower itself is igniting the sky with a myriad of white and purple fairy lights that run along and across the walls.
Joy bursts out of my mouth as I start twirling with my arms open to take in all the magical, unexpected scenery.
“Did you do this? When? How?” I chirp like an excited child.
I stop spinning only when Galen catches my hands, and I nearly stumble, stopping from bumping my head against his chest just in time. I close my eyes and take a deep breath to help my stomach settle.
When I reopen them, Galen is staring at me with a delightful smile beaming on his perfect lips.
“I’d do anything for you, Sof.”
Once, he told me I was like a missing piece of his life he didn’t know he’d lost.
“Sof?”
“Sorry, I was reminiscing.”
“About?”
“Missing pieces.” I smile and break free from his hands.