2. Elora
2
ELORA
I sit quietly in my father’s chamber, watching the flames of the fire behind his chair flicker, casting long shadows on the walls and ceiling.
Olam sits to my right, quietly watching the fire as well.
King Logan walks around the corner from his study, carrying a large leather-bound scroll.
I regard him quietly, clasping my hands in my lap nervously.
I didn’t understand the significance of the babe having been born blonde. Yes, it was odd that a sun touched male child would be born to a long line of moon touched.
Weirder things have happened.
My father sits across from us, lowering himself into his chair with a groan. He unrolls the scroll onto the table between us.
“Elora, this is your first time hearing this story. I didn’t feel the need to tell you before now.”
I nod, leaning forward a bit to glance at the scroll.
“The story goes like this: Earth was the prize of a war that spanned millennia. After man fell, the few left were given a choice. We could stay and be given another chance, or we could perish to the demons that would roam the Earth.”
He adjusts in his chair before continuing.
“The price was their technology. The last descendants of Eden agreed, and the remaining people on Earth were split into three kingdoms. First, the Kingdom of Prelia was built near the ocean. The second, the Kingdom of Ferran was built in the flat lands of the valley.”
I listen as my father points to each corresponding location on the map laid out before us.
“The third, our Kingdom. The Kingdom of Delyra, was built high in the mountains.”
I nodded. I’d read all of this. The story changes over time, but the basis stays the same.
“What they did not put in the books,” My father begins again, “Is that each kingdom is also governed by a deity. After the kingdoms were built, and our people settled into our new way of life, demons started to roam freely among our lands.
“When they realized they could gain easy meals by infiltrating our walls, life became a struggle to survive once again. Each kingdom made a deal with our benevolent deities to preserve our peace.”
I swallow thickly as nervousness flutters in my stomach.
“In exchange for one-thousand years of peace, each kingdom would give something of great value.” My father sits back against the high back of his chair.
He regards my brother quietly.
“Delyra has always produced people with white hair. Our people became known as moon-touched for obvious reasons. The flowers that bloom during the full moon only grow in these mountains.”
His gaze moves to me, and I shift nervously.
“There has only been one sun-touched male child born to our line in a thousand years, and he lies in the arms of his mother at this very moment.”
The air escapes my lungs with a shaky whoosh .
Silence impregnates the space between us. I don’t dare look over at my brother. I can feel tears stinging the backs of my eyes, but I don’t dare let one fall.
“Olam,” my father starts, “Your son has been promised to our deity, Amon. In exchange for peace, we must abide by our contract.”
I clasp my hands tightly in my lap, looking past my father at the flickering flames. I try to swallow my tears, taking long, deep breaths.
I want to sob. I want to sob for my brother, for Ziterra, for the innocent child that lay upstairs at this very moment, unaware of this fate.
The silence is deafening save for the crackling of the fire.
I open my mouth to speak, but the words get caught in my throat.
I clear it before trying again. “I-is there no other way?” The words come out as a whisper, and I turn to look at Olam finally.
He sits, his eyes devoid of anything.
My father regards Olam as well, before finally shifting his gaze to me.
“No, my child, not that I am aware. Nobody ever thought this would come to pass. I certainly didn’t expect to see it in my lifetime.”
He reaches up a hand to run it down his beard.
“The convergence is upon us, and I assume Amon will be visiting soon to retrieve the infant.” His gaze shifts to Olam again. “Son, you may want to prepare your wife.”
Olam sits a moment longer, his gaze finally coming back to the present moment. He makes eye contact with my father before briefly sliding his gaze towards me.
He stands slowly, bowing slightly before turning and exiting the chamber.
I watch him leave, pity and sadness coiling thickly in my throat. Turning back to my father, I can’t help but take in his very weary state. I hadn’t realized until now how much he had aged.
His grey eyes seem dim, but the lines at the corner of his eyes and mouth tell me he was happy once.
I stand, dipping slightly before turning to exit the chamber as well.
Once in the corridor, I wrap my arms around myself, letting the tears fall. They roll down my cheeks silently, and I turn my face up to the window, taking in the bright orb of the moon through blurry eyes.
It is almost full, and the convergence would be upon us.
Turning, I start down the corridor in the direction of my room.
Amon…
My father said the demon’s name was Amon.
I recognized the name but for the life of me couldn’t remember where I had seen it.
I filter through books and books of texts in my mind, trying to picture where I has seen it.
My eyes pop open and I turn back towards the library.
I do something I haven’t done in a very, very long time.
I run.
The library is dark, save for a few candles and sconces. I enter the giant room, panting, my heart thundering behind my ribcage.
I grab a candle from the table next to me, lifting my skirts as I ascend the staircase to my right.
At the top is a large wooden door. I reach for a book on the shelf next to it, blowing the dust off of the binding.
I open it and pull the skeleton key from the compartment within.
Only a few of the castle’s inhabitants knew the key was here.
Inserting it into the lock, I turn it, and the door unlocks with a clunk that echoes through the library.
I take a deep breath, pushing the door open. It groans, and I squeeze through, closing it behind me gently.
The room on the other side is only about a quarter of the size of the entire library, but all the manuscripts covering our history were kept here.
I run my fingers along the bindings of ancient leather-bound books. Everything was here.
There were books that covered a time much like our own, thousands of years prior to the fall of man.
They called it “The Dark Ages.”
There were books that covered many wars throughout history. Some in which technology played a significant role. Pictures of armored vehicles and weapons I had never seen fascinated me as a child.
I took pride in myself for all the knowledge I had absorbed.
Although there was still a lot here I had never touched, I had at least skimmed through most of it.
I pause on a book, pulling it from the shelf, blowing the dust from the cover.
Opening it gingerly, I run my fingers over the faded pages. There was a lot in here I didn’t understand, but it remained one of my favorites.
I close it again, running my finger over the faded title.
“The Holy Bible.”
I hold it to my chest for a moment before I return it to its place on the shelf.
I continue my search, looking for anything that will stand out.
I stop at a large book bound in black leather. The words on the binding have since faded. Nothing but the engravement remains.
“The Lesser Key of Solomon.”
Opening the book, I flip through the heavy parchment. I lift the book to my nose, inhaling deeply. The smell of books always made me feel at ease.
Like I belonged.
Walking to the table at the center of the room I sit, placing the candle next to me. I flip through the pages slowly, scanning the text.
The book goes over every single demon in the hierarchy of… Hell.
Each demon has their own station, an army they control, as well as the types of powers and advantages they have.
My heart skips when I come across the name.
Amon.
I scan the page, my heart thudding in my chest.
The stories were all true.
Everything I had been told as a child. All the scary stories of demons coming in the night.
It was all true.
The demon’s sigil is drawn at the bottom of the page, and I swallow thickly.
Turning the page, I frown. Between two pages lies a folded piece of parchment.
I pick it up, opening it gingerly before turning it towards the candlelight to see the image better.
It’s the same sigil that’s in the book, but there’s writing at the bottom. I run my fingers over the letters, my frown deepening.
It’s a different language, but I can’t decipher it. It looks like…
“Latin!” I say, jumping from the sound of my own voice.
I jump up from the table, grabbing my candle before moving towards the door to open it. The creaking groan of the door fills the empty space, and I pause, listening for movement before stepping out into the library.
Leaving the door cracked, I patter to a shelf a ways down from the door, stopping to run my fingers along the bindings.
Picking two books off the shelf, I patter back, closing the door behind me gently.
Seated once again, I set the books side by side. One was a Latin dictionary, the other a Latin to English dictionary.
I flip through the pages of the first book, running my finger along the S’s to look for the first word, ‘ Sacrificium.’ My finger stops on the word, “Sacrifice.” I whisper aloud. I move on to the next word. ‘Sanquinis.’
“Blood.” I whisper again, a chill creeping across my skin.
As I begin to decipher the words, my blood begins to run cold.
“A blood sacrifice of both parties.” I say out loud, sitting against the high back of the chair. To force the demon into a bargain, someone must have blood from both parties. Mine and…
Amons…
I swallow thickly, fear enveloping me. In order to attempt a new bargain and force the demons hand, someone would have to be willing to trap the demon long enough to draw blood.
How in the world do you trap a demon?
I set the parchment aside, worrying at my lower lip.
I continue flipping through the heavy parchment, but there’s nothing else that explains it.
Plopping against the backrest of the chair again, I frown.
Where could I find a tutorial on conjuring a demon?
I close my eyes, placing a forefinger against my temple, rubbing gently. Suddenly the day has caught up to me, and I yawn.
I scoot my chair back, stretching before standing. I look down at the books, choosing to leave them here.
Taking the candle with me, I exit the room, locking the door behind me before placing the key in the pocket of my skirt.
Tomorrow morning, as soon as its light out, I will continue looking for an answer.