The Lightbringer - As Bright As The Flames

Two lovers on two separate paths. Two hearts that should have never met. They yearned for one another’s touch, company, and comfort.

They waited with bated breath for the time they could spend, alas, there were obstacles they’d have to overcome first.

Blossoming from a spark to an undying flame. But she was unable to take his name.

Though their love was secret and exciting, it brought warmth and stability to the pair. Their love was strong, but alas, their story only ended in despair.

The two grew apart and went on with their separate paths… it was a sad sight to see their love come to pass…

Arlet’s mother closed the cover of the thin-paged story booklet. It was rough around its edges and was worn from constant use and its makeshift nature. Though Arlet knew this story word for word, she still adored the time her mother spent reading it to her and her sister Alice before they went to sleep at night.

Arlet’s mother was a soft-spoken woman, though, should she be angry, the sternness in her voice would be enough to send a shiver down your spine. Her hair was a soothing brown and flowed down her back. As for her father, he was something of her opposite. Arlet’s father had short hair that was a blonde shade, and he had a voice deep filled with bass that made him seem intimidating; however, he was a kind man, and anyone who knew him would tell you his voice is just a gruff cover for what lies beyond it is sweet like honey.

As her mother read to Arlet and her sister Alice, their father dimmed the room and cast an enchantment over the space. Its purpose was to scent the air with lavender to ease the girls into their sleep and give them peace of mind. That night was like any other; she was tucked tight next to her twin sister and nestled close to her mother. She felt warm and secure; everything at this moment was right, it was just as it always was, and just as it should be. Her parents kissed her and her sister’s heads as Arlet drifted off into a calm sleep.

The next morning, the routine was the same as any previous Friday morning. The twins got up, made their beds, straightened their rooms, and washed up. They made it a race to see who could do their chores fast enough and earn the most experience points, and whoever was closer to leveling their skill would be the victor. The reward would be to get the first pick of what their father made for them for lunch.

They were to gather a total of 10 of each type of herd from the forest surrounding their estate that sat on a mountaintop. Gathering the herbs closer to the estate was worth a sizable amount of experience compared to the herbs closer to the town because getting this close to the Lucent’s land was a feat in itself, and the specific plants that grew on the land took a special touch to procure. The Lucent’s were one of the covens who held a large sum of power; their bloodline produced some of the most powerful witches and warlocks of their time.

As they did their chores every week, it led the girls to increase their skills in gathering at an exponential rate, and by the time the girls were 14, they had become excellent gatherers and novice hunters. That morning, as the girls were tending to their daily tasks, Arlet went beyond their usual gathering path and deeper into the trees of the forest.

“Arlet, aren’t you going a bit too far into the trees?” asked Alice, calling back from the treeline of the forest.

“No, Alice, you worry too much I’m just trying to tune into the natural magic of the forest. It will be fine,” stated Arlet, throwing a glance and then a smile back at her sister.

Arlet trekked onward, almost baiting her sister to follow, and Alice, even though she was the careful one of the two, joined her sister because the prospect of her sister, Arlet, getting more bacon or berry-filled biscuits was too much to bear, and so Alice followed her sister into the brush. As the girls strolled, channeling their energy through their feet into the ground below them, feeling the vibrations of the earth and letting it flow through them, they could locate even the smallest ant within a ten-meter radius. When they caress the velvety surface of the flower petals or the smooth face of the leaves on the shrubs or trees, they can pick out which plants will be ripe for harvest and which herbs are ready to gather.

Arlet liked to think of this as a conversation between her and the earth surrounding her; she felt connected to it, and it brought her a sense of peace and relief. Alice felt the same way and would normally spend her free time roaming the garden at home, while Arlet constantly had her nose in a book, reading stories and spell books alike. As they walked, Alice noticed there was a small clearing in the trees, almost like a hidden nook within the forest.

“Look..” said Alice, rushing ahead of Arlet and resting her hand gently on the big oak tree that hid the space. “There is a small clearing just past these trees.”

“Is there really?” asked Arlet, walking to where her sister stood. There was a small clearing hidden off the beaten path, nestled in the trees and shrubs. Though the sun shone upon the spot, there were a few patches of shade from the trees above and a miniature pond sparkling under the rays, the view was serene with the way the flowers littered around the pond and the lily pads floated on its surface. Arlet was especially captivated by it because it reminded her of a scene in her mother’s story, the two lovers from separate walks of life would meet in a spot just like this and spend hours of the day together.

“Let us rest here Alice.” said Arlet “We may have to go back soon so there is no reason to travel further and don’t think I didn’t notice, I saw you starting to limp, your feet are sore,” she said giggling at her sister and sat under the shade of a tree near a pond in the clearing.

Alice soon fell asleep under the calm breeze that blew gently from the surface of the pond, as for Arlet she was scribbling down her surroundings in her journal that she carried with her at all times, it was charmed by her mother filled with never-ending pages and portable so it changes in size to fit in any pocket or satchel the owner puts it in. She went from writing about everything eye level to looking at the sky, and that is when she noticed the initials etched onto the bark of the tree she sat under.

“That’s odd… the letters read A+S isn’t mom’s name Aleena… but dad’s name doesn’t start with an S… who else could have gotten this close to the estate…” wondered Arlet. She jotted this down in her notes and woke Alice to show her. “Alice.. wake up. Look at-”

But before she could finish, Alice jumped up and grabbed Arlet’s hand, exclaiming, “Why didn’t you wake me sooner! We are going to be late for lessons at this rate.”

“We mustn’t be late, Arlet, Ms.Karsson will have our heads, and Mother will be furious. We may get no dessert tonight.”

The girls giggled as they rushed back home hand in hand with one another, talking about the games they could play in their new hideout. The girls were too excited and thrilled to even notice the eyes watching them from the foliage. Watching them ever so intently.

The girls packaged the herbs and put them in their respective containers, and did their lessons for that morning with their tutors. The girls were too young to go into public academies with other children from the neighboring covens, as their powers were only just coming in, and they still needed practice in controlling them. They spent their days practicing their need-based skills and commanding their Magic so that they may enter school as soon as possible.

By nightfall, Arlet was meditating in the gardens, working on her moon connection, while Alice was in the kitchen with their mother on cleaning duty for the night. As Arlet meditated under the light of the new moon, she felt her body relax as she sank into a trance-like state. Her breathing matched the breadth of the earth itself, swaying with the winds.

It was in that moment she felt a serene sensation wash over her as if she was lying in the clouds themselves, mind clear as a river safe away from the creatures who’d pollute it, a hidden gem. Perfect tranquility.

However, that feeling was short-lived. The welcoming darkness she saw behind her closed eyelids was replaced by a blinding light. Her entire body was overcome with extreme emotional exhaustion; she felt anxious and tired, and could hear her breathing quicken as if she were running. She opened her eyes, looking down, and she was running, frantic, tripping over herself. She looked down at her one free hand, which was covered in dirt and numb from the biting cold. She felt the weight of her knapsack on her back; she could tell it was packed to its brim because of how it weighed down on her shoulders. She tried to calm herself, but she couldn’t; all she could do was look around.

“Help…!” She tried to yell out, but it was deathly silent aside from the sounds of her panting and her feverish footsteps. She felt panic start to take over as she came to the realization she was just a passenger in her own body; she had no control over what was happening. She was losing consciousness as everything started fading to black all around her.

She took a final deep breath, and that is when an unmistakable scent finally hit her, the smell of burning wood and foliage overpowered her and became the only thing she could smell, and before her consciousness was lost, she took one look back, and there she saw it. The Lucent Manor was lit ablaze, and the forest surrounding it was aflame. Then it was black.

“It’s cold..”

“The winters upon these mountains are harsh.”

“It’s quiet, so quiet I fear I am deaf..”

“Silence, no sound, do not make a sound..”

“It’s dark, too dark..”

“The darkness may be uninviting, but the dark will protect you… hide you.”

“I’m here.”

“No more running…”

“We are here…”

“We…are…safe now..”

“Deep in the cavern, deep in the cave, for the mage who seeks answers, and wishes to be saved.”

The melody of the water dripping from the stalactites was a soothing song for the child who had found her way inside. She looked ragged, her garments torn, dirt on her clothes mixed with the snow that had dampened the hem of her skirts. So small, so fragile she seemed. This girl had seen something tragic, her cheeks stained from tears, her eyes puffy and red. You could tell she was tired from her trek up the mountain, and still, her tears flowed; they came to a trickle and then a drop, and soon she collapsed onto the tunnel floor. The girl with hair as white as the snow that graces the mountain’s peak. The girl with an aura as bright as the sun.

The girl stumbled into town days later, her feet dirtied from the soles of her shoes starting to fall off, her dress tattered by an, and her hood damp from the snow. She limped as she lugged her sack on her back into the alleyway of the local tavern so no one could see her. There, she took a breath and thought of her next step. Where would she go? What would she do? And most importantly, who would she be?

That night was one she would never forget; it was the foundation of everything that was to come. That night turned the page to the next chapter of her life. She picked up a glass shard from a broken ale bottle and used it to cut off her long locks of hair. As she cut away her pink-tinted auburn hair, she deliberated. She’d wander the alleys at night for unsuspecting victims, rob them blind, take what she could, and do what she must to survive.

Through the early morning air flowed the locks of her dark-colored hair flowed. The wind carried not only her hair but a deep sense of despair as if the burning scent of the woods followed her all the way there. Reminding her, haunting her in every sense.

All traces of her past life were gone with the cinders of her home and the mountain’s wind. But the stain of her tragedy was as pernicious as the night it happened. News had just started to travel, people spoke in whispers, and exchanged looks of worry. She paid it no mind really, she already knew what they were discussing and gossiping about, she was too fixated on how she would make it through another night…

As she walked through the alleyways, a single page of a newspaper fluttered overhead, its headline reading-

“The Lucent Coven - Convicted for the murder of the late King Silas Versailles!“

Reading this, she gripped the page, knuckles white. Eyes glowing white under her hood, the page erupted into a small flame.

Tossing it aside, she marched out into the street on towards the horizon, and toward a future she was unsure would be as bright as the flames of her anger or as the rising sun before her. Either way, justice was to be had, and revenge was to be exacted.

The sun kissed her dirtied robes as she marched toward the castle of the late King Silas Versailles…..