Chapter 5 #2
In middle school, I became an easy target for teasing.
My “outfit choices” were ridiculed by kids who didn’t have to think twice about what they wore.
I learned to brush off their snide remarks until the day that ninth grader took things further.
She grabbed me by the back of my baggy sweatshirt, yanked me to the ground, and struck me over and over, her fists slamming into my face.
On Ornath, though, it seemed everyone shared a similar economic standing, and that left me baffled. How could an entire society live so harmoniously, with everyone having enough to live comfortably?
“They all seem so happy,” I murmured, the words slipping out before I could hold them back. An unexpected twinge of envy edged my voice.
“The king cares for his subjects greatly,” Jion declared, the pride he felt in his kingdom palpable.
I struggled to believe it. The hardened, ruthless man I’d met seemed incapable of genuine compassion. From everything I had seen, the king was a monster.
“And what about you?” I asked Jion, though deep down, I felt I already knew his answer.
I barely knew him, yet I found it hard to imagine him causing harm to anyone, let alone his people.
Then again, maybe that made me foolish. Was I really so naive that a handsome man could flash a kind smile, and I’d trust him without question?
Jion observed the villagers, delight and admiration twinkling in his eyes. “I will follow my father’s example and do my best to ensure that Ornath continues to be prosperous.”
“But how is that done?” I quizzed the prince, keeping a watchful eye on the bustling, contented faces around us. “I don’t see a single soul that is poor or wanting for anything, really.”
As Honour trotted steadily along the cobblestone road, the gentle motion brought us close, our shoulders brushing with each sway.
Jion looked at me with a warmth that made me feel like I wasn’t just a stranger in his world.
I was a friend. “There are less fortunate people on Ornath. Don’t let the village fool you.
But we—and by that, I mean the crown—do everything we can to ensure as many of our people as possible are cared for and nurtured. ”
“That’s admirable,” I breathed, the bittersweet ache in my voice barely audible.
Jion’s brows knitted together with concern. “Does Earth not do the same for its people?”
I muttered, “No, it does not.”
A short while later, Jion, the guards, and I arrived at what I assumed was the library.
It might have been the most grandiose building I had seen in Ornath, second only to the castle.
Marble was a valued commodity on this planet, as this building, too, was crafted from gleaming white slabs.
However, what set it apart was the massive golden dome crowning the entire structure, gleaming brilliantly under the sunlight.
Jion dismounted from Honour and turned, reaching up to offer me his hand. I took it, lifting myself out of the saddle. But my inexperience with horseback riding betrayed me, and I slipped, my balance lost. In an instant, Jion’s arms wrapped around my waist, catching me as I tumbled into his chest.
“Whoa! I got you,” he said, holding me firmly as I steadied myself. His strong grip kept me grounded, preventing an otherwise graceless fall.
“I’m so sorry!” I blabbered, the heat once again returning to prickle my cheeks. As I found my balance, a light, sweet scent drifted into my senses like candy hearts on Valentine’s Day.
“Nonsense, Jane. No need to apologize,” Jion assured, brushing off my humiliation with a kind smile. Then, as his attention turned towards his guards, he said, “Gentlemen, this is far enough. Thank you for the escort. You are dismissed.”
The guards respectfully nodded before heading toward the library’s front gates.
Jion offered me his arm again, and I took it gratefully as we began our ascent up the dozens of white marble steps leading to the enormous black doors at the building’s centre.
With significant effort, Jion pushed them open, and we stepped inside.
The interior was unlike any library I had ever seen. When I was younger, I would often walk to the city’s public library whenever I needed to escape the chaos of my foster homes. Depending on which family I was with, that could be for a multitude of reasons.
When I was eight, I was placed in a home where my foster “dad” took to the bottle a little too kindly, often threatening his wife.
Despite the monthly check they received for fostering me, most of the money went to alcohol.
I never saw a dime of it, not even for basic things like clothes or school supplies.
At eleven, I found myself in a different home, one where I was constantly uncomfortable around my foster “brother.” He was a few years older and would make unsettling comments or advances, pointing out the changes in my body as I hit puberty.
By the time I was fifteen, social media was everywhere, and I was desperate to connect with people my age.
My foster parents wouldn’t let me use their computer, even if it was for schoolwork.
The only place I could access the internet was the library, so I spent countless hours there, not just to do homework, but to feel a small connection to a world outside the walls of my “home.”
I didn’t have many friends growing up—just one, really. But her parents had a preconceived notion that I was trouble because of my upbringing.
Although I was never a standout student in the public education system, I found solace in fantasy books. I could spend hours in the library, from opening to closing, sometimes forgetting to eat all day.
This library, however, was a far cry from the public library I used to visit.
The floors and walls gleamed with the same polished marble that adorned the exterior of the building.
Large black lanterns lined the walls, each glowing with yellow orbs that illuminated the space like stars in the night sky, reminiscent of the lanterns in my bedroom suite.
Above us, the ceiling was a masterpiece, intricately painted from corner to corner.
It depicted the cosmos—swirling galaxies, shimmering stars—and in the centre floated an ethereal woman.
Her arms were outstretched toward each side.
She had been painted to glow with a soft pink luminescence that sparkled.
Her flowing white robes billowed gracefully around her, and her golden hair cascaded like a waterfall, wrapping around thousands of galaxies as if encasing them in her protective embrace.
Each galaxy glistened with vibrancy. Neon colours contrasted against the deep indigo backdrop of outer space. It was as though she were the guardian of the universe, protecting all from harm.
Jion strode toward the entrance desk, where an elderly woman was startled at his approach. Her hands trembled as she tried to compose herself.
“P-Prince Jion!” she stuttered. “Oh, how lovely it is for you to visit! We haven’t seen you around the library since you were a boy! To what do we owe the pleasure?”
Jion cleared his throat. “Please, Jodana, don’t embarrass me in front of the young lady and make me out to be an uneducated clown,” he teased as he laughed.
Jodana’s face paled, her eyes widening. “Oh my, no, Jion! I mean, Your Highness. I didn’t mean… You’re just so busy these days.”
Jion waved his hand reassuringly, a warm toothy smile spreading across his face. “I’m just jesting, Jodana. It has been some time. How are things here at the library?” The prince leaned forward and rested his elbows on the librarian’s desk.
“Oh, they are lovely, Your Highness,” she claimed, her shoulders lowering and relaxing. “You must thank your father for the delivery of novels from Cadanva. Thank goodness we received them before…before…” Her voice faltered, and her gaze drifted off into the distance.
Jion grasped her hands gently with his own. His goofy expression evolved to a frown. “Thank goodness we received them in time. Let us never forget our fallen neighbours.”
“Let us never forget,” she echoed softly, her eyes glistening like diamonds. Jodana lowered her voice into a near whisper as she dipped her chin towards the prince. “How many is it now?”
“Too many.” Jion spoke quickly, though the weight of immense grief was clear in his tone. He shifted the conversation. “My lady and I are here to retrieve some books on the Anu. Could you please point us in the right direction?”
The old woman repressed her anguish and beamed brightly.
“Of course! The Anu’s section is located in our ancient department.
You will find a set of stairs down the hall and to the right.
Follow them down four flights, and you will come to some large doors.
Pass through the doors, and you shall find what you are looking for there.
Would you like me to escort you, My Prince? ”
“No, no. That will not be necessary. Thank you for your help, Jodana,” he said and began to stroll towards the corridor.
“Thank you,” I repeated, eager to follow Jion in the direction of further information that I could use to my advantage.
But before I could take a step, Jodana whispered behind me, “Miss? Are you her? Are you the Last Daughter of Domus? Is it really true?”
At this point, I had no idea who I was. However, instead of explaining my current predicament, I simply nodded, holding Jodana’s gaze with my own.
“I am so sorry for your loss, my dear.” Her expression turned somber once more as she watched Jion walk away. “Long ago, my home planet of Halora was also taken by the Tenebrae. Only a few hundred of us made it onto the ships that Ornath had sent. Somehow, I was one of the few lucky ones.”
Tears gathered in Jodana’s eyes as she reached out to touch my hand. “They may take our Celestial, but they will never take our Light.”
I wished I could find some comforting words to offer her in response, but nothing came to mind.
I did not remember Domus. In fact, I didn’t even know if I was truly the “Last Daughter”.
The only evidence to suggest so was my orphaned past. But could that have easily been the result of a terrible choice made by an even worse person?
To leave me alone in the northern forests at only six months old?
The thought sent a shiver through me, and I felt the weight of Jodana’s words pressing heavily on my heart.
For all the doubt that plagued my mind, something in me knew that my mother could not have been so cruel. It was the only thing that drove me to consider that there might be some truth to this “Daughter of Domus” claim.
Jion and I followed Jodana’s instructions and found ourselves in a dimly lit entryway with a heavy brown door ahead of us. In stark contrast to the upstairs level, which was bright and flooded with sunlight from dozens of windows, this basement lair was almost pitch black.
Jion reached up and grabbed one of the lanterns off the wall, holding it in his hand. Once again, I was face to face with that mysterious ball of yellow light that almost resembled fire. It swirled and danced instead of burning, giving off no heat at all.
“What is that?” I questioned him. “It’s in my bedroom and almost all the other rooms I’ve been in. Actually, it’s pretty much everywhere.”
“This is Source Light,” he stated, as if that simple phrase explained everything.
When I raised an eyebrow at him, he chuckled and added, “This is how we power, well, everything here on Ornath.”
I tentatively reached out to cup the ball of dancing light in my hand.
It felt like nothing I had ever encountered before; it didn’t harm me at all.
Instead, it tickled my palm, like it was bursting with pure energy.
The Source Light reflected off Jion’s face, painting him in a golden hue, and I noticed he was watching me intently, a soft smile playing on his lips as he took joy in my newfound discovery.
“It’s beautiful,” I breathed, captivated by its allure. “Where does it come from?”
“From Amantius,” he replied.
And with that, he unlatched the door and stepped inside.