2. Loveleena
LOVELEENA
The Great Wall was a towering, beastly thing looming in the distance.
She didn’t often think of the creatures beyond with their razor-sharp fangs, torturous mind manipulation, and soul-crushing spiritual warfare—but when she did, she was reminded that there wasn’t an atrocity they couldn’t commit.
Quickly, she shook the image of their disturbing and cruel magic from her mind.
As enormous and steady as the Great Wall was, it wasn’t enough to protect Jarrians. That’s where The Academy of Creature Defense came in. Renowned for its rigorous training that produced the most talented, expertly skilled Defenders, it was the leading force behind Jarrah’s safety.
Defenders were lethal in taking out creatures.
They were also just as forceful in ensuring that no one, not even the delusional creature sympathizers, put the city at risk.
And right now, they were headed straight in her direction.
Recently, there had been reports of creatures getting past the wall and into the city, dragging blood-ravaged bodies back with them, leaving a trail of horror in their wake. And since then, the Defenders had increased their city patrol, sifting out traitors, setting everyone on edge.
Loveleena wasn’t afraid of the Defenders, but she didn’t want to talk to them either. They were such a buzzkill. She avoided them like the plague. And she had just gotten caught stealing.
Spotting the closest side street, she quickly escaped the crowd and slipped onto the winding pathway.
“Alva.” A rough, deep voice stopped her in her tracks.
Ughhh. She knew immediately it was one of them. She let out an involuntary eye roll that, thankfully, the man behind her couldn’t see, then turned to face him. “Yes?”
“Seen any traitors around here?”
Traitors—Sympathizers—were civilians who threatened their safety or attempted to destroy the Great Wall.
The Defender’s midnight hair fell in loose waves, framing his angular jaw.
His almond amethyst eyes gave nothing away as he studied her.
He was tall, mysterious, and masculine with tattoos decorating his arms and neck.
She stood a little taller as she observed his all-black clothing: cotton shirt, thick woven pants with pockets, leather combat boots and belt.
It was the standard Defender uniform, except his was also decorated with chest, arm, and thigh leathers strapped with extra weapons.
A Slayer, then.
The Academy had three specialties, and the Slayers were the most lethal. She shouldn’t have been surprised; it was the Slayers who did patrols, after all.
She met his stare confidently. “No.”
Her mind flashed to the creature sympathizers. “Those filthy bastards deserve to get ripped to shreds for putting us all at risk,” her father would say. He didn’t care what the Defenders did; most of the noble families didn’t, as long as they took care of it.
The man looked past her up the deserted street, before his gaze dragged over her hands which instinctively tightened around the tully.
The spice mixture was rare but not impossible to get, especially for someone of her class and family status.
But it reminded her so much of Park, and to her, that made it invaluable.
The faintest frown fell between the Defender’s straight brows, but if he noticed her movement, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he dismissed her with a simple nod.
“You don’t need to check in with me. Worry about the rest,” she said coldly. While on patrol, Defenders had a duty to check in with any noble family members first. It was a sign of respect, but it annoyed her. She didn’t need to be babysat. “If I have something to share, I will come to you.”
“I’m sure you will.” Something about the way he said it sounded sarcastic, but she kept her mouth shut as she turned to leave.
“Return home safe, Alva,” the Defender called after her.
Alva. She cursed her own name as she escaped down the street. She hated that everyone in this damn city knew her and her family.
There were many benefits to being a noble, of course, but it was horrible for privacy.
She couldn’t go anywhere and just be. Letting out a shaky breath, she reminded herself that this came with being the daughter of a well-respected nobleman.
Being the center of attention was nothing new to her but dealing with the loss of her best friend while thousands of people watched made her resent it a little more.
Fifteen families ruled Jarrah, and hers was one of them.
But Loveleena was nothing like her parents.
She didn’t want respect or wealth or power.
She wanted adventure. She wanted to be free to live and explore and quite frankly, just have some fun without everyone breathing down her neck.
She wanted to drink too much wine in a dive bar and make out with a stranger.
And despite her fears, she wanted to go beyond the wall and see for herself what was really out there.
Whatever would make her feel alive, and not like a chess piece in the game of politics.
Which is why when Park told her that he found a hidden breach in the Great Wall a month before his disappearance, she didn’t hesitate to follow him to it.
Now, increased Defender presence and her parents’ watchful eye prevented her from doing much of anything.
She was like a caged animal, restrained by safety. Duty disguised as control.
She ducked down side streets that had once seemed colorful but now appeared dull and faded, making her way home as quickly as possible.
It was sad that so many homes had been left untended due to the widening wealth gap.
Nothing made people more afraid of insurrection than poverty.
Although, the creature attacks sure helped with keeping everyone in line, including her.
She didn’t agree with how the nobles ruled Jarrah.
In fact, most of the time she felt like she was living some insane spectacle.
But there truly wasn’t much she could do about it.
She skipped through private gardens and tiny alleyways to move quickly and discreetly. The less people saw her, the fewer fake smiles she had to deal out.
Along the way, her mind wandered to Park and the perfectly trimmed hair he had worn in tight natural curls these past few years.
He had these mischievous hazel eyes that would light up when he laughed at her jokes, even when they weren’t that funny.
She missed the long talks they had about everything and nothing all at once.
As childhood friends, they had spent their days running up and down these same rust-colored clay streets barefoot, hurling fruit at each other and angering their parents.
You’re children of noblemen; start acting like it.
That had always been their parents’ refrain. But they didn’t care.
It had been so long that she could no longer remember exactly how they had become friends. But it didn’t matter. At some point, an unspoken pact was written into time.
After Park disappeared, grief embedded into her chest, making a grave there, relentlessly haunting her like a melancholy ancestor. Her only reprieve was sleep, and even then, she would often dream of him. His memory followed her everywhere she went.
Catching her reflection in a shop window as she passed, Loveleena sighed. Her dark wavy hair was messy, sticking to her bronze neck from humidity and sweat. Her pale green eyes had gone glassy.
She was certain her mother would scold her for her appearance—and for being out so long.
Since Park’s disappearance, her mother had become paranoid.
Although she never said it out loud, they both knew she was afraid Loveleena would disappear, just like Park.
If the son of a nobleman, someone as well known and revered as a Kem could disappear, so could an Alva.
There were rumors that a creature had gotten through the wall and taken him.
Some said it was a serpent, undetectable under the night sky.
Others claimed Firebringers, Soul Snatchers, or preying birds.
Everyone had a different story they swore was true.
She refused to believe the tales. In her mind, Park was still alive.
With him gone and the Defender presence heightened, her future felt like this giant ominous fate that loomed closer each passing birthday.
Keeping their tully tradition going was something within her control.
Something she could do for Park. Celebrating her birthday without him made her want to rip her entire life to shreds and light it on fire.
The tully helped keep her grounded, keep her sane.
It gave her something specific to focus on so she didn’t lose herself in all of it.
Her neighbourhood was quiet, and she slipped through the gate with a friendly smile toward the guard, rounding the corner onto her lane.
She was so lost in her own mind that she collided with something large, its shadowed body and face a blur.
Her back took the majority of the hit as she toppled to the ground.
She groaned. “What in the Moon Goddess’s name?” She pushed herself up onto her elbows, tiny rocks digging into her palms as she rocked forward and rose to her feet.
Turning slowly, she expected to see the cause of her fall, but the street was empty. She had definitely run into something, something large and living.
There was no way it could have vanished so quickly.
Confused, she peered around the corner, but the path she had come down was just as deserted, peacefully framed by the grandeur of noble family homes.
The tully.
Panicking, she spotted its contents sprawled onto the cobblestone street.
“No, no, no!” she cried. She swept it up with hands, frantically pushing it back into its satchel and clutching it to her chest. A little dirt won’t hurt, she told herself as she held back tears, a memories of Park filled her mind.
This birthday will be the best one yet, Park said as their legs dangled in unison off the marble island in the servant’s kitchen.
He said that every year.
They would watch Gina, her family’s cook, mix their precious pouch of tully into the pot with fresh onions, garlic, tomatoes and herbs. Afterward, full of laughter and tully, they’d sneak off on some nighttime adventure.
In the absence of these moments, the whole day had felt still and quiet.
She had been pushing the memory away, but here, alone on the street, she broke open, just like the tully.
As the crack in her heart spread, she couldn’t contain what she had held back all day, and her eyes welled with tears as she hurried up her walkway.
She paused at her front door, blinking to push her sorrow back down.
This was exactly why she avoided replaying memories of them together in her mind.
Every time she did, grief, despair, and anger ripped through her so strongly it felt like it would tear her skin open.
So much so that the tears poured out of her, and she hated to cry, especially around other people.
Taking a deep breath, she swung open the door, anticipating her family's critical remarks on her tardiness.
“Before you say anything I—”
Her words were swallowed up as she was grabbed from behind, one hand around her torso, the other covering her head in cloth.
Everything went dark.