Chapter 8 #2
“Because Amantius deemed them unworthy. They are an inferior branch of humanity that should have died off thousands of years ago,” the king snapped, slamming his goblet of wine down with a force that rattled the table.
The hostility boiling within me surged to a fever pitch. What made him worthy? How on Earth had Amantius deemed this arrogant man deserving of her Celestial’s Light while leaving Earthlings to fend for themselves throughout the entirety of their existence?
Jion must have noticed the way my skin grew beet red because he jumped into the conversation before I had the opportunity to explode.
“Unfortunately, Earthlings have proven themselves to be…volatile. Aggressive. Prone to fighting. Amantius is a Goddess of love and peace. She does not reward those who go against her values. She allowed Earthlings to wield her Light long ago but took it away once they engaged in warfare and violence… Once they forgot their origins.”
His tone was calm and considerate, yet I felt a pang of frustration towards him as well.
To Jion’s credit, his explanation made sense.
From what I had read about Amantius, she prided herself on spreading love throughout the universe.
That was the very reason she had banished the Anu back to their home planet, Caelum, forbidding them from planting their seeds of civilization elsewhere.
It broke my heart to realize that the place I called home, once a utopia of peace, had devolved into a cesspool of brutality and destruction.
Could we ever return to those core values?
I wished I could say it was possible, but deep down, I knew that was a lie.
Earth felt too far gone for redemption, yet I refused to let go of hope.
“Glade,” the king said, directing his attention to his younger son. “Tell me how training is going with the young lady. Is she capable of wielding a weapon? Does she have the potential to be a fighter?”
“It’s going—”
“Why do you not allow women to train in combat?” I interrupted, my indignation cutting through the conversation. I was eager to see the king squirm.
The king’s skeptical gaze flicked from me to Glade, sizing him up with suspicion, before returning his attention to me. “Females are not allowed to train in combat because we need them in other areas of our society.”
“What areas of society?” I pressed, rage boiling in my core. I knew the answer. I just wanted to hear him say it.
“Females are expected to do…feminine things. Such as bearing children, minding them, supporting their husbands, cleaning, cooking, washing clothes, and so on.” He waved his hand dismissively, as if I were merely an annoyance, then turned back to his meal.
Before he could deflect the conversation again, I leaned forward, my voice rising with resentment.
“What about the Tenebrae? What if women could help fight them? You’re shunning half of your population.
That must be crippling your numbers on the battlefield!
” I slammed my fork onto the table, the sound ringing like a gunshot.
“You will hold your tongue, Last Daughter of Domus!” The king’s voice thundered through the room as he banged his palms onto the wooden table.
“You come into my home and dare question my rule! You are joining us this evening because you are the prophesied one, to prepare you for the wifely duties that will surely fall upon you when you marry Jion. You are not a member of the nobility yet, and I advise you to remember that. Or else, you can await your marriage in the cells beneath the castle!” His finger jutted toward me, ferociously trembling.
For the first time, I felt the suffocating terror that his family must have endured daily.
The queen sat beside him, silent as a mouse, her eyes closed, breathing slowly as if her very life depended on it.
Jion sat across the table, his head buried in his hands, disappointment radiating off him in waves.
And Glade? He was rigid beside me, a statue.
I scanned the room, desperate for someone, anyone, to stand up for me.
But as I looked around, I realized this situation was all too familiar for both the royal family and myself.
No one had ever defended me during my childhood.
No one had protected me from bastards or predators.
I had done that all on my own, and it seemed I would have to do it again.
With a surge of determination, I pushed my chair back so abruptly that it squealed against the floor, the sound piercing the bitter silence of the dining room. Standing as tall as I could muster, I stormed out, vowing never to lay eyes on that miserable man again.
“Jane!” Jion called after me, but it was too late. I had already crossed through the grand wooden doors and entered the cool corridors beyond.
Tears streamed down my cheeks as I hurried away, and I hastily wiped them, my breath hitching in my throat.
How had I gotten here? How had my ordinary, mundane life devolved into this bizarre, fantastical nightmare?
Perhaps I was still asleep or maybe comatose, trapped in some strange limbo I couldn’t escape.
I didn’t want to be here. I needed to find a way off this dreadful planet.
As I turned corner after corner, I heard footsteps trailing behind me. Without glancing back, I firmly shouted, “Go away, Jion! I want to be—”
Someone slammed me against the wall of the hallway. My head struck the marble with a nauseating thud, and stars exploded in my sight.
I struggled to make out my attacker through the dizziness in the dim light. All I could see were thick black robes flailing freely.
Desperately, I tried to regain my footing, but instead, a pair of hands wrapped around my throat, pinning me to the floor.
Panic surged in me as I tried to claw at the assailant’s hood, fighting to expose their identity, but my efforts were in vain.
Darkness crept at the edges of my vision, and as consciousness slipped away, I mustered every ounce of strength I had left to pry their palms from my neck.
A blinding force of Light erupted into the corridor, striking my attacker with an unyielding force that sent them hurtling ten feet away, landing with a bone-jarring thud.
My lungs burned for air as I gasped, clutching my throat. My vision cleared just enough for me to see what was unfolding before me.
Glade stepped forward, closing the distance between himself and the fallen figure, who struggled to rise, faltering under the impact of their injuries. The air was thick with the acrid scent of sizzling flesh.
The prince seized the attacker by the throat of its tattered cloak, lifting the creature effortlessly into the air, ramming it against the wall. In one swift motion, he ripped away the hood, revealing the horrendous face beneath.
It was a frail, grotesque man, his features a horrifying mockery of humanity.
His eyes were a glowing, ghastly red. His teeth were yellowed and sharpened like a predator’s.
The man’s skin was a sickly shade of grey, thin, and scabbed in many places, and tufts of colourless hair clung to his scalp, falling out in ragged clumps.
He looked less like a man and more like a demon masquerading in human form.
On his forehead was a symbol I had never seen before: a circle encompassing another circle at its centre, both marred by a single X that stretched beyond their diameters. It appeared red and inflamed, as if it had been freshly branded into his skin.
Before I could scrutinize his features any further, Glade drew a dagger from his belt, the same one I had attempted to steal just days before. He pressed the blade to the sickly man’s throat and sliced deeply.
A scream erupted from my chest. Never in my life had I witnessed such brutality. I had seen my fair share of brawls growing up, but this was something else entirely—watching someone die.
“What was that?” I demanded, my voice trembling as I shook.
Glade stepped back from the body, the lifeless form crumpling to the ground. He inspected the corpse, ensuring it was truly dead.
Satisfied, he knelt before me and released a long, heavy pent-up breath. “That, Jane, is a Tenebranian piece of shit. I think they know you’re here.”